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THE   LIFE 


OP 


EDWAED   IRVING. 


VOL.  I. 


PBIHTED     BX     8P0TTISW00DE     AND     CO. 
ITEW-SIBEET   SQUA.BE 


-^t<, 


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^^luP  Jntu^ 


fc-  THE   LIFE 


OF 


EDWARD    IRVING 


MINISTEE  OF, 


THE  NATIONAL  SCOTCH  CHUECH,  LONDON. 


jllttstrat^lj  bl  \h  |ournals  mli  €mt^mkm. 


BY 


MES.    OLIPHANT. 


"  Whether  I  live,  I  live  unto  the  Lord ;  and  whether  I  die,  I  die  unto  the  Lord : 
living  or  dying,  I  am  the  Lord's."    Amen. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 
VOL.  L 

LONDON: 
HURST    AND    BLACKETT,    PUBLISHERS, 

SUCCESSOES    TO    HENRY    COLBURN, 
13,  GEEAT  MARLBOROUGH  STREET. 

1862. 

Tke  rigtd  of  Tiaitdution  u  reserved 


6X 

v./ 


I 


TO  ALL  WHO   LOVE   THE  MEMORY  OF 


EDWAED  mVING: 


WHICH   THE   WRITER  HAS  FOUND   BY   MUCH   EXPERIMENT 


TO    MEAN    ALL    WHO    EVER    KNEW    HIM  : 


THIS  BOOK  IS   INSCRIBED. 


PREFACE. 


It  seems  necessary  to  say  something,  by  way  of 
excusing  myself  for  wliat  I  feel  must  appear  to  many 
tlie  presumption  of  undertaking  so  serious  a  work  as 
this  biography.  I  need  not  relate  the  various  un- 
thought-of  ways  by  which  I  have  been  led  to  under- 
take it,  which  are  my  apology  to  myself  rather  than 
to  the  pubhc  ;  but  I  may  say  that,  in  a  matter  so 
comphcated  and  delicate,  it  appeared  to  me  a  kind  of 
safeguard  that  the  writer  of  Edward  Irving's  life  should 
be  a  person  ^vithout  authority  to  pronounce  judgment 
on  one  side  or  the  other,  and  interested  chiefly  with 
the  man  himself,  and  his  noble  courageous  warfare 
through  a  career  encompassed  with  all  human  agonies. 
I  hoped  to  get  personal  consolation  amid  heavy 
troubles  out  of  a  life  so  full  of  great  love,  faith,  and 
sorrow ;  and  I  have  found  this  life  so  much  more 
lofty,  pure,  and  true  than  my  imagination,  that  the  pic- 
ture, unfolding  under  my  hands,  has  often  made  me 
pause  to  think  how  such  a  painter  as  the  Blessed 
Angehco  took  the  attitude  of  devotion  at  his  labour, 
and  painted  such  saints  on  his  knees.  The  large  ex- 
tracts which,  by  the  kindness  of  his  surviving  children, 
I  have  been  permitted  to  make  from  Irving's  letters, 


VIU  rUKFACE. 

will  show  tlio  ivadors  <»!'  this  book,  botlcr  than  any 
description,  what  uiMiiiu'i- of  man  lir  was;  and  I  feci 
assured  tliat  to  be  able  tlius  to  illustratt'  llir  facts  of 
his  liistory  by  liis  own  exposition  of  ils  hrart  and  ])ur- 
pose,  i.s  to  do  liim  izreater  justier  than  conld  Ije  liuped 
fur  from  any  other  means  uf  iiiLciprelaLion. 

My  tlianks  are  due,  first  and  above  all,  to  Professor 
Martin  Irving,  of  Melbounu',  and  to  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Gardiner,  London,  wlio  have  kindly  permitted  me  the 
use  of  tlieh'  father's  letters  ;  to  the  Iiev,  James  Brodie 
and  Mrs.  Brodie,  of  Monimail,  and  Miss  Martin,  l']din- 
bm-gh  ;  to  J.  Fergusson,  Esq.,  and  W.  Dickson,  Esq., 
Glasgow,  nephews  of  Irvnng ;  the  llev.  Dr.  Grierson, 
of  EiTol ;  Patrick  Sheriff,  Esq.,  of  Tladdington  ;  !Mrs. 
Carlyle,  Chelsea;  the  Eev.  Dr.  Hanna;  M.  N.  Mac- 
donald  Hume,  Esq. ;  James  Bridges,  Esq. ;  Eev.  D.  Ker, 
Edinburgh ;  Eev.  J.  M.  Campbell,  late  of  Eow ;  J. 
Hatley  Frere,  Esq.,  London ;  Eev.  A.  J.  Scott,  of  Man- 
chester ;  Dr.  G.  M.  Scott,  Hampstead ;  Eev.  E.  IL  Stoiy , 
of  Eosneath  ;  and  other  friends  of  Irving,  some  of 
them  now  beyond  the  reach  of  earthly  thanks — among 
whom  I  may  mention  the  late  Henry  Drummond,  Esq., 
of  Albuiy,  and  Mrs.  Wm.  Hamilton  —  who  have  kindly 
placed  letters  and  other  memoranda  at  my  disposal,  or 
triven  me  the  benefit  of  their  personal  recollections. 

M.  0.  W.  OLIVKANT. 
Eallsg  :  April  1802. 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HIS   PARENTAGE   AND    CHILDHOOD. 

The  Irvings  and  Lowtliers  —  Peciiliarities  of  the  Eace  —  His  im- 
mediate Family  —  Life  in  Annan  —  Universal  Friendliness  — 
Traditions  of  the  District  —  The  Covenanters  —  Birth  of  Edward 
—  His  Parents  —  Peggy  Paine's  School  —  Hannah  Douglas  — 
Annan  Academy  —  Out-door  Education  —  Solway  Sands  —  Es- 
caping from  the  Tide  —  Early  Characteristics  —  Sunday  Pil- 
grimages—  The  "Whigs"  —  Ecclefechan  —  His  youthful  Com- 
panions —  Strange  Dispersion  —  Home  Influences  —  Leaving 
Annan Page  1 


CHAPTER  H. 

HIS   COLLEGE    LIFE. 

Prolonged  Probation  of  Scotch  Ministers  —  Boy-Students — Inde- 
pendence—  Hard  Training — Journeys  on  Foot  —  Early  Reading 
—  Distinctions  in  Society  —  Patrons  and  Associates  —  Carlyle's 
Description  of  Ii'ving  —  Early  Laboiu's 25 


CHAPTER  in. 

HADDINGTON. 

The  Doctor's  Httle  Daughter  —  The  first  Declension  —  Conflict 
between  Pity  and  Truth  —  New  Friends  —  Sport  and  Study  — 
Holiday  Science  —  Incident  in  St.  George's  Church  —  Society 
in  Haddington  —  Bolton  Manse  —  Young  Companions  —  Extent 
of  his  Work  —  Courage  and  Cheerfulness  —  Leaves  Had- 
dington       36 


X  CONTEXTS   OF   THE    FIRST   VOLUME. 

CUAPTER  rV. 

KinKCALDY. 

Kirkcaldy   Acadouiy  —  Personal    Appearance — Severe   Discipline 

—  Doing  all  Things  heartily — Kirkcaldy  Sands  —  Milton  Class 

—  Schoolboy  Chivalry  —  "  Much  respected  Pui)ils" —  Love- 
making —  Confidential  Disclosures  —  Engagoment  —  The  Minister 
of  Kirkcaldy  —  The  Manse  Household  —  Sister  Elizabeth  —  llcr 
Uusband —  Irving's  First  Sermon —  Superiority  to  "The  Paper" 
— "  Ower  mucklo  Gran'ner  "  —  Other  people's  Sermons — His 
Thoughts  about  Preaching  —  In  a  Highland  Inn  —  Warlike 
Aspiration  —  General  Assembly  —  Debate  on  Pluralities  —  Into- 
lerance of  Circumstances —  Abbotshall  School-house   .     Page  50 

CHAPTER  V. 

AKLOAT   ON    THE    WOULD. 

Bristo    Street  —  Renewed    Studies  —  Advice, —  Literary    Societies 

—  Begins  anew —  Was  his  own  Hearer  —  Undisturbed  Belief — 
His  Haddington  Pupil  —  Candour  and  Pugnacity  —  Clouded 
Prospects  —  The  Aiwstolic  Missionary  —  Domestic  Letters  — 
Carlylc — Hopes  and  Fears — Preaches  in  St.  George's,  Edinbvu-gh 

—  Suspense  —  Goes  to  Ireland  —  Wanderings  —  Invitation  to 
Glasgow  —  Interest  in  Church  Affairs  —  Doubtful  of  his  ovra 
Success 77 

CILVPTER  VL 

GLASGOW. 

Dr.  Chalmers's  Helper  —  Condition  of  Glasgow  —  Irving's  political 
Sentiments — State  of  the  Country  in  general  —  Irving's  Confidence 
in  the  Radicals  —  The  Calton  Weavers  —  Chalmers  and  Irving  — 
Incessant  Labours — The  Parish  of  St.  John — Its  Autocrat  —  The 
Shoemaker — "He  kens  about  Leather" — Apostolic  Benediction — 
Intercourse  with  the  Poor  —  A  Legacy  —  The  Help  of  a  Brother 
— "  It's  no  himsel  " — Two  Presbyters — The  Pedlar — "A  man  on 
Horse  "  —  The  Howies  —  Holiday  Adventures  —  Simplicity  of 
Heart  —  Solemnity  of  Deportment  —  Convicts  in  Glasgow  Jail  — 
Irving  patronised  by  the  Office-bearers  —  In  the  Shade  —  His 
Loyalty  and  Admiration  —  The  bright  Side  —  The  dark  Side  — 
Missionary  Projects  renewed  —  The  Caledonian  Chapel,  Hatton 
Garden  —  Letter  of  Recommendation  —  Favouiable  Prognostica- 
tions —  Irving  desires  to  go  to  London  —  His  Pleasure  in  his  Ee- 


CONTENTS   OF  THE   FIKST  VOLUME.  XI 

ception  there  —  Obstacles  —  The  Caledonian  Asylum  —  Pledges 
himself  to  learn  Gaelic  —  Bond  required  by  the  Presbytery  — 
Visits  to  Paisley  —  Removal  of  Obstacles  —  Eosneath  —  Happy 
Anticipations  —  Farewell  Sermon  —  Offers  his  Services  in  London 
to  all  —  Eeceives  a  farewell  Present  —  The  Annandale  Watch- 
maker —  A  "  singular  Honour  "  —  Goes  to  London     .     Page  99 

CHAPTER  VII. 

LONDON,    1822. 

First  Appearance —  Satisfaction  with  his  new  Sphere — His  Thoughts 
and  Hopes  —  Outset  in  Life  —  Chalmers  in  London  —  Appeals  to 
Irving's  Sympathy  —  Progress  in  Popularity  —  "  Our  Scottish 
Youth" —  Canning  and  Mackintosh  —  Happy  Obscurity  —  The 
"  Happy  Warrior  "  —  The  Desire  of  his  Heart  —  His  first  House- 
hold       150 

CHAPTER  VHL 

1823. 

The  Orations  —  Irving's  much  Experience  in  Preaching  —  Addresses 
himself  to  educated  Men — Ai-gument  for  Judgment  to  come  — 
Assailed  by  Critics  —  Mock  Trial  —  Indictment  before  the  Court 
of  Common  Sense  —  Acquittal  —  Description  of  the  Church  and 
Preacher —  Influence  of  his  personal  Appearance —  Inconveniences 
of  Poptdarity  —  Success  of  the  Book  —  A  riiral  Sunday  —  His 
Marriage  —  His  Wife  —  The  bridal  Holiday  —  Reappearance  in 
St.  John's  —  Return  to  London  —  Preface  to  the  Third  Edition  of 
the  Orations  —  His  Dedications  and  Prefaces  generally  —  Mr. 
Basil  Montagu  —  Irving's  grateflil  Acknowledgments — His  early 
Dangers  in  Society  — Bedford  Square —  Coleridge  —  His  Influence 
on  the  Views  of  Irving  —  Social  Charities  —  A  simple  Pres- 
byter      .     .     .  _ 164 

CHAPTER  IX. 

1824. 

Failure  of  Health  —  Determination  to  do  his  Work  thoroughly  — 
Proposes  to  write  a  Missionary  Sermon  —  For  Missionaries 
after  the  Apostolical  School  —  The  wandering  Apostle  —  Con- 
sternation of  the  Audience  —  Wrath  of  the  rehgious  World 
—  A  Martyr-Missionary  —  Publication  of  the  Oration  —  An 
Exeter  Hall  Meeting  —  Protest  against  the  Machinery  of  Evan- 
gelism—  Dedication  to  Coleridge  —  Lavish  Acknowledgments  — 


Xll  CONTEXTS   OF   TITR    riPvST   VOLUME. 

Coldnoss  and  Kstranpcmcnt  —  Tin;  I'lvabytcrian  Eldership  —  Its 
Duties  and  Privilrpos  —  IrvinLr  r«'rinshis  Kirk-session  —  Birth  of 
little  Edward  —  Personal  Charilivs  —  A  lost  Life —  llospilality  — 
Commencement  of  the  new  Church  —  Evanpclicid  .Journey  — 
Birmingham  —  Home  Society  —  "  In  Gml  he  lived  and 
moved " I'agc  193 

CHAPTER  X. 

1825. 

Irving's  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Prophecy  —  The  Fascination 
of  that  Study —  Ilis  Conscientiousness  in  treating  his  Subjects  — 
Habits  of  Thought  —  Sermon  to  the  Continental  Society  —  Baljy- 
lon  and  Infidelity  Foredoomed —  Sermons  on  public  Occasions  — 
Hibernian  Bible  Society  —  An  Afternoon  among  the  Poor  — 
Irving's  "Way"  —  Invitation  to  remove  to  Edinburgh  —  His 
Answer — Ilis  Manner  of  Life  —  The  Paddington  Coach  —  His 
Letter  of  "Welcome  to  his  Wife  —  His  Feelings  in  respect  to  his 
Call  to  Edinburgh  —  Peasons  for  remaining  in  London  —  Ser- 
mons on  the  Trinity  —  Opinions  in  respect  to  Miracles  —  Sacra- 
ment of  Baptism  —  Original  Standards  —  Baptismal  Pegenera- 
tion  —  Little  Edward's  Illness  and  Death  —  Sorrow  and  Consola- 
tion —  In-ing's  Announcement  of  his  Child's  Death  —  Little 
Edward's  Memory  —  "  A  glorious  Bud  of  Being"  —  Irving  visits 
the  sorrowful  in  Kirkcaldy 220 

CHAPTER   XI. 

JOURNAL. 

Wanderings  among  the  Hills  —  An  Apostolical  Jounioy  — Annan  — 
Incidents  of  a  Stage-coach  Journey  —  Arrival  at  1  lome  —  Com- 
mencement of  Journal-letters  —  Morning  Worship  —  Historical 
Reading — Bishop  Overall's  Convocation  Book — "Idolatry  of  the 
Memory  ''  —  Devotion  and  Study  —  Visions  of  the  Night  — 
Breakfast  Party  —  A  Day  in  the  City — Book-stalls — Christian 
Counsel  —  In  Eaintness  and  Fervour  — "  For  the  Consolation  of 
Edward's  Mother  " —  The  Secret  of  Fellowship  —  Influence  of  the 
Landscape — Wisdom  and  Power — Prayers  for  the  Absent  — 
Interceding  for  the  people  —  A  Sunday's  Services  —  Exposition 

—  Sermon  —  Evening  Service  —  His  Responsibility  as  Head  of 
the  Household  —  At  Home —  Scottish  Adventurers  —  The  Priest 
and  his  Catechumens — Two  Sisters — A  Companion  for  his  Isabella 

—  A  Son  from  the  Lord — Weariness  —  A  Spirit  full  of  In- 
spirations —  Retvims  to  the  Convocation  Book  —  Study  —  A  Re- 


CONTENTS   OF   THE   FIRST  VOLUME.  XIU 

Tinion  of  Young  Christians  —  Self-denial  in  Religions  Conver- 
sation—  "A  very  ricli  Harvest" — Temptations  of  Satan  — 
Pastoral  Visits  —  A  Sick-Bed  —  Correggio's  "  St.  John  "  — 
Prayers  —  Ecclesiasticns  —  Deteriorating  Effect  of  a  Great  City 

—  Two  London  Boys  —  A  logical  Companion  —  Sunday  Ser- 
vices—  "Want  of  Faith  —  Little  Edward's  Ministry  —  An  Litel- 
lectuaUst  —  Influence  of  Custom  —  Eemoustrance  about  Length 
of  Services  —  The  Peace-Offering  —  Philanthropy  —  The  Mys- 
tery of  the  Trinity  —  Missionaries  —  Readings  in  Hebrew  — 
Letters  of  Introduction  —  The  Church  as  a  House  —  Simple  and 
improvided  Faith  —  Funeral  Services  —  The  Twelfth  Day  of 
the  Month  —  Sunday  Morning  —  Presentiments  — True  Brother- 
hood —  The  prodigal  Widow  —  Undirected  Letters  —  A  London 
Sponging-house  —  Joseph  in  Prison  —  From  House  to  House  — 
Christian  Intercourse —  Domestic  "Worship  —  A  Death-bed  —  A 
Good  Voyage  —  The  Theology  of  Medicine  —  The  Glory  of  God 

—  Huskiness  about  the  Heart  —  The  Spirit  of  a  Man  —  Different 
Forms  of  the  worldly  Spirit  —  Try  the  Spirits  —  A  Benediction  to 
the  Absent  —  Visions  of  the  Night  —  Sunday  —  The  Ministry  of 
"Women  —  Morning  Visitors  —  A  Dream  —  Sceptics  —  The  Four 
Spirits  —  Religious  Belles  —  Best  Manner  of  contending  with 
Infidelity  —  A  subtle  Cantab  —  A  Circle  of  Kinsfolk  —  Pleasures 
of  the  Table  :  Pea-soup  and  Potatoes  —  The  Spirit  of  a  former 
Age  —  The  lost  Sheep  —  The  Influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  — 
New  Testament  History  of  the  Church  —  The  Sons  of  God  and 
the  Daughters  of  Men  —  "Wisdom  —  Farewell  Counsels  —  A 
Fimeral  —  The  Joy  of  Grief —  Management  —  Deterioration  — 
The  New  Church  —  Ministerial  Liberty  —  Dreams  of  Edward  — 
The  Spirit  of  Prayer  —  "  My  Dumfriesshire  "  —  Paralytic  in 
Soul  —  Under-current  of  Thought  during  Prayer  —  Money,  the 
universal  Falsehood  —  Lessons  in  Spanish  —  The  Wings  of  Love 

—  Parables  — Tokens  of  God's  Blessing  —  Irving's  Anxiety  about 
his  Wife's  Journey — A  yoimg  Visitor  —  A  "  Benedict "  — Evils 
of  Formality  —  Benediction  —  Irving's  only  Joui'nal      Page  249 

CHAPTER  XII. 

1826  —  1827. 
The  Headship  of  Christ  —  A  Baptized  Christendom  —  Expansion  — 
Ben-Ezra  —  The  Spanish  Jesuit  —  Irving's  Consistency  —  A 
Christian  Nation  —  Political  Opinions  —  Rest  and  Relaxation  — 
Beckenham  —  His  "Helper  meet  for  him" — The  Hibernian 
Bible  Society  —  Albury  —  Henry  Drummond  —  Conference  for 
the  Study  of  Prophecy  —  Concerning  the   Second  Advent  —  A 


XIV  CONTEXTS   OF  THE   FIRST  VOLUME. 

School  of  Proplu't.s  —  Irving's  Vt'.rscs  —  Tlic  Antichrist  —  A 
Ilonild  of  tlio  Lord's  Coming — Signs  of  tlie  Tinu's  —  The  Fife 
IV.mV  —  Help  and  Consolation  —  Opening  of  National  Scotch 
Cluirch  —  Unanimity  of  tlic  Congregation  —  Dr.  Chalmers's 
Diary  —  Irving  keeps  Chalmers  waiting  —  Dr.  Chalmers  sliakes 
his  Head  —  Important  Crisis  —  Fashion  went  her  idle  Way  — 
Irving's  own  Evidence  on  the  Subject  —  Reality  —  Ces.sation  of 
tlie  Crowd  —  ''  The  Plate  "  —  Irving's  Onering  —  The  Bible 
Society  —  A  May  Meeting  —  A  Moment  of  Depression  —  Projects 
for  the  Future  —  Lectures  on  Baptism  —  Seed-time  —  Ordination 
Charge  —  Vaughan  of  Leicester  —  The  Light  that  never  was  on 
Sea  or  Shore Page  376 


EDWARD    IRVING. 


CHi^TER  I. 

HIS   PARENTAGE   AXD   CniLDIIOOD. 

In  the  autumn  of  the  eventful  year  1792,  at  the 
most  smgular  crisis  of  the  world's  history  which  has 
arisen  in  modern  times, —  when  France  was  going  mad 
in  her  revolution,  and  the  other  nations  of  Christen- 
dom were  crowding  in,  curious  and  dismayed,  to  see 
that  spectacle  which  was  to  result  in  so  many  other 
changes  ;  but  far  away  from  all  those  outcries  and 
struggles,  in  the  peaceful  httle  Scotch  town  of  Annan, 
Edward  Irving,  tlie  story  of  whose  life  is  to  be  told  in  the 
followuig  pages,  was  born.  He  was  the  son  of  Gavin 
Irvmg,  of  a  long-established  local  kindred,  well  known, 
but  undistingiiished,  who  followed  the  humble  occu- 
pation of  a  tanner  in  Annan, —  and  of  Mary  Lowther, 
the  handsome  and  high-spfrited  daughter  of  a  small 
landed  proprietor  in  the  adjacent  parish  of  Dornoch. 
Among  the  Irving  forefathers  were  a  family  of  Howys, 
Albigenses,  or  at  least  French  Protestant  refugees,  one 
of  whom  had  become  parish  minister  in  Annan,  and 
has  left  behind  him  some  recollections  of  lively  wit 
worthy  his  race,  and  a  tombstone,  with  a  quamt  in- 

VOL.  I.  B 


2  Tin:    IKVINCS    AM)    KOWTIIHUS. 

script ioii,  wliirh  is  one  of  tlic  wonders  of  tlio  nielanclioly 
and  onnvded  cluircliyard,  or  rallu-r  hurying-ground  ; 
for  tlie  present  cluireli  of  tlie  town  lias  left  the  graves 
hehind.  The  same  dismal  enclosure,  wilh  its  nameless 
mounds,  risinij  mysterious  throuLrh  the  ruiTLCcd  Ljrass, 
proclaims  the  name  of  Irving  on  every  side  in  many 
lines  <A'  kindred;  but  these  tombstones  seem  almost 
the  only  record  extant  of  the  family.  The  Lowthers 
were  more  notable  people.  The  eldest  brother,  Tristram, 
whom  Edward  characterises  as  "  Uncle  Tristrani  of 
Dornoch,  the  wilful,"  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the 
acknowledged  characters  of  that  characteristic  country. 
He  lived  and  died  a  bachelor,  saving,  litigious  and  ec- 
centric;  and,  determined  to  enjoy  in  his  lifetime  that 
fame  which  is  posthumous  to  most  men,  he  erected  his 
own  tombstone  in  Dornoch  churchyard,  recording  on 
it  the  most  memorable  of  his  achievements.  The 
greatest  of  these  were,  winning  a  lawsuit  in  which  lie 
had  been  engaged  against  his  brothers,  and  building  a 
bridge.  It  appears  that  he  showed  true  wisdom  in 
getting  what  satisfaction  he  could  out  of  this  auto- 
biographical essay  while  he  Uved  ;  for  his  respectable 
heii>>  have  balked  Tristram,  and  carried  away  the 
characteristic  monument.  Another  brother  lives  in 
local  tradition  as  the  good-natured  giant  of  the  district. 
It  is  told  of  him  that,  having  once  accompanied  his 
droves  into  England  (they  were  all  giazier  farmers 
by  profession),  the  Scottish  Hercules,  placid  of  temper, 
and  perhaps  a  little  slow  of  apprehension,  according  to 
the  nature  of  giants,  was  refreshing  himself  in  an  old- 
fashioned  tavern — locality  uncertain — supposed  to  be 
either  the  dock  precincts  of  Liver[)ool,  or  the  eastern 


PECULIAEITIES   OF   THE    RACE.  3 

wastes  of  London.  Tlie  other  guests  in  the  great  sanded 
kitchen,  where  they  were  all  assembled,  amused  them- 
selves with  an  attempt  to  "  chaff"  and  aggravate  the 
stranger ;  and  finding  this  tedious  work,  one  rash  joker 
went  so  far  as  to  insult  him,  and  invite  a  quarrel. 
George  Lowther  bore  it  long,  probably  slow  to  com- 
prehend the  idea  of  quarrelling  with  such  antagonists  ; 
at  last,  when  his  patience  was  exhausted,  the  giant, 
grimly  humorous,  if  not  angry,  seized,  some  say 
a  great  iron  spit  from  the  wall,  some  a  poker  from  the 
hearth,  and  twisting  it  round  the  neck  of  his  unfortu- 
nate assailant,  quietly  left  him  to  the  laughter  and  con- 
dolences of  his  comrades  till  a  blacksmith  could  be 
brought  to  release  him  from  that  impromptu  pillory. 
Gavin  Irving's  wife  was  of  this  stout  and  primitive 
race.  Her  activity  and  cheerful,  high-spkited  comehness 
are  still  well  remembered  by  the  contemporaries  of  her 
children  ;  and  even  the  splendour  of  the  scarlet  riding- 
skirt  and  Leghorn  hat,  in  which  she  came  home  as  a 
bride,  are  still  reflected  in  some  old  memories. 

The  famiHes  on  both  sides  were  of  competent  sub- 
stance and  reputation,  and  rich  in  individual  character. 
No  wealth,  to  speak  of,  existed  among  them  :  a  little 
patriarchal  foundation  of  land  and  cattle,  from  which 
the  eldest  son  might  perhaps  claim  a  territorial  desig- 
nation if  his  droves  found  prosperous  market  across 
the  border ;  the  younger  sons,  trained  to  independent 
trades,  one  of  them,  perhaps,  not  disdaining  to  throw  his 
plaid  over  his  shoulder  and  call  his  dog  to  his  heels 
behind  one  of  these  same  droves,  a  sturdv  novitiate 
to  his  grazier  Hfe ;  while  the  inclinations  of  another 
might  quite  as  naturally  and  suitably  lead  him  to  such 

B    2 


4  Ills    I.MMHOIATK    TAMILS. 

study  of  law  as  may  bo  necessary  for  a  Scotcli  "\\  liter," 
or  to  tlu'  favourite  and  most  ])rof(nm(lly  i-es|n'(ti'd  ol' 
all  professions,  "  the  ministry,"  as  it  is  enllcd  in  Scot- 
land. Tlif  IrviuiX  and  Lowthrr  families  embi'aced  both 
classes,  with  all  the  intermediary  stfj)s  bctwi'cn  tlicm  ; 
and  Gavin  Irving  and  his  wife,  in  their  little  house  at 
Annan,  stood  perhaps  about  midway  between  the 
honiely  refinement  of  the  Dnmrricsshire  manses  and 
the  rude  profusion  of  the  Annimdale  farms. 

Of  this  marriage  eiirht  children  were  born, —  tlu'ee 
sons,  John,  Edward,  and  George,  all  of  whom  were 
educated  to  learned  professions;  and  five  daughters, 
all  respectably  married,  one  of  whom  still  survives,  the 
last  of  her  family.  All  the  sisters  seem  to  have  left 
representatives  behhid  ilium ;  but  John  and  George 
both  died  unmanied  before  the  death  of  their  dis- 
tinguished brother.  The  eldest,  whom  old  friends 
speak  of  as  "  one  of  the  handsomest  young  men  of  his 
day,"  and  whom  his  father  imagined  the  genius  of  the 
family,  died  obscurely  in  India  on  Edward's  birthday, 
the  4th  of  August,  in  the  prime  of  liis  manhood,  a 
medical  ofiTicer  in  the  East  India  Company's  service. 
He  w^as  struck  down  by  jungle  fever,  a  sharp  and  sud- 
den blow,  and  his  friends  had  not  even  the  satisfaction 
of  knowing  fully  the  circumstances  of  his  death.  Ijut 
henceforward  the  day,  made  thus  doubly  memorable, 
was  consecrated  by  Edward  as  a  solemn  fast-day,  and 
.spent  in  the  deepest  seclusion.  Under  the  date  of  a 
letter,  wTitten  on  the  2nd  of  August  some  years  after, 
he  writes  the  following  touching  note : — "4  August,  Dies 
naUilis  aUjue  fatalis  incidit"  translated  imderneath  by 
himself  '•  The  day  of  birth  and  of  death  draweth  nigh." 


LIFE   IN   ANNAN.  5 

— the  highest  art  could  not  have  reared  such  a  monu- 
ment to  the  early  dead. 

The  stormy  firmament  under  which  these  children 
were  born,  and  all  the  commotions  gomg  on  in  the 
outside  world,  scarcely  seem  to  have  fluttered  the  still 
atmosphere  of  the  little  rural  town  in  wliich  they  first 
saw  the  hght.  There  the  quiet  years  were  revolving, 
untroubled  by  either  change  or  tumult :  quiet  traffic, 
slow,  safe,  and  unpretending,  sailed  its  corn-laden  sloops 
from  the  Waterfoot,  the  httle  port  where  Annan  water 
flows  into  the  Solway  ;  and  sent  its  droves  across  the 
border,  and  grew  soberly  rich  without  alteration  of 
either  position  or  manners.  The  society  of  the  place 
was  composed  of  people  much  too  well  known  in  all  the 
details  and  antecedents  of  their  hfe  to  entertain  for  a 
moment  the  idea  of  forsaking  tlieir  humble  natural 
sphere.  The  Kirk  lay  dormant,  by  times  respectable 
and  decorous,  by  times,  unfortunately,  much  the  reverse, 
but  very  seldom  reaching  a  higher  point  than  that  of 
respectabihty.  Pohtics  did  not  exist  as  an  object  of  popu- 
lar interest.  The  "Magistrates"  of  Annan  elected  their 
sixth  part  of  a  member  of  Parhament  dutifully  as  his 
Grace's  agents  suggested,  and  gleaned  poor  posts  in  the 
Customs  and  Excise  for  their  dependent  relations.  The 
parish  school,  perhaps  of  a  deeper  efficiency  than  anything 
else  in  the  place,  trained  boys  and  girls  together  into  stout 
practical  knowledge,  and  such  rude  classic  learning  as 
lias  estabhshed  itself  throughout  Scotland.  High  Puri- 
tanism, such  as  is  supposed  to  form  the  distinguishing 
feature  of  Scotch  communities,  was  undreamed  of  in 
this  little  town.  According  to  its  fashion  Annan  was 
warmly  hospitable  and  festive,  living  in  a  httle  round 


6  INIVKIISAL    rniENDLINKSS, 

of  social  iraiotios.     Those  Lraiclios  ^vvvv  (or    llio  most 
pari  tea  partios,  of  a  (k'scrii>li<Mi  no!  imw  known,  unless, 
perliajis,  they  may  still   linger  in  Annan  and   its  eom- 
panion-towns, —  ])arties   in   which   tea   was  a  meal    of 
much    serious  importance,    accomjmnied    by    refresh- 
ments of  a  more  substantial  kind,  and   followed  by  a 
sober   deirree   of  joviality.      The   finnilies   who   thus 
anmsc'd    themselves  grew  uj)    in    the    closest   relations 
of  neighbours] li])  ;  they  sent  off  sons  into  the   world 
to  gain  name  and  fiime  beyond  tlic  higliest  dreams 
of  the    comitryside,   yet    to    be    fondly    claimed    on 
coming  back  with  an  old  affection  closer  than  fame, 
as  still  the  w^ell-known  John  or  Edward  of  all  their 
contempoi'aries  in  Annan.    Nothing  could  contrast  more 
strangely  w-ith  the  idea  Avhich,  looking  back,  we  in- 
stinctively form  of  the  state  of  matters  at  that  stiiTing 
epoch,  than  this  httle  neutral-coloured  community, dimly 
penetrated  by  its  weekly  newspaper,  livmg  a  long  way 
off  from  all  startling  events,  and  only  waking  into  know- 
ledge of  the  great  commotions  going  on  around,  w^lien 
otlier  occurrences  had  obliterated  them,  and  their  in- 
terest was  exhausted.     Nor  was  there  any  intellectual 
or  spiritual  movement  among  themselves  to  make  uj). 
The  Kirk,  the  great  mainspring  of  Scottish  local  Ufe,  was 
donnant,  as  we  have  said, — as  indeed  the  Church  was  at 
this  era  in  most  places  throughout  the  world.    The  An- 
nan clergj^man  was  one  whom  oM  parishioners  still  can 
scarcely  bear  to  blame,  but  who  in  his  best  days  could 
only  be  spoken  of  with  affectionate  pity ;  a  man  whose 
habitual  respect  for  his  own  position  made  him  "always 
himself"  in  the  pulpit — a  quaint  and  melancholy  dis- 
tinction—  and  who  never  would  tolerate  the  sound  of 


TRADITIONS   OF  THE    DISTRICT. 


an  oatli  even  when  constantly  frequenting  places  where 
oaths  were  very  usual  embelhshments  of  conversation. 
Eehgion  had  httle  active  existence  in  the  place,  as 
may  be  supposed ;  but  the  decorum  which  preserved 
the  minister's  Sundays  in  unimpeachable  sobriety  kept 
up  throughout  the  community  a  certain  religious  habit, 
the  legacy  of  a  purer  generation.  Household  psalms 
still  echoed  of  nights  through  the  closed  windows,  and 
children,  brought  up  among  few  other  signs  of  piety, 
were  yet  trained  in  the  habit  of  family  prayers.  This 
was  almost  all  the  religion  which  existed  in  Puritan 
Scotland  in  these  eventful  French  Eevolution  days  ;  and 
even  this  was  owing  more  to  the  special  traditions  of 
the  soil  in  such  a  region  as  Annandale,  than  to  any 
deeper  impulse  of  faith. 

For  outside  this  comfortable  prosaic  world  was  a 
world  of  imagination  and  poetry,  never  to  be  dis- 
severed from  that  border  country.  Strange  difference 
of  a  few  centuries  !  The  Annandale  droves  went  peace- 
ably to  the  southern  market  past  many  a  naked  peel- 
house  and  austere  tower  of  defence  on  both  sides  of  the 
border  ;  but  the  country,  watched  and  guarded  by  these 
old  apparitions,  had  not  forgotten  the  moss-troopers  : 
and  far  more  clearly  and  strongly,  with  vision  scarcely 
sufficiently  removed  from  the  period  even  to  be  im- 
partial, the  district  which  held  the  Stones  of  Irongray, 
and  enclosed  many  a  Covenanter's  grave,  remembered 
that  desperate  fever  and  frenzy  of  persecution 
through  which  the  Kirk  had  once  fought  her  way.  I 
recollect,  at  a  distance  of  a  great  many  years,  the  energy 
with  which  a  woman-servant  from  that  countryside 
told  tales  of  the  "  Lag,"  who  is  the  Claverhouse  of  the 


8  Tin:   COVEXAXTERS. 

lH)rilor,  till  tlio  imnginntioii  of  a  nursery,  far  removed 
iVom  the  s[H)t,  lixod  upon  him,  iu  delianee  ol"  all  nearer 
elainis,  as  tlie  favourite  liorror, — the  weird,  accursed 
s])irit,  wlioni  younL,^  imaginations,  primitive  and  unsen- 
timental, liave  no  compunctions  about  delivering  over 
to  Satan.  This  old  world  of"  adventurous  romance  and 
martyr  legend  thrilled  and  palpitated  around  the  villages 
of  Annandale.  The  educated  people  in  the  town,  the 
^\Titer  or  the  doctor,  or  possibly  the  minister,  all  the 
men  who  were  wiser  than  their  neighbours,  might  ])er- 
liajxs  entertain  enlightened  views  touching  those  Cove- 
nanter fanatics  whom  enlightened  persons  are  not  sup- 
posed to  entertain  much  sympathy  with  ;  l)ut  in  the 
tales  of  the  iugleside — in  the  narratives  heard  by  the 
red  glow  of  the  great  kitclien  fire,  or  in  the  fann-house 
chimney  corner — enlightened  views  were  out  of  court, 
and  the  home-spmi  martyrs  of  the  soil  were  absolute 
masters  of  all  hearts  and  suffrages.  And  perhaps 
few  people  out  of  the  reach  of  such  an  influence,  can 
comprehend  the  effect  which  is  produced  upon  the 
ardent,  young,  inexperienced  imaginati(jn  by  those  fa- 
miliar tales  of  torture  endured,  and  death  accomplished, 
by  men  bearing  the  very  names  of  the  hsteners,  and 
whose  agony  and  triumph  have  occurred  in  places  of 
which  eveiy  nook  and  comer  is  famihar  to  their  eyes  ; 
the  impression  made  Ls  such  as  notliing  after  am  ever 
efface  or  obhterate ;  and  it  has  the  effect — an  effect  I 
confess  not  very  easily  explainable  to  those  who  have 
not  experienced  it — of  weaving  round  the  bald  services 
of  the  Scotch  Church  a  charm  of  imagination  more 
entrancing  and  visionary  tlian  the  highest  poetic 
ritual  could  command,  and  of  connectiiif^  her  abs(jlute 


BIRTH    OF   EDW.iED.  9 

canons  and  unpictiiresqiie  economy  ^vitll  the  highest 
epic  and  romance  of  national  faith.  Perhaps  this  warm 
recollection  of  her  martyrs,  and  of  that  fervent  devo- 
tion which  alone  can  make  martyrs  possible,  has  done 
more  to  neutralise  the  hard  common  sense  of  the 
country,  and  to  preserve  the  Scotch  Church  from  over- 
legislating  herself  into  decrepitude,  than  any  other  in- 
fluence. We  too,  like  every  other  Church  and  race, 
have  our  legends  of  the  Saints,  and  make  such  use  of 
them  in  the  depths  of  our  reserve  and  national  reticence 
as  few  strangers  guess  or  could  conceive. 

It  was  in  this  commmiity  that  Edward  Irvmg  received 
his  first  impressions.  He  was  born  on  the  4th  of 
August,  1792,  m  a  httle  house  near  the  old  town-cross 
of  Annan.  There  he  was  laid  in  his  wooden  cradle,  to 
watch  with  unconscious  eyes  the  hght  coming  in  at  the 
low,  long  window  of  his  mother's  narrow  bedchamber  ; 
or  rather,  according  to  the  ingenious  h}^30thesis  of  a 
medical  friend  of  his  own,  to  he  exercising  one  eye 
upon  that  hght,  and  intensifying  into  that  one  eye,  by 
way  of  emphatic  unconscious  prophecy  of  the  future 
habit  of  his  soul,  all  his  baby  power  of  vision — a  power 
which  the  other  eye,  hopelessly  obscured  by  the  wooden 
side  of  the  cradle,  was  then  unable  to  use,  and  never 
after  regained  ;  an  explanation  of  the  vulgar  obhquity 
called  a  squint,  which  I  venture  to  recommend  to  all 
unprejudiced  readers.  The  stairs  which  led  to  ]\irs. 
Irving's  bedchamber  ascended  through  the  kitchen, 
a  cheerful,  well-sized  apartment  as  such  houses  go  ;  and 
in  the  other  end  of  the  house,  next  to  the  kitchen,  was 
the  parlour,  a  small,  inconceivably  small  room,  in 
which  to  rear  a  family  of  eight   stalwart    sons   and 


10  Ills    rAPvENTS. 

ilaiiLrlitors,  and  to  exercise  all  the  liospitiililies  required 
by  tliat  sooiable  little  eoinimiiiity.  JUit  society  in 
Annan  was  evidently  as  indill'erent  to  a  mere  matter  of 
s])ace  as  society  in  a  more  advanced  development.  The 
tanner's  yard  was  o])])osite  the  house,  across  the  little 
street.  There  he  lived  in  the  lull  exercise  of  his  un- 
savouiy  occupation,  with  his  childi'cn  growing  up  round 
him  ;  a  quiet  man,  chiefly  visible  as  upholding  the 
somewhat  severe  disciphne  of  the  schoolmaster  against 
the  less  austere  virtue  of  the  mother,  who,  liandsome  and 
energetic,  was  the  ruling  spirit  of  the  house.  It  is  from 
Mrs.  Ii'ving  that  her  fiimily  seem  to  have  taken  that 
somewhat  solemn  and  dark  type  of  beauty  which,  mar- 
red only  by  the  intervention  of  the  wooden  cradle, 
became  famous  in  the  person  of  her  illustrious  son.  1 
do  not  say  that  she  realised  the  ordinary  popular  notion 
about  the  mothers  of  gi'eat  men  ;  but  it  is  apparent  that 
she  was  great  in  all  that  sweet  personal  health,  force  and 
energy  which  distinguished  her  generation  of  Scottish 
women ;  and  which,  perhaps,  with  the  shrewdness  and 
characteristic  individuality  whicli  accompany  it,  is  of 
more  importance  to  the  race  and  nation  than  any  de- 
gree of  mere  intellect.  "  Evangelicahsm,"  said  Edward 
Irving,  long  after,  "  has  spoiled  both  the  minds  and 
bodies  of  the  women  of  Scotland — there  are  no  women 
now  like  ray  mother."  The  devoutest  evangeUcal 
believer  might  forgive  the  son  for  that  fond  and  fihal 
sajing.  It  is  clear  that  no  convention nl  manner  of 
speech,  thought,  or  barrier  of  ecclesiastical  proprieties 
unknown  to  nature,  had  limited  the  mother  of  those 
eight  Inings,  whom  she  brought  up  accordingly  in  all 
the  freedom  of  a  life  almost  rural,  yet  amid  all  the 


PEGGY    PAINE'S   SCHOOL.  il 

warm  and  kindly  influences  of  a  community  of  friends. 
To  be  born  in  such  a  place  and  such  a  house,  was  to 
come  into  the  world  entitled  to  the  famihar  knowledge 
and  affection  of  "all  the  town" — a  fact  which  may  be 
quamtly  apprehended  in  the  present  Annan,  by  the 
number  of  nameless  quiet  old  people,  who,  half  admiring 
and  half  incredulous  of  the  fame  of  their  old  school- 
fellow, brighten  up  into  vague  talk  of  "  Edward  "  when 
a  stranger  names  his  name. 

The  first  appearance  which  Edward  Irving  made  out 
of  this  house  with  its  wooden  cradle,  was  at  a  httle 
school,  preparatory  to  more  serious  education,  kept  by 
"Peggy  Paine,"  a  relation  of  the  unfortunate  tailor- 
sceptic,  who  in  those  days  was  in  uneasy  quarters  in 
Paris,  in  the  midst  of  the  revolution.  An  old  woman, 
now  settled  for  her  old  age  in  her  native  town,  who 
had  in  after  years  encountered  her  great  townsman  in 
London,  and  remaining  loyally  faithfid  to  his  teaching 
all  her  life,  is  now,  I  suppose,  tlie  sole  representative  in 
Annan  of  the  religious  body  commonly  called  by  his 
name,  remembers  in  those  old  vernal  days  how  Edward 
helped  her  to  learn  her  letters,  and  how  they  two 
stammered  into  their  first  syllables  over  the  same  book 
in  Peggy  Paine's  httle  school.  This  was  the  beginning 
of  a  long  friendship,  as  singular  as  it  is  touching,  and 
which  may  here  be  foUowed  through  its  simple  course. 
When  Edward,  long  after,  was  the  most  celebrated 
preacher  of  his  day,  and  Hannah,  the  Annan  girl  whom 
he  had  helped  to  learn  her  letters,  was  also  in  London, 
a  servant  strugghng  in  her  own  sphere  through  the 
troubles  of  that  stormier  world,  her  old  schoolfellow 
stretched  out  his  cordial  hand  to  her,  without  a  moment's 


1-J  IFAXNAII    I>i)L'GLAS. 

sliriukinsi  iVoin  llic  work  in  wliidi  her  liaiul  was  cnQ;nfiO(]. 
Tt  wa^  iintunil  that  all  the  wmld  ;il)<»ut  her  should  soon 
know  of  that  friciulship.  And  Hannah's  "•  family  "  were 
ambitious,  like  everybody  else,  of  the  acquaintance  of  the 
hero  of  the  day.  He  was  too  much  sought  to  be  easily 
accessible,  till  the  master  and  mistress  bethought  them- 
selves of  the  hitercession  of  their  maid,  and  sent  her 
witli  their  invitation  to  back  it  by  lier  prayers.  The 
result  was  a  triumph  for  Hannah.  Irving  gratified  the 
good  people  by  going  to  dine  with  them  for  his  school- 
fellow's sake.  I  am  not  aware  that  anytlnng  romantic 
or  remarkable  came  of  the  introduction  so  accom- 
])lished,  as  perhaps  ought  to  have  happened  to  make 
the  incident  poetically  complete ;  but  I  cannot  help 
retrardinir  it  as  one  of  the  T)leasantest  of  anecdotes. 
Hannah  lives  at  Annan,  an  old  woman,  pensioned  by 
the  grateful  representative  of  the  family  whom  she  had 
faithfully  served,  and  tells  with  tears  this  story  of  her 
friend  ;  and  stands  a  homely,  solitary  pillar,  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  "  Catholic  Apostohc  Church  "  in  the 
])lace  which  gave  its  most  distinguislied  member  birth. 
The  next  stage  of  Edward's  education  was  gi'eatly  in 
advance  of  Peggy  Paine.  Schoolmasters  must  have 
been  either  a  more  remarkaljle  race  of  men  in  those 
days,  or  the  smaller  immber  of  them  must  have 
enhanced  their  claim  upon  p(4)ular  appreciation.  At 
least  it  was  no  uncommon  matter  for  the  parishes  and 
little  toAvas  of  Scotland  to  fix  Avith  pride  upon  their 
schoolmaster  as  the  greatest  boast  of  their  district.  Such 
was  the  case  with  Mr.  Adam  no])e,  who  taught  the 
young  L'A'ings,  and  after  them  a  certain  Thomas  Carlyle 
from  Ecclefechan,  with  other  not  undistinguished  men. 


ANNAN   ACADEMY.  13 

There  were  peculiarities  iu  that  system  of  education. 
People   below,  the  rank  of  gentry  did  not  think  of 
sending  their  daughters  to  what  were  called  boarding- 
schools  ;    or  at  least  were  subject  to  much  derisive 
remark  if  they  ventured  on  such  an  open  e\idence  of 
ambition.     The  female  schools  in  existence  were  dis- 
tinctively sewing  schools,  and  did  not  pretend  to  do 
much  for  the  intellect ;  so  that  boys  and  girls  trooped 
in  together,  ahke  to  the  parish-school  and  the  superior 
Academy,  sat  together  on  the  same  forms,  stood  together 
in  the  same  classes,  and  not  mifrequently  entered  into 
tough  combats  for  prizes  and  distinctions,  whimsical 
enough  to  hear  of  now-a-days.    Of  this  description  was 
the  Annan  Academy,  at  which  Edward  does  not  appear 
to  have  taken  any  remarkable  position.     He  does  not 
seem  even  to  have  attained  the  distinction  of  one  of 
those  dunces  of  genius  who  are  not  unknown  to  litera- 
ture.     Under  the  severe  discipline  of  those  days,  he 
sometimes  came  home  from  school  with  his  ears  "pinched 
until  they  bled,"  to  his  mother's  natural  resentment ;  but 
found  no  solace  to  his  wounded  feelings  or  members 
from  his  father,  who  sided  with  the  master,  and  does 
not  seem  to  have  feared  the  effect  of  such  trifles  upon 
the  sturdy  boys  who  were  all  destined  to  fight  theu- 
way  upward  by  the  brain  rather  than  the  hands.     The 
only  real  glimpse  which  is  to  be  obtained  of  Edward  in 
his   school   days  discloses  the  mournful   picture  of  a 
boy  "  kept  in,"  and  comforted  in  the  ignominious  soh- 
tude  of  the  school-room  by  having  his  "  piece  "  hoisted 
up  to  him  by  a  cord  through  a  broken  window.    How- 
ever, he  showed  some  liking  for  one  branch  of  educa- 
tion, that  of  mathematics,  in  which  he  afterwards  dis- 


14  OUTDOOU   EDUCATION. 

tinguisliod  liimsrlf.  ll  was  tin*  jiractice  in  Aimau  to 
devote  one  clay  »»!'  tlic  week  si)e('ially  l<>  inathematical 
lessons,  an  exceptional  clay,  wliirh  the  boys  hailed  as 
a  kind  of  holiday. 

The  little  town,  however,  was  not  destitute  of  classical 
ambition.  Tradition  tells  of  a  certain  blind  John  who 
had  i^icked  u]i  a  knowledge  of  Latin  in  the  parish  school, 
chii'lly  from  hearing  the  lessons  of  other  boys  there ; 
and  had  struggled  somehow  to  such  a  height  of  latinity 
that  his  teaching  and  his  pupils  were  renowned  as  far 
as  Edinburgh,  whore  awful  ]irofcssors  did  not  scorn  to 
acknowledge  his  attainments.  It  is  probable  that 
Edward  did  not  study  under  this  unauthorised  in- 
structor ;  and  the  orthodox  prelections  of  the  Academy 
did  not  develop  the  literaiy  inclinations  of  the  athletic 
boy,  who  found  more  engrossmg  interests  in  every  glen 
and  hillside.  For  nothing  was  wanting  to  the  perfec- 
tion of  his  education  out  of  doors.  There  were  hills 
to  climb,  a  river  close  at  hand,  a  hospitable  and  friendly 
countiy  to  be  explored ;  and  the  miniature  port  at  the 
Waterfoot,  where  impetuous  Sol  way  bathed  with  tawny 
salt  waves  the  little  pier,  and  boats  that  tempted  forth 
the  adventurous  boyhood  of  Annan.  Early  in  Edward's 
life  he  became  distinguished  for  feats  of  swimming, 
Avalking,  rowing,  chmbing,  all  sorts  of  open-air  exer- 
cises. The  main  cun-ent  of  his  energy  flowed  out  in 
this  direction,  and  not  in  that  of  books.  His  scattered 
kindred  gave  full  occasion  for  long  walks  and  such 
local  knowledge  as  adventurous  schoolboys  delight  in  ; 
and  when  he  and  his  companions  went  to  Dornoch,  to 
his  mother's  early  home,  where  his  uncles  still  lived, 
it  was  Edward's  amusement,  says  a  surviving  relative, 


SOLWAY   SANDS.  15 

to  leap  all  the  gates  in  the  way.  This  fact  survives  all 
the  speculations  that  may  have  been  in  the  boy's  brain 
on  that  rural,  thoughtful  road.  His  thoughts,  if  he  had 
any,  dispersed  into  the  hstening  air  and  left  no  sign ;  but 
there  can  be  no  mistake  about  the  leapmg  of  the  gates. 
In  this  early  period  of  his  hfe  he  is  said  to  have  met 
with  an  adventure,  sufficiently  picturesque  and  impor- 
tant to  be  recorded.  Every  one  who  knows  the 
Solway  is  aware  of  the  pecidiarities  of  that  singular 
estuary.  When  tlie  tide  is  full,  a  nobler  firth  is  not  to 
be  seen  than  this  brimming  flood  of  green  sea-water, 
with  Skiddaw  glooming  on  the  other  side  over  the 
softer  slopes  of  Cumberland,  and  CrifTel  standing  sen- 
tinel on  this,  upon  the  Scotch  sea-border ;  but  when 
the  tide  is  out,  woehil  and  lamentable  is  the  change. 
Solway,  shrunk  to  a  tithe  of  its  size,  meanders,  gleaming 
through  vast  banks  of  sand,  leaving  here  and  there  a 
little  desert  standing  bare  in  the  very  midst  of  its  chan- 
nel, covered  with  stake-nets  wliich  raise  their  heads  in 
the  strangest,  unexpected  way,  upon  a  spot  where  vessels 
of  considerable  burden  might  have  passed  not  many 
hours  before.  The  firth,  indeed,  is  so  reduced  in  size 
by  the  ebbing  of  the  tide,  that  it  is  possible  to  ride,  or 
even  to  drive  a  cart  across  from  one  side  to  the  other ; 
a  feat,  indeed,  which  is  daily  accomphshed,  and  whicli 
might  furnish  a  little  variation  upon  the  ancient  ro- 
mantic routine  of  Gretna  Green,  as  the  ferryman  at  the 
Brough  was  in  former  times  equally  qualified  with  the 
blacksmith  at  the  border  toll,  and  not  without  much 
patronage,  though  his  clients  were  humbler  fugitives. 
When,  however,  Solway  sets  about  liis  daily  and  nightly 
reflow,  he  does  it  with  a  rush  and  impetuosity  worthy 


10  ESCAriNC    FKOM    THE    TIDE. 

of  tlu'  >|);irr  ]\v  has  to  fill,  and  is  a  (laiijjjerous  play- 
lollow  Avlu'ii  "at  tlic  turn."  One  day,  while  tlicy  were 
t^till  children,  Joliii  and  lulward  Irving  are  said  to  htive 
strayed  down  iijion  these  great  sands,  with  the  original 
intention  of  meeting  their  uncle,  George  Lowther,  who 
was  exi)ected  to  cross  Solway  at  the  ebb,  on  his  way  to 
Annan.  The  scene  was  specially  charming  in  its  wild 
solitude  and  freedom.  In  that  wilderness  of  sand  and 
shingle,  with  its  gleaming  salt-water  pools  clear  as  so 
many  mirrors,  full  of  curious  creatures  still  unknown 
to  di'awing-room  science,  but  not  to  schoolboy  observa- 
tion, the  boys  presently  forgot  all  about  their  imme- 
diate errand,  and,  absorbed  in  tlieir  own  amusements, 
thouijht  neither  of  their  uncle  nor  of  the  risino;  tide. 
While  thus  occuj^ied,  a  horseman  suddenly  came  up  to 
them  at  full  gallop,  seized  first  one  and  then  the  other 
of  the  astonished  boys,  and  throwing  them  across  the 
neck  of  his  horse,  galloped  on  without  pausing  to 
addi'ess  a  word  to  them,  or  even  perceiving  who  they 
were.  WHien  they  liad  safely  reached  the  higher 
shingly  bank,  out  of  reach  of  the  pursuing  tide,  he 
drew  bridle  at  last,  and  pointed  back  breathless  to 
where  he  had  I'ound  tliem.  The  startled  children, 
perceiving  the  danger  they  had  escaped,  saw  the  tawny 
"waves  pursuing  almost  to  where  they  stood,  and  the 
sands  on  which  they  had  l3een  playing  Ijuried  far 
under  that  impetuous  sea ;  anel  it  was  only  then  that 
the  happy  Hercules-uncle  discovered  that  it  was  his 
sister's  sons  whom  he  had  saved.  Had  George  Lowther 
been  ten  minutes  later,  one  of  the  noblest  tragic  chap- 
ters of  individual  hfe  in  the  nineteenth  century  need 
never  have  been  written ;    and   his   native  seas,  less 


EARLY    CHARACTERISTICS.  17 

bitter  than  the  sea  of  hfe  that  swallowed  him  up  at  last, 
would  have  received  the  undeveloped  fortunes  of  the 
blameless  Annan  boy. 

Another  momentary  incident,  much  less  picturesque 
and  momentous,  yet  characteristic  enough,  disperses 
for  the  minutest  point  of  time  the  mists  of  sixty  years, 
and  shows  us  two  urgent  cliildish  petitioners,  Edward 
with  his  httle  brother  George,  at  the  door  of  a  neigh- 
bour's house  in  Annan,  where  there  was  a  party,  at  which 
Mrs.  Irving  was  one  of  the  guests.  Edward  was  so 
pertinacious  in  his  determination  to  see  his  mother, 
that  the  circumstance  impressed  itself  upon  the  me- 
mory of  one  of  the  children  of  the  house,  ^ii^s.  Irving 
at  last  went  to  the  door  to  speak  to  her  children, 
probably  apprehensive  of  some  domestic  accident ;  but 
found  that  the  occasion  of  all  this  urgency  was  Edward's 
anxiety  to  be  permitted  to  give  some  of  his  own  hnen 
to  a  sick  lad  who  was  in  special  want  of  it.  The 
permission  was  given,  the  boys  plunged  joyful  back 
into  the  darkness,  and  the  mother  returned  to  her 
party,  wdiei'e,  doubtless,  she  told  the  tale  with  such 
pretended  censure  as  mothers  use.  Momentary  and 
shght  as  the  incident  is,  it  is  still  appropriate  to  the 
early  history  of  one  who  in  his  after  days  could  never 
give  enough,  to  whosoever  lacked. 

Even  at  this  early  period  of  his  existence,  it  has 
been  said  that  Irving  was  prematurely  solemn  and 
remarkable  in  his  manners,  "  making  it  apparent  that 
he  was  not  a  child  as  others,"  and  having  "  a  significant 
elevation  of  manners  and  choice  of  pleasures."  I  can 
find  no  traces  of  any  such  precocity ;  nor  is  it  easy 
to  fancy  how  a  natural  boy,   in  such  a  shrewd  and 

VOL.   L  c 


18  SLWDAV    ril/iKIMAOKS. 

humorous  rouununiiv.  wlicro  jionij)  of  niiy  kind  \V(Mi1(1 
liavo  boon  sixwlilv   lauixhecl  out.   ol"  liim,  could   have 
sliown  any  such  sinujularity.     Nor  was  lie  ever  in  the 
sh'jhtest  dcixree  (^f  tliat  abstract  and  sclt-absorbed  fasliiou 
of  mind  Avliicli  makes  a  child  remarkable.     lie  seems, 
however,  to  liave  sought,  and  got  access  to,  a  certain 
kind  of  society  wliich,  though  ])erhaps  odd  enough  for 
a  schoolboy,  was  such  as  all  children  of  lively  uiind  and 
generous  sympathies  love.     At  this  early  period  of  his 
life  it  was  his  occasional  habit  on  Sundays  to  walk  five 
or  six  miles  to  the  little  village  of  Ecclefechan.  in  com- 
pany  with  a  pilgrim  band  of  the  religious  patriarchs  of 
Annan,  to  attend  a  little  church  established  there  by 
one  of  the  earher  bodies  of  seceders  from  the  Church 
of  Scotland  ;  an  act  which  has  been  attributed  to  his 
dissatisfaction  with  the  preaching  and  character  of  the 
Annan  minister,  already  referred  to,  and  his  precocious 
appreciation  of  sound  doctrine  and  fervent  piety.     The 
fact  is  doubtless  true    enough ;    but  I  thirds  it  very 
uiihkely  that  any  premature  love  for  sermons  or  dis- 
crunination    c)f  their  quality  was  the  cause.      Scotch 
dissenters,  in  their  earlier  development  at  least,  were  all 
doubly  Presbyterian.     The  very  ground  of  their  dissent 
was  not  any  widening  out  of  doctrine  or  alteration  of 
Church  government,  but  only  a  re-assertion  and  closer 
return  to  the  primitive  principles  of  the  Kirk  itself — 
a  fact  which  popular  discrimination  in  the  south   of 
Scotland  acknowledged  by  referring  back  U)  the  uii for- 
gotten "  persecuting  times  "  for  a  name,  and  entithng 
the  seceders  "  Wliigs  " — a  name  Avliich  they  retained 
until  very  recent  days  in  those  simple-minded  districts. 
The  pious  people  who  either  originated  or  gladly  took 


THE    "WHIGS."  19 

advantage  of  such  humble  attempts  to  recall  the  Church 
to  herself,  and  bring  back  rehgion  to  a  covenanted 
but  unfaithful  country,  were  thus  identified  with  the 
saints  and  martyrs,  of  whom  the  whole  countryside  was 
eloquent.  They  were,  as  was  natural,  the  gravest  class 
of  the  community  ;  men  wdio  vexed  their  righteous 
souls  day  by  day  over  the  shortcomings  of  the  minister 
and  the  worldly-mindedness  of  the  people  ;  and  proved 
their  covenanting  lineage  by  piety  of  an  heroic,  austere 
pitch  beyond  the  level  of  their  neighbours. 

Young  Edward  Irving  had  already  made  liis  way, 
as  most  imaginative  children  manase  to  do,  into  the 
confidence  of  the  old  people,  w^ho  knew  and  w^ere 
not  reluctant  to  tell  the  epics  of  their  native  dis- 
tricts: and  those  epics  were  all  covenanting  tales  — 
tragedies  abrupt  and  forcible,  or  lingering,  long-drawn 
narratives,  more  fascinating  still,  in  which  all  human 
motives,  hopes,  and  ambitions  were  lost  in  the  one  aU- 
engrossing  object  of  existence,  the  preservation  and 
confession  of  the  truth.  With  glowing,  youthful 
cheeks,  fresh  from  the  moor  or  the  frith,  the  boy 
penetrated  into  the  cottage  firesides,  where  the  fragrant 
peat  threw  its  crimson  glow  through  the  apartment, 
and  the  old  man  or  the  old  w^oman,  in  the  leisure  of 
their  age,  sat  in  the  great  highbacked  chair  with  its 
checked  Unen  cover ;  and  with  a  curiosity  still  more 
wistful  and  eager,  as  though  about  to  see  those 
triumphs  of  faith  repeated,  trudged  forth  in  the 
summer  Sunday  afternoons,  unbonneted,  with  his  black 
locks  ruffling  m  the  wind  and  his  cap  in  his  hand,  amid 
the  little  band  of  patriarchs,  through  hedgerows  frag- 
rant with  every  succession  of  blossom,  to  where  the 

c  2 


20  ECCLKFKCIIAX. 

low  frrey  liill^  closed  in  ar.Miiid  llmt  lilllc  lininlcl  of 
Eoclefedian,  J:!cch'sl(j  Fcc/ianus,  forsjfotU'ii  shiiiic  ol" 
some  imineinorial  Celtic  saint;  a  scene  not  irrandly 
])ictures(|iu',  hut  lull  of  a  sweet  ])astoral  freedom  and 
i>ulitiide ;  the  hills  ri>inLr  ltivv  a'jainst  the  sky,  wilh 
slopes  of  springy  turf,  where  the  sheep  pastured,  and 
shepherds  of  an  antique  type  ]ioudered  the  ways  of 
God  with  men  :  the  road  crossed  at  many  a  point,  and 
sometimes  accomi)anied,  b}'  tiny  brooklets,  too  small 
to  claim  a  separate  name,  tinkling  unseen  among  the 
gras.'^  and  luiderwood  to  join  some  bigger  but  still  tiny 
tributar}-  of  the  Annan,  streams  which  had  no  pre- 
tensions to  be  rivers,  but  Avere  only '•  waters"  like 
Annan  water  it-elf.  To  me  this  couutiy  gleams  ^vitli 
a  perpetual  youth  ;  the  hills  rise  clear  and  wistful 
through  the  sharp  air,  this  Avith  its  Eoman  camp 
indented  on  its  side,  tliat  with  its  melancholy  Eepen- 
tance  Tower  standing  out  upon  the  height ;  the  moor 
brightens  forth  as  one  approaches  into  sweet  breaks  of 
heather  and  golden  clumps  of  gorse  ;  the  burns  sing 
in  a  never-failing  liquid  cheerfulness  through  all  their 
invisible  courses ;  freedom,  breadth,  silence,  t(3uched 
with  all  those  delicious  noises:  the  quiet  hamlets  and 
cottages  breathing  forth  that  aromatic  betrayal  of  all 
their  warm  turf  fires.  Place  in  this  landscape  that 
grave  group  npon  the  way,  bending  their  steps  to  the 
iTide  meeting-house  in  which  their  austere  worship 
AVas  to  be  celebrated,  holding  discourse  as  they  ap- 
I)roachcd  upon  subjects  not  so  much  of  religious 
feeling  as  of  high  metaphysical  theology ;  with  the 
boy  among  them,  curiously  attracted  by  their  talk, 
timing  his  elastic  footsteps  to  their  heavj"  tread,  making 


HIS   YOUTHFUL   COMP ANIONS.  21 

his  unconscious  comments,  a  wonderful  impersonation 
of  perennial  youth  and  genius,  half  leading,  half  fol- 
lowing, always  specially  impressed  by  the  grey  fathers 
of  that  world  which  dawns  all  fresh  and  dewy  upon  his 
own  vision  ;  and  I  cannot  fancy  a  better  pictiure  of  old 
Scotland  as  it  was  in  its  most  characteristic  districts 
and  individual  phase. 

This   seems  the   only  foundation  from  which  pre- 
cocious seriousness  can  be  inferred,  and  it  is  an  impor- 
tant and   interesting   feature   of   his   boyhood.      The 
Whig   elders   no   doubt  unconsciously    prepared    the 
germs  of  that  old-world  statehness  of  speech  and  dig- 
nity of  manner  which  afterwards  distinguished   their 
pupil ;  and   they,  and   the  traditions   to  which   they 
had   served   themselves   heirs,   made   all    the    hio;her 
element  and  poetry  of  Hfe  which  was  to  be  found  in 
Annan.     Theh  influence,  however,  did  not  withdraw 
him   from   the    society   of   his    fellows.      The   social 
instinct  was  at  all  times  too  strong  in  him  to  be  pre- 
vented from  making  friends  wherever  he  found  com- 
panions.    His  attachment  to  his  natural  comrade,  his 
brother   John,  is  touchingly  proved  by  the  fact  we 
have  already  noted  ;    and  another  boyish  friendship, 
formed  with  Hugh  Clapperton  the  African  traveUer, 
who  was,  like  himself,  a  native  of  Annan,  concluded 
only  with  the  death  of  that  intrepid  explorer.     Young 
Clapperton  hved  in  an  adjoining  house,  Avhich  was  the 
property  of  Gavin  Irving,  and  the  same  "  yard "  with 
its  elm  trees  was  common  to  both  the  famihes.     The 
boys  sometimes  shared  their  meals,  and  often  the  fire- 
side corner,  where  they  learned  their  lessons  ;  and  the 
adventurous   instinct   of   young  Clapperton  evidently 


22  STRANHE    lUSr'KUSIOX. 

li:ul  no  small  inlluonro  u]^oii  \ho  dronms.  at  least,  of 
liis  youngor  coin])ani(>ii.  <  M"  tlirsi'  tliive  boys,  so 
vigorous,  bold,  ami  daring,  not  one  lived  to  be  old  ; 
and  tlieir  destinies  are  a  singular  ])ro()r  (if  llie  Avide 
dilVusion  of  life  and  energy  oireling  out  from  one  of 
the  most  ubseure  spots  in  the  eounlry.  One  Avas  to 
die  in  India,  uncommemorated  except  by  love  ;  one  in 
Africa,  a  hero  (or  victim)  of  that  dread  science  which 
makes  stepping-stones  of  men's  lives;  the  third,  at  a 
greater  distance  still  from  that  boyish  chinmey-corner, 
at  the  height  of  fame,  genius,  and  sorrow,  was  to  die, 
a  sign  and  wonder,  like  other  prophets  before  him. 
It  is  sad  to  connect  the  conclusion  with  a  beginning 
which  bore  httle  foreboding  of  such  trairic  elements. 
But  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  note  the  boyish  conclave 
■snthout  thinking  of  the  singular  fortunes  and  lar 
separation  to  which  they  were  destined.  The  friend- 
ship that  commenced  thus  was  renewed  when  Clapper- 
ton  and  Irving  met  in  London,  both  famous  men;  and 
the  last  communication  sent  to  England  by  the  dying 
traveller  was  addressed  to  his  early  friend. 

The  httle  town  was  at  this  period  in  a  prosperous 
condition,  and  thriving  well.  AN'licn  war  quickened 
the  traffic  in  provisions,  and  increased  their  value, 
Annan  exported  corn  as  well  as  droves.  I3ut  the  in- 
dustry of  the  population  was  leisurely  and  old-fashi(jned, 
much  unlike  the  modern  type.  Many  of  the  poorer 
folk  about  were  salmon-fishers ;  l^ut  liad  no  such  market 
for  their  wares  as  now-a-days,  when  salmon  in  Annan 
is  about  as  dear,  and  rather  more  difficult  to  be  had, 
than  salmon  in  London.  "WHien  there  had  been  a  good 
"  t^ike,"  the  fishermen  lounged  about  the  Cross,  or 
amused  themselves  in  their  gardens,  till  that  windfall 


HOME   IXFLUEXCES,  23 

was  spent  and  exhausted,  very  much  as  if  they  had 
been  mere  Celtic  fishermen  instead  of  cautious  Scots ; 
and  the  slow  gains  of  the  careful  burgesses  came  more 
from  economy  than  enterprise.    Gavin  Irving,  however, 
made  progress  in  his  tanner's  yard  :  he  became  one  of 
the  magistrates  of  Annan,  whose  principal  duty  it  was 
to  go  to  chiu-ch  in  state,  and  set  an  official  example  of 
well-doing.     Tradition  does  not  say  whether  his  son's 
passion  for  the  Whigs,  and  expeditions  to  the  Seceders' 
meeting-house  at  Ecclefechan, brought  any  "persecution" 
upon  the  boy ;  so  it  is  probable  those  heterodox  preach- 
ings were  attended  only  in  summer  evenings,  and  on  spe- 
cial occasions,  when  Annan  kirk  was  closed.    There  were 
clerical  relations  on  both  sides  of  the  house  scattered 
through  Dumfriesshire,  to  whom  the  boys  seem  to  have 
paid  occasional  visits ;  one  of  them.  Dr.  Bryce  John- 
stone, of  Holywood,  an  imcle  of  Mrs.  Irving's,  being  a 
notable  person  among  his  brethren  ;  but,  farther  than 
the  familiarity  which  this  gave  with  the  surrounding 
country,  no  special  traces   of  the  advantages  of  such 
intercourse  exist.     The  loftier  aspect  of  rehgion  was  in 
the  Wliig  cottages,  and  not  in  those  cosy  manses  to  which 
Dr.  Carlyle,  of  Inveresk,  has  lately  introduced  all  readers. 
It  would  be  almost  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  in- 
fluence which  aU  the  homely  circumstances  and  habits 
of  his  native  place  exercised  upon  a  mind  so  oj)en  to 
every  influence  as  that  of  Irving.  Despite  his  own  strong 
individuality,  he  never  seems  to  have  come  in  contact 
with  any  mind  of  respectable  powers  Avithout  taking 
something  from  it.     His  eyes  Avere  always  open,  his 
ingenuous  heart  ever  awake  ;  and  the  enthusiastic  ad- 
miration of  which  he  was  capable  stamped  such  things 


24  LEAVIXfi    AX.VAN. 

as  npjvaroil  tt)  liim  Idvoly,  (^r  Imiiost.  ("n*  of  good  ropiito, 
imk'lihly  upon  liis  mind.      Much  lliat    Avould  bo  otlier- 
wise  inexplicable  in  liis  later  life  is  explained  by  this  ; 
and   it  is  not  diHieult  to  trace  the  \vorkings  of  those 
early  inlluences  which  surrounded  him  in  his  childhood 
throughout  lu>  life.    Tliat,  however,  \v ill  be  more  eflec- 
tually  done  as  the  stoiy  advances  than  by  any  parallel 
of  >ULriiestions  and  acts.    His  schuul  education  in  Annan 
terminated  when  he  was  only  thirteen,  without  any 
distmction  except  that  arithmetical  one  which  has  been 
already  noted.     This  concluded  the  period  of  his  child- 
hood :  his  next  step  subjected  him  to  other  influences 
not  less  powerful,  and  directed  the  course  of  his  young 
life  away  fi'oni  that  home  which  always  retained  his 
affections.     The  home  remained  planted  in  his  kindly 
native  soil  for  many  years,  long  enough  to  receive  his 
chddi'en  under  its  ](mi1',  and  many  of  his  friends,  and 
always  honoured  and  distinguished  by  himself  in  its 
unchanging  homeliness.     His  childish  presence  throws 
a  passing  light  over  httle  Annan,  rude  and  kindly,  with 
its  fragrant  aroma  of  peat  from  all  the  cottage  fires  ;  its 
quiet  street,  where  groups  of  talkers  gathered  in  many 
a  leisurely  confabulation;  its  neighbourly  existence,  close 
and  familiar.     Such  places  might  never  be  heard  of  in 
the  world  but  for  the  rising  of  individual  lights  which 
illuminate  them  unawares,  —  lights  which  have  been 
frequent  in  Armandale.  Such  a  tender  soul  as  Grahame, 
the  poet  of  the  Sabbath,  shines  softly  into  that  obscure 
perspective;  and  it   flashes  out  before  contemporary 
eyes,   and   warms    upon    the    remembrance   of   after 
generations,  in  reflections  from  the  stormy  and  [)atlietic 
splendour  of  the  subject  of  this  history. 


25 


CHAPTER  II. 

HIS     COLLEGE-LIFE. 

At  thirteen  Irving  began  Ms  studies  at  the  Edinburgli 
University :  such  was,  and  is  still,  to  a  great  extent, 
the  custom  of  Scotch  universities, — a  habit  which,  like 
every  other  educational  habit  in  Scotland,  promotes  the 
diffusion  of  a  httle  learning,  and  aU  the  practical  uses 
of  knowledge,  but  makes  the  profounder  depths  of 
scholarship  almost  impossible.  It  was  nearly  universal 
in  those  days,  and  no  doubt  partly  originated  in  the 
very  long  course  of  study  demanded  by  the  Church 
(always  so  influential  in  Scotland,  and  acting  upon  the 
habits  even  of  those  who  are  not  devoted  to  her  service), 
from  apphcants  for  the  ministry.  This  lengthened 
process  of  education  cannot  be  better  described  than  in 
the  words  used  by  Irving  himself,  at  a  much  later 
period  of  his  hfe,  and  used  with  natiual  pride,  as  setting 
forth  what  his  beloved  Chiu"ch  required  of  her  neo- 
phytes. "  In  respect  to  the  ministers,"  he  says,  "  this  is 
required  of  them,^ — that  they  should  have  studied  for 
four  years  in  a  university  aU  the  branches  of  a  classical 
and  philosophical  education ;  and  either  taken  the  rank 
in  hterature  of  a  Master  of  Arts,  or  come  out  from  the 
university  with  certificates  of  their  proficiency  in  the 
classics,  in  mathematics,  in  logic,  and  in  natural  and 
moral  philosophy.     They  are  then,  and  not  till  then, 


'26         rUOLONGKl)    TROnATION    OF   SCOTCH    MIXISTHRS. 

perinittoil  to  ontrr  iij^oii  llu'  >\\u]y  of  llicology,  orwliich 
the  profossoi^  aro  onhiiiiod  miiiislcrs  of  tlie  Churcli, 
clioson  to  tlioir  oli'ux'.  Uiulor  separate  })rofb.ssors  they 
^tiuly  theoloiry,  Hebrew,  ami  I'celesiastical  history,  for 
four  years,  attendinsx  from  Wniv  to  six  inoiilhs  in  each 
year.  Thus  eight  years  are  eniisuiued  iu  sLuily."  This 
is,  perhaps,  the  ouly  excuse  wliieli  can  be  miidc  ("or 
sending  boys,  still  little  more  than  childnMi,  into  Avhat 
ought  to  be  the  higher  labours  of  a  university.  Even 
beginning  at  such  an  age,  the  full  course  of  study 
exacted  from  a  youth  in  training  for  the  Church  could 
not  be  completed  till  he  had  reached  his  twenty-first 
year,  when  all  the  repeated  "  trials  "  of  the  Presbytery 
liad  still  to  follow  before  he  could  enter  upon  his  voca- 
tion;  an  apparent  and  coniprelien-^ihlc  reason,  if  not 
excuse,  for  a  custom  wliicli,  according  t(j  the  bitter 
complaints  of  its  victims,  turns  the  university  into  a 
kind  of  superior  grammar  school. 

At  thirteen,  accordingly,  Edward,  accompanied  by 
his  elder  brother  John,  who  was  destined  for  the  medi- 
cal profession,  came  to  Edinburgh  under  the  charge  of 
some  relatives  of  their  Annan  schoolfellow,  Hugh  Claj)- 
perton ;  and  the  tw^o  lads  were  deposited  in  a  lofty 
chamljcr  in  tlie  old  town,  near  the  college,  to  pursue 
their  studies  with  such  diligence  as  was  in  them.  Even 
to  such  youthful  sons  the  Edinburgh  University  has 
no  personal  shelter  to  offer :  then,  as  now,  the  Alma 
Mater  was  a  mere  aljstract  mass  of  class-rooms,  mu- 
seums, and  libraries,  and  the  youths  or  boys  who  sought 
instruction  there  were  left  in  absolute  freedom  to  their 
own  devices.  Perhaps  the  youtlis  thus  launched  upon 
the  world  were  too  young  to  take  mucli  liarm ;  or 


BOY-STUDENTS.  27 

perhaps  tliat  early  necessity  of  self-regulation,  imposed 
under  different  and  harder  cuxumstances  than  those 
which  .  have  brought  the  Enghsli  pubhc  schools  into 
such  fresh  repute  and  popularity,  bore  all  the  fruit 
which  it  is  now  hoped  and  behoved  to  produce.  But 
whatever  may  be  the  virtues  of  self-government,  it  is 
impossible  to  contemplate  without  a  singular  interest 
and  amaze,  the  spectacle  of  these  two  boys,  one  thir- 
teen, the  other,  probably,  about  fifteen,  placed  alone  in 
their  httle  lodging  in  the  picturesque  but  noisy  old 
town  of  Edinburgh,  for  six  long  months  at  a  stretch, 
to  manage  themselves  and  their  education,  without 
tutors,  without  home  care,  without  any  stimulus  but 
that  to  be  received  in  the  emulation  of  the  class-room, 
or  from  their  books  and  their  own  ambition.  These 
circumstances,  however,  were  by  no  means  remarkable 
or  out  of  the  common  course  of  things ;  and  the  sur- 
prise with  which  we  look  back  to  so  strange  a  picture 
of  boyish  life  would  not  have  been  shared  by  the  con- 
temporary spectators  who  saw  the  south-country  boys 
coming  and  going  to  college  without  perceiving  any- 
thing out  of  the  way  in  it.  The  manner  in  which  the 
little  estabhshment  was  kept  up  is  wonderfully  primi- 
tive to  hear  of  at  so  short  a  distance  from  our  sophisti- 
cated times.  Now  and  then  the  lads  received  a  box 
from  home,  sent  by  the  carrier,  or  by  some  "  private 
opportunity,"  full  of  oatmeal,  cheese,  and  other  homely 
necessities,  and  doubtless  not  without  lighter  embel- 
lishments to  prove  the  mother's  care  for  her  boys. 
Probably  their  hnen  was  conveyed  back  and  forward 
to  the  home-laundry  by  the  same  means ;  so  that  the 
money  expense  of  the  tiny  estabhshment,  with  its  por- 


2"^  IN'DKrF.XnKNCK. 

ridge  tluis  provided,  jind  its  home  relishes  of  liam  and 
cheese,  makinir  the  sclioolboy  board  festive,  iniist  liave 
been  of  tlie  most  limited  amount.  Altogether  it  is  a 
(juaint  httle  picture  of  the  patriarchal  life,  now  de- 
})arted  for  ever.  No  private  opportunities  now-a-days 
earrv  such  boxes :  and  those  verv  railwavs,  which  make 
the  merest  village  next  neighbour  to  all  the  woiid, 
have  made  an  end  of  those  direct  primitive  communi- 
cations from  the  family  table  to  its  absent  members. 
Nor  is  it  easy  to  beheve  that  boys  of  thirteen,  Uving 
in  lonely  independence  in  Edinburgh,  where  the  veiy 
streets  are  seducinir  and  full  of  fascinations,  and  where 
every  gleam  of  sunshine  on  the  hills,  and  flash  of  reflec- 
tion from  the  visible  Firth  must  draw  youthful  thoughts 
away  from  the  steep  gracilis  of  a  learning  not  hitherto 
found  particularly  attractive,  could  li\e  within  those 
strait  and  nari'ow  limits  and  bear  such  a  probation. 
But  times  were  harder  and  simpler  in  the  first  twenty 
years  of  the  century.  Scotland  was  a  hundred  times  more 
Scotch,  more  individual,  more  separate  from  its  weal- 
tliier  yoke-fellow  than  now.  No  greater  contrast  to  the 
life  of  undergraduates  in  an  ancient  English  university, 
could  be  imagined,  than  that  presented  by  those  boy- 
students  in  their  lofty  chamber,  detached  from  all  colle- 
giate associations,  Hving  in  the  midst  of  a  working-day 
population,  utterly  unimpressed  by  the  neighbourhood 
of  a  university,  and  interpolating  the  homely  youthful 
idyll  of  their  existence  into  the  noisy,  bustling,  scold- 
ing, not  over-savoury  life  of  that  old  town  of  Edinburgh. 
Even  such  a  vestijze  of  academical  dress  as  is  to  be 
found  in  the  quaint  red  gown  of  Glasgow  is  unknown 
to  the  rigid  Protestantism  of  the  Scotch  metropohs. 


HARD    TKAIXIXG.  29 

The  boys  came  and  went,  undistinguished,  in  their 
country  caps  and  jackets,  through  streets,  which,  full  of 
character  as  they  are,  suggest  nothing  so  little  as  the 
presence  of  a  college,  and  returned  to  their  studies  in 
their  httle  room,  with  neither  tutor  nor  assistant  to 
help  them  through  their  difficulties,  and  Uved  a  life  of 
unconscious  austerity,  in  which  they  themselves  did  not 
perceive  either  the  poverty  or  the  hardship  ;  which, 
indeed,  it  is  probable  they  themselves,  and  all  belong- 
ing to  them,  would  have  been  equally  amazed  and 
indignant  to  have  heard  either  hardship  or  poverty 
attributed  to.  Crowds  of  other  lads,  from  all  parts  of 
Scotland,  hved  a  similar  hfe  ;  the  homely  fare  and  spare 
accommodation,  the  unassisted  studies  ;  an.d  hi  most 
cases,  as  soon  as  that  was  practicable,  personal  exer- 
tions as  teachers  or  otherwise,  to  help  in  the  expense 
of  theu^  own  education,  looked  almost  a  natural  and 
inevitable  beginning  to  the  hfe  they  were  to  lead. 

By  such  methods  of  instruction  few  men  are  trained 
to  pursue  and  love  learning  for  learning's  sake  ;  but 
only  by  such  a  Spartan  method  of  training  the  young- 
soldiers  of  the  future,  could  the  Annan  tanner,  with 
eight  children  to  provide  for,  have  given  all  his  sons 
an  education  qualifying  them  for  professional  hfe  and 
future  advancement. 

The  Edinburgh  "  Session  "  lasts  only  from  November 
till  May ;  leaving  the  whole  summer  free  for  the  re- 
creation, or,  more  probably,  the  labours  of  the  self- 
supporting  students.  Indeed,  the  whole  system  seems 
based  upon  the  necessity  of  allowing  time  for  the 
intervening  work  which  is  to  provide  means  for  the 
studies  that  follow.     When  the  happy  time  of  release 


30  .Un* UN  KYS    0\   VOOT. 

Mrrivcd,  our  Aiiiinn  Ixtys  sonf  n\Y  llicir  boxos  \vitli  (lio 
cnrrior,  and,  all  jovlul  and  vigorous,  set  out  walking 
Ujion  the  lionieward  road.  In  after  years  Irving  de- 
lighted ill  ])edestrian  journeys;  and  it  was  most  jiroba- 
l)ly  in  those  early  walks  that  he  learned,  what  avms  his 
liabitual  jiracticc  afterwards,  to  rest  in  the  wayside 
cottages,  and  share  the  potato  or  llic  porridge  to  be 
found  there.  The  habit  of  universal  friendliness  thus 
engendered  ditl  him  good  service  afterwards  —  for  a 
man,  accustomed  to  sucli  kindly  rehitions  Avith  the 
poorest  of  liis  neighbours,  does  not  need  any  other 
training  to  that  frank  uncondescending  courtesy  which 
is  so  dear  to  tlic  poor.  "  Edward  walked  as  tlic  crow 
flies,"  saj's  one  of  his  sun-iving  relatives  who  has  ac- 
companied those  widks  when  time  was.  Such  an 
eccentric,  joyful,  straightforwaid  ])rogress  must  have 
been  specially  refreshing  to  the  s(^hoolboy  students, 
hastening  to  all  the  delights  of  home  and  country 
fi'cedom. 

Whether  Ir\ing's  progress  during  this  period  was 
be5'ond  that  of  his  contemporaries  there  is  no  evidence  ; 
but  he  succeeded  sufficiently  well  to  take  his  degree  in 
April  1800,  when  he  was  just  seventeen,  and  to  attract 
the  friendly  regard  of  Professor  Christison,  and  of  the 
distinguished  and  eccentric  Sir  John  Leslie,  thenMathe- 
matiail  Professor  in  the  Efhnburgh  University;  both 
of  whom  interested  themselves  in  his  behalf  as  soon 
as  he  began  his  own  independent  career.  So  far  as 
the  hbrary  records  go,  he  does  not  seem  to  have  been  an 
extraordinarily  diligent  student.  There  is  a  story  told, 
which  I  have  not  l^een  able  to  trace  to  any  authentic 
bource,  of  his  having  found  in   a   farm-house,   in    the 


EARLY   READING.  31 


neighbourhood  of  Annan,  a  copy  of  Hooker's  Eccle- 
siastical Polity,  which  is  said  to  have  powerfully 
attracted  him,  and  given  an  impulse  to  his  thbuglits. 
He  is  also  said  to  have  expended  almost  the  whole 
sum  which  he  had  received  for  the  expenses  of  a 
journey  in  the  purchase  of  Hooker's  works  ;  "together 
with  some  odd  folios  of  the  Fathers,  Homer,  and  New- 
ton," and  to  have  trudged  forward  afoot  witli  the 
additional  load  upon  his  stalwart  shoulders,  in  great 
dehght  with  his  acquisition.  There  can  be  no  doubt, 
at  least,  of  his  own  reference  to  "  the  venerable  com- 
panion of  my  early  days — Eichard  Hooker."  In  op- 
position to  this  serious  reading  stand  the  Arabian 
Nights,  and  simdry  books  with  forgotten  but  suspicious 
titles,  which  appear  against  his  name  m  those  early 
times  in  the  College  library  books — most  natural  and 
laudable  reading  for  a  boy,  but  curiously  inappropriate 
as  drawn  from  the  library  of  his  College.  "  He  used 
to  carry  continually  in  his  waistcoat  pocket,"  says  one 
of  his  few  surviving  college  companions,  the  Eev.  Dr. 
Grierson,  of  Errol,  "  a  miniature  copy  of  Ossian  ;  pas- 
sages from  which  he  read  or  recited  in  his  walks  in  the 
country,  or  delivered  with  sonorous  elocution  and  vehe- 
ment gesticulation  "  for  the  benefit  of  his  companions. 
This  is  the  first  indication  I  can  find  of  his  oratorical 
gifts,  and  that  natural  magniloquence  of  style  which 
belonged  equally  to  his  mhid  and  person. 

Society  in  Edinburgh  was  at  this  period  in  its  culmi- 
nation. Those  were  the  "  Edinburgh  Eeview  "  days, 
when  the  brilliant  groups  whose  reputation  is  more 
entirely  identified  with  Edinburgh-  than  that  of  gene- 
rations still  more  exclusively  her  own,  were   in   full 


IM  PISTINCTIONS    IN    S()("II:TV. 

pDsscssioii  of  tlu'  Tu'ld.      I^tMtkiiiLT  back,  the  l(nvn  soonis 
so  occupied  and  fillod  by  that   brotln'iliood,  that  it  is 
liard  to  iniaLMiu'  tlic  strains  oi"  life  all   nnconscions  of 
its  existence,  and  scarcely  iniluenced,  even  unconsciously, 
h\  its  vicinity,  wliich  went  serenely  on  within  the  same 
limiti'd  boundaries;   and   it  is  -till    lianhr    \n    fancy  a 
yiHith   of  genius  |un>iiiiiu'  liis  youthful    way   iiitn   the 
secrets  of  literature  in  Edinl)urf;h  without  the  sli<fhtest 
link  of  connection   with   the   brilliant   lettered  society 
which  uave  tone  and  character  to  the  i)lace.     But  the 
Antipodes  are  not  farther  off  from  us  than  were   the 
lights   of  EcUnburgh    society  from  the  rustic  student 
labouring  through  his  classes.     As  distinct  as  if  they 
had  belonged  to  different  countries, or  different  centuries, 
were  the  young  lawyers,  not  niinh  richer,  but  standhig 
on  the  threshold  of  public  life,  wiili  all  its  possibilities, 
and  the  yoimg  clerical  students,  looking,  as  the  highest 
hope  of  their  ambition,  to  the  pulpit  of  a  parish  church, 
with  a  stipend  attached  of  two  or  three  hundred  a  year 
at  the  utmost.     In  actual  means  the  one  might  not  be 
much  in  advance  of  the  other ;  but  in  hopes,  prospects, 
and  sun'oundinLTs,  how  widely  different !     Beneath  that 
finnament,  flashing  with  light  and  splendour,  tlie  com- 
mon  day  went  on  unconscious,  concealing   its  other 
half-dawned  hghts.     Among  all  the  fellow-students  of 
Edward  Irving,  there  are  no  names  which  have  attained 
more  tlian  local  celebrity,  except  that  of  Thomas  Car- 
lyle,  whose  fame  has  overtopped  and  outlasted  that  of 
liis  early  friend ;  and  Carlyle  did  not  share  the  studies 
of  the  four  first  years  of  his  college  life.     He  stands 
alone   among   men   who    subsided    intr)    parishes,  and 
chaplaincies,  and  educational  chairs  ;  but  who  were  his 


TATEONS    AND   ASSOCIATES.  33 

equals,  or  more  than  his  equals,  in  those  days — without 
any  connection  with,  or  means  of  approach  to,  that 
splendid  circle  which,  one  would  imagine,  concen- 
trated within  so  hmited  a  sphere  as  that  of  Edinburgh, 
must  have  found  out  by  magnetic  attraction  every 
hght  of  genius  within  its  bounds.  But  the  ecclesias- 
tical flats  in  which  the  youth  stood,  together  with 
his  humble  origin,  more  tlian  counteracted  that  mag- 
netism. If  the  Church  everywhere  never  fails  to 
be  reminded  that  her  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world, 
that  reminder  is  specially  thrust  upon  her  in  Scotland, 
where  it  is  a  principle  of  the  creed  of  both  ministers 
and  people  to  beheve  that  even  the  payment  in  kind  of 
applause  and  honour,  which  is  gained  in  every  other 
profession,  is  a  smful  indulgence  to  a  preacher ;  and 
where  demands  are  made  upon  his  time  and  patience 
far  too  engrossing  to  admit  the  claims  of  society.  Irving- 
went  on  in  his  early  career  far  down  in  the  shade  of 
common  hfe,  out  of  reach  of  those  lights  which,  to  the 
next  generation,  illuminate  the  entire  sphere — and  grew 
from  a  boy  to  a  young  man,  and  took  his  boyish  share 
in  the  coUege  debating  societies,  and  made  his  way 
among  other  nameless  youths  with  no  great  mark  of 
difference,  so  far  as  it  appears.  Dr.  Christison,  the 
Humanity  professor,  noted  him  with  a  friendly  eye  ; 
and  odd,  clumsy,  kindly  Leshe  observed  the  fervour  of 
the  tail  lad,  and  took  him  for  a  future  prop  of  science. 
A  younger  feUow-student  records  simply  how  Irving, 
being  more  advanced  than  he,  helped  him  on  with  his 
studies,  according  to  that  instinct  of  his  nature  which 
never  forsook  him.  And  he  read  Ossian,  and  argued 
in  defunct  Philomathic  societies,  where  he  and  other 

VOL.  I.  D 


34  CAKKYI.r,  S    DKSCRI ITION     OF    IKVIXG. 

people  fancied  lie  met  equal  oj)poneiits  ;  till  it  became 
uec<?^;sar}'  for  him,  seventeen  years  old,  and  a  graduate 
of  Edinburgh  University,  to  begin  to  help  himself  on- 
wards, during  the  tedious  intervals  of  his  professional 
training. 

lie  did  this,  as  all  Scotch  clerical  students  do,  by 
teaching.  A  new  school,  called  the  Mathematical  School, 
by  some  strange  caprice,  —  since  it  seems  to  have 
been  exactly  like  other  schools — had  just  been  estab- 
lished in  lladdington  ;  and  l)y  the  recommendation  of 
Sir  John  Leslie  and  of  Professor  Christison,  Irving  got 
the  appointment.  It  was  iii  the  spring  of  1810,  after 
one  session,  as  it  is  called,  in  the  "Divinity  Hall,"  and  at 
the  age  of  eighteen,  that  he  entered  u})on  this  situation. 
To  somewhere  about  the  same  period  must  belong  the 
description  given  of  him  in  Carlyle's  wonderful "  Eloge."" 
"  The  first  time  I  saw  Living  was  in  his  native  town  of 
Annan.  He  was  fresh  from  Edinburgh,  with  college 
prizes,  high  character  and  promise :  he  had  come  to 
see  our  schoolmaster,  who  had  also  been  his.  We 
heard  of  famed  professors,  of  high  matters  classical, 
mathematical,  a  whole  wonderland  of  knowledge ; 
nothing  but  joy,  health,  hopefulness  without  end  looked 
out  from  the  blooming  young  man." 

Another  spectator  of  more  prosaic  vision  declares 
liim  to  have  been  "  rather  a  showy  young  man  " —  a 
tendency  always  held  in  abhorrence  by  the  sober  Scotch 
imagination,  which  above  all  things  admires  the  gift  of 
reticence ;  or  even,  in  default  of  better,  that  pride  which 
takes  the  place  of  modesty.  Irving,  utterly  ingenuous 
and  open,  always  seeking  love,  and  the  approbation  of 
love,  and  doubting  no  man,  did  not  possess  this  quality. 


EARLY   LABOUES.  35 

"  The  blooming  young  man  "  went  back  to  the  school  in 
which  he  was  once  kept  in  and  punished,  with  candid, 
joj^il  self-demonstration,  captivating  the  eyes  which 
could  see,  and  amusing  those  which  had  not  that 
faculty.  It  was  his  farewell  to  his  boyish,  happy, 
dependent  life. 

And  it  was  also  the  conclusion  of  his  University  edu- 
cation so  far  as  reality  Avent.  -For  four  or  five  years 
thereafter  he  was  what  is  called  a  partial  student  of 
Divinity,  matriculating  regularly,  and  making  his  ap- 
pearance at  college  to  go  through  the  necessary  exami- 
nations, and  dehver  the  prescribed  discourses ;  but 
carrying  on  his  intermediate  studies  by  himself,  ac- 
cording to  a  hcense  permitted  by  the  Church.  His 
Haddington  appointment  removed  him  definitely  from 
home  and  its  homely  provisions,  and  gave  him  an  early 
outset  for  himself  into  the  business  and  labours  of  in- 
dependent fife.  So  far  from  being  a  hardship,  or  matter 
to  be  lamented,  it  was  the  best  thing  his  friends  could 
have  wished  for  him.  Such  interruptions  in  the  course 
of  professional  education  were  all  but  universal  m  Scot- 
land ;  and  he  went  under  the  best  auspices  and  with  the 
highest  hopes. 


i> 


36 


CILVrTEK  III. 

HADDINGTON. 

• 

Irving  oiUcred  upon  tliis  second  chapter  of  his  youth- 
ful hfe  in  tlic  !<unui)(  r  of  1810.  He  was  tlien  in  his 
eighteenth  year  —  still  young  enough,  certainly,  for  the 
charge  committed  to  liim.  Education  was  at  a  very 
low  ebli  in  Haddington,  which  had  not  even  a  parish 
school  to  boast  of,  but  was  lost  among  "  borough " 
regulations,  and  in  the  pottering  hands  of  a  little 
corporation.  The  rismg  tide,  however,  stirred  a  faint 
ripple  ill  tliis  quiet  place;  and  the  consequence  was, 
the  estabhshment  of  that  school  called  the  mathe- 
matical, to  which  came  groups  of  lads  not  very  much 
younger  than  the  young  teacher,  who  had  been  stupefied 
for  years  in  such  schools  as  did  exist?  and  some  of 
wliom  woke- up  like  magic  under  the  touch  of  the  boy- 
student,  so  httle  older  than  themselves.  Coming  to  the 
little  town  under  these  circumstances,  recommended  as 
a  distijiguished  student  by  a  man  of  such  eminence  as 
Sir  Jolni  Leshe,  the  young  man  had  a  favourable 
reception  in  his  new  sphere.  "  When  Irving  first  came 
to  Haddington,"  wntes  one  of  his  pupils,  "  he  was  a  tall, 
ruddy,  robust,  handsome  youth,  cheerful  and  kindly 
disposed  ;  he  soon  won  the  confidence  of  his  advanced 
pupils,  and  wai?  admitted  into  the  best  society  in  the 
town  and  neighbourliood."    Into  one  house,  at  least,  he 


THE    DOCTORS    LITTLE    DAUGHTER.  37 

went  with  a  more  genial  introduction,  and  under  cir- 
cumstances equally  interesting  and  amusing,  This  was 
the  house  of  Dr.  Welsh,  the  principal  medical  man  of 
the  district,  whose  family  consisted  of  one  httle  daugh- 
ter, for  whose  training  he  entertained  more  ambitious 
views  than  httle  girls  are  generally  the  subjects  of. 
This  httle  girl,  however,  was  as  luiique  in  mind  as  in 
circumstances.  She  heard,  with  eager  childish  wonder, 
a  perennial  discussion  carried  on  between  her  father 
and  mother  about  her  education  ;  both  were  naturally 
anxious  to  secure  the  special  sjTupathy  and  companion- 
ship of  their  only  child.  The  doctor,  recovering  from 
his  disappointment  that  she  was  a  girl,  was  bent  upon 
educating  her  hke  a  boy,  to  make  up  as  far  as  possible 
for  the  unfortunate  drawback  of  sex  ;  while  her  mother, 
on  the  contrary,  hoped  for  nothing  higher  in  her  daugh- 
ter than  the  sweet  domestic  companion  most  congenial 
to  herself  The  child,  who  was  not  supposed  to  under- 
stand, hstened  eagerly,  as  children  invariably  do  hsten 
to  all  that  is  intended  to  be  spoken  over  their  heads. 
Her  ambition  was  roused ;  to  be  educated  like  a  boy 
became  the  object  of  her  entire  thoughts,  and  set  her 
httle  mind  working  with  independent  projects  of  its 
own.  She  resolved  to  take  the  first  step  in  this  awful 
but  fascinating  course,  on  her  own  responsibihty. 
Having  already  divined  that  Latin  was  the  first  grand 
point  of  distinction,  she  made  up  her  mind  to  settle  the 
matter  by  learning  Latin.  A  copy  of  the  Rudiments 
was  quickly  found  in  the  lumber-room  of  the  house, 
and  a  tutor  not  much  further  off  in  a  humble  student 
of  the  neighbourhood.  The  little  scholar  had  a  dra- 
matic instinct ;  she  did  not  pour  forth  her  first  lesson 


38  Tllli:    FIKST   DIX'LKNSIOX. 

lis  soon  JUS  it  was  acquiivd.  or  laslily  iK'trny  licr  secret, 
k^lie  waited  tlie  fitting  place  and  moment.  It  was  even- 
ing,  wlien  dinner  had  softened  out  the  asperities  of  the 
day  :  tlie  doctor  sat  in  hLXurious  leisure  in  hisdi-essing- 
irown  and  shi)])ei^.  sipjvinghis  coflee ;  and  all  llic  cheer- 
fid  accessories  ol"  1 1  ic  lireside  picture  were  complete,  'flie 
little  heroine  had  arranged  herself  under  the  table, 
under  the  crimson  folds  of  the  cover,  which  concealed 
her  small  person.  Ail  was  still :  the  moment  had 
arrived:  ''' penna,  i)ennce^  pennam!"  burst  forth  the 
little  voice  hi  breathless  steadiness.  The  result  maybe 
hnauined :  the  doctor  smothered  his  child  with  kisses, 
and  even  the  mother  herself  had  not  a  word  to  say ; 
the  victory  was  complete. 

After  this  pretty  scene,  the  proud  doctor  asked 
Sir  John  Leshe  to  send  him  a  tutor  for  the  little 
pupil  who  had  made  so  promismg  a  beginning.  Sir 
Johu  recommended  the  youthful  teacher  who  was 
already  in  Haddington,  and  Edward  Irving  became  the 
teacher  of  the  little  gh'l.  Their  hours  of  study  were 
from  six  to  eight  in  the  morning — wliich  inclines  one 
to  imagine  that,  in  spite  of  liis  fondness,  the  excellent 
doctor  must  have  lield  his  household  under  Spartan 
discipline  ;  and  agam  in  the  evening  after  school  hours. 
WTien  the  young  tutor  arrived  in  the  dark  of  the  win- 
ter mornhigs,  and  found  his  httle  pupil,  scarcely  dressed, 
peeping  out  of  her  room,  he  used  to  snatch  her  up  in 
his  aiTns,  and  carry  her  to  the  door,  to  name  to  her  the 
stars  shining  m  the  cold  firmament,  hours  before  dawn  ; 
and  when  the  lessons  were  over,  he  set  the  child  up 
on  the  table  at  which  they  had  been  pursuing  their 
studies,  and  taught  her  logic,  to  the  great  tribidation  of 


CONFLICT   BETWEEN    PITY   AND   TEUTII.  39 

the  liouseliokl,  in  wliich  tlie  little  philosopher  pushed 
her  inquiries  into  the  puzzhng  metaphysics  of  hfe.  The 
greatest  affection  sprang  up,  as  was  natural,  between 
the  child  and  her  young  teacher,  whose  heart  at  all 
times  of  his  life  was  always  open  to  children.  After 
the  lapse  of  all  these  years,  their  companionship  looks 
both  pathetic  and  amusing.  A  life-long  friendship 
sprang  out  of  that  early  connection.  The  pupil,  with 
all  the  enthusiasm  of  childliood,  believed  everything 
possible  to  the  mind  which  gave  its  first  impulse  to 
her  own  ;  and  the  teacher  never  lost  the  affectionate, 
indulgent  love  with  which  the  httle  woman,  thus  con- 
fided to  liis  boyish  care,  inspired  him.  Their  inter- 
course did  not  have  the  romantic  conclusion  it  might 
have  been  supposed  likely  to  end  in ;  but,  as  a  friend- 
ship, existed  unbroken  through  all  kinds  of  vicissi- 
tudes ;  and  even  through  entire  separation,  disapproval, 
and  outward  estrangement,  to  the  end  of  Irving's 
life. 

Wlien  the  lessons  were  over  it  was  a  rule  that  the 
young  teacher  should  leave  a  daily  report  of  his  pupil's 
progress ;  when,  alas,  that  report  was  pessima,  the 
httle  girl  was  punished.  One  day  he  paused  long 
before  putting  his  sentence  upon  paper.  The  culprit 
sat  on  the  table,  small,  downcast,  and  conscious  of 
failure.  The  preceptor  lingered  remorsefully  over  his 
verdict,  wavermg  between  justice  and  mercy.  At  last 
he  looked  up  at  her  with  pitiful  looks,  "  Jane,  my  heart 
is  broken!"  cried  the  sympathetic  tutor, "  but  1 7nusttell 
the  truth  ;"  and  with  reluctant  pen  he  wrote  the  dread 
deliverance,  pessima !  The  small  offender  doubtless 
forgot  the  penalty  that  followed  ;  but  she  has  not  yet 


.10  NKW    FRIKXDS. 

Ibrgotteii  tlio  conipaj^sioiiatc  diloinnin  in   \\\\\c\\   Inilli 
was  the  unwilling  conqueror. 

The  youth  who  entered  his  liouse  under  sucli  circuni- 
sUmcos  soon  became  a  fiivourite  guest  at  the  fireside  of 
the  Doctor,  who,  liimself  a  man  of  education  and  intel- 
ligence, and  of  that  disposition  which  makes  men 
beloved,  was  not  slow  to  find  out  the  great  qualities  of 
his  young  visitor.  There  are  some  men  who  seem  l)()ni 
to  the  inalienable  good  fortune  of  lighting  upon  the  best 
people  —  "  the  most  worthy"  according  to  Irving's  own 
expression  long  afterwards  —  wdierever  they  go.  Ir- 
ving's happiness  in  this  way  began  at  Haddington.  The 
Doctor's  wife  seems  to  have  been  one  of  those  fair, 
sweet  women  whose  remembrance  lasts  longer  than 
greatness.  There  is  no  charm  of  beauty  more  delight- 
ful than  that  fragrance  of  it  which  lingers  for  genera- 
tions in  the  place  where  it  has  been  an  unconsciously 
refining  and  tender  influence.  The  Annandale  youth 
came  into  a  httle  world  of  humanizing  graces  when  he 
entered  that  atmosphere  ;  and  it  ^vas  only  natural  that 
he  should  retain  the  w'annest  recollection  of  it  through- 
out his  hfe.  It  must  have  been  of  countless  benefit  to 
liim  in  this  early  stage  of  his  career.  The  main  quality 
iji  himself  which  struck  observers  was  —  in  strong  and 
strange  contradiction  to  the  extreme  devotion  of  belief 
manifested  in  his  latter  years  —  the  critical  and  almost 
sceptical  tendency  of  his  mind,  impatient  of  superficial 
"received  truths,"  and  eager  for  proof  and  demonstra- 
tion of  everything.  Perhaps  mathematics,  which  then 
reigned  paramount  in  his  mind,  were  to  blame;  he 
was  as  anxious  to  discuss,  to  prove  and  disprove,  as  a 
Scotch  student  fresh  from  college  is  naturally  disposed 


SPORT   AND   STUDY.  41 

to  be.  It  was  a  peculiarity  natural  to  his  age  and  con- 
dition ;  and  as  his  language  was  always  inclined  to  the 
superlative,  and  his  feehngs  invariably  took  part  in  every 
matter  which  commended  itself  to  his  mind,  it  is  pro- 
bable that  this  inclination  showed  with  a  certain 
exaggeration  to  surrounding  eyes.  "  This  youth  will 
scrape  a  hole  in  everything  he  is  called  on  to  beheve," 
said  the  doctor; — a  strange  prophecy,  looking  at  it  by 
that  light  of  events  which  unfold  so  many  unthought-of 
meanings  in  all  predictions. 

In  the  meantime  he  made  himself  popular  m  the 
town;  and  apart  from  the  delightful  vignette  above, 
appears  in  all  his  natin-al  picturesque  individuahty  m 
other  recollections.  The  young  master  of  the  mathe- 
matical school  commended  himself  to  the  hearts  of 
those  whose  sons  he  had  quickened  out  of  dunces  into 
inteUigent  prize-winning  pupils.  He  was  young  and 
poor,  and  in  a  humble  position  still ;  but  he  attracted  the 
warm  admiration  of  the  boys,  and  that  enthusiasm  which 
only  young  creatures  in  the  early  blush  of  existence  can 
entertain  for  their  elders.  The  means  by  which  he 
won  the  hearts  of  those  lads  is  simple  and  apparent 
enough.  Though  he  was  severe  and  peremptory  hi 
school, — "a  sad  tyrant,"  somebody  says, —  out  of  doors 
he  had  just  that  dehghtful  mixture  of  superior  wisdom, 
yet  equal  innocence, —  that  junction  of  the  teacher  and 
the  companion  which  is  irresistible  to  all  generous  young 
people.  Enthusiastic  in  his  mathematical  studies  as  he 
had  come  from  Edinburgh,  and  loving  the  open  air  as 
became  an  Annandale  lad  of  eighteen,  he  contrived  to 
connect  science  and  recreation  in  a  social  brotherly 
fashion  quite  his  own.     "  Having  the  use  of  some  fine 


\i  HOLIDAY   SCIKNCi:. 

iiistruincnts,"  snys  one  of  liis  pupils,  Patrick  SlierilT, 
Esq.,  of  Iladdiii^ton,  "lie  devoted  many  of  his  school 
holidays  to  the  mea.-^uring  of  heiudits  and  distances  in 
the  surrounding  nei'dibourhood,  and  taking  the  altitudes 
of  heavenly  bodies.  Upon  such  occasions  he  was  in- 
variably accompanied  by  several  of  his  pupils."  When 
the  stiite  of  the  atmosphere,  or  any  other  obstacle,  in- 
terrupted the  particular  object  of  the  day's  excursion, 
the  young  teacher  readily  and  joyfidly  diverged  into 
the  athletic  games  m  which  he  excelled ;  and  with  the 
scientific  instruments  standing  harmless  by,  enjoyed  his 
hohdayas  well  as  if  everything  had  been  favourable  for 
their  use.  Another  jjicturesquc  glimpse  of  the  boy- 
philosopher  follows.  "About  this  time  Mr.  Irving 
fi'equently  expressed  a  wish  to  travel  in  Africa  in  the 
track  of  Mungo  Park,  and  during  his  liohday  excursions 
practised,  in  concert  with  his  pupils,  the  throwing  of 
stones  into  pools  of  water,  with  the  view  of  determining 
the  depth  of  the  water  by  the  sound  of  the  plunge,  to 
aid  him  in  crossing  rivers ;"  a  species  of  scientific 
inquiiy  into  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  the  Haddington 
boys  would  enter  with  devotion.  This  idea  of  travel, 
not  unnatural  to  the  school-fellow  of  Hugh  Clappcrton, 
seems  to  have  returned  on  many  occasions  to  Irving's 
mind,  and  to  have  displayed  itself  in  various  character- 
istic studies,  as  unlike  the  ordinary  course  of  preparation 
for  a  journey  as  the  above  bit  of  hoHday  science.  His 
great  bodily  strength  and  dauntless  spirit  made  the  idea 
congenial  to  him,  and  he  had  no  very  brilliant  prospects 
at  home  ;  indeed,  this  thought  seems  to  run,  a  kind  of 
adventurous  possibility,  through  a  great  part  of  his  life, 
changing  in   aspect  as  his  own  projects  and  feehngs 


INCIDENT   IN   ST.    GEORGE'S   CHURCH.  43 

clianged  ;  and  to  have  afforded  liis  mind  a  refuge  from 
the  fastidious  intolerance  of  youth  when  that  came 
upon  him,  or  when  cross  circumstances  and  adverse 
persons  ckove  him  bacl^  at  bitter  moments  upon  himself. 
"  Bemg  an  excellent  walker,"  continues  the  gentleman 
already  quoted,  "  all  his  excursions  were  made  on  foot. 
Upon  one  occasion  when  Dr.  Chalmers,  then  rising  into 
fame,  was  amiounced  to  preach  in  St.  George's,  Edin- 
burgh, upon  a  summer  week-day  evening,  Irving  set 
out  from  Haddington  after  school-hours,  accompanied 
by  several  of  his  pupils,  and  retmiied  the  same  night, 
accomphsliing  a  distance  of  about  thirty-five  miles  with- 
out any  other  rest  than  what  was  obtained  in  church." 
The  fatigue  of  this  long  walk  was  enhvened  when  the 
httle  party  arrived  at  the  church  by  a  httle  outbreak 
of  imperious  pugnacity,  not,  perhaps,  quite  seemly  in 
such  a  place,  but  characteristic  enough.  Tired  with 
their  walk,  the  boys  and  their  youthful  leader  made 
their  way  up  to  the  gallery  of  the  church,  where  they 
directed  their  steps  towards  one  particular  pew  which 
was  quite  unoccupied.  Their  entrance  into  the  vacant 
place  was,  however,  stopped  by  a  man,  who  stretched  his 
arm  across  the  pew  and  announced  that  it  was  engaged. 
Irving  remonstrated,  and  represented  that  at  sucli 
a  time  all  the  seats  were  open  to  the  public,  but  with- 
out effect.  At  last  his  patience  gave  way  ;  and  raising 
his  hand  he  exclaimed,  evidently  with  all  liis  natural 
magniloquence  of  voice  and  gesture,  "Eemove  your 
arm,  or  I  will  shatter  it  in  pieces ! "  His  astonished 
opponent  fell  back  in  utter  dismay,  like  Mrs.  Siddons' 
shopman,  and  made  a  precipitate  retreat,  while  the 
rejoicing  boys  took  possession  of  the  pew.     Thus,  for 


U  SoriHTY    I.N     II ADDINGTOX. 

tlio  rM\<t  tiiiR',  IrviiiL"^  jincl  Cluilmors  were  brouglil,  if 
not  togetlier,  at.  least  into  tin-  sum'  assenll)l3^  Tlie 
great  preaeher  knew  iiotliiiig  of  \hv  lad  wlio  hud  coiiu' 
nearly  eighteen  miles  lo  luai  liim  ])rca(li,  and  sat 
resting  his  niiglity  youtliful  limbs  in  lli(«  scat  from 
whieh  he  had  driven  his  enemy.  Such  glimpses  arc 
curious  and  full  of  interest,  especially  in  remembrance 
of  other  days  which  awaited  ChalnuM-s  and  Irving  in 
that  same  church  of  St.  Georixe. 

To  retm-n  to  Haddington,  however ;  L'ving  not  only 
estabhshed  his  place  as  a  warm  and  life-long  friend  in 
the  house  of  the  Doctor,  but  made  his  way  into  the 
homes  and  society  of  many  of  the  worthy  inhabitants 
of  the  httle  town.  Among  those  who  had  children  at 
the  ]\Iathematical  School  and  (Opened  his  house  to  the 
teacher,  was  Gilbert  Burns,  the  brother  of  the  poet, 
with  whom  he  is  said  to  have  had  some  degree  of 
intimacy;  and  thoiiLdi  t1ic  liinnble  position  of  Dominie 
did  not  give  him  a  veiy  high  place  in  the  social  scale, 
and  restricted  his  friendships  within  the  ciixle  of  tliose 
whose  sons  he  educated,  there  were  a  sufficiently  large 
number  of  the  latter  to  make  their  young  ])receptor 
knoAvii  and  received  at  most  of  the  good  houses  in 
Haddington. 

"  Social  supper  parties,"  says  'Mr.  Alexander  Inglis, 
once  a  resident  in  Haddington,  who  has  kindly  fur- 
nished me  -with  some  recollections  of  this  period, 
"were  much  the  custom  at  this  time  in  lladdinffton, 
and  the  hospitahties  generally  extended  far  into  the 
night.  At  these  social  meetings  Irving  was  occasionally 
in  the  habit  of  broaching  some  of  his  singular  opinions 
about  the  liigh  destinies  of  the  human  race  in  heaven. 


BOLTON   MANSE.  45 

where  the  saints  were  not  only  to  be  made  '  kings  and 
priests  unto  God,'  but  were  to  rule  and  judge  angels. 
Dr.  Lorimer  (the  senior  minister  of  the  town)  used  to 
hint  that  there  were  many  more  profitable  and  useful 
subjects  m  the  New  Testament  for  a  divinity  student 
to  occupy  his  thoughts  about  than  such  speculations ; 
but  Irving  was  not  to  be  put  down  in  this  way. 
'  Dare  either  you  or  I  deprive  God  of  the  glory  and 
thanks  due  to  his  name  for  this,  exceeding  great  re- 
ward?' cried  the  impetuous  young  man,  according  to 
the  report  of  his  old  friend :  the  good  Doctor's  ready 
reply  was,  '  Well,  well,  my  dear  friend,  both  joii  and 
I  can  be  saved  without  knowing  about  that.' " 

Here  Irving  also  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr. 
Stewart,  then  minister  of  Bolton,  afterwards  Dr.  Stewart 
of  Erskine,  who  was  himself  the  subject  of  a  sufficiently 
romantic  story.  This  gentleman  had  been  a  medical 
man,  and  in  that  capacity  had  cured  the  daughter  of  a 
Scotch  nobleman  of  supposed  consumption.  The  phy- 
sician and  patient,  after  the  most  approved  principles 
of  poetical  justice,  fell  in  love  with  each  other  and 
married,  and  the  former  changed  his  profession,  and 
becoming  a  minister,  settled  down  in  the  parish  of 
Bolton,  and  became  doubly  useful  to  his  people  and  the 
neighboin^hood  in  his  double  capacity.  He  too  had 
been  able  to  discern  in  some  degree  those  quahties  of 
mind  and  heart,  which,  despite  liis  vehement  speech  and 
impatience,  and  love  of  argumentation,  showed  them- 
selves in  the  young  schoolmaster.  In  this  Manse  of 
Bolton  Irving  was  in  the  habit  of  spending  his  Satur- 
days, along  with  a  young  fellow-student  of  his  own, 
Mr.  Story,  afterwards  of  Eosneath.    Nor  was  he  without 


4G  VOUNCi    COMrAMONS. 

MK'ic'ly  of  liii>  own  ago  and  standing.  1  n  ihoso  days,  wIumi 
long  walks  wore  habitual  lo  ovcryhody,  TTaddington 
was  within  rcai'h  o\'  lulinburgli ;  jn'rhajjs  inoi'c  distinctly 
within  roach  than  now,  when,  instead  of  tho  long 
pleasant  summer  afternoon  walk,  costing  nothing,  the 
rapid  railway,  with  inevitable  shillings  and  sixpences, 
and  fixed  hours  of  comhig  and  going,  does  away  willi 
distance,  yet  magnifies  the  Avalk  into  a  journey.  On 
Satm'days  and  holidays  there  was  no  lack  of  visitors. 
A  tide  of  eager  young  hfe  palpitated  about  the  teacher- 
student,  even  in  that  retirement, — hfe  of  a  wonderfully 
different  fashion  fi'om  that  which  issues  from  Entrlish 
universities  ;  confined  to  limits  much  more  narrow^  and 
bound  to  practical  necessities ;  a  world  more  hard  and 
real.  Among  these  comrades  there  were  perhaps 
scarcely  two  or  three  individuals  whose  studies  were 
not  professional ;  and  among  the  professional  students 
only  a  small  number  who  w^ere  not,  like  Irving  himself, 
taxing  their  j'outhful  strength  to  procure  the  means  of 
prosecuting  their  studies.  With  theological  students  in 
particular  this  was  almost  tlie  rule ;  for  fcAv  were  the 
fortunate  men  Avho  w^ere  rich  enough  to  spend  their 
ciglit  long  years  entirely  in  study.  Doubtless  this  fact 
gave  a  certain  individual  character  to  the  little  groups 
who  came  to  share  the  liberal  boyish  hospitality  of  the 
young  schoolmaster,  and  filled  with  much  clangor  of 
logic  and  eager  Scottish  argumentation  his  little  rooms. 
Some  youtliful  wits  among  them  took  pleasure  in 
aggravating  the  vehement  temper  of  their  young  host, 
and  stirring  him  into  characteristic  outbreaks, — the 
language  which  afterwards  became  so  splendid  being 
then,  it  is  evident,  somewhat  magnilr)rjuent,   and    his 


EXTENT   OF   HIS   WORK.  47 

natural  impetuosity  warm  with  all  the  passion  of 
youth.  But  the  names  of  them  have  passed  away,  or 
hve  in  merely  local  recollection ;  some  became  teachers 
of  some  distinction  in  Edinburgh ;  others,  and  not  a 
few,  went  abroad  and  died  off  in  colonial  chaplaincies  ; 
some,  the  most  fortunate,  settled  down  into  respectable 
parish  ministers.  But  who  knows  anything  about  those 
Browns  and  Dicksons  now  ? 

Irving  was  also  a  member  of  a  local  literary  society, 
which  he  helped  to  originate  among  young  men  native 
to  the  burgh.  The  fashion  of  their  meetmgs  seems  to 
have  been  an  excellent  one.  They  were  in  the  habit 
of  setting  out  together  to  some  place  of  interest  near 
them,  often  to  dainty  Dirleton,  that  pretty  artificial 
viUage  which  is  one  of  the  boasts  of  East  Lothian,  and 
after  the  walk  and  talk  of  the  road  holding  thek  seance 
there  —  a  method  which  no  doubt  made  their  essays 
and  discussions  more  reasonable,  so  far  as  reason  was 
to  be  expected.  It  was  thus  not  without  activity  of 
mind,  cultivated,  so  far  as  that  was  practicable,  and 
kept  in  constant  stimulation  by  contact  with  his  com- 
peers, that  this  period  of  his  life  was  passed.  He  seems 
to  have  taught  most  things  common  to  elementary 
education  in  his  mathematical  school ;  with  Latin  of 
course,  the  unfaihng  representative  of  higher  know- 
ledge, and  key  to  advancement,  as  it  has  been  long 
considered  in  Scotland  ;  and  to  his  more  advanced  and 
more  congenial  pupils,  the  same  who  carried  his  instru- 
ments after  him  afield,  and  threw  stones  with  him  in 
zealous  devotion,  unfolded  the  mysteries  of  mathe- 
matics. His  hfe  must  have  been  sufficiently  laborious 
to   need   all    the    relaxations    possible   to   it.      Start- 


48  COrRAGE    AND    cnKHUITLNESS. 

iiiLi  ;ii  MX  111  ilu'  inoniinu"  —  not  ;il\v;ivs  in  wiiihi-  inoni- 
inirs,  corlniiily,  tliouLjli  tlic  idea  instiiicLivcly  recalls 
tlie  icy  cliill  of  lliose  starry  lioiirs  before  dawn,  to  tlie 
imlieroic  licarcr  —  to  conjugate  Latin  verbs  witli  the 
little  maid,  who  perhaps  did  not  ajiprehend  all  that  her 
ambition  was  to  bring  upon  her;  then  returning  to  his 
lifty  boys,  to  school  them  in  all  the  dilTerent  funda- 
mentals of  plain  uncmbellished  knowledge  (and  the 
teacher  himself  was  not  always  immaculate  in  his 
spelling) ;  with  again  another  private  lesson  after  the 
fifty  had  gone  to  their  sports, —  those  sports  in  wliiih 
the  eighteen-year  old  lad  was  scarcely  above  joining, — 
close  exercise  for  the  youthful  brain  and  athletic  develop- 
ing form,  to  which  some  counterbalance  of  strenuous 
physical  exertion  was  necessary. 

His  independence  seems  now  to  have  been  com- 
plete. In  his  humble  Haddiimton  lodgiufrs  he  was 
no  loiiirer  indebted  even  lor  his  oatmeal  and  cheese 
to  the  home  household,  but  had  set  out  manful  and 
early  on  the  road  of  life  for  himself  Henceforward 
Edward's  expenses  did  not  rank  among  the  cares 
of  the  iVnnan  home.  At  seventeen  and  a  half  the 
young  man  took  up  liis  own  burden  without  a 
word  or  token  of  complaint ;  and  ever  after  bore  it 
courageously  through  all  discouragements  and  trials, 
never  breaking  downi  or  falling  back  upon  the  love, 
which,  notwithstanding,  his  stout  heart  always  trusted 
in.  Neither  genius,  nor  that  temperament  of  genius, 
impassioned  and  visionaiy,  w'hich  he  possessed  to  a 
large  extent,  weakened  his  performance  of  this  first 
duty  which  manifested  itself  to  his  eyes ;  and  he 
seems  to  have  accepted  his  lot  with  a  certain  noble 


LEAVES    HADDINGTON.  49 

simplicity,  neither  resenting  it,  nor  quarrelling  with 
those  whom  circumstances  made  temporarily  his 
superiors.  Either  people  did  not  ill-use  him,  or  he  had 
some  secret  power  of  endurance  which  turns  ill-usage 
aside.  At  all  events,  it  is  certain  that  the  agonies  of 
the  sensitive,  not  sufficiently  respected  tutor,  or  the 
commotions  of  the  indignant  one,  have  no  place  what- 
ever in  Irving's  vouthful  hfe.  When  the  Haddinofton 
corporation,  not  hkely  to  be  the  most  considerate 
masters  in  the  world,  afflicted  their  young  schoolmaster, 
it  is  to  be  supposed  that  he  blazed  up  at  them  manfully, 
and  got  done  with  it.  At  least  he  has  no  complaints 
to  make,  or  old  slights  to  remember ;  nor  does  it  seem 
that  he  ever  sulked  at  his  humble  position  or  close 
labours  at  any  time  in  his  life. 

Irving  remained  two  years  at  Haddington,  during 
which  time  he  began  that  singular  grave  pretence  of 
theological  education  which  is  called  "  partial "  study 
in  the  Divinity  Hall.  From  the  httle  Haddington 
school  he  was  promoted,  always  with  the  good  offices 
of  Sir  John  LesHe,  who  seems  to  have  had  a  sincere 
kindness  for  him,  to  the  mastership  of  a  newly  estab- 
hshed  academy  in  Kirkcaldy ;  in  which  place  he  spent 
a  number  of  years,  and  decided  various  important 
matters  deeply  concerning  his  future  hfe. 


VOL.  I.  E 


50 


CIIArXEll  IV 


KIRKCALDY. 


"  The  lang  to^vn  of  Kirkcaldy"  extends  along  the  north- 
ern side  of  the  Firth  of  Forth,  and  is  one  of  tlie  most 
important  of  that  long  line  of  httle  towns — fishing, 
weaving,  tradmg  centres  of  local  activity, — which  gleam 
along  the  margm  of  Fife,  and  help  to  make  an  abrupt 
but  important  edge  to  the  golden  fertile  fringe  which, 
according  to  a  pretty,  antique  description,  adorns  the 
"  russet  mantle  "  of  that  characteristic  county.  These 
little  towns  extend  in  a  scattered,  l^roken  line,  downward 
from  Queensfeny,  till  the  coast  rounds  off  into  St. 
Andrew's  Bay  ;  and  are  full  of  a  busy  yet  leisurely  indus- 
try, sometimes  quickened  almost  into  the  restless  pulse  of 
trade.  Kirkcaldy  earned  its  title  of  the  "  lang  town  " 
from  the  prolonged  line  of  its  single  street,  running 
parallel  to  the  shore  for  rather  more  than  a  mile,  and 
at  that  time  had  not  widened  into  proportionate  breadtli, 
nor  invested  itself  with  tiny  suburbs  and  the  body  of 
scattered  population  which  now  gives  it  importance. 
Li  the  year  1812  there  was  no  school  in  this  flourishing 
and  comfortable  place,  except  the  parish  school,  with 
its  confusion  of  ranks  and  profound  Eepubhcanism  of 
letters,  where  boys  and  girls  of  all  classes  were  rudely 
drilled  into  the  common  elements  of  education,  with 


KIRKCALDY   ACADEMY.  51 

sucli  climaxes  of  Latin  and  mathematics  as  were  prac- 
ticable. The  professional  people  of  Kirkcaldy,  headed 
by  the  minister,  who  had  himself  a  large  family  of 
children  to  educate,  and  the  wellrto-do  shopkeepers  and 
householders  of  the  place,  determined,  accordingl}^, 
upon  the  establishment  of  a  new  school,  of  higher  pre- 
tensions, and  Edward  Irving  was  selected  as  its  first 
master.  Two  rooms  in  a  central  "  wynd,"  opening  into 
each  other,  with  a  tiny  class-room  attached — now 
occupied  by  a  humble  schoolmaster,  who  points  to  his 
worm-eaten  oaken  desks  as  being  those  used  by  "  the 
great  Mr.  Irving" — were  simply  fitted  up  into  the  new 
academy. 

Without  any  accessories  to  command  respect,  in  a 
humble  locahty,  with  a  cobbler's  hutch  in  the  sunk 
story  beneath,  and  common  houses  crowding  round, 
the  new  institution,  notwithstanding,  impressed  respect 
upon  the  town,  and  soon  became  important.  Boys  and 
guds,  as  was  usual,  sat  together  at  those  brown  oaken 
desks  without  the  least  separation,  and  pursued  their 
studies  together  with  mutual  rivahy.  For  some 
time  Irving  managed  them  alone,  but  afterwards 
had  an  assistant,  and  in  this  employment  remamed 
for  seven  years,  and  liad  the  training  of  a  generation 
in  his  hands.  The  recollection  of  him  is  still  fi-esh 
in  the  town ;  his  picturesque  looks,  his  odd  ways, 
his  severities,  his  kindnesses,  the  distinct  indi\dduality 
of  the  man.  Here  that  title  which  afterwards  was 
to  be  the  popular  designation  of  a  religious  com- 
munity came  into  playful  use,  long  and  innocently 
antedating  its  more  permanent  meaning,  and  the 
academy  scholars  distinguished  each  other  as  "  Irving- 

E    2 


5-2  TKUSONAI,    AIM'KAUAXCK. 

ites," — a  spc'iMn]  ami  allrriionato  l)(>iul  of  fVatcniily. 
lie  was  now  twenty,  and  li.id  attaiiu'd  liis  full  heiglit, 
which  some  say  was  two,  and  some  lour  inches  over  six 
feet;  his  appearance  was  nolile  and  remarkable  to  a 
hijih  dciiree,  liis  features  fine,  his  liijure,  in  its  ••reat 
height,  fully  developed  and  vigorous;  the  only  draw- 
back to  his  good  looks  l)eing  the  defect  in  his  eye, 
which,  with  so  many  and  great  advantages  to  comiter- 
balance  it,  seems  rather  to  have  given  piquancy  to  his 
face  than  to  have  lessened  its  attraction.  Such  a  fiL!;ure 
attracted  universal  attention  :  he  could  not  pass  through 
a  \illage  without  being  remarked  and  gazed  after ;  and 
some  of  his  Kii'kcaldy  })upils  remember  the  moment 
wjien  they  first  sjiw  him,  with  tlie  clearness  which 
marks,  not  an  ordinary  meethig,  but  an  event.  Tliis 
recollection  is  perliaps  assisted  by  the  fact,  that  though 
a  divinity  student,  ah'eady  overshadowed  by  the  needful 
gravity  of  the  priesthood,  and  in  present  possession  of 
all  the  importtmce  of  a  "  Dominie,"  he  had  no  sucli 
solemn  regard  to  dress  as  afterwards  became  one  of  his 
peculiarities,  but  made  his  appearance  in  Kirkcaldy  in 
a  morning  coat  made  of  some  set  of  tartan  in  whi(ih 
red  predominated,  to  the  admiration  of  all  beholders. 

A  young  man  of  twenty,  with  tlie  full  charge  of  a 
large  number  of  boys  and  girls,  in  a  limited  s])ace,  and 
undertaking  all  the  items  of  a  miscellaneous  education, 
no  doubt  needed  the  a.ssistance  of  a  somewhat  rigorous 
disci])line,  and  it  is  evident  that  he  used  its  help  with 
•  '^  ^-^  much  freedom.  Sounds  were  heard  now  and  then 
proceeding  from  the  schoolroom  which  roused  the  pity 
and  indimiation  of  the  audience  of  neicjhbours  out  of 
doors.     One  of  these,  a  joiner,  deacon  of  his  trade,  and 


A^^^—    /-~    ^^/\^  *^.  ^VERE    DISCIPLIXE. 


a  man  of  great  strength,  is  reported  to  have  appeared 
one  day,  with  his  shirt-sleeves  rolled  up  to  his  elbows 
and  an  axe  on  his  shoulder,  at  the  door  of  the  school- 
room, asking,  "Do  ye  want  a  hand*  the  day,  ]\ir. 
Irving  ?  "  with  dreadful  irony.  Another  ludicrous  mis- 
take testifies  to  the  o-eneral  notion  that  careless  scholars 
occasionally  got  somewhat  hard  measure  from  the 
young  master.  Some  good  men  loitering  about  their 
gardens,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  "  academy,"  heard 
outcries  which  alarmed  them  ;  and,  convinced  that 
murder  was  being  accomphshed  in  the  school,  set  off  to 
save  the  \dctim  ;  but  discovered,  to  their  great  discom- 
fiture, that  the  cries  which  had  attracted  their  sympathy 
came  from  an  unfortunate  animal  under  the  hands  of  a 
butcher,  and  not  from  a  tortured  schoolboy.  These 
severe  measures,  however,  by  no  means  obhterate  the 
pleasanter  recollection  with  which  Irving's  pupils  recall 
his  reign  at  the  academy.  It  was  not  in  his  nature  to 
work  among  even  a  set  of  schoolboys  without  identify- 
ing himself  with  them,  and  carrying  them  with  }iim 
into  all  the  occupations  and  amusements  which  they 
could  possibly  be  made  to  bear  a  share  in.  On  the 
hoUdays  the  young  teacher  might  be  seen  mth  both 
boys  and  girls  in  his  train,  issuing  forth  to  the  fields 
with  such  scientific  instruments  as  he  could  command, 
giving  them  lessons  in  mensuration  and  survejang, 
which,  half  in  sport  and  half  m  earnest,  doubtless,  were 
not  without  then-  use  to  the  fortunate  lads  thus  pro- 
moted to  share  his  hours  of  leisure.  Tlie  same  lads 
went  with  him  to  the  Fkth,  where  he  renewed  those 

*  Anglice  —  assistance.,  a  helper. 


54  "  DOINO    .\I,1>   TIlINJuS    IIKARTILY. 

feat8  of  swiinniinix  which  Imd  (Hstiiiufuislied  liim  on  tlio 
S<ilway  ;  and,  sometimes  willi  an  urchin  on  his  shoulder, 
sometimes  lioUHni;  an  oar  or  a  ro])e  to  sustain  tlic  more 
advanced,  sometimes  len(hnsT  the  aid  ofliis  own  vi<»;or- 
ous  arm,  the  young  Hercules  taught,  or  endeavoured 
to  teacli,  liis  pupils  to  be  as  fearless  in  tlie  water  as 
himself.     If  lie   might  sometimes  happen  to  be  discon- 
tented with  his  occupation,  as  was  very  possible,  it  never 
occuiTed  to  L'\'ing  to  evidence  that  feeUng  by  doing 
just  as  httle  as  could  be  demanded  of  him.     Exactly  the 
revei"«e  was  the  impulse  of  his  generous,  single-minded 
nature.     He  went  into  it  with  all  the  fresh,  natiu'al  ful- 
ness of  his  heart.     He  never  seems  to  have  attempted 
making  any  division  of  liimself.     And  this  is  no  picture 
of  an  mteresting  student  compelled  to  turn  aside  from 
his  studies  by  the  necessity  of  maintaining  himself — 
and  if  not  resentful,  at  least  preservmg  a  certain  reserve 
and  pathetical  injured  aspect  towards  the  world,  as 
there  are  so  many ;  but  an  entu'e  individual  man,  full 
of  the  highest  ambition,  yet  knowing  no  possibility  of 
any  other  course  of  conduct  than  that  of  doing  what 
his  hand  found  to  do,  with  all  his  heart,  as  freely  as  if 
he  had  loved  the  work  for  its  own  sake.     With  sucli  a 
disposition,  he  could  not   even  enter  into  any  work 
without  insensibly  getting  to  love  it,  and  spending  him- 
self freely,  with  exuberant  \olunteer   efforts  not   de- 
manded of  him.     Under  no  circumstances  was  indif- 
ference possible  to  this  young  man  ;  though,  even  then, 
it  is  very  afiparent,  prophetic  visions  of  a  very  different 
audience,  and  of  future  possibilities  which  no  one  else 
dreamt  of,  were  with  him  m  the  midst  of  his  hearty 
and  cordial  labours. 


KIRKCALDY    SANDS.  55 

Thus  for  a  circle  of  years  his  remarkable  figure 
pervades  that  little  town  ;  seen  every  day  upon  the 
shore,  pacing  up  and  down  the  yellow  sands  with  books 
and  meditations, — the  great  Firth  rolhng  in  at  his  feet 
in  waves  more  grand  and  less  impetuous  than  those  of 
his  native  Solway  ;  with  green  islands  gleaming  in  the 
Hght,  and  Arthur's  Seat  looming  out  through  the  Edin- 
burgh smoke  in  the  distance,  a  moody  Hon  ;  and  many 
a  moonhght  night  upon  the  same  shore,  collecting 
round  hhn  his  httle  band  of  eager  disciples,  to  point 
out  the  stars  in  their  courses,  and  communicate  sucli 
poetical  elements  of  astronomy  as  were  congenial  to  such 
a  scene.  These  latter  meetmgs  were  disturbed  and 
brought  to  a  conclusion  in  a  whimsical  homely  fashion. 
One  setison  it  happened  that,  on  two  different  occasions 
when  they  met,  faUing  stars  were  seen.  Forthwith 
some  of  the  common  people  took  up  the  notion  that 
Irving  drew  down  the  stars,  or  at  least  knew  when  they 
were  to  fall.  They  accordingly  watched  for  him  and 
his  pupils,  and  pushing  in  amongst  them  with  ignorant, 
half-superstitious  curiosity,  broke  up  the  httle  conclave. 
A  curious  incident  in  which  a  fanciful  observer  might 
see  some  dim,  mystic  anticipations  of  a  future  not 
yet  revealed  even  to  its  hero.  Indoors,  in  his  own  do- 
main, as  the  different  classes  went  on  with  their  lessons, 
he  moved  about  m  perpetual  activity,  seldom  sitting 
down,  and  always  fuUy  intent  upon  the  progress  of  his 
flock.  Now  and  then  he  gave  them  a  hohday,  on  con- 
dition of  receiving  afterwards  an  essay  describing  how 
they  had  spent  their  time  —  receiving  in  return  some 
amusing  productions  largely  taken  up  with  bird's  nesting 
and  other  such  exploits  of  rustic  boyliood.  Both  French 


56  illLTO.N    LLAS>S. 

ami  Italian,  in  addition  to  tlic  stoadior  routine  of  T,;iliii 
and  matluMnatics  scorn  to  have  Ix-cn  attt'in})tc'd  by  the 
ardent  younLT  teacher  ;   and   liis  own  class  read  ^li Hon 
Avitli  him,  learning  lai-ge  portions  ot"  Paradise  Lost  by 
heart.      "Wherever   the  sense   seemed   involved,   the 
pupils  were  required   to  re-arranixc   the  sentence  and 
give  it  in  prose.     This  implied  a  thorough  understand- 
ing of  the  passage  and  appreciation    of  its  meaning." 
Altogether  a  system  of  education  of  a  lofty  optimist  cha- 
racter, quite  as  rare  and  unusual  in  the  present  day  as 
at  that  time.    It  is  said  that  one  of  his  older  pupils  came 
on  one  occasion  to  this  same  ]\Iilton  Class  before  the 
arrival  of  her  companions,  and  on  reaching  the  d(^or  of 
the  class-room,  found  Irving  alone,  reciting  to  himself 
one  of  the  speeches  of  Satan,  with  so  much  emph{!sis  and 
so  gloomy  a  countenance,  that  the  terrified  girl,  unable 
to  conceal  her  fright,  fled  precipitately.     Some  of  his 
pupils  —  and  among  these,  one  or  two  girls  —  came  to 
high  proficiency  in    the  mathematical  studies,  whicli 
were  specially  dear  to  theu' yomig  instructor;  and  — 
much   apart  from   mathematics  —  Irving  so  managed 
U)  impress  his  spiiit  upon  the  lads  under  his  charge, 
that  the  common  conjunction  of  boys  and  girls  in  this 
school  became  the  means  of  raismg  a  certain  chivalrous 
spirit,  not  naturally  abounding  among  schoolboys,  in 
Kirkcaldy  and  its  academy.      That  spiiit  of  chivalry 
which,  under  the  form  of  respect  to  women,  embodies 
the  truest  mairnanimous  sentiment  of  strength,  rose  in- 
^•oluntarily  among  the  youths  commanded  by  such  a 
leader.     They  learned  to  suspend  their  very  snowball 
bickers  till  the  girls  had  passed  out  of  harm's  way  ;  and 
awing  the  less  fortunate  (janiins  of  the  little  town  by 


SCHOOLBOY    CHIVALEY.  57 

their  sturdy  cliampionsliip,  made  the  name  of  "  an 
academy  lassie  "  a  defence  against  all  annoyance.  The 
merest  snowball  directed  against  the  sacred  person  of 
one  of  these  budding  women  was  avenged  by  the  gene- 
rous zeal  of  the  "  Irvingites."  The  girls  perhaps  on 
their  side  were  not  equally  considerate,  but  won  prizes 
over  the  heads  of  their  stronger  associates  with  no 
compunction,  and  took  their  full  share  of  the  labours, 
though  scarcely  of  the  penalties  of  the  school.  Amusing 
anecdotes  of  the  friendship  existing  between  the  teacher ' 
and  his  pupils  are  told  on  all  sides  :  his  patience  and 
consideration  in  childish  disasters,  and  prompt  activity 
when  accidents  occurred  ;  and  even  his  readiness  to  be 
joked  with  when  times  were  propitious.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  secm-e  beforehand,  however,  that  times  icere 
propitious.  On  one  such  sunshiny  occasion  some  of 
the  boys  propounded  the  old  stock  riddle  about  the 
seven  wives  with  their  stock  of  cats  and  kits  "  whom 
I  met  going  to  St.  Ives  " —  and  the  whole  school 
looked  on,  convulsed  with  secret  titterings,  while 
their  simple-minded  master  went  on  jotting  down  upon 
his  black  board  in  visible  figures  the  repeated  sevens 
of  that  tricky  composition.  Their  floggmgs  do  not 
seem  to  have  much  damped  the  spirit  of  the  Kirkcaldy 
boys,  or  diminished  their  confidence  in  their  teacher. 

During  the  early  part  of  Irving's  residence  in  Kirk- 
caldy he  was  still  a  partial  student  at  the  Divinity  Hall. 
During  the  first  three  winters  he  had  to  go  over  to 
Edinbm'gh  now  and  then,  to  dehver  the  discoiurses  which 
were  necessaiy,  in  order  to  keep  up  his  standing  as  a 
student.  "  On  these  occasions,"  says  the  lady  fi^om 
whose  notes  the  chief  details  of  his  Kirkcaldy  history 


58  "■  MUCII-RKSPKCTED    riTILS." 

are  Uiken,  *"  to  ensure  his  pupils  lo-^iiig  as  little  as  pos- 
sible, he  used  to  ai>k  them  to  meet  him  at  the  school  at 
six,  or  halt-piLst  six,  in  the  nKiniinix.  This  arrangement 
enabled  him  to  go  over  ihc  most  important  of  the 
lessons  before  the  hour  at  which  the  lly  started  to  meet 
the  passage-boat  at  Kinghorn  " — that  being,  before  the 
age  of  steamers,  the  most  rapid  (Conveyance  between 
Fife  and  Edinbur<jjh.  On  his  return  from  one  such 
expedition,  he  himself  describes  how,  "m  fear  of  a 
tedious  passage  across  the  ferry  under  night,  I  requested 
from  a  friend  of  mine  in  Edinburgh  a  book,  which,  by 
combinini;  instruction  with  amusement,  miLflit  at  once 
turn  to  account  the  time,  and  relieve  the  tiresomeness 
of  the  voyage."  The  book  was  Eauselas ;  and  was  after- 
wards sent,  -with  an  amusingly  elaborate,  schoolmaster 
note,  to  two  young  ladies,  whom  the  young  teacher 
(who  afterwards  made  one  of  them  his  wife)  addresses 
as  "  My  much  respected  pupils."  The  friend  who  lent 
the  book  desned  it  to  be  given  as  a  prize  to  the  best 
scholar  in  the  school,  and  having  been  present  at  the 
examination,  distinguished  tliese  two,  without  being  able 
to  decide  between  them  ;  but  at  tlie  same  time  depre- 
cated any  mention  of  himself  on  account  of  the  trilling 
value  of  his  gift.  Whereupon  Irving  adds,  with  quaint 
antique  solemnity,  that  "  it  was  not  the  worth  but  the 
honour  which  should  be  regarded  :  that  the  conquerors 
of  Greece  and  Eome  reckoned  themselves  more  hon- 
oured by  the  laurel  crown  than  if  they  had  enjoyed  the 
splendid  pomp  of  the  noblest  triumph  ;"  and  concludes 
by  sending  the  book  to  both,  so  that  "  by  making  tlie 
present  mutual,  it  \vill  not  only  be  a  testimonial  of  your 
progress,  but  also  of  that  attachment  which  I  hope  will 


LOVE-MAKING.  59 

ripen  into  cordial  friendship  ;  and  wliich  it  is  the  more 
pleasant  to  observe  as  its  place  is  too  often  occupied  by 
jealousy  and  envy." 

He  was  not  always,  however,  so  exemplary  in  his 
letter- writing.  Only  next  spring,  a  year  after,  one  of 
the  ladies  to  whom,  in  conjunction  with  her  companion, 
the  above  faultless  sentiments  were  inscribed,  seems  to 
have  ceased  to  be  Irving's  "much-respected  pupil." 
The  hyperbohcal  fiend  which  talks  of  nothing  but  ladies, 
seems  in  full  possession  of  the  young  man  in  the  next 
ghmpse  we  obtain  of  him  ;  wliich  is  contained  in  a  letter 
to  his  friend  Mr.  Story,  who  had  apparently  met  witli 
some  temporary  obstruction  in  his  career,  and  whom 
Irving  felt  himself  called  upon  to  console.  He  fulfils  this 
friendly  office  in  the  following  fashion,  begimiing  mth 
sundry  philosophical  but  far  from  original  arguments 
against  despondency  :  — 

"  But  all  these  having  doubtless  occurred  to  yourself,  I  pro- 
ceed to  operate  upon  your  feelings,  by  the  much-approved 
method  of  awakening  your  sympathy  to  the  much  keener 
sufferings  of  your  humble  servant  and  correspondent.  You 
must,  then,  understand  that  in  this  town  or  neighbourhood 
dwells  a  fair  damsel,  whose  claims  to  esteem  I  am  prepared, 
at  the  point  of  my  pen,  to  vindicate  against  all  deadly.  Were 
I  to  enter  into  an  enumeration  of  those  charms  which  chal- 
lenge the  world,  I  might  find  the  low,  equal,  and  unrhyming 
lines  of  prose  too  feeble  a  vehicle  to  support  my  flights.  .  .  . 
I  got  to  know  that  this  peerless  one  was  prevented  from 
making  a  promised  visit  into  the  country  by  a  stormy  Satur- 
day. I  took  the  earliest  opportunity  on  the  next  lawful  * 
day  of  waiting  on  her,  and  hinting,  when  mamma's  ear  w^as 


*  A  common  Scotch  expression  for  week  days,  excluding  the 
Sunday  ;  public  conveyances  used  to  be  advertised  as  plying  "  on 
all  lawful  days." 


60  CONFIDENTIAL    DISCLOSURES. 

eu^jfaged,  that  I  had  business  at  the  same  vilhvge  some  of  these 
eveuiugs,  and  wouUl  be  most  inclValtly  Itlessed  If  be;  lier 
protector  home,  if  not  also  abroad:  woidd  she  consent?  I 
might  ask  lier  mother.  Tn  this  most  disagreeable  of  all 
tasks  I  succeeded  better  tliau  1  expected.  Hut,  alas!  after 
I  thouglit  everything  was  in  a  fair  way  for  yiehliug  me  an 
lialf-hour's  enjoyment,  I  was  not  till  then  informed  that 
another  was  to  be  of  the  party.  This  was  a  terrible  obstacle, 
and  how  to  get  the  better  of  it  I  could  not  divine.  ...  I 
could  do  nothing  the  whole  afternoon  but  think  how  liappy 
I  might  be  in  the  evening.  Left  home  about  seven  o'clock, 
so  as  to  call  on  a  friend  and  be  ready  at  eight,  the  a])pointed 
hour.  'Twas  a  most  lovely,  still  evening  ;  just  such  as  you 
could  have  chosen  from  the  whole  year  for  the  sighs,  pro- 
testations, invocations,  &c.  of  lovers.  I  called  on  my  frieml 
and  tried  to  get  him  along  with  me,  in  order  that  I  might 
throw  on  his  charge  the  intruder,  if  she  should  happen  to  be 
there.  It  would  not  do,  and  I  was  forced  to  go  alone, 
resolvingr  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  business  should  I  be  so 
unfortunate.  ^Mlat,  think  you,  was  my  disappointment — 
what  imagination  can  figure — what  language  describe  my  tor- 
ment when  I  found,  she  was  gone  some  time  ago  ?  What 
could  I  do  ?  The  sea  was  at  hand,  but  then  the  tide  was  not 
full ;  there  were  rocks  at  hand,  but  they  were  scarcely  ele- 
vated enough  for  a  lover's  leap.  I  took  my  solitary,  gloomy 
way  down  by  the  dark  shore.  I  lingered  long  beneath  the 
gloom  of  a  ruined  castle  that  overhangs  the  billow.  I  listened 
to  the  dash  of  the  waves,  and  cast  my  melancholy  eye  to  the 
solitary  beacon  gleaming  from  afar.  I  fancied,  fantastically 
enough,  that  it  was  an  image  of  myself  separated  and  driven 
to  a  distance  from  what  in  the  world  I  valued.  At  last,  how- 
ever, rny  tardy  feet,  after  scrambling  on  many  a  ledgy  rock, 
and  splashing  in  many  a  pool,  brought  me  to  the  haunts  of 
meiL  .  .  .  where  there  were  few  stirring  to  disturb  the 
repose  of  my  silent  thoughts ;  I  stole  home  and  endeavoured 
to  find  oblivion  of  my  cares  in  the  arms  of  sleep.  .  .  .  Since 
that  time  the  unfortunate  subject  of  the  above  tragic  inci- 
dent has  consigned  every  serious  study  to  neglect." 

This  wljimsical  effusion  concludes  with  a  sitrnificant 


ENGAGEMENT.  61 

note :  "  Have  you  got  introduced  to  Miss  P.  or  Miss  D. 
yet  ?     K  you  be,  present  my  kind  compliments.     But 
at  your  peril  mention  a  word  of  the  lady  to  whom  I 
have  referred  as  honouring  this  part  of  the  world  loith 
her  presence  I '' 

Out  of  the  serio-comic  levity  of  this  beginning,  how- 
ever, sprang  important  conclusions.  Though  it  was 
only  after  a  distance  of  long  years  and  much  separa- 
tion, the  usual  vicissitudes  of  youthful  hfe,  and  all  the 
lingering  delays  of  a  classical  j)i"obation,  that  the 
engagement  was  completed,  Irving  found  his  mate  in 
Eifeshire.  Not  long  after  she  had  ceased  to  be  his 
pupil  he  became  engaged  to  Isabella  Martin,  the  eldest 
daughter  of  the  parish  minister  of  Kirkcaldy.  She 
was  of  a  clerical  race,  an  hereditary  "  daughter  of  the 
Manse,"  according  to  the  affectionate  popular  designa- 
tion, and  of  a  name  already  in  some  degree  known  to 
fame  m  the  person  of  Dr.  Martin,  of  Monimail,  her 
grandfather,  who  survived  long  enough  to  baptize  and 
bless  his  great-grandchildren  —  who  had  some  local 
poetical  reputation  in  his  day,  and  whom  the  grateful 
painter,  entitled  in  Scotland  "  our  immortal  Wilkie,"  has 
commemorated  as  having  helped  his  early  struggles 
into  fame  by  the  valuable  gift  of  two  lay  figures  : 
and  of  David  Martin,  his  brother,  first  proprietor  of 
the  said  lay  figures,  whose  admirable  portraits  are  well 
known.  Her  father,  the  Eev.  John  Martin,  was  an 
admirable  type  of  the  class  to  which  he  belonged  —  an 
irreproachable  parish  priest,  of  respectable  learning 
and  talents  and  deep  piety,  living  a  domestic  patriarchal 
life  in  the  midst  of  the  little  community  under  his 
charge,  fidly  subject  to  tlieu"  observation  and  criticism, 


62  TlIK    MINISTKK    OF    KIRKCALDY. 

hut  "without  any  rival  in  liis  position  or  iiillucnco; 
liriuiiinLr  uu  liis  many  cliikliXMi  aniunif  llicni,  and 
spondinLT  liis  active  days  in  all  tliat  fatherly  close 
supervision  of  morals  and  manners  which  distinguished 
and  became  the  old  hereditary  ministers  of  Scot- 
land. He  was  of  the  party  then  called  "  wild  "  or  "  high- 
flyei's,"  in  opposition  to  the  "  Moderates,"  wdio  formed 
the  majority  of  the  Church,  and  whose  flight  was 
certainly  low  enough  to  put  them  in  little  hazard  from 
any  skyey  iniluences.  Such  a  man  in  those  days 
exercised  over  the  bulk  of  liis  people  an  influence 
which,  perhaps,  no  man  in  any  position  exercises  now 
—  and  in  which  the  special  regard  of  the  really 
religious  portion  of  his  flock  only  put  a  more  fervent 
climax  upon  the  traditionary  respect  of  the  universal 
people,  always  ready,  when  he  was  worthy  of  it,  to 
yield  to  the  traditionary  sway  of  the  minister,  though 
equaDy  ready  to  jeer  at  and  scorn  him  when  he  was 
not,  with  a  contempt  hicreased  by  their  national  appre- 
ciation of  the  importance  of  his  office.  To  the  house 
of  this  good  man  Irving  had  early  obtained  access,  the 
Clause  children  in  a  goodly  number  being  among  his 
scholars,  and  the  Manse  itself  forming  the  natural 
centre  of  all  stray  professors  of  literature  in  a  region 
which  had  too  many  sloops  and  looms  on  hand  to  be 
greatly  attracted  that  way.  The  family  hi  this  Manse 
of  Kirkcaldy,  which  afterwards  became  so  closely 
related  to  liim,  and  the  younger  members  of  which 
understood  him  all  the  better  that  their  minds  had 
l)een  formed  and  developed  under  his  instruction,  were, 
during  all  his  after  hfe,  Irving's  fast  friends,  accom- 
panjing    liim,   not    with    concurrence    or    agreement 


THE   MAJTSE    HOUSEHOLD.  63 

certainly,  but  with  faithful  affection  and  kindness  to 
the  very  edge  of  the  grave.  Irving  himself,  in  one  of 
his  somewhat  formal  early  letters,  gives  us  a  pleasant,  if 
sHghtly  elaborate  ghmpse  of  this  domestic  circle.  He 
is  writing  to  one  of  its  absent  daughters,  and  apolo- 
gizing "  for  not  having  expressed  sooner  the  higher 
regard  which  I  have  for  you." 

"  But,"  he  proceeds,  "  I  sometimes  find  for  myself  an 
excuse  in  thinking  that  almost  the  whole  of  that  leisure  of 
which  you  were  so  well  entitled  to  a  share,  has  been  en- 
grossed in  that  family  circle  of  which  you  were  wont  to  form 
a  part,  and  with  which  your  warmest  sympathies  will  for  a 
long  time,  perhaps  for  ever,  dwell.  They  are  well,  and 
living  in  that  harmony  and  happiness  which  Providence,  as 
it  must  approve,  will  not,  I  pray,  soon  disturb.  Your 
brothers  and  sisters,  as  formerly,  have  gone  on  securing  the 
esteem  of  their  teachers,  delighting  the  hearts  of  your 
worthy  parents  with  placid  joy,  and  laying  up  for  themselves 
a  fund  of  useful  knowledge,  of  warm  and  virtuous  feelings, 
and  of  pleasing  recollections,  which  will  go  far  to  smooth 
for  them  the  rugged  features  of  life.  God  grant  that  they 
and  you  may  continue  to  merit  all  the  good  that  I  for  one  do 
wish  you,  and  that  you  may  receive  all  that  you  merit.  By 
me  it  shall  ever  be  esteemed  amongst  the  most  fortunate 
events  of  my  life  to  have  been  brought  to  the  acquaintance 
of  your  father  and  his  family ;  and  I  trust  that  the  intimacy 
which  they  have  honoured  me  with,  shall  one  day  ripen  into 
a  closer  connection." 

Then  follow  some  counsels  to  the  young  lady  on  her 
studies  (particularly  recommending  the  acquu^ement  of 
"  a  correct  Enghsh  accent  and  pronunciation  "),  which 
must  have  been  of  rather  an  ambitious  kind. 

"  Last  night  we  had  a  talk  at  the  ]\Ianse  over  a  clause  in 
your  last  letter  about  your  Greek  pursuits ;  and  we  have 
arranged  to  send  you  by  the  first  opportunity   a  copy  of 


»!4  sisTKK  i:i.i/.abi:tii. 

floor's  Grammar  aiul  Dunbar's  Exorcises,  wliicli,  Avilli  the 
Greek  Testament,  will  withstand  your  most  diligent  efforts 
for  at  least  one  year.  Y^n  are  not  far  from  Cambridge  ;  you 
ought  to  possess  yom'self  of  a  complete  set  of  the  Cambridge 
course  (Wood  and  ^'iue's),  and  study  them  regularly ;  at  the 
same  time,  be  cautious  of  losing,  in  the  superior  convenience 
and  readiness  of  the  analj^ical  or  algebraical  method,  the 
simple  and  elegant  spirit  of  the  ancient  Geometry,  to  which 
Leslie's  elements,  especially  the  Analysis,  is  so  good  an  intro- 
duction.    I  would  like  to  have  a  correspondence  with  you  on 

scientific  subjects The  news  of  the  burgh  I 

entrust  to  those  who  know  them  better.  The  people  wear 
the  same  faces  as  when  you  left ;  and  their  manners  seem 
nearly  as  stationary.  I  leave  the  remainder  of  my  paper  to 
Isabel.  I  cannot  claim,  but  do  liope  for  a  letter  soon.  When 
it  comes,  it  shall  be  to  me  like  a  holiday." 

The  lady  addi'essed  in  this  strain  of  old-fashioned 
regard  and  kindness  was  one  with  whom,  in  after  hfe, 
he  had  mucli  intercourse,  and  who  was  not  only  a 
sister,  but  a  friend  capable  of  appreciating  his  character. 
Years  after,  he  expresses,  with  a  certain  7iaive  frankness 
quite  his  own,  his  hopes  that  a  dear  fiiend  about  to 
return  to  Scotland,  and  whom  he  had  earnestly  advised 
to  many,  should  be  "  directed  by  the  Lord  to  one  of 
those  sisters  who  are  in  my  mind  always  represented 
as  one."  Living's  prayer  was  gi'anted.  The  warm- 
hearted and  admirable  Wilham  Hamilton*,  the  friend 

*  William  Hamilton,  a  merchant  in  Cheapside,  and,  like  Irving, 
a  native  of  Dumfriesshire,  was  one  of  the  early  office-bearers  in  the 
Caledonian  Chapel,  Hatton  Garden ;  a  man  who,  in  the  inglorious 
but  profitable  toils  of  business,  concealed  from  the  world  an  amount 
of  practical  sagacity,  unpurchasable,  unacquirable  endowment, 
which  might  have  honoured  a  higher  place,  and  whose  warm  heart 
and  benign  manners  are  remembered  by  many  in  his  own  sphere, 
where  no  man  possessed  a  more  entire  popularity.  He  had  a  share 
in  originating  the  "call"  from  the  scanty  Scotch  congregation,  all  un- 
aware of  what   that  call  of  theirs  was  to  bring  about,  who  brought 


HER   HUSBAND.  65 

of  liis  choice  and  faithful  counsellor  to  the  end,  became 
his  brother-in-law ;  and  to  the  sister  thus  brought  into 
his  immediate  neighbourhood  some  of  his  most  touch- 
ing confidences  were  afterwards  addressed. 

He  had  now  completed  his  necessary  tale  of  collegiate 
sessions,  having  been,  in  the  partial  and  irregular  way 
necessitated  by  his  other  occupations,  in  attendance  at 
the  Divinity  Hall  for  six  long  winters.  He  was  now 
subjected  to  the  "  trials  for  hcense,"  which  Presbyterian 
precautions  require.  "  They  are  now  taken  to  severest 
trials  by  the  Presbytery  of  the  Church  in  those  bounds 
where  they  reside,"  he  himself  describes  with  loving 
boastfulness,  proud  of  the  severities  of  the  Church  from 
which  he  never  could  separate  his  heart, — "and  cir- 
cular letters  are  sent  to  all  the  presbyters  in  that 
district,  in  order  that  objections  may  be  taken  against 
him  who  would  have  the  honour,  and  take  upon  him- 
self the  trust,  of  preaching  Christ.  If  no  objections  are 
offered,  they  proceed  to  make  trial  of  his  attainments 
in  all  things  necessary  for  the  ministry ;  his  knowledge, 
liis  piety,  his  learning,  and  his  character.  They  pre- 
scribe to  him  five  several  discourses  ;  one  an  '  Ecce 
Jesum,'  in  Latin,  to  discover  his  knowledge  in  that 
language ;  another  an  exercise  in  Greek  criticism,  to 
discover  his  knowledge  in  sacred  literature ;  another  a 
homily ;  another  a  discourse  to  the  clergy,  to  know  his 
gifts  in  expounding  the  Scriptures ;  another  a  sermon 
to  know  his  gifts  in  preaching  to  the  people.     These 

Irving  to  London  ;  was  his  close  and  aiFectionate  coadjutor  for  many- 
years;  and  not  being  able  at  last  to  follow  so  far  as  his  beloved  friend 
would  have  led  him,  stood  silently  and  sorrowfliUy  by  to  witness 
that  disruption  and  separation  which  he  could  not  avert. 

VOL.  I.  F 


66  1 11 V 1  X( ;  S^  FI RRT   S I^RM 0 X. 

trials  last  lialf  a  ycwr :  and  briiiL!;  iouiid  sulliciiail,  lu- 
is  permittod  to  pivarli  the  G(xs])r]  anioiiij:  tlio  clnirfhes. 
Vnii  ho  is  not  yet  ordained,  for  our  C'lmrcli  ordaineth 
no  man  without  a  Hock." 

It  is  tluis  tliat  Irving,  when  at  tlie  hciglit  of  his 
fame,  and  opening  the  great  new  clnn'ch  l)uiU  for  liim 
in  London,  affectionately  vaunts  the  carefulness  of  his 
ecclesiastical  mother.  lie  went  through  his  "  trials  "  in 
the  early  part  of  the  year  1815,  and  was  fully  licensed 
to  preach  the  Gospel  by  the  Presbytery  of  Kirkcaldy 
in  the  June  of  that  year ;  and  "  exercised  his  gift," 
according  to  the  old  Scotch  expression,  thereafter  in 
Kirkcaldy,  and  other  places,  with  no  great  amount  of 
popular  appreciation.  A  humorous  description  of  his 
first  sermon,  preached  in  Annan,  is  given  by  an  early 
friend.  The  "  haill  toun,"  profoundly  critical  and  much 
interested,  turned  out  to  hear  him ;  even  his  ancient 
teachers,  with  solemn  brows,  came  out  to  sit  in  judgment 
on  Edward's  sermon.  A  certain  excitement  of  interest, 
unusual  to  that  humdrum  atmosphere,  thrilled  through 
the  building.  When  the  sermon  was  in  full  current, 
some  incautious  movement  of  the  young  preacher  tilted 
aside  the  great  Bible,  and  the  sermon  itself,  that  direful 
"  paper  "  which  Scotch  congregations  hold  in  high  de- 
spite, dropped  out  bodily,  and  fluttered  down  upon  the 
precentor's  desk  underneath.  A  perfect  rustle  of  ex- 
citement ran  through  the  chuixh;  here  was  an  unhoped- 
for crisis ! — what  would  the  neophyte  do  ncjw  P  The 
young  preacher  calmly  stooped  his  great  figure  over 
the  pulpit,  grasped  the  manuscript  as  it  lay,  broadways, 
crushed  it  up  in  his  great  hand,  thrust  it  into  a  pocket, 
and  went  on  as  fluently  as  before.      There  does  not  exist 


SUPERIOKITY   TO    "THE    PAPER."  67 

a  congregation  in  Scotland  which  that  act  would  not 
have  taken  by  storm.  His  success  was  triumphant. 
To  criticise  a  man  so  visibly  independent  of  "  the 
paper  "  would  have  been  presumption  indeed. 

In  Kirkcaldy,  however,  his  appearances  neither  ex- 
cited such  interest,  nor  were  attended  by  any  such 
fortunate  accidents.  The  people  hstened  doubtfully  to 
those  thunder-strains  which  echoed  over  their  heads, 
and  which  were  certainly  not  hke  Dr.  Martin's  sermons. 
They  could  not  tell  what  to  make  of  discourses  so 
strangely  different  from  the  discourses  of  other  orthodox 
young  probationers,  and  doubtless  the  style  was  still 
unformed,  and  had  not  yet  attained  that  rhythm  and 
music  which  would  not  have  passed  unnoticed  even  in 
Kirkcaldy;  yet  the  common  complaint  alleged  against 
it  was  perfectly  characteristic.  "  He  had  ower  muckle 
gran'ner,"  the  good  people  said,  with  disturbed  looks. 
Too  much  grandeur !  most  true,  but  most  singular  of 
criticisms!  A  certain  baker,  Beveridge  byname  (let  us 
hand  it  down  to  such  immortahty  as  can  be  conferred 
by  this  record),  rudely,  with  Scotch  irreverence  for  the 
place  in  which  he  was,  kicked  his  pew-door  open  and 
l3ounced  forth  out  of  the  church,  when  the  lofty  head  of 
the  young  schoolmaster  was  seen  in  the  pulpit ;  and  the 
same  church,  which  a  few  years  after  was  disastrously 
crowded,  with  hearers  coming  far  and  near  at  the  name 
of  the  great  preacher,  thinned  out  of  its  ordinary  at- 
tendance in  those  early  days  when  he  was  to  supply 
Dr.  Martin's  place.  He  got  no  credit  and  little  en- 
couragement in  what  was,  after  all,  his  real  vocation. 
The  fervent  beginnings  of  his  eloquence  were  thrown 
back   cold  upon  his  heart ;    no   eye  in  his  audience 

F    2 


r,R  *'(nvi:ii  mitklk  (.kannkk. 

inakiiig  response  to  tlmf  iin]i(M'feet  spli'iidid  voire  of 
lialf-developed  genius,  wliicli  was  so  wonderfully  dis- 
tinct from  tlie  common-place  shrills  of  ordinary  pulpit 
declamation,  which  tliey  listened  to  and.  relished.  lie 
had  "  ower  muckk'  gran'ner "  for  the  good,  people  of 
Kirkcaldy.  1  lis  chaotic  splendours  disconcerted  them; 
and  no  doubt  there  Avas  a  certain  justice  in  the  o-eneral 
voice.  A  style  so  licli  and  splendid  might  very  well 
have  sounded  turgid  or  bombastic  in  youth,  before  the 
harmonious  keynote  had  been  found. 

He  lingered  three  years  after  his  license  as  a 
preacher,  in  his  schoolmaster's  desk  ;  silent,  listening 
to  other  preachers,  not  always  with  much  edifica- 
tion; noting  how  the  people  to  whom  his  own  "un- 
acceptableness "  was  apparent,  relished  the  platitudes 
of  meaner  men :  laying  in  imconsciously  a  certain 
scorn  and  intolerance  of  those  limited  pretenders  to 
wisdom,  whose  sham  or  borrowed  coin  had  fuller 
currency  than  his  own  virgin  gold ;  and  as  he  sat 
in  a  position  from  which  lie  could  at  once  watch  the 
])u]pit  and  the  audience,  with  thoughts  on  this  moment- 
ous and  often-discussed  subject  taking  gradual  form  in 
his  mind,  he  asked  himself  the  reasons  of  his  own 
apparent  failure.  He  asked  himself  a  still  deeper  ques- 
tion, whether  this  was  the  preaching  of  Paul  and  his 
brother  apostles  P  This  process  of  thought  is  apparent 
throughout  all  liis  works,  and  above  all  in  the  Ora- 
tions Avith  which  he  first  burst  upon  the  world.  Those 
three  years  of  slow  successive  Sundays,  now  and  then 
interrupted  by  an  occasional  appearance  in  the  pulpit 
hailed  by  no  gracious  looks,  gave  the  silent  listener, 
whose  vocation  it  was  to  preach,  deep  insight  into,  and 


OTHER   people's   SERMONS.  69 


deeper  impatience  of,  the  common  conventionalities  of 
the  pulpit.  He  found  out  how  httle  the  sermons  he  heaixl 
touched  his  case  :  to  his  own  mind  he  represented  him- 
self, all  glowing  with  genius  and  eagerness,  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  the  educated  hearer,  and  chafed,  as  many 
a  man  has  chafed  since,  over  the  dead  platitudes  which 
were  only  a  weariness.  It  is  probable  that  this  com- 
pulsory pause,  irksome  as  it  may  have  been,  was  of 
the  profoundest  importance  both  to  Irving  and  to  his 
future  eloquence.  It  dehvered  him  entirely  from  the 
snare  of  self-admiration,  so  far  as  his  pulpit  efforts  were 
concerned,  and  concentrated  his  powers  on  the  perfec- 
tion of  his  style  and  utterance ;  while  it  gave  at  once  to 
his  Christian  zeal  and  human  ambition  the  sharpest  of 
all  spurs — the  keen  stimulus  of  seeing  other  men  do 
that  work  badly  or  slothfuhy,  which  he  felt  it  was  in 
him  to  do  weU.  The  pecuhar  position  of  a  Scotch  pro- 
bationer, on  the  very  threshold  of  the  Church,  but  not 
within  it ;  a  preacher,  but  stiU  only  a  layman,  with  the 
title  of  reverend  sometimes  accorded  to  him  by  cour- 
tesy, but  entirely  without  ecclesiastical  position,  gave 
him  all  the  greater  facility  for  forming  a  judgment  upon 
the  inadequacies  of  the  ordinary  pulpit.  Such  specula- 
tions were  not  common  in  those  days.  People  who 
acknowledged  the  influence  of  the  Church,  considered 
themselves  bound,  for  reasons  both  rehgious  and  poli- 
tical, to  maintain  it  in  all  points,  and  suffer  no  assault ; 
while  those  who  did  not,  held  it  in  entire  contempt,  as 
an  unimprovable  institution.  The  Kirkcaldy  proba- 
tioner belonged  to  neither  of  these  classes.  He  saw 
with  an  ideal  eye,  which  went  as  yet  far  beyond  his 
powers  of  execution,  what  that  pulpit  could  do  and 


70  HIS   THOUGHTS    ABOUT   rRKACHIXG. 

oiiillit  to  do.     TIo  w;is  by  fnr  too  hold  :ind  candid,  iind 
too  tlioroughlj' a.<;siired  of  the  truth  lie  licld,  to  be  afraid 
of  attracting  notice  to  its  imperfections ;  on  the  con- 
trary, it  chafed  his  very  soul  to  i)ennit  it  to  be  sup- 
posed that  reliuioii  mid  religious  teaching  were  for  the 
vulgar  only,  and  that  what  satislicd  baker  Deveritlge 
was  to  be  considered  sufficient  for  the  world  ;  and  while 
he  was  silent  his  heart  burned.     With  a  temperament 
such  as  his,  loving  love  and  approbation,  as  it  was  natural 
for  him  to  do,  and  believing   in   the  sincerity  of  all 
men,    no   other   discipline   could    have  been   half   so 
efTective.    He  learned,  if  not  to  distrust  himself,  at  least 
to  admit,  with  a  certain  sorrowful  but  candid  astonish- 
ment, that  the  world  in  general  did  not  take  a  lofty  view 
of  his  quahfications :   and  he  paused  over  it,  weighing 
that  and  its  causes  in  his  heart  with  manful  humility  and 
surprise — meaning  to  be  at  the  bottom  of  this  ere  all 
wais  done  ;  feeUng  m  his  heart  that  it  was  only  for  a  time. 
During  this  period  of  his  life,  his  personal  religious 
sentiments   are  not  ver}^  ap])arent,    nor  is  there  any 
record,  so  far  as  I   have  been    able   to  ascertain,  of 
such  a  critical  moment  in   his  life  as  those  which  have 
formed   the  turning  })oint  of  so  many  minds.     He  was 
bp(jtless   hi  manners  and   morals  at  all  times  ;  but  not 
without  faults  of  temper;  and  was  specially  distinguished 
by  a  certain  cheerful,  cordial  pugnacity,  and  readiness, 
when  occasion  called  for  it,  to  adopt  a  boldly  offensive 
line  of  tactics  in  support  of  his  own  dignity  and  inde- 
pendence,  or   those   of  his   class ;    partly   stimulated 
thereto,  doubtless,  by  the  great  personal  strength  wliich 
could  no  more  consent  to  remain  inactive   than  any 
other  of  his  gifts.     In  one  of  his  many  walking  excur- 


ADVENTURE   IN    A   HIGHLAND    INN.  71 

sions,  for  example,  he  and  his  companion  came  toahttle 
roadside  inn,  where  there  was  but  one  sitting-room,  of 
a  very  homely  description.  The  young  men  left  their 
coats  and  knapsacks  in  this  room,  ordered  dinner,  and 
went  out  to  investigate  the  neighbourhood  while  it  was 
getting  ready.  On  then'  return,  however,  they  found 
the  room  occupied  by  a  party  of  tourists,  the  only 
table  filled,  their  dinner  forestalled,  and  their  belong- 
ings huddled  into  a  corner.  Eemonstrances  were  un- 
availing; the  intruders  not  only  insisted  that  they  had 
a  right  to  retain  possession  of  the  room,  but  resisted 
the  entrance  of  the  hungry  and  tired  pedestrians,  and 
would  neither  share  the  table  nor  the  apartment.  When 
fair  means  were  no  longer  practicable,  Irving  pushed 
forward  to  the  window,  and  threw  it  wide  open  ;  then, 
turning  towards  the  company,  all  ready  for  action, 
gravely  addressed  his  comrade: — "Will  you  toss  out  or 
knock  down  ?  " — a  business-like  inquiry,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  story,  changed  with  great  rapidity  the  aspect  of 
affairs.  Other  anecdotes  not  unsimilar  might  be  quoted. 
"  In  the  year  1816,"  says  Dr.  Grierson,  "  the  42nd  Eegi- 
ment,  having  returned  after  Waterloo,  was  employed 
to  line  the  streets  of  Edinburgh  on  the  day  when,  at 
the  opening  of  the  General  Assembly,  the  Eoyal  Com- 
missioner proceeded  in  state  from  the  reception  hall 
in  Hunter  Square,  to  St.  Giles's.  Standing  in  front  of 
the  Grenadier  Company,  Irving  said  to  me,  pointing  to 
the  tallest  man  among  them,  '  Do  you  see  that  feUow  ? 
1  should  hke  to  meet  him  in  a  dark  entry.'  '  For  what 
reason  ?'  I  inquired.  'Just,'  said  he,  '  that  I  might  find 
out  what  amount  of  drubbing  I  could  bear  ! ' " 

The  meeting  of  Assembly  here  referred  to  was  enli- 


7J  WAKLIKH   ASriRATION. 

voncd  by  n  inomontniT  spociiiicn  <>f  llic  j'oiing  man's 
muscular  power.  It  is  iiupossihU',  out  of  Scotland, 
to  form  any  idea  oi"  wliat  was  then  the  interest  excited 
by  the  General  Assembly,  whirh  had  In-rw  for  centuries 
the  national  parlianuMit  of  exclusive  Scottish  principles 
and  feelings.  Tlic  lale  J.ord  Cockbuiii  in  his  Memo- 
riak,  as  well  a,s  in  his  life  of  Lord  Jeffrey,  has  repro- 
duced, in  sliixht  but  ur:i]iliic  sketches,  the  characteristic 
aspect  of  that  imique  ecclesiastical  body.  Scotch 
churchmen  may  naturally  enough  object  to  the  friendly 
but  not  reverential  description  of  the  brilliant  lawyer; 
but  it  is  almost  the  only  popular  picture  of  the  most 
national  of  all  Scotch  institutions  which  can  be  referred 
to.  Matters  are  altered  now-a-days ;  the  unity  is 
broken  ;  and,  however  interestuig  llie  amuial  meetings 
of  the  Scotch  Chmxhes  may  be,  there  are  now  two  of 
them,  both  of  Avhich  are  incomplete,  and  neither  of  wliich 
has  a  full  title  to  be  called  national.  At  the  period  of 
which  w^e  are  now  speaking,  there  was  scarcely  any 
dissent  in  the  country  ;  tlie  body  of  the  nation  held 
tenaciously  by  the  Kirk,  laymen  of  the  highest  class 
shared  m  its  dehberations,  and  the  most  distinguished 
lawyers  of  the  Scotch  bar  pleaded  in  its  judicial  courts. 
A  great  discussion  in  the  Assembly  was  as  interesting  to 
Edinburgh  as  a  great  debate  in  Parliament  would  be  in 
London  to-day  ;  and  the  interest,  and  even  excitement, 
Avhich  attended  this  yearly  Convocation,  had  taken  a 
stimulus  from  the  growing  stir  of  external  life,  and  from 
the  still  more  important  growth  of  existence  within.  The 
time  was  critical  for  eveiy  existing  institution.  The 
Church,  long  donnant,  was,  like  other  organisations, 
betrinning  to  thrill  with  a  new  force,  against  whi<li  nil 


GENERAL   ASSEMBLY.  73 

the  slumbrous  past  arrayed  itself;  and  the  Scotclimetro- 
poUs  was  stkred  with  universal  emotion  to  see  the  new 
act  of  that  world-long  drama  which  is  renewed  from  age 
to  age  in  every  church  and  country ;  that  struggle  m 
which,  once  in  a  century  at  least,  indifference  and  com- 
mon usage  are  brought  to  bay  by  the  new  life  rismg 
against  them,  and,  roused  at  last,  fight  for  their  sluggish 
existence  with  such  powers  as  they  are  able  to  muster. 
At  such  a  moment  occurred  the  famous  "  Debate  on 
Plurahties,"  which  Jiolds  an  important  place  in  the 
modern  history  of  the  Scotch  Chm^ch — a  debate  in 
which  "  Chalmers  of  Kilmany,"  not  long  before  zea- 
lously ambitious  to  hold  such  pluralities  in  his  own 
person,  but  who  had  since  gone  through  that  myste- 
rious and  wonderful  change  in  his  \iews,  whicli,  when 
clearly  honest  and  undoubted,  no  human  audience 
can  refuse  to  be  uiterested  m,  was  to  lead  the  attack. 
The  plurahties  in  question  were  such  as  might  awaken 
the  smiles  of  the  richer  estabhshment  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Tweed,  where  the  word  bears  a  more  important 
meaning.  The  widest  extent  of  pluralities  possible  to 
a  Scotch  clergjTiian  was  that  of  holding  a  professor's 
chak  in  conjunction  ■\vith  his  pulpit  and  parochial 
duties.  This  question,  which  at  the  time,  from  the 
parties  and  principle  involved,  interested  everybody, 
had  naturally  a  double  interest  for  the  futm^e  ministers 
of  the  Chm'ch.  The  probationers  and  students  of 
divinity  were  eager  to  gain  admittance.  The  Assembly 
sat  in  a  portion  of  St.  Giles's,  known  by  the  name  of  the 
Old  Assemby  Aisle,  one  of  the  quaint  sub-divisions  into 
which  that  church,  like  Glasgow  Cathedral  in  former 
days,  has  been  partitioned  for  congregational  use  and 


74  DKBATE    ON    PLURALITIES. 

convciiionco.  and  wliore  tlio  narrow  pews  and  deep  steep 
galleries,  thrust  in  between  tlie  lofty  pillars,  arc  as  much 
out  of  keeping  witli  tliose  i)illars  themselves  as  is  the 
wliite-washed  blank  of  wall,  despoiled  of  its  tombs  and 
altars,  under  the  calm  hcisj-ht  of  the  vault  above.  "  The 
Old  Assembly  Aisle,"  says  the  gentleman  already  quoted, 
"  afforded  but  veiy  limited  accommodation,  and  the 
students'  gallery  was  understood  to  be  occui'ied  by 
some  persons  not  of  their  body.  At  this  Ii'ving  felt 
crreat  indiirnation.  He  remonstrated  with  the  door- 
keeper,  but  in  vain  ;  he  demanded  entrance  for  himself 
and  othei-s  who  were  excluded  ;  and  when  no  attention 
was,  or  perhaps  could  be,  paid  by  that  official,  he  put 
his  shoulder  to  the  narrow  door,  and,  applying  his 
Herculean  strength  to  it,  fairly  wrenched  it  off  its 
hinges !  The  crash  interrupted  the  proceedings  of  the 
com-t,  and  produced  both  surprise  and  diversion,  but 
no  redress  of  grievances." 

A  somewhat  unscrupulous  mode  of  entering  a  church, 
it  must  be  allowed.  Such  incidents  as  these — and  they 
might  easily  be  multi[)lied — dis})lay,  in  perhaps  its 
least  ol)jectionable  form,  that  of  dov/nright  personal 
force  and  resistance,  the  national  characteristic  intoler- 
ance of  circumstances,  and  determination  to  subdue 
all  outside  obstacles  to  its  will,  wliich  shows  so  strongly 
in  the  youthful  development  of  Scotchmen ;  a  quahty 
little  recognised,  but  most  influential,  and  which  has 
largely  affected  the  recent  history  of  the  Scotch  Church. 
Nobody  can  read  the  Hfe  of  Chalmers,  manful  and 
often  splendid  as  that  Hfe  is,  without  a  perception  of 
this  determined  wilfulness,  and  disincUnation  to  yield 
to   circumstances.     If  the   same   tendency   is   not  so 


INTOLERANCE   OF    CIRCUMSTANCES.  75 

apparent  in  the  Jeffreys,  Cockburns,  and  Tytlers  of 
another  class,  it  is  probably  because  the  somewhat 
higher  social  sphere  of  the  latter  had  tempered  the 
sharpness  of  their  nationahty.  Irving's  personal  strengtli 
and  rehsh  for  its  exercise  threw  into  amusing  outward 
exhibitions  of  force  a  quahty  wliich,  though  always 
pictiu-esque  and  characteristic,  is  not  always  amiable. 

As  the  time  of  his  probation  lengthened  out,  it  is 
probable  that  Irving,  with  all  his  inclinations  rising 
towards  the  profession  which  the  Church  had  now 
solemnly  sanctioned  his  choice  of,  and  pronounced  him 
capable  for,  became  very  w^eary  of  his  schoolmaster 
life.  Another  school,  in  opposition  to  his,  w^as  set  up 
in  the  town,  not  apparently  from  any  distaste  towards 
him,  but  from  the  advancing  desire  for  Hberal  educa- 
tion which  his  OAvn  loiig  apprenticeship  in  Kirkcaldy 
must  have  fostered  ;  a  school  which  —  singular  luck 
for  the  httle  Fife  seaport — secured  the  early  services 
of  Thomas  Carlyle.  Changes  too,  and  attempts  at 
widening  out  his  limited  possibilities,  appear  in  his  own 
life.  To  increase  the  profits  of  his  post — which  how- 
ever of  themselves  appear  to  have  been  considerable,  as 
such  matters  go, — Irving  made  an  attempt  to  receive 
private  pupils,  who  were  to  attend  his  school  and  hve 
under  his  own  charge.  For  this  purpose,  he  took  up 
his  abode  in  the  Abbotshall  schooHiouse,  at  one  ex- 
tremity of  the  town  of  Kirkcaldy,  but  in  another  parish, 
the  parish  schoolmaster  of  which  was,  Hke  himself,  a 
candidate  for  the  Church.  The  house  was  the  upper 
flat  of  the  building  occupied  as  a  school,  and  was  more 
commodious  than  the  majority  of  schoohnasters'  houses. 
A  nobler  Marina  could  not  be  than  the  broad  terrace 


76  ABBOTTSIIALL   SCIIOOL-IIOUSE. 

overlooking  the  Firth,  but  totally  unappropriated  to 
any  uses  of  fashion  or  visitors,  upon  which  stands  the 
schoolhouse  of  Abbotshall,  beholding  from  its  range  of 
windows  a  wide  landscape,  always  interesting,  and  often 
splendid,  the  Firth  with  all  its  islands,  the  distant  spires 
and  heights  of  Edinburgh,  and  the  green  Lothian  coast 
with  itsbaVs  and  hills.  Wlu-tlier  the  pupils  were  slow 
to  come,  or  the  conjoint  household  did  not  answer,  or 
Irving  himself  tired  of  the  experiment,  does  not  appear  ; 
but  it  was  soon  given  up,  and  does  not  seem  to  have 
had  any  success.  "Ay,  Mr.  Irving  once  lived  here — he 
was  a  great  mathematician ;"  says  tlie  present  in- 
cumbent, complacent  among  his  gooseberry  bushes ; 
spoken  in  that  sunny  garden,  such  words  throw  back 
and  set  aside  the  years  which  have  made  little  change 
on  anything  but  man.  One  forgets  how  his  sun  rose 
to  noon,  and  at  noon  chsastrously  went  down,  carrpng 
with  it  a  world  of  hopes ;  a  mist  of  distance  conceals 
the  brilliant  interval  between  this  homely  house  and  the 
Glasgow  Cathedral  crj^ot.  Here,  where  once  he  hved, 
it  is  not  the  great  preacher,  the  prophet  and  wonder  of 
an  age,  whose  shadow  lingers  on  tlie  kindly  soil.  He 
was  master  of  Kirkcaldy  Academy  in  those  days.  He 
was  "  a  great  mathematician  "  ;  the  glory  of  an  after 
career,  foreign  to  the  schoolroom,  has  not  rubbed  out 
that  impression  from  the  mind  of  his  humble  successor 
on  the  spot  where  as  yet  he  had  no  other  fame. 


77 


CHAPTEE  V. 


AFLOAT   ON   THE   WOELD. 


In  1818,  when  he  had  been  seven  years  m  Kirkcaldy, 
and  had  now  reached  the  maturity  of  his  twenty-sixth 
year,  Irving  finally  left  his  school  and  gave  up  teacliing. 
The  position  seems  to  have  been  growing  irksome  to 
him  for  some  time  before.     It  was  not  his  profession ; 
and  he  was  wasting  the  early  summer  of  his  life  in 
work  which,  however  cordially  he  embraced  it,  was 
not  the  best  work  for  such  a  man.     His  assistants  too, 
on  whom  as  the  school  increased  he  had  to  depend, 
brought  him  into  other  complications  ;  and  he  was  now 
no  longer  a  youth  lingering  at  the  beginning  of  his 
career,  but  a  man  eager  to  enter  the  arena  where  so 
many   others   less   worthy   were   contending   for   the 
prize  ;    and  not   only  so,  but  a  man  engaged  to  be 
married,  to  whom  nature  indicated  the  necessity  of 
fixing  himself  permanently  in  life.     Moved  by  the  rising 
excitement  of  aU  these  thoughts,  and  apparently  not 
without  means  of  maintaining  himself  for  some  time, 
while  he  saw  what  work  the  world  might  have  for  him 
to  do,  he  finally  gave  up  the  Kirkcaldy  academy  in  the 
summer  of  1818,  and  resolving  henceforward  to  devote 
himself  to  his  own   profession  alone,   came  to   Edin- 
burgh, where   he   took   lodgings  in  Bristo   Street,   a 


7S  r,KIST(^  STRIIHT. 

loaility  s^till  frequciUcd  by  students.  Hero  he  was 
near  the  Colletre,  and  in  tlie  (*entre  of  all  that  mental 
aetivity  from  Avliieli  he  liad  been  separated  in  the 
drowsy  retirement  of  the  country  town,  lie  entered 
larirely  and  gladly  into  all  academical  pursuits.  He 
renewed  his  acquaintance  with  friends  wlio  had  been 
with  him  in  his  early  college  days ;  or  whom  he  had 
met  in  his  hurried  \dsits  to  Edinburgh,  Avliile  hngering 
through  his  tedious  "  partial "  sessions  in  the  Divinity 
llall ;  and  seems  to  have  heartily  set  to  work  to 
increase  his  o^vll  attainments,  and  make  himself  better 
quahlied  for  wdiatever  post  he  might  be  called  to. 
It  is  not  a  brilhant  peri^^d  in  the  young  man's  life, 
lie  presents  himself  to  us  in  the  aspect  of  an  unsuc- 
cessful probationer,  a  figure  never  rare  in  Scotland  ;  a 
man  upon  whom  no  sunshine  of  patronage  shone,  and 
whom  just  as  little  had  the  popular  eye  found  out  or 
fixed  upon  ;  whose  services  were  unsolicited  either  by 
friendly  ministers  or  vacant  congregations  —  a  man 
fuUy  hcensed  and  qualified  to  preach,  whom  nobody 
cared  to  hear.  With  the  conviction  strong  in  his  mind 
that  this  was  his  appointed  function  in  the  world,  and 
with  a  consciousness  of  having  pondered  the  whole 
matter  much  more  deeply  than  is  usual  with  young 
preachers,  there  rose  before  Irving  the  immovable 
baiTier  of  unsuccess  ; —  not  failure  ;  he  had  never  found 
means  to  tiy  liis  powers  sufiiciently  for  failure  — 
even  that  might  have  been  less  hard  to  bear  than  the 
Ijlank  of  indifierence  and  "  unacceptability "  which  he 
had  now  to  endure.  His  services  were  not  required  in 
the  world  ;  the  profession  for  wdiich,  by  the  labours  of 
so  many  years,  he  had  slowly  qualified  himself,  hung 


RENEWED    STUDIES.  79 

in   his   hands,   an   idle   capahihty  of   which    nothing 
came.     Yet  the  pause  at  first  seems  to  have  been  grate- 
fid.     He  had  nothing  to  do  —  but  at  all  events  he  had 
escaped  from  long  toihng  at  a  trade  which  was  not  his. 
Accordingly,  he  attended  several  classes  in  the  Col- 
lege during  the  winter  of  1818-19  ;    among  which 
were  Chemistry  and  Natural  History.     "  He  prosecuted 
these  studies,"  says  a  fellow-student,  "  at  least  in  some 
of  their  branches,  with  great  delight ; "  although  in  a 
note  written  at  this  period  to  ]\Ir.  Gordon,  afterwards 
Dr.  Gordon  of  Edinburgh,  he  confesses,  while  mention- 
ing that  he  had  been  studying  mineralogy,  "  that  he  had 
learned   from   it  as  httle  about  the  structure   of  the 
earth  as   he   could   have   learned  about   the   blessed 
Gospel  by  examining  the  book  of  kittle*  Chronicles  !  " 
He  was  also  much  occupied  with  the  modern  languages  ; 
French  and   Italian   especially.      These    were   before 
the  days  of  Teutonic  enthusiasm  ;  but  Irvhig  seems  to 
have   had   a  pleasure   in,  and   faculty  for,  acquiring 
languages,  as  was  testified  by  his  rapid  acquirement 
of  Spanish  at  an  after  period  of  his  hfe.     Some  of  the 
few  letters  which  tlirow  any  light  on  this  period  are 
occupied  with  discussions  about  dictionaries  and  gram- 
mars, and  the  different  prices  of  the  same  —  which 
show  him  deep  in  the  pursuit  of  Itahan,  and  at  the 
same  time  actmg  as  general  agent  and  ready  undertaker 
of  country  commissions.     One  of  these,  addressed  to 
one  of  his  pupils  in  the  manse  of  Kirkcaldy,  conveys, 
after  reporting  his  dihgence  in  respect  to  sundry  of 
such  commissions,  the  following  advice  : — 

"  Let  me  entreat  you  to  pursue  your  own  improve- 

*  Difficult,  puzzling. 


80  ADVICK. 

moiit  j^odulouslv,  l)i)lh  rcliu-'ioiis  and  iuk'HcH'tual.  iu'ad 
some  of  tlie  Latin  and  luilian  cliiasics,  Avith  a  view  to 
the  higlier  acroni])lislnn(Mits  of  tnsto  and  sentiment, 
directinir  all  your  studies  by  the  principle  of  fitting 
your  mind  still  more  and  more  for  perceiving  the 
beauties  and  excellences  God  lias  spread  over  tlic 
existence  of  man." 

Such  a  motive  for  studies  of  this  description  has 
novehy  hi  it,  though  it  is  one  that  we  are  well  enough 
accustomed  to  see  appUed  to  all  those  educational 
preparations  of  science  with  which  our  schools  abound. 
While  he  thus  occupied  liimself  in  completing  an 
education  which  throughout  must  have  been  more  a 
gradual  process  of  improving  and  furnishing  the  mind 
than  of  systematic  study,  Irving  had  also  engaged 
warmly  m  all  the  recognised  auxiliaries  of  university 
training.  He  had  been  in  the  habit  for  years  before  of 
occasionally  attending  the  meetings  of  one  of  the 
literary  societies  of  the  College,  the  Philomathic,  and 
taking  a  considerable  share  in  its  proceedings.  "  He 
was  sometimes  very  keen  and  powerful  m  debate,"  says 
Dr.  Grierson, "  and  without  being  unfair  or  overbearing, 
was  occasionally  in  danger,  by  the  vehemence  of  his 
manner  and  the  strong  language  he  employed,  of  being 
misunderstood  and  giving  offence."  But  on  coming  to 
Edinlnirgh  in  1818,  he  found  this  society,  now  defunct, 
too  juvenile  for  his  maturer  age  and  thoughts  ;  and 
was  instrumental  in  instituting  another  of  riper  preten- 
sion.<,  intended  "for  the  mutual  improvement  of  those 
who  had  already  completed  the  ordinary  academic 
course."  This  was  called  the  Philosophical  Association, 
and  consisted  only  of  seven  or  eight  members  ;  of  whom 


LITEEAKY   SOCIETIES.  81 

Edward  Irving  was  one  and  Thomas  Carlyle  another. 
Some  teachers  of  local  eminence  and  licentiates  of  the 
Church  made  up  the  number.  The  vast  disproportion 
which  exists  now  between  these  immortals  and  the 
nameless,  but  in  their  own  sphere  not  undistinguished, 
men  who  surrounded  them,  was  not  apparent  in  those 
days  ;  and  probably  the  lesser  men  were  at  no  such 
disadvantage  in  their  argumentations  as  one  would 
imagine  at  the  first  glance.  The  first  essay  dehvered 
by  Irving  in  this  society  was  "  somewhat  unexpectedly," 
his  old  compamon  says,  on  the  subject  of  Bible  Societies, 
and  "  was  full  of  thought,  ardour,  and  eloquence,  indi- 
cating large  views  and  a  mind  prepared  for  high  and 
holy  enterprise."  It  would  be  curious  to  know  what 
he  had  to  say  on  a  subject  which  afterwards  caused  so 
much  commotion,  and  on  which  some  of  his  own  most 
characteristic  appearances  were  made.  But  the  Pliilo- 
sophical  Association  is  also  defunct ;  other  generations 
have  formed  other  societies  of  their  own,  and  the 
early  sentiments  of  Irving  and  Carlyle  are  as  entirely 
lost  as  are  those  of  their  less  distinguished  colleagues. 

In  the  reviving  glow  of  intellectual  life,  his  long 
pondermg  upon  the  uses  of  the  pulpit  came  to  a  dis- 
tinct issue.  He  amiounced  his  intention  of  burning 
all  his  existing  sermons,  and  beffinnino-  on  a  new 
system :  an  intention  wliich  was  remorselessly  carried 
out.  Those  prelections  which  the  youth  had  dehvered 
from  year  to  year  in  the  Divinity  Hall,  and  those  dis- 
courses which  the  Kirkcaldy  parishioners  had  despised, 
and  Beveridge  the  baker  had  boldly  escaped  from  hear- 
ing, were  sacrificed  in  this  true  auto-da-fe.  No  doubt 
it  was  a  fit  and  wise  holocaust.      Sacrificino;  all  his 

VOL.    I.  G 


82  r.KGlXS  ANEW. 

youthful  oonvcntionalities  and  speculations,  Irving,  at 
six-and-twenty,  began  to  conijiosc  what  lie  was  to 
address  to  such  imaginary  hearers  as  he  himself  had 
been  in  Kirkcaldy  church.  The  wonderful  fame  which 
flashed  upon  him  whenever  he  stood  forth  single  before 
the  world,  takes  a  certain  explanation  even  beyond  the 
pereiniial  explanation  of  all  wonders  which  lies  in 
genius,  from  this  fact.  For  the  four  silent  years  dm^ing 
which  he  had  possessed  the  right  to  speak,  other  people 
had  been  addressing  him  out  of  Dr.  Martin's  pidpit ; 
all  the  ordinarj^  round  of  argument  and  exhortation  had 
been  tried  in  unconscious  experiment  upon  the  soul  of 
the  great  preacher,  who  sat  silent,  chafing  yet  weighing 
them  all  in  his  heart.  lie  knew  where  they  failed,  and 
hoAV  they  failed,  for  more  distinctly  than  reason  or  even 
imagination  could  have  taught  him.  Their  tedium, 
their  ineffectiveness,  their  wasted  power  and  super- 
ficial feehng,  told  all  the  more  strongly  upon  him  be- 
cause of  his  consciousness  that  the  place  thus  occupied 
was  his  own  fit  place,  and  that  he  himself  had  actually 
something  to  say ;  and  when  the  schoolmaster's  daily 
duties  were  over,  and  he  had  time  and  leisure  to  turn 
towards  his  ow^n  full  equipment,  the  result  was  such  as 
I  have  just  described.  Warmed  and  stimulated  by  his 
own  experience,  he  began  to  write  sermons  to  himself — 
that  unpatient,  vehement  hearer,  whose  character  and 
inteUigence  none  of  the  other  preachers  had  studied. 
Perhaps,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  modern  outcry  against 
sermons,  the  preachers  of  the  world  might  adopt  Irving's 
method  with  advantage.  Wliile  he  wrote  he  had 
always  in  his  eye  that  bn'lliant,  dissatisfied,  restless 
listener,  among  the  side  pews  in  Kirkcaldy   chinch. 


BECOMES    HIS    OWN   HEAREE.  83 

He  knew  to  a  hair's-breadth  wliat  that  impatient  indi- 
vidual wanted, — how  much  he  could  bear — how  he 
could  be  interested,  edified,  or  disgusted.  I  have  no 
doubt  it  was  one  of  the  greatest  secrets  of  his  after  power ; 
and  that  the  sweet  breath  of  popular  applause,  pleasant 
though  it  might  have  been,  would  have  injured  the 
genius  which,  in  silence,  and  unacceptableness,  and 
dire  prolonged  experiment  of  other  people's  preaching, 
came  to  be  its  own  perennial  hearer — the  first  and 
deepest  critic  of  its  own  powers. 

One  of  the  firstoccasions  when  he  preached  on  this  new 
system,  Dr.  Grierson  adds,  "  He  was  engaged  to  supply 
the  pulpit  of  his  old  professor  of  divinity  (Dr.  Ritchie), 
when,  in  his  noble  and  impassioned  zeal  for  the  supreme 
and  infaUible  standard  of  Scripture,  he  startled  his 
audience  by  a  somewhat  unqualified  condemnation  of 
ecclesiastical  formulas,  although  he  still  unquestionably 
maintamed,  as  he  had  conscientiously  subscribed,  all  the 
doctrines  of  our  orthodox  Confession  of  Faith."  "  He 
was  very  fearless,  original,  strildng,  and  solemn,"  con- 
tinues the  same  authority,  "  m  many  of  his  statements, 
illustrations,  and  appeals."  Though  he  is  described, 
and  mdeed  afterwards  describes  himself,  as  still  "  feehno- 
his  way '  in  respect  to  some  matters  of  rehgious  truth, 
doubt  does  not  seem  ever  to  have  invaded  his  mind. 
At  no  period  is  there  any  appearance  of  either  scepti- 
cism or  uncertainty.  Wliile  his  mind  took  exception 
at  the  manner  in  which  the  truth  was  set  forth,  there 
is  no  trace  in  his  life  of  that  period  of  uncertain  or 
negative  belief — that  agony  of  conflict  which  has  come, 
falsely  or  truly,  to  be  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  inevitable 
phenomena  of  spiritual  life  in  every  independent  mind, 

G    2 


84  UXDISTl'RBED    BELIEF. 

The  licroio  sinijilicity  of  Irving's  charactor  scoiii^^  to 
liave  rejected  tliat  vain  contest  among  the  inconn)relien- 
sibles  M'itli  wliicli  so  many  young  men  begin  tlieir  career. 
Even  in  tlie  arbitrary,  reasoning,  unreasonable  days  of 
youtli,  logic  was  not  the  god  of  the  young  man,  Avho 
never  could  disjoin  his  head  from  his  lieart,  nor  dis- 
solve the  absolute  unity  of  nature  m  which  God  had 
made  liini ;  and  he  seems  to  have  come  through  all  the 
perils  of  his  time — a  time  in  which  scepticism,  if  less 
refined,  was  by  a  great  deal  franker,  honester,  and  more 
outspoken  than  now — with  a  heart  untouched  ;  and  to 
have  entirely  escaped  what  Avas  then  called  Free-think- 
ing. \Miether  his  personal  piety  originated  in  any  visible 
crisis  of  conversion  it  is  impossible  to  tell.  There  is  no 
trace  of  it  in  his  liistory,  neither  does  he  himself  refer 
to  any  sudden  hght  cast  upon  his  hfe.  "  I  was  present 
once  or  twice  about  this  period,"  Dr.  Grierson  tells  us, 
"  when  he  was  asked  to  conduct  family  prayers.  He 
was  very  slow,  pointed,  and  emphatic,  and  gave  one, 
as  yet,  more  the  idea  of  profound,  earaest,  and  devout 
thinking,  than  of  simple  and  fervent  petitioning."  But  it 
is  impossible  to  point  to  any  portion  of  his  life  as  that 
in  which  the  spiritual  touch  was  given  which  vivified 
all.  His  behaviour  was  at  all  times  blameless,  but  never 
ascetical.  "  He  associated  with,  and  lived  in  the  world, 
■svithout  restraint,  joining  the  forms  and  fashions  of 
mixed  society,"  says  an  anonymous  writer,  supposed  to 
be  Allan  Cunningham,  wdio  afterwards  acknowledges, 
Avith  an  apologetic  touch  of  horror,  that  his  social  habits 
Avent  almost  the  length  of  vulgarity,  since  he  was  once 
in  the  habit  of  smoking  Avhen  in  the  company  of  smokers  ! 


HIS   HADDINGTON    PUPIL.  85 

But  this  seems  the  hardest  thing  that  anyone  has  to  say 
against  him. 

While  in  Edinburgh,  and  entering  into  all  the  modest 
pleasures  of  the  httle  intellectual  society  above  de- 
scribed, Irving  met  once  more  the  httle  pupil  Avhose 
precocious  studies  he  had  superintended  at  Haddington. 
He  found  her  a  beautiful  and  vivacious  gM,  with  an 
affectionate  recollection  of  her  old  master ;  and  the 
young  man  found  a  natural  charm  in  her  society.  I 
record  this  only  for  a  most  characteristic,  momentary 
appearance  which  he  makes  in  the  memory  of  his 
pupil.  It  happened  that  he,  with  natural  generosity, 
introduced  some  of  his  friends  to  the  same  hospitable 
house.  But  the  generosity  of  the  most  hberal  stops 
somewhere.  When  Irving  heard  the  praises  of  one  of 
those  same  friends  falling  too  warmly  from  the  young- 
lady's  hps,  he  coidd  not  conceal  a  httle  pique  and  mor- 
tification, which  escaped  m  spite  of  him.  Wlien  this 
httle  ebulhtion  was  over,  the  fah^  culprit  turned  to  leave 
the  room  ;  but  had  scarcely  passed  the  door  when 
Irving  hurried  after  her,  and  called,  entreating  her  to 
return  for  a  moment.  Wlien  she  came  back,  she  found 
the  simple-hearted  giant  standing  penitent  to  make  his 
confession,  "  The  truth  is  I  was  piqued,"  said  Irving  ; 
"  I  have  always  been  accustomed  to  fancy  that  /  stood 
liighest  m  your  good  opinion,  and  I  was  jealous  to  hear 
you  praise  another  man.  I  am  sorry  for  what  I  said 
just  now — that  is  the  truth  of  it ;" — and  so,  not  pleased, 
but  penitent  and  candid,  let  her  go.  It  is  a  fair  repre- 
sentation of  his  prevailing  characteristic.  He  could  no 
more  have  retained  what  he  felt  to  be  a  meanness  on 


8G  C.^'DOUR   AND    rUUXAClTY. 

liisiiiiiul  iinconfcssod,  tliaii  lie  could  luivc  persevered  in 
the  wrouLj. 

Willi  this  hmnilitv,  howevrr,  was  conjoined,  in  the 
most  natural  and  genial  union,  all  that  old  })ugnacity 
which  had  distinguished  hiiu  in  lornier  times.  Pre- 
tension excited  his  Avrath  wherever  he  saw  it ;  and 
perhai)s  lie  was  not  so  long-suffering  as  his  gigantic 
uncle.  A  stoiy  of  a  similar  description  to  some  already 
quoted  belongs  to  this  period  of  his  life.  He  had 
undertaken  to  escort  some  ladies  to  a  })ublic  meeting, 
where  it  was  necessary  to  be  in  early  attendance  at  the 
door  to  obtain  a  place.  Irving  had  taken  up  a  position 
on  the  entrance  steps  with  liis  charges  under  his  wing, 
when  an  official  personage  came  pushing  his  way 
tlirougli  the  crowd,  and  ordering  the  people  to  stand 
back.  \\nK'n  no  attention  Avas  paid  to  him  this  autho- 
ritative person  put  out  his  hand  to  thrust  the  Hercules 
beside  him  out  of  his  way.  Irving  raised  in  his  hand 
the  great  stick  he  carried,  and  turned  to  the  intruder : 
"Be  quiet,  sir,  or  I  will  annihilate  you!"  said  the  mighty 
probationer.  The  composure  with  Avhich  this  truculent 
sentence  was  delivered  drew  a  burst  of  laughter  from 
tlie  crowd,  which  completed  the  discomfiture  of  the 
unfortunate  functionary. 

Thus  the  session  —  the  few  busy  months  of  university 
labours — the  long  year  of  expectation  and  hope,  passed 
over  amid  many  occupations  and  solacements  of  friend- 
ship. But  when  the  door  was  closed  in  the  dun-coloured 
Bristo-street  room,  where  nothing  was  to  be  seen  from 
the  windows  but  a  dusty  street,  which  miglit  have 
flourished  in  any  vulgar  town  in  existence,  and  bore 
no  trace  of  those  enchantments  of  Edinljurgh  windows, 


CLOUDED    PROSPECTS.  87 

which  make  up  for  long  stairs  and  steep  ascents,  the 
young  man's  prospects  were  not  over-cheerfuL  He 
had  put  forth  all  his  powers  of  mind  and  warnmgs  of 
experience  upon  his  sermons,  but  the  result  had  not 
followed  his  expectation.  He  was  still,  after  a  year's 
interval,  the  same  unemployed  probationer  that  he  had 
left  Kirkcaldy;  liis  money  nearly  about  spent,  most 
likely,  and  his  cogitations  not  joyful.  What  he  was 
to  do  was  not  clearly  apparent.  That  he  was  not  to 
be  a  teacher  again  seems  distinct  enough  ;  but  whether 
he  was  ever  to  be  a  preacher  on  Scottish  soil  was  more 
than  uncertain.  When  he  had  shut  out  the  world  which 
would  not  have  him,  the  young  man  returned  into 
his  sohtude,  making  up  his  mind  with  a  grieved 
surprise,  wdiich  is  quite  touching  and  grand  in  its 
unthought-of  humihty,  that  this  gift  of  his,  after  all  his 
labours,  was  still  not  the  gift  which  was  to  prove  effectual 
in  liis  native  country.  He  loved  liis  country  witli  a 
Idnd  of  worship,  but  still,  if  she  would  not  have  him,  it 
was  needfLil  rather  to  carry  what  he  could  do  else- 
where, than  to  lie  idle,  making  no  use  of  those  faculties 
which  had  to  be  put  to  usury  accordmg  to  his  Master's 
commandment.  The  countryman  of  Mungo  Park  and 
schoolfellow  of  Hugh  Clapperton  bethought  himself — 
In  all  the  heathen  world  which  hems  Christendom  about 
on  every  side,  was  there  not  room  for  a  missionary  ac- 
cording to  the  apostohc  model, — a  man  without  scrip  or 
purse,  entering  in  to  whosoever  would  receive  him,  and 
passing  on  when  he  had  said  his  message  ?  A  missionary, 
A\dth  Exeter  Hall  expectant  behind  him,  and  a  due  tale 
of  conversions  to  render  year  after  year,  Ii^ving  never 
could  have  been;  but  in  his  despondency  and  discourage- 


ss  Tin:  Ai'ttsTOLic  missionary. 

inont  tlio  youtliful  tluniglil  wliirli  had  sl.irrcd  him  hiiig 
ago,  returned,  as  a  kind  of  conilbrt  and  liojK'ful  alterna- 
tive, to  liis  mind.  He  no  longer  east  stones  into  the  })ools, 
as  he  did  with  the  Haddington  sehool-boys,  but  he  set 
about  the  zealous  .study  of  languages,  in  order  to  <|ualily 
himself  for  the  kind  of  mission  he  purposed.  To  make 
his  way  through  the  continent,  a  rehgious  wanderer 
totally  unencumbered  with  worldly  provisions,  it  was 
neces.saiy  to  know  the  languages  of  the  countries 
which  he  had  to  cross ;  and  the  idea  refreshed  him  in 
the  tedium  of  his  long  probation.  When  the  arrival 
of  summer  dispersed  his  friends,  Irving  took  refuge 
among  his  books,  with  thoughts  of  this  knight-errantry 
and  chivalrous  enter]")rise  swelling  above  the  weariness 
of  sickened  hope.  It  was  not  the  modem  type  of 
missionaiy,  going,  laden  Avith  civilisation  and  a  printing 
press,  to  clear  his  little  garden  in  tlie  Aviiderness.  It 
was  the  red-cross  knight  in  that  annour  dinted  with  the 
impress  of  many  battle-fields  ;  it  was  the  apostolic  mes- 
senger, imdaunted  and  solitaiy,  bearing  from  place  to 
])lace  the  gospel  for  which  he  could  be  content  to  die. 
The  young  man  looked  abroad  on  this  prospect,  and  his 
heart  rose.  It  comforted  him  when  the  glow  of  summer 
found  him,  country  Ijred  and  countiy  loving  as  he  was, 
still  shut  up  in  the  shaljby  world  of  Bristo-street.  "  Ee- 
jected  by  the  living,"  he  is  recorded  to  have  said,  "  I 
conversed  with  the  dead."  Ilis  eyes  turned  to  the  east, 
as  was  natural  He  thought  of  Persia,  it  is  said,  where 
the  Malcolm.s,  his  countrj^nen,  from  the  same  vigorous 
soil  of  Annandale,  were  making  themselves  illustrious. 
And  with  grammars  and  alphabets,  with  map  and  his- 
tory-, with  the  silent  fathers  of  all  literature  standing  by. 


DOMESTIC    LETTERS.  89 

prepared  himself  for  this  old  world  demonstration  of  his 
allegiance  and  his  faith. 

Some  letters  which  have  lately  come  into  my  hands, 
and  of  the  existence  of  which  I  was  unaware  at  the 
time  the  above  pages  were  written,  lift  the  veil  from 
this  silent  period  of  his  hfe,  and  reveal,  if  not  much  of 
his  loftier  aspirations,  at  least  all  the  hopeful  uncer- 
tainty, the  suspense,  sometimes  the  depression,  always 
the  warm  activity  and  expectations,  naturally  belonging 
to  such  a  pause  in  the  young  man's  existence.  They 
are  all  addressed  to  the  Martin  family,  who  had  done 
so  much  to  brighten  his  life  in  Kirkcaldy ;  and  show 
how  his  style  in  letter-^vriting  begins  to  widen  out  of 
its  youthful  formahty  into  ease  and  characteristic 
utterance.  Ever  exuberant  m  his  expressions  of  obli- 
gation and  gratitude,  he  "wiites  to  the  kind  mother  of 
the  Kirkcaldy  manse  as  "  her  to  whom,  of  matrons,  I 
owe  the  most  after  her  who  gave  me  birth ; "  and 
warmly  acknowledges  that  "the  greater  part  of  that 
which  is  soothing  and  agreeable  in  the  experiences  of 
my  last  six  years  is  associated  with  your  hospitable 
house  and  dehghtful  family ; "  while,  amid  somewhat 
solemn  comphments  on  the  acquirements  of  that  family, 
their  former  teacher  joins  special  messages  "  to  Andrew, 
with  my  request  that  each  day  he  would  read,  as  regu- 
larly as  his  Bible,  some  portion  of  a  classical  and  of  a 
French  author ;  and  to  David,  that  he  would  not  forget 
the  many  wise  havers  he  and  I  have  had  together."  In 
another  letter  to  Mrs.  Martin,  the  young  man  begs  her 
acceptance,  with  many  deprecations  of  the  clumsy  pre- 
sent, of  a  hed^  which  he  describes  as  "  the  first  article 
of  furniture  of  whicli  I  was  possessed,"  confessing  that 


LX>  CAllLYLK. 

"  it  is  a  cunibroiis  and  inoloaant  iiu'inorial."  "But  let  mo 
dipiify  it  wliat  I  can,"  lie  adds  (juaintly,  "  by  the  fer- 
vent prayer  that  while  it  aj)])ertains  to  your  household 
it  may  always  support  a  healthful  body,  and  pillow  a 
somid  head,  and  shed  its  warmth  over  a  warm  ami 
honest  heart.  After  such  a  benediction  you  never  can 
be  unkind  enough  to  refuse  me."  To  Mr.  Martin, 
Irv'ing  writes  more  gravely  of  his  own  affairs,  discuss- 
ing at  length  some  projects  for  his  future  occupation, 
all  of  which  culminate  in  the  proposed  travels  on  which 
he  had  set  liis  heart,  and  which  were  to  be  commenced 
by  study  in  Gennany.  The  following  letter  opens  a 
gUmpse  into  that  youthful  world,  all  unaware  of  its  own 
future,  and  thinking  of  terminations  widely  different 
from  those  which  time  has  brought  about,  which  will 
show  how  another  career,  as  briUiant  and  longer  than 
Irving's,  took  its  beginmng  in  the  same  cloudy  regions 
of  uncertainty  and  unsuccess  : — 

"  Carlyle  goes  away  to-morrow,  and  Brown  the  next  day. 
So  here  I  am  once  more  on  my  own  resources,  except  DLxon, 
wlio  is  [better]  fitted  to  swell  the  enjoyment  of  a  joyous  than 
to  cheer  the  solitude  of  a  lonely  hour.  For  this  Carlyle  is 
better  fitted  than  any  one  I  know.  It  is  very  odd,  indeed, 
that  he  should  be  sent  for  want  of  employment  to  the  country; 
of  course,  like  every  man  of  talent,  he  has  gathered  around 
this  Patmos  many  a  splendid  purpose  to  be  fulfilled,  and 
much  improvement  to  be  wrought  out.  '  I  have  the  ends  of 
my  thoughts  to  bring  together,  which  no  one  can  do  in  this 
thoughtless  scene.  I  have  my  views  of  life  to  reform,  and 
the  whole  plan  of  rny  conduct  to  new-model ;  and  into  all  I 
have  my  health  to  recover.  And  then  once  more  I  shall 
venture  my  bark  upon  the  waters  of  this  wide  realm,  and  if 
she  cannot  weather  it,  I  shall  steer  west,  and  try  the  waters 
of  another  world.'     So  he  reasons  and  resolves  ;   but  surely  a 


HOPES   AND    FEARS.  91 

worthier  destiny  awaits  him  than  voluntary  exile.  And  for 
myself,  here  I  am  to  remain  until  further  orders  —  if  from 
the  east  I  am  ready,  if  from  the  west  I  am  ready,  and  if 
from  the  folk  of  Fife    I  am  not  the  less  ready.     I  do  not 

think  I  shall  go   for  the  few  weeks  with  Kinloch 

and  I  believe,  after  all,  they  are  rather  making  their 
use  of  me  than  anything  else,  but  I  know  not ;  and  it 
is  myself,  not  them,  I  have  to  fend  for,  both  temporally 
and  spiritually.  Grod  knows  how  ill  I  do  it;  but  per- 
haps in  His  grace  He  may  defend  me  till  the  arrival  of  a 
day  more  pregnant  to  me  with  hours  of  religious  improvement. 
"  I  had  much  more  to  say  of  the  religious  meetings  I  have 
been  attending,  and  of  the  Burgher  Synod,  and  of  purposes 
of  a  literary  kind  I  am  conceiving,  but  lo  !  I  am  at  an  end 
with  my  paper  and  time,  having  just  enough  of  both  to  com- 
mend me  to  the  love  of  your  household  and  to  the  fellowship 
of  your  prayers. 

"  Your  most  affectionate  friend, 

"  Edward  Irving." 

It  was  while  in  this  condition,  and  with  contending 
hopes  and  despairs  in  his  mind,  that  Irving  received  a 
sudden  invitation  fi'om  Dr.  Andrew  Thomson,  the 
minister  of  St.  George's,  to  preach  in  his  pulpit.  It 
would  be  inconsistent  mth  the  loved  principles  of 
Presbyterian  parity  to  distinguish  even  so  eminent  a 
man  as  Dr.  Andrew  Thomson  as  of  the  highest  clerical 
rank  in  Edinbingh  ;  but  he  reaUy  was  so,  in  as  far  as 
noble  talent,  a  brilliant  and  distinct  character,  and — not 
least  important — a  church  in  the  most  fashionable 
quarter,  coidd  make  him.  With  the  exception  of  Dr. 
Chalmers,  he  was  perhaps  the  first  man  of  his  gene- 
ration then  in  the  Chm^ch  of  Scotland ;  so  that  the 
invitation  itself  was  a  comphment  to  the  neglected 
probationer.  But  the  request  conveyed  also  an  intima- 
tion that  Dr.  Chahners  was  to  be  present,  and  that  he 


92  rUEACllES   IN   ST.    GEORGE'S.    i:i)INnUKGlI. 

^vas  tlion  in  searoli  of  an  assistant,  in  tlie  splendid  lal)o\n's 
lu'  was  beiiinninir  in  Glasgow.  Tliis  invitnlinii  umIuimIIv 
rlianijcd  tlio  cnrrcMit  ot"  IrxinLr's  tlu)ULi;lits.  ll  turni'd 
liini  back  fruni  his  plans  ui"  apostolical  wandering,  as 
well  as  from  the  anxious  efforts  of  his  friends  to  procure 
pujnls  who  might  advance  his  interests,  and  j^laced 
before  him  the  most  deskable  opening  to  his  real  pro- 
fession which  he  could  possibly  light  upon.  That  path 
which  should  lead  him  to  his  chosen  work,  at  home,  in 
the  country  of  his  kindred,  his  love,  and  his  early  affec- 
tions, was  dearer  to  him  than  even  that  austere  martyr- 
path  which  it  was  in  his  heart  to  follow  if  need  was. 
He  went  to  St.  George's  with  a  new  inipidse  of  expecta- 
tion, and  preached,  there  can  be  little  doubt,  that  one 
of  his  sermons  wliich  he  thought  most  satisfactory.  He 
describes  this  event  to  ]\Ir.  Martin  as  follows,  with  a 
frankness  of  youthful  |)leasure,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
little  transparent  assumption  of  indifference  as  to  the 
result,  in  a  letter  dated  the  2nd  August,  1819  : — 

"  T  preached  Sunday  week  in  St.  George's  before  Andrew 
Thomson  ,ind  Dr.  Chalmers,  with  general,  indeed,  so  far  as  I 
have  heard,  universal  approbation.  Andrew  said  for  certain 
'  It  was  the  f»roduction  of  no  ordinary  mind  ; '  and  how  Dr. 
Chalmers  expressed  his  approbation  I  do  not  know,  for  I 
never  put  myself  about  to  learn  these  things,  as  you  know. 
I  am  pleased  with  this,  perhaps  more  so  than  I  ought  to  be, 
if  I  were  as  spiritually-minded  as  I  should  be  —  but  there  is 
a  reason  for  it.  To  you  yet  behind  the  curtain,  la  voila! 
I  believe  it  was  a  sort  of  pious  and  charitable  plot  to  let  Dr. 
C.  hear  me  previous  to  his  making  inquiries  about  me  as  fit 
for  his  afislstant,  ^^'Tlethe^  he  is  making  them  now  he  lias 
heard  me,  and  where  he  is  making  them,  I  do  not  know. 
For  thoug?i  few  people  can  fight  the  battle  of  preferment 
without  pre-occupying  the  ground,  &c.,  I  would  wish  to  be  one 


SUSPENSE.  93 

of  that  few.  Full  well  I  know  it  is  impossible  without  His 
aid  who  has  planned  the  field  and  who  guides  the  weapons, 
more  unerringly  than  Homer's  Apollo,  and  inspirits  the  busy 
champions  ;  and  that  I  am  not  industrious  in  procuring.  Oh, 
do  you  and  all  who  wish  me  well,  give  me  the  only  favour  I 
ask, —  the  favour  of  your  prayers." 

The  important  moment,  however,  passed,  and  the 
young  man  returned  unsatisfied  to  his  lonely  apart- 
ments. He  waited  there  for  some  time  in  blank, 
discouraging  silence  ;  then  concluded  that  nothing  was 
to  come  of  it,  and  that  this  once  again  his  longing- 
hope  to  find  somebody  who  understood  him  and  saw 
what  he  aimed  at,  was  to  be  disappointed.  This  last 
failure  seems  to  have  given  the  intolerable  touch  to  all 
his  previous  discouragements.  He  got  up  disgusted 
from  that  dull  probation  which  showed  him  only  how 
effectually  all  the  gates  of  actual  life  and  labour  were 
barred  against  him.  Even  at  that  disconsolate  moment 
he  could  still  find  time  to  write  to  his  pupil  and  future 
sister-in-law  about  the  Itahan  dictionary  which  he  had 
undertaken  to  procure  for  her.  Then  he  packed  up 
his  books  and  boxes,  and  sent  them  off  to  his  father's 
house  m  Annan;  but,  probably  desirous  of  some 
interval  to  prepare  himself  for  that  farewell  which  he 
intended,  went  himself  to  Greenock,  meaning  to  travel 
from  thence  by  some  of  the  coasting  vessels  which 
called  at  the  little  ports  on  the  Ayrshire  and  Galloway 
coast.  Sick  at  heart,  and  buried  in  his  own  thoughts, 
he  took  the  ^vi'ong  boat,  and  was  obhged  to  come  ashore 
asain.  At  that  moment  another  steamer  was  in  all  the 
bustle  of  departure.  Struck  with  a  sudden  caprice, 
as  people  often  are  in  such  a  restless  condition  of  inind 


;)4  GOES    TO    IRELAND. 

niul    foolinii,   Irvini:    resolved,  in   liis   lialf  desperation 
and  inomentary  recklessness,  to  take  the  lirst  which  left 
the  quay,  and  leajiing  listlessly  into  this,  found  it  Irish, 
and  bound  for  Belfast.     The  voyage  was  acconi[)lished 
in  safety,  but  not  without  an  adventure  at    the  end. 
Some  notable  crime   had  been  perpetrated  in  Ireland 
about  that  time,  the  doer   of  wliich  Avas  still  at  large, 
filling  the   minds  of  tlie  people   with  tlreanis  of  cap- 
ture,   and  suspicions   of  eveiy   stranger.     Of  all  the 
strangers  entering  that  port  of  Belfast,  perha])s  tliere 
was  no  one  so  remarkable  as  this  tall  Scotchman,  with 
his  knapsack  and  slender  belongings,  his  extraordinary 
powerful   frame,  and  his  total  ignorance  of  the  place, 
who  was  travelhng  without  any  feasil:)le  motive  or  ob- 
ject.    The  excited  authorities  found  the  circumstances 
so  remarkable,  that  they  laid  suspicious  hands  upon  the 
smgular    stranger,   who    was    only  freed   from   their 
surveillance  by  applying  to  the  Presbyterian  minister, 
the  Eev.  Mr.  Hanna,  who  liberated  his  captive  brother 
and  took  him  home  with  Irish  frankness.    That  visit 
was  a  jubilee  for  the   children  of  the  house.     Black 
melancholy  and  disgust  had  fled  before  the  breezes  at 
sea,  and    the    amusing   but  embarrassing  contretemps 
on  land  ;  and  Indng's  heart,  always  open  to  children, 
expanded  at  once  for  the  amusement  of  the  children  of 
that   house.     One  of  those  boys   was   the   Eev.   Dr. 
Ilarma  of  Edinburgh,  the  biographer,  and  son-in-law  of 
Chalmers,  wdio,  at  the  distance  of  so  many  years,  re- 
members the  stories  of  the    stranger   thus   suddenly 
brought  to  the  fireside,  and  his  genial,  cordial  presence 
which  charmed  the  house. 

After  this  the  young  man  wandered  over  the  north  of 


WANDERINGS.  95 

Ireland,  as  he  had  often  wandered  over  the  congenial 
districts  of  his  own  country,  for  some  weeks  ;  pursuing 
the  system  he  had  learned  to  adopt  at  home, — walking 
as  the  crow  flies,  finding  lodging  and  shelter  in  the 
wayside  cottages,  sharing  the  potato  and  the  milk 
which  formed  the  peasant's  meal,  A  singular  journey ; 
performed  in  primitive  hardship,  fatigue,  and  brotherly 
kindness  ;  out  of  the  reach  of  civilised  persons  or  con- 
ventional necessities  ;  undertaken  out  of  pure  caprice, 
the  evident  sudden  impulse  of  letting  things  go  as  they 
would ;  and  persevered  in  with  something  of  the  same 
abandon  and  determined  abstraction  of  himself  from 
all  the  disgusts  and  disappointments  of  hfe.  Neither 
letters  nor  tokens  of  his  existence  seem  to  have  come 
out  of  this  temporary  flight  and  banishment.  He  had 
escaped  for  the  moment  from  those  momentous  ques- 
tions which  shortly  must  be  faced  and  resolved.  Pre- 
sently it  would  be  necessary  to  go  back,  to  make  the 
last  preparations,  to  take  the  decisive  steps,  and  say  the 
farewells.  He  fairly  ran  away  from  it  for  a  moment's 
breathing  time,  and  took  refuge  in  the  rude  unknown 
life  of  the  Irish  cabins  ; — a  thing  which  most  people  have 
somehow  done,  or  at  least  attempted  to  do,  at  tlie 
crisis  of  their  fives. 

When  he  re-emerged  out  of  this  refreshing  blank, 
and  came  to  the  common  world  again,  where  letters  and 
ordinary  appeals  of  life  were  awaitmg  him,  he  found  a 
bulky  enclosure  from  his  father,  in  the  Coleraine  post- 
office.  Gavin  Irving  wrote,  in  explanation  of  his  double 
letter  (for  postage  was  no  trifle  in  those  days),  that  he 
would  have  copied  the  enclosed  if  he  could  have  read 
it ;  but  not  being  able  to  make  out  a  word,  was  com- 


1XVITAT1(>\   TO   GLASGOW. 

jH'lk'd  Id  M-iul  11  en  lor  liis  son's  own  inspection.  Tliis 
enclosure  was  from  Dr.  Clialniers,  invitincj  Irvinuj  to 
go  to  Gln^LTow  ;  ]m\  tlio  (late  was  some  weeks  back, 
and  tlie  invitation  was  by  no  means  distinct  as  to  the 
object  for  wliicli  lie  was  wanted.  It  was  enough,  how- 
ever, to  stir  the  reviving  heart  of  the  young  giant,  wlioni 
his  fall,  and  contact  with  kindly  mother  earth,  had  re- 
fi'eshed  and  re-invi^oratcd.  lie  set  out  without  loss  of 
time  for  Glasgow,  but  only  to  lind  Dr.  Chalmers 
absent,  and  once  more  to  be  plunged  into  the  lingering 
pangs  of  suspense. 

\Miile  waiting  the  Doctor's  return,  Irving  again  re- 
ported himself  and  his  new  expectations  to  his  friends 
in  Kij'kcaldy. 

"  Glasgow,  1st  September,  1819. 

"  You  see  I  am  once  more  in  Scotland ;  and  how  I  came  to 
have  found  my  way  to  the  same  place  I  started  from,  you 
shall  now  learn.  On  Friday  last  arrived  at  Coleraine  a  letter 
from  Dr.  Chalmers,  pressing  me  to  meet  him  in  Edinburgh 
on  the  30th,  or  in  Gla.'^gow  the  31st  Aug.  8o  here  I  arrived, 
after  a  very  tempestuous  passage  in  the  Hob  Hoy ;  and  upon 
calling  on  the  Doctor,  I  find  lie  is  still  in  Anstruther,  at  which 
place  he  propo.ses  remaining  awhile  longer  than  he  antici- 
pated, and  requests  to  have  a  few  days  of  me  there.  »So, 
but  for  another  circumstance,  you  might  have  seen  me  post- 
ing through  Kirkcaldy  to  Anster,  the  famed  in  song.  That 
circumstance  is  Mrs.  Chalmers's  ill-health,  of  which  he  will 
be  more  particularly  informed  than  he  is  at  present  by  this 
post ;  and  then  Miss  Pratt  tells  me  there  is  no  doubt  he  will 
return  post-haste,  as  all  good  husbands  ought.  Here,  then,  I 
am,  a  very  sorry  sight,  I  can  assure  you.  You  may  remember 
how  di.sabled  in  my  rigging  I  was  in  the  Kingdom*;  conceive 

*  Tlie  Kingdom  of  File,  fondly  no  culJed  1  'y  its  alfectionate  popu- 
lation. 


INTEREST    IN    CHURCH   AFFAIRS.  97 

me,  then,  to  have  wandered  a  whole  fortnight  among  the  ragged 
sons  of  St.  Patrick,  to  have  scrambled  about  the  Giant's  Cause- 
way, and  crossed  the  Channel  twice,  and  sailed  in  fish-boats  and 
pleasure-boats,  and  driven  gigs  and  jaunting-cars,  and  never 
once  condescended  to  ask  the  aid  of  a  tailor's  needle.  Think 
of  this,  and  figure  what  I  must  be  now.  But  I  have  just 
been  ordering  a  refit  from  stem  to  stern,  and  shall  by  to- 
morrow be  able  to  appear  amongst  the  best  of  them ;  and 
you  know  the  Griasgow  bodies  ken  fu'  weel  it's  merely 
impossible  to  carry  about  with  ane  a'  the  comforts  of  the 
Sa't  Market  at  ane's  tail,  or  a'  the  comforts  of  Bond  Street 
either.  I  shall  certainly  now  remain  till  I  have  seen  and 
finally  determined  Avith  Dr.  Chalmers ;  for  my  time  is  so 
short  that  if  I  get  home  without  a  finale  of  one  kind  or 
other,  it  will  interfere  with  the  department  of  my  foreign 
affairs,  which  imperiously  call  for  attention." 

The  letter,  which  begins  thus,  is  filled  up,  to  the 
length  of  five  long  pages,  by  an  account  of  the  organisa- 
tion of  the  Synod  of  Ulster,  and  of  a  case  of  disciphne 
which  had  just  occurred  in  it,  on  which,  on  behalf  of 
a  friend  at  Coleraine,  the  traveller  was  anxious  to 
consult  the  experience  of  the  minister  of  Kirkcaldy. 
In  respect  to  his  own  prospects,  Irving's  suspense  was 
now  speedily  terminated.  Dr.  Chalmers  returned,  and  at 
once  proposed  to  him  to  become  his  assistant  in  St.  John's. 
The  solace  to  the  yoimg  man's  discouraged  mind  must 
have  been  unspeakable.  Here,  at  last,  was  one  man 
who  understood  the  unacceptable  probationer,  and  per- 
ceived in  him  that  faculty  which  he  himself  discerned 
dimly  and  still  hoped  in — troubled,  but  not  convinced 
by  the  general  disbelief  To  have  his  gift  recognised 
by  another  mind  was  new  life  to  Ii'\ang ;  and  such  a 
mind !  the  generous  inteUigence  of  the  first  of  Scotch 
preachers.     But  with  Presbyterian  scrupulosit}^,  in  the 

VOL.  I.  H 


y.s  DOUnTI-TL    OF    Ills    OWV    SUCCESS. 

uiidsl  of  liis  camTiioss,  TrviiiLT  Iiuiilt  l):ick  still,  lie 
coulil  not  submit  to  be  ''  iiitriulcd  uj)(>ii  "  the  people  by 
the  mere  ^vill  of  the  iiieiimbent,  ;uk1  would  not  iceeive 
even  that  LTateful  distinction,  if  he  contimu'd  as 
dist^i^teful  as  he  had  hitherto  found  himself.  He  was 
not  confident  of  his  prospects  even  when  backed  by 
the  j)owerful  encourajiement  of  Dr.  Chahners.  "  I  will 
preach  to  them  if  you  think  fit,"  he  is  reported  to  have 
siiid;  "•  but  if  they  bear  with  my  preaching,  they  will  be 
the  fii'st  people  who  have  borne  with  it!"  Tn  this 
s})irit,  with  the  unconscious  liumility  of  a  child,  soriy 
not  to  satisfy  liis  judges,  but  confessing  the  fEiiliu'c 
which  he  scarcely  could  understand,  he  preached  his 
first  sermon  to  the  fastidious  coufiireffation  in  St.  John's. 
Tliis  wa.s  in  October  1810.  "He  was  generall}'  Avell 
liked,  but  some  people  thought  him  rather  flowery. 
Ilowevcr,  they  were  satisfied  that  he  must  be  a  good 
preacJier,  smcc  Dr.  Chalmers  had  chosen  him,"  says  a 
contemporaiy  witness.  It  was  thus  with  litth^  confidence 
on  his  own  part,  and  somewhat  careless  indulgence  on 
tlie  part  of  the  people,  who  were  already  in  possession  of 
the  highest  preaching  of  the  time,  that  Irving  opened  his 
mouth  at  last,  and  bcL^an  his  natural  career. 


99 


CHAPTER  VI. 


GLASGOW. 


It  was  in  October  1819,  that  Irving;  bef>:an  his  work  in 
Glasgow — the  first  real  work  in  his  own  profession 
which  had  opened  to  him.  He  was  then  in  the  fnll 
strength  of  early  manhood,  seven-and-twenty,  the 
"  Scottish  uncelebrated  Irving,"  whom  his  great  country- 
man regretfully  commemorates.  His  remarkable  ap- 
pearance seems,  in  the  first  place,  to  have  impressed 
everybody.  A  lady,  who  was  then  a  member  of  Dr. 
Chalmers's  church,  and  who  had  access  to  the  imme- 
diate circle  surrounding  him,  tells  how  she  herself,  on 
one  occasion,  being  particularly  engaged  in  some  do- 
mestic duties,  had  given  orders  to  her  servants  not  to 
admit  any  visitors.  She  was  interrupted  in  her  occupa- 
tion, however,  notwithstanding  this  order,  by  the  en- 
trance of  one  of  her  maids,  in  a  state  of  high  excite- 
ment and  curiosity.  "  Mem ! "  burst  forth  the  girl, 
"  there 's  a  wonderful  grand  gentleman  called  ;  I  couldna 
say  you  were  engaged  to  him.  I  think  he  maun  be  a 
Highland  Cliief!"  —  "-That  Mr.  Irving!"  exclaimed 
another  individual  of  less  elevated  and  poetical  concep- 
tions— "  That  Dr.  Chalmers's  helper  !  I  took  him  for  a 
cavalry  officer ! "  "  Do  you  know,  Doctor,"  said  a  third, 
addressing  Chalmers  himself,  "  what  things  people  are 

H    2 


100  IM;.    CIIALMKKSS    IlKl.l'I'K. 

saying  about  your  now  a.^sistantH  Tlioy  say  ho  's  liko  a. 
brigand  ohiof."  "  Woll,  woll,"  said  Dr.  Chalniors,  willi  a 
smile, ''wliatover  ihoy  say,tlioy  novor  tliink  liiiii  liko  any- 
thing but  a  loader  of  nion."  Suoh  was  tho  impression  he 
produood  upon  tho  little  mercantile-ecelesiastieal  world 
of  Ghii^gow.  There,  a.s  cverywhcio,  pfo[)le  wore  instinct- 
ively suspicious  of  this  strange  unconventional  figure  — 
did  wot  know  what  to  make  of  tho  natural  grand(>ur  about 
him — tho  lofty  fashion  of  speech  into  which  he  had  al- 
ready fallen,  and  which  seems  to  have  been  entirely  appro- 
jiriate  to  the  garb  and  aspect  in  which  nature  had  clothed 
him.  But  he  found  warm  friends  here,  as  everywhere, 
and  by  means  of  all  hi-  (qualities,  mental  and  bodily, 
his  frankness  and  warmth,  and  haliit  of  making  himself 
tho  iriond  of  the  humblest  individual  he  encountered,  his 
splendid  person  and  stately  manners,  took  the  hearts  of 
the  poor  by  stonn.  They  are  now^  <^lying  out  of  those 
closes  and  ^V3^lds  of  Glasgow,  who  remember  Irving  as 
Dr.  Chalmers's  helper  ;  but  there  still  lingers  here  and 
there  a  recollection  of  that  kindliest  genial  visitor. 
Chalmers  himself,  thou<_di  a  man  of  the  warmest  hu- 
inanity,  had  at  all  times  a  certain  abstract  intentness 
about  him,  which  inust  have  altered  tlie  character  of 
individual  kindness  as  coming  from  his  hands.  His 
parishioners  were  to  him  emphatically  his  )>arishioneis, 
the  "  body "  (not  vile,  perhaps ;  but  still  more  pro- 
foundly important  for  the  experiment's  sake  thnn  for 
its  own)  upon  wliich  one  of  the  most  magnificent  of 
experiments  was  to  be  tried.  But  to  Irving  they  were 
the  Johns  and  Sandys,  the  Cainj)l)o]ls  and  Macalisters, 
—  the  liunian  neighbours  wlio  were  of  his  personal 
aaiuiiintance   and  in(.lividually  interesting   t(j  himself 


CONDITION   OF   GLASGOAV.  101 

Such  a  distinction  makes  itself  known  involuntarily. 
The  position  he  held  was  one  completely  secondary 
and  auxiliary,  not  even  answering  to  that  of  a  curate ; 
for  he  was  still  only  a  probationer,  unordained, 
without  any  rights  in  the  Church  except  the  Ucense  to 
preach,  which  was  his  sole  qualification.  He  was  not 
responsible  for  any  part  of  the  working  of  tliat  huge 
machinery  which  Dr.  Chalmers  bore  up  on  his  Hercu- 
lean shoulders,  and  which  naturally  collapsed  when  his 
mighty  vital  force  was  withdrawn.  The  "  helper  "  went 
about  more  hghtly,  unburdened  by  social  economy ; 
and  gained  for  himself  among  the  poor  people  whom  it 
was  his  daily  work  to  visit,  the  place  of  an  undoubted 
and  much-prized  friend. 

Glasgow  was  at  this  period  in  a  very  disturbed  and 
troublous  condition.     Want  of  work  and  want  of  food 
had  wrought  their  natural  social  effect  upon  the  indus- 
trious classes  ;  and  the  eyes  of  the  hungry  weavers  and 
cotton-spinners  were   turned  with  spasmodic    anxiety 
to  those  wild  political  quack  remedies,  the  inefficacy  of 
which    no    amount    of    experience    will    ever   make 
clear  to  people  in  similar  circumstances.     The  entire 
country  was  in  a  dangerous  mood  ;  palpitating  through- 
out with  deep-seated  complaint  and  grievance,  to  which 
the  starving  revolutionaries  in  such  towns  as  Glasgow 
acted  only  as  a  kind  of  safety-valve,  preventing  a  worse 
explosion.     The  discontent  was  drawing  towards  its 
chmax    when    Irving    received    his    appointment    as 
assistant  to  the  minister  of  St.  John's.      In  such  a  large 
poor   parish  he  encountered  on  aU  sides  the  mutter- 
ings  of  the  popular  storm.     Chalmers,  always  hberal 
and  statesmanlike,  saw  the  real  grievance,  which  finally 


102  IKVIM.  S    I'OLITRAL    SKNTIMEXTS. 

labouivd  and  struir^lod,  tbrouLdi   tlic  ccwtcst  of  years, 
into   tliat    full    ivdivss   ami   (.'stahlislnnent    ol"   i)()i)u1ar 
riglit^,  wliidi  seems  lo  makr  any  such  crisis  impossible 
now.     But  Irvinix's  mind  was   of  a  dillerent  construe- 
tion.     He  was  one  of  those  men  of  inconsistent  pohtics, 
governed  at  once  by  ]irojudices  and  synijiathies,  Avhose 
"  attitude  "  it  is  impossible  to  foretell ;  and  of  whom  one 
can  only  predict  thai   lluii-  ])olitical  opinions  will   take 
the  colour  given  by  their  hr;irt  ;  mid  that  the  side  most 
strongly  and  feelingly  set  forth  before  them  Avill  un- 
doubtedly carr)^  the  day.     His  nature  was  profoundly 
conservative ;    and  yet  the  boldest  innovation  might 
liave  secured  his  devoted  support,  had  it  approved  itself 
to  liis  individuid  thoughts.    His  pohtical  opinions, indeed, 
seem  to  have  been  such  as  are  common  to  hterary  men, 
artists,  and  women,  entirely  unconnected  with  politics, 
and  who  only  now  and  then  find  themselves  sufficiently 
interested  t(3  inform  themselves  upon  public  matters. 
Accordingly,  he  appears  in  after-life  in  strong  opposi- 
tion to    eveiy  measure   known   as   liberal;    Avhile  in 
Glasgow,  witli  those  poor  revolutionary  weavers  round 
him  on  eveiy  side,  his  heart  convincing  him  of  their 
mlsenes  and  despair,  and  his  profound   trust,   not  in 
human  nature,  but  in  the  human  creatures  known  to 
himself,  persuading  him  that  no  harm  could  come  from 
their   hands,   he   stands   perfectly    calm  and   friendly 
amid  the  panic,  disdaining  to  fear.     That  the  crisis  was 
an  alarming  one  everybody  allows.     Notliing  less  than 
the  horrors  of  the  French  revolution — battle  and  mur- 
der and  sudden  death — floated  before  the  terror-stricken 
eyes  of  all  who  had  anything  to  lose.      Whig  Jeffrey,  a 
non-alarmist  and  (in  moderation)  friend  of  the  people. 


STATE  OF  THE  COUNTRY  IN  GENERAL.      103 

declares,  solemnly,  that  "  If  the  complamts  of  the  peo- 
ple are  repressed  with  insults  and  menaces  —  if  no  step 
is  taken  to  reUeve  their  distresses  and  redress  their  real 
and  undeniable  grievances  —  if  the  whole  mass  of  their 
complaints,  reasonable  and  unreasonable,  are  to  be 
treated  as  seditious  and  audacious,  and  to  meet  with 
no  other  answer  than  preparations  to  put  them  down 
by  force,  then  indeed  we  may  soon  have  a  civil  war 
among  us  —  and  a  civil  war  of  a  character  far  more 
deplorable  and  atrocious  than  was  ever  known  in  this 
land  —  a  war  of  the  rich  against  the  poor  ;  of  the 
Government  against  the  body  of  the  people  ;  of  the 
soldiery  against  the  great  bulk  of  the  labouring  classes  ; 
—  a  war  which  can  never  be  followed  by  any  cordial  or 
secm^e  peace ;  and  which  must  end,  or  rather  begin, 
with  the  final  and  complete  subversion  of  those  hberties 
and  that  constitution  which  has  hitherto  been  our 
pride,  our  treasure,  and  om'  support  and  consolation 
under  all  other  calamities." 

It  was  a  conjunction  of  many  troubles :  foremost 
among  which  was  that  sharp  touch  of  starvation, 
which  makes  men  desperate  ;  that  Want — most  per- 
tinacious and  maddest  of  aU  revolutionaries,  who 
never  fails  to  revenge  bitterly  the  carelessness  which 
lets  him  enter  our  Avell-defended  doors, — he  was  there, 
wolfish  and  seditious,  in  Glasgow  in  the  winter  of 
]  819,  plotting  pikes  and  risings,  with  wild  dreams  of 
that  legislation  never  yet  found  out,  which  is  to  make  a 
paradise  of  earth  ;  dreams  and  plots  which  were  to 
blurt  out,  so  far  as  Scotland  was  concerned,  in  the  dis- 
mal little  tragi-comedy  of  Bonnymuii^  some  months 
later ;  and  there  be  made  a  melancholy  end  of     But 


104  IKVINOS    COMMDKNCK    IN     IMIH    RADICALS. 

wliilo  ovorybddy  else  was  propliesyiiiuj  horrors,  it  is  tluis 
that  L-viii^ir,  with  (nuliT  domestic  pivlaccs  of  kindness 
and  congratulation,  writes  to  his  brother-in-law,  Mr. 
Fergusson,  a  few  months  after  his  arrival  in  Glasgow. 
The  immediate  object  of  the  IcKei-  is  to  congratulate 
his  sister  and  her  husband  on  (he  birlli  of  their  first- 
born. Heferring  to  this  event  in  the  first  place,  he 
says : — 

"  You  have  now  consigned  to  your  care  a  more  valuahlo 
article  than  the  greatest  Emperor,  who  is  not  a  fiither,  can 
lKia.st  of, — the  care  of  an  immortal  wlio  shall  survive  wlien  this 
earth  sliall  have  removed  without  leaving  a  memorial,  save  in 
the  memories  of  those  spirits  to  whom  it  has  heen  the  train- 
ing-place for  heaven  or  hell.  How  much  the  difference  is 
hetween  the  real  value,  so  much  the  difference  in  general  is 
between  the  reputed  value;  ])ut,  as  the  mathematicians  say, 
it  is  in  the  inverse  way.  But  of  you  I  know  and  hope  better, 
that  you  will  account  of  him  while  you  are  spared  together 
as  a  precious  deposit  the  Almighty  has  thought  you  worthy 
of 

"  You  will  look  for  Glasgow  intelligence,  and  truly  I  can 
neither  get  nor  give  any.  If  T  sliould  report  from  my  daily 
ministrations  among  the  poorest  class  and  the  worst  reported- 
of  class  of  our  population,  I  should  deliver  an  opinion  so 
favourable  as  it  would  he  hardly  safe  for  myself  to  deliver, 
lest  I  should  be  held  a  radical  like^vise.  Now  the  truth  is,  I 
have  visited  in  about  three  hundred  families,  and  have  met 
with  the  kindest  welcome  and  entertainment  and  invitations. 
Nay,  more,  I  have  entered  on  the  tender  subject  of  their 
present  sufferings,  in  which  they  are  held  so  ferocious,  and 
have  fovmd  them  in  general  both  able  and  willing  to  entertain 
the  religious  lesson  and  improvement  arising  out  of  it.  This 
may  arise  from  the  way  of  setting  it  forth,  which  I  endeavour 
to  make  with  the  utmost  tenderness  and  feeling,  as  well  is 
due  when  you  see  people  in  the  midst  of  nakedness  and 
starvation.  Yet  we  are  armed  against  them  to  the  teeth ; 
and  the  alarm  took  so  generally  that,  for  all  my  convictions 


THE    CALTON    WEAVERS.  105 

and  knowledge,  I  had  engaged  a  horse-pistol  to  stand  out  in 
defence  of  my  own  castle  like  a  true  Englishman !  But  the 
storm  seems  over-driven,  although  this  morning,  even,  there 
was  a  summons  to  the  sharp-shooters  by  break  of  day,  and  all 
the  soldiers  to  arms  in  the  barracks.  Nobody  knows  a  whit, 
and  everybody  fears  a  deal.  The  common  ignorance  is  only 
surpassed  by  the  common  alarm,  and  that  you  know  is  the 
most  agitating  of  all  alarms.  But  from  Monday  to  Saturday 
I  am  going  amongst  them  without  the  slightest  apprehension; 
but  perhaps  I  may  be  convinced  by  point  of  pike  some  day, 
which  I  pray  may  be  averted  for  his  sake  that  should  hold  it. 
This  is  not  braggadocio,  but  Christian  (feeling) ;  for  the  blood 
of  the  innocent  always  stains  most  deeply  the  hand  that  sheds 

it I  hope  my  father  and  you  won't  forget  your 

Grlasgow  jaunt.  I  will  introduce  you  to  some  of  our  Calton 
weavers,  now  so  dreaded,  whom  Jeffrey  the  reviewer  calls  the 
finest  specimens  of  the  human  intellect  he  has  met  with  .... 
I  commend  to  your  affection  my  dear  mother,  from  whom  I 
have  had  a  most  affectionate  letter ;  and  George,  who  will 
prove  a  credit,  I  trust,  to  such  two  gifted  masters  as  yourself 

and  your  humble  servant To  all  others,  my  good 

and  kind  friends,  commend  your  affectionate  brother, 

"  Edwakd  iRVINa." 

It  was  thus  that  Irving  judged  of  the  dangerous 
masses,  who  seemed  to  other  eyes  so  ripe  for  mischief ; 
and  it  is  characteristic  to  observe  the  dilTerence  between 
the  manner  in  which  this  opinion  is  expressed,  and  Dr. 
Chalmers's  dehverance  on  the  same  subject,  contained  in 
his  letters  to  Wilberforce.  There  the  clear-sighted 
Scotch  legislator,  whom  his  profession  bounded  to  a 
parish,  makes  a  stride  of  twenty  years  to  the  conclusions 
of  another  generation,  and  lays  his  hand  broadly  upon 
that  principle  which  has  now  been  received  among  the 
standard  principles  of  English  government.  "  From  my 
extensive  minglings  with  the  people,"  says  Dr.  Chalmers, 
"  I  am  quite  confident  in  affirming  the  power  of  another 


106  (llAl.Mr.US    AND    lKVIN(i. 

t'XiHHlioiit  (tlial  is  besides  llie  rcpcnl  ofeortain  .speci- 
fied tiixes)  to  be  sueli,  tluit  it  woiilil  operate  witli  all 
the  quickness  and  effect  of  a  cliann  in  lullinij:  tlieir 
agitated  spirits  :  I  mean  llir  rcpi'al  of  tlie  Corn  ]5ill.  I 
have  I'ver  l)een  in  llie  habit  ol'thsliking  the  interfei'ence 
of  tlic  legislature  in  matters  of  trade,  saving  for  the 
purpose  of  a  revenue."  Irving  lias  no  tlieorics  of  cure 
on  liand.  His  thoughts  do  not  embrace  the  ]K)lity 
of  nations.  lie  has  not  contemplated  that  troubled 
sea  to  divine  what  secret  ciuTcnt  it  is  which  heaves  its 
billows  into  storm.  He  goes  down  among  the  crowds 
wliich  are  made  of  flesh  and  blood  ;  he  stands  among 
them  and  calls  out  with  courageous,  tender  voice  that 
they  are  all  men  hke  others  ;  men  trustful  and  coi^dial ; 
kind  U)  himself,  open  to  kindness  ;  whom  it  behoves 
their  neighbour's  to  treat,  not  with  the  cruelty  of  fear, 
but,  "  ^vith  tenderness  and  feeling,  as  well  is  due"  he 
adds  witii  manly  and  touching  simpHcity,  "  wheji  you 
see  people  in  the  midst  of  nakedness  and  starvation."  A 
gi'eater  contrast  in  agreement  could  scarcely  be. 

A  similar  testimony  to  thtit  wliich  I  have  already 
quoted,  and  evidence  of  the  position  he  took  in  his 
Glfisgow  labours,  is  conveyed  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Martin, 
written  upon  occasion  of  tlie  death  of  a  relative,  in 
which  after  some  tlioughtful  regrets  that  men  take  so 
little  pains  to  "  perpetuate  for  themselves  "  ties  "  which 
give  so  much  enjoyment  here,  and  whicli,  judging  from 
the  fjroportion  of  things,  must  give  infinitely  more 
hereafter,"  he  thus  conveys  his  impressions  of  his  new 
sjjhere  in  the  hght  most  interesting  to  his  friend  : — 

"It  gave  me  singular  pleasure  tfie  other  uiglit  to  liear  a 
young   man,  Mr.  Heggie,  from  Kirkcaldy  (foot  of  Tolbootli 


INCESSANT   LABOURS.  107 

Wynd),  who  has  been  of  singular  utility  in  this  city,  reclaim- 
ing by  Sabbath-school  operations  the  forlorn  hope  of  the 
Salt  Market  andBriggate — to  hear  him  date  his  first  impres- 
sions of  serious  religion  from  the  conversations  he  held  with 
you  before  his  first  communion.  This  should  encourage  your 
heart,  for  he  is,  as  it  were,  the  nucleus  of  an  establishment 
including  not  less  than  700  children ;  and  he  is  giving  them 
spirit  and  example  in  truly  a  Christian  style.  Thus  the  Lord 
has  made  you  in  your  parlour  instrumental  in  penetrating  and 
pervading  the  noisome  recesses  of  this  overgrown  city.  For 
all  the  impressions  which  are  abroad  I  entertain  the  best 
opinion  of  our  people ;  and  I  consider  the  leading  ones  most 
grossly  misinformed,  if  not  misguided  by  design.  Dr. 
Chalmers's  plan  is  to  take  up  his  district  of  the  parish  by 
groups.  I  have  superadded  the  taking  of  them  up  family  by 
family ;  so  that  every  mortal  comes  in  review  before  me,  and 
into  contact  with  me  upon  a  subject  on  which  they  are 
spoken  of  as  being  held  by  no  bounds.  Yet  so  it  is  —  I  have 
hardly  encountered  anything  but  the  finest  play  of  welcome 
and  congeniality ;  and  this  very  half  hour  have  I  returned 
from  so  pervading  twenty  families  in  our  sorest  district,  and 
have  been  hailed  as  the  bearer  of  good   tidings,  though  I 

carried  nothing  with  me  but  spiritual  offers I  am 

making  the  best  of  St.  John's  I  can,  though  I  have  been  of 
late  hardly  doing  myself  justice,  being  generally  compressed 
to  Saturday  for  pulpit  preparations  by  the  week-day  occupa- 
tions of  visiting,  &c.  —  yet  I  think  it  is  well  emj)loyed." 

This  Glasgow  parish  had  come  to  singular  fortune  at 
that  moment.  After  much  labour  and  many  exertions, 
Chalmers,  already  the  greatest  preacher  and  most 
eminent  man  in  the  entire  Scotch  establishment,  had 
got  himself  translated  from  the  Tron  Church,  which 
was  his  first  charge  in  Glasgow — solely  in  order  to  carry 
out  those  social  plans  which  are  the  greatest  distinctive 
feature  of  his  life  —  to  St.  John's.  His  theory  is  well 
known ;  but  as  theories  which  are  weU  known  are  apt 


108  TIIK    TAUISII    Ol'    ST.  JOIIX. 

enoiigli  to  glide  into  vjiljuoiu'ss  iVoin  tliat  veiy  reason, 
it  may  not  be  amiss  to  repeat,  in  tlie  simplest  mannei', 
wliat  it  was.  The  truth  was  sim])ly  that  he  had  been  born, 
like  other  men  of  his  generation,  into  a  primitive  Scot- 
land, comparatively  little  allected  by  English  usages 
and  mamicrs  —  a  self-supporting,  independent  nation, 
ignorant  of  ]ioor-la\vs  and  workhouses,  and  full  of 
strenuous  hatred  to  all  such  liatefid  charities.  During 
all  the  centuries  of  Presbyterianism,  "  the  plate,"  or 
weekly  ofiering  made  at  the  door  of  the  church  on 
entering,  had  furnished  the  parochial  revenue  of  charity ; 
and  upon  this  national  and  universal  provision  for  the 
poor  the  statesman  eye  of  Chahners  fixed  ^vith  charac- 
teristic intentness.  Like  other  men  of  the  greatest 
type,  he  was  unable  to  believe  that  what  he  might  do 
was  yet  impossible  to  others.  Resolute  to  show  all 
Scotland  and  the  world  that  the  Church's  ancient 
primitive  provision  could  yet  meet  all  increased  modern 
emergencies,  and  able  from  his  high  position  and  in- 
iluence  to  bring,  half  by  coercion  of  moral  force,  half 
by  persuasion,  the  Glasgow  magistrates  to  accept  his 
terms,  he  made  it  a  condition  of  his  remaining  among 
them  that  this  parish  of  St.  John's,  one  of  the  largest, 
poorest,  and  most  degraded  in  the  town,  shcjuld  be 
handed  over  to  him  in  undisturbed  possession,  swept 
clean  of  all  poor-rates,  workhouses,  and  pubUc  parish 
aid.  He  did  not  demand  the  criminal  supervision  and 
power  of  the  sword  certainly  ;  though  at  this  distance 
of  time,  and  to  English  readers,  the  one  might  seem 
almost  as  reasonable  as  the  other ;  but  he  secured  his 
terms  with  the  puzzled  civic  functionaries,  who  half  be- 
heved  in  him.    In  this  parish  Chalmers  set  up  the  most 


ITS   AUTOCRAT.  109 

surprising,  splendid  autocracy  that  has  ever  been  at- 
tempted— an  autocracy  solely  directed  to  the  benefit  of 
that  httle  world  of  people  in  the  most  unlovely  portion 
of  Glasf?ow.  He  was  no  sooner  established  in  his  new 
dominion  than  he  issued  imperial  orders  for  a  census,  and 
made  one  in  true  royal  fashion.  There  were  10,304  souls. 
The  condition  in  life  of  most  among  them  was  that 
of  weavers,  labourers,  and  factory- w^orkers.  About  one 
family  in  thirty-three  kept  a  servant,  and  in  some  parts 
of  the  district  this  point  of  domestic  luxury  was  even 
more  rare.  Bad  times,  foilure  of  work,  and  all  the 
casualties  of  accident  and  disease  would,  according  to 
ordinary  calculations,  leave  a  large  margin  of  inevitable 
pauperism  in  such  a  district.  But  the  mmister-autocrat 
had  sworn  that  pauperism  was  to  be  no  longer,  and  he 
made  good  his  word.  F(^r  three  brilliant  vears  '  the 
plate  '  not  only  supphed  all  the  wants  of  the  poor  in 
the  parish,  but  did  large  service  besides  in  the  erection 
of  schools  ;  and  for  thirteen  years,  as  long  as  the 
machinery  originated  by  the  wonderftil  imperious 
vitaHty  of  this  great  man  could  go  on  without  a  new 
impulse,  its  success  continued  as  perfect  as  it  was  ex- 
traordinary. This  seems  to  me  the  highest  and  most 
wonderful  victory  of  Chalmers's  life.  It  is  unique  in 
modern  annals  —  a  bold  return,  out  of  the  heart  of  all 
those  evils  of  extreme  civihsation  which  crush  the 
poor,  into  that  primitive  hfe  when  neighbour  helped 
neighbour  and  friend  stood  by  friend.  What  an  ideal 
despot,  grand  patriot  autocrat,  or  irresponsible  vizier, 
that  Scotch  minister  would  have  made  ! 

In  this  system  of  things,  Irving  took  his  place  in 
perfect   accord,  but  not  rcfccmblance.     Statesmanship 


no  THE   SIIOKMAKKII. 

was  not  in  liini  ;  hnt  admirnlion  and  loyal  scM'vico  wcm'i- 
of  liis  very  csslmico.  Withonl  any  nil*  rioi'  vit'ws,  lie 
visited  tlioso  "  tlirce  hundrod  ianiiiics," — won  their  con- 
lidenee  and  iViendsJiip,  in  most  cases  readily  enough  ; 
and  wlien  tliat  was  not  tlie  case,  took  tliem  captive  by 
innocent  wiles  and  jiremeditation.  One  sucli  case, 
which  nuist  have  been  a  remarkable  one,  is  told  in  so 
many  dilTerent  versions,  that  it  is  diiricnlt  to  decide 
wliich  is  the  true  one.  A  certain  shoemaker,  radical 
and  inlidel,  was  among  the  number  of  those  under 
Irving's  special  care ;  a  home-workman  of  course, 
always  present,  silent,  with  his  back  turned  u})on  the 
visitors,  and  refusing  any  communication  except  a  sullen 
humph  of  impHed  criticism,  wliile  liis  trembhng  wife 
made  her  deprecating  curtsy  in  the  foreground.  The 
way  in  whicli  tliis  intractable  individual  was  linally  won 
over,  is  attributed  by  some  tellers  of  the  story  to  a  sud- 
den happy  inspiration  on  Irving's  part ;  but,  by  others, 
to  plot  and  intention.  Approaching  the  bench  one  day, 
the  visitor  took  up  a  piece  of  patent  leather,  then  a 
recent  invention,  and  remarked  upon  it  in  somewliat 
skilled  terms.  The  shoemaker  went  on  with  redoubled 
industiy  at  his  work;  but  at  la.st,  roused  and  exas- 
perated by  the  speecli  and  pretence  of  knowledge, 
demanded,  hi  great  contempt,  but  without  raising  his 
eyes,  "  What  do  ye  ken  about  leather?"  This  was  just 
the  opportunity  liis  assailant  wanted ;  for  Irving,  though 
a  mimster  and  a  scholar,  was  a  tanner's  son,  and  could 
discourse  learnedly  upon  that  material.  Gradually  in- 
terested and  mollified,  the  cobbler  slackened  work,  and 
listened  while  his  visitor  descriljcd  some  process  of 
making  shoes  by  machiner}%  which  he  had  carefully  got 


"HE    KENS   ABOUT    LEATHEE."  lil 

up  for  the  purpose.  At  last  the  shoemaker  so  far  for- 
got his  caution  as  to  suspend  his  work  aUogether,  and 
hft  his  eyes  to  the  great  figure  stooping  over  his  bench. 
The  conversation  went  on  with  increased  vigour  after 
this,  till  finally  the  recusant  threw  down  his  arms:  — 
"Od,  you  're  a  decent  kind  o'  fellovv^ ! — do  you  preach  ?" 
said  the  vanquished,  curious  to  know  more  of  his  victor. 
The  advantage  was  discreetly,  but  not  too  hotly  pur- 
sued ;  and  on  the  following  Sunday  the  rebel  made  a 
defiant,  shy  appearance  at  church.  Next  day  Irving 
encountered  him  in  the  savoury  Gallowgate,  and  hailed 
him  as  a  friend.  Walking  beside  him  in  natural  talk, 
the  tall  probationer  laid  his  hand  upon  the  shirt-sleeve 
of  the  shrunken  sedentary  workman,  and  marched  by 
his  side  along  the  well-frequented  street.  By  the  time 
they  had  feached  the  end  of  their  mutual  way  not  a 
spark  of  resistance  was  left  in  the  shoemaker.  His 
children  henceforward  went  to  school ;  his  deprecating 
wife  went  to  the  kirk  in  peace.  He  himself  acquired 
that  suit  of  Sunday  "  blacks  "  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  the 
poor  Scotchman,  and  became  a  churchgoer  and  respect- 
able member  of  society ;  while  his  acknowledgment  of 
his  conqueror  was  conveyed  with  characteristic  reti- 
cence, and  conceahnent  of  all  deeper  feehng,  in  the  self- 
excusing  pretence — "  He  's  a  sensible  man,  yon  ;  he 
kens  about  leather ! " 

The  preacher  who  knew  about  leather  had,  however, 
in  conjunction  with  that  cordiahty  which  won  the 
shoemaker's  heart,  a  solemnity  and  apostohc  demeanour 
which  midit  have  looked  lil^e  affectation  in  another 
man,  and  has,  indeed,  been  called  affectation  even  in 
Irving  by  those  who  did  not  know  him  ;  though  never 


1)2  APOSTOLIC    IJKN'KDUTIOX. 

l>v  any  man  wlio  did.  rrobablv  liis  loiiij;,  silent  con- 
toniplation  ol"  llial  solitary  mission  which  he  liad  set 
liii?  lieart  on,  had  made  him  IVanir  his  wry  maimer  and 
address  accordin^ii  to  apostolic  rule.  When  lie  entered 
those  sombre  apartments  in  theGallowgate,  it  was  with 
the  salutation  "Peace  be  to  this  house,"  with  which  lie 
might  have  entered  a  Persian  palace  or  desert  tent. 
"  Itwai?  very  peculiar;  a  thing  that  nobody  else  did," 
says  a  simple-mindi'd  member  of  Dr.  Chalmers's 
agency  :  "  it  was  im})ossible  not  to  remark  it,  out  of"  the 
way  as  it  was  ;  but  there  was  not  one  of  tlie  agency 
could  make  an  objection  to  it.  It  took  the  ])eople's 
attention  wonderfully."  A  certain  solemn  atmosphere 
entered  with  that  lofty  figure,  speaking  in  matchless 
harmony  of  voice,  its  "  Peace  be  to  this  house."  To  be 
prayed  for,  sometimes  edif3angly,  soiueLimes  tedious])', 
was  not  uncommon  to  the  Glasgow  poor ;  but  to  be 
blessed  w^as  a  novelt)^  to  thorn.  Perhajis  if  the  idea 
had  Ijeen  pursued  into  the  depths  of  their  minds, 
these  Presbyterians,  all  retaining  sometliing  of  ecclesi- 
astical knowledge,  however  little  religion  they  might 
liave,  would  have  been  disposed  to  deny  the  right  of 
any  man  to  assume  that  priestly  })ower  of  blessing. 
Ining,  however,  did  not  enter  into  any  discussion  of  the 
subject.  It  was  liis  habitual  ])ractice ;  and  tlie  agency, 
puzzled  and  a  little  awed,  "  could  not  make  an  objection 
to  it."  He  did  still  more  than  this.  He  laid  his  hands 
upon  the  heads  of  the  children,  and  pronounced,  with 
imposing solemnit)%  tlie  ancient  benediction,  "The  Lord 
bless  thee  and  keep  thee,"  over  each  of  them — a 
praf;tice  startling  to  Scotch  ears,  but  acquiesced  in 
involuntarily  as  natural  to  the  man  who,  all  solitaiy 


LNTERCOUESE   WITH   THE    POOE.  113 

and  individual  in  picturesque  homely  grandeur,  went 
to  and  fro  among  them.  So  grave  a  preface  did  not 
detract  from  the  entire  heartiness  with  which  he  entered 
into  the  concerns  of  the  household  ;  an  intercourse  which 
he  himself  describes  with  touching  simphcity  in  his 
farewell  sermon  addressed  to  the  people  of  St.  John's. 
It  is  impossible  to  give  any  account  of  this  part  of 
his  work  half  so  true  or  so  affecting  as  is  conveyed 
thus,  in  his  own  words  : — 

"  Oh,  how  my  heart  rejoices  to'recur  to  the  hours  I  have 
sitten  under  the  roofs  of  the  people,  and  been  made  a  par- 
taker of  their  confidence,  and  a  witness  of  the  hardships  they 
had  to  endure.  In  the  scantiest  and  perhaps  worst  times  with 
which  this  manufacturing  city  hath  ever  been  pressed,  it  was 
my  almost  daily  habit  to  make  a  round  of  their  families,  and 
uphold,  what  in  me  lay,  the  declining  cause  of  God.  There 
have  I  sitten  with  little  silver  or  gold  of  my  own  to  bestow, 
with  little  command  over  the  charity  of  others,  and  heard 
the  various  narratives  of  hardship — narratives  uttered  for  the 
most  part  with  modesty  and  patience ;  oftener  drawn  forth 
with  difficulty  than  obtruded  on  your  ear ; — their  wants,  their 
misfortunes,  their  ill-requited  labour,  their  hopes  vanishing, 
their  families  dispersing  in  search  of  better  habitations,  the 
Scottish  economy  of  their  homes  giving  way  before  encroach- 
ing necessity ;  debt  rather  than  saving  their  condition ;  bread 
and  water  their  scanty  fare  ;  hard  and  ungrateful  labour  the 
portion  of  their  house.  All  this  have  I  often  seen  and  listened 
to  within  naked  walls ;  the  witness,  oft  the  partaker,  of  their 
miserable  cheer ;  with  little  or  no  means  to  relieve.  Yet  be 
it  known,  to  the  glory  of  Grod  and  the  credit  of  the  poor,  and 
the  encouragement  of  tender-hearted  Christians,  that  such 
application  to  the  heart's  ailments  is  there  in  our  religion, 
and  such  a  hold  in  its  promises,  and  such  a  pith  of  endurance 
in  its  noble  examples,  that  when  set  forth  by  one  inexperienced 
tongue,  with  soft  words  and  kindly  tones,  they  did  never  fail 
to  drain  the  heart  of  the  sourness  that  calamity  engenders, 

YOL,  I.  I 


114  A    LEGACY 

and  sweoton  it  with  the  hnhu  of  rosiLrrmtion — often  cnlarm'  it 
with  rhoorful  hope,  son u'tinn's  swell  it  high  with  Ihr  rejoicings 
of  a  Christian  triiiinjili." 

A  more  aflectin<x  picture  of  tlic  i)Osition  of  the  Cliris- 
tinii  vi>it()r,  "  witli  little  or  no  iiunns  to  relieve,"  except 
by  sympathy,  and  testimony  to  tiie  eonbolatory  uses  of 
the  gospel,  was  never  made.  There  does  not  exist  human 
misery  inider  the  sun  Avliich  would  not  be  cheered  and 
softened  by  such  ministrations.  lie  who  was  "  often 
the  partaker  of  their  miserable  cheer,"  who  blessed  the 
poor  meal  and  blessed  the  house,  and  linked  himself  to 
the  sufferers  by  such  half-sacramental  breaking  of 
the  bread  of  sorrow,  could  never  fail  to  find  his  way 
into  their  hearts.  lie  was  not  always,  however,  with- 
out silver  or  gold  of  his  own  to  bestow.  A  Uttle  legacy 
was  left  him  just  at  the  time  he  describes,  a  legacy  of 
some  sum  between  thirty  and  a  hundred  pounds, —  for 
tradition  has  come  to  be  doubtful  as  to  the  amount. 
Such  a  httle  windfall  one  might  suppose  would  have 
been  very  acceptable  to  Dr.  Chalmers's  helper  ;  and  so 
it  was ;  but  after  a  fashion  entirely  his  own.  Irving 
melted  his  legacy  mto  the  one-pound  notes  ciu'rent  in 
Scotland,  deposited  them  in  his  desk,  and  every 
morning,  as  long  as  they  lasted,  put  one  in  his  pocket 
when  he  went  out  to  his  visitations.  The  legacy  lasted 
just  as  many  days  as  it  was  pounds  in  value,  and  doubt- 
less produced  as  much  pleasure  to  its  owner  as  ever  was 
purchased  by  money.  Wliat  Dr.  Chalmers  said  to  this 
barefaced  alms-giving,  in  the  very  midst  of  his  social 
economy,  I  cannot  tell.  As  to  its  destination  nobody 
but  Irving  was  any  the  ^viser.  It  melted  into  gleams  of 
comfort,  transitory  but  precious ;  and  he  who  shared 


THE   HELP   OF   A   BROTHER.  Ho 

the  hard  and  scanty  bread  on  the  poor  man's  table, 
could  share  the  better  meal  when  it  was  in  his  power 
to  bestow  it.  This  was  Irving's  idea  of  his  office  and 
fmictions  among  the  poor.  He  had  learned  it  theo- 
retically from  no  other  teacher  than  liis  own  heart. 
Eiit  he  had  learned  the  practice  of  it,  which  so  many 
fain  would  acquire  without  knowing  how,  in  those 
primitive  journeys  of  his,  where  his  lodgings  were  found 
in  the  cot-house  and  cabin ;  and  it  was  his  pleasure  to 
make  himself  as  acceptable  a  guest  as  if  the  potato  or 
porridge  had  been  festive  dainties,  and  his  entertamers 
lords  and  princes.  Such  a  gift  of  brotherhood,  how- 
ever, is  as  rare  as  any  gift  of  genius.  Irving  was 
unique  in  it  among  his  contemporaries ;  and  has  had 
but  few  equals  in  any  time. 

Matters,  however,  had  not  changed  much  up  to 
this  period  in  respect  to  his  preaching.  Friends  who 
accompanied  him  to  church  when  it  was  his  turn  to 
conduct  the  services,  tell,  as  a  very  common  incident, 
that  the  preacher  going  in  was  met  by  groups  coming 
out  with  disappointed  looks,  complaining,  as  the  reason 
of  their  departure,  that  "it's  no  himseV  the  day." 
Nothing  better  was  to  be  looked  for  when  himseV  was 
such  a  man  as  Chalmers  ;  and  if  his  assistant  felt  at  all 
sore  on  the  subject,  his  mortification  must  have  been 
much  allayed  by  the  umivaUed  gifts  of  his  great 
colleague.  There  is,  however,  no  sign  of  soreness  or 
mortijB.cation  in  him.  A  brilhant  vision  of  what  he  yet 
might  attain  had  flickered  before  his  eyes  all  through  his 
probation,  as  is  apparent  by  many  tokens,  but  he  never 
disguised  from  himself  his  failure  in  popularity.  He 
>miled  to  his  companions,  not  without  an  appreciation  of 

I  2 


\\C,  "  ITS    NO    IlIMSEL. 

the  joke,  wlien  the  good  people  eanic  out  of  the  clnircli 
iloor  because  it  was  "uo  hinisel'."  lie  did  not  forget  wliat 
lie  had  said,  tliat  if  tliis  ])eople  bore  with  liiui,  tliej?^  were 
tlie  fii-st  who  ever  would  ;  nor  did  he  hesitate  to  icpcnl 
that  '*  this  coimreLiratiou  is  almost  the  hrst  in  which  our 
j)reaehing  was  tolerated,"  and  even  that  still, "  we  know, 
on  the  other  hand,  that  our  inijicrfections  have  not  been 
liid  from  your  eyes."  Yet  this  unpopularity,  admitted 
with  frankness  so  unusual,  and  perhaps  excessive,  was  by 
no  means  universal.  Within  the  gi'eat  assembly  who  ve- 
nerated Dr.  Chalmers  was  a  smaller  circle  Avho  looked 
upon  In'ing  ^\^th  all  the  enthusiastic  admiration  natu- 
rally given  to  a  man  whose  merits  the  admirer  himself 
has  been  the  first  to  find  out.  "  Irving's  preaching,"  said 
Dr.  Chalmers,  evidently  not  w^th  any  very  great  ad- 
miration of  it,  "  is  like  Italian  music,  appreciated  only 
l)y  connoisseurs."  But  he  does  not  hesitate  to  compare 
the  influence  of  his  assistant,  on  another  and  more  cor- 
dial occasion,  to  a  special  magnetic  spell,  which  went 
to  the  very  hearts  of  those  susceptible  to  it,  though  it 
fell  blank  upon  the  unimpressionable  multitude.  Oii 
the  whole.  Dr.  Chalmers's  opinion  of  him  is  the  opinion 
of  one  who  only  half  understands,  and  docs  not  more 
than  half  sympathise  with,  a  character  much  less  broad, 
but  in  some  respects  more  elevated  than  his  own,  A 
certain  impatience  flashes  into  the  judgment.  The 
statesman  and  philosopher  w^atchcs  the  poet-enthusiast 
with  a  doubtful,  troubled,  half-amused,  half-sad  per- 
plexity ;  — likes  him,  yet  does  not  know  what  he  would 
be  at ;  is  embarrassed  by  his  warm  love,  praise,  and 
gratitude;  —  vexed  to  see  him  commit  himself; — im- 
patient of  what  he  himself  thinks   credulity,   vanity. 


TWO    PRESBYTEKS.  117 

waste  of  power ;  but  never  without  a  sober,  regretful 
affection  for  tlie  bright,  unsteady  light  that  could  not  be 
persuaded  to  shine  only  in  its  proper  lantern.  This 
sort  of  admiiing,  indulgent,  affectionate  half-compre- 
hension is  apparent  throughout  the  whole  intercourse 
of  these  two  great  men.  That  Chalmers  was  the 
greater  intellect  of  the  two  I  do  not  attempt  to  question  ; 
nor  yet  that  he  was  in  all  practical  matters  the  more 
eminent  and  serviceable  man ;  but  that  Irving  had 
instinctive  comprehensions  and  graces,  which  went 
high  over  the  head  of  his  great  contemporary,  seems 
to  me  as  evident  as  the  other  conclusion. 

A  light  quite  peculiar  and  characteristic  falls  upon 
Glasgow  by  means  of  these  two  figures,  —  Chalmers, 
with  a  certain  sweep  and  wind  of  action  always  about 
him,  rushing  on  impetuous,  at  the  height  of  his  influ- 
ence, legislating  for  his  parish  in  bold  independence, 
perhaps  the  only  real  Autocrat  of  his  day; — Irving, 
almost  loitering  about  the  unlovely  streets,  open  to  all 
the  individual  interests  thereabouts ;  learned  in  the 
names,  the  stories,  the  pecuharities  of  his  three  hundi'ed 
families;  stiU  secondary,  dependent,  dallying  with 
dreams  of  a  time  when  he  should  be  neither,  of  a 
Utopia  all  his  own ;  not  influential  at  all  as  yet,  only 
remarkable ;  noted  on  the  streets,  noted  in  the  houses 
he  frequented,  an  out-of-the-way,  incomprehensible 
man,  whose  future  fortune  it  was  not  safe  to  foretell.  In 
the  anecdotes  told  of  him  he  often  looms  forth  with  a 
certain  simple  elevation,  which  is  unmoved  by  ordinary 
restraints  and  motives ;  and  always  leaves  some  recol- 
lection of  his  imposing  presence  upon  the  memories  of 
all  whom  he   encounters.     Amid  aU   the  luxuries  of 


lis  Tin:  riiDLAR. 

rich,  lavisli  Glas<xow,  lie  still  set  f(irlli  nfoot  in  liis  times 
of  relaxation,  in  i)riniitive  hardness,  earrying  his  own 
belongings  on  his  shoulder,  or  helped  the  weak  on 
his  way  without  a  uiouient's  consideration  oi"  the  pro- 
priety of  the  matter.  Thus,  on  one  occasion  he  is  re- 
ported to  have  been  on  his  way  to  some  Presbytery 
meeting  in  the  country  —  probably  some  ordination  or 
settlement  which  attracted  his  interest,  though  not  a 
member  of  the  court.  The  ministers  of  the  Presbytery 
were  to  be  conveyed  in  carriages  to  the  scene  of  action, 
but  Irving,  who  was  only  a  spectator  and  supernumerary, 
set  off  on  foot,  according  to  his  usual  custom.  The 
"  brethren"  in  their  carriages  came  up  to  him  on  the 
way — came  up  at  least  to  a  tall,  remarkable  figure, 
which  would  have  been  undeniably  that  of  Dr.  Chal- 
mers's helper,  but  that  it  bore  a  pedlar's  pack  upon  its 
stalwart  shoulders,  and  was  accompanied  side  by  side 
by  the  fatigued  proprietor  of  the  same.  To  the  laughter 
and  jokes  which  liailed  him,  however,  Irving  presented 
a  rather  affronted,  indignant  aspect.  He  could  see  no 
occasion  for  either  laughter  or  remark.  The  pedlar 
was  a  poor  Irislmian  worn  out  with  his  burden.  "  His 
countrymen  were  kind  to  me,"  said  tlie  offended  proba- 
tioner, recalling  those  days  when,  sick  at  heart,  he 
plunged  among  the  Ulster  cabins,  and  got  some  comfort 
out  of  his  wanderings.  He  earned  the  pack  steadily 
till  its  poor  owner  was  rested  and  ready  to  resume  it, 
and  thought  it  only  natural.  On  another  occasion  he 
had  gone  down  to  visit  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Story,  o(" 
Eosneath,  in  that  beautiful  little  peninsula  ;  and  in  the 
sweet  gloaming  of  a  summer  night  stood  on  the  narrow 
tongue  of  laud  called  Eow  Point,  and  shouted  across 


"  A   MAN    ON    HORSE."  119 

the  tiny  strait  for  a  boat.  As  lie  stood  with  his  port- 
manteau on  his  shoulder,  among  the  twihght  shadows, 
he  heard  an  answer  over  the  water,  and  presently  saw 
the  boat  gUding  across  the  loch ;  but  when  it  had 
reached  half  way,  to  Irving's  amazement  and  impatience, 
it  turned  back :  some  commotion  arose  on  the  opposite 
side,  hghts  flickered  about  the  bank,  and  only  after  a 
considerable  interval  and  many  impatient  shouts,  the 
oars  began  again  to  dip  into  the  water,  and  the  boat 
approached  heavily.  Wlien  Irving  demanded  why  he 
had  turned  back,  and  had  kept  him  so  long  waiting,  the 
boatman,  ghding  up  to  the  beach,  looked  discomfited 
and  incredulous  at  his  passenger.  "  I  thought  you  were 
a  man  on  horse !  "  cried  the  startled  ferryman,  looking 
up  bewildered  at  the  gigantic  figure  and  portmanteau, 
which  distance  and  darkness  had  shaped  into  a  centaur. 
He  had  gone  back  to  fetch  the  horse-boat,  which  in  all 
its  cumbrous  convenience  was  now  thrust  up  upon  the 
shingle.  Irving  did  not  appreciate  the  consideration. 
It  even  appears  that  he  lost  his  temper  on  the  occasion, 
and  did  not  see  the  joke  when  the  story  was  told. 

In  one  of  those  walkmg  excursions  he  penetrated 
into  the  depths  of  Ayrshire,  and  reached  at  nightfall  the 
house  of  the  Howies  of  Lochgoin,  —  a  name  which 
recalls  all  the  covenanting  traditions  of  that  wild  dis 
trict.  The  family  were  at  prayers — or  "worship,"  as 
it  is  usual  to  call  it  in  Scotland — and  one  of  its  mem- 
bers remembers  the  siurprising  apparition  of  the  tall 
stranger  in  the  spence,  or  outer  room,  when  they  all 
rose  from  their  knees,  as  having  had  a  rather  alarming 
effect  upon  the  family,  whose  devotions  he  had  joined 
unheard,  and  to  whose  house  he  bade  his  usual  "  Peace," 

I  4 


liO  TlIK    llOWIKS. 

Tlioujjjli  tlioy  were  entirely  strangers  to  him,  Irving  not 
only  made  friends,  Init  established  lo  his  own  satisfaetion 
a  link  of  relationship,  by  means  (•!"  llie  Waldensian 
IIo^\'ys,  from  whom  he  himself  boasted  descent.  The 
original  family  of  refugees,  according  to  his  own 
account,  had  spht  into  two  branches,  one  of  wliich 
wandered  to  Ayrshire,  while '  one  settled  in  Annan. 
The  hnk  thus  accidentally  found  was  wai-mly  remem- 
bered, and  the  Orations^  published  when  Irving  was  at 
his  height  of  early  glory,  and  one  of  the  most  largely 
read  and  brilliantly  criticised  of  modei'n  works,  found 
its  way  by  the  hand  of  the  first  traveller  he  could  hear 
of,  from  that  world  of  London  which  turned  his  head, 
as  people  imagine,  dow^n  to  the  moorland  sohtudes  of 
Lochgoin. 

The  year  after  his  ariival  in  Glasgow  he  made  an- 
other visit  to  L'eland,  which  was  attended  by  one 
amusing  result,  upon  which  Jiis  friends  often  ralhed  him. 
He  had  made  an  appointment  with  a  young  Glasgow 
friend  to  meet  him  at  Annan,  in  his  father's  house,  with 
the  idea  of  guiding  the  stranger  through  those  moors 
and  mosses  of  Dumfriesshire  which  were  so  dear  and 
well  known  to  himself.  But  wliile  his  friend  kept  the 
appointment  carefully,  Irving,  seduced  by  the  pleasures 
of  his  ramble,  or  induced,  as  appears  from  a  letter,  to 
lengthen  it  out  by  a  little  incursion  into  England  from 
Liverpool,  forgot  all  about  it.  Tlie  accommodations  of 
Gavin  Irvdng's  hoase  at  Annan  were  limited ;  and 
though  there  was  no  limit  to  Mrs.  Irving's  motherly 
hospitality,  it  was  not  easy  to  entertain  the  unknown 
guest.  The  youngest  of  the  liandsome  sisters  had  to 
exert  herself  in  tliis  emergency.    She  showed  the  young 


HOLIDAY   ADVENTUEES.  121 

stranger  tlie  way  to  the  waterside  and  all  tlie  modest 
beauties  of  the  httle  town.  The  young  man  did  not 
miss  his  friend,  nor  was  any  way  impatient  for  Edward's 
arrival ;  and  when  the  truant  did  come,  at  the  end  of  a 
fortnight,  he  was  called  upon  to  greet  the  stranger, 
whom  he  had  himself  sent  to  Annan,  as  his  sister's 
affianced  husband, — an  astonishmg  but  very  happy 
conclusion,  as  it  turned  out,  to  his  own  carelessness. 

At  another  holiday  time  Irving  accompanied  a  mem- 
ber of  his  congregation  in  some  half-pleasure,  half- 
business  excursion  in  a  gig.  During  this  jomrney  the 
pair  were  about  to  drive  down  a  steep  descent,  when 
Irving,  whose  skiH  as  a  driver  was  not  great,  managed 
to  secure  the  reins,  and  accomplished  the  descent  at  so 
amazing  a  pace  that  several  of  a  httle  party  of  soldiers, 
who  were  crossing  a  bridge  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  were 
driven  into  the  stream  by  the  vehemence  of  the  unex- 
pected charge.  Some  little  distance  further  on,  the  gig 
and  the  travellers  paused  at  a  roadside  inn,  into  the 
pubhc  room  of  which  entered,  after  a  while,  several  of 
these  soldiers.  Two  of  them  regarded  with  whispered 
conferences  the  driver  of  the  gig  ;  and  when  an  oppor- 
tunity of  conversation  offered,  one  of  the  two  addressed 
Irving.  "  This  man,"  said  the  skilful  Scotch  conversa- 
tionahst,.  "  thinks  he's  the  wisest  man  in  a'  the  regiment. 
What  do  ye  thmk,  sir  ?  He  says  you're  the  great  Dr. 
Chalmers."  "  And  do  you  reaUy  think,"  asked  Irving, 
with  an  appeal  -  to  the  candour  of  this  inquiring  mind, 
"  that  I  look  hke  a  minister  ?  "  "  My  certy,  no !  "  cried 
the  simple-minded  warrior ;  "  or  you  wouldna  drive  like 
*(j(m ! " 

Such  comic  hghts,  often  dwelt  upon  and  much  ap- 


]-2'2  SIMPLICITY   OF    IIKAUT. 

preciatod  by  liis  friciuls,  j^lnyed  about  tliis  unusual 
figure,  necessary  accompaniments  of  its  singular  aspect. 
To  his  intimates  he  opened  his  heart  so  freely,  and 
cxhil)ited  all  his  peculiarities  after  so  transparent  a 
faijihion,  that  those  points  of  his  character  which  miglit 
have  appeared  defects  to  the  eyes  of  strangers,  were 
dear  to  those  who  loved  him,  origmating  as  they  did  in 
his  owm  perfect  affectionateness  and  sincerity.  "He 
was  vain,  there  is  no  denpng  it,"  writes  a  dear  friend 
of  his  ;  "  but  it  was  a  vanity  proceeding  out  of  what 
was  best  and  most  lovable  in  him, — his  childlike  sim- 
plicity and  desire  to  be  loved ; — his  crystal  trans- 
parency of  character  letting  every  httle  weakness  show 
through  it  as  frankly  as  his  noblest  quaUties  ;  and,  above 
all,  out  of  his  loyal,  his  divine  trust  in  the  absolute 
tmth  and  sincerity,  and  the  generous  sympathy  and 
good-will  of  all  who  made  fiiendly  advances  towards 
him."  But  his  aspect  to  the  general  mass,  who  saw 
him  only  "  in  society,"  or  in  the  pulpit,  was  of  a  different 
kind.  The  solemnity  of  his  appearance  and  manners 
impressed  that  outside  audience.  He  spoke  in  lan- 
guage "  such  as  grave  livers  do  in  Scotland  use,"  with  a 
natural  pomp  of  diction  at  all  times  ;  and  took  a  cer- 
tain priestly  attitude  which  is  not  usual  in  Scotland, — 
the  attitude  of  a  man  who  stands  between  God  and  his 
fellows.  A  story,  for  which  I  will  not  vouch,  is  told  of 
one  such  remarkable  appearance  which  he  made  at  a 
Glasgow  dmner-party.  A  young  man  was  present  who 
had  permitted  himself  to  talk  profanely,  in  a  manner 
now  unknown,  and  which  would  not  be  tolerated  in 
any  party  now-a-days.  After  expending  all  his  littl(? 
wit   upon   Priestcraft   and   its  inventions,  this  youth, 


SOLEMNITY   OF   DEPOETMENT.  123 

getting  bold  by  degrees,  at  last  attacked  Irving — who 
had  hitherto  taken  no  notice  of  him — directly,  as  one 
of  the  world-deluding  order.  Irving  heard  him  out  in 
silence,  and  then  turned  to  the  other  Hsteners.  "  My 
friends,"  he  said,  "  I  will  make  no  reply  to  tliis  imhappy 
youth,  who  hath  attacked  the  Lord  in  the  person  of  his 
servant ;  but  let  us  pray  that  this  his  sin  may  not  be  laid 
to  his  charge  ;  "  and  with  a  solemn  motion  of  his  hand, 
which  the  awe-struck  diners-out  insthictively  obeyed, 
Irving  rose  up  to  his  full  majestic  height,  and  solemnly 
commended  the  offender  to  the  forgiveness  of  God. 
Wliether  this  incident  reaUy  occurred  I  cannot  teU ;  but 
it  is  one  of  the  anecdotes  told  of  him,  and  it  certainly 
embodies  the  most  popular  conception  of  his  demeanour 
and  bearing. 

The  labours  of  all  engaged  in  that  parish  were  un- 
ceasing; and  in  addition  to  the  two  services  on  each 
Sunday,  which  were  Irving's  share  of  the  work,  and 
the  perpetual  round  of  parochial  visits  and  occasional 
services,  he  was  "  always  ready,"  —  as  says  Mr.  David 
Stowe,  the  educational  reformer  of  Glasgow,  whose  life- 
long work  was  then  commencing  in  a  great  system  of 
Sunday  schools, — to  lend  his  aid  wherever  it  was  re- 
quired. When  the  Sunday  scholars  were  slow  to  be 
drawn  out,  or  the  district  unpromising,  or  a  more 
distinct  impulse  necessary  than  could  be  given  by  mere 
visits  and  mvitations,  Irving  did  not  hesitate  to  go 
down  with  the  anxious  teacher  to  his  "proportion," 
and  with  his  Bible  in  his  hand,  take  his  station  against 
the  wall,  and  address  the  slowly  gathering  assembly 
all  unused  to  out-of-door  addresses,  a  species  of  minis- 
trations which  were  at  the  period  considered  rather 


1J4  CONVICTS    IN    tiLASCJOW    .lAll,. 

iKMicatli  the  (liLTuilv  (>f  niinistors  of  tlie  Clnircli.  lr\iii<x 
liad  also  tlu'  c-liariro  of  visiting  tlio  (.'onvicts  in  ])rison  ; 
and  is  said  to  liavo  done  so  on  some  occasions  witli 
great  cflect.  One  of  tliose  unliappy  persons  liad  been 
condemned  for  a  murder,  though  strenuously  denying 
his  guilt.  After  his  conviction,  tlie  unhn])py  mnti  suc- 
ceeded in  interesting  his  visitor  by  his  assertions  of 
iimoccnce;  and  when  Irving  left  tlie  prison,  it  was  to 
])lunge  into  the  dens  of  the  Gallowgate,  taking  wilh 
him  as  assistants  a  private  friend  of  his  own,  and  a 
member  of  Dr.  Chalmers's  agency — to  make  a  last 
anxious  effort  to  discover  whether  any  excul[)atory 
evidence  was  to  be  found.  The  survivhig  member  of 
tliat  generous  i)arly  remembers  how  they  searched 
through  the  foul  recesses  of  the  Glasgow  St.  Giles's : 
and  went  to  all  the  haunts  of  their  wretched  client, 
a  charitable,  forlorn  hope.  But  the  matter,  it  turned 
out,  was  hopeless  ;  what  they  heard  confirmed,  instead 
of  shaking,  the  justice  of  tlie  conviction,  and  the 
bootless  investigation  was  given  up. 

But  the  kind  of  work  in  which  he  was  thus  enfTajred 
was  not  the  great  work  in  which  his  fame  was  to  be 
gained,  or  his  use  in  his  generation  manifested.  In  all 
that  is  told  of  him  he  appears  in  the  shade  —  only  sup- 
plementing the  works  of  another  ;  and  it  is  amusing 
to  observe,  even  at  tliis  long  distance  of  time,  that  the 
ancient  office-bearers  of  St.  John's,  once  Dr.  Chalmers's 
prime  ministers  in  the  government  of  that,  his  king- 
dom, can  scarcely  yet  forbear  a  certain  patronising 
regard  towards  Dr.  Chalmers's  lielper.  They  all  went 
to  hear  liim,  hke  virtuous  men,  who  set  a  good  ex- 
ample to  the  flock,  and  tolerated  the  inexperience  of 


IRVIXG    TATKOXIZED    BY   THE   OFFICE-BEARERS.        125 

the  strange  probationer ;  and  sat  out,  with  a  certain 
self-complacence,  those  sermons  which  were  to  stir 
to  its  depths  a  wider  world  than  that  of  Glasgow. 
One  here  and  there  even  detected  a  suspicion  of  un- 
soundness in  the  vehement  addresses  of  the  young 
preacher ;  and  I  have  been  told  of  a  most  singular, 
unorthodox  sentiment  of  his — unorthodox,  but  at  exact 
antipodes  from  later  sentiments  equally  unlawful 
— which  one  zealous  hearer  noted  down  in  those 
old  days,  and  submitted  to  Dr.  Chalmers  as  a  mat- 
ter which  should  be  noticed.  Wise  Chalmers  only 
smiled,  and  shook  his  head.  He  himself  had  but  an 
imperfect  understanding  of  his  assistant ;  but  he  was 
not  to  be  persuaded  by  the  evidence  of  one  stray  sen- 
tence that  his  brother  had  gone  astray. 

Thus  Irving  lived,  in  the  shade.  Some  of  those  friends 
to  whom  he  attached  himself  so  fervently,  young  men 
like  himself,  not  yet  settled  down  into  the  proprieties  of 
hfe,  supported  his  claims  to  a  higher  appreciation  with 
vehement  partisanship,  which  proceeded  as  much  from 
love  to  the  man  as  from  admiration  of  his  genius. 
Here  and  there  an  eager  boy,  in  the  ragged  red 
o-own  which  Glassrow  uses  for  academical  costume, 
recognised,  with  the  intuition  of  youth,  the  high  elo- 
quence flashing  over  those  slumbrous  heads.  But  on 
the  whole,  the  Glasgow  congregation  sat  patronisingly 
quiet,  and  hstened,  without  much  remarking  what  the 
"  helper  had  to  say."  As  much  as  the  ordinary  brain 
could  bear,  they  had  already  heard,  or  were  to  hear 
the  same  day  from  "  the  Doctor  himsel'."  Under  such 
circumstances  it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  they 
could  do  more  than  listen  calmly  to  the  addresses  of 


1-26  IN*    TIIK    SIIADK. 

the  other  preacher,  ^vllor<e  manner,  and  lookj^,  and  nu)dc 
of  address  were  all  inidoid)tcdly  exceptional,  and  sub- 
ject  to   criticism.      Such    a   strain   -would  have  been 
impossible  to  any  merely  mortal  audience  ;  so  the  good 
people     drowsed   through    tlie   afternoons,    and  were 
kind  to  'Mr.  Irving ;  they  were  veiy  glad  to  hear  tlie 
Doctor  found  him  so  serviceable  among  his  poor  ;  that 
the  agency  made  so  good  a  report  of  him  ;  and  that 
altoL^ether  he  was  likely  to  do  well.     Tliey  told  tlie 
current  stories  of  liis  gigantic  form,  and  doubtful  looks, 
and  odd  ways — laughed  at  liis  impetuous  mdividuality 
with  kindness,  but  amusement — and  had  as  little  idea 
of  the  fame  he  was  to  reach,  as  of  any  other  incompre- 
hensible event.  The  profound  unconsciousness  in  which 
this    stranire    little    community,    all    dominated    and 
governed  by  their  leader  and  hLs  great  project,  held 
lightly  the  other  great  intelligence   in   the  midst  of 
them,   is   as   strange   a   picture  of  human   nature   as 
could  be  seen.     It  reminds  one   of  that  subtle   law 
of  evidence   which    Sir   Walter  Scott    introduces   so 
dramatically  in  accounting  for  the  recognition  of  his 
hero  Bertram,  in  Gwj  Mannering^hj  the  postilion,  who 
had  seen  liini  A\dthout  an  idea  of  recognising  him  before. 
"  Wliawas  thinking  o'  auld  EUangowan  then?"  says  Jock 
Jabos.     Tlie  principle  holds  good  in  wider  questions. 
The  Glasgow  people  had  their  eyes  fixed  upon    one 
man  of  genius  and  his  great  doings.     They  certainly 
saw  the  other  man  m  the  shadow  of  liis  chief,  and  had 
a  perception,  by  the  way,  of  his  stature  and  peculiarities. 
But  who  was  thinking  of  genius  or  extraordinary  en- 
do\vnTients  in  Dr.  Chalmers's  helper  ?     Their  eyes  had 
not  been  directed  to  him ;  they  saw  him  always  in  tlic 


HIS   LOYALTY  AND    ADMIKATION.  127 

shade,  carrying  out  another  man's  ideas,  and  dominated 
by  another  man's  superior  influence ;  and  this  most 
natural  and  prevaihng  principle  of  human  thought 
kept  Irving  obscure  and  unrevealed  to  their  eyes. 

The  same  influence  gradually  wrought  upon  himself. 
It  is  apparent  that  there  was  much  in  his  Glasgow  life 
which  he  enjoyed,  and  which  suited  him;  and  no 
more  loyal  expression  of  regard  for  a  master  and  leader 
was  ever  written  than  the  dedication  afterwards  ad- 
dressed to  Dr.  Chahners,  in  which  he  thanks  God  for 
"  that  dispensation  which  brought  me  acquainted  with 
your  good  and  tender-hearted  nature,  whose  splendid 
accompUshments  I  knew  already  ;  and  you  now  hve  in 
the  memory  of  my  heart  more  than  in  my  admiration. 
Wliile  I  laboured  as  yoiu:  assistant,  my  labours  were 
never  weary ;  they  were  never  enough  to  express  my 
thankfulness  to  God  for  having  associated  me  w^ith 
such  a  man,  and  my  affection  to  the  man  with  whom 
I  was  associated."  To  the  same  tenor  is  the  tone  of  his 
farewell  sermon,  the  first  production  which  he  ever 
gave  to  the  press,  and  in  which,  not  without  much  stren- 
uous argument  for  the  freedom  of  mdividual  preaching, 
his  favoiurite  and  oft-repeated  theme,  he  acknowledges 
"  the  burden  of  my  obhgations  to  my  God,"  in  respect 
to  his  residence  in  Glasgow.  "  He  has  given  me,"  says 
the  preacher,  his  heart  sweUing  with  all  the  gratitude 
and  affection  wliich  kindness  always  produced  m  him, 
and  the  warm  impulse  of  his  nature  casting  all  di'aw- 
backs  behind,  "  the  fellowship  of  a  man  mighty  in  his 
Church,  an  approving  congregation  of  his  people,  the 
attachment  of  a  populous  corner  of  his  vmeyard.  I 
ask  no  more  of  heayen  for  the  future  but  to  grant  me 


us  Tin:    niJKillT   SIDE. 

the  continiinnro  o^  \ho  ]inrfi(>n  wliirli,  by  tlie  s])iu-c'  of 
throe  years,  1  liavc  hero  onjoyotl.  lUit  this  I  need  not 
expect.  Never  again  s^liall  T  (iiid  another  man  of 
transcendent  genius  wlioni  I  can  love  as  iniu  li  as  I 
aihnire — into  wlio.se  liousc  I  can  ujo  in  and  out  Hke  a 
sou  —  wlioni  I  can  revere  as  a  fatlier,  and  serve  with 
tlie  devotion  of  a  cliild  —  nt'ver  shall  I  find  another 
hundred  consociated  men  of  [)iety,  and  by  fire-will 
consociated,  whose  every  sentiment  I  can  adopt,  and 
■\vliose  cveiy  scheme  I  can  find  dchght  to  second.  And 
I  feel  I  shall  never  find  another  parish  of  ten  thousand 
into  every  house  of  wOiich  I  w\as  welcomed  as  a  friend, 
and  solicited  back  as  a  brother." 

This  was  one  side  of  the  picture  :  sincerely  felt  and 
fully  expressed,  without  any  restraint  from  the  thought 
that  on  the  other  side  he  had  expressed,  and  yet  should 
express  as  fully,  his  weariness,  his  longings  for  a  scene 
of  action  entirely  his  own ;  liis  almost  disgust  with  a 
subordination  which  had  now  exceeded  the  natural 
period  of  probation.  It  w-as  no  pnit  of  Irving's  temper 
to  acknowledge  any  such  restramt.  Wliat  he  said  in 
the  fidlest,  grateful  sincerity,  he  did  not  stumble  and 
choke  over  because  he  was  aware  of  havhig  on  another 
occasion  expressed,  with  equal  warmth,  another  phase 
of  feehng,  equally  sincere,  though  apparently  inconsis- 
tent. That  he  should  have  been  content  with  the  posi- 
tion which  he  describes  in  such  glowing  colours  would 
have  been  simply  unnatural.  lie  had  now  attained  the 
age  when  it  becomes  necessary  for  a  man  to  do  what  Tic 
has  to  do  in  this  world  for  himself,  and  not  for  another  : 
he  was  approaching  the  completion  of  his  thirtieth  year. 
Nature  lierself  protested  that  he  could  remain  no  longer 


THE    DAKK   SIDE.  129 

dependent  and.  secondary ;  and  that  it  was  time  to  be 
done  with  probationary  efforts.     Hjs  thoughts,  which 
had  been  so  long  kept  silent  while  his  heart  burned, 
and  so  long  indifferently  listened  to  by  a  pre-occupied 
audience,  must  have  full  course.     His  energy  must  have 
scope  in  an  independent  field.     To  stand  aside  longer, 
with  all  his  conscious  powers  burning  within  him,  was 
gradually  becoming  impossible  to  Irving.     At  the  very 
moment  when  he  recognised  with  generous  enthusiasm 
the  advantages  of  his  position,  he  felt  its  limits  and  con- 
finements like  a  chain  of  iron  round  his  neck.     The 
bondage,  though   these  were   the   most   desirable   of 
bonds,  was  gradually  growing  intolerable.     He  was  a 
man  fully  equipped  and  prepared,  aware  of  a  longer  pro- 
bation, a  sterner  prelude,  a  harder  training  than  most 
men.     We  will  not  venture  to  say   that   the   natural 
sweetness  of  his    heart  could  have   been   embittered 
even  by  the  continuance  of  this  unencouraging  labour  ; 
but,  at  all  events,  nature  took  alarm,  and  felt  herself  in 
danger.     He  received  an  invitation  to  go  tq^  Kingston, 
in  Jamaica,  to  a  Presbyterian  congregation  there,  and  is 
said  to  have  taken  it  into  serious  consideration,  and 
only  to  have  been  deterred  fi'om  accepting  it  by  the 
opposition  of  his  friends.     White  men  or  black  men, 
what  did  it  matter,  so  long  as  he  could  build,  not  upon 
another  man's  foundation,  but  do  his  own  work  as  God 
has   ordained  to   every  man?     And  failing  that,   his 
ancient  missionary  thoughts  returned  to  his  mind  ;  I  can- 
not help  thinking  that  there  is  something  wonderfully 
pathetic  and  touching  in  this  project,  which  he  carried 
so  far  upon  the  way  of  life  with  him,  and  to  which  up 
to   this   moment  he  always  recurred  when   his   path 
VOL.  I.  K 


ISO  MISSIONARY    rUOJlXTS    KRN'KWEl). 

btvaine  dark  or  iiiii)raoticahlo.  I  could  I'aiuT  it  a  siii,^- 
ge>li()iu)f"  lioawii  to  liini  asidi'  liis  feet,  ^vllik•  il  wasyet 
]>ossihle,  fioin  lliat  fiery  ordeal  and  ])aspage  of  agony 
throiiLdi  whieh  his  eoiirse  lav.  The  same  thoughts, 
whicli  once  filled  his  chamber  in  Uristo  Street,  came 
back  in  the  winter  of  1821,  when,  after  two  years'  labour 
in  Glasfjow.  he  saw  himself  no  further  advanced  in  his 
independent  waj"  than  when,  full  of  ho]:)es,  he  had  come 
there  to  open  his  mouth  in  his  Master's  service.  Dr. 
Chalmers  could  get  many  assistants,  but  Edward  Irving 
could  get  but  one  life,  and  was  this  all  it  was  destined 
to  come  to  ?     Auain  he  saw  himself  goino;  forth  for- 

C  DO 

lorn,  giving  up  all  things  for  his  Lord ;  carrying  the 
gospel  afar,  over  distant  mountains,  distant  plains,  into 
the  fixr  Eastern  wastes.  It  was  an  enterprise  to  make 
the  heart  beat  and  swell,  but  it  was  death  to  all  human 
hopes.  \Vlien  he  grasped  that  cross  the  roses  and  lau- 
rels would  fade  out  of  his  expectation  for  ever.  Love 
and  fame  must  both  be  left  behind.  It  was  in  him  to 
leave  thenj  l^ehind  had  the  visible  moment  arrived,  and 
the  guidance  of  Providence  appeared.  But  he  under- 
stood while  he  pondered  what  was  the  extent  of  the 
sacrifice. 

Just  at  this  moment  the  clouds  opened  —  he  has 
described  it  so  well  in  'his  ovm  words  that  it  would  be 
worse  than  vanity  to  use  any  other  :  — 

"  The  Caledonian  Church  had  been  placed  under  the  pas- 
toral care  of  two  worthy  ministers,  who  were  Buccessively 
called  to  parochial  charges  in  the  Church  of  Scotland  ;  and 
by  their  removal,  and  for  want  of  a  stated  ministry,  it  was  re- 
duced to  great  and  almost  hopeless  straits.  Jjiit  faith  hopeth 
against  hope,  and  when  it  does  so,  never  faileth  to  be  re- 
warded.    This  was  proved  in  the  case  of  those  two  men  whose 


THE   CALEDONIAN   CHAPEL,    HATTON  GARDEN.         131 

names  I  have  singled  out  from  your  number,  to  give  them 
that  honour  to  which  they  are  entitled  in  the  face  of  the  con- 
gregation. Having  heard  through  a  friend  of  theirs,  and 
now  also  of  mine,  but  at  that  time  unknown  to  me,  of  my 
unworthy  labours  in  Glasgow,  as  assistant  to  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Chalmers,  they  commissioned  him  to  speak  to  me  concerning 
their  vacant  church,  and  not  to  hide  from  me  its  present 
distress. 

"  Well  do  I  remember  the  morning  when,  as  I  sat  in  my 
lonely  apartment,  meditating  the  uncertainties  of  a  preacher's 
calling,  and  revolving  in  my  mind  purposes  of  missionary 
work,  this  stranger  stepped  in  upon  my  musing,  and  opened 
to  me  the  commission  with  which  he  had  been  charged.  The 
answer  which  I  made  to  him,  with  which  also  I  opened  my 
correspondence  with  the  brethren,  whose  names  are  men- 
tioned above,  was  to  this  effect :  '  If  the  times  permitted, 
and  your  necessities  required  that  I  should  not  only  preach 
the  gospel  without  being  bm'densome  to  you,  but  also  by  the 
labour  of  my  hands  minister  to  your  wants,  this  would  I 
esteem  a  more  honourable  degree  than  to  be  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury.'  And  such  as  the  beginning  was,  was  also  the 
continuance  and  ending  of  this  negotiation.  .  .  .  Being  in  such 
a  spirit  towards  one  another,  the  preliminaries  were  soon 
arranged  —  indeed  I  may  say  needed  no  arrangement  —  and  I 
came  up  on  the  day  before  the  Christmas  of  1821,  to  make 
trial  and  proof  of  my  gifts  before  the  remnant  of  the  congre- 
gation which  still  held  together."  * 

Ere,  however,  going  to  London,  lie  seems  to  have 
made  a  brief  visit  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  obtained 
from  the  Eev.  Dr.  Fleming,  one  of  the  most  highly 
esteemed  Evangelical  ministers  there,  a  letter  of  in- 
troduction to  Dr.  Waugh,  of  London,  which  I  have 

*  Dedication  of  the  Last  Days  to  W.  Dinwiddie,  Esq.,  Father 
of  the  Session  of  the  National  Scotch  Chiu-ch  ;  W.  Hamilton,  Esq., 
Secretary  of  the  Committee  for  building  the  National  Scotch  Chui'ch  ; 
and  to  the  other  members  of  the  Session  and  Committee. 

K  2 


\:V2  LKTTHi:    (M'    UITOMMFA'DATIOX. 

found  anions  otlior  papers  relating  to  liis  remcnal  lo 
London.     These  credentials  were  as  follows  : — 

"  Edinburgh,  13th  December,  1821. 

"  Dear  Sir, — Allow  me  to  introduce  to  you  ]\Ir.  Eihvard 
Irving,  preacher  of  the  gospel,  who  goes  to  TiOndon  on  invi- 
tation to  pnach  in  the  Caledonian  Chapel,  with  the  view  of 
being  called  to  take  the  psxstoral  charge  of  the  congregation 
assemljjiug  in  that  place.  I  need  not  tell  you  what  you  will 
at  once  perceive,  that  he  is  a  large  raw-boned  Scotchman, 
and  that  his  outward  appearance  is  rather  uncouth  ;  but  I  can 
tell  you  that  his  mind  is,  in  proportion,  as  large  as  his  body ; 
and  that  whatever  is  unprepossessing  in  his  appearance  \vill 
vanish  as  soon  as  he  is  known ;  his  mind  is,  1  had  almost 
said,  gigantic.  There  is  scarcely  a  branch  of  human  science 
which  he  does  not  grasp,  and  in  some  degree  make  his  own. 
As  a  scholar,  and  as  a  man  of  science,  he  is  eminently  distin- 
guished. His  great  talents  he  has  applied  successfully  to  the 
acquisition  of  professional  knowledge,  and  both  his  talents 
and  acquisitions  he  is,  I  believe,  sincerely  resolved  to  conse- 
crate to  the  service  of  his  ^eat  Master.  His  views  of  Scrip- 
ture truth,  while  they  are  comprehensive,  are,  in  my  judg- 
ment, sound.  His  exhibition  of  them,  indeed,  I  thought  at 
one  time  exceptionable,  as  too  refined  and  abstract  for  ordi- 
nary hearers  ;  but  that  was  when  he  contemplated  the  duties 
of  a  preacher  as  a  spectator,  being  ordinarily  occupied  mth 
other  important  avocations.  For  some  time  past,  however, 
be  has  been  actively  employed  in  the  vineyard,  in  the  charac- 
ter of  assistant  to  Dr.  Chalmers,  of  Glasgow,  and  it  is  no  small 
commendation  that  the  Doctor  is  in  the  highest  degree 
pleasefl  with  him  and  attracted  to  him.  His  connection  with 
the  Doctor  has  probably  accelerated  what  experience  would 
have  in  time  produced  in  a  man  of  his  mind  and  principles  : 
it  has  brought  him  down  to  the  level  of  plain,  sound  preach- 
ing. This  effect  has  been  still  further  promoted  in  the 
exercise  of  a  duty  which  he  has  had  to  perform,  visiting  the 
families  of  the  parish,  .and  conversing  \vith  them  about  their 
spirittial  interests.  This  was  a  duty  in  which  he  engaged 
with  great  zeal ;  and  he  hi  considered  as  possessing  a  particu- 


FAVOURABLE     PROGNOSTICATIONS.  133 

lar  faculty  for  performing  it.  A.s  a  man,  he  is  honourable, 
liberal,  independent  in  his  mind,  fearless  in  the  discharge  of 
his  duties,  and  exemplary  in  his  general  deportment.  In 
short,  taking  into  view  his  whole  character  and  qualifications, 
his  talents,  his  acquirements,  his  principles,  his  zeal,  and  his 
capacity  of  exertion,  I  know  nobody  who  seerns  better  fitted 
for  discharging  the  duties  of  a  gospel  minister  in  the  metro- 
polis, faithfully,  usefully,  and  respectably,  than  Mr.  Irving. 
...  If  you  can  be  of  any  service  to  Mr.  Irving,  either  with 
the  managers  of  the  chapel,  or  in  the  event  of  his  remaining 
in  London,  by  introducing  him  to  any  of  your  friends  in  the 
ministry,  I  shall  esteem  it  a  favour.  .  .  .  Mr.  Irving  has 
come  upon  me  unexpectedly,  and  I  have  barely  time  to  add 
that  I  am,  with  great  regard,  dear  sir,  yours  faithfully, 

"Thomas  FLEMma." 

The  kind  elaboration  of  this  old-fashioned  recom- 
mendatory letter,  written  in  days  when  people  thought 
it  worth  while  to  fiU  their  paper,  secured  Irvini^;  a 
friend ;  and  many  of  its  carefidly  detailed  particulars  are 
sadly  amusing  in  the  hght  of  all  the  after-revelations; 
as,  indeed,  the  calm  unconsciousness  with  which  an 
ordinary  man  holds  up  his  light  to  show  forth  the 
figure  of  an  Immortal  has  always  a  certain  ludicrous- 
pathetic  element  in  it.  Armed  with  this,  and  doubtless 
"with  various  others  which  have  not  escaped  obhvion, 
the  "  large  raw-boned  Scotchman  "  set  out  for  London, 
with  unconcealed  and  honest  eagerness.  Wliat  he 
wanted  was  not  a  benefice,  or  even  an  income,  for 
hopeless  enough  in  that  way  were  the  prospects  of  the 
httle  fainting  Scotch  Church,  buried  amid  the  crowded 
lanes  about  Holborn,  which  successive  vacancies  and 
discouragements  had  reduced  to  the  very  lowest  point 
at  which  it  could  venture  to  caU  itself  a  congregation. 
If  it  had  been  practicable  —  if,  as  Irving  himself  says, 


\M  lUVIXc'j*    nKSIRK    TO    no    TO    LONDON'. 

*'  the  limes  had  porniittccl,"  ilit^ro  cniiiiol  !»•  tlir  shghU-st 
doubt  tliat  tlie  vohemout  youn^i;  man  would  liavo  been 
content  to  ccMiinin  any  apostolie  liaiidieraiV  Avilh  his 
spiritual  ollice  ratlier  than  resign  that  longed-for  i)ulj)it, 
in  whieh  lie  eould  say  forth  unchecked  the  message  that 
wiis  in  him  ;  and  he  does  not  attempt  with  any  affected 
coyness  to  conceal  his  own  eager  tlesire  for  this,  (he 
first  independent  standing-ground  which  was  ever 
placed  fairly  in  his  power.  From  the  moment  that  he 
heard  of  it,  tlie  idea  seems  to  have  taken  full  ])ossession 
(»f  him.  Nowhere  else  could  lie  do  such  good  service 
to  his  Master's  cause.  Nowhere  could  the  human  am- 
bition which  possessed  him  find  readier  satisfaction. 
Nowhere  else  was  the  utterance  Avith  wliich  he  was 
overbrimming  so  deeply  needed.  lie  seems  to  have  felt 
with  magical  suddenness  and  certidnty  that  here  was 
liis  sphere. 

His  own  appreciatit)n  of  his  welcome  in  London,  and 
the  hopes  excited  in  his  mind  by  this  new  development 
of  afhairs,  may  be  learnt  from  the  following  letter,  ad- 
dressed to  his  much  regarded  ])upil  and  friend  Miss 
Welsh. 

"Glasgow,  34  Kent  Street,  9th  February,  1822. 

"  My  dear  and  lovely  Pupil, — Wlien  I  am  my  own  master, 
delivered  from  the  necessity  of  attending  to  engagements, 
ever  soliciting  me  npon  the  spot  where  I  am,  and  exhausting 
me  to  very  lassitude  before  the  evening,  when  my  friendly 
correspondence  should  commence,  then,  and  not  till  then, 
shall  I  be  able,  I  fear,  to  discharge  my  heart  of  the  oltligations 
which  it  feels  to  those  at  a  distance.  Do  excuse  me,  I  pray 
you,  by  the  memory  of  our  old  acquaintance,  and  an3;i:hing 
else  which  it  is  pleasant  to  remember,  for  my  neglect  to  you 
in  London,  and  not  to  you  alone,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  but  to 
every  one  whom  I  was  not  officially  bound  to  write  to,  even  ray 


HIS    PLEASURE   IN   HIS    RECEPTION   THERE.  135 

worthy  father.  Forget  and  forgive  it ;  and  let  us  be  esta- 
blished in  our  former  correspondence  as  if  no  such  sin  against 
it  had  ever  taken  place.  I  could  say  some  things  on  my  own 
behalf;  but  till  you  go  to  London,  which  I  hope  will  not  be 
till  I  am  there  to  be  a  brother  to  you,  you  could  not  at  all 
sympathise  with  them. 

"And  know  now,  though  late,  that  my  head  is  almost  turned 
with  the  approbation  I  received — certainly  my  head  is  turned ; 
for  from  being  a  poor  desolate  creature,  melancholy  of  suc- 
cess, yet  steel  against  misfortune,  I  have  become  all  at  once 
full  of  hope  and  activity.  My  hours  of  study  have  doubled 
themselves — my  intellect,  long  unused  to  expand  itself,  is 
now  awakening  again,  and  truth  is  revealing  itself  to  my  mind. 
And  perhaps  the  dreams  and  longings  of  my  fair  corre- 
spondent* may  yet  be  realised.  I  have  been  solicited  to 
publish  a  discourse  which  I  delivered  before  his  Eoyal  High- 
ness the  Duke  of  York ;  but  have  refused  till  my  appre- 
hensions of  truth  be  larger,  and  my  treatment  of  it  more 
accordinof  to  the  models  of  modern  and  ancient  times.  The 
thanks  of  all  the  directors  I  have  received  formally  —  the  gift 
of  all  the  congregation  of  the  Bible  used  by  his  Eoyal  High- 
ness. The  elders  paid  my  expenses  in  a  most  princely  style. 
My  countrymen  of  the  first  celebrity,  especially  in  art, 
welcomed  me  to  their  society,  and  the  first  artist  in  the  city 
drew  a  most  admirable  half-length  miniature  of  me  inaction. 
And  so,  you  see,  I  have  reason  to  be  vain. 

"  But  these  things,  my  dear  Jane,  delight  me  not,  save  as 
vouchsafements  of  my  Maker's  bounty,  the  greater  because 
the  more  undeserved.  Were  I  established  in  the  love  and 
obedience  of  Him,  I  should  rise  toweringly  aloft  into  the  re- 
gions of  a  very  noble  and  sublime  character,  and  so  would 
my  highly-gifted  pupil,  to  retain  whose  friendship  shall  be  a 
consolation  to  my  life:  to  have  her  fellowship  in  divine  am- 
bitions would  make  her  my  dear  companion  through  eternity. 

"  To  your  affectionate  mother,  whose  indulgence  gives  me 
this  pleasant  communication  with  her  daughter,  I  have  to  ex- 
press my  attachment  in  every  letter.     May  you  live  worthy 

*  He  refers  to  his  young  friend's  affectionate  prophecies  of  ]iis 
future  fame. 


1;>G  OBSTACLES. 

of  each  otlier,  mutual  stays  through  life,  douhly  endeared, 
becjuise  alone  together;  and  therefore  douhly  dutiful  to 
Him  who  is  the  husband  of  the  widow,  and  the  Father  of  the 
fatherless.  I  have  sent  this  under  cover  to  my  friend  T.  C, 
not  knowing  well  where  you  are  at  present.  If  in  Edinburgh, 
ofter  my  beuodictious  upon  your  uncle's  new  alliance.  I  hope  to 
be  in  Edinburgh  soon,  where  I  will  not  be  without  seeing  you. 
"  I  am,  my  dear  pupil, 

"  Your  affectionate  friend, 

"  Edward  Irving." 

"  Wlierewith  "  (namely,  with  tlie  trial  of  his  gifts) 
"being  satisfied,"  he  continues,  in  the  dedication  already 
quoted,  "  I  took  my  jouniey  homewards,  waiting  the 
good  pleasm-e  of  the  great  Head  of  the  Clinrch.  Many 
were  the  difficulties  and  obstacles  which  Jiataii  tlirew 
in  the  way,  and  which  threatened  hard  to  defeat  al- 
together our  desire  and  our  purpose  of  being  united 
in  one.  Amongst  others,  one,  which  would  have 
deterred  many  men,  was  my  inabihty  to  preach  in 
the  Gaelic  tonuue,  of  which  I  knew  not  a  word." 
This  absurd  stipulation  originated  in  the  connection 
of  the  Caledonian  Chapel  with  the  Caledonian  Asy- 
lum, the  directors  of  wliich  are  those  whom  he 
records  as  having  thanked  him  furmally — an  insti- 
tution originally  intended  for  the  orphan  children  of 
soldiers  and  sailors,  and  of  whose  officebearers  the 
Duke  of  York,  the  Commander-in-Chief,  was  president. 
This  institution  is  still  in  existence,  and  until  the  dis- 
ruption of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  still  sent  its  detach- 
ments of  children  into  the  galleries  of  the  National 
Scotch  Church,  built  to  replace  the  httle  Caledonian 
Cliapel.  But  at  that  period  it  was  its  connection  with 
the  great  charity  which  alone  gave  the  little   chapel 


THE   CALEDONIAN   ASYLUM.  137 

importance.  Other  Scotch  Churches,  more  floiirishmg 
and  prosperous,  were  m  existence;  but  the  chapel  in 
Hatton  Garden  had  a  trifling  parhamentary  allowance, 
in  direct  consideration  of  its  connection  with  the  Asylum, 
and  the  minister's  powers  of  preaching  Gaelic.  This 
initial  difficulty  called  forth  from  Irving  the  foUowing 
characteristic  letter : — 


"To  my  honoured  friends,  Mr.  Dinwiddie,  Mr.  Simpson, 
Mr.  Eobertson,  Mr.  HamiHon,  and  others  connected  with 
the  Caledonian  Chapel,  to  whom  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
being  known,  and  who  take  an  interest  in  my  coming  to 
London. 

"  GrENTLEMEN, — My  friend  Mr.  Laurie  has  called  to  report  to 
me  the  result  of  the  last  meeting  of  Directors  of  the  Asylum  ; 
and  as  Mr.  Hamilton  requested  him  to  make  it  known  to  me, 
I  feel  myself  called  upon  to  do  my  endeavour  to  make  you 
comfortable  under,  and  also  if  possible  to  extricate  you  from, 
the  embarrassment  in  which  you  may  feel  yourselves. 

"  First.  Let  my  interest  be  as  nothing.  The  Lord  will  pro- 
vide for  me ;  and  since  I  left  you  His  providence  has  presented 
me  with  the  offer  of  a  chapel  of  ease  in  Dundee,  with  the 
probable  reversion  of  the  first  vacant  living  in  the  place. 
This,  of  course,  I  refused.  The  people  of  New  York  are 
inquiring  for  me  to  succeed  the  great  Dr.  Mason — at  least  are 
writino'  letters  to  that  effect.  This  I  do  not  think  will  come 
to  any  head,  because  I  am  not  worthy  of  the  honour.  But  I 
mention  both  to  show  you  in  what  good  hands  my  fortune  is, 
when  it  is  left  to  Grod  alone. 

"  Secondly.  But  if,  for  the  interests  of  yom-  own  souls,  and 
religion  in  general,  and  the  Scotch  Church  in  particular,  you 
do  still  desire  my  services  among  you,  then  I  am  ready  at 
any  call,  and  almost  on  any  conditions,  for  my  own  spirit  is 
bent  to  preach  the  Gospel  in  London. 

"Thirdly.  If  the  gentlemen  of  the  Asylum  would  not  mistake 
for  importunity  and  seeking  of  a  place,  what  I  offer  from  a 
desire  to  mediate  peace,  and  benefit  the  best  interests  of  my 


138  TLKDCiKS    IllMSKLF    TO    LliARX    GAELIC. 

countryinm,  1  ]il(ilu^<'  myself  to  study  fiat-lic  :  .nid  if  T  cuniiot 
write  it  and  preach  it  iu  six  in«»iiths,  I  j^ive  tliciii  my  missive 
to  be  burdensome  to  them  no  lon<^er.  There  was  a  time  when 
the  consciousness  of  my  own  powers  wouhl  liave  made  it  seem 
as  meanness  so  to  condescend:  but  now  the  Knvness  of  con- 
descension for  Christ's  sake  I  feel  to  be  the  heij^ht  of  honour. 

"  Fourthly.  But  if  not,  and  you  are  meditating,  as  Mr. 
Hamilton  says,  to  obtain  another  phice  of  worship  to  which 
to  call  me,  then  be  assured  I  shall  not  be  difticult  to  persuade 
to  come  amongst  you;  and  I  shall  not  distress  your  means; 
but  content  with  little,  minister,  in  humble  dependence  upon 
God,  the  free  grace  of  the  Gospel. 

"  Finally,  gentlemen,  should  I  never  see  your  faces  any  more, 
ray  heart  is  towards  you,  and  my  prayers  are  for  you,  and  the 
blessing  of  the  Lord  God  shall  be  upon  us  all  if  we  seek  his 
face ;  and  we  shall  dwell  together  in  that  New  Jerusalem 
where  there  is  no  temple  and  no  need  of  any  pastors ;  but 
the  Lamb  doth  lead  them  and  feed  them  by  rivers  of  living 
waters,  and  wipes  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes. 

"  Commend  me  to  your  families  in  love  and  brotherhood, 
and  do  ye  all  regard  me  as 

"  Your  obliged  and  affectionate  friend, 

"  EuwAKD  Irving. 

"Glasgow,  21st  Februaiy,  1822." 

The  Directors  of  tlie  Caledonian  Asj^lum  were  not, 
however,  "  .so  far  left  to  themselves,"  as  we  say  in  Scot- 
land, as  to  in.'^ist  upon  the  six  months  of  Gaehc  study 
thus  heroically  volunteered.  The  Duke  of  York  ex- 
erted his  influence  to  set  aside  the  stipulation ;  and 
after  it  had  answered  its  purpose  in  stimulating  the 
waimth  of  both  parties,  and  adding  a  httle  more 
su.spense  and  uncertainty  to  Irving's  long  probation, 
the  difficulty  was  overcome.  Or  rather,  to  use  his 
o^\^l  words,  "  God,  having  proved  our  willingness,  was 
pleased  to  remove  this  obstacle  out  of  the  way."  Upon 
this  another  difficulty  arose.    It  is  a  rule  of  the  Church 


BOND  REQUIRED  BY  THE  PRESBYTERY.      139 

of  Scotland  not  to  ordain  any  minister  over  a  congre- 
gation until  they  are  first  certified  tliat  the  people  are 
able  and  prepared  to  provide  him  with  a  fit  income  — 
"  to  give  him  a  Uvelihood,"  as  Irving  says  simply.  This 
is  usually  done  in  the  form  of  a  bond,  submitted  to  the 
Presbytery  before  the  ordination,  by  which  the  stipend 
is  fixed  at  a  certam  rate,  which  the  officebearers  pledge 
themselves  to  maintain.  This  was  a  difficult  point  for 
the  poor  httle  handful  at  Hatton  Garden,  who  had  only 
been  able  to  keep  themselves  together  by  great  exer- 
tions, and  to  whom  only  the  valuable  but  scanty  nucleus 
of  fifty  adherents  belonged.  The  Presbytery  in  conse- 
quence demurred  to  the  ordination ;  and  once  more  the 
matter  came  to  a  temporary  standstill.  The  following' 
letter,  addressed  to  Mr.  Wilham  Hamilton,  one  of  the 
principal  members  of  the  Caledonian  Chapel,  will  show 
how  Irvinsf  re2;arded  this  new  obstruction: — 

"  My  DEAR  Sir, — Though  I  received  so  many  and  so  kind 
attentions  ft-oni  you  in  London,  the  great  diversity  of  my 
occupations,  and  my  frequent  visits  of  late  to  different  parts 
of  the  country,  in  the  prospect  of  removal,  have  hindered  me 
from  ever  presenting  my  acknowledgments,  not  the  less  felt 
be  assm-ed,  on  that  account.  The  confidence  and  frequency 
of  our  intercourse  makes  me  assured,  when  I  come  to  London, 
that  we  shall  find  in  each  other  steady  friends  ;  a,nd  it  is  de- 
lightful in  the  prospect  opening  up,  that  I  have  such  friends 
to  come  to.  The  bearer  is  my  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Warren 
Carlyle,  a  young  man  of  most  admirable  character,  both 
moral  and  religious.  He  is  in  London  on  business,  and  will 
be  able  to  inform  you  in  all  my  affairs.  I  am  doing  my 
utmost  to  get  the  Presbytery  to  consent  to  my  ordination 
without  a  bond,  and  I  hope  to  succeed.  But  if  they  will  not, 
I  come  in  June,  ordination  or  no  ordination  ;  and  if  they  are 
not  content  with  the  security  I  am  content  with,  then  I  shall 
be  content  to  do  without  their  ordination  and  seek  it  else- 


140  VISITS    TO    I'AISLKV. 

whore,  or  apply  for  it  after.      Hut  I  aui^nr  better ]Mr. 

Dinwiddle  nmst  uot  consider  lue  wan(in<;  in  affeetiou  (hat  it  is 
so  h>nL,'  since  I  wrote  to  him  personally  ;  assnri'  him  and  all  his 
family,    I    pray,   of  my  gralitnde    and   liii^di    regards,   which 

many  years,  1    trnst,  will  enable  me  to  testify May 

all  good  be  with  yon,  and  ni}'  other  ac(juaintances ;  and  may 
I  be  enabled,  when  I  come  among  you,  to  do  more  than  iuliil 
all  your  expectations, — till  which  happy  junction  may  we  be 
preserved  in  the  grace  of  the  Lord. 

"  Yours  most  affectionately, 

"  Edward  Irving. 
"  Paisley,  2-4th  April,  1822." 

To  Paisley,  from  wliich  this  letter  is  duted,  Irving 
was  in  tlie  liabit  of  walking  out  on  Saturday  afternoons, 
to  snatch  a  little  domestic  relaxation  at  the  tea-table  of 
the  familv  into  which  his  sister  luid  married;  and  liad 
a  liberal  habit  ul"  iii\  itiuu'  chance  fellow-travellers  wliom 
he  encountered  by  the  way  to  accompany  him,  occa- 
sionally to  tlie  considerable  confusion  and  amazement 
of  his  kind  hosts.  On  one  of  these  occasions  he  intro- 
duced a  stranger  of  shy  and  somewhat  gruff  demeanour, 
who  spoke  little,  whose  name  nobody  lieard  distinctly, 
and  wliom  tlie  good  people  set  down  as  some  chance 
pedestrian,  a  httle  out  of  liis  ease  in  "  good  society," 
whom  Irving  had  picked  up  on  the  way.  They  were 
not  undeceived  until  years  after,  when  a  member  of  the 
family,  then  in  London,  had  one  of  tJie  greatest  (jf  living 
authors,  Thomas  Carlyle,  reverentially  pointed  out  to 
her,  and  recognised,  with  horror  and  astonishment,  the 
doubtful  stranger  whom  she  had  entertained  and  smiled 
at  in  her  father's  liouse. 

The  "  bond,"  however,  which  Irving,  generous  and 
impetuous,  would  have  been  well  content  to  dispense 


REMOVAL    OF  OBSTACLES.  HI 

with,  but  which  the  prudent  Presbytery  insisted  upon, 
was  at  length  procured.  "Another  obstacle  to  my 
ordination  your  readiness,"  says  Irving  in  the  dedi- 
cation ah-eady  quoted,  "  without  any  request  of  mine, 
removed  out  of  the  way.  To  those  brethren  who  came 
forward  so  voluntarily  and  so  liberally  on  that  occasion, 
the  church  and  the  minister  of  the  church  are  much 
beholden;  and  all  of  us  are  beholden  to  God,  who 
useth  us,  in  any  way,  however  humble,  for  the  accom- 
phshment  of  his  good  purposes." 

Everything  was  now  settled,  and  only  the  necessary 
ecclesiastical  preliminaries  remained.  The  young  man 
was  at  the  highest  pitch  of  hope  and  anticipation.  As 
he  had  not  concealed  his  eagerness  to  go,  he  did  not 
conceal  the  high  expectations  with  which  he  entered 
the  longed-for  field.  Expressions  of  his  hopes  and 
projects  burst  forth  wherever  he  went  —  misconstrued, 
of  course,  by  many ;  received  ^vith  cold  wonder,  and 
treated  as  boasts  and  braggadocio ;  but  understood  and 
beheved  by  some.  And  the  only  evidence  of  other 
sentiments  which  appears  in  his  correspondence — con- 
tained m  a  letter  to  Dr.  Martin,  evidently  written  in  a 
moment  of  depression — still  characteristically  exliibits 
the  high  pitch  of  his  anticipations  : — "  There  are  a  few 
things  which  bind  me  to  the  world,  and  but  a  very 
few,"  writes  the  young  man  in  this  effusion  of  moment- 
ary weariness  ;  "  one  is  to  make  a  demonstration  for  a 
higher  style  of  Christianity,  something  more  magnani- 
mous, more  heroical  than  this  age  affects.  God  laiows 
with  what  success."  These  wonderftd  prophetic  words, 
written  in  some  moment  of  revulsion,  when  the  very 
height  of  satisfaction  and  triumph  had  brought  a  sud- 


142  KOt^NKATII. 

don  (loptli  (^f  toniporary  (lopivssion  to  liis  sensitive  soul, 
are  tlie  only  visil)k'   irarc   of  lliosf   clouds  which   enn 
never  be  wholly  banished  iVom  ihe  l)nghlest  Urmanienl. 
During  tlie  last  week  of  Ins  residence  in  Glasgow,  lie 
went   to   Eosneath    to    visit   and    take   farewell    of  his 
friend    'Mr.    Story,    accompanied    by    another   clerical 
friend,  who  went  with  him  in  wondei-  and  dread,  often 
inquiring  how  the  farewell  sermon,  which  was  to  be 
delivered   on   Sunday,   could  come   into    beinix.     This 
good  man  perceived  witli  dismay  that  Irving  was  not 
occupied  about  his  farewa^ll  sermon,  and  declared  with 
friendly  vexation  that  if  anything  worlliy  of  a  leave- 
taking  with  the  people  of  St.  John's  was  produced  by 
the  departing  preacher  under  such  circumstances,  he 
would  prove  himself '•  tlie  cleverest  man  in   Scotland." 
Imng,  however,  was  not  dismayed.     He  went  joyfully 
over  loch  and  hill  in  tliat  sweet  holiday  of  hope.     The 
world  was  all  before  him,  and  everything  was  possible, 
Xo  more  limits  except  those  of  the  truth,  nor  obliteration 
under  another  man's  shadow.    7VII  this  time  he  had  been 
but  painfully  fitting  and  ])utthig  his  arni(  mi- together ; 
now  he  wa.s  already  close  to  the  lists,  and  heard  the 
trumpets  of  the  battle,  with  laughter  like  that  of  the 
war-horse;  a  httlc  longer  and  he  should  be  in  the  field. 
One  day  in  this  hap])y  period,  when  going  about  the 
countiy  with  his  friend,  Irving,  active,  as  of  old,  and 
full  of  glee  and  energy,  leaped  a  gate  wliich  interposed 
in  their  way.     This  feat  took  the  minister  of  Eosneath 
a  little  by  surprise,  as  was  natural.   "  Dear  me,  Irving," 
he  exclaimed,  "  I  did  not  think  you  had  been  so  agile." 
Irs'ing  turned  upon  him  immediately,  "Qjice  I  read  y(Ai 
an  essay  of  mine,"  said  the  preacher,  "  and  you  said. 


HAPPY   ANTICIPATIONS.  143 

'  Dear  me,  Irving,  I  did  not  think  you  had  been  so 
classical ; '  another  time  you  heard  me  preach,  '  Dear 
me,  Irving,  I  did  not  know  you  had  so  much  imagina- 
tion.'    Now  you  shaU  see  what  great  thhigs  I  will  do 

yet!" 

In  this  state  of  exulting  expectation,  he  was  not 
more  patient  than  usual  of  the  ordinary  orthodoxy 
round  him.  While  himself  the  sincerest  son  of  his 
mother  Church,  and  loving  her  very  standards  with  a 
love  which  never  died  out  of  him,  he  was  always  in- 
tolerant of  the  common  stock  of  dry  theolog}^  and  the 
certified  soundness  of  duQ  men.  "  You  are  content  to 
go  back  and  forward  on  the  same  route,  like  this  boat," 
he  is  reported  to  have  said,  as  the  party  struck  across 
the  swelling  waters  of  the  Gair-loch  ;  "  but  as  for  me, 
I  hope  yet  to  go  deep  into  the  ocean  of  truth." 
Words  over-bold  and  incautious,  like  most  of  his  words ; 
yet  wonderfully  characteristic  of  the  unconcealed  ex- 
altation of  mind  and  hope  hi  which  he  was. 

So  he  returned  to  Glasgow,  stiU  accompanied  by  the 
alarmed  and  anxious  friend,  who  could  get  no  satisfac- 
tion about  his  farewell  sermon, —  such  an  occurrence 
as  this  solemn  leave-taking,  to  which  the  httle  world 
looked  forward,  was  an  event  in  the  history  of  the  parish. 
It  was  an  occasion  such  as  preachers  generally  make 
the  most  of,  and  in  which  natural  sentiment  permits 
them  a  httle  freedom  and  dehverance  from  the  ordinary 
restraints  of -the  pulpit.  And  it  was,  perhaps,  the  first 
opportunity  which  Irving  had  ever  had,  with  all 
eyes  concentrated  on  himself,  to  commmiicate  his 
thoughts  without  risk  of  the  inevitable  comparison,  or 
the  jealousy  equally  inevitable,  of  those  who  resented 


1J4  FAKKWHLL    SKU.MOX. 

tlie  idea  of  llioa.ssislant  atUMiipting  to  rival  'm1u>  Doctor." 
llr  was  mnv  iH)  longer   1  )|-.  Clialmers's  a.ssistant,  but  a 
Jjoiuloii    ministor   elect;    and   when   the    bonds   Avhicli 
bound   him  were  unloosed,  all   the  kindnesses  of  the 
past  ruslied  warm  ujion  tlie  memory  of  the  impulsive 
young  man.     lie  r:uuo  into  tlic  pulpit  glowing  with  a 
tender  ilush  of  gratitude  ;  his  discontent  and  weariness 
liad  dropped  off  from  him.  and  existed  no  longer  ;  ho 
remembered   only  the  love,  the  friendship,  the  good 
ollices,  the  access  he  had  obtained  to  many  hearts.     In 
that  sermon,  of  wdiich   his  companion  despaired,  tlie 
materials  requii'cd  little  research  or  arrangement.     The 
preacher  had  but  to  go  back  upon  his  own  life  of  two 
yeai^,  seen  in  tlie  warm  reviving  light  of  farewell  kind- 
ness.    He  stood  u]^  in  that  pidpit,  the  last  time  he  was 
to  occupy  it  by  right  of  his  present  position,  and  calmly 
told  the  astonished  hearers  of  his  own  unpopularity,  of 
their  forbearance  yet  not  applause,  of  the  "imperfections 
which  had  not  been  hid  from  their  eyes,"  yet  of  the 
brotherly  kindness  which  they,  and  especially  the  poor 
among  them,  had  shown  liim ;    and  proclaimed  the 
praises  of  his  leader  with  a  warmth  and  heartfelt  ful- 
ness which    distressed   and   overwlielmed   that   sober 
Scotsman,  unaccustomed  to  and  disapproving  of  such 
demonstrations  of  attachment.      Even  upon  that  un- 
enthusiastic  and  pre-occupied  audience,  this  i'arewell 
address  seems  to  have  made  an  impression.     He  left 
them  at  peace  witli  all   men  ;    and  forgetting,  as  his 
affectionate  temperament  had  a  faculty  for  forgetting, 
all  his  annoyances  and  discomforts  there.    This  farewell 
took  away  every  possibility  of  bitterness.     They  were 
all  his  friends  whom  he  left  behind,     He  gave  a  wide, 


OFFERS   HIS   SERVICES    IN   LONDON   TO   ALL.  145 

but  warm,  universal  invitation  to  all.  His  liouse,  his 
services,  all  that  he  could  do,  were  freely  pledged  to 
whosoever  of  those  parishioners  might  come  to  London 
aifd  stand  in  need  of  him.  He  meant  what  he  said, 
unguarded  and  imprudent  as  the  expression  was ;  and 
the  people  mstinctively  understood  that  he  did  so.  It 
was  thus  with  the  warmest  effusion  of  good-will  that  he 
left  Glasgow,  where,  as  in  every  other  place,  there  was 
no  lack  of  people  who  smiled  at  him,  were  doubtful 
of  him,  and  patronised  him  with  amusing  toleration ; 
but  where  nobody  now  or  then  had  an  unkind  word 
to  say. 

When  the  farewell  was  over,  and  the  sermon  had 
met  with  its  award,  that  good,  puzzled  companion,  who 
went  with  the  incomprehensible  preacher  to  Eosneath, 
confided  all  his  doubts  and  troubles  on  this  subject  to 
the  private  ear  of  a  sympathising  friend.  "  Such  a 
sermon  would  have  taken  me  a  week  to  write ! "  said 
this  bewildered  worthy.  Possibly  a  lifetime  would 
have  been  too  short  for  such  a  feat,  had  the  good  man 
but  known. 

Immediately  after  this  leave-taking  Irving  proceeded 
to  Annan,  to  his  ftxther's  house,  there  to  appear  once 
more  before  the  Presbytery  and  go  through  his  fmal 
"  trials  "  for  ordination.  He  chose  to  have  this  great 
solemnity  of  his  life  accomplished  in  the  same  church 
in  which  he  had  been  baptized,  and  in  which  a  third 
sad  act  awaited  him.  But  there  was  no  foreboding  in 
the  air  of  that  sweet  spring,  which  he  spent  in  a  kind 
of  retreat  of  calm  and  retirement  in  his  paternal  house. 
The  breathing-time  which  he  had  there,  as  well  as  the 
hopes  and  interests  whicli  pleasantly  agitated  it,  are 

VOL.  I.  L 


14r.  RKCKIVKS    A    FAKKWKLI,    rRKSKNT. 

(1o?cribo(l   in  ;i  \c\iov  addri'ssod   to  Iiis  IViiMul  and  i'lv- 
qiuMit  convspoiuk'Ht,  ^Ir.  ])avi(l  IIdjK'. 

"  Aiinnn,  2Sth  :\I;iy,  1822. 

"  I  am  snugly  seated  in  this  Temple  of  Indolence,  and  very 
loath  to  be  invaded  by  any  of  the  distractions  of  the  busy 
cit}*.  I  would  fain  devote  myself  to  the  enjoyment  of  our 
home  and  family,  and  to  meditate  from  a  distance  the  busy 
scene  I  have  left,  and  the  more  busy  scene  to  which  I  am 
bound.  M\"  mind  seems  formed  for  inactivity.  I  can  saunter 
the  whole  day  from  field  to  field,  riding  on  impressions  ;ind 
the  transient  thoughts  they  awaken,  with  no  companion  uf 
books  or  men,  saving,  perhaps,  a  little  nephew  or  niece  in  my 
hand. 

"  You  may  from  this  conceive  how  little  disposed  I  am  to 
Uike  any  task  in  hand  of  any  kind;  and  I  had  almost  resolved 
to  refuse  flatly  the  flattering  recjuests  of  my  friends  to  publisli 
that  poor  discourse ;  but  yesterday  there  came  such  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Collins,  full  of  argument  and  the  kindest  encourage- 
ment, that  I  have  resolved  to  comply,  and  shall  signify  my 
resolution  to  him  by  this  post. 

"  For  the  other  matter,  it  gives  me  the  most  exquisite  d(;light 
to  think  my  friends  remember  me  with  attachment.  That 
they  are  aljout  to  show  it  by  some  testimonial  I  should  per- 
haps not  have  known  till  I  received  it.  It  is  not  my  part  to 
make  a  choice  ;  but  if  I  were  to  think  of  anything,  it  would 
be  that  very  thing  which  you  mention.  But  of  this  say 
nothing  as  coming  from  me." 

Tlic  matter  liere  referred  t(j  was  a  pre.'^eiit  whicli 
some  members  of  St.  Jc^liii's  church  weie  dcsircjus  of 
making  hira.  It  was  decided  that  it  should  be  a  watch  ; 
and  I  have  been  told,  without,  however,  being  able  to 
vouch  for  the  entire  authenticity  of  the  story,  that  when 
the  matter  was  entirely  decided  upon,  and  the  money 
in  hand,  Irving  was  consulted  to  know  whether  lie  had 
any  particular  fancy  or  liking  in  tlie  matter.     He  had 


THE   ANNANDALE   WATCHMAKER.  147 

one,  and  that  was  characteristic.  He  requested  that  it 
should  be  provided  by  a  certain  watchmaker,  whose 
distinguishing  quahty  was  not  that  he  was  skilful  in  his 
trade,  but  that  he  was  an  Annandale  man.  The  good 
Glasgow  donors  yielded  to  tliis  recommendation ;  and 
Irving  had  the  double  dehght  of  receiving  a  very 
substantial  proof  of  his  friends'  attachment,  and  of 
throwing  a  valuable  piece  of  work  in  the  way  of  his 
countryman.  Whether  the  watch  itself  was  the  better 
for  the  arrangement  tradition  does  not  tell. 

While  the  prospect  of  this  tribute,  or  rather  of  the 
affection  which  it  displayed,  gave  him,  as  he  says, 
in  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  "  exquisite  dehght,"  the  piib- 
hcation  of  his  sermon  was  also  going  on.  But  the  dis- 
course, in  which  Irving  had  poured  out  all  the  generous 
exuberance  of  his  feehngs,  fell  into  dangerous  hands 
before  it  reached  the  public.  Mrs.  Chalmers  laid 
hold  upon  the  offending  manuscript ;  and  without 
either  the  consent  or  knowledge  of  the  writer,  cut 
down  its  panegyric  into  more  moderate  dimensions, 
—  a  proceeding  which  the  lucldess  author,  when  he 
came  to  know  of  it,  resented  deeply,  as  I  suspect  most 
authors  would  be  disposed  to  do.  "Eeturning  some 
months  afterwards  to  Glasgow,"  says  Dr.  Hanna,  in  his 
Life  of  Dr.  Chalmers.,  "  his  printed  sermon  was  handed 
to  Mr.  Irvmg,  who,  on  looking  over  it,  broke  out  into 
expressions  of  astonishment  and  indignation  at  the 
hberties  which  had  been  taken  with  his  production, — 
expressions  which  would  have  been  more  measured 
had  he  known  who  the  culprit  was."  Such  a  meddling 
with  his  first  publication  was  enough  to  try  the  temper 
of  the  meekest  of  men. 

-L   2 


us  A    ''SINGULAR    IIOXOUR." 

InuiKHlialoly  aftiT  liis  (mlinntion  ho  rcfiirncd  lo 
Glasgow,  and  lliere  assisted  Pr.  CIimIhums  in  llu' solcnui 
and  austere  pomp — (])onip,  nni  corlainly  of  onlwaid 
accessories,  yet  it  is  tlie  only  woid  l»y  wliicli  I  can 
describe  ihe  importance  given  lo  tlu'  lialf-yt'arly  occa- 
f<wn,  the  "  sacramental  season  "of  Scotch  piety,  sepa- 
rated as  it  is,  by  long  ai  ray  of  (Icvolionnl  services,  from 
the  ordinary  course  of  the  year) — of  a  Scottish  com- 
munion. Irving  liimself  describes  this  as  "having 
experienced  of  my  dear  friend  "Or.  Chalmers  the 
siuLTular  honour  of  administering  the  sacrament  to  his 
parish  Hock,  being  my  first  act  as  an  ordained  minister." 
It  was  a  graceful  conclusion  to  his  residence  in  Glasgow. 
From  thence  he  set  out,  amid  honour  and  good  wishes, 
with  the  highest  hopes  in  his  mind,  and  charity  in  his 
heart,  on  the  morning  of  the  8th  of  July,  1822,  to 
Loudon.  'J  lie  fului'e  seems  lo  luive  glowed  before  Jiim 
with  all  the  indefinite  brightness  of  early  youth.  Cer- 
tainly that  little  chapel  in  London,  in  those  dread  wastes 
id)out  Ilolborn,  far  out  of  hearing  of  the  great  world 
as  might  have  been  supposed,  with  fifty  undistinguished 
members,  to  their  own  knowing  strenuous  Scotch 
churchmen,  but  so  far  as  the  great  iiidifferent  com- 
nmnity-  about  them  was  concerned,  lost  in  the  crowd  of 
Dissenting  chapels,  nameless  and  unknowji  ])laces  of 
worsliip — had  little  in  itself  to  lift  the  anticipations  of 
its  minister  Uj  any  hupeilalive  lieigliL ;  noj'  did  Jic  carry 
with  liim  any  comforting  consciousness  of  success; 
unflattered,  undeceived,  fully  aware  and  never  scruphng 
to  confess  that  his  preaching  liad  hitlieilo,  except  in 
individual  cases,  been  little  more  than  tolerated,  it  might 
liavc  been  supposed  a  very  homely  and  sombre  per- 


GOES   TO    LONDON.  149 

spective  wliicli  opened  before  this  yoiing  man.  So  far 
as  actual  realities  were  concerned,  it  was  so ;  but  the 
instinct  of  his  heart  contradicted  reahty,  and  showed,  in 
wonderful  indefinite  vision,  some  great  thing  that  was  to 
come.  He  calls  himself  "  a  man  unknown,  despised,  and 
almost  outcast ; — a  man  spoken  against,  suspected,  and 
avoided ;  "  yet,  withal,  proceeds  to  his  obscure  corner  of 
that  great  wilderness  of  men,  in  which  so  many  men, 
greater  than  he  could  pretend  to  be,  had  been  swallowed 
up  and  lost,  with  a  certain  meffable  expectation  about 
him  which  it  is  impossible  to  describe,  but  which 
shines  through  every  word  and  action.  He  did  not 
foresee  how  it  was  to  come  ;  he  could  not  have  pro- 
phesied that  all  London  woidd  stir  to  the  echoes  of  his 
voice.  All  that  memorable  tragic  life  that  lay  solemnly 
waiting  for  him  among  the  multitudinous  roofs  was  hid 
in  the  haze  of  an  illumination  which  never  takes  visible 
shape  or  form.  But  Nature,  prevoyant,  tingled  into 
his  heart  an  inarticulate  thrill  of  prophecy.  He 
went  forth  joyfully,  wittingly,  aware  of  all  the  hazards 
of  that  battle,  into  the  deepest  of  the  fight — amid  all 
the  exaltation  of  his  hopes,  never  without  a  touch  of 
forlorn  dignity,  acknowledged  without  any  bitterness, 
the  consciousness  of  a  man  who,  however  he  might 
triumph  hereafter,  had  known  many  a  defeat  already. 
Thus  Irving  went  out  of  his  youth  and  obscurity,  out 
of  trials  and  probation  not  often  exceeded,  to  the 
solemn  field  full  of  hghts  and  shadows  greater  than  he 
dreamt  of,  where  his  course,  for  a  time,  was  to  be  that 
of  a  conqueror,  and  where,  at  last,  like  other  kings  and 
victors  before  him,  he  was  to  fall,  dauntless  but  mortal, 
with  the  loss  of  all  save  honour. 


1 :.() 


ciurTErv  VI 1. 

LONDON,    1822. 

"On  the  second  Sabbatli  of  July,  1822,"  Trviiig  l)cgan 
liis  lal)oiirs  in  London.  Tlic  lifty  people  who  had 
signed  his  call,  with  !?nch  dq)endents  as  might  belong 
to  them,  and  a  stray  sprinkling  of  London  Scotsmen, 
curious  to  hear  what  their  new  countryman  might  have 
to  say  for  himself,  formed  all  the  congregation  in  the  little 
chapel.  The  ])osition  was  not  one  calculated  to  excite 
the  holder  ( )f  it  into  any  flights  of  ambition,  so  far  as 
its  own  qualities  went.  It  was  far  from  the  fashionable 
and  influential  quarter  of  the  town, — a  chapel  attached 
to  a  charity,  and  a  congregation  reduced  t(j  the  very 
lowest  ebb  in  point  of  numbers.  Nor  did  Irving  enter 
upon  his  career  widi  those  aids  of  private  friendsliij) 
which  might  make  an  ordinary  man  sanguine  of  in- 
creasing his  estimation  and  social  sphere.  Sir  David 
Wilkie  records  liis  behef  that  tlie  new  preacher  had 
introductions  only  to  liimself  and  Sir  Peter  Lawrie, 
neither  of  them  likely  to  do  much  in  the  way  of  opening 
up  London,  gi'cat,  proud,  and  critical,  to  the  unknown 
Scotsman ;  and  though  tliis  statement  may  not  be 
entirely  correct,  yet  it  is  evident  that  he  went  with  few 
recommendations,  save  to  the  little  Scotch  community 
amidst  which,  as  people  supposed,  he  was  to  live  and 


FIRST   APPEARANCE.  151 

labour.  There  are  stories  extant  among  that  community 
still,   concerning   the  early   begmuings    of    his   fame, 
which,  after  all  that  has  passed  since,  are  sadly  amusing 
and  strange,  with  then*  dim  recognition  of  some  popular 
quahties  in  the  new  minister,  and  mutual  congratula- 
tions over  a  single  adherent  gained.     Attracted  by  the 
enthusiastic  admiration  expressed  by  a  painter  almost 
unknown  to  fame,  of  the  noble  head  and  bearing  of 
the  new  comer,  another  painter  was  induced  to  enter 
the  httle  chapel  where  the  stranger  preached  his  first 
sermon.      When  the   devotional   services   were   over, 
— beginning  with  the  Psalm,  read  out  from  the  pulpit, 
in  a  voice  so  splendid  and  melodious  that  the  harsh 
metres  took  back  their  original  rhythm,  and  those  verses 
so  dear  to  Scotsmen  justified  their  influence  even  to 
more  fastidious  ears, — the  preacher  stood  up,  and  read 
as   the   text  of  Ms   sermon   the    following   words : — 
"  Therefore  came  I  unto  you  without  gainsaying,  as  soon 
as  I  was  sent  for.     I  ask  you,  therefore,  for  what  in- 
tent you  have  sent  for  me  ?  "    The  sermon  has  not  been 
preserved,  so  far  as  I  am  aware ;  but  the  text — remem- 
bered as  almost  all  Irving's  texts  are  remembered  — 
conveys  all  the  picturesque  reahty  of  the  connection 
thus  formed  between  the  preacher  and  his  people,  as 
well  as  the  solemn  importance  of  the  conjunction.    The 
listening  stranger  was  of  course  fascinated,  and  became 
not  only  a  member  of  Mr,  Irving's  church,  but — more 
faithful  to  the  Church  than  to  the  man, —  a  supporter  of 
the  Church  of  Scotland  after  she  had  expelled  him. 

By  gradual  degrees  the  little  chapel  began  to  fill. 
So  far  as  appears,  there  was  nobody  of  the  least  distinc- 
tion  connected   with   the   place ;    and  it  is   hard   to 


\3-2  SATISFACTION    WITH    HIS    XKW   SriIEKK. 

luulerstaiul  lunv  tlie  cfi'oat  worlil  came  so  mucli  as  lo 
lic'iir  of  tlie  existence  of  the  new  jiopulnrity.  Tliis 
quiet  period,  full  of  deep  hopes  ;uid  ])leiisant  progress, 
l)ut  as  yet  with  none  of  the  hi-jfh  excitement  of  after 
days,  lr\"iug  himself  describes  in  the  rolluwing  letter  Lo 
liis  friend,  ^Ii\  Graham,  of  Burnswark  :  — 

"  London,  10  Gloucester  Street,  Queen  S(juarc, 
"  Bloomsbury,  5th  August,  1822. 

"  ^Iy  very  dear  Friend,  —  I  have  not  forgot  you,  und  if  T 
wished  to  forget  you  I  could  not,  sealed  as  you  are  in  the  midst 
of  my  affections,  £md  associated  with  so  many  recollections  of 
worth  and  of  enjoyment.  You  always  undervalued  yourself, 
and  often  made  me  angry  by  your  remarks  upon  the  nature 
of  our  friendship,  counting  me  to  gain  nothing ;  whereas  I 
seemed  always  in  your  company  to  be  delivered  into  those 
happy  and  healtliy  states  of  mind  which  are  in  themselves  an 
exquisite  reward.  To  say  nothing  of  your  boimty,  which 
shone  through  all  the  cloud  of  misfortune ;  to  say  nothing  of 
your  tender  interest  in  my  future,  my  friends,  my  thoughts ; 
and  your  sleepless  endeavour  to  promote  and  serve  them — I 
liold  your  own  manly,  benignant,  and  delicate  mind  to  Ijc  a 
sufficient  recommendation  of  you  to  men  of  a  character  and  a 
genius  I  have  no  pretensions  to.  So  in  our  future  corre- 
spondence be  it  known  to  you  that  we  feel  and  express  our- 
selves as  equals,  and  bring  forth  our  thoughts  with  the  same 
liberty  in  which  we  were  wont  to  express  them — which  is  the 
soul  of  all  pleasant  correspondence. 

"You  cannot  conceive  how  happy  I  am  here  in  the  possession 
of  my  owTi  thoughts,  in  the  liljcrty  of  my  own  conduct,  and 
in  the  favour  of  the  Lord.  The  people  have  received  me 
with  open  arms ;  the  church  is  already  regularly  filled ;  my 
preaching,  though  of  the  average  of  an  hour  and  a  quarter, 
listened  to  with  the  most  serious  attention.  My  mind  plenti- 
fully endowed  with  thought  and  feeling — my  life  ordered,  as 
God  enables  me  after  his  holy  Word — my  store  supplied  out 
of  His  abundant  liberality.  These  are  the  elements  of  my 
happiness,   for  which   I    am    bound   to  render  unmeasured 


HIS   THOUGHTS   AND    HOPES.  153 

thanks.  Would  all  my  friends  were  as  mercifully  dealt  with, 
and  mine  enemies  too. 

"  You  have  much  reason  for  thankfulness  that  Grod,  in  the 
time  of  your  sore  trials,  sustained  your  honour  and  your 
trust  in  Himself:  nay,  rather  made  you  trust  in  Him  the  more 
He  smote  you.  His  time  of  delivery  will  come  at  leDgth, 
when  you  shall  taste  as  formerly  His  goodness,  and  enjoy  it 
with  a  chastened  joy,  which  you  had  not  known  if  you  had 
never  been  afflicted  :  persevere,  my  dear  friend,  in  the  ways 
of  godliness  and  of  duty,  until  the  grace  of  Grod,  which  grows 
in  you,  come  to  a  full  and  perfect  stature. 

"  For  my  thoughts,  in  which  you  were  wont  to  take  such 
interest,  they  have  of  late  turned  almost  entirely  inward  upon 
myself ;  and  I  am  beginning  dimly  to  discover  what  a  mighty 
change'  I  have  yet  to  undergo  before  I  be  satisfied  with  my- 
self. I  see  how  much  of  my  mind's  very  limited  powers  have 
been  wasted  upon  thoughts  of  vanity  and  pride ;  how  little 
devoted  to  the  study  of  truth  and  excellency  upon  their  own 
account.  As  I  advance  in  this  self-examination,  I  see  farther, 
until,  in  short,  this  life  seems  already  consumed  in  endeavours 
after  excellence,  and  nothing  attained :  and  I  long  after  the 
world  where  we  shall  know  as  we  are  known,  and  be  free  to 
follow  the  course  we  approve,  with  an  unimpeded  foot.  At 
the  same  time  I  see  a  life  full  of  usefulness,  and  from  my 
fellow-creatures,  full  of  glory,  which  I  regard  not ;  and  of  all 
places  this  is  the  place  for  one  of  my  spirit  to  dwell  in.  Here 
there  are  no  limitations  to  my  mind's  highest  powers ;  here, 
whatever  schemes  are  worthy  may  have  audience  and  exami- 
nation ;  here,  self-denial  may  have  her  perfect  work  in  midst 
of  pleasures,  follies,  and  thriftless  employments  of  one's  time 
and  energies.  Oh,  that  Grod  would  keep  me,  refine  me,  and 
make  me  an  example  to  this  generation  of  what  His  grace  can 
produce  upon  one  of  the  worst  of  His  children  ! 

"  I  have  got  three  very  good,  rather  elegant  apartments, — 
a  sitting-room,  a  bed-room,  and  dressing-room  :  and  when 
Greorge  *  comes  up,  I  have  one  of  the  attics  for  his  sleeping 

*  His  younger,  and  then  only  surviving  brother,  of  whom  and  of 
whose  education  he  seems  fi-om  this  time  to  have  taken  the  entire 
burden. 


154  OUTSET    IN'    LIFK. 

npartiiKMit.  My  landlady,  as  usual,  a  very  worth}-  woman, 
and  likely  to  be  wtli  (■(•ntcnt  with  her  ludger.  (ieorge  conies 
up  when  the  cliusses  sit  down,  and  in  the  meantime  is  busy  in 
Dr.  Irvinu^'s  shoj).  This  part  of  the  town  is  very  airy  and 
healthy,  cUise  to  Kussell  ISiiuare,  and  not  far  from  the  church, 
and  in  the  midst  of  my  friends.  ]\Iy  studies  begin  after 
breakfast,  and  continue  without  interruption  till  dinner;  and 
the  product,  as  might  be  expected,  is  of  a  far  superior  order 
to  what  you  were  pleased  to  admire  in  St.  John's." 

This  letter,  after  salutations  as  particular  and  de- 
tailed as  ill  an  apostolical  epistle,  ends  witli  tlie  in- 
junction to  "  tell  me  a  deal  about  Annandale,  Sandy 
Corne,  and  all  ■worthy  men,"  His  correspondent,  like 
himself,  was  an  Annandule  nuui,  a  Glasgow  niereliaiit, 
with  a  little  patrimony  upon  the  side  of  one  of  those 
pastoral  liills  wliich  overlook  from  a  distance  Irving's 
native  towii.  Avliei'e  George,  a  young  medical  student, 
was  l)usy  among  the  drugs  in  the  country  doctor's 
shop;  amid  all  the  exultation  of  his  liopes,  as  well  as 
in  the  fullest  tide  of  success,  his  heart  was  always  warm 
to  tills  "  countryside." 

About  a  montli  later,  Dr.  Clialmers,  then  making 
one  of  his  rapid  journeys  through  England,  collecting 
the  statistics  of  pauperism,  came  to  London  for  the 
purpose  of  "introducing,"  according  to  Presbyterian 
uses  and  phraseology,  though  in  this  case  somewhat 
after  date,  the  young  minister  to  his  charge.  This 
simple  ceremony,  which  is  entirely  one  of  custom, 
and  not  of  rule,  is  generally  performed  by  the  most 
pi-ized  friend  of  tlie  new  preacher  —  who  simply 
officiates  for  him,  and  in  liis  sermon  takes  the  oppor- 
timity  of  recommending,  in  such  terais  as  his  friendship 
suggests,  the  young  pastor  to  die  lo\e  and  esteem  of 


CHALMEES   IN    LONDON.  155 

his  people.  Nobody  could  be  better  qualified  to  do 
this  than  Irving's  master  in  their  common  profession ; 
and  it  is  creditable  to  both  parties  to  note  how  they 
mutually  sought  each  other's  assistance  at  such  eventful 
moments  of  their  life.  Dr.  Chalmers  writes  to  his 
wife  on  arriving  in  London  that  he  found  Irving  "  in 
good  takmg  with  his  charge.  He  speculates  as  much 
as  before  on  the  modes  of  preaching ;  is  quite  inde- 
pendent with  his  own.  people,  and  has  most  favourably 
impressed  such  men  as  Zachary  Macaulay  and  Mr. 
Cunningham  with  the  conception  of  his  talents.  He  is 
happy  and  free,  and  withal  making  his  way  to  good 
acceptance  and  a  very  good  congregation."  Such,  as 
yet,  was  the  modest  extent  of  all  prognostications  in 
his  favour.  The  good  Doctor  goes  on  to  relate  how 
he  was  delighted  to  find  that  Irving  had  been  asked  to 
dine  with  him  in  the  house  of  a  Bloomsbury  M.P.  ; 
evidently  rejoicing  in  this  opening  of  good  society  to 
his  friend  and  disciple.  The  two  returned  together  to 
Irving's  lodgmgs  after  this  dimier,  and  found  there  a 
hospitably-received,  but  apparently  not  too  congenial 

guest,  "  Mr. ,  the  singularity  of  whose  manners  you 

were  wont  to  remark,  who  is  liis  guest  at  present  from 
Glasgow.  This,"  remarks  Dr.  Chalmers,  "  is  one  fruit 
of  Mr.  Irving's  free  and  universal  invitation ;  but  I  am 
glad  to  find  that  he  is  quite  determined  as  to  visits, 
and  apparently  not  much  annoyed  with  the  intrusion 
of  callers."  This  is  not  the  only  evidence  of  the  im- 
prudent hberality  of  Irving's  farewell  invitation  to  the 
entire  congregation  of  St.  John's.  About  the  same 
time,  to  select  one  instance  out  of  many,  a  poor  man 
came   to   him   seeking  a  situation,   "a  very  genteel. 


156  ArrEALS   TO    IRVIXG'S   SY.MrATIlY. 

rospcctable-loukiiig  yoiiii^  inan,"«ays  the  compassionate 
prcaclier,  wlio  refers  liiiii,  in  a  letter  full  of  beseecliing 
synijxitliy,  to  his  universal  assistant  and  resource  in  all 
troubles  —  tlie  good  Wil]i;nn  ILunilton.  Such  peti- 
tioners came  in  multitudes  througli  all  his  after-hfe  — 
receiving  sometimes  hospitality,  sometimes  advice  — 
recommendations  to  other  people  more  hkely  to 
help  them  —  kindness  always.  Such  troubles  come 
readily  enough  of  themselves  to  the  clergymen  of  a 
popular  church  ;  but  the  imprudence  of  inviting  them 
was  entu'ely  characteristic  of  a  man  who  woidd  have 
sensed  and  entertained  the  entire  world,  if  he  could. 

The  next  Sunday,  when  Dr.  Chalmers  preached,  the 
little  Cross  Street  chui'ch  was,  of  course,  crowded. 
Wilkie,  the  most  tenacious  of  Scotsmen,  had  been 
already  led  to  attendance  upon  Irving's  ministrations, 
and  was  there,  accompanied  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence, 
to  hear  his  still  greater  countryman.  But  the  brilliant 
crowd  knew  nothing  yet  of  the  other  figure  in  that 
pulpit ;  and  "svent  as  it  came,  a  passing  meteor.  After 
this,  Dr.  Chalmers  concludes  his  estimate  of  his  former 
colleague's  condition  and  prospects  in  tlie  fohowing 
words :  "  Mr.  Ining  I  left  at  Ilomerton,  and  as  you 
are  interested  in  him  I  may  say,  once  for  all,  that  he 
is  prospering  in  his  new  situation,  and  seems  to  feel  as 
if  in  that  very  station  of  command  and  congeniahty 
whereunto  you  have  long  known  him  to  aspire.  I 
hope  that  he  ^vilI  not  hurt  his  usefulness  by  any  kind 
of  eccentricity  or  impnidence."  In  these  odd  and 
characteristic  words  Dr.  Chalmers,  always  a  little  im- 
patient and  puzzled  even  in  his  kindest  moments  about 
a  man  so  undeniably  eminent,  yet  so  entirely  unhke 


TEOGEESS   IN   POPULAEITY.  157 

himself,  dismisses  Irving,  and  proceeds  upon  his  sta- 
tistical inquiries. 

Meanwhile,  m  this  station  of  "  command  and  con- 
geniahty,"  as  Chalmers  so  oddly  terms  it,  Irvmg  made 
swift  and  steady  way.  Writing  at  a  later  period  to  his 
congregation,  he  mentions  a  year  as  having  passed 
before  the  tide  of  popularity  swelled  upon  them  beyond 
measure  ;  but  this  must  have  been  a  failure  of  memory, 
for  both  the  preacher  and  congregation  were  much 
earher  aware  of  the  exceeding  commotion  and  interest 
awakening  around  them.  He  expresses  his  own  con- 
sciousness of  this  very  simply  in  another  letter  to  his 
friend  David  Hope. 

"  19  Gloucester  Street,  Queen  Square, 
"  5tli  November,  1822. 

"My  dear  Feiend, — You  have  too  good  reason  to  complain  of 
me,  and  a  thousand  more  of  my  Scottish  friends ;  but  be  not 
too  severe ;  you  shall  yet  find  me  in  London  the  same  true- 
hearted  fellow  you  knew  me  in  Glasgow But  I  had 

another  reason  for  delaying ;  I  wished,  when  I  did  write,  to  be 
able  to  recount  to  you  an  exact  account  of  my  success.  Tliank 
God,  it  seems  now  beyond  a  doubt.  The  church  overflows 
every  day,  and  they  already  begin  to  talk  of  a  right  good 
Kirk,  worthy  of  our  mother  and  our  native  countr}^  But 
into  these  vain  speculations  I  have  little  time  to  enter,  being 
engrossed  with  things  strictly  professional.  You  are  not  more 
regular  at  the  counting-house,  nor,  I  am  sure,  sooner  (^Anglice 
earher),  neither  do  you  labour  more  industriously,  till  four 
chaps  from  the  Eam's  Horn  Kirk  *,  than  I  sit  in  to  this  my 
study,  and  occupy  my  mind  for  the  benefit  of  my  flock.  The 
evening  brings  more  engagements  with  it  than  I  can  over- 
take, and  so  am  I  kept  incessantly  active.  My  engagements 
have  been  increased,  of  late,  by  looking  out  for  a  house  to 
dwell  in.     I  am  resolved  to  be  this  Ishmaelite  no  longer,  and 

*  One  of  the  Glasgow  churches,  popularly  so  called. 


158  "OUR   SCOlTlSll    YOUTH. 

to  have  a  station  of  my  own  npon  the  face  of  the  earth.  So 
a  new  year  will  see  me  fixed  in  my  own  habitation,  where 
there  will  be  ever  welcome  entertainment  for  him  who  was  to 
me  for  a  Itrother  at  the  time  of  my  sojourning  in  Glasgow. 
When  I  look  back  upon  those  happy  years,  I  could  almost 
wish  to  live  them  over  again,  in  order  to  have  anew  the  in- 
stances I  then  received  of  true  brotherly  kindness  from  you 
and  so  many  of  your  townsmen. 

"  You  would  be  overjoyed  to  hear  the  delight  of  our  Scot- 
tish youth,  wliich  they  express  to  me,  at  being  once  more 
gathered  together  into  one,  and  the  glow  with  which  they 
speak  of  their  recovered  habits.  This  is  the  beginning,  I 
trust,  of  good  amongst  them.  So  may  the  Lord  grant  in 
His  mercy  and  loving-kindness. 

"  Xow^  I  wish  to  know  about  yourself — how  all  your  affairs 

prosper I  could  speculate  much  upon  the  excellent 

fruit  season,  and  the  wretched  oil  season ;  but  you  would 
laugh  at  my  ignorance.  And  there  is  something  more  valu- 
able to  be  speculated  upon.  I  do  hope  you  prosper  in  the 
one  thing  needful,  under  your  most  valuable  pastor ;  and  also 
my  dear  friend  Giaham.  Give  my  love  to  him,  and  say  I 
have  not  found  time  to  answer  his  letter  ;  but  if  this  thing 
of  settlement  were  off  my  mind,  I  should  get  into  regular 
ways.  Do  not  punish  me,  but  write  me  with  all  our  news ; 
and  believe  me,  my  dear  David, 

"  Your  most  affectionate  friend, 

"  Edward  Irving." 

The  imiuediate  origin  of  Irving's  popularity,  or  ratlier 
of  the  flood  of  noble  and  fashionable  hearers  who  poured 
in  upon  the  little  chapel  in  Ilatton  Garden  all  at  once, 
■without  warning  or  premonition,  is  said  to  have  been  a 
speech  of  Canning's.  Sir  James  Mackintosh  had  been 
by  some  unexpected  circumstance  led  to  hear  the 
new  preacher,  and  heard  Irving  in  his  prayer  de- 
scribe an  unknown  family  of  orphans  belonging 
to  the  obscure  congregation,  as  now   "  tln^own   upon 


CANNING   AND    MACKINTOSH.  159 

the  fatherhood  of  God."  The  words  seized  upon 
the  mind  of  the  philosopher,  and  he  repeated  them  to 
Canning,  who  "  started,"  as  Mackintosh  rehites,  and, 
expressing  great  admiration,  made  an  instant  engage- 
ment to  accompany  his  friend  to  the  Scotch  church 
on  the  foUowing  Sunday.  Shortly  aftei",  a  dis- 
cussion took  place  in  the  House  of  Commons,  in 
which  the  revenues  of  the  Chmxh  were  referred  to, 
and  the  necessary  mercantile  relation  between  high 
talent  and  good  pay  insisted  upon.  No  doubt  it  suited 
the  statesman's  purpose  to  instance,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  question,  the  little  Caledonian  chapel  and  its 
new  preacher.  Canning  told  the  House  that,  so  far 
from  universal  was  this  rule,  that  he  himself  liad  lately 
heard  a  Scotch  minister,  trained  in  one  of  the  most 
poorly  endowed  of  churches,  and  estabhshed  in  one  of 
her  outlying  dependencies,  possessed  of  no  endowment 
at  all,  preach  the  most  eloquent  sermon  that  he  had  ever 
listened  to.  The  curiosity  awakened  by  this  speech  is 
said  to  have  been  the  first  beginning  of  that  mvasion 
of  "  society  "  which  startled  Hatton  Garden  out  of  itself. 
This  first  year,  however,  of  his  residence  in  London 
was  so  far  obscure  that  he  had  as  yet  opened  his  voice 
only  in  the  pulpit,  and  had  consequently  given  the 
press  and  its  vassals  no  vantage  ground  on  which  to 
assail  him.  It  is  perhaps,  with  the  new  publicity  which 
his  first  publication  brought  upon  him  in  view,  that  he 
reminds  his  people  how  "  for  one  year  or  nearly  so, 
beginning  with  the  second  Sabbath  of  July,  1822,  our 
imion  Avent  on  cementing  itself  by  mutual  acts  of 
kindness,  in  the  shade  of  that  happy  obscurity  which 
we  then  enjoyed.     And  I  dehght  to  remember  that 


160  IIAITY    Oll^ClUlTV. 

seasou  ol' our  early  lovo  and  coiilulcnce,  because  llie 
noisy  tongues  of  men  and  tlieir  envious  eyes  were  not 
upon  us."  Willi  llie  best  will  in  tlic  world  newspapers 
can  take  but  little  notice  of  a  popular  preacher,  and 
periodicals  of  liiglier  rank  none  at  all.  so  that  it  was 
merely  i)rivatc  criticism  which  commented  upon  the 
great  new  voice  rising  up  in  the  heart  of  London.  Be- 
sides the  \'ague  general  facts  of  the  rapidly  raised 
entliusia,"<m,  of  a]:)plications  for  seats  in  the  little  Cale- 
donian chapel,  which  would  only  accommodate  about 
six  hundred  people,  rising  in  one  quarter  to  fifteen 
hundi'cd,  and  Irving's  o^vn  simple  and  gratified  intima- 
tion that  "  the  chui'ch  overflows  every  day,"  there  is 
very  httle  certain  information  to  be  obtained  of  that 
first  year  of  his  progress  in  London.  Thirty  Sermons, 
taken  doAvii  in  shorthand  by  W.  J.  Oxford,  but  pub- 
lished only  in  1835,  after  Irving's  death,  and  forming 
the  second  volume  of  Irving's  Life  and  Works  —  a 
production  evidently  got  up  to  catch  the  market  at  tlie 
moment  of  his  death  —  contains  the  only  record  re- 
maining to  us  of  his  early  eloquence.  Nobody  who 
■reads  these  sermons,  imperfect  as  they  must  l^e  from 
the  channel  through  which  they  come,  A\ni  wonder  at 
the  rising  glow  of  excitement  which,  when  a  second 
year  set  in,  brought  all  London  struggling  for 
places  to  the  Httle  Scotch  church,  abeady  fully  occu- 
pied by  its  own  largely  increased  congregation.  They 
have,  it  is  ti-ue,  no  factitious  attractions,  and  genius, 
all  warm  and  eloquent,  has  preached  before  with- 
out such  results;  but  the  reader  will  not  fail  to  see 
the  great  charm  of  the  preacher's  life  and  labours 
already  glowing  palpable  through  those  early  procla- 


THE    "  HAPPY   WARRIOR.  161 

mations  of  liis  message.  Heart  and  soul,  body  and 
spirit,  the  man  who  speaks  comes  before  us  as  we 
read;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  first  thrill  of  that 
charm  which  soon  moved  all  London,  and  the  fascina- 
tion of  which  never  wholly  faded  from  Irving's  im- 
passioned hps,  lay  in  the  fact  that  it  was  not  mere 
genius  or  eloquence,  great  as  their  magic  is,  but 
something  infinitely  greater  —  a  man,  all  visible  in 
those  hours  of  revelation,  striving  mightily  with 
every  man  he  met,  in  an  entu^e  personal  unity 
which  is  possible  to  very  few,  and  which  never 
fails,  where  it  appears,  to  exercise  an  influence  superior 
to  any  merely  intellectual  endowment.  Kor  is  it 
possible  to  read  the  few"  letters  of  this  period,  especially 
those  above  quoted,  without  feehng  the  deep  satisfac- 
tion and  content  which  at  last  possessed  him,  and  the 
stimidus  given  to  all  his  facidties  by  this  profound 
consciousness  of  having  attained  the  place  suitable  for 
him  and  the  work  wliich  he  could  do.  A  long  breath 
of  satisfaction  expands  the  breast  which  has  so  often 
swelled  with  the  wistful  sic^hs  of  lonoino;  and  deferred 

O  DO 

hope.  He  is  the  "  happy  warrior "  at  length  able  to 
work  out  his  life  "  upon  the  plan  that  pleased  his  youth- 
ful thought ; "  and  liis  descriptions  of  his  studies  and 
the  assiduity  with  which  he  set  to  work — his  very  self- 
exammations  and  complaints  of  his  own  unworthiness, 
are  penetrated  with  this  sentiment.  He  stands  at  the 
beginning  of  his  career  in  an  attitude  almost  sublime  in 
its  simplicity,  looking  forward  with  all  the  deep  eager- 
ness of  an  ambition  which  sought  not  its  own  advance- 
ment —  a  man  to  whom  God  had  granted  the  desire 
of  his  heart.     Few  men   consciously  understand  and 

VOL.  I.  M 


1G2  THE    DESIRE   OF    TITS   ITEART. 

acknowledge  tlic  fulness  of  this  blessing,  AvhicJi  indeed 
is  not  often  conferred.  Most  people,  indeed,  find  the  posi- 
tion they  had  hoped  and  longed  for,  to  fall  far  short  (^f 
theii'  hopes  when  it  is  attained.  Ii'ving  was  an  exception 
to  this  common  rule  of  humanity.  He  had  reached  the 
point  to  which  he  had  been  struggUng,  and  amid  all  the 
joyful  stir  of  his  faculties  to  fill  his  place  worthily,  he 
never  hesitates  nor  grudges  to  make  full  acknowledg- 
ment that  he  has  got  his  desire.  Not  merely  obedience 
and  loyalty  constrain  him  to  the  work,  but  gratitude  to 
that  Master  who  has  permitted  him  to  reach  the  very 
post  of  his  choice.  With  a  full  heart  and  unliesitating 
words,  and  even  more  by  a  certain  swell  of  heroic  joy 
and  content  in  everything  he  does  and  says,  he  testifies 
liis  thankfulness.  It  is  no  longer  a  man  struggUng,  as 
most  men  do,  through  ungenial  circumstances  and  ad- 
verse conditions  whom  we  have  to  contemplate,  but  a 
man  consciously  and  confessedly  in  the  place  which  his 
imagination  and  wishes  have  long  pointed  out  to  him 
as  the  most  desirable,  the  most  suitable  in  the  world 
for  himself. 

With  this  buoyant  and  joyful  satisfaction,  however, 
no  mean  motives  mingled.  Irving's  temper  was  emi- 
nently social.  lie  could  not  live  without  having  people 
round  him  to  love,  and  stiU  more  to  admire  and  reve- 
rence, and  even  to  follow ;  but  no  vain  desire  of  "  good 
society  "  seems  to  have  moved  the  young  Scotchman. 
He  was  faithful  to  Bloomsbury,  which  his  congregation 
favoured ;  and  when  he  set  up  his  first  household  in 
London,  though  moving  a  Httle  out  of  that  most  respect- 
able of  localities,  he  went  further  off  instead  of  nearer 
the  world  of  fashion,  and  settled  in  Myddelton  Terrace, 


HIS  FIRST   HOUSEHOLD.  163 

Pentonville.  Here  he  lived  in  modest  economy  for 
some  years,  prodigal  in  nothing  but  charity.  The 
society  into  which  he  first  glided  was  still  Scotch,  even 
when  out  of  the  narrower  ecclesiastical  boundaries. 
David  Wilkie  was  one  of  his  earliest  friends,  and 
Wilkie  brought  him  in  contact  with  Allan  Cunning- 
ham, a  still  closer  countryman  of  his  own.  Thus  he 
made  gradual  advances  into  the  friendship  and  know- 
ledge of  the  people  about  him ;  and  with  his  young 
brother  sharing  Ms  lodging  and  caUing  out  his  affec- 
tionate cares,  with  daily  studies  close  and  persevering 
as  those  he  has  himself  recorded;  with  the  httle  church 
Sunday  by  Sunday  overflowing  more  frdly — till  ac- 
cidents began  to  happen  in  the  narrow  streets  about 
Hatton  Garden,  and  at  last  the  concourse  had  to  be 
regulated  by  wiles,  and  the  dehghted,  but  embarrassed, 
managers  of  the  httle  Caledonian  chapel  found  an 
amomit  of  occupation  thrust  upon  their  hands  for  which 
they  were  totahy  unprepared,  and  had  to  hold  the 
doors  of  their  httle  builduig  hke  so  many  besieged 
posterns  against  the  assaults  of  the  crowd ;  and  with 
notable  faces  appearing  daily  more  fi^equent  in  the 
throng  of  heads  all  turned  towards  the  preacher, 
Edward  Irving  passed  the  first  year  of  his  life  in 
London,  and  sprang  out  of  obscurity  and  failure  with 
a  sudden  unexampled  leap  to  the  giddiest  height  of 
popular  applause,  abuse,  and  idolatry,  bearing  the 
wonderful  revolution  with  a  steady  but  joyful  sim- 
plicity, recognising  his  success  as  openly  as  he  had 
recognised  the  want  of  it,  under  which  he  suffered  for 
so  many  silent  years. 


M   2 


i(;4 


CILU^TER  Vm. 

1823. 

Tjie  second  year  of  Irving's  residence  in  London  was 
one  of  the  deepest  importance,  both  to  himself  person- 
ally and  to  his  reputation.  It  opened  with  the  publi- 
cation of  his  first  book,  the  Orations  and  the  Argument 
for  Judgment  to  come,  both  of  which  had  been  partly 
preached  in  the  form  of  sermons,  and  were  now  in  an 
altered  shape  presented,  not  to  any  special  rehgious 
body,  l)ut  to  the  world  which  had  gathered  together 
to  hear  them,  and  to  those  who  lead  the  crowd,  the 
higher  intellects  and  imaginations,  whom  neither  reh- 
gious books  nor  discourses  usually  address.  In  this 
volume  it  is  perceptible  that  the  preacher's  mind  had 
swelled  and  risen  with  the  increase  of  his  audience. 
Sometliing  more,  it  was  apparent,  was  required  of  him 
than  merely  congregational  ministrations;  and  he  rises 
at  the  call  to  address  those  classes  of  men  who  are 
never  to  be  found  in  numbers  in  any  congregation, 
but  who  did  drift  into  his  audience  in  unprecedented 
crowds.  In  the  preface  to  this  pubhcation  he  explains 
his  own  object  with  noble  gravity,  claiming  for  himself, 
%vith  the  most  entire  justice,  though  in  such  a  way  as 
naturally  to  call  forth  against  him  the  jealous  criticism 
of  all  self-satisfied  preachers,  a  certain  originahty  in  the 
treatment  of  his  subject,  and  desiring  to  be  heard  not 


THE  ORATIONS.  165 

in  the  ear  of  the  Chiirch  only,  but  openly,  before  the 
greater  tribunal  of  the  world.  At  the  height  of  his 
early  triumph,  looking  back,  he  traces,  through  years 
of  silence,  liis  own  steady  protest  against  the  ordinary 
strain  of  pulpit  teaching ;  and  with  a  startling  earnest- 
ness— which  that  long  conviction,  for  wliich  already  he 
had  suffered  both  hardship  and  injustice,  explains  and 
justifies  better  than  anything  else  can  do  —  declares  his 
knowledge  of  the  great  rehgious  difficulty  of  the  time. 
"  It  hath  appeared  to  the  author  of  this  book,"  he  says, 
going  at  once  to  the  heart  of  the  subject,  and  with 
characteristic  frankness  putting  that  first  which  was 
Hke  to  be  taken  most  exception  to,  "  from  more  than 
ten  years'  meditation  upon  the  subject,  that  the  chief 
obstacle  to  the  progress  of  divine  truth  over  the  minds 
of  men,  is  the  want  of  its  being  sufficiently  presented  to 
them.  In  this  Christian  country  there  are  perhaps 
nine-tenths  .of  every  class  who  know  nothing  at  all 
about  the  apphcation  and  advantages  of  the  single 
truths  of  revelation,  or  of  revelation  taken  as  a  whole ; 
and  what  they  do  not  know  they  cannot  be  expected 
to  reverence  or  obey.  This  ignorance,  in  both  the 
higher  and  the  lower  orders,  of  rehgion,  as  a  discerner 
of  the  thoughts  and  intentions  of  the  heart,  is  not  so 
much  due  to  the  want  of  inquisitiveness  on  their  part, 
as  to  the  want  of  a  sedulous  and  skilful  ministry  on  the 
part  of  those  to  whom,  it  is  intrusted." 

It  cannot  be  surprising  that  such  a  beginning  aroused 
at  once  aU  the  antagonism  "with  which  imiovations  are 
generally  regarded,  and  provoked  those  accusations  of 
self-importance,  self-exaltation,  and  vanity,  which  still 
are  current  among  those  who  know  nothmg  of  the 


166  lUVLVG'S   EXrERIMENT   IN   rEEACIIING. 

person  they  stigmatise.  But  not  to  say  that  he 
I)roves  liis  case,  wliicli  most  luiprejudiced  readers  will 
allow,  nor  tliat  the  grievance  has  gone  on  since  his 
days,  growing  more  and  nmix'  intolerable,  and  calling 
forth  many  reproofs  less  serious  hut  more  bitter  than 
Living's,  none  who  have  accompanied  us  so  far  in 
this  liistory,  and  perceived  the  exercises  of  patience 
which  the  preacher  liimsclf  liad  to  imdergo,  and  the 
warm  and  strong  conviction  arising  out  of  them  which 
for  years  had  hindered  his  own  advancement,  will  be 
surprised  at  the  plain  speaking  ^vith  which  he  heralds 
his  own  first  performance.  To  get  at  the  true  way  of 
addressing  men,  he  himself  had  been  for  years  a  wearied 
listener  and  discouraged  essayist  at  speech.  At  last  he 
had  found  the  secret ;  and  the  whole  world  round  him 
had  owned  "with  an  instantaneous  thrill  the  power  that 
was  in  it.  With  this  triumphant  vindication  of  his  own 
doubts  and  dissatisfaction,  to  confirm  him  in  his  views,  it 
was  impossible  for  such  a  man  to  be  silent  on  the  general 
question.  At  this  dazzling  moment  he  had  access  to 
the  highest  intelligences  in  the  country, — the  teachers, 
the  governors,  the  autliorities  of  the  land,  had  sought 
liim  out  in  that  Avilderness  of  mediocre  London,  which 
had  not  even  the  antiquity  of  the  city,  nor  any  recom- 
mendation whatever,  but  Avas  lost  in  the  smoke,  the 
dust,  the  ignoble  din  and  bustle.  And  why  was  such 
an  audience  unusual  ?  IIow  was  it  that  they  were  not 
oftener  attracted,  seized  upon,  made  to  hear  God's 
Word  and  will,  if  need  were,  in  spite  of  tliemselves  ? 
Thinking  it  over,  he  comes  to  the  conclusion,  not  that 
his  own  genius  was  the  cause,  Ijut  tljat  his  bretliren 
had  not  found  the  true  method,  had  not  learned  the 


ADDRESSES  HIMSELF  TO  EDUCATED  MEN.     167 

most  effective  way  of  discliarging  tlieir  duty.  "  Tliey 
prepare  for  teaching  gipsies,  for  teacliing  bargemen, 
for  teaching  miners,  by  apprehending  their  way  of 
conceiving  and  estimating  truth ;  and  why  not  prepare," 
he  asks,  with  eloquent  wonder,  and  a  truth  which  no- 
body can  dispute,  "  for  teacliing  imaginative  men,  and 
political  men,  and  legal  men,  and  scientific  men,  who 
bear  the  world  in  hand  ?  "  This  preparation,  judgmg 
from  what  he  saw  around  him  every  day,  Irving  was 
well  justified  in  beheving  he  himself  had  attained  ;  and 
he  did  not  hesitate,  while  throwing  himself  boldly  forth 
upon  the  world  m  a  book — a  farther  and  swifter  mes- 
senger than  any  voice — to  declare  it  plainly,  the  highest 
reason  and  excuse  for  the  publication,  in  which  he  now, 
with  all  the  fervour  and  eloquence  of  a  personal  com- 
mmiication,  addressed  all  who  had  ears  to  hear. 

The  preface  to  the  Orations^  wdiich  form  the  first 
part  of  the  yolume,  is  so  characteristic  and  noble  an 
expression  of  friendship,  that  it  would  be  inexcusable 
to  omit  it. 

"  To  the  Eev.  Thomas  Chalmers,  D.D., 

"  Minister  of  St.  John's  Church,  Glasgow. 

"  My  honoueed  Friend, — I  thank  God,  who  directed  you 
to  hear  one  of  my  discourses,  when  I  had  made  up  my  mind 
to  leave  my  native  land  for  solitary  travel  in  foreign  parts. 
That  dispensation  brought  me  acquainted  with  your  good 
and  tender-hearted  nature,  whose  splendid  accomplishments 
I  knew  already ;  and  you  now  live  in  the  memory  of  my 
heart  more  than  in  my  admii-ation.  WTiile  I  laboured  as 
your  assistant,  my  labours  were  never  weary,  they  were  never 
enough  to  express  my  thankfulness  to  God  for  havino- 
associated  me  with  such  a  man,  and  my  affection  to  the  man 
with  whom  I  was  associated.     I  now  labour  in  another  field. 


168  AEGUMKXT   FOR   JUDGMENT   TO   COME. 

nmonc^a  people  whom  I  love,  and  overwhom  God  hath, hy  signs 
une»]uivocal,  already  blessed  my  ministry.  You  go  to  labour 
likeNsnse  in  another  vineyard,  where  may  the  Lord  bless  your 
retired  meditations  as  he  hath  blessed  your  active  operations. 
And  may  He  like^Yise  watch  over  the  flock  of  our  mutual  soli- 
citude, now  about  to  fall  into  other  hands.  The  Lord  be 
with  you  and  your  household,  and  render  unto  you  manifold 
for  the  blessings  which  you  have  rendered  unto  me.  I  could 
say  much  about  these  Orations  which  I  dedicate  to  you,  but  I 
will  nut  mingle  with  any  literary  or  theological  discussion 
this  pure  tribute  of  aflection  and  gratitude  which  I  render  to 
3'ou  before  the  world,  as  I  have  already  done  into  your  private 
ear.  I  am,  my  honoured  friend,  yours,  in  the  bonds  of  the 
gospel,  "  Edward  Irving." 

"  Caledonian  Church,  Ilatton  Garden,  July,  1823." 

Tlie  Argument  for  Judgment  to  come^  a  longer  and 
more  elaborate  work,  which  occupies  the  larger  half  of 
the  same  volmne,  seems  to  have  been  specially  sug- 
gested to  the  mmd  of  the  writer  by  the  two  Visions  of 
Judgment  of  Southey  and  BjTon.    The  profane  flattery 
of  the  one,  most  humihating  tribute  to  both  giver  and 
receiver  wliich  the  office  of  laureate  has,  in  recent  ages 
at  least,  extorted  from  any  poet,  and  the  disgusting 
parody  of  the  other,  excited  in  L:-ving  all  the  indig- 
nation and  repugnance  which  was  natural  to  a  right- 
thinking  and  pious  mind.     His  feeling  on  tlie  subject 
seems  warmer  than  those  miserable  productions  were 
worthy  of  exciting ;  but  it  is  natural  that  a  contem- 
porary should  regard  such  degradations  of  literature 
\\\\h.  a  liveher  indignation  than  it  is  possible  to  feel 
when  natural  oblivion  has  mercifully  swallowed  them 
up.    The  Argument  was  dedicated,  hke  the  Dilations, 
to  one  of  his  earher  friends,  the  Rev.  Eobert  (afterwards 
well  known  as  Dr.)  Gordon  of  Edinburgh ;  tliis  highest 


ASSAILED   BY   CRITICS.  169 

mark  of  regard  or  gratitude,  which  it  is  in  an  author's 
power  to  bestow,  being  in  both  cases  characteristically 
conferred  on  men  who  could  in  no  way  advance  or  aid 
liim  in  his  career,  but  whom  he  distinguished  from 
pure  gratitude  and  friendship  only.  Inscribed  with 
these  names,  he  sent  his  first  venture  into  the  yet 
untried  world  of  hterature,  exposing  himself  freely, 
with  all  his  undernable  pecuharities  both  of  mind  and 
diction,  to  a  flood  of  critics,  probably  never,  before 
or  since,  so  universally  excited  about  any  volume  of 
rehgious  addresses  which  ever  came  from  the  press. 

The  consequence  was  an  onslaught  so  universal, 
exciting,  and  animated,  that  the  satire  of  the  day — the 
age  of  pamphlets  being  then  in  full  existence — took  hold 
of  the  matter,  and  has  preserved,  in  a  curious  and 
amusing  form,  the  comments  and  ferment  of  the  time. 
The  Trial  of  the  Rev.  Edward  Irving^  31. A.,  a  Cento  of 
Criticism.,  had  reached  the  fifth  edition,  now  before  us,  in 
the  same  year,  1823,  which  was  half  over  before  Irving's 
book  was  pubhshed.  It  is  the  report  of  a  prosecution 
carried  on  before  the  Court  of  Common  Sense,  by  Jacob 
Oldstyle,  Clerk,  against  the  new  preacher,  at  the  trial  of 
which  all  the  editors  of  the  leading  papers  are  ex- 
amined, cross-examined,  and  covered  with  comic  con- 
fusion. The  state  of  popular  interest  and  excitement 
suggested  by  the  very  possibility  of  such  a  production, 
and  the  fact  of  its  having  run  through  at  least  five  edi- 
tions, is  of  itself  almost  mibelievable,  considering  the  short 
period  of  Irving's  stay  in  London,  and  his  character  as 
a  preacher  of  an  obscure,  and,  so  far  as  the  ordinary 
knowledge  of  the  London  pubhc  was  concerned,  almost 
foreign  church.     Such  iijeu  d' esprit  is  a  more  powerful 


170  MOCK  TRIAL. 

"witness  of  tlic  general  commotion  tlinn  any  graver 
testimony.  Tlic  common  public,  it  a})pcars,  were 
sulliciently  interested  to  enjoy  tlie  mock  trial,  and  the 
discomlitiu'e  of  able  editors  consequent  upon  that  ex- 
amination, and  knew  the  Avliole  matter  so  thoroughly, 
that  they  could  ap})reciate  the  fun  of  the  travestie. 
The  editor  of  the  Times  being  called,  and  having  in 
the  course  of  his  examination  given  the  court  the 
benefit  of  hearing  his  own  article  on  the  subject,  gives 
also  the  following  account  of  the  aspect  of  affaks  at  the 
Caledonian  chapel : — 

"Did  you  find  that  yonr  exposure  of  the  defendant's 
pretensions  had  the  effect  of  putting  an  end  to  the  public 
delusion  ?  " 

"  Quite  the  reverse.  The  crowds  which  thronged  to  the 
Caledonian  chapel  instantly  doubled.  The  scene  which 
Cross  Street,  Hatton  Grarden,  presented  on  the  following 
Sunday  beggared  all  description.  It  was  quite  a  Vanity  Fair. 
Not  one  half  of  the  assembled  multitude  could  force  their  way 
into  the  sanctum  sanctorum.  Even  we  ourselves  were  shut 
out  among  the  vulgar  herd.  For  the  entertainment  of  the 
excluded,  however,  there  was  Mr.  Basil  Montagu  preaching 
peace  and  resignation  from  a  window;  and  the  once  cele- 
brated Romeo  Coates  acting  the  part  of  trumpeter  from  the 
steps  of  the  church,  extolling  ]Mr.  Irving  as  the  prodigy  of 
prodigies,  and  abusing  the  Times  for  declaring  that  Mr. 
Irving  was  not  the  god  of  their  idolatry." 

The  other  witnesses  called  give  corroborative  testi- 
mony. An  overwhelming  popularity,  which  is  not  to 
be  explained  by  common  rules,  is  the  one  thing  granted 
alike  by  opponents  and  supporters  ;  and  all  the  weapons 
of  -vvit  are  brought  forth  against  a  preacher  who  indeed 
had  offered  battle.  JSTor  were  the  newspapers  the  only 
critics ;    every  periodical  work  of  tlie  day  seems  to 


INDICTMENT  BEFORE  THE  COURT  OF  COMMON  SENSE.    171 

have  occupied  itself,  more  or  less,  with  the  extraordinary 
preacher ;  most  of  them  in  the  tone,  not  of  hterary 
commentators,  but  of  j^ersonal  enemies  or  adherents. 
The  Westminster  and  Quarterly  Eeviews  brought  up 
the  rear  ;  the  former  (in  its  first  number)  referring  its 
readers  "  for  the  faults  of  Mr.  Irving,  to  the  thousand- 
and-one  publications  in  which  they  have  been  zealously 
and  carefully  set  forth,"  and  complaining  that  it  is 
"  compelled  to  fall  on  Mr.  Irving  when  every  critical 
tooth  in  the  nation  has  been  fleshed  upon  him  already." 
None  of  these  criticisms  were  entirely  favourable ; 
almost  all  fell  heavily  upon  the  phraseology,  the  gram- 
mar, and  taste  of  the  orator ;  and  few  omitted  to  notice 
the  imagined  "  arrogance  "  of  his  pretensions.  But  from 
the  solemn  deUverance  of  the  Quarterlies,  down  to  the 
song  of  Doctor  Squintum,  with  which  the  truculent 
gossip  of  John  Bull  edified  his  readers,  eveiybody  was 
eager  to  record  their  several  opinions  on  a  topic  so 
interesting.  Such  matters  were  certainly  discussed  in 
those  days  with  a  degree  of  personality  unknown  to  our 
pohter  fashion  of  attack  ;  but  we  cannot  remember  to 
have  seen  or  heard  of  anything  like  this  odd  turmoil  of 
universal  curiosity  and  excitement.  The  counts  of  the 
indictment  laid  against  the  culprit  before  the  Court  of 
Common  Sense  will  give  some  idea  of  the  character  of 
the  assaults  made  upon  him.     They  were  as  follows : — • 

First  For  being  ugly. 

Second.  For  being  a  Merry- An  drew. 

Third.  For  being  a  common  quack. 

Fourth.  For  being  a  common  brawler. 

Fifth.  For  being  a  common  swearer. 

Sixth.  For  being  of  very  common  understanding- 


172  ACQUITTAL. 

And,  Seventh.  For  foUownmr  divisive  courses,  subversive  of 
the  discipline  of  the  order  to  which  he  beUmgs,  aud  contrary 
to  tlio  principles  of  Christian  fcllowsliip  and  charity. 

It  will  gratify  our  readers  to  know  that  Irving  was 
not  found  guilty  of  ugliness,  nor  of  any  of  the  charges 
brought  against  liim,  except  the  last ;  and  that  one  of 
his  principal  assailants,  the  Times  itself,  the  Thunderer 
of  the  day,  was  convicted  by  his  own  confession  of 
having  condemned  Sir  Walter  Scott  as  "  a  writer  of  no 
imagination,"  and  Lord  Byron  as  "  destitute  of  all 
poetical  talent." 

Among  all  his  smaller  critics,  the  one  personal  pecu- 
harity,  which  impaired  the  effect  of  Irving's  otherwise 
fine  features  and  magnificent  presence,  seems  to  have 
always  come  conveniently  to  hand  to  prove  his  mounte- 
baiikism  aud  want  of  genius.  Wlien  his  eloquence  could 
not  be  decried,  his  divided  sight  was  always  open  to 
criticism  ;  and  when  all  harder  accusations  were  ex- 
pended, his  squint  made  a  climax  which  delighted  his 
assailants.  Cockney  wit,  not  much  qualified  for  criti- 
cising anything  which  had  to  do  with  the  Oracles  of 
God,  sang,  not  with  ill-nature,  but  merely  as  a  rehef 
to  the  feehngs  whicli  were  incapable  of  more  logical 
expression,  the  lively  lay  of  Doctor  Squintum,  which 
indeed  was  a  harmless  effusion  of  wit,  and  injured 
nobody. 

It  was  not  only,  however,  in  the  legitimate  review 
that  this  singular  book  was  assailed  or  recommended. 
It  produced  a  little  attendant  hterature  of  its  own  in 
the  shape  of  pamphlets,  one  of  which  we  have  already 
mentioned  and  quoted  from.  Another,  entitled  An 
Examination  and  Defence  of  theWritings  and  Preachintj 


DESCRIPTION   OF   THE   CHURCH   AND   PREACHER.        173 

of  the  Rev.  Edward  Irving.,  A.3I.,  gives  the  following, 
picture  of  the  man  and  his  church  : — 

"  His  mere  appearance  is  such  as  to  excite  a  high  opinion 
of  his  intellectual  powers.  He  is,  indeed,  one  of  whom  the 
casual  observer  would  say,  as  he  passed  him  in  the  street, 
'  There  goes  an  extraordinary  man ! '  He  is  in  height  not 
less  than  six  feet,  and  is  proportionably  strongly  built.  His 
every  feature  seems  to  be  impressed  with  the  characters  of 
unconquerable  courage  and  overpowering  intellect.  He  has 
a  head  cast  in  the  best  Scottish  mould,  and  ornamented  with 
a  profusion  of  long  black  cm'ly  hair.  His  forehead  is  broad, 
deep,  and  expansive.  His  thick,  black,  projecting  eyebrows 
overhang  a  very  dark,  small,  and  rather  deep-set  penetrating- 
eye.  He  has  the  nose  of  his  nation  "  (whatever  that  may 
happen  to  be;  the  essayist  does  not  inform  us);  "his  mouth  is 
beautifully  formed,  and  exceedingly  expressive  of  eloquence. 

In  a  word,  his  countenance  is  exceedingly  picturesque 

Having  cleared  the  way,  let  us  request  such  of  our  readers 
as  have  not  attended  the  Caledonian  church,  to  repair,  at 
a  quarter-past  ten  o'clock  on  a  Sunday  morning,  to  Cross 
Street,  Hatton  Garden,  the  door  of  the  church  of  which,  if  he 
be  a  humble  pedestrian,  he  will  find  it  difficult  to  reach, 
and  when  he  gets  to  it  he  cannot  enter  without  a  ticket.  If 
he  occupies  a  carriage,  he  takes  his  turn  behind  other 
carriages,  and  is  subject  to  the  same  routine.  Having  sur- 
mounted these  difficulties,  should  his  ticket  be  numbered  he 
enters  the  pew  so  numbered;  if  not,  he  waits  till  after  the 
prayer,  or  possibly  all  the  time,  which  is,  however,  unavoid- 
able. All  this  adjusted,  exactly  at  eleven  o'clock  he  beholds 
a  tall  man,  apparently  aged  about  thirty-seven  or  thirty- 
eight,  with  rather  handsome  but  certainly  striking  features, 
mount  the  pulpit  stairs.  The  service  commences  with  a 
psalm,  which  he  reads ;  a,nd  then  a  prayer  follows  in  a  deep, 
touching  voice.  His  prayer  is  impressive  and  eloquent.  The 
reading  of  a  portion  of  Scripture  follows,  in  advertence  to 
which  we  will  only  say  that  he  can  read.  We  haste  to  the 
oration,  for  there  the  peculiar  powers  of  the  preacher  are 
called  into  play.  Having  pronounced  his  text,  he  commences 
his  subject  in  a  low  but  very  audible  voice.     The  character 


174  INFLUENCE   OF   HIS   PERSONAL   APrEARANCE. 

of  his  style  will  iinmediatoly  catch  the  ear  of  all.  Until 
warmed  by  his  sul)ject,  we  shall  only  be  struck  with  a  full 
and  scriptural  phraseology,  in  which  much  modern  elision  is 
rejected,  some  additional  conjunction  introduced,  and  the 
auxiliarj''  verbs  kept  in  most  active  service.  As  he  goes  on 
his  coimtenance,  which  is  surrounded  by  a  dark  apostolic 
head  of  luiir,  waving  towards  his  shoulders,  becomes  strongly 
expressive  and  lighted  up,  and  his  gesture  marked  and 
vehement." 

It  is  characteristic  that  nobody  attempts  to  discuss 
Irving,  even  in  such  matters  as  his  books  or  liis  ser- 
mons, witliout  prefatory  personal  sketches  hke  the 
above.  Even  now,  when  he  has  been  dead  for  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  his  most  casual  hearer  of 
old  times  acknowledges  the  unity  of  the  man  by 
eagerly  inter^Dolating  personal  description  into  every 
discussion  concerning  the  great  preacher.  His  person, 
his  aspect,  his  height,  and  presence  have  all  a  share  in 
his  eloquence.  There  is  no  dividing  him  into  sections, 
or  making  an  abstract  creature  of  this  hving  man. 

And  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  audience 
admitted  after  so  elaborate  a  fashion  were  not  the 
common  rabble  who  surround  and  follow  a  popular 
preacher.  His  critics  made  it  a  strong  point  against 
the  bold  and  unhesitating  orator,  that  it  was  not  the 
poor,  but  the  intelligent,  the  learned,  and  the  intellec- 
tual whom  he  amiounced  himself  intent  upon  addressing. 
Virtuous  Theodore  Hook  and  other  edifying  evange- 
lists declared  the  entry  to  the  Caledonian  chapel  to  be 
closed  to  "  the  pious  poor  " —  a  class  not  much  accus- 
tomed to  sucli  advocates  of  tlieir  claims.  "  His  chapel 
is  every  Sunday  a  gallery  of  beauty  and  fashion,"  says 
another  of  his  assailants ;  and  persons  more  important 
than  the  fair  and  fashionable  sought  the  same  obscure 


INCONVENIENCES   OF  POPULARITY.  175 

place  of  worship.  The  effect  of  such  incessant  crowd- 
ing, however  agreeable  at  once  to  the  Christian  zeal  and 
national  pride  of  the  congregation,  was  no  small  trial 
of  their  patience  and  good  temper.  A  year  later, 
when  about  to  lay  the  foundation  of  their  new  church, 
Irving  comments  feelingly  upon  all  the  inconvenience 
and  discomfort  of  popidarity.  "  It  is  not  a  small  matter," 
he  says  in  one  of  his  sermons,  "  whether  we  shall  in 
our  new  quarters  be  pressed  on  by  every  hindrance  to 
rest  and  devotion,  or  shall  be  dehvered  into  the  enjoy- 
ment of  Sabbath  quiet  and  church  tranquilhty.  We 
can  now  look  forward  to  the  comfort  and  quiet  which 
other  congregations  enjoy,  to  that  simple  condition 
of  things  which  the  simphcity  of  our  Church  re- 
quireth.  We  have  had  a  most  difficult  and  tedious 
way  to  make,  through  every  misrepresentation  of 
vanity  and  ambition :  we  have  stood  in  eminent  peril 
from  the  visits  of  rank  and  dignity  wliich  have  been 
paid  to  us.  There  was  much  good  to  be  expected  from 
it ;  therefore  we  paid  wiUingly  the  price,  being  de- 
sirous that  they  who  heard  the  truth  but  seldom  should 
hear  it  when  they  were  disposed.  But  these,  you  know, 
are  bad  conditions  to  our  being  cemented  together  as 
a  Church  ;  they  withdraw  us  from  ourselves  to  those 
conspicuous  people  by  whom  we  were  visited ;  from 
which  I  have  not  ceased  to  warn  you,  and  agamst 
which  I  have  not  ceased  to  be  upon  my  own  guard." 

In  spite  of  the  universal  assaults  made  against  the 
book,  the  Orations  and  Argument  ran  into  a  third 
edition  m  little  more  than  as  many  months ;  and 
remain,  now  that  all  their  critics  are  forgotten,  among 
the    most   notable   examples   of   rehgious   eloquence. 


176  SUCCESS   OF    TIIK    ROOK. 

But  it  is  not  our  business  to  criticise  these  works,  whicli 
have  been  long  before  tlic  pubUc,  and  can  be  still 
judged  on  their  separate  merits.  Their  author,  mean- 
while, was  approaching  a  crisis  in  liis  life  still  more 
important  than  the  pubUcation  of  his  first  book. 
Longer  tlian  the  patriarch  he  had  waited  for  his 
Eachel :  and  now  an  eniraofement,  Avhich  had  lasted,  I 
believe,  eleven  years,  and  had  survived  long  separation, 
and  many  changes,  both  of  circumstances  and  senti- 
ment, was  at  length  to  be  fullilled.  lu  the  end  of 
September,  1823,  Irving  left  London  and  travelled  by 
several  successive  stages  to  Kii'kcaldy,  where  his  bride 
awaited  him.  lie  dates  the  following  letter,  pleasantly 
suggestive  of  the  condition  of  his  mmd  in  these  new 
prospects,  from  Bolton  Abbey.  It  is  addressed  to 
William  Hamilton. 


"  My  dear  and  valuable  Friend. — I  write  you  thus  early 
by  ray  brother,  merely  to  inform  you  of  my  health  and  hap- 
piness ;  for  as  yet  I  have  had  no  time  to  do  anything  but 
walk  abroad,  among  the  most  beautiful  and  sequestered  scenes 
with  which  I  am  surrounded ;  and  which  never  fail  to  pro- 
duce upon  my  spirit  the  most  pleasing  and  profitable  effects. 
^^^len  I  shall  have  rested  I  will  write  you  and  my  other  per- 
sonal friends  at  length,  and  let  you  know  all  my  plans  and 
purposes  during  my  absence.  ...  I  shall  not  write  you  till  I 
get  at  my  journey's  end,  and  have,  perhaps,  completed  its 
chief  object.  But,  late  though  it  is,  I  cannot  help  telh'ng 
you  how  happy  I  am,  and  how  tranquil  and  holy  a  Sabbath 
I  spent  yesterday,  and  how  every  day  I  engross  into  my 
mind  new  thoughts,  and  ruminate  upon  new  designs  con- 
nected with  the  ministry  of  Christ  in  that  great  city  where  I 
labour.  The  Lord  strengthen  me,  and  raise  up  others  more 
holy  and  more  devoted  for  His  holy  service.  I  foresee  infinite 
battles  and  contentions,  not  with  the  persons  of  men,  but  with 


A   RURAL   SUNDAY.  177 

their  opinions.  My  rock  of  defence  is  my  people.  They  are 
also  my  rock  of  refuge  and  consolation.  We  have  joined 
hands  together,  and  I  feel  that  we  will  make  common  cause. 
I  hope  the  Lord  will  be  pleased  to  give  me  their  souls  and 
their  fervent  prayers,  and  then,  indeed,  we  shall  be  mighty 
against  all  opposition. 

"  AVill  you  be  so  good  as  to  give  my  brother  an  order  upon 
my  account  for  whatever  cash  he  may  need  to  enter  himself 
to  the  hospitals  with,  or,  if  it  is  more  orderly,  to  give  it  him 
yourself,  and  consider  this  as  your  voucher  should  anything 
happen  to  me  before  we  meet  ?  I  should  be  happy  to  hear 
from  you  that  all  things  are  going  on  well. 

"  Yours  most  affectionately, 

"  Edward  Irving. 
"  29th  September,  1823." 

After  this  he  passed  on  his  way,  by  bis  father's  house 
in  Annan ;  and  the  Sunday  before  his  marriage,  being 
now  no  longer  a  private  man,  with  his  time  at  his  own 
disposal,  went  to  Haddington  to  preach  among  his 
early  friends.  There,  where  he  had  made  his  youthful 
beginnuig  in  hfe,  and  where,  when  a  probationer,  he 
had  preached  with  the  ordinary  result  of  half-con- 
temptuous toleration,  his  coming  now  stirred  all  the 
little  town  into  excitement.  The  boys  who  had  been 
his  pupils  were  now  men,  proud  to  recall  them- 
selves to  his  notice ;  and  with  a  warmer  thrill  of  local 
pride,  in  recollection  of  his  temporary  connection  with 
their  burgh,  the  people  of  Haddington  welcomed  the 
man  whom  great  London  had  discovered  to  be  the 
greatest  orator  of  his  day.  Wherever  he  went,  indeed, 
he  was  hailed  with  that  true  Scottish  approbation  and 
deUght  which  always  hails  the  return  of  a  man  who 
has  done  his  duty  by  Scotland,  and  made  himself 
famous  —  a  satisfaction  no  way  lessened  by  the  recol- 

VOL.  I.  N 


178  HIS    MAKUlAdE. 

loction  that  Scotland  herseir  luul  not   ])ccn  tlie  first  to 
discover  liis  iircal  qualities. 

"  Irving  is  in  Scotland,"  writes  Dr.  Gordon  from 
Edinburgh  to  Irving's  friend, Mr.  Story.  "I  have  seen 
liiin  twice  for  a  little.  'i'he  same  noble  fellow  — 
and  in  spite  of  all  his  alLujed  egotism,  a  man  of  great 
simplicity  and  straightforwardness,  lie  is  to  be  mar- 
ried to-day,  I  believe,  to  llkliss  Martin,  of  Kirkcaldy." 
This  was  on  the  13th  of  October.  Tlie  loner-enfraired 
coujile  were  married  in  that  Manse  of  Kirkcaldy  which 
liad  witnessed  so  many  youthful  chapters  in  Irving's 
life,  and  which  was  yet  more  to  be  associated  with  his 
deepest  and  most  tender  feehngs.  They  were  married 
by  the  grandfather  of  the  bride,  a  venerable  old  man — 
brother,  as  I  believe  has  been  abeady  mentioned,  of  the 
celebrated  Scotch  painter,  David  MartLn,whom  the  imagi- 
nation of  Scotland  fondly  holds  as  a  second  Eeynolds — 
and  in  his  own  person  a  man  much  venerated,  the  father 
of  the  clergy  in  his  locahty ;  in  the  presence  of  a  body 
of  kindred  worthy  of  a  family  in  wliich  three  genera- 
tioas  flourished  together.  I  will  not  hnger  upon  any 
description  of  L'ving's  wife.  The  character  of  a  woman 
who  has  never  voluntarily  brought  herself  before  the 
puljhc  is  sacred  to  her  children  and  her  friends.  She  stood 
by  her  husband  bravely  through  every  after  vicissitude 
of  his  life  :  was  so  thorough  a  companion  to  him,  that 
he  confided  to  lier,  in  detail,  all  the  thoughts  which 
occupied  him,  as  will  be  seen  in  after  letters  ;  received 
his  entire  trust  and  confidence,  piously  laid  him  in  his 
grave,  brought  up  his  children,  and  Uved  for  half  of 
her  hfe  a  widow  indeed,  in  the  exercise  of  all  womanly 
and  Christian  virtues.    If  her  adinii^ation  for  his  genius, 


HIS   WIFE.  179 

and  the  short-sightedness  of  love,  led  her  rather  to  seek 
the  society  of  those  who  held  him  in  a  kind  of  idolatry, 
than  of  friends  more  hkely  to  exert  upon  him  the  bene- 
ficial influence  of  equals,  and  so  contributed  to  the 
clouding  of  his  genius,  it  is  the  only  blame  that  has 
been  ever  attached  to  her.  She  came  of  a  family  who 
were  all  distinguished  by  active  talent  and  considerable 
character ;  and  with  all  the  unnoted  valour  of  a  true 
woman,  held  on  her  way  through  the  manifold  agonies 
—  in  her  case  most  sharp  and  often  repeated  —  of  hfe. 
After  this  event  a  period  of  wandering  followed,  to 
refresh  the  fatigue  of  the  preacher,  after  his  first  year- 
long conflict  with  that  hfe  of  London  wliich,  sooner  or 
later,  kills  almost  all  its  combatants.  The  bridal  pafr 
appear  in  glimpses  over  the  summer  country.  One 
evening,  sitting  at  the  window  of  his  quiet  manse,  at  the 
mouth  of  one  of  the  lovehest  and  softest  lochs  of  Clyde, 
the  minister  of  Eosneath  saw  a  vast  figure  approach- 
ing through  the  twilight,  carrying  — an  adjunct  which 
seems  to  have  secured  immediate  recognition— a  port- 
manteau on  its  Herculean  shoulder.  It  was  Irvino-, 
followed  by  liis  amused  and  admiring  wife,  who  had 
come  down  from  Glasgow  by  one  of  the  Clyde 
steamers,  and  had  walked  with  his  burden  from  the 
other  side  of  the  little  peninsula.  "  And  do  you  mean 
to  say  that  you  have  carried  that  all  the  way  ?  "  cried  the 
astonished  host,  as  he  hastened  to  welcome  his  unex- 
pected visitors.  "  And  I  would  like  to  know,"  answered 
the  bridegroom,  with  all  the  gleeful  consciousness  of 
strength,  stretching  out  the  mighty  arms  which  he  had 
just  reheved, "  which  of  your  caitiffs  could  have  carried 
it  better ! "   A  httle  later  the  pair  are  at  Annan,  awaken- 

N    2 


ISO  Tin:    I5RIDAL    HOLIDAY. 

ing  in  tlio  lionrts  of  young  ncpliows  :nul  iiirci^s  llicro 
tlioir  earliest  reeolleetions  oi'  |)l('asiirc  and  jubilee. 
Irving  was  not  preaeliing,  so  far  as  there  is  any  record  ; 
lie  was  idling  and  enji>ying  himself;  and,  with  hiui, 
these  words  meant  making  otlu'rs  enjoy  themselves, 
and  leaving  ccliocs  of  holitiay  everywhere.  So  late  as 
the  beginniniT  of  November  he  was  still  in  Scotland  — 
in  Glasixow. — where  Dr.  Chalmers,  at  the  heirrhl.  of 
his  splendid  social  experiments,  and  in  \'\\\\  possession 
of  his  unrivalled  intlucnce,  a  kind  (»!'  prince-bishop  in 
that  great  and  difficult  town,  had  felt  his  strength  fail, 
and — yielding  to  a  natural  distaste  for  the  atmosphere 
in  which,  not  following  his  own  inclinations,  except  in 
the  fashion  of  his  work,  he  had  laboured  for  years — had 
resigned  his  great  position  for  the  modest  tranquillity  of 
a  professor's  chair  in  St.  Andrew's,  and  was  just  taking 
leave  of  the  people  over  whom  he  had  held  so 
w^onderful  a  sway.  There  L'\'ing  went  to  listen  to  the 
last  sermon  of  his  master  in  the  ministry.  The  situa- 
tion is  a  remarkable  one.  He  was  again  to  take  part 
in  the  services  in  that  place  where  he  had  filled, 
loyally,  yet  with  many  commotions  and  wistful  dis-  , 
satisfaction  in  his  mind,  a  secondary  place,  so  short  a 
time  before.  A  world  of  dilTerence  lay  in  the  year  of 
time  which  had  passed  sinccj  then.  Chalmers  liimself 
had  not  turned  the  head  of  any  community,  as  his 
former  assistant  had  tumed  tlie  nniltitiidinous  heads  of 
Lcjndon.  Tlie  man  who  had  gone  away  from  them, 
forlorn  and  brave,  upon  an  expedition  more  like  that 
of  a  forlorn  hope  than  an  enterprise  justified  by 
ordinary  wisdom,  had  come  back  with  all  the  laurels 
of  sudden  fame,  a  conqueror   and   hero.     Yet   here, 


RE-AI'PEARANCE    IN   ST.    JOHN  S.  181 

again  lie  stood,  so  entii'ely  in  his  old  place  that  one  can 
suppose  the  brilliant  interval  must  have  looked  like  a 
dream  to  Irving  as  he  gazed  upon  the  crowd  of 
familiar  faces,  and  saw  himself  lost  and  forgotten,  as  of 
old,  in  the  absorbing  interest  with  which  everybody 
turned  to  the  great  leader,  under  whom  they  had  hved 
and  laboured.  Had  he  been  the  egotist  he  was  called, 
or  had  he  come  in  any  vain-glorious  hope  of  con- 
founding those  who  did  not  discover  his  greatness,  he 
would  have  chosen  another  moment  to  visit  Glasgow. 
But  he  came  in  the  simplicity  of  his  heart  to  stand  by 
his  friend  at  a  solemn  moment,  as  his  friend  had  stood 
by  him ;  to  hear  the  last  sermon,  and  offer  the  last 
good  wishes. 

This  momentary  conjunction  of  these  two  remarkable 
men  makes  a  picture  pleasant  to  dwell  on.  Both  had 
now  separated  their  names  from  that  busy  place ;  the 
elder  and  greater  to  retfre  into  the  noiseless  seclusion,  or 
rather  into  the  Httle  social  "  circles  "  and  coteries  of  a 
limited  society,  and  the  class-rooms  of  a  science  that 
was  not  even  theological ;  the  younger,  the  secondary 
and  overlooked,  to  a  position  much  more  in  the  eye 
of  the  world,  more  dazzling,  giddy,  and  glorious  than 
the  pulpit  of  St.  John's,  even  while  Chalmers  occu- 
pied it,  could  ever  have  been.  At  this  last  farewell 
moment  they  stood  as  if  that  year,  so  wonderful  to 
one  of  them,  had  never  been ;  and  Irving,  Hke  a 
true  man,  stepped  back  out  of  his  elevation,  and 
took  loyally  his  old  secondary  place.  "  When  Dr. 
Chalmers  left  the  pulpit,  after  preaching  his  farewell 
sermon,"  says  Dr.  Hanna,  his  biographer,  "it  was  en- 
tered by  the  Eev.  Edward  Irving,  who  invited  the  vast 


182  RETURN*   TO    LONDOX. 

congi'cgation  to  accompany  liim,  as  with  solemn  pomp 
and  impressive  unction  he  poured  out  a  prayer  lor  tliat 
lionoured  nunister  of  God  who  luid  just  retired  from 
among  them."  Tliis  niomcnlary  appearance  in  tliat 
familial"  pulpit,  not  to  display  the  eloquence  which  had 
made  him  famous  since  he  last  stood  in  it,  but  simply 
to  crown  with  prayers  and  blessings  the  farewell  of  liis 
friend,  is  the  most  graceful  and  touclung  conclusion 
which  could  have  been  given  to  Irving's  connection 
witli  Glasgow ;  or  at  least — since  after  events  have 
linked  his  memoiy  for  ever  with  that  of  this  great  and 
wealthy  town — with  the  congregation  of  St.  John's. 

The  newly-married  pair  travelled  to  London  by  the 
paternal  liouse  in  Annan.  Accompanied  by  some  of 
their  relations  from  thence,  they  posted  to  Carhsle,  the 
modem  conveniences  of  travel  beino;  then  undreamt 
of.  When  they  were  about  to  cross  the  Sark,  the  Kttle 
stream  which  at  that  point  divides  Scotland  from 
England,  Irving,  with  a  pleasant  bridegroom  fancy, 
made  liis  young  wife  aliglit  and  walk  over  the  bridge 
into  the  new  country,  which  henceforward  was  to  be 
her  home.  So  this  idylhc  journey  comes  to  an  end. 
After  the  bridge  of  Sark  and  its  moorland  land- 
scape, we  see  no  more  of  the  travellers  till  they  re- 
appear in  the  bustle  of  London,  where  idylls  have  no 
existence. 

His  marriage  leisure  had  probably  been  prolonged  in 
consequence  of  his  health  having  suffered  a  little  from 
the  great  labours  and  excitement  of  the  past  year. 
Just  before  starting  for  Scotland,  he  had  written  to  this 
purport  to  his  friend  David  Ilope,  who  had  consulted 
him  what   memorial   should    Ijc   raised   to   their   old 


PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION  OP  THE  ORATIONS.    183 

sclioolmaster,    Adam   Hope,    the    master    of    Aimaii 
Academy.    He  writes  : — 

"  I  have  been  unwell,  and  living  in  the  country,  and  not 
able  to  attend  to  yonr  request,  but  I  propose  that  we  should 
erect  a  monument,  when  I  will  myself  compose  elegies  in  the 
various  tongues  our  dear  and  venerable  preceptor  taught, — 
all  which  I  shall  concoct  with  you  when  I  come  to  Scotland. 
Tell  G-raham,  and  all  my  friends,"  he  adds,  "  if  they  knew 
what  a  battle  I  am  fighting  for  the  cause,  and  what  a  single- 
handed  contest  I  have  to  maintain,  they  would  forgive  my 
apparent  neglect.  Every  day  is  to  me  a  day  of  severe  occu- 
pation —  I  have  no  idleness.  All  my  leisure  is  refreshment 
for  new  labour.  Yet  am  I  happy,  and  now,  thank  God,  well 
—  and  this  moment  I  snatch  in  the  midst  of  study." 

His  marriage  and  its  attendant  travels  happily 
interrupted  this  over-occupation,  and  he  seems  to 
have  returned  to  London  with  new  fire,  ready  to 
re-enter  the  hsts,  and  show  no  mercy  upon  the 
assailants  who  had  now  made  him  for  several  months 
a  mark  for  all  their  arrows.  He  took  his  bride  to 
the  home  which  had  been  for  some  time  prepared 
for  her,  and  which,  for  the  information  of  the  curious, 
was  No.  7  ui  Myddelton  Terrace,  Pentonville. 

His  first  occupation  —  or  at  least  one  of  the  first 
things  which  occupied  him  after  his  return  —  must  have 
been  the  third  edition  of  his  Orations  and  Argument, 
^vith  the  characteristic  preface  which  he  prefixed  to  it. 
The  critics  Avho  assailed  him  must  have  been  pretty 
well  aware  beforehand,  from  all  he  had  said  and 
written,  that  Irving  was  not  a  man  to  be  overawed  by 
any  strictures  that  could  be  made  upon  him.  When  in 
the  heat  and  haste  of  the  moment,  one  edition  pursuing 
another  through  the  press,  and  one  blow  after  another 


184        Ills    DKDll  ATIOXS    AND    rUKFACKS    C.KNKUAIJ.V. 

riiiirinsT  on  liis  i?liiel(l,  tlie  orator  seized  liis  llaminsj^  pen 
and  wrote  delianee  to  all  his  opponents,  it  is  not  dillieidt 
to  imagine  the  kind  of  produetion  which  must  have 
flashed  from  tliat  pen  of  Irving.  Allowing  that  an  author's 
reply  to  criticism  is  alwaj's  a  mist^ikeii  niid  iinpnukMit  j^ro- 
ceediug,  and  that  L'ving's  contempt  antl  delianee  are  not 
written  in  jieifect  t(Ute  (angry  as  the  expression  would 
liave  made  liim)  or  charity,  yet  we  should  have  been 
sorry  not  to  have  liad  the  daring  onslaught  upon  these 
troublesome  skirmishers  of  literature,  from  whose  stings, 
alas,  neither  greatness  nor  smallness  can  defend  the  un- 
fortunate wayfarer  ;  and  the  dignified  vindication  of  his 
0"svn  style  and  diction,  which  is  as  noble  and  modest  a 
profession  of  literary  allegiance  as  can  be  found  any- 
where. "  I  have  been  accused  of  affecting  the  antiquated 
manner  of  ages  and  times  now  forgotten,"  he  says  in  his 
defence.  "  The  wTiters  of  those  times  are  too  much  for- 
gotten, I  lament,  and  their  style  of  writmg  hath  fallen 
out  of  ase ;  but  the  tune  is  fast  approaching  when  this 
stigma  shall  be  wiped  away  fi'om  our  prose,  as  it  is  fast 
departing  from  our  poetry.  I  fear  not  to  confess  that 
Hooke  and  Taylor  and  Baxter,  in  Theology;  Bacon 
and  Newton  and  Locke,  in  Philosophy,  have  been  my 
companions,  a,s  Shakspeare  and  Spenser  and  Milton 
have  been  in  poetr}'.  I  caimot  learn  to  think  as  they 
have  done,  which  is  the  gift  of  God ;  but  I  can  teach 
myself  to  think  as  disinterestedly,  and  to  express  as 
honestly,  what  I  think  and  feel.  WHiich  I  have,  in  the 
strength  of  God,  endeavoured  to  do."  Wliat  he  said  of 
his  critics  is  naturally  much  less  dignified ;  but  in  spite 
of  a  few  epithets,  which  were  much  more  current  in 
those  days  than  now,  the  whole  of  this  preface,  much 


MR.    BASIL  MONTAGU.  185 

unlike  ordinary  prefaces,  which  authors  go  on  writing 
with  an  amazin^  innocent  faith  in  the  attention  of  the 
pubhc,  and  which  few  people  ever  dream  of  looking  at, 
is  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  characteristic  portions 
of  the  volume.  Lideed,  I  know  scarcely  any  volume 
of  Irving's  works  of  which  this  might  not  be  said. 
In  his  dedications  and  prefaces,  he  carries  on  a  kind 
of  rapid  autobiography,  and  takes  his  reader  mto  his 
heart  and  confidence,  in  those  singular  addresses,  in  a 
manner,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  quite  imprecedented  hi 
hterature. 

He  was  now  fidly  launched  upon  the  exciting  and 
rapid  course  of  London  life  —  a  life  which  permits 
little  leisiu-e  and  less  tranquilhty  to  those  embarked  upon 
it.  One  of  his  earhest  acquaintances  was  ]\ir.  Basil 
Montagu  —  the  gentleman  described  by  the  Times 
as  "  preaching  peace  and  resignation  from  a  window  " 
to  the  disappointed  multitude  who  could  find  no  en- 
trance into  the  Caledonian  chm^ch.  In  ]\Ir.  Montagu's 
hospitable  house  Irving  found  the  kindest  reception 
and  the  most  congenial  society  ;  and  even  more  than 
these,  found  consolation  and  guidance,  when  first  excited 
and  then  disgusted,  according  to  a  very  natural  and  oft- 
repeated  process,  with  the  blandishments  of  society,  and 
the  coldness  of  those  rehgious  circles  which  admit 
nobody  who  does  not  come  with  certificates  of  theo- 
logical soundness  and  propriety  in  his  hand.  In  dedi- 
cating a  volume  of  sermons  to  ]\Ir.  Montagu  and  his 
wife,  some  years  after,  he  thus  describes  his  state  and 
circumstances  in  his  first  encounter  with  that  wonder- 
fid  Circe,  from  whose  fascinations  few  men  escape 
unharmed  : — 


186  IIJVIXC  S    GUATKri'L    ACKNOWLEDfiMKNTS. 

"Wlioii  the  Lord,  to  serve  liis  own  ends,  advanced  me, 
from  the  knowU-dge  of  my  own  flock  and  the  private  walks 
of  pastoral  iluty,  to  become  a  preacher  of  righteousness  to 
this  great  city,  and  I  may  say  kingdom, — to  the  princes,  and 
the  nobles,  and  the  counsellors  of  this  great  empire,  whom  He 
brought  to  hear  me, —  I  became  also  an  object  of  attack  to 
the  malice  and  artifice  of  Satan,  being  tenijjtcd  on  the  one 
hand  to  murmur  because  of  the  distance  at  wliich  I  was  held 
from  the  affections  of  my  evangelical  brethren,  whom  I  had 
never  persecuted  like  Saul  of  Tarsus,  but  too  much  loved, 
even  to  idolatry ;  and  on  the  other  hand  being  tempted  to  go 
forth,  in  the  earnest  simplicity  of  my  heart,  into  those  high 
and  noble  circles  of  society  which  were  then  open  to  me,  and 
which  must  either  have  engulfed  me  by  their  enormous 
attractions,  or  else  repelled  my  simple  affections,  shattered 
and  befooled,  to  become  the  mockery  and  contempt  of  every 
envious  and  disappointed  railer.  At  such  a  perilous  moment 
the  Lord  in  you  found  for  me  a  ]\Ientor,  both  to  soothe  my 
heart,  vexed  with  cold  and  uncharitable  suspicions,  and  to 
preserve  my  feet  from  the  snares  that  were  around  my 
path.  .  .  .  And  seeing  it  hath  pleased  God  to  make  your 
acquaintance  first,  and  then  your  imwearied  and  disinterested 
kindness,  and  now,  I  trust,  your  true  friendship,  most  helpful 
to  my  weakness,  as  well  in  leading  me  to  observe  more 
diligently  the  forms  and  aspects  of  human  life,  and  to  com- 
prehend more  widely  the  ways  of  God's  providence  with  men, 
as  in  sustaining  me  with  your  good  counsel  and  sweet  fellow- 
ship against  the  cold  dislike  and  uncharitable  suspicion  of 
the  religious,  and  preserving  me  from  the  snares  of  the 
irreligious  world,  I  do  feel  it  incumbent  upon  me,  as  a  duty 
to  God,  and  pleasant  to  me  as  a  testimony  of  gratitude  and 
love  to  you,  to  prefix  your  honoured  names  to  this  Discourse, 
which  chiefly  concemeth  the  intermediate  question  of  the 
soil  on  which  the  seed  of  truth  is  sown,  wherein  I  feel  that 
your  intercourse  has  been  especially  profitable  to  my  mind. 
For  while  I  must  ever  confess  myself  to  be  more  beholden  to 
our  sage  friend,  Mr.  Coleridge  (whose  acquaintance  and 
friendship  I  owe  likewise  to  you),  than  to  all  men  besides, 
for  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  itself  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  I 
freely  confess  myself  to  be  much  your  debtor  for  the  knowledge 


HIS   EARLY   DANGERS   IN   SOCIETY.  187 

of  those  forms  of  the  natural  mind  and  of  the  actual  existing 
world  with  which  the  minister  of  truth  hath  in  the  first 
instance  to  do,  and  into  the  soil  of  which  the  seed  of  truth  is 
to  be  cast.  Your  much  acquaintance,  worthy  sir,  and  your 
much  conversation  of  the  sages  of  other  days,  and  especially 
the  fathers  of  the  English  Church  and  literature,  and  your 
endeavours  to  hold  them  up  unto  all  whom  you  honour  with 
your  confidence ;  your  exquisite  feeling,  dear  and  honoured 
Madam,  of  whatever  is  just  and  beautiful,  whether  in  the  idea 
or  in  the  truth  of  things,  and  your  faithfulness  in  holding  it 
up  to  the  view  of  your  friends,  together  with  the  delicate 
skill  and  consummate  grace  with  which  you  express  it  in 
words  and  embody  it  in  acts, — these  things,  my  dear  and 
honoured  friends,  working  insensibly  during  several  years' 
continuance  of  a  very  intimate  friendship  and  very  confiden- 
tial interchange  of  thought  and  feeling,  have,  I  perceive, 
produced  in  me  many  of  those  views  of  men  and  things  which 
are  expressed  in  the  following  Discourse,  concerning  that 
question  of  the  several  soils  into  which  the  seed  of  truth  is 
cast  —  a  question  which  I  confess  that  I  had  very  much  in 
time  past  overlooked." 

I  make  this  lonsr  and  interestino-  extract  out  of  its 
chronological  place,  as  the  best  means  I  have  of  showing 
at  once  the  temper  of  Irving's  mind  and  the  circum- 
stances in  which  he  stood  at  his  outset  in  London  ;  — 
on  one  side,  religious  people,  shy  of  Mm  at  first,  as  of  a 
man  who  used  a  freedom  in  speech  and  in  thought  un- 
known to  ordinary  preachers,  or  authors  of  published 
sermons  —  and  afterwards  affronted  and  angry  at  his 
bold,  simple-minded  declaration  that  they  had  lost  or 
forgotten  the  way  to  proclaim  the  truth  they  held ;  and, 
on  the  other,  society  of  a  more  dazzhng  kind  and  with 
profounder  attractions  than  any  he  had  yet  met  with — 
society  such  that  men  of  genius  continuaUy  lose  their 
head,  and  sometimes  break  their  heart  in  seeking  it. 


188  DKDrttKD    iSl^LAUK. 

Tlu'  position  in  wliirh  lie  lluis  lound  hinise'lf  wms, 
indeed,  enongh  to  conrnse  ;i  man  always  eager  lor 
love  and  frieudsliip,  and  ready  to  trust  all  tlie  world. 
L^'ing,  fi'esli  from  tlie  simpler  circumstances  of  life  in 
Scotland,  charmed  witli  lli;il  >ul)tle  almosjiliere  of  re- 
finement and  high  breeding  ^vliicli  seems  at  the  hrst 
breath  to  the  unuistructed  genius  the  very  embodiment 
of  his  dreams,  stood  upon  that  dangerous  point  between, 
repelled  from  one  side,  attracted  to  the  other,  under- 
staudiiiff  neither  thoroughly — wavcrinc!;  and  doubtful  at 
the  edge  of  the  precipice.  That  he  had  a  friend  qualified 
to  point  out  to  him  the  danger  on  both  sides,  and  that  he 
was  wise  enough  to  accept  that  teaching,  was  a  matter 
for  which  he  might  well  be  grateful.  Mr.  Montagu 
drew  him  to  his  own  house,  brought  him  into  a  circle 
above  ftishion,  yet  without  its  dangerous  seductions, 
introduced  him  to  Coleridge  and  many  other  notable 
men.  And  Irving,  brought  into  the  warm  and  affec- 
tionate mtercourse  of  such  a  household,  and  assisted, 
moreover,  by  that  glamour  which  always  remained  in 
his  own  eyes  and  elevated  eveiything  he  saw,  learned 
to  gain  that  acquaintance  with  men  —  men  iA  tJje 
hifdiest  type  —  men  of  a  class  with  whicli  iiitherto  he 
liad  been  unfamihar,  in  which  the  hereditary  culture;  of 
generations  had  culminated,  and  which,  full  of  thought 
and  ripened  knowledge,  was  not  to  be  moved  by  gene- 
ralities— which  he  could  not  have  learned  either  in  his 
secondary  rank  of  scholarship  in  Edinburgh,  nor  among 
the  merchants  of  Glasgow.  He  saw,  but  in  the  best  and 
most  advantageous  way,  what  every  thoughtful  mind, 
which  lives  long  enough,is  brought  to  see  something  of — 
how  deeply  nature  has  to  do  with  all  the  revolutions  of 


COLERIDGE.  189 

the  soul ;  how  men  are  of  an  individuahty  all  unthoiight 
of;  and  how  mighty  an  agent,  beyond  all  mights  of 
education  or  training,  is  constitutional  character.  In 
Mr.  Montagu's  house  he  saw  "  the  soil  "  in  many  a  rich 
and  fruitfiil  variation,  and  came  to  know  how,  by  the 
most  diverse  and  different  paths,  the  same  end  may  be 
attained.  If  his  natural  impatience  of  everything  con- 
tracted, mean,  and  narrow-minded  gained  force  in  this 
society,  it  is  not  a  surprising  result.  But  he  had  always 
been  sufficiently  ready  to  contemn  and  scorn  common- 
place boundaries.  His  friends  in  Bedford  Square,  and 
their  friends,  taught  him  to  appreciate  more  thoroughly 
the  unities  and  diversities  of  man. 

Scarcely  any  record  remains  of  the  intercourse  which 
existed  between  Irving  and  Coleridge,  an  intercourse 
which  was  begun,  as  has  just  been  seen,  by  Mr.  Mon- 
tagu. It  lasted  for  years,  and  was  full  of  kindness  on 
the  part  of  the  philosopher,  and  of  reverential  respect  on 
that  of  Irving,  who,  following  the  natural  instinct  of  his 
own  ingenuous  nature,  changed  m  an  instant,  in  such 
a  presence,  from  the  orator  who,  speaking  in  God's 
name,  assumed  a  certain  austere  pomp  of  position — 
more  like  an  authoritative  priest  than  a  simple  Pres- 
byter— into  the  simple  and  candid  hstener,  more  ready 
to  learn  than  he  was  to  teach,  and  to  consider  the 
thoughts  of  another  than  to  propound  his  own.  No- 
thing, indeed,  can  be  more  remarkable,  more  unhke 
the  opinion  many  people  have  formed  of  him,  or 
more  true  to  his  real  character,  than  the  fact,  very 
clearly  revealed  by  all  the  dedicatory  addresses  to 
which  we  have  referred,  that  in  his  own  consciousness 
he  was  always  learning ;  and  not  only  so,  but  with  the 


!90  HIS    IXFLUENCK   ON   Till:    \  IKWS   OF    lUVlXO. 

Utmost  simplioity  and  frankness  acknowlcdginnr  -vvliat 
1k'  luul  loarned.  ll"  imagination  liad  anytliing  to  do 
witli  this  serious  and  sad  liistory,  it  would  not  be 
diflicult  to  })icture  tliose  two  ligiu'es,  so  wonderfully 
different,  looking  down  from  the  soft  llighgate  slopes 
upon  tliat  uneasy  world  heucath,  whieh,  to  one  of  ihem, 
was  but  a  great  field  of  study,  proving,  as  never  :niy 
collection  of  human  creatures  proved  before,  all  the 
grievous  but  great  conclusions  of  ])hilosophy  ;  while  to 
the  other,  it  raged  with  all  the  incessant  conflict  of  a 
field  of  battle,  dread  agony  of  life  and  death,  through 
which  his  own  cry  "  to  the  rescue  !  "  was  continually 
rinirinc,  and  his  own  hand  snatching  forth  from  under 
tranipUng  feet  the  wounded  and  the  fallen.  Here 
Irving  changed  the  common  su])erri('ial  idea  of  the 
world's  conversion  —  that  behef  cahuly  held  or  ear- 
nestly insisted  on  in  the  face  of  acknowledged  disap- 
pointment in  many  missionary  efforts,  and  the  slowness 
and  lingering  issues  of  even  the  most  succcssfid, 
which  is  common  to  most  churches.  "Tliat  error," 
as  he  himself  says,  "under  which  almost  the  whole 
of  the  Church  is  lying,  that  the  present  world  is  to  be 
converted  unto  the  Lord,  and  so  slide  by  a  natural 
inclination  into  the  Church — the  present  reign  of  Satan 
hastening,  of  its  own  accord,  into  the  millennial  reigu 
of  Christ."  For  this  doctrine  he  learned  to  substitute 
the  idea  of  a  dispensation  drawing  towards  its  close, 
and  —  its  natural  consequence  in  a  mind  so  full  of  love 
to  God  and  man  —  of  an  altogether  glorious  and  over- 
whelming revolution  yet  to  come,  in  which  all  the  dead 
society,  churches,  kingdoms,  fashions  of  this  world, 
galvanically  kept  in  motion  until  the  end,  should  Ije 


SOCIAL   CHAEITIES.  191 

finally  burned  up  and  destroyed.  Whether  this  de- 
velopment of  wistful  and  anxious  faith,  and  the  "  de- 
liverance "  conveyed  by  it ;  or  whether  that  more  subtle 
view  of  the  ancient  and  much-assailed  Calvinistic  doc- 
trine of  election,  which  sets  forth  God's  message  and 
messengers  as  specially  addressed  to  "  the  worthy,"  and 
universally  received  by  them  wherever  the  message  is 
heard — was  the  substance  of  what  the  preacher  learned 
from  the  poet-philosopher,  there  is  no  information. 
The  prodigal  thanks  with  which  the  teaching  was  re- 
ceived, given  out  of  the  fulness  of  a  heart  always  ready 
to  exaggerate  the  benefits  conferred  upon  it,  is  almost 
the  only  distinct  record  of  what  passed  between  them. 
Such  was  his  society  and  occupations  when  he  re- 
turned with  the  companion  of  his  hfe  from  Scotland. 
He  brought  his  wife  into  a  house  in  which  the  tumult 
of  London  was  perpetually  heard ;  not  into  a  quiet 
ecclesiastical  society,  like  that  which  generally  falls  to 
the  lot  of  the  wives  of  Scotch  ministers,  but  to  a  much- 
disturbed  dwelling-place,  constantly  assailed  by  visitors, 
and  invaded  by  agitations  of  the  world.  Among  all 
the  other  excitements  of  popularity,  there  came  also  the 
pleasant  excitement  of  a  new  church  about  to  be  built, 
of  size  proportioned  to  the  necessities  of  the  case.  The 
same  crowds  and  commotion  still  surrounded  the  Cale- 
donian chapel,  but  they  became  more  bearable  in  the 
prospect  of  more  roomy  quarters.  An  unfaihng  suc- 
cession of  private  as  well  as  pubHc  calls  upon  the  kind- 
ness, help,  and  hospitality  of  a  man  whom  everybody 
beheved  in,  and  who  proffered  kindness  to  all,  helped 
to  increase  the  incessant  motion  and  activity  of  that  full 
and  um'esting  life.     Thus  within  eighteen  months  after 


192  A    SIMTLE    rRKSBYTEH. 

his  arrival  in  TiOndoii  luid  the  Scotcli  preacher  won  the 
frieiulslii])  of  many,  not  sjiecially  open   to  members  of 
his  profession  ami  ehureh,  and  made  himself  a  centre 
of  personal  beneficences  not  to  be  counted.     If  ever 
pride  can  be  justified,  Edwai-d  Trvinsj!'  miixht  have  been 
justified  in  a  passing  tlirill  of  lliat  cxukaliuu  w\\r\\  lie 
brought  his  Avifc  from  llie  (juieL  manse  which  all  along 
liad  looked  on  and  watched  his  career,  not  sure  how  far 
its  daughter's  future  was  saf(>  in   the  ha)ids  of  a  man 
so  often  foiled,  yet  so  unsubduable,  to  place  her  in  a 
position  and  society  which  few  clergymen  of  his  church 
have  ever  attained,  and  indeed  which  few  men  in  any 
church,  liowever  titled  or  dignified,  could  equal.     The 
peculiarity  of  his  position   lay  in  the  fact  that  this 
singular  elevation  beloncjed  to  himself,  and  not  to  his 
rank,  whicli  -was  not  susceptible  of  change.     That  his 
influence   was   extended,  a  thousand- fold,  with   httle 
addition  to  his  means,  and  none  to  his  station,  and 
that  while  he  moved  amono;  men  of  the  hitrhest  intel- 
lect  and  position,  neither  his  transcendent  popularity 
nor  his  acknowledged  genius  ever  changed  that  primi- 
tive standi ng-gn-ound  of  priest  and  pastor  wliich  he 
always  held  with  primitive  tenacity.     The  charm  of 
that  conjunction  is  one  which  the  most  worldly  mind 
of  man  cannot  refuse  to  appreciate ;  and  perhaps  it  is 
only  on    the   members  of  a  church  which  owns  no 
possibihty  of  promotion,  that  such  a  deUcate  and  vision- 
ary though  real   rank  could  by  common  verdict  be 
bestowed. 


193 


CHArTER  IX. 

1824. 

The  year  1824  began  with  no  diminution  of  those 
incessant  labours.  It  is  wonderful  how  a  man  of  so 
great  a  frame,  and  of  out-of-door  tendencies  so  strong 
and  long  cherished,  should  have  been  able  to  bear,  as 
Irvuig  did,  confinement  in  one  of  the  most  town-like 
and  closely-inhabited  regions  of  London.  In  Penton- 
ville,  indeed,  faint  breaths  of  country  air  might  at  that 
period  be  supposed  to  breathe  along  the  tidy,  genteel 
streets;  but  in  Bloomsbury,  where  many  of  Irving's 
friends  resided,  or  in  the  dusty  ranges  of  Holborn, 
where  his  church  was,  no  such  refreshment  can  have 
been  practicable.  Nor  had  the  Presbyterian  minister 
any  rehef  from  curates,  or  assistance  of  any  kind.  His 
entire  pulpit  services — and,  according  to  his  own  con- 
fession, his  sermons  averaged  an  hour  and  a  quarter  in 
length  —  his  prayers,  as  much  exercises  of  the  intellect 
as  of  the  heart,  came  from  his  own  hps  and  mind,  un- 
aided by  the  intervention  of  any  other  man;  and  besides 
his  Hterary  labours,  and  the  incessant  demands  which 
his  great  reputation  brought  upon  him,  he  had  all  the 
pastoral  cares  of  his  own  large  congregation  to  attend 
to,  and  was  ready  at  the  call  of  the  sick,  the  friendless, 
and  the  stranger,  whensoever  they  addressed  him.    That 

VOL.  I.  0 


104  FAILrill-:    OF    IIKALTII. 

tliis  ovorwlielniing  amount  of  work,  combined  as 
it  wa:?  witli  all  the  excitement  inseparable  from  the 
poi^ition  of  a  popular  preacher  —  a  preacher  so  popular 
as  to  liave  his  church  besieged  every  da)^  it  was  0})ened 
— should  tell  uj)on  his  strength,  was  to  be  exjiected; 
and  accordinLrly  we  fmd  him  writing  in  the  followinii 
tenns  to  I^Ii'.  Collins  of  Glasgow,  the  publisher,  who 
had  taken  a  large  share  in  Dr.  Chalmers's  parochial 
work  in  St.  John's,  and  was  one  of  Irving's  steady 
friends.  Some  time  before  he  had  imdertaken  to  write 
a  ])reitice  to  a  new  edition  of  the  works  of  Bernard 
Gilpin,  which  is  the  matter  referred  to:  — 

«'  7  Middleton  Terrace,  24tli  February,  1824. 

'  My  dear  Mr.  Collins, — I  pray  you  not  for  a  moment  to 
imagine  that  I  have  any  other  intention,  so  long  as  God  gives 
me  strength,  than  to  fulfil  my  promise  faithfully.  I  am  at 
present  worked  beyond  my  strength,  and  you  know  that  is 
not  inconsiderable.  iMy  head  !  my  head !  I  may  say  with 
the  Shunamite's  child.  If  I  care  not  for  it,  the  world  will  soon 
cease  to  care  for  me  and  I  for  the  world.  If  you  saw  me 
many  a  night  unable  to  pray  with  my  wife,  and  forced  to  have 
recourse  to  forms  of  prayer,  you  would  at  once  discover  what 
hath  caused  my  delay.  I  have  no  resource  if  I  throw  myself 
up,  and  a  tiioasand  enemies  wait  for  my  stumbling  and  fall. 

"  I  am  now  better,  and  this  week  had  set  to  rise  at  six 
o'clock  and  finish  it,  but  I  have  not  been  able.  Next  week  I 
shall  make  the  attempt  again  and  again,  till  I  succeed ;  for 
upon  no  account,  and  for  no  sake,  will  I  touch  or  undertake 
aught  until  I  have  fulfilled  my  promise  in  respect  to  Gilpin. 
But  one  thing  I  will  say,  that  I  must  not  be  content  with  the 
preface  of  a  sermon  or  patches  of  a  sermon.  The  subject  is 
too  important — too  many  eyes  are  upon  me  —  and  the  interests 
of  religion  are  too  much  in  warped  in  certain  places  with  my 
cliaracter  and  writing,  that  I  should  not  do  my  best. 

"The  Lord  bless  you  and  all  his  true  servants. 

"  Your  faithful  friend, 

"  Edward  Irving." 


DETEEMINATIOX   TO  DO   HIS   WORK   THOROUGHLY.      195 

This  conscientious  determination  to  do  nothing  im- 
perfectly is,  amid  all  the  exaltation  and  excitement  of 
Irving's  position,  no  small  testimony  to  his  steadiness 
and  devout  modesty.  Adulation  had  not  been  able 
to  convince  him  that  his  name  was  sufficient  to  give 
credit  to  careless  writing,  nor  had  the  vehement  and 
glowhig  genius,  now  fully  enfranchised  and  acknow- 
ledged, learned  to  consider  itself  mdependent  of  industry 
and  painstaking  labours.  He  had  learned  what  criticism 
awaited  everything  he  wrote  ;  and  even  while  he  re- 
taliated manfully,  was  doubtless  warned  in  minor 
matters  by  the  storm  just  then  passing  over,  which  had 
been  raised  by  his  former  pubUcation. 

His  next  point  of  contact  ^\dth  the  astonished  and 
critical  world,  which  watched  for  a  false  step  on  his  part, 
and  was  ready  to  pounce  upon  anything,  from  an  im- 
perfect or  complicated  metaphor  to  an  unsound  doctrine, 
occurred  in  the  May  of  this  year,  when  he  had  been 
selected  to  preach  one  of  the  anniversary  sermons  of 
the  London  Missionary  Society.  The  invitation  to  do 
this  was  presumed  to  be  a  comphment  to  Irving,  and 
voucher  of  his  popularity,  as  well  as  a  prudent  enhst- 
ment  of  the  "  highest  talent,"  to  give  attraction  to  the 
yearly  solemnity  of  the  Society.  Had  the  London  com- 
mittee been  wise  they  would  scarcely  have  chosen  so 
daring  and  original  an  orator  to  celebrate  their  anni- 
versary ;  since  L?ving  w^as  exactly  the  man  whose 
opinions  or  sentiments  on  such  a  topic  were  not  to  be 
rashly  predicated.  The  prehmmaries  of  this  discourse, 
as  afterwards  described  by  himself,  were  not  such  as 
generally  usher  in  a  missionary  sermon.  Listead  of 
reading  up  the  records  of  the  society,  and  making  care- 

o  2 


liHi      rUia'AUKS  to  WKITI:  a  Mlij.'slO.NAIIY  SOCIKTY  OIIATIO.V 

fill  note  of  the  cniisos  for  congnitulatioii  ;iiul  Iminility, 
as  it  would  have  been  correct  to  have  clone — instead 
of  laying  u[)  materials  for  a  glowing  account  of  its  ])ro- 
grei«  and  panegyric  upon  it:?  missionaries,  Ii-ving's  pre- 
parations ran  in  the  following  extraordinary  channel: — 

"Having  lieen  requested  hy  the  London  Missionary  Society," 
he  writes,  "  to  preach  upon  the  occasion  of  their  last  anni- 
versary, I  wilhngly  complied,  without  much  thought  of  what 
I  was  undertaking;  but  when  I  came  to  reflect  upon  the 
sacredness  and  importance  of  the  cause  given  into  my  hands, 
and  the  dignity  of  the  audience  before  which  I  had  to  dis- 
course, it  seemed  to  my  conscience  that  I  had  undertaken  a 
duty  full  of  peril  and  responsibility,  for  whicli  T  ought  to 
prepare  myself  wath  every  preparation  of  the  mind  and  of  the 
spirit.  To  this  end,  retiring  into  the  quiet  and  peaceful 
country,  among  a  society  of  men  devoted  to  every  good  and 
cliaritable  work,  I  searched  the  Scriptures  in  secret;  and  in 
their  pious  companies  conversed  of  the  convictions  which 
were  secretly  brought  to  my  mind  concerning  the  missionary 
work.  And  thus,  not  without  much  prayer  to  God  and  self- 
devotion,  I  meditated  those  things  which  I  delivered  in  public 
Ijefore  the  reverend  and  pious  men  who  had  honoured  me 
with  so  great  a  trust." 

It  may  easily  be  supposed  that  a  discourse,  thus  pre- 
meditated and  composed  by  a  man  whose  youth  was 
full  of  missionary  projects,  such  as  no  practical  nine- 
teenth century  judgment  could  designate  otherwise  than 
as  the  wildest  romance,  was  not  likely  to  come  to  such 
a  sermon  as  should  content  the  London  or  any  other 
Missionary  Society.  It  was  not  an  exposition  of  the 
character  of  a  missionary,  as  apprehended  by  an  heroic 
mind,  capable  of  the  labours  it  described,  whicli  had 
been  either  wished  or  requested.  But  the  directors  of 
the  Society,  having  rashly  tackled  with  a  man  occupied, 
Dot  with  their  most  laudable  pursuits  and  interests,  but 


"  FOR  MISSIOXARIES  AFTEE  THE  APOSTOLICAL  SCHOOL."    197 

with  the  abstract  truth,  had  to  pay  the  inevitable 
penahy.  The  day  came.  In  preparation  for  a  great 
audience  the  chapel  in  Tottenham  Court  Eoad,  once 
known  as  the  Tabernacle,  and  built  for  Wliitfield,  was 
selected.  The  day  was  wet  and  dreary,  but  the  im- 
mense building  was  crowded  long  before  the  hour  of 
meeting,  many  finding  it  impossible  to  get  admittance. 
So  early  was  the  congregation  assembled,  that  to  keep 
so  vast  a  throng  occupied,  the  officials  considered  it 
wise  to  begin  the  prehminary  services  a  full  hour 
before  the  time  appointed.  Wlien  the  preacher  ap- 
peared at  last,  his  discourse  was  so  long  that  he  had  to 
pause,  according  to  the  primitive  custom  of  Scotland, 
twice  during  its  course,  the  congregation  in  the  intervals 
singing  some  verses  of  a  hymn.  One  of  the  hearers  on 
that  occasion  tells  that,  for  three  hours  and  a  half,  he, 
only  a  youth,  and  though  a  fervent  admirer  of  the 
orator,  still  susceptible  to  fatigue,  sat  jammed  in  and 
helpless  near  the  pulpit,  unable  to  extricate  himself 
All  this  might  have  but  added  to  the  triumph  ;  and 
even  so  early  in  his  career  it  seems  to  have  been  under- 
stood of  Irving,  that  the  necessity  of  coming  to  an  end 
did  not  occur  to  him,  and  that  not  the  hour,  but  the 
subject,  timed  his  addresses,  so  that  his  audience  were 
partly  warned  of  what  they  had  to  look  for.  But  the 
oration  which  burst  upon  their  astonished  ears  was 
quite  a  different  matter.  It  had  no  connection  with  the 
London  Missionary  Society.  It  was  the  ideal  missionary 
— the  Apostle  lost  behind  the  veil  of  centmies — the 
Evangelist,  commissioned  of  God,  who  had  risen  out 
of  Scriptm'e  and  the  primeval  ages  upon  the  gaze  of 
the  preacher.     He  discoursed  to  the  startled  throng, 


198  THE   WAXDERINO    APOSTLE. 

met  there  to  bo  asked  for  suhscriptioiis — to  htive  their 
interest  stiniulateil  in  tlie  regukitions  of  the  committee, 
ami  tlieir  eyes  directed  towards  its  wortliy  and  respect- 
able representatives,  each  drawing  a  little  congregation 
about  liim  in  some  corner  of  the  earth  —  of  a  man  with- 
out stiifT  or  scriji,  witliout  banker  or  provision,  abiding 
with  whomsoever  would  receive  him,  speaking  in  haste 
his  burning  message,  pressmg  on  without  pause  or  rest 
through  the  world  that  lay  in  wickedness  —  an  Apostle 
responsible  to  no  man — a  messenger  of  the  cross.  The 
intense  reaUty  natural  to  one  who  had  all  but  em1)raccd 
that  austere  martjT  vocation  in  his  own  person,  gave 
force  to  the  picture  he  di'ew.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
that  it  was  foolishness  to  most  of  his  hearers,  and  that, 
after  the  fascination  of  his  eloquence  was  over,  nine- 
tenths  of  them  would  recollect,  with  utter  wonder,  or 
even  with  possible  contempt,  that  wildest  visionaiy  con- 
ception. But  that  it  was  true  for  him,  nobody,  I  think, 
who  has  followed  his  course  thus  far,  will  be  disposed 
either  to  doubt  or  to  deny. 

The  ^vildest  hubl^ub  rose,  Vs  was  natural,  after  this 
extraordinary  utterance.  It  would  not  liave  been 
wonderful  if  the  irritated  London  Society,  balked  at 
once  of  its  triumph,  and  the  advantage  to  be  derived 
from  a  wise  advocacy  of  its  cause,  had  set  down  this 
unlooked-for  address  as  a  direct  piece  of  antagonism 
and  premeditated  injury.  I  am  not  aware  that  any- 
body ever  did  so  ;  but  I  allow  that  it  might  have  been 
alleged  with  some  show  of  justice.  To  judge  of 
Ining's  course  on  this  occasion  by  mere  ordinary  laws 
of  human  action,  it  would  not  be  very  difficult  to  make 
out  that  somehow,  piqued  or  affronted  by  the  Society, 


CONSTEKNATION    OF   THE   AUDIENCE.  199 

or  at  least  disapproving  of  it  while  pretending  to  serve 
it,  he  had  taken  ojDportunity  of  the  occasion,  and  done 
his  best  to  place  it  in  a  false  position  before  its  friends 
and  supporters.  The  fact  was  as  different  as  can  well 
be  conceived.  Eesolute  to  give  them  of  his  best,  as  he 
himself  describes,  and  judging  the  "  reverend  and  pious 
men  "  whom  he  was  about  to  address,  as  free  to  follow 
out  the  truth  as  himself,  the  conscientious,  simple- 
minded  preacher  went  down  to  the  depths  of  his 
subject,  and,  all  forgetful  of  committees  and  rules  of 
"  practical  usefuhiess,"  set  before  them  the  impossible 
missionary — the  man  not  trained  in  any  college  or  by 
any  method  yet  invented — the  man  the  speaker  himself 
could  and  would  have  been,  but  for  what  he  considered 
the  interposition  of  Providence.  The  amazed  and 
doubtful  silence,  the  unwilhng  fascination  with  which 
they  must  have  hstened  through  these  inevitable  hours 
to  that  visionary  in  his  visionary  description — watcliing 
in  impatience  and  helpless  indignation  while  the  wild 
but  subhme  picture  of  a  man  who  certainly  could  not 
be  identified  among  their  own  excellent  but  unsubhme 
messengers,  rose  before  the  multitudinous  audience  in 
which,  a  little  while  before,  official  eyes  must  have  re- 
joiced over  a  host  of  new  subscribers,  —  all,  alas ! 
meltmg  away  under  the  eloquence  of  this  splendid 
Malaprop,  —  may  be  easily  imagined.  One  can  fancy 
what  a  rehef  the  end  of  this  discourse  must  have  been 
to  the  pent-up  wrath  and  dismay  of  the  missionary 
committee ;  and  indeed  it  is  impossible  not  to  sympa- 
tliize  with  them  in  their  unlooked-for  discomfiture. 

In  the  meantime,  preoccupied  and  lost  in  the  con- 
templation of  that  most  true,  yet  most  impossible  ser- 


2iK»  wuATii  oi'  Tin:  im;i.I(;iol\s  would. 

vant  of  God,  wlioiii  hv  bad  evoked  from  the  jiast  and 
the  future  to  which  all  thiui^s  arc  possible,  L'ving, 
all  unaware  of  the  commotion  he  had  caused,  went  on 
liis  way,  not  dreaming  that  anybody  could  suppose  the 
present  niachineiy  and  economics  of  common-i)lace 
missionaiy  work  injured  l>y  llial  hiu:li  vision  of  the 
perfection  of  a  character  which  has  been,  and  which 
yet  may  be  agaui.  lie  says,  he  "  was  prepared  to  resist 
any  application  which  might  possibly  be  made  to  me  " 
to  publish  liis  sermon  ;  an  entirely  urniecessary  precau- 
tion, since  the  complacency  of  the  London  Society 
evidently  did  not  carry  them  the  length  of  paying  the 
preacher  of  so  unwelcome  an  address  that  customary 
comphment.  But  in  the  commotion  that  followed — in 
the  vexation  and  WTath  of  "  the  rehgious  world,"  and  the 
astonished  outcry  of  eveiybody  connected  with  missions, 
the  preacher,  not  less  astonished  than  themselves,  disco- 
vered that  his  doctrine  was  new,  and  unwelcome  to  the 
reverend  and  pious  men  for  whose  hearing  he  had  so 
carefully  prepared  it.  A\nien  he  heard  his  high  con- 
ception of  the  missionaiy  character  denounced  as  an 
ill-timed  rhetorical  display  —  and  that  which  he  had 
devoutly  drawn  from  the  only  inspired  picture  of  such 
messengers  characterised  as  not  only  visionary  and  wild, 
but  an  imphed  hbel  upon  their  present  representatives, 
liis  sincere  heart  was  roused  and  startled.  He  went 
back  to  his  New  Testament,  the  only  store  of  informa- 
tion he  knew  of.  He  drew  forth  Paul  and  Barnabas, 
Peter  and  John,  first  missionaries,  apostles  sent  of  God. 
The  longer  he  pondered  over  them  the  more  his  pic- 
ture rose  and  expanded.  Was  not  Llie  errand  the  same, 
the  promise  of  God  the  same  ? — and  why  should  the 


A   MAKTYE-MISSIONARY.  201 

character  of  the  mdividual  be  so  clifTerent?  The 
natural  result  followed  :  confirmed  by  farther  examina- 
tion, and  strengthened  by  opposition,  the  sermon  en- 
larged, and  grew  into  an  appeal  to  the  world.  Pity, 
always  one  of  the  strongest  principles  in  his  soul,  came 
in  to  quicken  his  action.  A  missionary  in  Demerara, 
who  had  apostolically  occupied  himself  in  the  instruc- 
tion of  slaves,  had  been  arrested  by  an  arbitrary 
planter-legislation,  upon  some  outbreak  of  the  negroes, 
on  the  false  and  cruel  charge  of  havuig  incited  them  to 
insurrection,  and  had  been  actually,  by  Enghshmen, 
found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to  death  in  consequence. 
The  sentence  was  not  carried  out,  fortunately  for  those 
who  pronounced  it;  but  the  unfortimate  missionary, 
already  ill,  and  savagely  incarcerated,  died  a  martyr  to 
the  cruelty  which  had  not  yet  dared  to  bring  him  to 
the  scaffold.  The  case,  an  ugly  precedent  to  other  cases 
in  another  country,  which  we  find  ourselves  now  at  full 
hberty  to  stigmatise  as  they  deserve,  awoke  the  horror 
and  compassion  of  England ;  and  when  the  forlorn 
widow  returned  home,  Irving,  eager  to  show  his  sym- 
pathy and  compassion,  and  finding  the  name  of  a  mis- 
sionary martyr  most  fit  to  be  connected  with  his  picture 
of  the  missionary  character,  came  once  more  before 
the  world  with  the  obnoxious  discourse,  which  liis  first 
hearers  had  not  asked  him  to  print. 

"  Being  unable  in  any  other  way,"  he  says,  "  to  testify  my 
sense  of  his  injuries,  and  my  feeling  of  the  duty  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  to  support  his  widow,  I  resolved  that  I  would  do 
so  by  devoting  to  her  use  this  fruit  of  my  heart  and  spirit. 
Thus  moved,  I  gave  notice  that  I  would  pubhsh  the  discourse, 
and  give  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  into  her  hands.  Wlien 
again  I  came  to  meditate  upon  this  second  engagement  which 


201  rriJLICATlON    oy   TIIH    OltATlOX. 

I  had  como  undor,  and  took  into  consideration  tlio  novelty  of 
the  doctrine  which  I  was  about  to  promnli^ate,  I  set  myself  to 
examine  the  wliole  subject  anew,  and  opened  my  ear  to  every 
objection  which  I  cimlii  liear  from  any  quarter,  nothing 
repelled  by  the  uncharitable  coustrtictions  and  ridiculous 
account  which  was  often  rendered  of  my  views ;  the  effect  of 
which  was,  to  convince  me  that  the  doctrine  which  I  had 
advanced  w;us  true,  but  of  so  novel  and  unpalatal)le  a  charac- 
ter, that  if  it  was  to  do  any  good,  or  even  to  live,  it  must  be 
l>rought  ])efore  the  public  with  a  more  minute  investigation 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  fuller  development  of  reason,  than 
could  be  contained  w^itliin  the  compass  of  a  single  discourse. 
To  give  it  this  more  convincing  and  more  living  form  was 
the  occupation  of  my  little  leisure  from  pastoral  and  minis- 
terial duties,  rendered  still  less  during  the  summer  montlis 
by  the  indifference  of  my  bodily  health  ;  and  it  was  not  until 
the  few  weeks  of  rest  and  recreation  which  I  enjoyed  in  the 
autumn  that  I  was  able  to  perceive  the  true  form  and  full 
extent  of  the  argument  which  is  necessary  to  make  good  my 
position." 

As  this  is  the  first  point  upon  which  Irving  fairly 
parted  company  with  liis  evangehcal  l)ret]iren,  and 
exasperated  that  large,  active,  and  influential  commu- 
nity which,  as  he  somewhere  says,  not  without  a  little 
bitterness,  "  calls  itself  the  religious  world  ;"  and  as  it 
discloses  \\4th  singidar  force  the  temper  and  constitu- 
tion of  his  mind,  I  may  be  permitted  to  enter  into  it 
more  fully  than  one  of  his  shortest  and  least  complete 
puljlications  might  seem  to  deserve.  He  himself  ex- 
plains, in  a  very  noble  and  elevated  strain,  the  manner 
in  which  he  was  led  to  consider  the  character  of  the 
gospel  missionary.  lie  was  present  at  one  of  tlie  great 
missionary  meetings  in  the  metropolis,  those  meetings 
with  which  aU  the  British  pubhc  have  more  or  less 
acquaintance,  and  which  ajUect  audiences  as  wealthy, 
an  devout,  and  as  estimable  as  can  be  found  anywhere, 


AN   EXETEE   HALL   MEETING.  203 

yet  which  are,  as  everybody  must  allow,  and  as  many 
uneasily  feel,  as  unhke  apostohcal  conferences  as  can 
well  be  imagined.  In  such  an  assembly,  "  where  the 
heads  and  leaders  of  the  religious  world  were  present,"  a 
speaker,  whose  name  Irving  does  not  mention,  expressed 
himself  amid  great  applause  in  the  following  manner  : — 
"  If  I  were  asked  what  was  the  first  quahfication  for  a 
missionary,  I  would  say.  Prudence;  and  what  the  second? 
Prudence,  and  what  the  third?  still  I  would  answer,  Pru- 
dence." The  effect  wliich  such  a  statement  was  hke  to 
have  upon  one  listener,  at  least,  in  the  assembly,  may 
well  be  imagined.  Startled  and  disgusted,  he  went  away, 
not  to  examine  into  the  memoirs  of  missionaries,  or  the 
balance  sheets  of  societies,  but  into  the  primitive  mis- 
sion and  its  regulations.  He  finds  that  faith,  and  not 
prudence,  is  the  apostolic  rule.  He  finds  that  rehgious 
faith  alone  has  the  prerogative  of  withstanding  "this  evil 
bent  of  prudence  to  become  the  death  of  all  ideal  and 
invisible  things,  whether  poetry,  sentiment,  heroism,  dis- 
interestedness, or  faith."  He  finds  that  the  visionary 
soul  of  good,  which  in  other  matters  is  opposed  to  and 
conquered  by  the  real,  is  in  faith  alone  unconquerable, 
the  essence  of  its  nature.  He  then  touches  upon  the 
only  particular  in  which  the  early  mission  differs  from 
the  mission  in  aU  ages,  the  power  of  working  miracles, 
and  asks  whether  the  lack  of  this  faculty  makes  an 
entire  change  of  method  and  procedure  necessary? 
With  lofty  indignation  he  adds  the  conclusion  which 
has  been  arrived  at  by  the  rehgious  world  :  — 

"  The  consistency  of  the  Christian  doctrine  with  everlasting 
truth  is  nothing ;  the  more  than  chivalrous,  the  divine  intre- 
pidity and  disinterestedness  of  its  teachers  is  nothing ;   the 


•J04      rUOTCST  AG.UNST  TllE   MAC'IllNKKY  OF  EVANGELISM. 

response  of  every  conscience  to  the  word  of  the  preacher  is 
nothing:  the  promise  of  God's  Spirit  is  nothing;  it  is  all  to 
he  resolved  hy  the  visible  work,  the  outward  show  of  a 
miracle.  .  .  .  The  Gospel  owed  its  success  in  the  first 
ages  wholly  to  this,  or  to  this  almost  wholly ;  hut  for  us,  we 
must  accommodate  ourselves  to  the  absence  of  these  super- 
natural means,  and  go  about  the  work  in  a  reasonable, 
prudent  way,  if  we  would  succeed  in  it ;  calculate  it  as  the 
merchant  does  an  adventure ;  set  it  forth  as  the  statesman 
does  a  colony  ;  raise  the  ways  and  means  within  the  year,  and 
expend  them  within  the  year  ;  and  so  go  on  as  long  as  we 
can  get  our  accounts  to  balance." 

Tills  conclusion  the  preacher  then  sets  himself  to 
overthrow,  by  propounding  the  character  of  the  "  'Mis- 
sionary after  the  apostohc  school,"  which,  although  pre- 
faced with  due  acknowledgment  of  "the  high  and 
seated  dignity  which  this  Society  hath  attained  in  the 
judgment  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  the  weighty  and 
well-earned  reputation  which  it  hath  obtained,  not  in 
Christendom  alone,  but  over  the  widest  bounds  of  the 
habitable  earth,"  was  mdisputably  contrary  to  the  very 
idea  of  missions,  as  held  and  carried  on  by  such 
societies.  Only  the  first  part  of  a  work,  intended  to  be 
completed  in  four  parts,  was  given  to  the  world,  the  mind 
of  the  preacher  being  more  deeply  engrossed  from  day 
to  day  in  that  law  of  God  whicli  was  his  meditation 
day  and  night,  and  directed  ever  to  new  unfolding  of 
doctrine  and  iiistruction.  Tliis  pubhcation  was  dedi- 
cated to  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  in  the  remarkable 
letter  which  follows. 

"My  dear  and  honocred  P'riend, —  Unknown  as  you  are 
in  the  true  character  of  your  mind  or  your  heart  to  the 
greater  part  of  your  countrymen,  and  misrepresented  as  your 


DEDICATION   TO   COLERIDGE,  205 

works  have  been  by  those  who  have  the  ear  of  the  vulgar,  it 
will  seem  wonderful  to  many  that  I  should  make  choice  of 
you  from  the  circle  of  my  friends,  to  dedicate  to  you  these 
beginnings  of  my  thoughts  upon  the  most  important  subject 
of  these  or  any  times  ;  and  when  I  state  the  reason  to  be,  that 
you  have  been  more  profitable  to  my  faith  in  orthodox  doc- 
trine, to  my  spiritual  understanding  of  the  Word  of  God,  and 
to  my  right  conception  of  the  Christian  Church  than  any  or 
all  the  men  with  whom  I  have  entertained  friendship  and 
conversation,  it  will,  perhaps,  still  more  astonish  the  mind, 
and  stagger  the  belief  of  those  who  have  adopted,  as  once  I 
did  myself,  the  misrepresentations  which  are  purchased  for  a 
hire  and  vended  for  a  price,  concerning  your  character  and 
works.  ...  I  have  partaken  so  much  high  intellectual  enjoy- 
ment from  being  admitted  into  the  close  and  familiar  inter- 
course with  which  you  have  honoured  me ;  and  your  many 
conversations  concerning  the  revelations  of  the  Christian  faith 
have  been  so  profitable  to  me  in  every  sense,  as  a  student  and 
preacher  of  the  gospel ;  as  a  spiritual  man  and  a  Christian 
pastor ;  and  your  high  intelligence  and  great  learning  have 
at  all  times  so  kindly  stooped  to  my  ignorance  and  inexperi- 
ence, that  not  merely  with  the  affection  of  friend  to  friend, 
and  the  honour  due  from  youth  to  experienced  age,  but  with 
the  gratitude  of  a  disciple  to  a  wise  and  generous  teacher, 
of  an  anxious  inquirer  to  the  good  man  who  hath  helped  him 
in  the  way  of  truth,  I  do  presume  to  offer  you  the  first  fruits 
of  my  mind  since  it  received  a  new  impulse  towards  truth, 
and  a  new  insight  into  its  depths  from  listening  to  your  dis- 
course. Accept  them  in  good  part,  and  be  assured  that, 
however  insignificant  in  themselves,  they  are  the  offerino-  of 
a  heart  which  loves  your  heart,  and  of  a  mind  which  looks 
up  with  reverence  to  your  mind. 

"Edwaed  Ieving." 


These  lavisli  thanks,  bestowed  with  a  rash  prodi- 
gality, which  men  of  less  generous  and  effusive  tem- 
perament could  never  be  brought  to  understand,  were, 
according  to  all  ordinary  rules  of  reason,  profoundly 


206  LAVISH    ACKX0W1.1-DGMKXTS. 

inipnulont.  To  put  siicli  n  unino  as  lliat  of  Coleridge*, 
under  any  ciivunistances,  on  a  woik  ^vlli(•ll  its  autlior 
wjv<  already  a.ssured  would  be  examined  with  tlie  most 
eager  and  angry  jealousy,  and  in  which  a  great  many 
of  his  religious  contemporaries  would  but  too  gladly 
find  some  suspicious  tendency,  was  of  itself  imjirudcnt. 
But  so,  I  fear,  waa  the  man  to  whom  giving  of  thanks 
and  rendering  of  acknowledgments  was  always  jojrfully 
confrenial.  It  was  not  in  his  nature  either  to  ffuard 
himself  from  the  suspicion  of  having  received  more 
than  he  really  had  received,  or  to  provide  against  the 
danger  of  connecting  himself  openly  with  all  whom  he 
loved  or  honoured. 

This  pubhcation  was  received  with  shouts  of  angry 
criticism  from  all  sides,  and  called  forth  an  Expostida- 
tory  Letter  from  j\Ii'.  W.  Orme,  the  secretary  of  the 
outraged  ^Missionary  Society.  This  letter  is  exactly 
such  a  letter  as  the  secretary  of  a  missionary  society, 
suddenly  put  upon  its  defence,  would  l)e  likely  to  write, 
full  of  summar}"  applications  of  the  argumentum  ad 
homiiiem,  and  much  pious  indignation.  Between  the 
preacher  and  his  assailant  it  would  be  altogether  im- 
possil^le  to  decide  ;  they  were  concerned  with  questions 

•  In  Leigh  Hunt's  correspondence,  published  since  the  above  was 
written,  occurs  the  following  notice  of  this  dedication  in  a  letter  from 
Charles  Lamb  :  "  I  have  got  acquainted  with  Mr.  Irving,  the  Scotch 
preacher,  whose  lame  must  have  reached  you.  Judge  how  his  own 
Bectarists  must  stare  when  I  tell  you  he  has  dedicated  a  book  to 
S.  T.  C,  acknowledging  to  have  learnt  more  from  him  than  from  all 
the  men  he  ever  conversed  with.  He  is  a  most  amiable,  sincere, 
modest  man  in  a  room,  this  Boanerges  in  the  temple.  Mrs.  Montii- 
gu  told  him  the  dedication  would  do  him  no  good,  '  That  shall  be  a 
rea-son  for  doing  it,'  was  his  answer."  The  kind  Elia  adds,  "  Judge, 
now,  whether  this  man  be  a  quack." 


COLDNESS   AND   ESTRANGEMENT.  207 

in  reality  quite  distinct,  though  in  name  the  same  ;  the 
one  regarding  the  matter  as  an  individual  man,  capable 
of  all  the  labour  and  self-denial  he  described,  might 
reasonably  regard  it ;  the  other  looking  upon  it  with 
the  troubled  eyes  of  a  society,  whose  business  it  was 
to  acquire  and  train  and  send  forth  such  men,  and 
which  had  neither  leisure  nor  inchnation  to  consider  any- 
thing which  was  not  practicable.  It  is  entirely  a  drawn 
battle  between  them  ;  nor  could  it  have  been  otherwise 
had  a  champion  equal  to  the  assailant  taken  the  field. 

But  the  religious  world  was  too  timid  to  perceive  the 
matter  in  this  hght.  To  attack  its  methods  was 
nothing  less  than  to  attack  its  object,  nor  would  it 
permit  itself  to  see  differently ;  and  a  man  who  ac- 
knowledged, with  even  unnecessary  warmth  and  frank- 
ness, the  instruction  he  had  received  from  one  who 
certainly  was  not  an  authorised  guide  in  religious 
matters,  and  who  proffered  to  them  a  splendid  antique 
ideal  instead  of  the  practicable  modern  missionary, 
became  a  man  suspect  and  dangerous :  and  the  cold- 
ness, of  which  he  again  and  again  complains,  rose  an 
invisible  barrier  between  the  fervent  preacher  and  the 
reverend  and  pious  men  to  whom,  in  all  simpHcity  and 
honest  endeavour  to  lay  his  best  before  them,  he  had 
offered  only  the  unusual  and  startling  truths  which 
they  could  not  receive. 

While  all  this  was  going  on  Irving's  life  proceeded 
in  the  same  full  stream  of  undiminished  popularity 
and  personal  labour.  Besides  the  passing  crowds  which 
honoured  and  embarrassed  the  chapel  in  Cross  Street, 
its  congregation  had  legitimately  increased  into  dimen- 
sions which  the  pastor,  single-handed,  could  not  dream 


208  THK    rRKSBYTKRIAX   K1>1)K1{S11II'. 

(if  rotniiiing  tlie  lull  siijH'rintiMultMU'e  of;  noillior,  if  ho 
I'ould  liavo  (lone  it,  woukl  such  a  sUitc  of  thiuirs  liavc 
been  consistent  witli  Pivshytei-inn  order.  He  seems  to 
liave  liad  l)ut  one  elder  to  yield  liini  the  aid  and 
countenance  with  whicli  rresbyterianism  accompanies 
its  ministers.  Accordingly  from  the  summer  retire- 
ment at  Sydenliam,  which  he  alludes  to  in  tlie  preiixce 
l(»  his  missionary  oration,  he  sent  the  following  letter, 
an  exposition  of  the  office  to  whicli  he  invited  his 
friend,  to  William  Hamilton  :  — 

*'  Sydenham,  2iid  Juno,  182i. 

"  Dear  Sir, —  It  has  for  a  long  time  been  the  anxious  desire 
and  prayer,  and  the  subject  of  frequent  conversation  to  Mr. 
I)iu\vid(he  and  myself,  that  the  Lord  would  direct  us  in 
the  selection  of  men  from  amongst  the  congregation  to  fill 

the  office  of  elders  amongst  us And  now,  my  dear 

lirother,  I  write  to  lay  this  matter  before  you,  that  you  may 
cast  it  in  your  rnind,  and  make  it  the  subject  of  devout 
meditation  and  prayer.  That  you  may  be  rightly  informed 
of  the  nature  of  this  office  I  refer  you  to  Titus  i.  6 ;  1 
Timothy  v.  17;  Acts  xx.  17;  and  that  you  may  further  know 
tlie  powers  with  which  the  founders  of  our  Church  have 
invested  this  office,  I  extract  the  following  passage  from  the 
second  book  of  iJiscifdine,  drawn  up  and  adopted  by  the 
General  As-serably  f<jr  the  regulation  of  the  Church  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  1590. —  Book  2nd,  chapter  vi.* 


•  The  quotation  is  as  follows:  — "  Wliat  manner  of  persons  they 
ought  to  be,  we  refer  it  to  the  express  word,  and  mainly  to  the 
canons  written  by  the  Apostle  Paul. 

"  Their  office  is,  both  severally  and  conjointly,  to  watch  over  the 
flock  committed  to  their  care,  both  publicly  and  privately,  that  no 
corruption  of  religion  or  manners  enter  therein. 

"  As  the  pastors  and  doctors  should  be  diligent  in  teaching,  and 
sowing  the  seed  of  the  Word;  so  the  elders  should  be  careful  in 
seeking  after  the  fruit  of  the  same  in  the  people. 


ITS    DUTIES   AND    PRIVILEGES.  209 

"  And  now  we  pray  of  you,  onr  dear  and  worthy  brother,  to 
join  with  us  and  help  us  in  the  duty  for  which  we  are  our- 
selves unequal,  of  administering  rightly  the  spiritual  affairs 
of  the  congregation.  No  one  feels  himself  to  be  able  for  the 
duties  of  a  Christian,  much  less  of  the  overseer  of  Christians ; 
and  you  may  feel  unwilling  to  engage  in  that  for  which  you 
may  think  yourself  unworthy.  But  we  pray  you  to  trust  in 
the  Lord,  who  giveth  grace  according  to  our  desire  of  it,  and 
perfects  his  strength  in  -our  weakness.  If  you  refuse,  we 
know  not  which  way  to  look ;  for,  as  the  Lord  knoweth,  we 
have  fixed  upon  you  and  the  other  four  brethren  because 
you  seemed  to  us  the  most  worthy.  I,  as  your  pastor,  will 
do  my  utmost  endeavour  to  instruct  you  in  the  duties  of  the 
eldership.  I  shall  be  ready  at  every  spiritual  call  to  go  and 
minister  along  with  you ;  and,  by  the  grace  of  God,  having 
no  private  ends  known  to  me  but  the  single  end  of  God's 
glory,  and  the  edification  of  the  people,  we  who  are  at 
present  of  the  session  will  join  with  you  hand  in  hand  in 
every  good  and  gracious  work 

*'  If  you  feel  a  good  will  to  the  work  —  a  wish  to  profit 
and  make  progress  in  your  holy  calling  —  and  a  desire  after 
the  edification  of  the  Church,  the  gifts  will  be  given  you,  and 
the  graces  will  not  be  withheld.  Therefore,  if  it  can  be 
consistently  with  your  conscience  and  judgment,  we  pray  you 
and  entreat  you  to  accept  of  our  solicitation,  and  to  allow 

"  It  appertains  to  them  to  assist  the  pastor  in  the  examination  of 
them  that  come  to  the  Lord's  table  :     Item,  in  visiting  the  sick. 

"  They  should  cause  the  Acts  of  the  Assemblies,  as  well  particular 
as  general,  to  ho  piit  in  execution  carefully. 

"  They  should  be  diligent  in  admonishing  all  men  of  their  duty 
according  to  the  rule  of  the  Evangel. 

"  Things  that  they  cannot  correct  by  private  admonition  they 
must  bring  to  the  eldership. 

"  Their  principal  office  is  to  hold  assemblies  with  the  pastors  and 
doctors  who  are  also  of  their  number,  for  establishing  of  good  order 
and  execution  of  discipline,  unto  the  which  assemblies  all  persons 
are  subject  that  remain  within  their  boimds." 

This  latter  is  the  formidable  institution  of  the  Kirk  Session,  which 
bears  so  large  a  part  in  Scottish  domestic  annals,  and  has  been  sub- 
ject, in  later  days,  to  so  much  ignorant  invective. 

VOL.  I.  P 


210  IIJVINC    roIJMS    HIS    KTKK    SF.SSIOX. 

yourself  to  be  coiistraincMl  l)y  the  need  iind  importunity  of  tlie 
Church  to  he  unmed  for  tliis  holy  oHice. 

"  On  Friday,  next  week,  I  shall  come  and  spend  the  evening 
at  your  house,  and  converse  with  you  on  this  matter ;  mean- 
while, accept  of  my  heartfelt  wishes  for  your  spiritual  Avelfare, 
and  let  us  n-joice  together  in  tlw  work  wliich  the  Lord  is 
working  in  the  midst  of  us.  I  know  that  you  will  not  take 
it  amiss  that  I  have  used  the  hand  of  my  wife  in  copying  off 
this  letter — [up  to  this  point,  the  letter  had  been  in  Mrs. 
Irving's  angular  feminine  handwriting ;  but  here  her 
husband's  bolder  charaeters  strike  in] — who  is  well  worthy 
of  the  trust,  although  I  cannot  bring  her  to  think  or  write  so. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  brother, 
"  Your  most  affectionate  pastor  and  friend, 

"EnwAiin  Irving." 

Tliis  apostolical  rescript,  warmed  with  the  quaint 
touch  of  domestic  affection  at  the  end,  accomplished  its 
purpose,  and  the  excellent  man  who  had  all  along  been 
L'ving's  referee  and  assistant  in  everj'thing  personal  to 
himself,  his  friends,  and  charities,  became  one  of  the 
rulers  and  recognised  overseers  of  the  Church,  which 
henceforward  had,  hke  other  Presbyterian  congre- 
gations, its  orthodox  session,  in  which  fr)r  years  the 
preaclier  found  nothing  but  fervent  sympathy,  appre- 
ciation, and  assistance. 

A  little  further  on  we  are  introduced  into  the 
bosom  of  the  modest  home  in  Pentonville,  where 
domestic  life  and  its  events  had  now  begun  to  expand 
tlie  history  of  the  man.  The  swell  of  personal  joy 
with  which  the  following  letter  Ijreaks  into  the  record 
of  outside  events  and  interests,  will  charm  most  people 
who  have  had  occasion  to  send  similar  announcements. 
It  is  addressed  to  Dr.  ^Martin  : — 


BIETH    OF    LITTLE    EDWARD.  211 

♦ 
"  Peutonville,  22nd  July,  1824. 

"  My  deak  Father, — Isabella  was  safely  delivered  of  a  boy 
(whom  may  the  Lord  bless),  at  half-past  eleven  this  forenoon, 
and  is,  with  her  child,  doing  well ;  and  the  grandmother, 
aunt,  and  father  newly  constituted,  with  the  mother,  are 
rejoicing  in  the  grace  and  goodness  of  God. 

"  Mrs.  Martin  and  Margaret  are  both  well,  and  salute  you 
grandfather,  wishing  with  all  our  hearts  that  you  may  never 
lay  down  the  name,  but  enjoy  it  while  you  live. 

"  I  am  well,  and  I  think  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  is  pros- 
pering in  my  hand.  A  wide  door  and  effectual  is  opened  to 
me,  and  the  Lord  is  opening  my  own  eyes  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth.  Your  arrival  and  our  great-grandfather's, 
(whom,  with  all  the  grand-aunts,  salute  in  our  name — I  know 
not  what  they  owe  us  for  such  accumulated  honours)  is  ex- 
pected with  much  anxiety.  I  feel  I  shall  be  much  strength- 
ened by  your  presence. 

«  Your  dutiful  Son, 

"  Edward  Irving." 

This  child — child  of  a  love,  and  hope,  and  sorrow  not 
to  be  described  ;  celebrated,  afterwards,  as  poet's  child 
has  rarely  been,  by  such  subhmated  grief  and  pathetic 
resignation  as  have  wept  over  few  graves  so  infantine — 
was  afterwards  baptized,  by  the  great-grandfather  above 
referred  to,  in  the  presence  of  the  two  intermediate  gene- 
rations of  his  blood.  The  child  was  called  Edward ; 
and  was  to  his  father,  with  emphatic  and  touching 
verity,  "his  excellency  and  the  beginning  of  his  strength." 
The  httle  tale  of  his  existence  sent  echoes  through  all 
the  strong  man's  life — echoes  so  tender  and  full  of  such 
heart-breaking  pathos,  as  I  think  no  human  sorrow 
ever  surpassed.  In  the  meantime,  however,  all  was 
thankfulness  in  the  increased  household ;  and  the 
patriarchal  assemblage  of  kindred,  father,  and  father's 

p  2 


•2\-2  PKIISONAL   CHARITIES. 

fatlior,  could    liavr    ])ro))]icsic(l  notliin^    l)ut    life    and 
Icuurth  of  days  to  the  cliild  of  such  a  viiijorous  race. 

Along  \vith  all  the  public  and  domestic  occiuTcnces 
^vhil•h  lillc'd  this   busy   life,  there   are  coimccted  such 
links  of  charity  and  })rivate  beneficence  as  put  richer 
and  idler  men   to  shame.      Living's  charity  was  not 
alms,  but  that  primitive   kindness   of  the  open  house 
and  shared  meal,  which  is  of  all  modes  of  charity  the 
most  diificult  and   the  most  delicate — a  kind  almost 
imknown  to  our  aire  and  conventional  hfe.     To  illus- 
trate  tliis,  we  may  quote  one  tragical  episode,  unfor- 
tunately more  common   among   Scotch   families,    and, 
indeed,  among  famihes  of  all  nations,  than  it  is  comfort- 
able to  know  of: — A  young  man,  a  probationer  of  the 
Clnirch  of  Scotland,  who  had  been  unsuccessful  in  getting 
a  chmx'h,  or,  apparently,  in  getting  any  employment, 
had  turned  such  thoughts  as  he  had,  in  the  way  of 
literature,  and  had  written  and  pubhshed,  apparently 
by  subscription,  a  Treatise  on  ike  Sabbath.      Having 
exhausted  Edmburgh,  he  came  to  London,  with  the  vain 
hopes  that  bring  all  adventurers  there.     He  seems  to 
liave  had  no  particular  talent  or  quahty  commending 
him  to  the  hearts  of  men.     Into  London  he  dropped 
obscurely,  nobody  there   finding  anything  to   respect 
in  his  half-clerical  pretensions  or  unremarkable  book. 
He  went  to  see  L'ving  occasionally,  and  was  observed 
to  fall  into  that  dismal  shabbiness  which  marks   the 
failure  of  heart  and  hope  in  men  born  to  better  things. 
Irving  had  bought  his  Ijook  largely,  and  stimulated 
others  to  do  the  same,  and  now  watched  with  anxiety 
the  failure  and   disappointment  which   he  could   not 
avert.      One   evening   a   man   ap[)eared  at  his  house 


A   LOST   LIFE.  213 

with  a  note,  which  he  insisted  upon  dehvering  into 
Irving's  own  hand.  The  note  was  from  the  unfor- 
timate  individual  whom  we  have  just  described.  It  was 
written  in  utter  despair  and  shame.  "  The  messenger 
was  the  landlord  of  a '  low  public  house,' "  says  a  lady, 
a  relative  of  Irving's,  then  resident  in  his  house,  and  ac- 
quainted with  the  whole  melancholy  story,"  where  M 

had  been  for  three  days  and  nights,  and  had  run  up  a  bill 
which  he  had  no  means  of  paying.  It  appeared  that 
he  had  boasted  of  his  intimacy  with  ]\ir.  Irving,  and 
the  man  had  offered  to  carry  a  note  from  him  to  '  his 

great  friend,'    who,  M declared,  would   at   once 

release  him  from  such  a  trifling  embarrassment. 
Edward  was  puzzled  what  to  do,  but  at  last  resolved 
to  go  to  the  house,  pay  the  bill,  and  brmg  the  unfor- 
tunate man  home.    He  went,  accordingly,  desiring  me  to 

get  a  room  ready.     M was  very  glad  to  get  his 

bill  paid,  but  woidd  scarcely  leave  the  house,  till 
Edward  told  him  he  would  free  liim  only  on  condition 
that  he  came  with  him  at  once.  None  of  us  saw  him 
for  a  day  or  two,  as  he  was,  or  pretended  to  be,  so 
overcome  with  shame  that  he  could  not  look  us  in  the 
face.  But  he  soon  got  over  this,  and  jomed  the  family 
party.  Decent  clothes  were  obtained  for  him,  and  we 
hoped  he  was  really  striving  tO  give  up  his  bad  habits." 
•  This  continued,  for  sonlfe  time,  when,  "  one  day,  he  went 
out  after  dimier  and  did  not  return.  Two  or  three 
days  passed,  and  no  account,  could  we  obtain  of  him. 
At  last,  another  note  was  brought,  written  in  the  same 
self-condemnatory  strain,  begging  for  forgiveness  and 
assistance."  There  is  httle  need  for  following  out  the 
sickening  story.     Everywhere  there  are  families  who 


214  IKtSriTAUTV. 

liavo  received  tlie  s:aine  letters,  made  the  same  searches, 
heard  the  same  humihatiiig  confessions  and  entreaties, 
— but  only  for  those  Avho  belong  to  them,  whom 
nature  makes  dear  amid  all  wrolchedness,  to  whom  the 
hearth"!  of  UKUliere  and  sisters  cling,  and  in  whose  be- 
half love  still  hopes  against  hope,  are  such  cares  usually 
imdertakeii.  To  do  it  all  ibr  a  stranger — to  bring  the 
lialf-conscious  wretch  into  a  virtuous  home,  to  wile 
liim  with  domestic  society  and  comfort,  to  seek  him 
out  again  and  again,  pay  debts  for  him,  find  cmi)loy- 
ments  for  liim,  receive  his  melancholy  penitences,  and 
encom'age  what  supei'ficial  attempts  after  good  there 
may  be  in  him — is  a  charity  beyond  the  powers  of  most 
men.  In  niral  places,  here  and  there,  such  good 
Samaritans  may  be  found ;  but  what  man  in  London 
ventures  to  take  upon  himself  such  a  responsibility  ? 
This  doleful  story  throws  a  light  upon  the  ])rivate 
economics  of  the  Pentonville  house  which  I  should  be 
sorry  to  lose. 

Those  who  were  in  more  innocent  need  were  received 
■with  still  more  cordial  welcomes.  Friends  pondering 
where  to  cast  their  lot — people  meditating  a  change  of 
residence,  and  desirous  of  seeing  how  the  land  lay — 
found  a  little  mount  of  vision  in  the  house  of  the  great 
preacher  from  wliich  to  investigate  and  decide.  A 
stream  of  society  thus  flowed  1)y  liim,  fluctuating  as 
one  went  and  another  came.  If  any  man  among 
his  friends  was  sei2ed  wdth  tlie  thought  that  London 
might  be  a  sphere  more  desirable  than  Edinburgh  or 
than  Annan,  such  a  person  bethought  him,  naturally,  of 
Edward  Irving  and  his  hospitable  house.  The  great 
people  who  sought  the  great  preacher  never  interfered 


COMMENCEMENT   OP   THE   NEW    CHUKCH.  215 

with  the  smaller  people  who  sought  his  assistance  and 
his  friendship  ;  and  those  who  had  no  possible  claim 
upon  liis  hospitality  got  at  least  his  good  offices  and 
kind  words. 

In  the  middle  of  the  summer,  just  two  years,  as  he 
himself  tells  us,  from  the  time  of  liis  coming,  the  foun- 
dation stone  of  his  new  church  was  laid.  It  was 
planned  of  a  size  conformable  to  the  reputation  of  the 
preacher.  This  event  was  celebrated  by  Irving  in 
three  sermons — one  preached  before,  another  after, 
and  the  third  on  occasion  of  the  ceremony — in  which 
last  he  takes  pains  to  describe  the  discipline  and 
practice  of  that  Church  of  Scotland  which  stood  always 
highest  in  his  affections  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  speaks 
of  the  building  about  to  be  erected  in  terms  more  like 
those  that  might  be  used  by  a  Jew  in  reference  to  liis 
temple,  or  by  a  Cathohc  of  his  holy  shrine,  than  by 
Presbyterian  lips,  which  acknowledge  no  consecration 
of  place.  Doubtless  the  sublimation  which  everything 
encountered  m  his  mind,  the  faculty  he  had  of  raising 
all  emotions  into  the  highest  regions,  and  of  covering 
even  the  common  with  an  ideal  aspect  unknown  to 
itself,  may  have  raised  the  expressions  of  a  simple  sen- 
timent of  reverence  into  this  consecrating  halo  which 
his  words  threw  around  the  unbuilt  church  ;  but  it 
must  not  be  forgotten  that  from  his  very  outset  a  cer- 
tain priestly  instinct  was  in  the  man  who  bade  "  Peace 
be  to  this  house  "  in  every  dwelling  he  entered,  and 
who  gave  his  benediction,  as  well  as  his  prayers,  like 
a  primitive  Pope  or  Bishop,  as,  indeed,  he  felt  himself 
to  be. 

For  rest  and  recreation  the  little  family,  leaving  Lon- 


'ilG  KVAXIJKLICAL   JOURNEY. 

don  in  September,  ])aid  a  slunl  vi.sit  lo  tlie  paternal 
houses  in  Scotland,  and  tlu-n  returned  to  Dover,  wliere 
tliey  remained  for  some  weeks,  and  wliere  Irving,  never 
idle,  entered  lull}*,  as  he  himsell'  relates,  into  the  mis- 
sionar}'  oration  of  which  we  liave  ah-eady  spoken.  At 
a  later  period,  after  having  agam  entered  into  harness, 
in  the  November  of  the  same  year,  he  visited  Birming- 
ham, Manchester,  and  Liverpool  by  invitation,  in  order 
to  stir  up  his  countiymen  there  to  the  support  and 
revival  of  the  Church  of  their  fathers,  for  want  of 
which  many  of  them  had  sunk  into  indiiTerence,  or 
worse.  From  Birmingham,  where  lie  opened  a  new 
chiu'ch  and  preached  the  discourse  on  the  "  Curse  as  to 
Bodily  Labour,"  which  was  published  some  time  after- 
wards, he  Amtes  to  his  wife:  — 

"  Birmingham,  20th  or  ratlicr  3Cth  November,  1821. 

"My  DEAiiEST  Wife,— I  am  arrived  safe,  notwithstanding 
your  evil  auguries,  or  rather  suggestions,  of  doubt  and  un- 
behef,  which  the  faith  of  God's  providence  can  alone  dissi- 
pate, and  the  assurance  that  I  am  about  our  father's  business; 

and  I  liave  found  a  home  here  at  the  house  of  Dr.  J ,  my 

father's  adjoining  neighbour,  and  my  very  warm  friend,  into 
whose  heart  I  pray  the  Lord  I  may  sow  some  .spiritual  seed  in 
return  for  his  temporal  benefits,  for,  as  yet,  he  is  in  the  dark- 
ness of  Unitarianisrn.  Nevertheles.s,  they  have  family  prayers, 
at  which  I  this  night  presided,  and  while  I  sought  1  could 
not  find  to  avoid  in  my  prayers  the  matters  in  dispute  be- 
tween ufi,  but  was  constrained,  as  it  were,  by  superior  power 
to  make  cordial  testimony  to  our  risen  and  reigning  Lord, 
our  Saviour  and  our  God. 

"  I  have  seen  the  Committee,  and  find  all  things  looking 

prosperously Mr.  I. ],as  had  so  much  distress  in 

his  family  that  he  was  content  I  should  come  here,  and  not  to 
him  ;  but  I  go  to-morrow  afternoon  to  weep  with  him  and  his 
motherless  children.     Mrs.  L loved  you  to  the  end  with 


BIKMINGHMI.  217 

a  strange  and  strong  love,  and  it  was  her  greatest  earthly 
desire  to  have  seen  you.  There  is  something  so  uncommon 
in  this  that  it  seems  to  me  to  point  the  way  that  you  should 
love  her  children,  and  do  for  their  sakes  what  she  longed  to 
do  for  your  mother's  child.     Therefore,  my  dear  Isabella,  do 

write  Miss  L ,  and  strengthen  her,  and  invite  her  when 

she  can  be  spared  to  come  and  spend  some  time  with  us.  .  .  . 
Be  careful  of  yourself  and  the  little  boy — the  dear,  dear 
little  boy,  my  greatest  earthly  hope  and  joy  —  for  you  are 
not  another,  but  myself — my  better  and  dearer  half.  I  pray 
the  Lord  to  bless  you,  and  be  instead  of  a  friend  and  husband 
and  father  to  you  in  my  absence.  Let  not  your  backward- 
ness hinder  you  from  family  prayers  night  and  morning. 

"I  hope  I  shall  find  time  to  write  to  Margaret,  our  beloved 
sister,  to  whom  I  have  much  that  is  affectionate  to  communi- 
cate, and  something  that  may  be  instructive Forget 

me  not  to  Mary*,  over  whom  I  take  more  than  a  master's 
authority,  feeling  for  her  all  the  guardianship   of  a  parent, 

which  she  may  be  pleased  to  permit   me  in My 

brotherly  and  pastoral  love  to  the  elders  of  the  flock 

Say  to  Thomas,  the  moralist,  that  I  love  him  at  a  distance  as 
much  as  at  hand — I  think  sometimes  full  better,  as  they  say 
in  Annandale.  To  my  Isabella  I  say  all  in  one  word,  that  I 
desire  and  seek  to  love  her  as  Christ  loved  the  Church. 

"  Your  most  affectionate  husband, 

"  Edward  Irving." 

Another  brief  letter  follows  from  Liverpool,  where  he 
also  preached  for  the  encouragement  and  strengthening 
of  the  Scotch  Church  already  in  existence  there.  It  is 
naturally  to  his  wife  that  his  letters  are  now  chiefly 
addressed,  and  the  result  is,  as  will  be  shortly  shown, 
as  wonderful  a  revelation  of  heart  and  thoughts  as  one 
human  creature  ever  made  to  another.  By  this  time  the 
natural  course  of  events  seems  to  have  withdrawn  him 
in  a  great  degree  from  regular  correspondence  with  his 

*  One  of  his  servants. 


218  HO  Ml-:   SOCIETY. 

fi'iciuls  in  Scotland  —  a  I'lianm'  wliicli  liis  marriago,  niul 
all  tlu'  ri'\i)luti<'>nj5  \vliicli  IkhI  Inl^cii  place  in  liis  lifo,  as 
woll  as  the  full  (KHnipatii)n  of  his  time,  and  the  perpetually 
increasing  calls  made  upon  it,  rendered  inevitable. 
His  alVections  weiv  imchanged,  Init  it  was  no  longer 
possible  to  keej)  up  the  expression  of  them.  The  new 
friends  who  multiplied  around  him  were  of  a  kind  to 
make  a  dee]i  im]ires<ion  upon  a  mind  which  Avas  iiillu- 
cnced  more  or  less  by  all  whom  it  held  in  high  regard. 
We  have  already  quoted  his  warm  expressions  of  esteem 
and  affection  for  Mr.  Basil  Montagu  and  liis  wife.  To 
Coleridge  he  liad  also  owned  liis  still  higher  obliga- 
tions. Another  friend,  whom  his  friends  consider  to 
have  had  no  small  influence  on  Irving,  was  the  Rev.  W. 
Vaughan,  of  Leicestei',  an  English  clergjnnan,  who  is 
supposed,  I  cannot  say  with  wliat  truth,  to  have  been 
mainly  instrumental  in  leaehng  him  to  some  views 
which  lie  afterwards  expressed.  His  distinguished 
countiyman,  Carlyle,  referred  to  witli  i)hiyful  affection 
in  the  letter  we  have  just  quoted,  not  then  resident  in 
London,  was  liis  occasi(jnal  guest  and  close  friend. 
Good  David  Wilkie,  and  his  biographer,  Allan  Cunning- 
ham, were  of  the  less  elevated  liome  society,  which 
again  connected  itself  with  the  lowest  homely  levels 
by  visitors  and  petitioners  from  Glasgow  and  Annan- 
dale.  In  this  wide  cii'cle  the  preacher  moved  with  all 
the  joyousness  of  his  nature,  never,  however,  leaving 
it  possible  for  any  man  to  forget  that  his  special 
character  was  that  of  a  servant  of  God.  The  light  talk 
then  indulged  in  by  magazines,  breaks  involuntarily  into 
pathos  and  serioasness,  in  the  allusions  made  in  Eraser's 
Mauazine,jesLrs  after,  to  this  early  summer  of  his  career. 


"  m   GOD    HE    LIVED   AND   MOVED.  219 

The  laughing  philosophers,  over  their  wine,  grow  sud- 
denly grave  as  they  speak  of  the  one  among  tliem  who 
was  not  as  other  men  : — "  In  God  he  lived,  and  moved, 
and  had  Ids  being,"  says  this  witness,  impressed  from 
among  the  hghter  regions  of  hfe  and  literature  to  bear 
testimony ;  "  no  act  was  done  but  m  prayer ;  every 
blessing  was  received  with  thanksgiving  to  God  ;  every 
friend  was  dismissed  with  a  parting  benediction."  The 
man  who  could  thus  make  his  character  apparent  to  the 
wits  of  his  day  must  have  hved  a  Hfe  unequivocal  and 
not  to  be  mistaken. 

It  was  while  livmg  in  the  ftiU  exercise  of  all  those 
charities,  happy  in  the  new  household  and  the  firstborn 
child,  that  he  worked  at  the  missionary  oration,  the 
history  of  which  I  have  akeady  told.  Apart  from  the 
ordinary  comments  upon  and  wondermgs  over  the 
stream  of  fashion  which  still  flowed  towards  Hatton 
Garden,  this  oration  was,  for  that  year,  the  only 
visible  disturbing  element  in  his  hfe. 


220 


CTIArTEll  X. 
1825. 

Ix  tlic  beginning  of  tlic  year  1825, — a  year  for  ever  to 
be  remembered  in  Edward  Irving's  life,  and  wliicli, 
indeed,  so  touching,  and  solemn,  and  pathetic  are  all 
the  records  of  its  later  part,  I  could  almost  wish  con- 
tained no  common  events,  but  only  the  apotheosis  of 
love  and  grief  accomplished  in  it,  —  he  was,  notwith- 
standing the  sad  failm^e  and  discomfiture  of  the  London 
Missionary  Society,  in  its  employment  of  his  services, 
requested  to  pre^ach  for  the  Continental  Society  on  a 
similar  occasion.  This  Society  was  hold  up  and  main- 
tained from  its  commencement  by  the  nervous  strength 
of  Ilenry  Drummond,  a  man  ah^eady  known  to  the 
preacher,  over  whose  later  course  he  was  to  exercise  so 
great  an  influence.  Irving,  remembering  the  past,  was 
slow  to  undertake  this  new  commission,  becoming 
aware,  I  do  not  doul)t,  that  his  thoughts  often  ran  in 
channels  so  distinct  from  those  of  other  nieii,  that  it 
was  dangerous  to  be  chosen  as  the  mouthpiece  of  a 
''targe  and  varied  body.  He  consented  at  last,  however ; 
and,  true  to  his  unfailing  conscientious  desire  to  bring 
out  of  the  depths  of  Scripture  all  the  light  which  he 
could  perceive  it  to  throw  upon  the  subject  in  hand,  liis 
discourse  naturally  came  to  be  uj)on  prophecy.     I  say 


IRVING 'S  IXTEODUCTION  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  PKOniECY.  221 

naturally,  because,  in  tlie  evangelization  of  the  Conti- 
nent, all  the  mystic  impersonations  of  the  Apocalypse, 
. — the  scarlet  woman  on  her  seven  liills,  the  ten-horned 
beast,  all  the  prophetic  personages  of  that  dread  unde- 
veloped drama, — are  necessarily  involved.  The  manner 
in  which  Irving's  attention  had  been,  some  short  time 
before,  specially  directed  to  the  study  of  prophecy,  is 
however  too  interesting  and  characteristic  to  be  passed 
without  more  particular  notice.  Several  years  before, 
Mr.  Hatley  Frere,  one  of  the  most  sedulous  of  those 
prophetical  students  who  were  beginning  to  make 
themselves  known  here  and  there  over  the  country, 
had  propounded  a  new  scheme  of  interpretation,  for 
which,  up  to  this  time,  he  had  been  unable  to  secure 
the  ear  of  the  rehgious  pubhc.  Not  less  confident  in 
the  truth  of  his  scheme  that  nobody  shared  his  behef 
in  it,  Mr.  Frere  cherished  the  conviction  that  if  he 
could  but  meet  some  man  of  candid  and  open  mind,  of 
popularity  sufficient  to  gain  a  hearing,  to  whom  he 
could  privately  explain  and  open  up  his  system,  its 
success  was  certain.  When  Irving,  all  ingenuous  and 
ready  to  be  taught,  was  suddenly  brought  in  contact 
with  him,  the  student  of  prophecy  identified  him  by  an 
instant  intuition. — "  Here  is  the  man !  "  he  exclaimed  to 
himself ;  and  with  all  the  eagerness  of  a  discoverer,  who 
seeks  a  voice  by  which  to  utter  what  he  has  found  out, 
he  addressed  himself  to  the  task  of  convmcing  the  candid 
and  generous  soul  which  could  condemn  nothing  un- 
heard. He  disclosed  to  his  patient  hearer  all  those 
details  to  which  the  pubhc  ear  declined  to  hsten  ;  and  the 
result  was  that  Mr.  Frere  gained  a  disciple  and  exposi- 
tor ;  and  that  an  influence  fatal  to  his  future  leisure,  and 


'2'2'2  Till-:    FASCIXATION    OF   THAT   STUDY. 

of  the  most  monientous  importance  to  his  future  destiny 
—  wliieh,  indeed,  it  is  impossible  now  to  disjoin  from  tlie 
man,  <>r  to  consider  his  hfe  or  eliaracter  a])art  from  — 
took  possession  of  Irving's  thoutrlits.  Tliis  new  subject 
naturally  connected  itself  with  that  conviction  of  an 
approaching  crisis  in  the  fate  of  the  world,  not  mild 
convei'sion,  but  tragic  and  solenm  winding  up  and  settle- 
ment, which  he  is  said  to  have  derived  from  Cole- 
ridge. Henceforward  the  gorgeous  and  cloudy  \nstas 
of  the  Apocalyi^se  became  a  legible  chart  of  the  future 
to  his  fen'ent  eyes. 

The  fascination  of  that  study,  always  so  engrossing  and 
attractive,  seized  upon  him  fully  ;  and  when  it  came  to 
be  his  bushiess  to  consider  the  truths  best  adapted  for 
the  instruction  and  encouragement  of  a  body  of  Chris- 
tian men  labouring!;  on  behalf  of  that  old  iioman  world 
■which  has  long  been  the  heart  and  centre  of  the  earth, 
his  mind  passed  at  once  into  those  solemn  and  myste- 
rious adumbrations  of  Providence  in  which  he  and 
many  other  Christian  men  have  believed  tliemselves 
able  to  trace  the  ver}'-  spot,  between  what  was  fulfdlcd 
and  what  was  unfulfdled,  in  which  they  themselves 
st^jod.  Could  such  a  standing  ground  be  certainly  ob- 
tained, who  can  doubt  that  here  is  indeed  the  guidance 
of  all  others  for  any  effort  of  evangelizati(jn  ?  Irving 
had  no  doubt  upon  the  subject.  To  him  the  record 
was  distinct,  the  past  apparent,  the  future  to  be  reve- 
rently Init  clearly  understood.  Superficial  pious  ad- 
dresses were  impossiV)le  to  a  man  who  went  into  every- 
thing with  his  whole  heart  and  soul.  His  Bible  was  not 
to  him  the  foundation  from  which  theology  was  to  be 
proved,  but  a  Divine  word,  instinct  with  meaning  never 


HIS  CONSCIENTIOUSNESS  IN  TEEATING  HIS  SUBJECTS.    223 

to  be  exhausted,  and  from  which  hght  and  guidance — 
not  vague,  but  particular — could  be  brought  for  every 
need.     And  the  weight  of  his  "  caUing  "  to  instruct  was 
never  absent  from  his  mind.     To  the  missionaries,  ac- 
cordingly, he  brought  forth  the  picture  of  an  apostle ; 
and  opened  before  the  eyes  of  those  who  aimed  at  a 
re-evangehzation  of  old    Christendom   a  cloudy  but 
splendid  panorama  of  the  fate  which  was  about  to  over- 
take the  sphere  of  their  operations,  and  all  the  myste- 
rious agencies,  half  discerned  in  actual  presence,  and 
clearly   indicated    in    Scripture,  which    were    before 
them  in  that  difficult  and  momentous  field.     In  a  man 
distinguished  as  an  orator  this  tendency  to  avoid  the 
superficial  and  go  to  the  very  heart,  as  he  understood 
it,  of  his  subject,  was  neither  expected  nor  recognised 
by  the  ordinary  crowd.    In  this  same  spring  of  1825,  in 
which  he  preached  his  prophetical  discourse  for  the 
instruction  of  a  society  engaged  upon  the  Continent — on 
the  very  ground  where  prophecy,  according  to  his  in- 
terpretation, was  to  be  fulfilled — he  also  preached  for 
the  Highland  School  Society ;  a  subject  which  might 
have  been  supposed  very  congenial  to  his  heart,  and  in 
which  I  have  no  doubt  his  audience  looked  for  such 
glowing  pictures  of  Highland  glens  and  mountains,  of 
primitive  faith,  and  picturesque  godliness,  the  romance 
of  religion,  as  pious  orators,  glad  of  so  fluent  a  topic  of 
declamation,  have  made  customary  on  such  occasions. 
The  orator  took  no  such  easy  and  beaten  track.     He 
entered  into  the  subject  of  education  with  all  the  con- 
scientiousness of  his  nature,  setting  it  forth  fully  in  a 
manner  which,  whatever  may  be  the  inevitable  expe- 
diencies to  which  modern  civilisation  is  driven,  must 


•2J4  lIAniTS   OF   TIlOUCillT. 

commaiul  tlie  respect  and  juliniration  of  everybody  wlio 
lias  ever  tliouLdit  ii})oii  (lie  subjei't.  T  am  anxious  to 
point  out  tliis  jieculiai'ily,  because  I  do  not  tliink  it  is 
one  for  wliicli  Irving,  all  oratorical  and  declamatory  tis 
he  is  supposed  to  have  been,  gets  the  honour  he  deserves. 
It  is  not  my  j^art  to  decide  ujion  the  right  or  wrong  of  his 
views,  especially  on  such  a  subject  as  that  of  prophecy : 
I  am  only  anxious  to  indicate  fully  a  habit  of  liis  mind, 
which  the  correspondence  shortly  to  be  given  will  illus- 
trate more  fidly  tJian  anything  else  can  do.  When  any 
subject  was  presented  to  him  his  mind  immediately 
carried  it  away  out  of  the  everyday  atmosphere  into  a 
world  of  thought  and  ideal  truth,  where  practicabilities, 
much  more  expediencies,  did  not  enter ; — interrogated  it 
closely  to  get  at  its  heart ;  —  expounded  it  so  from  tlie 
depths,  from  the  heights,  from  the  unseen  soul  of  the 
matter,  that  people,  accustomed  to  look  at  it  only 
from  the  outside,  stood  by  aghast,  and  did  not  know  the 
familiar  doctrine  which  they  themselves  had  put  into 
his  hands.  This  will  be  found  the  case  in  almost  every- 
thing he  touches.  No  sooner  does  he  apply  himself  to 
the  special  consideration  of  any  point  tlian  all  its  hidden, 
spiritual  meanings  come  gleaming  upon  his  mind.  lie 
goes  about  his  daily  lousiness  always  attended  by  tliis 
radiant  track  of  meditation,  pondering  in  his  heart 
thnjugh  the  streets  and  squares,  among  the  fields,  by 
the  way.  By  close,  secret  dwelling  upon  it,  tlie  ideal 
soul  contained  in  any  intellectual  tmth  gradually  warms 
and  glows  uito  regions  ineffable  Ijcfore  his  eyes.  Men 
enough  there  are  in  all  times — in  our  time,  perhaps, 
Xajo  many  —  who  can  expound  the  practicable.  Irving's 
vocation  was  of  a  totally  different  nature:  it  was  his 


SERMON   TO   THE    CONTINENTAL   SOCIETY.  225 

to  restore  to  the  enterprises  and  doctrines  of  universal 
Cliristianity — witliout  consideration  of  what  was  prac- 
ticable or  how  it  could  be  reahsed  —  the  Divine  soul, 
which  use  and  familiarity  perpetually  obscure. 

His  discourse  to  the  Continental  Society,  though  it 
did  not  raise  such  a  commotion  as  the  missionary  ora- 
tion, was  still  far  from  palatable  to  some  of  his  hearers. 
"  Several  of  the  leading  members  of  the  committee,"  we 
are  told,  "  had  neither  Christian  patience  nor  decorum 
enough  to  hear  the  preacher  out,  but  abruptly  left  the 
place ;  "  and,  from  the  comments  that  followed,  Irving 
was  soon  brought  to  miderstand  that  he  had  been  mis- 
apprehended, and  that  pohtical  meanings,  of  which  he 
was  innocent,  had  been  suspected  in  his  sermon. 
Cathohc  Emancipation  was  then  one  of  the  questions 
of  the  day ;  and  the  advocates  of  both  sides  suspected 
him,  oddly  enough,  of  having  supported  their  several 
views  of  the  matter.  At  the  same  time,  his  heart  had 
gone  into  the  task  ;  he  had  found  in  prophetical  inter- 
pretation a  study  which  charmed  him  deeply,  and  had 
found  himself  drawn,  as  was  natural,  into  a  closer,  ex- 
clusive fellowship  with  those  wdio  pursued  the  same 
study  and  adopted  the  same  views.  Urged  by  his 
brother-students  of  prophecy,  and  inchned  of  himself  to 
give  forth  those  investigations  in  which  he  had  himself 
been  comforted,  to  the  world,  he  devoted  his  leisure 
during  the  year  to  amplifying  and  filling  out  the  germ 
wliich  had  been  in  his  discourse.  "Thus  it  came  to  pass," 
he  says  in  the  preface,  "  that  to  clear  myself  from  being 
a  pohtical  partizan  in  a  ministerial  garb,  and  to  gratify 
the  de.-?ires  of  these  servants  of  Christ,  I  set  forth  this 
pubhcation,  on  which  I  pray  the  blessing  of  God  to  rest." 

VOL.  I.  Q 


22fi  nvnYLOX    AND    IXFIDF.LI'n'    FOREDOOMKD. 

TTo  cntitk'tl  the  hook,  Jlabijlon  and  Tiifidclitii  Fore- 
doomed^ and  tU'dioiUed  it,  witli  liis  iisiinl  inagnimiinoii.s 
ackuowlodmnent  of   imk'l)U'diR\s.s,    to    the    iroiitlemaii 
who  liad  \\i'A  directed  liis  tliouglits  to  tlie  subject. 
"  To  my  beloved  friend  and  brother  in  Christ,  Hatley  Frerc, 

"  When  I  first  met  you,  worthy  sir,  in  a  company  of  friends, 
and  minted,  I  know  not  by  what,  asked  you  to  walk  forth  into 
the  fields  that  we  might  commune  together,  while  the  rest 
enjoyed  their  social  converse,  you  seemed  to  me  as  one  who 
dreamed,  while  you  opened  in  my  ear  your  views  of  the  pre- 
sent time,  as  foretold  in  the  Book  of  Daniel  and  the  Apoca- 
lypse.    But  being  ashamed  of  my  own  ignorance,  and  having 
been  blessed  from  my  youth  with  the  desire  of  instruction,  I 
dared  not  t<D  scoflf  at  what  I  heard,  but  resolved  to  consider 
the  matter.     jNIore  than  a  year  passed  before  it  pleased  Pro- 
vidence to  bring  us  together  again,  at  the  house  of  the  same 
dear  friend  and  brother  in  the  Lord,  when  you  answered  so 
sweetly  and  temperately  the  objections  made  to  your  views, 
that  I  was  more  and  more  struck  with  the  outward  tokens  of 
a  believer  in  truth  ;  and   I   was  again  ashamed  at  my  own 
ignorance,  and  again  resolved  to  consider  the  matter ;  after 
which  I  had  no  rest  in  my  spirit  until  I  waited  upon  you  and 
offered  myself  as  your  pupil,  to  be  instructed  in  prophecy 
according  to  your  ideas  thereof;  and  for  the  ready  goodwill 
with  which  you  undertook,  and  the  patience  with  which  you 
performed  this  kind  office,  I  am  for  ever  beholden  to  you, 
most  dear  and  worthy  friend.  .  .  ,  For  I  am  not  willing  that 
any  one  should  account  of  me  as  if  I  were  worthy  to  have  had 
revealed  to  me  the  impoi-fant  truths  contained  in  this  dis- 
course, which  may  all  be  found  written  in  yoiir   *  Treatise  on 
the  Prophecies  of  Daniel ;'  only  the  Lord  accounted  me  wor- 
thy to  receive  the  faith  of  these  things  which  He  first  made 
known  to  you,  His  more  worthy  servant.     And  if  He  make 
me  the  instrument  of  conveying  that  faith  to  any  of  His 
Church,  that  they  may  make  themselves  ready  for  His  coming, 
or  to  any  of  the  world,  that  they  may  take  refuge  in  the  ark 
of  His  salvation  from  the  deluge  of  wrath  which  abideth  the 


SERMOXS   ON   PUBLIC   OCCASIONS.  227 

impenitent,  to  His  name  shall  all  the  praise  and  glory  be 
ascribed  by  me.  His  unworthy  servant,  who,  through  mercy, 
dareth  to  subscribe  himself,  your  brother  in  the  bond  of  the 
Spirit,  and  the  desire  of  the  Lord's  coming, 

"Edward  Irving." 

This  opeiiing  season  of  '25  seems  to  have  brought  a 
large  share  of  public  occupation  to  the  preacher,  whose 
unbounded  popularity  attracted  a  crowded  audience 
around  him  at  his  every  appearance.     Another  careful 
and  weighty  discourse  upon  the  condition  of  Ireland, — 
not,  perhaps,  specially  adapted  to  a  moment  when  much 
of  the  generous  feeUng  of  the  country  had  been  roused,  in 
the  discussions  upon  Cathohc  Emancipation,  to  take  the 
part  of  that  portion  of  our  countrymen  who  lay  under 
disabihties  so  grievous ;   but  fidl  of  truth,  which  expe- 
rience has  proved, —  was  preached  at  the  instance  of  the 
Hibernian  Society.     He  is  also  recorded  to  have  made 
a  striking  and  very  characteristic  appearance  at  a  meet- 
ing of  the  same  Society,  not  long  before.    The  power  of 
agitation  in  that  period,  so  much  more  strongly  pohtical 
than  this,  was  at  its  height ;  and  that  wonderfid  and 
crafty  leader,  who  won  the  Cathohc  battle  almost  single- 
handed,  and  ruled  his  island  'for  a  lifetime  with  auto- 
cratic sway,  already  threw  his  shadow  even  upon  such 
an   institution   as    the    Irish    Bible    Society.      Stanch 
Orangemen    on  theu*  native  soil  would   undoubtedly 
have  defied  such  an  influence  with  double  pertinacity 
and  zeal ;  but  metropohtan  meekness  counselled  other- 
wise.     An  English  clergyman  of  high  standing  and 
well-known  character  called  for  Irving  to  drive  him  to 
the  meeting  which  was  to  be  held  under  these  cir- 
cumstances, and  made  a  cautious  attempt  to  tutor  the 

Q  2 


238  innERXIAX  ninLE  socikty. 

iinconij>roini>iiitz;  (^rator.  ''Take  us  to  one  ol"  3'our 
IliLrlilaiul  glens,"  said  the  well-mcajiing  puacemakor, 
"  and  give  us  a  piclure  of  tlie  sinii)licity  and  lioliness  of 
life  there  produced  by  llu'  study  of  tlie  Word."  Irving, 
wlio  liad  not  adopted  tliat  natural  and  easy,  superlieial 
■way  of  ])leading  the  cause  of  his  own  countrymen, 
asked  with  some  astonisliment  wliy  his  subject  was 
to  be  thus  prescribed  to  him.  The  answer  was  one 
of  all  others  least  likely  to  tame  the  habitual  fervour 
and  opeimess  of  tlie  Scotch  preacher.  Some  of 
O'Connell's  followers  were  to  be  present  at  the  meet- 
ing, as  a  check  upon  over-bold  criticism ;  and  it  had 
been  decided  that  nothing  was  to  be  said  whicli 
could  provoke  the  hiterference  of  these  self-appointed 
moderators.  It  is  unnecessaiy  to  say  that  Irving  alto- 
gether repudiated  this  arrangement,  and  came  under 
no  engagement  to  make  the  innocent  pastoral  address, 
meaning  nothing,  which  was  suggested  to  him.  The 
meeting  was  very  noisy  and  much  disturbed,  as  had 
been  expected.  One  of  the  speakers,  a  Mr.  Pope,  who 
had  come  from  Ireland  warmly  indignant  at  the  petty 
priestly  artifices  by  wliich  the  circulation  of  the  Bible 
was  hindered,  was  so  often  interrupted,  that  at  length 
the  Chairman,  giving  way  to  the  violence  of  the  un- 
welcome visitors,  added  his  authority  to  the  outcries, 
and  requested  the  speaker  to  sit  down.  This  silenced 
witness  was  followed  by  otlier  speakers  more  com- 
placent, who  amused  the  audience  with  sentiment 
and  mild  description,  such  as  had  been  vainly  sohcited 
from  Irving.  ^V^^en  his  time  came,  as  one  of  his  audi- 
tors relates,  he  advanced,  in  all  the  strength  of  his 
imposing  height  and  demeanour,  to  tlie  front  of  the 


AN   AFTEENOON  A^IONG   THE   POOE.  229 

platform,  and  "lifting  up  a  heavy  stick,  which  he  carried, 
struck  it  on  the  floor  to  give  additional  emphasis  to  his 
words.  '  I  have  been  put  to  shame  this  day,'  said  the 
indignant  orator;  'I  have  had  to  sit  still  and  see  a 
servant  of  God  put  down  in  a  so-called  Christian 
assembly  for  speaking  the  simple  truth.  Ichabod! 
Ichabod!  the  glory  is  departed!'"  The  speech  that 
followed  this  bold  beginning  was  not  interrupted  ;  and, 
when  the  meeting  was  over,  the  orator  was  surrounded 
by  a  crowd  of  excited  and  applauding  hearers,  shower- 
ing thanks  and  congratulations  upon  him. 

From  this  scene  another  witness  leads  us  to  one  very 
different  and  more  congenial  to  the  most  human-hearted 
of  men.  An  account  of  "  an  afternoon  spent  in  his 
society  among  the  poor  of  London,"  which  appeared 
some  years  since  in  the  pages  of  the  Free  Church 
Magazine,  gives  a  quaint  picture  at  once  of  the  dis- 
abilities and  mistakes  of  ordinary  visitors  of  the  poor, 
and  of  Irving's  entire  capacity  for  that  noble  and 
difficult  office.  Some  ladies  in  the  city  had  estabhshed 
an  infant  school  in  the  district  of  BiUingserate,  and 
finding  themselves  quite  unsuccessful  in  persuading  the 
people  to  send  their  childi'en  to  it,  appHed  to  Irving  to 
help  them.  He,  at  the  height  of  his  splendid  reputa- 
tion, whom  critics  had  assailed  with  accusations  of 
indifference  to  the  poor,  immediately  consented  to  give 
his  aid  in  this  humble  mission.  He  went  with  them, 
accordingly,  through  the  district.  In  the  first  house 
he  left  the  explanation  of  their  errand  to  his  female 
cHents,  and  speedily  discovered  the  mistake  these  good 
people  made.  The  scene  is  full  of  comic  elements,  and  one 
can  scarcely  refrain  from  imagming  the  appearance  that 


230  lli\  I.NU'S   ''  WAY." 

sucli  a  urouji  must  have  presented  :  tlie  city  ladies,  im- 
portant in  tlieir  mission,  impressing  upon  the  hesitating, 
liall-airruuted  motlier,  into  wliose  room  they  luid  made 
theii'  way,  all  the  charitable  advantages  which  they  had 
onhiined  for  her  children, — and  the  great  figure  of  the 
])reacher  standhig  by,  letting  them  have  their  own  way, 
doubtless  not  witliout  amusement  in  liis  compassionate 
eyes.  When  they  came  to  the  second  house,  he  took  the 
office  of  spokesman  upon  himself.  "  When  the  door  was 
opened,  he  spoke  in  the  kindest  tone  to  the  woman 
wlio  opened  it,  and  asked  permission  to  go  in.  lie 
then  explained  the  intention  of  the  ladies,  asked  how 
many  cliildren  she  had,  and  whether  she  would  send 
them  ?  A  ready  consent  was  the  result ;  and  the 
mother's  heart  was  completely  won  when  the  visitor 
took  one  of  her  httle  ones  on  his  knee,  and  blessed  her." 
The  city  ladies  were  confounded.  They  had  honestly 
intended  to  benefit  the  poor,  very,  very  distantly  re- 
lated to  them  by  way  of  Adam  and  the  forgotten 
patriarchs — but  the  cheerful  brotherhood  of  the  man 
who  had  blessed  the  bread  of  the  starving  Glasgow 
weavers  was  as  strange  to  tliem  as  if  he  had  spoken 
Hebrew  instead  of  Enghsh.  "  Wliy,  Mr.  Irving,"  ex- 
claimed one  of  the  ladies  when  they  got  to  the  street, 
*'  you  spoke  to  that  woman  as  if  she  were  doing  you  a 
favour,  and  not  you  conferring  one  on  her!  IIow  could 
you  speak  so  ?  and  how  could  you  take  up  that  child 
on  your  knee  ?"  "  The  woman,"  he  rephed,  "  does  not 
as  yet  know  the  advantages  which  her  children  will 
derive  fi'ora  your  school;  by-and-by,  she  will  knoAV 
them,  and  own  her  obhgations  to  you ;  and  in  so  speak- 
ing and  in  blessing  her  child,  I  do  but  follow  the  ex- 


IJN^ITATION   TO    REMOVE    TO   EDIXBURGH.  231 

ample  of  our  Lord,  who  blessed  the  little  ones,  the 
lambs  of  His  flock."  Li  another  house  the  chikben 
had  beautiful  hair,  which  the  benevolent  visitors,  intent 
on  doing  good  after  their  own  fasliion,  insisted  on  having 
cut  short  as  a  preliminary  of  admission.  The  great 
preacher  lifted  the  pretty  curls  in  his  hand  and  pleaded 
for  them,  but  m  vain.  When  they  were  denied  admis- 
sion at  one  house,  he  left  his  benediction  to  the  unseen 
people  within,  and  passed  on.  On  the  whole,  his  com- 
panions did  not  know  what  to  make  of  him.  Ii'ving's 
fashion  of  visiting  "  the  poor "  was  imknown  in  Bil- 
Hngsgate. 

Such  a  junction  and  contrast  of  duties  throws  a 
singular  hght  upon  his  full  and  various  life. 

In  the  early  summer  a  deputation  from  Scotland,  in 
the  persons  of  two  gentlemen,  henceforward  to  be 
numbered  among  his  warmest  and  closest  friends,  Mr. 
James  Bridges,  and  Mr.  Matthew  Norman  Macdonald, 
two  Edinburgh  lawyers,  of  influence  and  weight  in  the 
Church,  came,  on  a  mission  of  inquiry,  to  ascertain, 
apparently,  whether  the  much-distinguished  preacher 
was  equally  zealous  in  the  performance  of  his  pastoral 
duties,  whether  he  was  worthy  of  the  honour  of  being 
caUed  to  a  church  in  Edinburgh,  and  whether  he  would 
be  disposed  to  accept  such  an  invitation.  Ir\ing's  de- 
termination, lauded  by  Dr.  Chalmers,  of  not  sufiermg 
his  hom-s  of  study  to  be  interrupted  by  visitors,  kept 
these  gentlemen  wandering  about  the  unsuggestive 
streets  of  Pentonville  till  after  two  o'clock,  when  he 
received  \T.sitors.  The  inquirers  returned  not  only 
satisfied  but  dehghted,  and  stimulated  the  church 
which  had  sent  them  out  as  laudable  spies,  to  discover 


•232  HIS    ANSWKK. 

not  tlio  iiMkodiicss  hut  llir  \vc;iltli  iiiul  viLTour  nl"  [ho 
land,  to  send  anotlicr  doi)utation,  expressly  asking  Mr. 
Irving  to  become  their  minister.  His  reply  to  this 
application  I  ha\e  been  favonred  ^vith  by  Dr.  Douglas 
Maclagan,  in  whose  possession  the  letter  now  is: — 

"  My  beloved  Buetiiren  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ, — I  re- 
joice to  have  received  by  your  hands  and  from  your  lips  the 
assurance  that  such  a  grave  and  spiritual  liody  of  Christians 
iLS  the  eldership  of  St.  Cuthbert's,  Edinburgh,  have  judged 
me  a  fit  person  to  be  presented  to  the  people  of  Hope  Place 
Chapel,  as  one  worthy  to  exercise  the  ministry  of  word  and 
sacrament  over  them,  if  they  should  see  it  good  and  profitaljle 
to  call  me — the  more  when  I  consider  the  character  and 
gifts  of  my  dear  frieud  and  l)rother  in  the  ministry  *,  who  has 

been  called  from  among  them  to  labour  elsewhere All 

that  has  been  said  on  both  sides  has  sunk  deep  into  my  mind, 
and  I  have  sought  gi-ace  to  enable  me  to  come  to  a  wise  and 
righteous  determination;  aud,  after  much  thought  and 
anxiety,  I  have  expressed  the  state  of  my  feelings  towards 
both  sides  in  a  letter  to  my  session  aud  people,  of  which 
there  is  enclosed  an  exact  copy. 

"  You  will  perceive,  from  that'  letter,  by  what  strong  and 
enduring  ties  I  am  drawn  towards  my  native  country  and 
my  beloved  Church,  and  by  what  present  stronger,  though 
not  80  enduring,  ties  I  am  held  here.  I  have  no  doubt  the 
time  is  coming  when  the  .Spirit  will  press  me  to  declare  in 
the  ear  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  that  truth  which  I  am 
})Ound  at  present  to  deliver  here,  until  I  shall  have  finished 
the  burden  of  it.  When  that  time  comes,  you  will  find  me  in 
the  midst  of  you ;  or,  if  any  emergency  should  occur  before 
that  time  to  hasten  my  resolution,  it  is,  I  think,  to  my  own 
country,  and  to  the  chief  city  of  it,  that  I  will  present  myself. 

"  You  have  been  faitliful  to  your  trust,  and  are  worthy  to 
be  the  messengers  of  such  a  spiritual  body.  The  Lord  conduct 
you  on  your  way  to  your  home,  and  bring  you  in  peace  to 

♦  The  Rev.  Dr.  Gordon. 


HIS   MANNER   OF   LIFE.  233 

your  office  in  His  Church  !  And  be  assured  of  the  communion 
and  fellowship  of 

"  Your  brother  in  the  Gospel  and  in  the  Eldership, 

"  Edwakd  Irving." 

A  word  or  two  as  to  tlie  most  modest  and  primitive  life 
led  by  the  subject  of  oiir  memoir  will  not  be  out  of  place 
here.  I  give  it  on  the  authority  of  one  of  his  nearest  rela- 
tives, a  lady,  who  frequently  hved  in  his  house  : — "  Mr. 
Irving's  rule  was  to  see  any  of  his  friends  who  wished  to 
visit  him  without  ceremony  at  breakfast.   Eight  o'clock 
was  the  hour.    Family  worship  first,  and  then  breakfast. 
At  ten  he  rose,  bade  every  one  good-bye,  and  rethed  to 
his  study.     He  gave  no  audience  again  till  after  three. 
Two  o'clock  was  the  dinner  hoiu: ;  and,  after  that,  should 
no  one  come  to  prevent  him,  he  generally  walked  out, 
Mrs.  Irving  accompanying  him;  and,  until  the  baby 
took  hooping-cough,  ]\ir.  Irving  almost  always  carried 
him  in  his  arms.     Some  people  laughed  at  this,  but 
that  he  did  not  care  for  in  the  very  least."     To  see  the 
great  preacher,  admhed  and  flattered  by  the  highest 
personages  in  the  kuigdom,  marching  along  the  Pen- 
tonville  streets  with  Ms  baby,  must  have  been  a  spectacle 
to  make  ordinary  men  open  their  eyes.     An  amusing 
personal  anecdote,  belonging  to  a  similar  period,  comes 
from  the  same  authority.     His  indifference  to  money 
has  been  visible  with  sufiicient  distinctness  throughout 
his  hfe ;  but,  after  his  marriage,  according  to  a  primitive 
habit   most   worthy  of  imitation,  he   committed   the 
charge  of  his  finances  entirely  to  the  prudence  of  his 
wife,  and  carried  sometimes  only  the  smallest  of  coins, 
sometimes  nothing  at  all,  in  his  own  private  purse. 
This  habit  sometimes  brought  him  into  situations  of 


234  THE  TADDINCiTON   COACH. 

annisin«j  enibniTassniciit.  (^ii  niu'  occasion  he  had  left 
liome  to  visit  a  ineinber  of  liis  congregation  somewhere 
on  tlie  hne  of  tlie  New  Hoad  ;  but,  iinding  liiniself  kte, 
took,  witliout  considering  tlie  state  of  his  pocket,  the 
Paddington  coac/t,  omnibuses  having  not  yet  come  into 
l\\.shion.  As  soon  as  the  vehicle  "vvas  on  its  way, 
the  unlucky  passenger  recollected  that  he  was  penni- 
less. His  dismay  at  the  thought  was  overwhelming,  but 
soon  brightened  with  a  sudden  inspiration.  Looking 
around  him,  he  artfully  fixed  upon  the  most  benevolent- 
looking  foce  he  saw,  and  poured  his  sorrows  into  his  fel- 
low-traveller's ear.  "I  told  him  that  I  was  a  clergpnan," 
was  the  account  he  gave  to  his  amused  home-audience; 
"thai,  since  I  had  obtained  a  wife  from  the  Lord,  I  had 
given  up  all  concern  with  the  tilings  of"  this  world, 
leaving  my  purse  in  my  Avife's  hands;  and  that  to-day 
I  had  set  out  to  visit  some  of  my  flock  at  a  distance, 
without  recollectmg  to  put  a  shilling  in  my  purse  for 
the  coach."  The  good  man  thus  addressed  was  pro- 
pitious, and  paid  the  fare.  But  the  honour  due  to  such 
a  good  Samaritan  is  lessened  when  we  learn  that  the 
preacher's  remarkaljle  appearance,  and  scarcely  less  ex- 
traordinarjM'equest,  betrayed  him;  and  the  stranger  had 
the  honour  and  satisfaction,  for  his  sixpence,  of  making 
the  acquaintance  of  Edward  Irving. 

Early  in  this  summer,  clouds  began  to  appear  in  the 
firmament  of  the  new  household.  The  baby,  so  joy- 
fully welcomed  and  dearly  prized,  was  seized  with 
hooping-cough.  And,  in  the  end  of  June,  Mrs.  Irving, 
then  herself  in  a  delicate  condition  of  health,  accom- 
panied by  her  sister,  took  httle  Edward  down  to  Scotland, 
to  the  peaceful  manse  of  Kirkcaldy,  for  change  of  air. 


HIS    LETTER   OP   WELCOME   TO    HIS   WIFE.  235 

The  following  letter  was  written  immediately  after  the 
departm'e  of  the  travellers : — 

"  London,  Friday  Afternoon  ;  July  1st,  1825. 

"  My  dear  Isabella  and  beloved  Wife, —  I  suppose,  by  the 
time  this  arrives  in  Kirkcaldy,  yon  will  be  arrived,  and  httle 
Edward,  and  our  dear  brother  and  sister,  and  faithful  Mary ; 
and,  because  I  cannot  be  there  to  welcome  you  in  person  to 
your  father's  house,  I  send  this  my  representative  to  take 
you  by  the  hand,  to  embrace  you  by  the  heart,  and  say  wel- 
come, thrice  welcome,  to  your  home  and  your  country,  which 
you  have  honoured  by  fulfilling  the  duties  of  a  wife  and 
mother  well  and  faithfully — the  noblest  duties  of  woman- 
hood. And  while  I  say  this  to  yourself,  I  take  you  to  your 
father  and  mother,  and  say  unto  them:  Eeceive,  honoured 
parents,  your  daughter — your  eldest-born  child  —  and  give 
her  double  honom-  as  one  who  hath  been  faithful  and  dutiful 
to  her  husband,  and  brings  with  her  a  child  to  bear  down 
your  piety,  and  faith,  and  blessedness  to  other  generations, 
if  it  please  the  Lord.  Thus  I  fulfil  the  duty  of  restoring 
with  honour  and  credit — well  due  and  well  won — one  whom 
I  received  from  their  house  as  its  best  gift  to  me. 

"  When  I  returned,  I  went  solitary  to  Mrs.  Montagu's,  who 
was  pleased  with  your  letter,  in  order  to  see  whether  I  was 

expected  at  Highgate.  ...  So  to  Highgate  B •  and  I 

hied,  and  we  found  the  sage  *,  as  usual,  full  of  matter.  He 
talked  with  me  privately  about  his  own  spiritual  concerns, 
and  I  trust  he  is  in  the  way  of  salvation,  although  I  see  that 
he  has  much  to  prevail  against,  as  we  have  all.  ...  I  have 
pastoral  work  for  all  next  week  but  Thursday,  and  shall  con- 
tinue so  until  I  remove.  To-day  I  have  been  busy  with  my 
first  discourse  upon  the  '  Will  of  the  Father,'  which  I  pray 
you  to  study  diligently  in  the  Gospel  by  ,Tohn  i.  13,  14  ;  v. 
20,  21;  vii.  37,  44,  65;  viii.  16,  19,  26,  28;  x.  27,  29  — 
and  all  those  discourses  study  if  you  would  know  the  prece- 
dency which  the  will  of  the  Father  hath  of  the  preaching  of 
the  Son,  and  how  much  constant  honour  you  must  give  to 
it,  in  order  to  be  a  disciple  of  Christ.     My  head  is  wearied, 

*  Coleridge,  then  living  at  Highgate  with  his  friends  the  Gillmans. 


236    HIS  FEELINGS  IX  RESrECT   I'O  HIS  CALL  TO  EDINBUIIOII. 

nnd  Nvitli  diffioulty  din^rtoth  niv  liiind  to  Avrilc  these  few 
words,  whith  I  am  im)ved  to  by  luy  atiectioii  to  yoii  as  my 
wife,  and  my  desire  after  yoii  as  a  saint.  Therefore,  I  con- 
chide  ha.'^tily,  with  my  h)ve  to  onr  dear  parents,  brothers,  and 
sisters,  and  all  our  kindred.     Tiic  Lord  jircserve  my  wife  and 

child ! 

"Your  faithful  husband, 

"  Edward  Irving." 
Tliis  letter  was  followed,  a  week  after,  by  another 
letter,  in  wliich  liis  doubts  and  inclinations,  in  respect 
to  the  call  from  Edinburgh — liis  decision  of  which 
question  has  been  already  recorded — are  fully  set  forth. 
Tlie  tone  of  this  letter  is  far  from  enthusiastic  as  regards 
London,  notwithstanding  his  intention  of  remaining  in  it. 

..."  I  have  Mr.  Paul  and  j\Ir.  Howden  waiting  upon  me 
as  a  deputation  from  tlic  Kirk  Session  of  the  West  Kirk, 
Edinlturgh,  that  I  Avould  consent  to  succeed  Dr.  Gordon,  and 
I  now  write  to  you  for  your  counsel  and  advice  in  this  matter. 
Take  it  into  your  serious  consideration,  and  seek  counsel  of  the 
Lord,  and  write  me  your  judgment.  For  myself,  observe  how 
it  is.  There  is  no  home  here,  either  to  our  family  or  my 
ministrations,  and  all  the  love  of  my  people  cannot  make  it 
a  home.  If  anything  would  have  rallied  the  Scotch  people 
to  the  Church,  ray  notoriety,  not  to  say  my  talents,  would 
have  done  it ;  and  you  know  how  vain  it  has  been.  The 
religious  Ijodies  are  too  bigoted  to  receive  me  witli  any  cor- 
diality. I  had  wished  to  preach  the  Gospel  in  Edinburgh, 
though  the  call  has  come  sooner  than  I  had  looked  for.  I 
have  a  desire  to  meet  the  anti-christian  influence  full  in  the 
face,  and,  in  God's  help,  to  wrestle  with  it.  I  love  the  Chui'ch 
of  Scotland,  and  would  contend  for  its  prosperity. 

"  These  are  weighty  considerations.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  would  break  the  heart  of  so  many  dear  friends  and  servants 
of  Christ  who  have  cherished  me  here.  I  fear  it  would  dis- 
perse the  flock,  and  smite  down  the  proposed  National 
Church.  I  see  the  victory  over  my  enemies,  in  and  out  of 
the  Established  Church,  to  be  already  at  liand,  and  their 
advantage  likely  to  be  promoted  by  my  continuance.     But  I 


REASONS   FOR   REMAINING   IN    LONDON.  237 

know  not  how  it  is,  the  considerations  on  this  side  of  the 
question  do  not  muster  so  strong. 

"  There  is  a  feeling  of  instability  —  a  sense  of  insufficiency 
connected  with  all  one's  undertakings  here  —  I  know  not  what 
to  make  of  it.  I  shall  consider  the  matter  very  maturely. 
Do  you  the  same,  and  return  me  your  (opinion)  by  return  of 
post.     Consult  also  your  dear  father  and  mother." 

The  wife's  answering  letter  does  not  seem  to  have 
been  preserved ;  and  in  the  next  (from  which  it  appears 
that  she  had  been,  as  w^as  natural,  inclined  to  the 
cliange)  he  intimates  his  decision.  In  the  meantime, 
he  had  removed  from  his  own  solitary  home  to  the 
hospitable  house  of  JVIr.  Montagu  : — 

''25  Bedford  Square;   lOtli  July,  1825. 

"  My  dearest  Wife, —  On  Sunday  I  desired  a  meeting  of  the 
church  and  congregation  at  six  o'clock  last  night,  and  then 
laid  before  them  both  my  resolution  to  remain  amongst  them, 
and  the  grounds  of  it ;  and  I  now  haste,  having  completed 
my  morning's  study,  to  lay  before  you  -what  I  laid  before 
them,  that  I  may  have  your  approbation,  which  is  all  that 
now  remains  to  the  full  contentment  of  my  own  mind. 

*'  The  invitation,  I  said,  had  three  chief  reasons  to  recom- 
mend it,  and  by  which  it  still  remains  on  my  mind  weightilv 
recommended  : — First.  That  so  well  advocated  in  your  letter, 
which  sunk  deep  into  my  thoughts,  that  it  might  be  the  call 
of  Providence  to  do  for  Edinburgh  what  I  had  been  called 
upon  to  do  for  London,  and  what  no  one  of  the  ministers  of 
God  had  done  before  I  came.  Secondly.  The  desire  I  had  to 
be  restored  to  the  communion  of  the  true  ministers  of  Christ 
and  servants  of  Grod  in  the  Church  of  Scotland,  who  hereto- 
fore, with  a  very  few  exceptions,  have  estranged  me  from 
their  confidence.  Thirdly.  The  love  which  I  had  to  a 
manageable  pastoral  charge.  On  the  other  hand,  three  more 
weighty  reasons  prevailed  with  me  to  remain  : — First.  Their 
desire  of  my  ministry,  and  assurance  of  co-operation  in  my 
official  duties,  which,  going  elsewhere,  was  all  to  work  for. 
Secondly.  The  consciousness  that  I  had  not  yet  told  half  my 


238  SKRMONS    OX   Till:   TKIMTY. 

messacfo  out  df  the  (idspd,  and  but  partially  fiililllod  my 
niiuistry.  Thirdly.  Tlio  desire  I  bad  that  my  countrymen 
should  yet  have  a  little  longer  trial,  and  the  opportunity 
whicli  a  new  church  woidd  afford  them  of  retiu-ning  to  the 
bosom  of  the  Church.  Lastly.  The  strong  love  which  I  bore 
my  people,  and  which  made  me  shrink  from  any  call  to  de- 
part but  such  an  one  as  was  very  imperious  and  strong.  But 
while  I  consented  to  stay  in  my  present  ministry  for  these 
weighty  roa.'^ons,  I  gave  them,  at  the  same  time,  distinctly  to 
understand,  that  such  a  call  might  be  given  me  as  would  be 
able  to  call  me  elsewhere ;  and  that,  without  a  call,  if  the 
Spirit  moved  me,  I  would  certainly  go  to  the  world's  end. 
Having  said  tliis  much  I  left  the  desk,  and  the  people  re- 
mained to  consider  what  was  best  to  be  done,  and  I  have  but 
heard  imperfectly  from  Mr.  Paul  and  Mr.  Howden,  who 
breakfasted  with  ns  this  morning,  that  it  was  conducted  in  a 
good  spirit. 

"  I  trust  that  my  dear  Isabella  will  approve  of  what  I  have 
done,  which  I  have  certainly  done  by  much  patient  delibera- 
tion, yet  with  a  strong  resolution,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
bicrh  sense  and  feelincr  of  all  the  considerations  on  the  other 
side.  The  thing  has  done  much  good  already,  and  will  do 
ranch  more,  chiefly  as  it  has  brought  out  the  declaration  and 
understanding  on  all  hands  that  I  may  be  called  away,  which 
the  people  here  had  little  thought  of.  Also,  that  I  will  stand 
justified  before  incredulous  Edinburgh  by  two  other  witnesses. 
For  I  am  not  to  seek  as  to  the  true  sentiment  that  is  still 
entertained  by  the  religioas  part  of  men  there  concerning 
me,  and  would  gladly  see  it  wiped  away. 

*'  Last  Sabbath  I  preached  in  the  morning  on  the  subject  of 
the  Trinitv,  showinff  that  the  revelation  of  the  Word  consisted 
of  three  parts — Law,  Gospel,  and  Obedience — which  were 
severally  the  forms  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost;  so  that  a  trinity  was  everywhere  in  the  Word  of 
God;  and  I  intend  to  continue  the  same  subject  next  Sab- 
bath, and  on  the  following  one  to  show  that  there  are  three 
constant  states  by  which  the  soul  expjesses  her  homage  to 
the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost : — First,  prayer ;  secondly, 
faith  ;  and  thirdly,  activity,  which  are  a  trinity  in  unity  with 
the  new  man.     In  the  evening  I  lectured  on  John  sending 


OriNIONS   IN   RESPECT   TO   MIRACLES.  239 

his  disciples  to  inquire  at  Christ  of  his  Messiahship,  showing 
thence  how  his  mind,  partaking  of  the  vulgar  error,  had  lost 
the  impression  of  the  outward  signs  shown  at  his  baptism, 
and  thence  arguing  the  total  insufficiency  of  that  manner  of 
demonstration  and  proof  to  which  the  last  century  hath  given 
such  exaggerated  importance.  I  showed  that  Christ's  action 
before  the  messengers,  and  his  message  to  the  Baptist,  was  a 
fulfilment  of  the  prophecy  in  the  61st  of  Isaiah,  which  led 
me  to  explain  the  great  point,  that  miracles  were  nothing  but 
the  incarnation  or  visible  representation  of  the  Holy  Grhost, 
as  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  of  the  Word  of  Grod ;  and  that,  as 
His  word  was  the  will  of  the  Father,  so  were  His  works  the 
acts  of  the  Spirit  dwelling  in  Him,  and  about  to  proceed  from 
Him. 

"  We  were  at  Allan  Cunningham's  last  night,  where  I  met 
with  Wilkie.  They  all  desired  their  love  to  you  and  Margaret. 
Everybody  inquires  after  you,  and  rejoices  in  your  welfare. 
You  must  keep  yourself  quiet.  Let  not  ceremony  or  any 
other  cause  take  hold  of  your  kind  heart,  and  disturb  you 
from  necessary  quiet.  I  trust  little  Edward  continues  to 
thrive.  Cease  not  to  pray  for  him  and  me  as  for  yourself. 
I  see  not  why  we  may  not  pray  in  the  plural  number,  as  if  we 
were  present  together.  I  shall  keep  by  eight  in  the  morning 
and  ten  at  night  for  my  hours  of  prayer.  Oh,  Isabella,  pray 
much  for  me  !  I  need  it  much.  These  are  high  things  after 
which  I  strive,  and  I  oft  fear  lest  Satan  should  make  them  a 
snare  to  my  soul The  Lord  protect  you  all,  and  save 

you ! 

"  Your  affectionate  husband, 

"  Edward  Ieving." 

"  London  ;  25  Bedford  Square,  August  2d,  1825. 

"  4tli  August  :  Dies  natalis  atque  fatalis  incidit. 

"  '  The  day  of  birth  and  of  death  drawetli  nigh.' 

"  My  dearest  Wife, — ....  I  have  not  altered  my  mind 
upon  the  course  of  my  journey,  which  I  will  direct  forthwith 
to  Kirkcaldy  by  the  steamboat,  without  passing  at  the  present 
through  the  towns  in  England,  which,  if  all  be  well  ordered, 

I  can  take  upon  my  return I  greatl}'^  rejoice  that  you 

are  enjoying  the  quiet  and  repose  whereof  you  stand  so  much 


'240  SACUAMKNT   OF    DArilSM. 

in  need,  ami  that  little  Edward  is  thriving  daily.  The  Ldnl 
give  health  and  strenjj^h  to  his  soul !  1  pray  you,  my  dear 
Isabella,  to  be.ir  in  niiud  that  he  has  been  consecrated  to  God. 
l)y  the  Sacrament  of  liaptism,  whereby  Christ  did  Jissure  to 
our  faith  the  death  of  his  body  of  sin,  and  the  life  of  his 
spirit  of  righteousness;  and  that  he  is  to  be  brought  up  in 
the  full  faith  and  u.'^surance  of  the  fulfilment  of  this  greatest 
promise  and  blessing,  which  our  dear  Lord  hath  bestowed 
upon  our  faith ;  wherefore  adopt  not  the  ba.se  notion,  into 
which  many  parents  fall,  of  waiting  for  a  future  couversiun 
and  new  l)irth,  but  regard  that  as  fully  promised  to  us  from 
the  beginning,  and  let  all  your  prayers,  desires,  words,  and 
thoughts  towards  the  child  proceed  accordingly.  P^or  I  think 
that  we  are  all  grown  virtually  adult  Baptists,  whatever  we 
be  professedly,  in  that  we  take  no  comfort  or  encouragement 
out  of  the  Sacrament.  Let  it  not  be  so  with  you,  whom  God 
hath  set  to  be  a  mother  in  Israel. 

"  Since  I  ^vrote,  I  have  passed  a  Sabbath,  when  I  had  much 
of  the  Lord's  presence  in  all  the  exercises  of  public  worship, 
and  was  able  to  declare  the  truth  with  much  liberty ;  preach- 
ing in  the  morning  from  Rom.  viii.  3,  4,  and  opening  the 
sentence  of  death  which  there  was  in  the  law,  and  the  re- 
prieve of  life  which  there  was  in  the  work  and  gospel  of 
Christ, —  a  subject  which  I  mean  to  follow  up  by  showing  that 
the  reprieve  is  for  the  end  of  our  fulfilling  the  law,  which,  as 
an  antecedent  to  the  Gospel,  is  the  form  of  our  death,  as  the 
consequent  of  the  Gospel  is  the  form  of  our  life,  to  Ije  per- 
fected and  completed  in  the  state  of  complete  restitution, 
when  Christ  shall  present  His  Church  without  spot  to  His 
P'ather,  and  shall  then  resign  the  mediatorial  kingdom. 
This  all  deduces  itself  from  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity :  the 
Father  Ls  not  beloved  nor  obeyed  without  the  Son ;  but  the 
Son  sends  forth  his  Spirit,  that  we  may  be  enabled  to  come 
and  obey  the  Father.  So  that,  unless  the  law  be  kept  in  our 
continual  view,  the  Spirit  hath  no  end  nor  operation.  In  the 
evening  I  lectured  upon  Luke  vii.  29,  36,  setting  forth  the 
three  forms  of  the  Pharisees:  First, —  The  Pharisee  of  the 
intellect  or  rea.son  (of  whom  Edinburgh  is  the  chief  city), 
who  contemn  faith  and  form  equally.  Second, —  The  Pha- 
risee of  form,  who  cannot  away  Nvith  sptiritual  regeneration. 


(( 


OEIGINAL   STANDARDS.  241 


Third, —  The  Spiritual  Pharisee,  or  religious  world,  who  take 
up  notions,  and  language,  and  preachers  upon  second  hand 
from  spiritual  people,  instead  of  waiting  for  them  directly 
from  the  Spirit  by  the  working  of  faith  upon  the  divine  Word. 
I  pray  the  Lord  to  bless  these  discourses. 

"  I  have  agreed  with  Collins  about  the  publication  of  the 
Original  Standards  of  the  Church,  concerning  which  I  pray 
you  to  say  nothing.  I  shall  write  my  essay  on  the  salt  sea 
where  Knox  first  matured  his  idea  of  the  Scottish  Eeforma- 

tion My  dear  Isabella,  guard  against  the  formalities 

which  abound  on  every  side  of  you.  Let  me  find  you  grounded 
and  strengthened  in  the  spirit  of  godliness.  For  the  other 
book*,  it  is  nearly  finished.  I  have  just  brought  to  a  close 
the  destruction  of  Babylon.  And  I  have  a  part  to  write 
upon  the  things  which  follow  till  the  revelation  of  our  blessed 
Eedeemer  in  the  clouds  of  heaven.  Pray  Grod  that  my  pen 
may  be  guided  to  truth,  and  that  much  profit  may  flow  into 
the  Church  from  what  I  write !....!  pray  the  Lord  to 
bless  you  and  Edward  continually ;  write  me,  when  you  can 
do  it  without  wearying  yourself  or  injuring  your  health.  .  .  . 
Say  to  the  patriarch  that  I  have  got  a  noble  New  Testament, 
in  Greek,  with  all  the  Glosses  and  Scholise  of  the  Fathers, 
with  which  I  delight  myself.  The  Lord  bless  you  all !  Forget 
not  to  give  my  kind  regards  to  Mary,  and  to  encourage  her 
to  walk  steadfastly  in  the  faith. 

"  Yours  in  one  body  and  soul, 

"  Edward  Irving." 

The  publication  referred  to  in  the  above  letter,  the 
Original  Standards  of  the  Church,  did  not  actually  ap- 
pear till  many  years  later,  when  it  came  m  the  shape, 
not  of  a  simple  republication,  intended  for  the  edification 
of  all,  but  as  a  sharp  rebuke  and  reminder  to  the  Churcli 
of  Scotland,  between  whom  and  her  devoted  son  a 
gulfofseparation  had  grown.  It  does  not,  consequently, 
belong  to  this  period  of  his  history  ;  but  the  fact  that 

*  Babylon  and  Infidelity  Foredoomed. 
VOL.  I.  K 


•J4J  J5A1T1SMAI-    KKnr.NKKATlON. 

it  liad  ln'cii  N)  lonir  in  liis  iiiiml.  niid  ihiit  tlicso  docu- 
nuMit,"*  woiv  remgnised  by  liim  specially  as  llic  confession 
of ///.v  faith,  and  as  containing:  all  llu' ddc! lines  lor  AvhicJi 
li(?  afterwards  snlTeivd  tlie  penalties  of  tin-  Clnncli,  is  in- 
t«'reslini:  and  >iirnilicant.  No  man  in  niiulciii  limes  lias  so 
much  proclaimed  the  merits  of  those  ancient  standards, 
or  so  jiertinaeiou'^ly  rantrcd  himself  imder  th(>ir  shelter, 
as  this  man,  Avhoni  the  C'hnrch  which  holds  them  cut 
oil'  as  a  heretic. 

It  will  also  be  seen,  from  those  letters,  that  Irving  had 
ah'eady  found  his  way  to  those  views  of  baptism  which 
lie  did  not  pubHsh  to  the  world  till  some  time  after.  The 
instincts  of  fatherhood  had  quickened  his  mind  in  his 
investigations.  He  liad  found  il  iin])Ossible,  when  his 
thoughts  were  directed  to  this  subject,  to  rest  in  the 
vagueness  of  ordinary  conceptions ;  "  We  assuredly  be- 
lieve that  by  baptism  -vve  are  engrafted  in  Christ  Jesus," 
says  simjily  that  ancient,  primitive  confession  to  which 
lii"^  heart  turned  as  the  clearest,  simple  utterance,  un- 
controversial  and  single-minded,  of  the  national  faith. 
^^^len  Irving  turned  toAvards  that  fjuestioi),he  "assuredly 
believed"  the  canon  he  had  subscribed  atJiis  ordination; 
and  receiving  it  with  no  hikewaiin  and  indifrerent  be- 
lief, but  with  a  iaitli  inten>e  and  real,  came  to  regard 
the  ordinance  in  so  much  warmer  and  clearer  a  hglit 
than  is  usual  in  his  Church,  that  his  sentiments  seem  to 
]]ave  differed  fiom  those  of  the  High  Cluu'ch  party  of 
England,  who  hold  baj)tismal  regeneration, by  the  merest 
hair's-breadth  of  distinction — a  distinction  wliich, indeed, 
I  confess  myself  unable  to  appreciate.  This  intensified 
and  brightened  apprehension,  which  made  the  ordinance 
not  a  sign  only,  nor  a  vaguely  mysterious  conjunction 


LITTLE    EDAVARDS   ILLNESS   AND    DEATH.  243 

of  sign  and  reaKty,  but  an  actual,  effeGtual  sacrament, 
rejoiced  the  new-made  father  to  tlie  bottom  of  his  heart. 
His  soul  expanded  in  a  deeper  tenderness  over  the 
chrisom  child,  whom  he  "assuredly  beheved"  to  be 
"  engrafted  in  Christ  Jesus. "  Years  afterwards,  he  makes 
a  touching  acknowledgment  of  gratitude  for  this  insight 
—  given,  as  in  the  fervour  and  simplicity  of  his  heart  he 
beheved  it  to  be,  as  a  strengthening  preparation  agahist 
the  sharpest  personal  anguish  of  hfe. 

In  the  months  of  July  and  August  he  remained  alone 
in  London,  living  hi  the  house  of  his  friends  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Montagu,  and  proceeding  vigorously,  as  has  been 
seen,  in  his  labours  —  with  no  serious  fears  respecting 
the  boy  who  was  so  dear  to  his  heart,  of  whom  he  had 
received  comforting  news.  In  the  beginning  of  Sep- 
tember, he  went  to  Scotland  to  join  his  wife,  who  was 
then  in  expectation  of  the  birth  of  her  second  child. 
But,  with  the  cold  autumn  winds,  trouble  and  fear  came 
upon  the  anxious  household.  The  baby,  Edward,  had 
raUied  so  much  as  to  make  them  forget  their  former 
fears  on  his  account ;  but  it  was  only  a  temporary 
relief.  On  the  second  day  of  October,  a  daughter  was 
bom ;  and  for  ten  days  longer,  in  another  room  of  the 
house,  separated  from  the  poor  mother,  who,  for  her 
other  baby's  sake,  was  not  permitted  ever  again,  in  life, 
to  behold  her  first-born,  little  Edward  lingered  out  the 
troubled  moments,  and  died  slowly  in  his  father's 
agonised  sight.  The  new-born  infant  was  baptized  on 
Sunday,  the  9th  October,  for  a  consolation  to  their 
hearts;  and  on  the  Ilth,  her  brother  died.  Dr.  Martin, 
of  Kirkcaldy,  writing  to  his  father — the  venerable  old 
man  who  had  baptized  little  Edward,  his  descendant 

K   2 


244  SORROW    AND    CONSOLATION, 

of  tlic  fourth  sionoration  —  doscribos  Avitli  tears  in  liis 
voic<},  liow,  sittiiiLT  Ix'sido  tlic  little  boely,  he  could  do 
notliiuLr  hut  kneel  down  ;ind  wcr]).  till  reuiinded  of  the 
words  used  by  the  ehiUVs  lather  •"  in  a  sense  in  which, 
probably,  tliey  liave  not  often  been  ap[)lietl,  but  the 
force  of  wliieli,  at  the  moment,  was  very  striking,  when 
he  saw  all  about  him  (hssolved  in  tears,  on  viewing  the 
dear  infant's  cruel   struggle,  'Look  not  at  the  things 

■vvhicli  are  seen,  but  at  those  which  are  unseen!'" 

"  Edward  and  Isabella,"  he  continues,  "  both  bear  the 

stroke,  though  sore,  Avith  wonderful  resignation 

Two  nights  ago  they  resolved,  in  their  conference  and 
prayers  concerning  him,  to  surrender  him  wholly  to  God 

—  to  consider  him  as  not  then-  child,  but  God's 

Wlien  her  husband  came  down  stairs  to-day,  he  said,  in 
reply  to  a  question  fi-om  her  mother,  'She  is  bearing 
it  as  well  as  one  saint  could  wish  to  see  another  do.' — 
Blessed  be  the  Holy  Name !  David  will  tell  you  that 
the  little  Margaret  was  received  into  the  Church  visible 

on  Sabbath  afternoon I  should  have  said,  that 

when  asseml)led  to  worship  as  a  family,  after  all  was 
over.  Mr.  Imng,  before  I  began  to  [)iay,  requested 
leave  to  address  us  ;  and  he  addressed  us,  all  and  several, 
in  the  most  affectionate  and  impressive  manner.  The 
Lord  bless,  and  fix  his  words!  In  testimony  of  his 
gratitude  for  the  consolation  afforded  him  and  his  wife,. 
lie  has  gone  out  to  visit  and  comfort  some  of  the 
afflicted  around  us." 

The  manner  in  which  Irving  himself  announced  this 
first  interruption  of  his  family  happiness,  with  an  ele- 
vation and  ecstasy  of  grief  which  I  do  not  doubt  will 
go   to  the   hearts  of  all   who    have   suffered   similar 


lEViya'S  AXNOUNCEMEXT  OF  HIS  CHILD'S  DEATH.      245 

angiiish,  as  indeed  the  writer  can  scarcely  transcribe  it 
without  tears,  will  be  seen  by  the  following  letter, 
addressed  to  WiUiam  Hamilton,  and  written  on  the 
day  of  death  itself : — 

«  Kirkcaldy,  llth  October,  1825. 

"Our  deaklt-beloved  Friend, — The  hand  of  the  Lord 
hath  touched  my  wife  and  me,  and  taken  from  us  our  well- 
beloved  child,  sweet  Edward,  who  was  dear  to  you  also,  as 
he  was  to  all  who  knew  him.  But  before  taking  him,  He 
gave  unto  us  good  comfort  of  the  Holy  Gfhost,  as  He  doth  to 
all  His  faithful  servants  ;  and  we  are  comforted,  verily  we  are 
comforted.  Let  the  Lord  be  praised,  who  hath  visited  the 
lowly,  and  raised  them  up  ! 

"  If  you  had  been  here  yesterday  and  this  day  when  our 
little  babe  was  taken,  you  would  have  seen  the  stroke  of 
death  subdued  by  faith,  and  the  strength  of  the  grave  over- 
come ;  for  the  Lord  hath  made  His  grace  to  be  known  unto 
us  in  the  inward  part.  I  feel  that  the  Lord  hath  well  done 
in  that  He  hath  afflicted  me,  and  that  by  His  grace  I  shall  be 
a  more  faithful  minister  unto  you,  and  unto  all  the  flock 
committed  to  my  charge.  Now  is  my  heart  broken  —  now 
is  its  hardness  melted ;  and  my  pride  is  humbled,  and  my 
strength  is  renewed.    The  good  name  of  the  Lord  be  praised  ! 

"  Our  little  Edward,  dear  friend,  is  gone  the  way  of  all  the 
earth ;  and  his  mother  and  I  are  sustained  by  the  Prince  and 
Saviour  who  hath  abolished  death  and  brought  life  and  im- 
mortality  to  light.  The  affection  which  you  bear  to  us,  or 
did  bear  towards  the  dear  child  who  is  departed,  we  desire 
that  you  will  not  spend  it  in  unavailing  sorrow,  but  elevate  it 
unto  Him  who  hath  sustained  our  souls,  even  the  Lord  our 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ ;  and  if  you  feel  giief  and  trouble,  oh, 
turn  the  edge  of  it  against  sin  and  Satan  to  destroy  their 
works,  for  it  is  they  who  have  made  us  to  drink  of  this 
bitter  cup. 

"  Communicate  this  to  all  our  friends  in  the  congregation 
and  church,  as  much  as  may  be,  by  the  perusal  of  this  letter, 
that  they  may  know  the  grace  of  God  manifested  unto  us  ; 
and  oh,  William  Hamilton,  remember  thyself,  and  tell  them 


246  LITTLK    KltWAHUS    MKM()1{Y. 

Jill   that  thoy  aro  dust,   nii<l    llmt  tliclr   children  arc  as  tlie 
flowers  of  the  field. 

"  Nevertheless,  God  granting  nie  a  safe  journey,  T  will 
preach  at  the  Caledonian  church  on  Sahbath  the  2.'5r(l,  though 
I  am  c»it  ofl'  from  my  purpose  of  visiting  tin;  churciie.s  by  the 
way.  The  Lord  be  with  you,  and  your  brethren  of  the  elder- 
ship, and  all  the  church  and  congregation. 

"  Your  aflfectionate  friend, 

"  Edward  Irving. 
"My  wife  joining  with  me." 

With  such  an  ode  and  outburst  of  tlic  highest  strain  of 
grief,  brought  so  close  to  the  gates  of  heaven,  tluit  tlie 
dazzled  mourner,  ovei'powered  with  tlie  greatness  of 
the  anguish  and  the  glory,  sees  the  Lord  within,  and  takes 
a  comfort  more  pathetic  than  any  lamentation,  was  the 
child  Edward  buried.  He  was  but  fifteen  mojitlis  old ; 
but  either  from  his  natural  loveUness,  or  from  the 
subliming  influence  of  his  father's  love  and  grief,  seems 
to  have  left  a  memory  beliind  liim  as  of  the  very  ideal 
and  flower  of  infancy.  By  his  father  and  mother  the 
child  wa.s  always  held  in  pathetically  thankful  remem- 
brance. "  Little  Edward,  tlieir  fairest  and  their  first," 
writes  one  of  Mrs.  Ir\ing's  sisters,  "  never  lost  his  place 
in  their  affections.  Writing  of  one  of  her  little  ones, 
some  years  afterwards,  my  sister  said,  '  I  have  said  all 
to  you  when  I  tell  you  that  we  tliink  her  very  like  our 
little  Edward ;'  "  and  the  same  lady  tells  us  of  Irving's 
answer  to  somebody  who  expressed  the  superficial  and 
common  wonder,  so  often  heard,  that  helpless  babies 
f-hould  grow  up  to  be  the  leaders  and  guides  of  the 
world,  in  words  similar  to  those  wliich  break  from  him 
in   his   Preface    to  Ben-Ezra  "  Whoso  studieth  as  I 


"  A   GLORIOUS    BUD  OF    BEIXG.  247 

have  done,  and  reflecteth  as  I  liave  sought  to  reflect, 
upon  the  first  twelve  months  of  a  child ;  whoso  hath 
had  such  a  child  to  look  and  reflect  upon,  as  the  Lord 
for  fifteen  months  did  bless  me  withal  (whom  I  would 
not  recall,  if  a  wish  could  recall  him,  from  tlie  enjoy- 
ment and  service  of  our  dear  Lord),  will  rather  marvel 
how  the  growth  of  that  wonderful  creature,  which  put 
forth  such  a  glorious  bud  of  being,  should  come  to  be 
so  cloaked  by  the  flesh,  cramped  by  the  world,  and 
cut  short  by  Satan,  as  not  to  become  a  winged  seraph  ; 
will  rather  wonder  that  such  a  puny,  heartless,  feeble 
thing  as  manhood  shoidd  be  the  abortive  fruit  of  the 
rich  bud  of  childhood,  than  think  that  childhood  is  an 
imperfect  promise  and  opening    of    the  future  man. 
And   therefore  it  is  that  I  grudged  not  our  noble, 
lovely  child,  but  rather  do  dehght  that  such  a  seed 
should  blossom  and  bear  in  the  kindly  and  kmdred 
paradise  of  my  God.     And  why  should  not  I  speak  of 
thee,  my  Edward !  seeing  it  was  in  the  season  of  thy 
sickness  and  death  the  Lord  did   reveal   in  me  the 
knowledge   and   hope   and   desire  of    His    Son   from 
heaven  ?     Glorious  exchange !     He  took  my  son    to 
His  own  more  fatherly  bosom,  and  revealed   in  my 
bosom   the   sure    expectation  and   faith  of  His  own 
eternal   Son !      Dear   season  of  my  life,    ever   to   be 
remembered,  when  I  knew  the  sweetness  and  fruitfid- 
ness  of  such  joy  and  sorrow." 

I  cannot  doubt  that  the  record  of  this  infant's  death, 
and  the  traces  it  leaves  upon  the  hfe  and  words  of  his 
sorrowful  but  rejoicing  father,  will  endear  the  great 
orator  to  many  sorrowful  hearts.  So  far  as  I  can 
perceive,  no  other  event  of  his  hfe  penetrated  so  pro- 


•248        IKVlNli    VISITS   TIIK   SOUROWFUL    IN    KIRKCALDY. 

fouiully  tlu'  (Icpllis  of  liis  spirit.  And  I  ciiiinot  lliink  it 
is  irreverent  to  lilt  tlu'  veil,  now  tliat  both  of  those 
most  coneerned  liavi'  rejoined  their  children,  from  that 
sanetnai'V  "I"  human  sormw,  laith,  and  |)alien('e.  Those 
of  us  "who  know  sui'h  days  of  darkness  may  take  some 
courage  from  tlie  sight.  Antl  such  of  my  readers  as  may 
have  b(^com(>  interested  in  the  domestic  portions  of  this 
histoiT  will  he  pleased  lo  jiear  that  the  little  daughter, 
born  under  such  lamentable  circumstances,  lived  to  grow 
up  into  a  beautiful  and  gifted  Avoman,  brightened  her 
fathers  house  during  all  hishfetime,  and  died — happily 
not  long  before  her  much-tried  and  patient  mother. 

Irving  remained  in  Kirkcaldy  al)out  a  week  after 
this  sad  event  ;  during  wliich  time  he  occupied  himself, 
"  in  gratitude  for  the  comfort  he  had  himself  received," 
as  it  is  pathetically  said,  in  visiting  all  who  were 
sorrcjwful  in  his  father-hi-law's  congregation.  Then, 
leaving  his  Avife  to  ])erfect  her  slow  and  sad  recovery 
in  her  father's  house,  until  she  and  the  new-boni 
infant,  now  doubly  precious,  were  fit  to  travel,  he 
went  aw^ay  sadly  by  himself,  to  seek  comfort  and 
strength  in  a  solitary  journey  on  foot  —  an  apostolical 
jouniey,  in  which  he  carried  his  Master's  message 
from  house  to  house,  along  the  way — to  his  father's 
hoase  in  Annan.  Mrs.  Irving  and  her  child  remained 
for  some  time  in  Scotland ;  and  to  this  circumstance 
we  owe  a  closer  and  more  faithful  picture  of  Irving's 
Hfe  and  heart  than  anything  which  a  biogra|)her  could 
attempt ;  than  anything,  indeed,  which,  so  far  as  I  am 
aware,  any  man  of  modern  days  has  left  behind  him. 


249 


CHAPTER  XI. 


JOURNAL. 


The  correspondence  which  follows  needs  neither  in- 
troduction nor  comment.  No  one  who  reads  it  will 
need  to  be  told  how  remarkable  it  is.  It  was  Irving's 
first  long  separation  from  his  wife,  and  his  heart  was 
opened  and  warmed  by  that  touch  of  mutual  sorrow 
which  gives  a  more  exquisite  closeness  to  all  love. 
This  perfect  revelation  of  a  man's  heart,  and  of  a 
husband's  trust  and  confidence,  is  given  by  permission 
of  the  remaining  children  of  his  house.  It  will  be 
seen  to  begin  from  the  time  of  his  leaving  Kirkcaldy, 
after  the  sorrows  above  recorded. 

"  Annan,  18tli  October,  1825. 

"  My  deaeest  Wife, —  I  am  grieved  that  I  should  have 
missed  this  day's  post,  by  the  awkwardness  of  the  hour  of 
making  up  the  bag  at  noon  precisely,  beyond  which  I  was 
carried,  before  I  knew  that  it  was  past,  by  the  many  spiritual 
duties  to  which  I  felt  called  in  my  father's  house  and  my 
sister's.  .  .  .  But  I  know  my  dear  Isabella  will  not  grieve 
half  so  much  on  this  account  as  I  have  done  myself.  .  .  . 
And  now,  having  parted  with  all  the  household,  J  sit  down 
here,  at  the  solemn  hour  of  midnight,  to  write  you  how  it  is 
with  me,  and  has  been  since  I  left  you,  first  praying  that  this 
may  find  you  and  our  dear  babe  as  I  left  you,  increased  in 
strength. 

"  Andrew  bore  me  company  to  Peebles,  and  will  inform  you 
of  my  journey  so  far.     We  parted  at  two  o'clock  on  the  south 


250  WANOKRINCS  .\M()N(i  TlIK  HILLS. 

side  of  Poebles  liiidjro,  and  T  took  my  solitary  way  up  Glen 
Sark,  c^illinjr  at   every  sliepherd's  house  alouLj  my  route,  to 
(»l)tain  an  opportunity  of  adnionishini;  motlicr  and  children 
of  their   mortality,  and   so   i)roeee(led   till    I  set  my  face   to 
climb  the   hill  which  von  must   i)ass  to  get  out  of  the  Eflen. 
In  ascending  which,   I   had  the  sight  and  feeling  of  a   new 
phenomenon  among  the  moimtains,    a  terrible    hail-stonn, 
which  swept  down  the  side  of  the   opposite  mountain,  and 
came  upon  me  with  such  a  violence  as  required  all   my  force 
(»f  hand  and  foot  to  keep  erect,  obliterating  my  meagre  path, 
and   leaving  me  in  the  wildest  mountain,  wholly  at  a  non- 
plus, to  steer  my  way  ;  until  the  sun  l)reaking  out,  or  rather 
streaking  the  w^estwith  a  bright  light,  I  found  myself  holding 
right  east  instead  of  south,  and  night  threatening  to  be  upon 
me  before  I  could  clear  the  unknown   wild.     1  was  lonely 
enough  ;  but,  committing  my  way  unto  the  Lord,  I  held  south 
as  nearly  as  I  could  guess,  and  reached  the  solitary  house  in 
the  head  of  another  water,  of  which  Sam  may  recollect  some- 
thing; where,  forgathering  with  a  shepherd,  I  got  directions, 
and  set  my  breast  against  Black-house  heights,  and  reached 
my  old  haunts  on  Douglas  Burn,  where,  in   answer  to  the 
apostolic  benediction  which  I  carried  everywhere,  I  received 
a  kindly  offer  of  tea,  night's  lodging,  then  a  horse  to  carry 
me   through   the  wet,  all   of    which  in  my  haste    refusing, 
I  took  my  way  over  the  rough  grounds  which  lie  between 
that    and    Dryhope    by  Loch    St.    Mary.       My    adventures 
here  with  the  Inverness-shire  herds  and  the  dogs  of  Dryhope 
Tower  (a  perfect  colony,  threatening  to  devour  me  with  open 
mouth),  I  cannot  go  into,   and   leave    it   to   the    discourse 
of  the    lip.     Here  I  waded    the  Yarrow  at  the  foot  of  the 
loch,  under  the  crescent  moon,  where,  finding  a  convenient 
rock  beneath  some  overhanging  branches  which  moaned  and 
sighed  in  the  breeze,  I  sat  me  down,  while  the  wind,  sweep- 
ing, brought  the  waters  of  the  loch  to  my  feet ;  and  I  paid 
my  devotions  to  the  Lord  in  His  own  ample  and  magnificent 
temple  ;  and  sweet  meditations  were  afforded  me  of  thee,  our 
babe,  and  our  departed  boy.     My  soul  was  filled  with  sweet- 
ness.     '  I    did  not  ask   for  a  sign,'  as  Colonel  Blackadder 
says ;  Vjut  when  I  looked  up  to  the  moon,  as  I  came  out  from 
the  ecclesia  of  the   rock,  she  looked  as   never  a  moon  had 


AX   APOSTOLICAL   JOURXEY.  251 

looked  before  in  my  eye, —  as  if  she  had  been  washed  in  dew, 
which,  speedily  clearing  off,  she  looked  so  bright  and  beauti- 
ful ;  and  on  the  summit  of  the  opposite  hill  a  little  bright 
star  gleamed  upon  me,  like  the  bright,  bright  eye  of  our 
darling.  Oh,  how  I  wished  you  had  been  with  me  to  partake 
the  sweet  solacemeut  of  that  moment !  Of  my  adventure 
with  the  shepherd-boy  Andrew,  whose  mother's  sons  were  all 
squandered  abroad  among  the  shepherds,  and  oiu-  prayer 
upon  the  edge  of  the  mountain,  and  my  welcome  at  the  cot- 
tage, and  cold  reception  at  the  farm-house,  I  must  also  be 
silent,  till  the  living  pen  shall  declare  them  unto  you.  Only, 
I  had  trial  of  an  Apostolic  day  and  night,  and  slept  sweetly, 
after  blessing  my  wife  and  child.  Xext  day  I  passed  over  to 
the  grave  of  Boston,  at  Ettrick,  where  I  ministered  in  the 
manse  to  the  minister's  household,  and  tracked  my  way  up 
into  Eskdale,  where,  after  conversing  with  the  martyr's  tomb 
(Andrew  Hyslop's),  I  reached  the  Ware  about  half  an  hour 
after  George,  who  had  brought  a  gig  up  to  Orange,  and 
from  that  place  had  crossed  the  moor  to  meet  me ;  and  by  re- 
turning upon  his  steps,  we  reached  home  about  eleven  o'clock. 
But  such  weather !  I  was  soaked,  the  case  of  my  desk  was 
utterly  dissolved,  and  the  mechanical  ingenuity  of  Annan 
is  now  employed  constructing  another.  But  I  am  well,  very 
well ;  and  for  the  first  time  have  made  proof  of  an  Apostolical 
journey,  and  found  it  to  be  very,  very  sweet  and  profitable. 
Whether  I  have  left  any  seed  that  will  grow,  the  Lord  only 
knows. 

"  Many,  many  are  the  tender  and  loving  sympathies  towards 
you  which  are  here  expressed,  and  many  the  anxious  wishes 
for  your  welfare  and  hope  of  seeing  you,  when,  without  danger, 

you  can  undertake  it I  shall  never  forget,  and  never 

repay,  the  tender  attentions  of  all  your  dear  father's  house- 
hold to  me  and  mine.  The  Lord  remember  them  with  the 
love  He  beareth  to  His  own.  I  affectionately,  most  affection- 
ately, salute  them  all The  Lord  comfort  and  foster 

your  spirit.  The  Lord  enrich  our  darling,  and  make  her  a 
Mary  to  us 

"  Your  most  affectionate  husband, 

•Edward  Irving." 


262  AXNAX. 

"  Carlisle,  21st  Octobor,  1825. 

"  "Mv  HEAR  IsAHEi.LA,  Tlius  far  I  am  arrivL'd .siifely,and  find 
that  my  seat  is  tjvken  out  in  tiie  London  mail  to-morrow 
evening  at  seven  o'clock.  1  left  all  my  lather's  family  in 
goo<l  liealth,  full  of  aficction  to  me,  and,  I  trust,  not  without 
faith  and  love  towards  God.  iSIr.  Fer<j^usson  and  IMargaret 
ami  the  two  elde,st  boys  came  do^vn  from  Dumfries  on  Wed- 
nesday, and  added  much  to  our  domestic  enjoyment,  which, 
but  for  the  pain  of  parting  so  soon,  was  as  complete  as  ever 
I  had  felt  it ;  for,  though  my  heart  wa.s  very  cold,  I  persevered, 
l)y  the  force,  I  fear,  rather  of  strong  resolution  than  of 
spiritual  affection,  to  set  before  them  their  duties  to  God  and 
to  the  souls  of  their  children.  They  spoke  all  very  tenderly 
of  yon,  and  feel  much  for  your  weal,  and  long  for  the  time 
when  they  shall  be  able  to  comfort  you  in  person.  Thomas 
Carlyle  came  down  to-day,  and  edified   me  very  much  with 

his  discourse.     Dr.  Duncan  came  down  with  C M , 

who,  poor  lad,  seems  fast  hastening  into  one  of  the  worst  forms 
of  Satanic  pride.     He  desires  solitude,  he  says,  and  hates  men. 

"  Your  short  pencilled  note  was  like  honey  to  my  soul;  and 
though  I  have  not  had  the  outpouring  of  soul  for  you,  little 
baby,  and  mj'self  which  I  desire,  I  hope  the  Lord  will  enable 
me  this  night  to  utter  my  spiritual  affections  before  His 
throne.  I  am  an  unworthy  man —  a  poor,  miserable  servant, 
—  unworthy  to  be  a  doorkeeper;  how  unworthy  to  be  a 
minister  at  the  altar  of  His  house !  I  shall  write  you  when  I 
reach  London.  Till  tli<'ii  may  the  Lord  be  your  defence, 
my  dear  lamb's  nourishment  and  strength,  Mary's  encourage- 
ment, and  the  sustenance  of  your  unworthy  head.  Rest  you, 
my  dear,  and  be  untroubled  till  the  Lord  restore  your  health  ; 
then  cease  not  to  meditate  upon,  and  to  seek  the  improve- 
ment of  our  great  trial,  which  may  I  never  forget,  and  as  oft 
as  I  remember,  exercise  an  act  of  submission  imto  the  will  of 
God.  This  is  written  at  the  fire  of  the  public  room  among 
my  fellow-travellers.  The  Laird  of  Dornoch,  Tristram 
Lowther  the  wilful,  where  I  waited  for  the  coach,  expressed 
a  great  desire  that,  when  you  came  to  the  country,  you  would 

visit  him 

"  Your  true  and  faithful  husband, 

"  EnWAitD  IltVINO." 


INCIDENTS    OF   A   STAGE-COACH   JOURNEY.  253 

"  Myddelton  Terrace,  25th  October,  1825. 

"My  deak  Wife,  beloved  in  the  Lord, —  I  bless  you  and  our 
little  child,  and  pray  that  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
may  be  with  you  and  all  the  house. 

"  I  reached  London  late  (eleven  o'clock)  on  Saturday  night, 
by  the  good  preservation  of  Grod, —  to  which,  when  I  sought 
at  times  to  turn  the  minds  of  my  fellow-travellers,  I  seemed 
unto  them  as  one  that  mocked ;  but  though  we  were  a  grace- 
less company,  we  were  preserved  by  the  Lord.  On  our  journey 
there  occurred  nothing  remarkable  except  one  thing  which, 
for  its  singular  hospitality,  I  resolved  to  recount  to  you.  Our 
road  lay  through  Eutlandshire,  and  half  way  between  Upping- 
ham and  Kettering,  there  appeared  before  us,  on  the  top  of  a 
hill,  an  ancient  building,  but  not  like  any  castle  which  I  had 
ever  seen  before, —  being  low  and  irregular,  and  covering  a 
deal  of  ground,  and  built,  you  would  say,  more  for  hospitality 
and  entertainment  than  strength.  I  make  no  doubt,  from 
the  form  of  the  structure,  it  is  as  old  as  the  Saxon  times,  and 
belonged  to  one  of  those  franklins  of  whom  Walter  Scott 
speaks  in  '  Ivanhoe.'  ....  Now  mark,  when  our  road,  swing- 
ing up  the  hill,  came  to  the  gate  of  this  mansion,  which  was 
a  simple  gate, — not  a  hold,  or  any  imitation  of  a  hold,  of 
strength  — to  my  astonishment,  the  guard  of  the  mail  descended 
and  opened  the  gate,  and  in  we  drove  to  the  park  and  gate 
of  the  castle,  where  they  were  cutting  wood  into  billets, 
which  were  lying  in  heaps,  for  the  sake  of  the  poor  in  the 
village  beneath  the  hill.  One  of  these  billets  they  laid  in  the 
wheel  of  the  coach,  for  the  hill  is  very  steep  ;  and  while  I 
meditated  what  all  this  might  mean,  thinking  it  was  some 
service  they  were  going  to  do  for  the  family,  out  came  from  a 
door  of  the  castle  a  very  kindly-looking  man,  bearing  in  a 
basket  bread  and  cheese,  and  in  his  hand  a  pitcher  full  of 
ale,  of  which  he  kindly  invited  us  all  to  partake,  and  of  which 
we  all  partook  most  heartily,  for  it  was  now  past  noon,  and 
we  had  travelled  far  since  breakfast — from  Nottingham.  .  .  . 
So  here  I  paid  my  last  farewell  to  ale,  and  am  now  a  Nazarite 
to  the  sense.  Oh,  that  the  Lord  would  make  me  a  Nazarite 
indeed  from  all  lusts  of  the  flesh  !  .  .  .  .  Eemember  this  hos- 
pitable lord  in  your  prayers.     He  is  my  Lord  Londes,  and  his 


'254  AKKIVAL    AT    IIOMK. 

place  is  Rockin<;li:nn  Ca-stlc  The  M.iil-cDiU'h  li;i(li  iliis])ri\i- 
legc  from  hiiu  at  all  times,  ami,  I  uiiderstaud,  (liuin<^  thegreat 
fall  of  snow,  he  took  the  pai>si'ngt'is  in.  ami  eutertaiiu'd  them 
for  several  davs,  until  they  were  able  to  get  forward. 

"  I  arrived,  I  say,  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  Alexander  Ilaniilton 
wa-s  waiting  for  me  at  the  Angel,  with  whom  1  walked  to  this 
bouse  of  mourning,  and  found  JIall  getting  better,  and  all 
things  prepared  by  his  worthy  wife  for  my  comfort.  So  here 
I  am  resolved  to  abide,  and  meditate  my  present  trials  and 
widowhood  for  a  time.  lint  I  forget  not,  morning  and 
evening,  to  bless  you,  and  our  dear  little  lamb,  and  Mary  our 
faithful  servant,  and  to  sue  for  blessings  to  you  all  from  the 
Lord ;  and  truly  I  feel  very  lonely  to  ascend  those  stairs, 
and  lie  down  upon  my  lonely  bed.  But  the  Lord  filled  me 
with  some  strong  consolations  when  I  thought  that  a  spirit 
calling  me  father,  and  thee  mother,  might  now  be  ministering 
at  His  throne.  I  do  not  remember  ever  being  so  uplifted  in 
soul.  Yesterday  I  travailed  much  in  spirit  for  the  people, 
and  preached  to  them  with  a  full  heart ;  that  is,  compared 
with  myself;  but  measured  by  the  rule  of  Christian  love,  how 
poor,  how  cold,  how  sinful  I  This  morning  I  have  had  the 
younger  Sottomayor*  with  me.  Would  you  cause  inquiries  to 
be  made  what  likelihood  there  is  of  his  succeeding  as  a 
Spanish  teacher  in  Edinburgh  ?  .  .  .  .  Before  setting  out,  I 
resolved  to  write  3'ou,  however  briefly,  that  your  heart  might 
be  comforted  ;  for  are  not  you  my  chief  comfort  ?  and  ought 
not  I  to  be  yours,  according  to  my  ability  ?     I  assure  you,  all 

•  This  was  one  of  two  hrothen?,  Spaniards,  the  elder  of  whom 
had  been  abb<jt  of  a  monasteiy,  and  had  more  than  once  been 
intrusted  with  missions  to  Komc.  lie  had  been  enlightened  by  a 
copy  of  the  Bible  in  the  liVjrary  of  his  convent,  and  after  a  while 
had  been  obliged  to  flee  from  the  terrors  of  the  Incjuisition.  lie 
could  speak  scarcely  any  English,  but  was  kindly  helped  to  acqiure  it 
by  the  ladies  of  Mr.  Indng's  family.  The  younger  was  a  s(ddier, 
brought  to  Protestantism  as  much  hy  love  for  his  brother  as  by  love 
for  the  truth.  Irving  exerted  himself  in  htehalf  of  both,  and  treated 
them  with  great  and  constant  kindness.  The  abb^  married  a  lady 
whose  confessor  he  had  been,  and  whom  he  had  insensibly  led  intf) 
his  own  views,  and,  a.s  a  consequence,  into  persecution — but  died  early, 
leaving  his  widow  to  the  protection  of  his  devoted  brother. 


COMMENCEMENT   OF   JOURNAL-LETTERS.  255 

the  people  were  glad  to  see  me  back  again,  and  condoled 
with  us  with  a  great  grief.  The  Lord  bless  them  with  all 
consolations  in  their  day  of  affliction.  The  church  was  as 
usual  very  crowded,  and  I   had  much  liberty  of  utterance 

granted  me  of  the  Lord I   desire  my  love  to  your 

dear  father  and  mother,  and  my  most  dutiful  obedience  as  a 
son  of  their  house.  My  brotherly  affection  to  all  your  sisters, 
who  were  parents  to  our  Edward  ;  and  to  our  brothers,  who 
loved  him  as  their  own  bowels.  Oh,  forget  not  any  of 
you  the  softening  chastisement  of  the  Lord.  Walk  in  His 
fear,  and  let  your  hearts  be  comforted. 

"  Your  most  affectionate  husband  and  pastor  of  your  soul, 

"  Edward  Irving." 

"  Say  to  Mary :  '  Pray  for  the  Comforter,  even  the  Spirit  of 
truth,  which  proceedeth  from  the  Father.'" 

After  his  arrival  in  London,  his  letters  take  the  form 
of  a  journal,  commenced  as  follows  : — 

"  Let  me  now  endeavour  to  express,  for  the  informa- 
tion of  my  dear  wife,  and  for  her  consolation  under 
our  present  sore  trial,  and  for  tlie  entertainment  of  her 
present  separation  from  me,  and  the  gratification  of  all 
her  spousal  affections,  and,  by  the  grace  of  God,  for 
the  building  up  of  her  faith  in  Christ,  and  her  love 
towards  her  husband,  whatever  hath  occurred  to  the 
experience  of  my  soid  this  day,  and  whatever  hath 
occupied  my  thoughts  in  this  my  study,  and  whatever 
hath  engaged  my  activity  out  of  doors ;  and  for  her 
sake  may  the  Lord  grant  me  a  faithful  memory  and  a 
true  utterance. 

"  2^th. — This  morning  I  arose  a  little  after  seven 
o'clock,  in  possession  of  my  reason  and  of  my  health, 
and  not  without  aspirations  of  soul  towards  the  com- 
munion of  God  ;  but  poor  and  heartless  when  com- 
pared with  those  experiences  of  the  Psalmist,  whose 


•j.'ir.  Moi{MN(i   woKSinr. 

I^rayers  provontod  tlio  dmvninL;  of  tlic  morniniz,  nnd 
liis  mediliitioiis  tlic  iiiL(ht-wak-hcs ;  and  my  soul  being 
ailliftcd  witli  tlie  dowiiwarduci^s,  and  Avaiulering  of 
spirit,  and  coldness  of  heart,  towards  the  God  of  my 
salvation,  in  tlie  moniinir,  which  is  as  it  were  a  new 
resurrection,  it  was  IxM'ne  in  u])on  my  mind  tliat  it 
arose  in  a  great  measure  fn)m  my  not  realising  with 
abiding  constancy  the  Mediator  between  me  and  God, 
but  breakinrj  throuLdi,  as  it  were,  to  comnnino  witli  TTim 
in  my  own  strength — whereby  the  lightning  did  scathe 
my  soul,  or  rather  my  soul  abode  in  its  barrenness, 
imwatered  from  the  living  fountain,  in  its  slaveiy  unre- 
deemed by  the  Captain  of  my  salvation,  who  will  be 
acknowledged  before  lie  will  bless  us,  or  rather  who 
must  be  honoured  in  order  that  we  may  stand  well  in 
the  sight  of  the  Father.  When  the  family  were  assem- 
bled to  prayers  in  the  little  hbrary  (our  family  consists 
at  present  of  Mrs.  Hall,  her  niece,  a  sweet  young  woman 
out  of  Somersetshire,  and  a  servant  maid,  and  Hall, 
who  is  not  able  to  come  down  stairs  till  afternoon),  IVIiss 
Dalzell  *  and  Jier  sister  came  in  to  consult  me  concern- 
ing the  unsuitable  behaviour  of  one  of  the  Sabbath 
school  teachers,  who  was  becoming  a  scandal  unto  the 
rest  of  the  teachers,  and  had  b('oii  a  sore  trouble  to 
her,  and  whom  Satan  was  moving  to  trouble  the  general 
peace  of  the  Society.  Under  whicli  alUiction,  having 
given  her  what  present  comfort  the  Lord  enabled  rae, 
I  refrained  from  any  positive  d(;liverance,  or  even  hint- 
ing any  idea,  till  the  matter  should  come  before  our 
committee — against  wliich  may  the  Lord  grant  me  and 

•  A  lady  who  had  been  the  means  of  establishing  a  system  of 
local  .Sabbath  schools. 


HISTOEICAL   BEADING.  257 

all  the  teachers  the  spirit  of  wise  counsel  to  meet  and 
defeat  this  device  of  the  Evil  One.  How  the  tares 
grow  up  among  the  wheat  in  every  society,  and,  alas ! 
in  every  heart !  The  Lord  root  them  out  of  my  soul, 
though  the  pain  be  sore  as  the  plucking  out  a  right  eye 
or  a  right  hand.  After  worship  and  breakfast  I  com- 
posed myself  to  read  out  of  a  book  of  old  pamphlets 
concerning  the  Kevolution,  one  which  contains  a  minute 
journal  of  the  expedition  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,  for 
the  Protestant  cause,  into  England,  from  the  day  of  his 
setting  out  to  the  day  of  his  coronation ;  which,  wiitten 
as  it  is  in  a  spiritual  and  bibhcal  style,  brought  more 
clear  convictions  to  my  mind  that  this  passage  of  history 
is  as  wonderful  a  manifestation  of  God's  arm  as  any 
event  in  the  history  of  the  Jews  ;  being  the  judgment 
of  the  Stewarts,  the  reward  of  the  Orange  house, 
the  liberation  of  the  sealed  nation  from  its  idolatrous 
oppressors,  and  the  beginning  of  the  humiliation  of 
France,  which  went  on  for  a  century  and  was  consum- 
mated in  the  Eevolution,  of  which  the  remote  cause 
was  in  the  expensive  wars  of  Louis  XIV.,  exhausting  the 
finances,  and  causing  Louis  XVI.  to  be  a  '  raiser  of 
taxes,'  according  to  Daniel's  prophecy.  Oh,  that  some 
one  would  follow  the  history  of  the  Christian  Church, 
and  embody  it  in  chronicles  in  the  spirit  of  the  books 
of  Samuel !  There  is  no  presumption,  surely,  in  giving 
a  spiritual  account  of  that  which  we  know  from  the 
prophecies  to  be  under  spiritual  administration.  After- 
wards I  addressed  myself  to  Bishop  Overall's  Convoca- 
tion book,  concerning  the  government  of  the  Catholic 
Church  and  the  kingdoms  of  the  whole  world,  which 
digests,  under  short  chapters,  the  history  of  God's  reve- 
VOL.  I.  s 


•258  Risiior  ovi:ralls  convocation  nooK. 

lation,  aiul  nppoiids  a  canon  to  cacli.  Tn  llic  first 
twenty-two  of  which  clKi})tors  and  canons  I  Avas  aston- 
islied  to  find  tlio  full  declaration  of  what  had  l)(>en 
dawning  upon  my  mind,  viz.  that  the  maxim,  which 
since  Locke's  time  lias  been  the  basis  of  all  govern- 
ment, 'that  all  power  is  derived  from  the  people,  and 
held  of  the  people  for  the  people's  good,'  is  in  truth  the 
basis  of  all  revolution  and  radicalism,  and  the  dissolu- 
tion of  all  government  ;  and  that  governors  and  judges, 
of  whatever  name,  hold  their  place  and  authority  of 
God  for  ends  discovered  in  His  Word,  even  as  people 
yield  obedience  to  laws  and  magistrates  hj  the  same 
highest  authority.  Also  it  pleased  me  to  find  how  late 
sprung  is  the  notion  among  our  levelling  dissenters, 
that  the  magistrate  hath  no  power  in  the  Church,  and 
liOAv  universal  was  the  notion  anion i?  the  reformers  and 
divines  that  the  magistrate  is  bound  to  put  down  idol- 
atry and  will- worship,  and  provide  for  the  right  re- 
ligious instruction  of  the  people.  That  subject  of 
toleration  needs  to  be  reconsidered ;  the  liberals  have 
that  question  wholly  their  own  way,  and  therefore  I 
know  that  there  must  be  eiTor  in  it ;  f(jr  where  Satan 
is,  there  is  confusion  and  every  evil  work. 

"  I  went  out  into  the  garden  to  walk  before  dinner, 
and  with  difficulty  refrained  my  tears  to  think  how  oft 
and  with  what  sweet  dehght  I  hud  borne  my  dear, 
dear  boy  along  that  walk,  witli  my  dear  wife  at  my 
side  ;  but  had  faith  given  me  to  see  his  immortality 
in  another  world,  and  rest  satisfied  with  my  Maker's 
Avill.  Sir  Peter  LawTie  called  after  dinner,  and  be- 
sought me,  as  indeed  have  many,  to  go  and  live  with 
him  ;  but  nothing  shall  tempt  me  from  this  sweet  soU- 


"  IDOMTRY   OF   THE   MEMORY.  259 

tude  of  retirement,  and   activity  of    consolation,  and 

ministry  to  the  afflicted Wlien  he  was  gone  I 

went  forth  upon  my  outdoor  ministry,  and  as  I  wall^ed 
to  ]\Ir.  Wliyte's,  along  the  terraces  overlooking  those 
fields  where  we  used  to  walk,  three  in  one,  I  was  sore, 
sore  distressed,  and  found  the  temptation  to  '  idolatry 
of  the  memory;'  which  the  Lord  delivered  me  from — 
at  the  same  time  giving  the  clue  to  the  subject  which 
has  been  taking  form  in  my  mind  lately,  to  be  treated 
as  arising  out  of  my  trial ;  and  the  form  in  which  it 
presented  itself  is  '  the  idolatry  of  the  affections,'  which 
will  embrace  the  whole  evil,  the  whole  remedy,  and 
the  sound  condition  of  all  relations.  I  proceeded  to 
IVirs.  S.,  and,  being  somewhat  out  of  spirits,  was 
tempted  of  Satan  to  return,  but  having  been  of  late 
much  exercised  upon  the  necessity  of  imphcit  obedience 
to  the  will  of  God,  I  hastened  to  proceed,  and  was 
richly  rewarded  in  an  interview  with  the  mother  and 
daughter,  wherein  my  mouth  was  opened,  as  was  their 
heart,  and  I  trust  seed  was  sown  which  will  bear  fruit. 
Then  I  returned  home  through  the  chm'chyard,  full  of 
softness  of  heart Upon  my  return  home  I  ad- 
dressed myself  to  a  discourse  upon  the  text,  '  To  me  to 
live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  gain,'  until  the  hoiu'  of  evening 
prayer,  when  I  gathered  my  little  flock,  and  having 
commended  all  our  sphits  and  all  our  beloved  ones  to 
the  Father  of  mercies,  we  parted,  —  they  to  their 
couches,  where  I  trust  they  now  sleep  in  peace ;  I  to 
this  sweet  office  of  affection,  which  I  now  close  with 
the  deep  closing  knell  of  St.  Paul's  sounding  twelve  in 
my  ear.  My  beloved  Isabella,  you  are  sleeping  upon 
your   pillow ;    the   God  of  Jacob  make  it   rich   and 


260  DEVOTION    .\XD   STUDY. 

divine  as  llio  pillow  of  P:i(l;uiar:un  !  INfj'  litllo  darlinix, 
thou  art  ivstintj  on  iliv  motlu-r's  bosom  ;  tlie  Lord 
inako  tlioc  unt»>  us  what  Isaac  was  to  Ahrahain  and 
Sarah  !     rari'Wi'll.  my  beloved  ! 

"•27///  ( Jctolxr. — 1  am  so  worn  out  with  work  that  I 
fear  it  is  a  vain  undertaking  to  which  I  now  addi'esa 
myself,  of  giving  sonic  accoinit  of  the  day's  transactions 
to  my  dear  wife.  I  began  the  day  with  a  sweet  exercise 
of  private  devotion,  wherein  the  Lord  gave  me  more 
than  usual  composure  of  soul ;  and  having  descended, 
we  read  together  the  fourth  chapter  of  Job,  and  prayed 
earnestly  that  the  Lord  would  enable  us  to  fulfd  His 
will ;  at  and  after  breakfast  I  read  the  seventy-third 
Psalm  in  Hebrew,  and  in  the  Greek  New  Testament 
the  first  chapter  of  Hebrews.  After  which  I  went  to 
my  solitary  walk  in  the  garden,  and  was  exercised  with 
many  thoughts  Avhich  came  clothed  in  a  cloud,  but 
passed  encircled  Avitli  a  rainbow.  As  I  walked  I  em- 
ployed myself  in  committing  to  memory  some  Hebrew 
roots.  Having  returned  to  my  study,  I  addressed  my- 
self to  read  two  or  three  additional  chapters  and  canons 
in  the  Convocation  book,  and  am  a  good  deal  shaken 
concerning  the  right  of  subjects  to  take  arms  against 
their  sovereign.  Thereafter  I  laboured  at  my  dis- 
course, in  the  composition  of  which  I  find  a  new  style 
creeping  upon  me,  whether  for  the  better  or  for  the 
worse  I  know  not ;  Init  this  I  knr)w,  that  I  seek  more 
and  more  earnestly  to  be  a  tongue  unto  the  Holy  Spirit. 
My  dinner  being  ended  I  returned  to  my  readings,  and 
sought  to  entertain  my  mind  with  a  volume  of  my 
book  of  ancient  voyages,  which  delights  me  with  its 
simphcity.     I  had  a  call  from  Mr.   M ,  and  Dr. 


VISIONS    OF   THE    NIGHT.  261 

M with  him.     I  was  enabled  to  be  very  faithful, 

and  I  trust  with  some  good  effect Then  I  went 

to  church  to  meet  my  young  communicants,  and  the 
spiritual  part  of  my  people.  But  of  all  that  passed, 
sweet  and  profitable,  I  am  unable  to  write,  with  diffi- 
culty forming  my  thoughts  into  these  feeble  words. 
The  Lord  send  refreshing  sleep  to  my  dear  wife  and 
httle  babe,  and  to  His  servant,  who  has  the  satisfaction 
of  having  wearied  himself  in  His  service.     Farewell ! 

"  28^A  October,  Thursday. — This  day,  my  best  beloved, 
has  been  to  me  a  day  of  activity  and  not  of  study, 
feehng  it  necessary  to  he  by  and  refresh  my  head, 
whose  faintness  or  feebleness  hindered  my  spirit  from 
expressing  itself  last  night  to  its  beloved  mate.  My 
visions  of  the  night  were  of  our  dearly  beloved  boy, 
whose  death  I  thought  all  a  mistake  or  falsehood,  and 
that  he  was  among  our  hands  stiU ;  but  this  iUusion  was 
accompanied  with  such  prayers  and  refreshings  of  soul, 
and  all  so  hallowed,  that  I  awoke  out  of  it  nowise  dis- 
appointed with  the  sad  reality  ;  and  having  arisen,  I 
addressed  myself  to  the  cleansing  of  body  and  soul, 
and  especially  besought  the  Lord  for  simple  and  im- 
phcit  obedience  to  Hjs  holy  wiU,  of  which  prayer, 
methinks,  I  have  this  day  experienced  the  sweet  and 
gracious  answer.  At  family  prayers  and  breakfast  there 
assembled  Mx.  Hamilton,  our  brother  :  Mi-.  Darling,  one 
of  the  flock,  who  came  to  consult  concerning  the 
schools,  for  which  they  wish  a  collection,  to  which  I  am 
the  more  disposed  that  all  other  means  have  failed ; 
Mr.  Thompson,  the  preacher  who  visited  us  at  Kirk- 
caldy, and  came  to  present  me  with  his  httle  rehgious 
novel  of    The   Martyr,  a  talc   of   the   first   century; 


2fi2  15Ki:.\KFAST    TAliTV. 

opus  perdhrwilt' ;  Mr.  M .  ciirnli^  of  our  parish   of 

Clorkeinvcll,  ^vllo  faun,'  to  couhiuuk'  willi  luc  coikhtii- 
iiig  Sottoinayor  and  the  aflairs  of  the  i)aris]i,  a  man  ol" 
zeal,  but  I  fear  not  of  uuicli  wisdom,  yet  devoted  to 
the  Lord ;  ^Ir.  Ji)hustoue,  a  youuj^'  hiwyer  from  Ahi- 
wick,  four  years  an  iuiuate  of  Pears'  liouse*,  a  Clu-istiau 
likewise,  but  of  the  llaiheal  or  Dissentiug-for-disseutiug- 
sake  school; — I  trust  men  of  God:  and  a  sweet 
thouglit  it  is  to  me  tliat  the  Lord  should  encompass  my 
table  with  Ilis  servants.  For  whose  entertainment  Mrs. 
Ilall  (best  and  frugallest  of  housekeepers)  had  prepared 
a  ham  and  other  eatables,  with  which,  and  tea,  not  over 
strong,  we  were  Avell  pleased  and  thankful  to  satisfy 
our  hunger.  After  breakfast  Ave  set  out  (which  liad 
been  projected  between  Mr.  Hamilton  and  me)  to  see 
the  walls  of  the  new  church,  arising  out  of  the  earth 
in  massive  strength  to  more  than  the  height  of  a  man, 
where  we  found  Mr.  Dinwiddle,  Avith  his  daughters,  of 
wdiom  he  would  not  allow  one  to  go  to  Edinl)urgh  on 
a  visit  of  months  without  having  seen  it,  to  carry  the 
re[)orts  of  our  work.  This  careful  elder  having  pointed 
to  ^Ir.  Hamilton  the  remissness  of  the  overseer  to  be 
on  his  post  betimes,  we  proceeded  to  the  city ;  I  to 
visit  the  flock,  they  to  their  honest  caUings.     In  Mr. 

H 's  ho.spitim-n  of  business,  and  general  rendezvous 

of  Caledonian  friends,  I  wrote  for  Elizabeth  Dinwiddle  a 
letter  of  pastoral  commendation  to  Mrs.  Gordon,  througli 
whom,  Avlfe  of  my  heart  and  sharer  of  my  joys,  you 
^ylil  find  her  out  if  you  should  be  I'esident  in  the  city. 
Li  the  room  of  shawls,  muslin,  and  muslin-boxes,  wliich 

•  The   school-hou.se   at   Abbotshall,   Kirkcaldy,   referred  to   in 
Chapter  IV. 


A   DAY   IN   THE    CITY.  263 

your  father  found  cool  as  the  refreshing  zephyrs,  there 
were  four  Greeks,  negotiating  with  Alexander,  by  the 
universal  language  of  the  exchange,"  the  ten  digits,  for 
one  other  common  sign  had  they  not.  They  were  small, 
strong,  well-built  fellows,  turbaned,  with  black  hair 
curhng  from  beneath  high  skull-caps :  and  yet,  I  think, 
though  they  had  fire  in  their  look,  one  or  two  English 
seamen  carry  as  much  battle  in  their  resolute  faces  as 
did  these  four  outlandish  mariners.  But  I  hastened  to 
another  conflict, — the  conflict  of  sorrow  and  sickness, 
in  the  house  of  our  dear  brother  David,  whose  hurt  in 

his  head  threatens  him  grievously In  my  first 

visit  I  hked  the  complexion  of  his  sickness,  ill ;  he  was 
then  so  moved  and  over-acted  by  my  visit,  that  we 
judged  it  best  that  I  should  not  have  an  interview  with 
him.     He  had  spoken  much  and  delightfully  to   his 

excellent  wife I  gathered  the  family  together, 

and  having  spoken  to  them,  we  had  a  season  of  prayer. 

From  whence  I  proceeded  to  Mr.  L ,  in  order  to 

exhort  him  and  his  wife  concerning  their  children,  and 
especially  concerning  the  Sacrament  of  Baptism,  which 
they  sought  for  the  youngest,  two  months  old.  They 
are  two  saints,  as  I  judge,  and  our  communing  was 
sweet.     Thence  I  passed  to  Whitecross  Street,  in  order 

to  visit  an  old  couple,  Alexander  M and  his  wife 

(he  whom  we  got  into  the  pension  society).  They  are 
sadly  tried  with  two  sons,  one  of  whom  has  fits  of 
madness  ;  the  other,  according  to  his  father's  account, 
'  has  caught  the  fever  of  the  day,'  become  infidel,  which 
he  tells  me  is  amazingly  spread  amongst  the  tradesmen. 
Having  exhorted  them  to  zeal  and  steadfastness,  I  passed 
on  to  Sottomayor's,  whom  I  found  correcting  a  Spanish 


264  BOOK-STALLS. 

translation  of  DoililridLre's  '  Iviso  and  riwress : '  and 
after  much  sweet  discourse — for,  dear  Isabella,  he 
proves  well  —  liis  wife  eame  up,  and  he  interpreted  be- 
tween us.  She  is  peqilexed  most  to  give  u\)  the  honour 
of  the  Virgin  —  I  should  say  the  idolatry  of  the  Virgin. 
I  prayed  witli  them,  as  hi  every  other  place,  and  has- 
tened borne,  expecting  letters  from  my  Isabella,  which 
I  found  not,  at  rcntonvillo.  Thence  I  passed,  peeping 
at  the  book-stalls,  and  sometimes  going  a  step  out  of 
my  way,  but  purchasing  nothing,  though  sore  tempted 
with  St.  Bernard's  works,  mitil  I  reached  Bedford 
Square,  where  I  found  the  tw^o  proof-sheets  with  the 
letter,  which  was  like  water  to  my  soul.  But  one 
o'clock  has  struck.  William  Hamilton  came  at  six, 
when  wc  went  to  Sir  Peter's After  which,  re- 
turning home  with  sweet  discourse,  I  assembled  my 
family,  and  when  I  prayed  there  wept  one,  I  know  not 
wliich  (may  they  be  tears  of  penitence  and  contrition  !) ; 
and  ha\ing  supped  upon  my  cu])  of  milk  and  slice  of 
toast,  I  have  "wrought  at  this  sweet  occupation  till  this 
early  hour.  And  now%  with  a  husband's  and  a  father's 
blessing  upon  my  sleeping  treasures, — a  master's  bless- 
ing on  my  faithful  servant,  and  a  son  and  brother's 
upon  all  your  house, — I  go  to  commit  myself  to  the  arms 
of  Him  who  slumbers  not  nor  sleeps.     Farewell. 

"  Walthairistow,  29^A,  Friday. — This  morning,  my 
dear  Isabella,  I  excused  myself  a  little  longer  rest,  Ijy 
the  lateness  of  my  home-returning  last  night  and  my 
■weariness,  which  you  w^ill  observe  is  not  right,  for  un- 
less there  be  some  fixed  hour  there  can  be  no  regu- 
larity, of  wliich  the  great  use  is  to  fonn  a  restraint  upon 
our  wilfulness.  Moreover,  I  always  find  that  the  work  of 


CHKISTIAJf   COUNSEL.  265 

the  Lord  proceeds  with  me  during  the  day  accordino- 
to  my  readiness  to  serve  Him  in  the  morning.  Oh, 
when  shall  my  eyes  prevent  the  morning,  that  I  might 
meditate  in  His  law  or  hft  up  my  soul  unto  His  throne ! 
After  our  morning  prayers,  our  friend  Mr.  W.  came  in, 
much  grieved  in  spirit  by  the  vexations  of  the  world, 
and  the  mistreatments  of  one  whom  he  thought  his 
friend.  But  I  told  him  that  liis  faith  was  unremoved 
and  unremovable,  and  his  wife  and  children  spared  to 
him,  and  daily  bread  furnished  out  to  them  ;  therefore, 
he  ought  not  so  sadly  to  grieve  himself.  ....  I 
addressed  myself  to  my  main  occupation  of  preparing 
food  for  my  people,  beginning  a  lecture  upon  the  first 
three  verses  of  the  eighth  chapter  of  Luke,  which  I 
sought  to  introduce  by  giving  a  sketch,  chiefly  taken 
from  the  preceding  chapter,  of  what  kuid  His  mmistry 
was  hkely  to  be  in  these  cities.  In  which  I  think  I  had 
no  small  hberty  granted  to  my  mind  and  to  my  pen, 
for  which  I  had  earnestly  besought  the  Lord  in  the 
morning.  And  having  well  exhausted  myself  by  about 
one  o'clock,  and  brought  the  discoiu-se  to  a  resting  place, 
I  judged  I  could  not  do  better  than  gather  my  im- 
plements and  walk  over  to  Walthamstow,  that  I  might 
have  the  more  time  with  our  afflicted  friends.  ...  I 
pursued  my  road  alone,  reflecting  much  upon  the 
emptiness  of  all  our  expectations,  and  the  transitoriness 
of  all  our  enjoyments,  seeing  that  the  last  time  I  travelled 
that  way,  I  had  pleased  myself  with  having  found  a 
road  through  the  park,  by  which  you  and  I  and  dear 
Edward  might  oft  walk  out  of  a  summer  eve  to  see 
our  friends  ;  and  now  Httle  Edward  and  our  esteemed 
friend  are  in  the  dust.     Be  it  so.    I  praise  the  Lord  for 


liGti  IN    FAINTNESS   AND    rEIlYOUIl. 

His  goodness,  and  so  do  you,  my  dearest  wife.    I  foinid 

our  dear  friends  as  I  eoiild  liave  wislied Having 

assembled  tlie  family,  and  enoouraired  lliem  to  stand 
fast  in  tlie  Lord,  and  see  His  Avunders,  Ave  joined  in 
worslii}),  and  tlie  ladies  retired,  leaving  me  in  this  room, 
dear,  and  sitting  in  the  spot  where  our  friend  used  so 

cheerfully  to    entertain   us Oh,  Isabella,    my 

soul  is  sometimes  stiirnl  up,  and  sometimes  languishes 
Avitli  nuieli  faintness,  yet  with  a  very  faint  as  well  as  a 
veiy  fervent  cry,  I  will  entreat  Ilim  that  I  may  be 
wholly  Ilis,  in  my  strength  and  in  my  weakness.  I 
pray  for  you  all  continually.  I  bless  you  and  our  dear 
babe  night  and  morning,  not  forgetting  Mary,  whom  I 

entreat  to  advance,  and  not  to  go  back Now, 

my  dearest,  how  glad  should  we  be  that  the  fresh,  free 
air  of  our  house  was  eminently  serviceable  to  Hall, 
ANith  whom  it  miglit  have  gone  very  hard  in  his  con- 
fined place.  The  servant  is  now  about  to  leave  us ; 
and  then  we  are  Hall,  his  wife,  his  wife's  cousin,  three 

most  worthy  people So  be  wholly  at  rest,  my 

dearest,  concerning  my  comfort,  and  regulate  your  time 
wholly  by  consideration  for  your  health  and  dear 
[Margaret's.  The  solitude  does  me  good.  It  teaches 
me  my  blessedness  in  such  a  wife,  which  I  have  much 

forgotten,  but  now,  thank  God,  forget  not But 

time  hastens,  and  my  eyes  grow  heavy  and  my  concep- 
tions dull.  Tlie  Lord,  who  preser\Td  the  Virgin  and  the 
Blessed  Babe  on  their  journey  tQ  Egypt,  preserve  my 
"Nvife  and  balje,  and  bring  them  in  safety  to  their  home, 
and  their  home  in  my  heart.  Tliis  night  may  His  arms 
be  around  you,  and  soft  and  gentle  sleep  seal  your  eye- 
lids, and  when  you  awake,  may  you  be  with  Him.  Amen. 


"FOE   THE   COXSOLATION   OF   EDTTARD  S   MOTHEK."   267 

"29^A,  Saturday. — 

"  '  Long  have  I  viewed,  long  have  I  thought, 
And  trembling  held  the  bitter  draught ; 
But  now  resolved  and  firm  I'll  be. 
Since  'tis  prepared  and  mixed  by  Thee. 

"  '  I'll  trust  my  great  Physician's  skill, 
What  He  prescribes  can  ne'er  be  ill ; 
No  longer  will  I  groan  or  pine. 
Thy  pleasure  'tis  —  it  shall  be  mine. 

"  '  Thy  medicine  oft  produces  smart, 

Thoii  woimd'st  me  in  the  tenderest  part  ; 
All  that  I  prized  below  is  gone ; 
Yet,  Father,  still  Thy  will  be  done. 

'' '  Since  'tis  Thy  sentence  I  shall  part 
With  what  is  nearest  to  my  heart ; 
My  little  all  I  here  resign, 
And  lo  !  my  heart  itself  is  Thine. 

"  '  Take  all,  Great  God.     I  will  not  grieve, 
But  wish  I  still  had  more  to  give  ; 
I  hear  Thy  voice,  Thou  bid'st  me  quit 
This  favour'd  gourd  :  and  I  submit.' 


"  These  lines,  my  dearest,  were  brouglit  in  for  the 

consolation  of  Mrs.  I by  the  two  pious  sisters  in 

whom  our  departed  friend  used  to  rejoice  so  much.  I 
thought  them  so  pious  and  obedient  in  their  spirit 
that  I  immediately  copied  them  out  for  the  con- 
solation of  Edward's  mother.  Dear  Isabella,  if  the 
fruit  of  our  marriage  had  been  no  more  than  to  give 
birth  and  being  to  so  sweet  a  spiiit,  I  would  bless  the 
Lord  that  He  had  ever  given  you  to  my  arms. 

"I  am  in  Dr.  M 's  back  dhiing-room,  so  far  on  my 

way  home.  ...  So,  to  place  myself  in  the  sweetest  com- 
pany which  the  world  possesses  for  me,  I  have  taken 
my  pen  in  hand.     I  know  not  how  it  is,  my  dear,  that 


268  Tin:   SELilKT   OF    FELLOWSllir. 

I  find  not  the  conmuniion  I  looked  for  in  tlie  company 

of  Mrs.  1 .      Her  mind  is  ridL:;ety  or  lliLxlity;  I  know 

n(.)t  whicli.  ...  S>  it  is  with  me  also,  ami  with  all 
others  who  nourish  their  own  will  in  its  hidden  places. 
An  evidence,  my  dear,  of  those  who  nourish  their  own 
will,  is  the  carelessness  which  they  have  in  expressin<T 
their  thouirht^and  manifestin<T  it  to  others.  Ijeini^ manifest 
to  themselves,  they  stop  short,  and  heed  not  the  further 
reveahng  it.    IIow  this  has  been  my  character,  and  that 

of  Mrs.  I !    Hence  our  inability  to  enter  into  com- 

mmiion  ;  for  communion  implies  one  common,  not  two 
several  minds.  The  true  access  and  assurance  of  good 
society*  is  the  communion  of  the  Iloly  Spirit,  Avliich  if 
you  cultivate,  my  beloved  wife,  it  will  be  well  for  you 
in  all  relations,  and  so  also  for  me.  As  Christ  is  the 
author  of  all  true  regidation  of  the  mind  or  under- 
standing, or  reason,  so  the  Holy  Ghost  is  the  author  of 
all  true  love  and  affection  and  communion,  out  of  Avhich 

all  foniis  of  society  spring.     But  for  Miss  B ,  I 

think  her,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  a  faithful  and  true  dis- 
ciple of  the  Lord  ;  rather,  i)erhaps,  over-theological,  and 
not  enough  ])ractised  in  the  inward  obedience  of  the 
mind.  Oh,  my  dearest,  this  obedience  is  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  Christian, — obedience  in  the  thought,  obe- 
dience in  the  feeling,  obedience  in  the  action.  Think 
much  of  this,  for  it  is  true,  true  /  As  I  came  over  these 
fields  and  marshes,  and  by  that  running  water,  there 
revived  in  me  some  effeminate  feelings,  which  convince 
me  that  there  is  an  intimate  connection  between  the 
softer  and  more  luxurious  forms  of  nature,   and   the 

•  Irving  uses  tTiis  word   in  the   Scotch  sense  —  good  company, 
fellowship.     The  social  faculty  is  evidently  what  he  means. 


INFLUENCE    OF   THE    LANDSCAPE.  269 

softer  passions  of  the  mind ;  for  I  am  never  visited  with 
any  such  fleshly  thoughts  when  moving  througli  the 
mountams  and  wilds  of  my  native  country  ;  and  to  my 
judgment  this  tendency  of  visible  beauty,  variety,  and 
richness,  to  cultivate  the  sensual  part  of  our  nature, 
which  obscures  the  intellectual  and  moral,  is  the  true 
account  that,  being  left  to  themselves  without  rehgion, 
the  people  of  the  plains  sink  into  lethargy  and  luxury 
of  soul  far  sooner  than  the  people  of  the  mountains. 
The  eye  hath  more  to  do  with  the  flesh  than  any  other 
sense,  although  they  be  all  its  vile  ministers.  Oh,  when 
shall  I  be  deUvered  from  these  base  bonds?  When 
shall  I  desire  to  be  delivered,  and  loath  them  with  my 
soul  ? 

"  Dr.  M.  interrupted  me,  and  I  now  write  by  my  fire- 
side, whither  the  Lord  has  conducted  me  again  in  safety, 
preparing  all  things  for  my  reception.  I  have  finished 
both  my  discourses,  and  have  had  a  season  of  discourse 
and  prayer  with  the  three  women  whose  tears  are  the 
tokens  of  their  emotion.  Oh,  that  they  may  be  saved !  .  . 

Dr.  M pleases  me  not  a  little.     He  is   an  exact, 

but  formal  man,  yet  he  seems  to  possess  more  insight 
into  theology  than  I  had  thought.  One  discourse  was 
profitable,  and  full  of  argument.  The  University  *  makes 
progress,  and  the  goodnatured  Doctor  thinks  he  has  mel- 
lowed them  into  the  adoption  of  some  measure  defensive 
of  religion.  He  pleases  himself  with  the  thought  that 
Dr.  Cox  can  do  everything  or  anything  with  Brougham. 
'  The  man  who  thinks  he  hath  Brougham  captive  hath 

*  London  University,  which  was  then  being  established,  and 
which,  in  consequence  of  the  exclusion  of  religion,  Irving  strenuously 
opposed. 


270  WISDOM   AND   TOWEU. 

cflught  a  Tartar.  ITo  lias  more  of  tlic  wliirlpool  quality 
in  him  than  any  man  I  liavo  met  with  ;  and  he  careth 
not  for  wisdom,  but  for  power  only.'  These  were  some 
of  my  exclamations  in  the  midst  of  the  Doctor's  sim- 
plicity. ( )l)serve,  Isabella,  that  the  pliilosopher,  or 
lover  of  wisdom,  is  a  grade  higher  tiian  the  lovers  of 
power,  or  the  monarchs  who  have  reached  it.  Hence, 
when  a  truly  great  man  chances  to  be  a  king,  he  desires 
wisdom  moreover,  as  Alfred  did,  and  others  after,  as 
Justinian  and  Xapoleon  ;  but  no  philosopher  ever  cared 
to  be  a  king.  Pythagoras,  or  Plato,  or  Socrates,  for 
instance.  There  are  no  philosophers  now-a-days,  be- 
cause they  are  all  ambitious  of  power  or  eminence. 
Even  Basil  ^Montagu  is  desirous  of  power, — that  is,  his 
own  will ;  and  Coleridge  is  desirous  of  power,  —  that 
is,  the  goodwill  of  others,  or  the  idolatry  of  himself. 
The  Christian  is  both  priest  and  king,  a  minister  of 
wisdom  and  a  possessor  of  power.  The  rest  I  leave  to 
your  own  reflections.    I  had  much  earnest  discourse  with 

!Mr.  T ,  on  our  way  home,  concerning  his  vocation. 

The  Lord  be  his  defence.  And  now,  Edward  Irving, 
another  day  hath  passed  over  thy  head,  and  hast  thou 
occupied  the  time  well?  Art  thou  worthy  of  to- 
morrow y  I  have  passed  the  day  amiss,  and  am  not 
worthy  of  to-morrow.  I  have  been  in  communion 
with  myself.  I  have  loved  myself  better  than  another. 
I  know  not  whether  I  have  been  altogether  temperate ; 
and  yet  will  I  praise  the  Lord,  for  I  have  prayed  oft, 
and  I  have  written  my  discourses  in  a  spiritual  frame 
of  mind.  But,  oh  !  my  meditations,  why  centre  ye  at 
home  so  much  ?  Now  may  the  Lord  prepare  me  for 
to-mon'ow's  holy  dawn,  and  all  my  people,  and  give 


PRAYEKS  FOR  THE  ABSEXT.  271 

me  strength  to  beget  one  unto  Christ,  whom  I  may 
call  my  son  !  How  doth  my  sweet  daughter,  my  dear 
child  ?  Thou  seed  of  an  immortal !  the  Lord  make 
light  thy  swaddhng  band,  and  salvation  thy  swathing 
round  about  thee !  And  thou,  my  most  excellent  wife ! 
when  shall  these  eyes  behold  thee,  and  these  hps  call  thee 
blessed,  and  these  arms  embrace  thee  ?  In  the  Lord's 
good  time.  When  Thou  judgest  it  to  be  best,  oh  my 
God,  direct  them  to  a  good  time,  and  conduct  them 
by  a  healthy  way.  Thou  doest  all  things  well.  And 
this  night  encircle  them  with  Thy  arm  where  they  lie, 
and  bless  the  house  where  they  dwell  for  their  sake. 
Make  my  wife  like  the  ancient  women,  and  my  child 
hke  the  seed  of  the  Fathers  of  Thy  Church.  And,  oh, 
that  Thy  sen^ant  might  be  held  in  remembrance  by  the 
generation  of  the  godly.  Bless  also  Thine  handmaiden, 
our  faithful  servant.  Even  so,  my  family,  let  the  bless- 
ing of  God  encompass  us  all. 

"  Sunday^  ^Oth. — This  has  been  to  me  a  day  to  be 
held  in  remembrance,  my  dearest  wife,  for  the  strength 
with  which  the  Lord  hath  endowed  me  to  manifest  his 
truth.  I  pray  it  may  be  a  day  to  be  remembered  for 
the  strength  with  which  He  hath  endowed  many  of  my 
people  to  conceive  truth  and  bring  forth  its  fruitfulness. 
Li  the  morning  I  arose  before  eight,  and  havmg  sought 
to  purify  myself  by  prayer  for  the  sanctification  of  the 
Sabbath,  I  came  down  to  the  duties  of  my  family — but 
before  passing  out  of  my  bed-chamber,  let  me  take  warn- 
ing, and  admonish  my  dear  Isabella  how  necessary  it  is 
for  the  first  opening  of  our  eyelids  upon  the  sweet  light 
of  the  morning  to  open  the  eye  of  our  soul  upon  its 
blessed  light,  which  is  Christ,  otherwise  the  tempter  will 


•J7J  LNTKKCKDING    KOK    TllK    TKorLi:. 

carry  us;  awa^'  1»>  li^ok  ii])oii  sonii-  vanity  or  folly  in  the 
kingdom  of  this  wtM'lil,  and  so  divert  our  souls  as  that, 
Avlien  tlicy  come  to  lift  themselves  up  to  God,  they  shall 
ilnd  no  concentration  of  spirit  upon  God,  no  sweet  How 
vi'  li'ily  desires,  no  strong  feeling  of  want  to  extort  sup- 
plication or  groanmgs  of  soul  —  so  that  we  sludl  have 
complainings  of  absence  instead  of  consolations  of  Ilis 
holy  presence  ;  harroimrss  and  leanness  for  faithfulness 
and  beauty.  So,  alas,  I  iound  it  in  the  morning,  but 
the  Lord  heard  the  voice  of  my  crying,  and  sent  me 
this  instruction,  which  may  He  enable  me  and  my  dear 
wife  to  profit  from  in  the  time  to  come.  After  our 
family  worship,  in  which  I  read  the  first  Chapter  of  the 
Hebrews,  as  preparatory  to  reading  it  in  the  church, 
Mr.  Liuwiddie,  our  wortliy  and  venerable  elder,  came 
in  as  usual,  and  we  joined  in  prayer  for  the  blessing  of 
the  Lord  upon  tlic  ministry  of  the  Word  this  day 
throughout  all  tlie  churches,  and  especially  in  Uie  church 
and  congregation  given  into  our  hand ;  whereupon  he 
departed,  having  some  preparations  to  make  before  the 
sei'vice,  and  I  went  alone,  meditating  upon  that  first  of 
Hebrews,  which  has  occupied  my  tliouglits  so  much  all 
the  week.  We  Ijegan  by  singing  tlie  first  six  verses  of  the 
forty-fiftli  Psalm,  whose  reference  to  Messiah  I  shortly 
instructed  the  people  to  l>ear  in  mind.  In  prayer  I  found 
much  liberty,  especially  in  confession  of  sin  and  hu- 
mihation  of  soul,  for  the  poople  seemed  bowed  down, 
veiy  still  and  silent,  and  full  of  solemnity —  then,  having 
read  the  first  of  Hebrews,  I  told  them  that  it  was  the 
epistle  for  instructing  tliem  in  the  person  and  offices  of 
Christ  as  our  mediator,  Ijoth  priest  and  king  ;  but  that 
it  wholly  bore  upon  the  present  being  of  the   man 


A   SUNDAY  S   SERVICES.  273 

Christ  Jesus,  from  the  time  that  he  was  begotten  from 
the  dead,  not  upon  his  former  being,  from  eternity 
before  He  became  flesh,  which  was  best  to  be  understood 
from  the  Gospel  by  John ;    but  for  the  new  character 
which  He  had  acquired  by  virtue  of  His  incarnation 
and  resurrection,  and  the  relations  in  which  He  stood 
to  the  Church  and  to  the  world,  this  epistle  is  the  great 
fountain  of  knowledge,  though,  at  the  same  time,  it 
throws  much  light  upon  His  eternal  Sonship  and  divinity, 
by  the  way  of  allusion  and  acknowledgment  in  passing ; 
that  the  purpose  of  the  epistle  was  to  satisfy  the  be- 
lieving Hebrews,  who  were  terribly  assailed  and  tempted 
by  their  unbelieving  brethren,  and  confirm  them  in  the 
superiority  of  Christ  to  Moses  as  a  law-giver,  to  Aaron 
and  the  Levitical  priesthood  as  a  priest,  and  to  angels, 
through  whose  ministry  they  believed  that  the  law  was 
given,  as  the  Apostle  himself  teacheth  in  his  Epistle  to 
the   Galatians.     And  therefore  he   opens  with  great 
dignity  the  solemn  discourse  by  connecting  Christ  with 
all  the  prophets,  and  exalts  Him  above  all  rank  and  com- 
parison by  declaring  His  inheritance.  His  workmanship, 
His  prerogative  of  representing  God,  of  upholding  the 
universe,  of  purging  our  sins  by  Himself,  and  sitting  at 
the  right  hand  of  the  majesty  on  high.    Then,  address- 
ing himself  to  his  work,  he  demonstrates  His  superiority 
to   angels,  in   order,   not   to   the   adjustment  of  His 
true  dignity —  which  he  had  already  made  peerless  — 
but  to  the  exaltation  of  the  dispensation  which  He 
brought,  above  the  former  which  was  given  by  angels. 
This  demonstration  he  makes  by  reference  to  psalms, 
which,  by  the  behef  of  all  the  Jewish  Church,  from  the 
earliest   times,   were   understood   of    Messiah,   which 

VOL.  I.  T 


274  EXrOSlTION. 

quotations,  liowever,  far  sur[)ass,  iurniitcly  surpass,  the 
purpose  for  uliitli  lliey  are  quoted,  placing  Ilini,  eacli 
one,  on  a  level  "svith  God,  to  us,  at  least,  to  whom  that 
doctrine  hath  been  otherwise  revealed.  ]jut  those 
Psalms  looking  iorwaril  to  Jli'ssiah\s  glory  can  conse- 
quently have  only  an  application  posterior  to  the  time 
that  He  was  Messiah,  and  that  He  was  Messiah  in 
humility.  Therefore,  the  '  this  day '  is  the  day  either 
of  His  bulli  or  of  His  ascension,  the  '  first-begotten ' 
is  fi'om  the  dead,  and  the  '  kingdom '  is  the  kingdom 
purchased  by  His  obedience  unto  the  death ;  and  hence 
the  reason  given  for  His  exaltation  is,  because  He  hath 
loved  righteousness  and  hated  iniquity.  These  trains 
of  reasoning  and  quotation  bemg  concluded,  I  challenged 
them  to  remark  the  sublimity  of  that  from  the  102nd 
Psalm,  and  thence  took  occasion  to  rebuke  them  very 
sharply  for  going  after  idolatries  of  profane  poets,  and 
fictitious  novelists,  and  meagre  sentimentahsts,  who  are 
Satan's  prophets,  and  wear  his  livery  of  mahce,  and 
falsehood,  and  mocking  merriment,  while  they  forsook 
the  prophets  of  the  Lord,  and  their  sublime,  pathetic, 
true,  wise,  and  everlasting  forms  of  discourse.  Then, 
having  begun  with  a  prayer  that  the  Lord  would  make 
the  reading  of  this  Epistle  effectual  to  the  confirming 
their  faith  in  Christ's  character,  offices,  and  work,  and 
possessing  them  of  the  efficacy  thereof,  I  concluded 
with  a  prayer  that  the  Lord  would  enlarge  our  souls  by 
thq.t  powerful  word  which  had  now  been  preached  to  us 
of  His  great  grace. 

"  Then  we  sung  the  last  verses  of  the  102nd  Psalm, 
and  prayed  in  the  words  of  tlic  Lord.  The  sennon* 

*  This  wonderftil  resume  of  the  day's  services  will  give  a  better 


SERMON.  275 

was  from  Phil.  i.  21 ;  to  which  I  introduced  their 
attention  by  explaining  my  object  to  show  them  the 
way  to  possess  and  be  assured  of  that  victory  over 
death,  of  which,  last  Lord's  day,  I  showed  them  the 
great  achievement  (Cor.  xv.  55 — 57) ;  then,  having, 
in  a  few  sentences,  embodied  Paul's  sublime  dilemma 
between  living  and  dying,  I  joined  earnest  battle  with 
the  subject,  and  set  to  work  to  explain  the  Hfe  that  was 
Christ,  which  I  drew -out  of  Gal.  ii.  20,  to  consist  in  a 
total  loss  of  personahty  and  self,  and  surrender  of  all 
our  being  unto  Him  who  had  purchased  us  Avith  His 
blood,  leaving  us  no  longer  '  our  own ' —  which  con- 
dition of  bemg,  though  it  seem  ideal  and  unattainable, 
is  nothing  else  than  the  obedience  of  the  first  great 
commandment,  '  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God, 
&c. ;  since  to  be  so  identified,  and  at  one  with  Christ, 
was  only  to  be  wholly  in  love  vnth,  and  obedient  to, 
the  Father.  Now  this  condition  of  life  must  insure  to 
all  who  have  reached  to  it,  the  same  grace  at  death 
wliich  Christ,  the  man  Christ,  the  Messiah,  by  His 
resurrection,  attained  to  —  or,  if  not  wholly  at  death, 
partially  then,  and  wholly  at  the  resmrection.  Por  I 
argued  from  the  2nd  of  the  Hebrews,  that  whatever 
Christ .  attained  to.  His  people  attained  to,  and  also 
from  all  the  promises  in  the  2nd  and  ord  of  the  Eeve- 
lations  to  those  who  overcome.  This  gave  me  great 
purchase  upon  the  subject,  allowing  me  the  whole  scope 
of  the  contrast  between  Christ's  humihation  and  ex- 
idea  than  any  description  of  the  lengthened  and  engrossing  character 
of  these  discourses,  into  which  the  preacher  went  with  his  whole 
soul  and  lieart :  and  of  the  extraordinary  fascination  Avhich  could 
hold  his  audience  interested  through  exei-cises  so  long,  close,  and 
solemn. 

T  2 


276  KVHXIXG    SERVICE. 

nltatioii ;   wliioli  liaving  wroiiglit  according  to  my  gift, 
I  then  proceeded  to  show  the  vuiiity  of  any  lower  esti- 
mate of  tlie  life  wliicli  is  '  Clirist '  by  touching  many 
popular  errors,  such  as  place  it  in  a  sound  faith  merely, 
or  in  a  correct  morality,  or  in  a  religious  conformity, 
against  which  havhig  opposed  the  univcrsaUty  and  un- 
reservedness  of  obecUence,  the  thoroughness  of  redemp- 
tion, and  the  perfectness  of  regeneration,  I  told  them, 
and  "warned  them,  of  sad  misgivings  on  a  death-bed,  of 
desperate  fears  and  hoodwinkings  of  the   conscience, 
show^ing  them  that  the  believer  could  not  die  hard,  like 
the  mibeliever,  or  brutified,  like  the  carnahst ;    and  I 
])i"ay(xl  til  em,  when  these  doubtings  came  upon  them, 
to  remember  that  this  day  they  had  been  warned  by  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel.     I  liad  a  good  deal  of  matter 
still  remaining,  but  ]\ii\  Lee's  child  being  to  be  bap- 
tized, and  the  quarterly  collection  to  be  gathered,  I 
stopped  there  —  the  place  being  convenient. 

"  We  sang  tlie  three  first  verses  of  the  23rd  Psalm,  and 
concluded.  Mr.  Hamilton  walked  Inmie  with  me,  and  we 
enjoyed  much  spiritual  discourse.  I  refused  to  dine  with 
him,  and  also  with  Mr.  Dinwiddie,  and  had  my  chop, 
which,  being  eaten  witli  thankfulness,  was  sweet.  Ben- 
jamin shared  with  me,  and  was  sadly  afflicted  to  hear  of 
little  Edward's  death.  I  am  sure  it  does  not  trouble 
you  to  speak  of  our  departed  joy,  else  I  would  desist. 
I  rested  the  interval,  meditating  upon  the  22nd  chapter 
of  Genesis  ;  and  having  gone  forth,  not  without  prayer 
and  thanksgiving,  to  my  second  ministry,  I  have  reason 
to  give  God  thanks  for  his  gracious  support.  From  the 
chapter  I  took  occasion  first  to  observe,  in  general,  that 
it  was  for  tlie  instruction  of  families,  as  the  fount  of 


HIS  RESPONSIBILITY  AS  HEAD  OF  THE  HOUSEHOLD.      277 

nations,  in  God's  holiness;  ....  I  observed  how  it 
was,  that  idolatry  in  the  people  and  true  piety  in  the 
king,  were  found  together ;  even  as,  among  the  Eoman 
Cathohcs,  you  have  among  the  priests  singular  saints, 
while  the  body  of  the  people  are  rank  and  gross  idola- 
ters  The  lecture  was  upon  Luke  xiii.  1 ;   when 

I  sought,  first,  to  give  the  character  of  oiu-  Lord's  minis- 
try in  their  towns  and  villages,  deriving  it  from  the 
specimen  of  Nain,  and  other  fragments  from  the  pre- 
ceding pages,  its  munificence  of  well-doing,  its  pubhc 
discourses,  sifting  and  sounding  the  hearers,  its  private 
ministrations  in  houses  and  famihes,  improving  each  to 
the  justification  and  recommendation  of  a  higher  kind 
of  ministry  than  what  presently  prevails  among  us.  .  . 
Such,  dear,  hath  been  my  employment  this  day,  of  which 
I  give  you  this  account  before  I  sleep,  that  you  may  be 
edified,  ....  The  Lord  be  gracious  unto  you,  and  to 
our  little  babe,  and  to  our  faithful  servant,  for  He  re- 
gards me  accountable  for  all  my  household.  Therefore 
I  exhort  you  all  to  hohness  and  love.  The  Lord  re- 
unite us  all  in  peace  and  blessedness. 

"  Monday,  '^Ist  October. — I  now  sit  down,  my  dear 
Isabella,  to  give  you  the  humble  history  of  another 
day,  which,  from  yesterday's  exhaustion,  hath  been  a 
day  of  weakness.  Wliat  a  restraint  and  hindrance 
this  flesh  and  blood  is  upon  the  inflamed  spirit,  and  to 
what  degradation  that  spirit  is  reduced  which  doth  not 
beat  its  weary  breast  against  the  narrow  cage  which  con- 
fineth  it.  But  to  fret  and  consume  away  with  struggles 
against  the  continent  flesh,  is  rather  the  part  of  discon- 
tented and  proud  spirits,  than  of  those  who  are  en- 
lightened in  the  faith  of  Christ,  to  whom  the  encum- 


278  AT    llOMi:. 

brniu'c  wliicli  weiixlis  tlicin  down  is  a  constant  me- 
iiu)rial  of  the  resurrection,  iiiul  by  the  fuith  of  the 
resurrection,  soothed  down  into  ])atience  and  content- 
ment. ]3e.>?ides,  tlie  bodily  lite  is  to  them  tlie  period  of 
destinies  so  infinite,  and  tlie  means  of  charities  so  en- 
larged, that  it  is  often  a  matter  of  doubt  and  question 
with  them,  as  with  St.  Paul,  whether  it  is  better  to 
depart  and  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better,  or  to 
remain  in  the  llesh,  whicli  is  more  profitable  to  tlie 
Cluu'ch.  And  I  do  trust  that  my  abode  this  day  in  an 
overstrained  tabernacle  hath  not  been  unprofitable  to 
that  Church  which  is  the  pillar  and  ground  of  the 
truth.  It  was  a  day  devoted  to  private  conversations 
with  those  wliu  propose,  for  the  first  time,  to  join 
themselves  to  the  church,  at  our  approaching  com- 
mmiion.     ^Vlien  I  came  down  to  breakfast,  my  table 

was  spread  wnth  the  welcome  news  of  Anne  P 's 

merciful  dehvery,  which  ]\Ir.  M had  come  to  tell 

me  of,  but  not  finding  me,  had  written  out.  Sottomayor 
was  waiting  for  me,  and  joined  with  us  in  our  morning 
worsliip.  He  is  in  good  cheer,  but  in  want  of  another 
hour's  teacliing,  in  order  to  keep  his  head  above  water, 
which,  I  trust,  will  be  obtained  for  him  by  that  merciful 
Providence  which  has  watched  over  his  wife  and  him. 
By-the-by,  I  had  taken  upon  me  the  task  of  inquiring, 
while  in  the  north,  what  opening  Edinburgh  presented 
for  his  brother,  the  soldier,  which  my  various  unforeseen 
duties  hindered  me  from  fulfilHng.  Would  you  give 
that  in  trust  to  some  one  and  let  me  know  ?  I  think 
Sottomayor,  the  priest,  is  truly  confirmed  in  the  faith, 
and  I  have  good  reason  to  tliiiik  that  the  soldier  is 
finding  relief  for  the  multitude  of  his  doubts.     There 


SCOTTISH   ADVENTURERS.  279 

came  also  to  breakfast  with  me,  a  Mi\  M and  a 

]VIi\  0 (I  think),  of  neither  of  wliom  I  know  any- 
thing, except  that  the  former  had  met  me  in  Glasgow. 
He  has  come  to  this  town  on  adventure,  hke  so  many 
of  our  countrymen,  and  came  to  me  in  his  straits  to 
help  him  to  a  situation,  leading  with  him,  or  being  led 
by,  the  other  lad.  I  thought  it  hard  enough  to  be  by  so 
slight  a  thread  bound  to  so  secular  a  work ;  but  look- 
ing to  the  lad,  and  seeing  in  him  an  air  of  seriousness 
and  good  sense,  and  thinking  of  his  helplessness,  I 
felt  it  my  duty  to  encourage  him  ;  and  though  I  could 
not  depart  fi'om  my  ride  of  not  meddling  with  secular 
affairs,  and  stated  so  to  him  plainly,  I  pencilled  him  a 
word  to  Alex.  Hamilton,  to  give  him  counsel.  At  the 
same  time  I  declared  to  him  wdiat  I  beheve  to  be  the 
truth,  that  this  coming  upon  venture  from  a  place 
we  are  occupied  well,  and  sustained  m  daily  food  from 
our  occupation,  merely  that  we  may  rise  in  the  w^orld, 
is  not  a  righteous  thing  before  God,  however  approved 
by  our  ambitious  countrymen  ;  and  though  it  may  be 
successful  in  bringing  them  to  what  they  seek,  a 
fortune  and  an  estabhshment  in  the  world,  it  is  gene- 
rally unsuccessful  in  increasing  them  in  the  riches  of 
the  kingdom,  in  which  they  become  impoverished 
every  day,  until  they  are  the  hardest,  most  secular, 
worldly,  and  self-seeking  creatures  which  this  metro- 
pohs  contains.  Let  them  come,  if  they  have  any 
kindred  or  friends  to  whose  help  they  may  come,  or  if 
they  be  in  want,  for  then  they  come  on  an  errand 
which  the  Lord  may  countenance  ;  but  let  them  come 
merely  for  desire  of  gain,  or  of  getting  on,  and  they 
come  at  Mammon's  instigation,  with  whom  oiu"  God 


280  Tiiv:  ri;ii:sT  and  his  iatiuhumens.  • 

(lofli  not  oo-oporatc  at   all I  bog;iii  llir  duties 

of    tlu'    (lay    at    Icn    o'clock,    \\'\{\\    Mrs.    C ,    tli(3 

^vonK^l  whom  Lady  ]\lackiiitosli  ivcoiiiiiu'iidcd  Lo  you 
for  a  matron.  She  has  hwu  a  mother  of  tears,  having 
lest,  sin(^'  she  cninc  to  "RiiLrl.'nid,  about  hventy-five  years 
ago,  husband,  and  child,  and  niothe]-,  and  brothers 
three,  and  all  her  kindi-ed  but  one  brother,  who  still 
lives  in  Buehan.  The  loss  of  her  little  danu-hter,  at  six 
years  of  age,  by  an  accident  upon  the  streets,  brought 
lier  to  the  veiy  edge  of  derangement,  in  the  excess  of 
her  grief,  so  that,  like  Job,  she  was  glad  when  the  sun 
went  down,  and  shut  out  the  t:heerf"ul  liu-Jit  IVom  Jier 
eyes.  But  the  L(nTl  restrained,  this  natural  sorrow, 
that  it  should  not  work  utter  death,  as  its  nature  is  to 
do,  in  consideration,  T  doubt  not,  of  her  Aiith,  and  for 
the  further  sanctilication  of  her  soul.  .  .  .  She  left 
Scotland  without  her  mother's  consent  (why,  I  cUd  not 
venture  to  ask),  and  in  six  months  her  mother  was  no 
more  to  give  or  withhold  her  consent,  Avhich  made  her 
miseries  in  England  have  something  in  them,  to  her 
mind,  of  a  mother's  curse  ;  and  tliis,  she  told  me,  was 
bitterness  embittered.  Tell  this  to  all  your  sisters,  that 
they  may  honour  their  parents,  and  never  gainsay  their 
mother.  Tell  it  also  to  Mar}%  and  let  Mary  tell  it  to 
her  sisters  ;  but  withhold  the  woman's  name  ;  that,  like 

many  other  things  I  write,  is  to  yourself  alone 

This  good  woman,  whose  face  is  all  wTitten  over  with 

sorrow  and  sadness,  like  Mrs.   M 's,  had  been  a 

member  of  Dr.  Nicol's  church  till  his  death,  whose 
ministry  had  Ijeen  to  her  a  great  consolation.  Tell 
tins  to  James  Nicol  wdien  you  see  liini ;  and  say  that, 
now  that  he  is  inlieriting  his  lather's  ])rayers,  he  nmst 


TWO    SISTERS.  281 

walk  ill  his  father's  footsteps,  and  comfort  the  afflicted 
flock  of  Christ,  which  is  our  anointed  calhng,  as  it  was 
that  of  our  great  Master.  Obey  this  at  the  command- 
ment of  your  husband.  This  woman  satisfied  me  well, 
both  as  to  knowledge  and  spmt,  and  I  admitted  her 
freely  thus  far.  She  is  now  a  sort  of  guardian-servant 
to  a  lady  in  Bloomsbury,  who  has  partial  and  occasional 
aberrations  of  mind.  The  Lord  bless  her  in  such  a 
tender  case! 

"My  next  spiritual  visitants  were  the  two  Misses 

A ,  whom  I  am  wont  to  meet  at  Mr.  Cassel's,  of 

whom  the  younger  came  to  my  instructions,  drawn  by 
spiritual  concern,  the  elder  to  accompany  the  younger, 
and  thus  both  have  been  led  to  come  forward — I  fear 
the  latter  still  rather  as  a  companion  than  as  a  disciple. 
But,  oh,  the  difference,  as  a  lad  who  has  just  parted  from 
me  said,  '  Grace  gives  to  the  youth  a  fuller  majesty,  with- 
out any  petty  pride,'  so  I  found  it  here  in  the  difference 
between  the  Hving  spirit  of  the  one's  conversation  and 
w^ords,  and  the  shaped  formahty  and  measured  cadence 
of  the  other.  I  propose  looldng  here  a  httle  deeper  ;  but 
as  I  have  several  days  devoted  to  further  instruction,  I 
made  no  demur  at  present,  though  I  counselled  them 
fervently  and  prayed  with  them  both.     My  next  was  a 

Miss  S ,  from  Johnstone,  near   Paisley,  v^rho   has 

come  to  London  to  be  under  her  brother's  medical 
care, — a  fine  Scotch  head,  with  an  art-pale  countenance, 
and  fine  Grecian  outhne  of  face :  she  is  a  regular 
member  of  the  church  in  her  native  place,  but  out  of 
her  own  will  came  to  speak  with  me  ;  and,  though 
feeble  in  strength,  we  were  able  to  commune  and  pray 
together  to  our  mutual  comfort.    My  last,  at  one  o'clock. 


282  A    COMTANION    VoR    HIS    ISABELLA. 

was  Mrs.   1\ ,  a    widow   lady  of  most  devout  and 

intelligent  ajjiiearanee,  who  has  been  in  the  habit,  for 
many  months,  of  attending  my  Wednesday  ministra- 
tions, bringing  a  son  or  a  daughter  in  her  hand,  witli 
the  latter  of  whom,  a  sweet  girl  of  about  seven,  she 
came  attended.  And  we  joined  in  discourse,  and  I 
found  in  her  a  most  exercised  and  tender  spirit,  whose 
husband  of  her  youth  had  been  cut  off  from  her  in 
the  East  Indies,  and  left  her  three  sons  and  a  daughter  ; 
the  former  she  had  now  come  up  to  town  to  prepare 
for  cadetsliips ;  afterwards  to  return,  with  her  daughter, 
to  the  countiy  again,  to  rear  her  in  the  fear  of  the 
Lord.  And  of  her  eldest  son,  whom  she  had  watched 
over  with  such  care  for  six  years,  having  for  that  time 
lived  with  them  in  Beverley,  for  no  other  end  but  to 
educate  them  herself,  in  which  occupation  she  met  with 
the  healing  of  God  to  her  own  soul  in  the  midst  of 
scoffers  and  deriders  (whereof  the  memory  to  mention 
drew  the  tears  from  her  eyes) — her  eldest  son,  who  had 
shown  no  siuns  of  ^race  under  her  most  careful  in- 
struction,  being  now,  like  herself,  for  the  sake  of  tlie 
Hindostanee  language,  placed  among  the  ahen  as  his 
mother  was,  has  since  shown  such  a  new  character,  and 
%vritten  such  letters,  as  she  never  expected  to  receive 
from  him ;  and  then  she  communed  with  me  of  sweet 
domestic  interests,  in  such  a  devout  and  simple  way, 
with  so  many  appHcations  for  instruction,  and  such  a 
tender  interest  in  two  half-caste  daughters  of  her  hus- 
band, whom  she  has  cared  for  as  her  own,  that  I  delight 
to  think  wliat  a  sweet  companion  she  will  make  for 
you,  my  dearest,  when  you  return.  Thus  passed  a 
forenoon,  not  without  its  mark  in  memory's  chart. 


A   SON    FROM    THE    LOED.  283 

"  I   walked   down   to   Mi^s.    M 's,  in  order   to 

inquire  after  Anne But  time   forestalls   my 

wishes,  dear  Isabella.  Twelve  has  struck,  and  the 
sweetest,  hohest  scene  of  the  day  remains  untold.  I 
prayed  for  a  son,  and  the  Lord  this  night  hath  brought 

me  my  son,  Henry  S ,  a  youth  who  called  on  me 

before  my  northern  visit,  and  then  showed  tokens  of 
grace  which  I  had  not  time  to  consider ;  but  this  night, 
though  but  an  apprentice,  he  hath,  being  the  last  of 
my  visitants,  showed   such  wonderful   seriousness   of 
mind,  soberness  of  reason,  purity  of  hfe,  and  richness 
of  character,  as  far  outpasses  in  promise  any  youth  that 
I  have  been  the  means  of  bringing  unto  Christ.     And 
when  at  nine  we  assembled  to  prayer,  and  Hall  showed 
his  pale,  emaciated  face,  and  head  but  sprouting  again 
from  the  shaver's  razor,  along  with   the  rest  of  my 
household,  and  I  gave  him  my  easy-chair  in  considera- 
tion of  his  weakness  —  Oh,  Isabella,  I  felt  hke  a  priest 
and  a  patriarch !  and  the  Lord  enabled  us  to  have  one 
of  the  sweetest  occasions  of  praising  Him  and  serving 
Him  which  for  a  long  time  I  have  enjoyed ;  so  that  we 
parted  bedewed  with  tears,  from  our  prayers,  in  which 
we  never  forget  you  and  our  separated  family.     After 
which,  while  I  partook  of  my  usual  repast,  I  glanced 
at  that  very  remarkable  article  '  Milton,'  in  the  '  Edin- 
bin^gh  Eeview,'    which  came  in  from  the  library.     I 
take  it  to  be  young  Macaulay's.     It  is  clever  —  oh,  it 
is  fuU  of  genius !  —  but  little  grace.     Theology  of  this 
day — pohtics  of  this  day — neither  sound.     Oh,  envi- 
ous Time,  why  dunnest  thou  me  ?     Oh,  envious  Sleep, 
why  callest  thou  me  ?     I  write  to  my  wife,  to  comforfr 
and  edify  her, —  and  bless  her,  and  my  babe,  and  my 


284  WRAKIXKSS. 

servant,  ami  nil  my  kimlivd  of  lior  father's  lionoiirahle 
uiidpiousliou.se.  Well,  I  come.  Farewell,  my  dear  wife. 

'■'■  Noreniht'r  l.s7,  Tucsdaii. — The  command  c^f  Kimjj 
George  could  iiul  have  m:id<'  me  take  a  ])en  in  my 
hand  this  night,  dearest  Isabella  ;  and  now  that  I  have 
taken  it  in  hand,  1  exceedingly  question  wliether  this 
weary  head  will  diive  it  over  another  line.  Jhit,  dear, 
your  thanks  with  me !  I  have  had  such  a  harvest  of 
six  precious  souls,  who.se  spiritual  communications  have 
carried  me  almost  beyond  my  power  of  enduring 
delight.  The  Lord  doth  indeed  honour  me.  But,  ah ! 
this  will  not  do ;  I  must  leave  off.  To-morrow,  the 
Lord  sparing  me,  I  will  set  forth  the  particulars  to  my 
Isabella,  whom,  with  my  dear  daughter,  may  the  Lord, 
this  night  preserve. 

"  Ind,  Wednesday. — It  was  well-nigh  nine  o'clock 
before  I  Avas  recruited  this  morning^  with  strenc^th 
enough  to  go  forth  to  my  labours  ;  for  these  mental 
and  spiritual  labours,  being  in  excess,  do  as  truly 
require  an  extra  quantity  of  rest  as  do  bodily  and 
social  labours.  But  I  have  risen,  thank  God,  well 
recruited,  and  have  proceeded  tliiis  far  on  the  day 
(five  o'clock)  very  prosperously.  The  first  of  my  com- 
municants yesterday  was  a  Mary  B ,  from  Hatton 

Garden,  a  young  woman  of  a  sweet  and  gracious  ap- 
pearance and  discourse,  A\ho,  with  her  mother  and  a 
numerous  family,  were  early  cast  upon  God's  care,  wlio 
hath  cared  for  them  according  to  His  promise.  I  was 
much  pleased  with  the  simplicity  and  sincerity  of  her 
heart,  and  the  affectionate  way  in  which  she  spoke  of 
'her  Lord  ;  so  tliat  she  left  no  doubt  on  my  mind  of  her 
being,  Uj  the  extent  of  her  knowledge  and  talents,  a 


A   SPIRIT  FULL   OF    INSPIRATIONS.  285 

faithful  and  true  disciple.     I  shall  seek  another  inter- 
view with   her  ;  for  I  do  not   feel   that    I  have   got 
acquainted  with  her  spirit,  or  else  it  is  of  so  simple  and 
cathohc  a  form,  as  to  have  no  character  to  distinguish 
it.     The  next  was  my  old  acquaintance,  Sarah  Evans, 
the  wild  girl,  who  was  somewhat  carried  in  her  mind, 
if  you  remember,  in  the  beginning  of  a  sermon,  and 
whom  I  visited  at  Dr. ,  in  Bloomsbury.     I  httle  ex- 
pected to  see  her  so  soon,  and  so  completely  restored  ; 
although  she  still  gives  one  the  idea  of  one  on  whom 
our  friend  Greaves  would  work  wonders  by  ardmal 
magnetism.     I  have  a  moral  certainty  that  this  is  her 
temperament,  and  that  her  temporary  instabihty  was 
rather  a  somnambuHsm  of  the  spirit  than  any  insanity 
or  derangement  of  mind.     Since  her  seventeenth  year 
she  has  been  a  denizen  of  this  great  hive  of  men, 
jfriendless  and  without  kindred,  and  has  partook  the 
watchful  care  of  the  Great  Shepherd.     She  is  a  spirit 
full  of  inspirations.     Her  very  words  are  remarkable, 
and  there  is  a  strange  abundance  and  fertility  in  her 
sayings  which  astonishes   me.     She  has  already  had 
much   influence    on    her    fellow-servants,   who    have 
banished  cards  and  idle,  worldly  books.     Poor  Sarah  ! 
(and  yet  thou  art  not  poor)  I  feel  a  strange  feehng 
towards  thee,  as  if  thou  wert  not  wholly  dwelling  upon 
the  earth,  nor  wholly  present  when  I  converse  with 
thee.     And  sure  it  is,  dear  Isabella,  she  has  always  to 
recall  herself,  as  from  a  distance,  before  she  answers 
your  hiquiries  ;  and  even  the  word  is  but  like  an  echo. 
Of  her  spirituality  I  have  no  doubt,  though  still  she 
seems  to  me  hke  a  stranger.     Her  master  at  present  is 
Dr.  H ,  one  of  my  brother's  medical  teachers  here, 


-2»G  m'.TUUXS   TO    Tin:    CONVOCATION    BOOK. 

>vlio  inquires  jit  licr  ocaisionally  nlKnit  my  brotlior, 
niul  about  llir  C'jilcdouiau  c-liui'i-li  ;  Iroiii  which  I 
jiresumc  that  every  one  recognises  in  lier  tlic  same 
unlikeness  to  anollier.  and  to  lier  station. 

"  These  occupied  me  till  eleven  o'clock,  after  which  I 
went  forth  to  breathe  the  air  into  the  garden,  in  expec- 
tation of  another  visitor ;  and,  as  usual,  for  his  memory 
hang^  oil  every  twig,  the  little  darhng  whom  I  used  to 
fondle  and  instruct  came  to  my  remembrance,  and  bowed 
me  down  wuth  a  momentaiy  sorrow,  wdiich  passed,  full  of 
sweetness,  into  what  liaiii  of  thought  I  have  now  for- 
gotten. I  occui)ied  myself  with  my  Convocation-book, 
which  is  to  me  what  a  politician  and  Christian  of  the 
year  IGOO  w^ould  be,  if  I  could  have  him  to  converse 
with  me  and  deliver  his  o])inions.  It  embodies  the 
ideas  of  the  English  Church,  in  full  convocation,  upon 
all  points  connected  with  the  government  of  the  Church 
and  of  the  w^orld  ;  and  hath  done  more  than  any  other 
thing  to  scatter  the  rear  of  radicalism  from  my  mind, 
and  to  give  me  insight  into  the  true  principles  of 
obedience  to  government.  There  are,  my  dear,  certain 
great  feelings  or  laws  of  the  soul,  under  which  it  grows 
into  full  stature  ;  of  which  oljedience  to  government  is 
(jue,  communion  with  tlie  Church  is  another,  trust  in 
the  providence  of  God  another,  and  so  forth ;  which 
form  the  original  demand  in  the  soul,  both  for  religion, 
and  law,  and  family,  and  to  answer  which  these  were 
appointed  of  God,  and  are  preserved  by  His  authority. 
My  notion  is,  that  the  ten  commandments  contain  the  ten 
principal  of  these  mother-elements  of  a  thriving  soul — 
these  laws  of  laws,  and  generating  principles  of  all 
institutions.     These  al.so,  I  think,  ougiit  to  be  made  the 


STUDY.  287 


basis  of  every  system  of  moral  and  political  philosophy. 
But  all  this  is  but  looming  .upon  my  eye,  and  durst  not 
be  spoken  in  Scotland,  under  the  penalty  of  high  treason 
against  their  laws  of  logic,  and  their  enslaved  spirit  of 
discourse.  By-the-by,  when  I  speak  of  Scotland,  it 
was  about  this  time  of  day  when  I  received  a  letter 
from  Dr.  Gordon,  asldng  me  to  preach  a  sermon  in 
some  chapel  which  Dr.  Waugh  has  procured  for  the 
Scots  Missionary  Society,  and  bring  the  claims  of  that 
Society  before  the  great  people  of  London.  I  mean  to 
answer  it  by  referring  them  to  my  Orations  on  the 
Missionary  Doctrine,  as  being  my  contribution  to  the 
Society.  .  .  .  But  I  must  go  to  the  church  to  preach 
from  John  xiv.  27.     The  Lord  strengthen  me. 

"And  now,  having  enjoyed  no  small  portion  of  His 
presence  for  one  so  unworthy,  I  return  to  my  sweet 
occupation  of  maldng  my  dear  Isabella  the  sharer  and 
partner  of  my  very  soul.  From  the  garden,  where  I 
communed  with  the  canons  of  the  convocation,  and 
with  my  own  meditations  on  these  elemental  principles 
of  wisdom,  I  returned,  and  upon  looking  over  my  paper, 
I  found  I  had  no  more  visitors  till  five  o'clock  ;  so  I  ad- 
dressed myself  to  my  discourse,  which  I  purposed  from 
Gal.  ii.  20,  in  continuation  and  enlargement  of  that 
from  Phil.  i.  21;  but  going  into  the  context,  I  was 
drawn  away  to  ^vrite  concerning  the  church  in  Antioch, 
which  occasioned  the  dispute  between  Paul  and  Peter, 
until  I  found  it  was  too  late  to  return  ;  so  that  my 
discourse  has  changed  its  shape  into  a  lecture,  and 
where  it  will  end  you  shall  know  on  Sabbath,  if  the 
Lord  spare  me.  At  five  came  a  young  man,  by  name 
Peter  Samuel,  of  a  boyish  appearance,  very  modest  and 


283  A    RK-UNION    Ol'    YOl'NC    (IIKISTIANS. 

backward,  a  iiativo  ol'  l^diiihur^lu  ami  l)y  Irado  a 
l)ainlLT  in  grain;  in  wIidiii,  isiboUa,  1  Ibuiid  ^[h-\\  n-al 
uttomnco  of  tho  si)irit,  such  an  upIiCU'd  and  enlarged 
soul,  that  I  could  l)ut  lie  back  upon  my  chair  and 
listen.  The  Lord  bless  the  youth  !  It  was  very  mar- 
vellous ;  such  grace,  such  strength  oi"  understandijig, 
such  meekness,  such  wisdom  !  lie  is  also  one  of  the 
fi'uits  of  my  ministry  ;  had  wandered  like  a  sheep 
■without  a  shepherd,  '  creeping  by  the  earth,'  ujitil,  in 
hearing  me,  he  seemed  exalted  into  the  third  heavens, 
at  times  hardly  knoAving  Avhether  he  was  in  the  body 
or  out  of  the  body.  'And  all  the  day  long,  at  my  work, 
I  am  ha|)i)y,  and  in  communion  with  the  church,  which 
is  eveiysvhere  dilTused  around  me  hke  the  air  ;'  and  he 
arose  into  the  mysteries  of  the  Trinity,  and  his  soul 
expatiated  in  a  marvellous  way.  At  six  I  had  made 
double  appointments  ;  the  one  for  James  Scott,  a 
stately,  bashfid  lad  from  Earlston,on  the  Leader,  between 
Lauder  and  Melrose —  the  residence,  in  days  of  yore,  of 
Thomas  the  Ehymer — who  is  come  to  tOAvn  to  prosecute 
his  studies  as  an  artist.  He  is  already  in  full  com- 
munion with  the  church,  but  loved  the  opportunity  of 
conversing  with  me ;  and  the  other  was  of  two  who 

desire  to   come  in  company,  John  E ,  a  man  of 

about  thirty-five,  and  C ,  a  young  lad  of  about 

twenty.  Moreover,  Samuel  had  not  departed ;  and  I 
think  they  had  been  congregated  of  the  Lord  on  very 
purpose  to  encourage  my  heart  and  strengthen  my 
hands,  for  it  is  not  to  be  told  what  a  heavenly  hour 
they  spent  in  making  known  the  doings  of  the  Lord  to 
their  souls;  and  the  two  latter  told  me  that  every  Sabbath 
they  held  meetings,  before  and  after  church,  with  others 


SELF-DENIAL   IN   KELIGIOUS   CONVEKSATION.  289 

of  tlie  cliiu-cli.  Poor  Samuel  had  been  lamenting  his 
loneliness,  but  now  his  soul  was  filled  with  company 
who  welcomed  liim  to  their  heart ;  and  Scott  had  now 
one  whose  spirit  and  manners  attracted  him ;  and  I  was 
lost  in  wonder  how  the  Lord  should  work  such  things 
by  my  unworthiness.  But  remembering  my  ministerial 
calhng,  I  opened  to  them  the  duty  of  self-denial  in  the 
expression  of  our  spiritual  experiences  before  the  world, 
lest  they  should  profane  these  sanctuaries  of  om^  God ; 
and  the  necessity  of  wisdom  to  veil  with  parable  and 
simihtude,  before  the  weak  eye  of  man,  the  brightness 
of  the  pitre  and  simple  truth,  reserving  for  the  Lord 
and  for  his  saints  the  unveiled  revelations  of  our  higher 
delights.  Upon  which  hfe,  having  enlarged  to  their 
great  seeming  contentment,  we  joined  our  prayers 
together,  and  they  departed.    Now  these  men  who  thus 

commune  together  are  of  most  diverse  ranks.     C 

is  a  gentleman's  son ;  E ,  though  of  high  expecta- 
tions, has  been  reduced  to  fill  some  mferior  ofiice  in 
Clement's  Inn;  and  the  others, whom  I  know,  are  Scotch 
lads,  workmg  as  journeymen  ;  so  true  is  it  that  there  is 
no  difference  in  Christ  Jesus.  After  seven  I  went  to  the 
meeting  of  the  Sabbath-school  teachers.  .  .  .  After  I 
retiu-ned  home,  I  wrote*  a  letter  to  Constantinople  to 

L ,  who  sends  us  the  figs,  exhorting  him  to  stand 

fast  among  the  ahen ;  which  altogether  was  a  day  of 
such  exhaustion  as  unfitted  me  for  writing  to  you  the 
particulars  of  it,  that  you  might  rejoice  in  my  joy,  and 
give  praise  unto  the  Lord,  when  you  know  the  blessing 
wliich  He  is  pouring  out  upon  my  ministry.  Oh,  that 
He  would  give  me  food  for  these  sheep,  and  a  rich 
pasture,  and  a  shepherd's  watchfulness,  and  the  love 
VOL.  I.  u 


•290  "  A    VKRY    RICH    IIARVHST. 

of  the  Chief  Slioplionl,  dial  T  niiglit  even  die  for  tliom 
if  ueod  wore  !  In  all  which  spiritual  conditions  I  an\ 
much  encouraged  by  what  yesterday  tlie  Lord  brought 
before  me. 

"And  now,  dearest,  this  day  hath  been  a  day  of 
thought  which  has  hardly  yet  taken  form  to  be  dis- 
tinctly represented  ;  but  on  Sabbath  1  w  ill  comniuuicate 
the  result.  Only  I  have  had  much  insight  given  me 
into  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  from  which  the 
matter  of  my  discourse  will  be  taken.  At  six  I  went 
forth  to  my  duties,  and  opened  to  my  children  the 
nature  of  the  Christian  Church,  as  being  to  the  world 
what  the  new  man  is  to  the  old ;  what  the  body,  after 
the  resurrection,  is  to  the  present  body.  .  .  .  After 
which,  commending  them  to  the  grace  of  God,  I  re- 
tui'ned  to  the  vestry,  and  came  forth  again  to  discourse 
to  the  people  of  Christ's  bequest  of  peace.  .  .  .  But 
though  my  head  could  thus  rudely  block  out  the 
matter,  I  wanted  strength  and  skill  to  delineate  it  as  it 
deservx'd  ;  w^hich,  if  I  be  in  strength,  I  shall  do  it 
another  tune.  .  .  .  After  the  lecture,  ten  more  came 
desirous  to  converse  with  me  ;  so  that  I  shall  have,  by 
the  blessing  of  God,  a  very  rich  harvest  this  season.  .  .  . 
The  Lord  be  with  thy  spint.     • 

"  Thursday,  Nov.  ?jrd. — Last  night,  my  dearest  Isa- 
bella, upon  my  bed  I  had  one  of  those  temptations  of 
Satan,  with  which  I  perceive,  by  your  affectionate 
letter,  that  you  are  oft  troubled,  and  which  I  shall 
therefore  recount  to  you.  The  occasion  of  it  was  the 
memory  of  our  beloved  boy,  who  hath  now  got  home 
out  of  Satan's  dominion.  That  morning  he  was  taken 
by  the  Lord  I  was  sleeping  in  the  back  room,  when 


TEMPTATIONS   OF   SATAX.  291 

dear  sister  Anne,  who  loved  him  as  dearly  as  we  all  did, 
came  in  about  three  or  four  o'clock  in  the  morninsc, 
and  said,  '  Get  up,  for  Edward  is  much  worse.'  The 
sound  of  these  words,  caught  in  my  sleeping  ear,  shot  a 
cold  shiver  through  my  frame  hke  the  hand  of  death, 
and  I  arose.  Of  this  I  had  not  thought  again  till,  last 
night  on  my  bed,  before  sleeping,  Satan  seemed  to 
bring  to  my  ear  these  words ;  and,  as  he  brought  them, 
the  cold  shiver  trickled  to  my  very  extremities.  I 
thought  to  wile  it  away,  but  it  was  vain ;  and  I  remem- 
bered that  the  only  method  of  deahng  with  liim  is  by 
faith,  and  of  overcoming  liim  by  the  word  of  God.  So 
I  took  his  suggestion  in  good  part,  and  meditated  all 
the  sufferings  of  the  darhng,  wliich  are  too  fresh  upon 
my  mind  ;  and  sought  to  ascend,  by  that  help,  to  the 
sympathy  of  our  Lord's  sufferings,  and  to  take  refrige 
(as  the  old  divines  say)  in  the  clefts  of  His  w^ounds  till 
this  evil  should  be  overpast.  Whereupon  there  came 
sweet  exercises  of  faith,  which  occupied  me  till  I  fell 
asleep,  and  awoke  this  morning  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord. 
I  make  Mondays  and  Thursdays  my  days  of  receiving 
friends ;  and  while  we  were  engaged  with  worship, 

Mr.  Ker  came  in,  and,  after  prayers,  ]\Ii\  C .   I  was 

happy  to  understand  from  the  former  that  Mr.  Cun- 
ningham, of  Harrow,  has  become  a  violent  opponent  of 
the  expediency  principle  in  respect  to  the  Apocrypha*, 
and  think  the  committee  will  come  to  the  righteous 
conclusion,  which  will  please  our  good  father  much. 

*  Referring  to  the  hot  and  bitter  conflict  then  going  on  in  the 
Bible  Society,  chiefly  between  the  parent  Society  in  England  and  its 
Scotch  auxiliaries,  Avhich  were  vehemently  opposed  to  the  insertion 
of  the  Apocrypha  along  with  the  canonical  Scriptures. 

V  2 


202  PASTOKAl,    VISITS. 

Mr.    C came  on    ]iiir]ioso    to    communicate    the 

dyinu:  iniunction  of  a  IViriid  w  lio  luul  been  converted 
iVoni  Unitarianism  b}'  my  discourse  ou  that  heresy  last 
sununer,  and  had  died  lull  of  faitli  and  joy  before  ful- 
lilhng  his  purpose  of  joining  my  churcli.  I  trust  he 
hatli  joined  our  Church  of  tlie  iirstborn,  wliose  names 
are  A\Titten  in  heaven.  As  we  went  to  the  city  toge- 
ther, Mr.  Ker  bore  the  same  testunony  to  the  blessing 
of  my  discourses  to  his  soul.  .  .  .  For  which  I  desire 
you  to  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord  wlien  you  pray 
secretly,  or  mtli  Mary  ;  for  it  is  a  great  blessing  to  our 
household  to  be  so  honoured.  I  found  our  friend 
David  at  length  able  to  see  me  again,  who  has  passed 
througli  a  terrible  storm  of  afflictions,  swimming  for 
his  hfc,  and  tried  with  great  agony  of  the  body  ;  but  in 
his  soul  above  measure  strengthened  and  endowed  with 
patience,  and  full  of  holy  purj^oses  and  continued 
acknowledgment  to  the  Lord.  .  .  .  His  wife,  and 
Martha,  her  sister,  bore  testimony  to  the  goodness  of 
the  Lord,  and  we  joined  our  souls  in  thanksgiving  with 
one  accord. 

"  Thence  I  w^ent  on  my  way  to  our  friends,  the 
G — ■ — 's,  who  now  hve  in  America  Square,  towards 
the  Tower.     I  know  not  how  it  is,  but  I  feel  a  certain 

infirmity  and  backwardness  to  speak  to  Alex.  G- 

concerning  spiritual  things,  though  I  love  liim,  and 
beheve  that  he  loves  the  truth  ;  against  which,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  I  was  enabled  in  some  measure  to 
prevail,  and  make  some  manifestation  of  the  truth,  and 
unite  in  prayer,  which  had  tlie  effect  of  bringing  him 
to  signify  his  purpose  of  waiting  upon  me  (I  suppose 
concerning  the  communion).     Tlie  Lord  receive  this 


A    SICK-BED.  293 

worthy  and  honourable  youth  into  the  number  of  his 
chosen  !     Thence  returning,  I  felt  an  inchnation  to  pay 

a  visit  to  Miss  F ,  in  Philpot  Lane  ;  but  resolved 

again  to  proceed  on  more  urgent  errands,  and  passed 
the  head  of  the  lane,  and  was  drawn  back,  I  know  not 
by  what  inducement,  and  proceeded  against  my  purpose. 
It  was  the  good  will  of  the  Lord  that  I  should  comfort 
one  of  His  saints,  and  He  suffered  me  not  to  pass.  I 
found  the  mother  of  that  family,  vv^ho  has  long  walked 
with  God,  and  travailed  in  birth  for  the  regeneration 
of  all  her  children,  laid  down  by  a  confusion  in  her 
head,  which  threatened  apoplexy  or  palsy ;  and  now 
for  three  days  afflicted,  without  that  clear  manifestation 
of  the  Holy  Comforter  wliich  might  have  been  expected 
in  one  so  exercised  with  faith  and  holiness.  Many  of 
the  friends  and  kindred  were  assembled  in  the  large 
room  below,  and  the  father  and  the  children  ;  to  whom 
ha\ing  ministered  the  word  of  warning  and  exhorta- 
tion, and  prayed  with  one  accord  for  the  state  of  the 
sick,  I  went  up  to  her  bedchamber  with  the  father 
and  daughters,  and  found  the  aged  mother  lying  upon 
the  bed  more  composed  than  I  had  expected.  I  taught 
her  that  Christ  was  the  same,  though  her  faculties  were 
bedimmed ;  that  her  soul  should  the  more  long  to 
escape  from  behind  the  dark  eclipse  of  the  clouds  ;  but 
not  to  disbeheve  in  His  mercy,  because  her  body  bur- 
dened her,  and  caused  her  to  groan.  We  bowed  down 
and  prayed,  and  the  Lord  gave  me  a  large  utterance  ; 
and  when  I  had  ceased,  I  could  not  refrain  myself  from 
continumg  to  kneel,  and  hold  the  hand  of  the  dear 
saint,  and  comfort  her,  and  utter  many  cjaculatory 
prayers  for  her  soul's  consolation  ;  and  I  was  moved 


294  COUUlXiC.lO's     "'  ST.    JOHN." 

even  to  tears  for  tlir  low  of  lior  soul.  With  which 
liaving  parted,  lier  daughters,  wlio  remained  beliind, 
came  down  and  told  us  that  she  was  much  comforted, 
and  had  proposed  to  compose  herself  to  rest.  The  Lord 
rest  lier  soul,  and  prepare  it  for  His  kingdom  !  thougli 
1  lio[)e  she  may  l)e  I'estored  again  to  liealtli.  .   .  . 

"  Thence  I  proceeded  to  Bedford  Scjuare,  by  Cheap- 
side,  and  gave  Mi'.  Hamilton  charge  of  your  letter,  which 
may  you  receive  safe,  and  with  a  blessing,  for  it  is 
intended  for  your  comfort  and  edification  in  the  faitli; 
that  you  may  know  the  goodness  of  the  Lord  to  your 
head,  and  rejoice  and  give  thanks.  On  my  way  to 
Bedford  Square,  I  called  at  Mr.  Macaulay's,  having 
heard  that  he  and  his  wife  were  poorly ;  and  with  a 
view,  if  opportunity  offered,  of  saying  a  word  to  their 
son  concerning  Milton's  true  character,  if  so  be  that  he 
is  the  author  of  that  critique.  For  I  held  with  him  once, 
but  now  am  assured  that  Milton,  m  his  character,  was 
the  archangel  of  Eadicahsm,  of  which  I  reckon  Henry 
Brougham  to  be  the  arch-fiend.  But  1  found  they  had 
gone  toHannali  More's  for  retirement  and  discourse.  The 
Lord  bless  their  communion  !  I  called  at  Mr.  Procter's 
to  look  at  two  marvellous  heads  by  Correggio — the  one 
of  the  Virgin  about  to  be  crowned  with  stars;  the 
other  of  St.  John:  certainly,  beyond  comparison,  the 
most  powerful  heads  I  have  ever  seen.  The  latter, 
they  say,  is  a  portrait  of  me.  But  I  do  not  think  so. 
I  cannot  both  ])e  like  the  Baptist  and  the  beloved 
Apostle  ;    I   would   I   were   in   spirit,    for   the   flesh 

profiteth  nothing.    Anne  V and  tlie  child  continue 

to  do  well,  and  the  poet  is  already  a  very  tender  fatlier. 
The  Counsellor  and  I  had  a  good  deal  of 


PRAYERS.  295 

private  discourse He  is  a  tender  father,  and  a 

well-meaning  man,  but  wilful ;  and  wilftilness,  dear 
Isabella,  is  weakness  and  inutility ;  the  excess  of  will 
being  to  the  same  effect  as  the  defect  of  will.  Yet  I  love 
him,  and  he  loves  me,  and  permits  me  to  open  truth 
in  a  certain  guise  to  his  ear.  The  Lord  give  me 
wisdom,  if  it  were  only  for  this  family !  I  returned 
home  to  peruse  Eckhard's  '  Eome,'  and  to  worship  with 
my  family  and  read  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  conclude 
by  writing  the  summary  of  the  day  to  my  dear  wife. 
And  now  I  return  to  my  chamber,  thankful  unto  Thee, 
oh  my  Father,  who  hast  protected  thine  miworthy 
cliild,  and  not  allowed  him  this  day  to  stray  far  from 
thy  commandments.  Thou  hast  made  me  to  know 
Thee  ;  Thou  has  exercised  my  soul  with  love  and 
kindness ;  Thou  hast  called  me  out  of  the  world  by 
prayer.  I  bless  Thee,  oh  my  God ;  I  exceedingly  bless 
Thee !  And  now,  my  tender  wife,  go  on  to  seek  the 
Lord  ;  wait  upon  Him  ;  entreat  Him  ;  importune  Him. 
Do  not  let  Him  go  till  He  give  thee  thy  heart's  desire. 
And  thou,  Margaret,  my  sister,  submit  thy  strong  spirit 
unto  the  Lord,  and  thou  shalt  find  peace.  And  EUza- 
beth,  my  sister,  persevere  in  the  good  part  which  thou 
hast  chosen,  and  thou  wilt  find  all  that  is  promised  to 
be  true  and  faithful.  And,  my  lovely  Anne,  be  com- 
posed in  thy  spirit  by  God,  who  will  dehver  thee  from 
all  tilings  that  disconcert  and  trouble,  and  make  thy 
spirit  lovely.  And,  my  David,  remember  our  covenants 
of  love  with  one  another,  wherein  thou  wert  oft  moved 
to  desire  God.     Oh,  forget  Him   not,   my  children ! 

Walk  before  Him,  and  be  ye  perfect May  He 

keep  us  as  the  apple  of  the  eye,  and  hide  us  under  the 


2%  ECCLESIASTICUS. 

sliiulow  of  TTis  Avinirs  tliis  night;  and  Avlien  wc  aAvake 
in  tlie  morning,  may  we  be  satisfied  with  Uis  likeness  ! 
"  Tuesday,  Nov.  ith. — I  feci  it  nccesssary  already  to 
be  on  my  gnard  against  the  adversary,  lest  he  should 
convert  tliese  journals,  intended  for  the  comfort  of  my 
dear  wife,  into  an  occasion  of  self-display  or  self-delusion ; 
and  the  more  because  I  have  been  singularly  blessed 
by  the  goodness  of  the  Lord,  which,  you  would  say, 
was  the  best  protection  against  him ;  but  the  Lord 
judged  otherwise  when,  after  enricliing  Paul  with  such 
revelations,  he  saw  it  wise  to  give  him  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh,  a  messenger  of  Satan  to  bufTet  him,  lest  he  should 
be  exalted  above  measure.  Therefore  let  me  watch 
my  pen,  and  the  Lord  watch  my  soul,  that  nothing 
pass  thence  to  the  eye  of  my  partner  wliich  may  in  any 
wise  convey  a  false  impression  of  my  heart.  I  liave 
resumed  my  custom  of  reading  the  lessons  of  the  day, 
besides  the  Psalms,  whatever  else  I  may  read  out  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  was  struck,  in  reading  out  of 
Ecclesiasticus,  with  the  odour  of  earthhness  which  tliere 
is  about  the  wisdom  of  it.  It  is  rather  shrewd  than 
divine ;  and,  I  am  convinced,  lias  httle  heavenward 
drift  in  it  to  the  soul.  But  how  much  more  spiritual 
than  the  maxims  of  Eocliefoucault,  or  any  other  modern 
who  has  sought  to  express  himself  by  aphorisms !  I 
wa.s  ni  great  danger  of  falling  under  the  spirit  of  indo- 
lence after  breakfast,  and  loitering.  The  sensation 
about  my  eyes,  which  foretells  a  listless  day,  made  its 
appearance ;  and  I  felt  inclined  to  stretch  my  limbs, 
and  take  up  a  book  at  hand,  and  while  away  the  time. 
But  I  thank  God  who  enabled  me  to  withstand  the 
enemy,  and  to  stir  myself  up  to  study,  which  I  prose- 


DETERIOEATIXG   EFFECT    OF   A    GREAT   CITY.  297 

cutecl  with  a  view  to  my  morning  sermon.  This  is 
beginning  to  take  shape,  and  will  form,  I  judge,  a 
digest  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  or  a  statement  of 
the  Apostle's  argument  for  the  abohtion  of  the  law  and 
the  liberty  of  faith,  in  order  to  my  afterwards  showing 
our  dehverance  from  the  forms  of  the  world  mto  the 
hberty  of  Christ. 

"This  was  a  fast-day  to  me,  at  least  a  soup-day, 
which  I  judged  good  for  my  health,  so  that  I  felt 
languid   the   whole   forenoon   until   four,   when   Miss 

A called  to  conduct  me  to  her  house.     The  two 

JMiss  A 's  jomed  our  chmTh  at  the  last  communion. 

Their  mother  had  died  some  months  before,  and  they 
are  orphans.  They  win  their  bread  by  the  needle,  and 
dwell  with  two  yomiger  brothers,  whom  they  wished 
me  much  to  converse  with.  Those  two  brothers  have 
no  one  over  them,  and  are  as  wild  as  the  beasts  of  the 
wood.  Though  only  fifteen  and  seventeen,  I  was  per- 
fectly amazed  at  the  irreverent,  thoughtless  way  in 
which  they  behaved  when  I  entered  —  nothmg  awed, 
notliiug  moved,  but  full  of  conceit  and  self-possession. 
The  eldest  is  a  clerk  in  a  writer's  (Anglice,  attorney's) 
office  ;  the  younger  is  a  sort  of  clerk  to  a  councillor, — • 
one  to  keep  the  door  of  his  office  open,  and  to  go  errands 
—  for  whom  his  master  is  glad  to  find  something  to  do. 
Oh !  what  a  horrid  effect  London  has  upon  the  character 
of  children !  It  is  only  beginning  to  be  revealed  to  me  in 
its  native  deformity.  The  awful  hiiquity  of  a  great 
city  is  nothing  to  its  silent  effects  in  deterioratmg  the 
races  of  men.  They  really  dwindle  as  if  they  were  plants. 
I  saw  at  once  that  if  I  was  to  be  profitable  to  these  two 
lads,  it  was  by  authority  as  well  as  by  affection ;  so  I 


2y8  TWO    LONDON    130VS. 

resolved  to  teaeli  tlieni  tlie  reverence  of  God,  and  of 
God's  word,  and  of  God's  messenger.  Tlie  eldest  sat  over 
aiiainst  nie  on  tlie  other  side  of  the  fire,  the  two  sisters 
working  at  the  table,  and  the  yonngest  beyond  the 
table,  and  he  would  not  be  persuaded  to  come  near  me. 
I  opened  my  way  by  speaking  of  their  orphan  state, 
and  their  want  of  counsel  and  authority  over  them. 
Then  I  passed  to  the  authority  of  God,  and  opened  the 
tendency  of  youth  to  be  headstrong  and  untamed.  The 
eldest,  I  perceived,  was  full  of  observation  and  thought. 
He  could  not  di\'ide  the  matter  between  the  authority 
and  affection  with  Avhich  I  spoke.  By  degrees  I  got 
him  to  open  his  mind,  which  was  very  wilful.  I  con- 
tinued to  oppose  to  his  whims  the  will  of  God,  and 
would  not  lower  the  discourse  to  any  compromise,  or 
indulgence  to  any  of  his  moods.  His  brother  had  to  go 
away  earlier ;  and  after  getting  him  to  sit  beside  me,  I 
spoke  to  him  with  great  earnestness  and  affection,  and 
blessed  him ;  but  whether  he  was  moved  from  his 
indolent  and  lethargic  obstinacy,  I  know  not.  Then 
with  the  eldest  I  dealt  for  another  hour,  in  various 
discourse,  which  I  am  now  too  weary  to  recall.  And 
when  I  knew  not  what  impression  I  had  made  upon 
his  short  and  hasty  temper,  which  I  saw  writhing  be- 
tween the  awe  of  the  truths  which  I  spoke,  and  the 
irritation  of  the  mastery  which  I  held  over  him,  the 
lad  rose  from  his  seat,  and  went  to  a  press  and  took 
out  a  parcel,  from  which  he  drew  forth  a  set  of  beauti- 
ful Httle  prints  of  Bible  subjects,  and  asked  if  I  had 
seen  them.  I  answered,  no.  Then,  said  he,  '  Will 
you  accept  them  from  me  P'  I  hesitated ;  but  perceiv- 
ing it  was  altogether  necessary,  if  I  would  have  any 


A    LOGICAL   COMPANION.  299 

further  dealing  mth  this  strange  spirit,  I  took  them ; 
and  here  they  are  before  me.     Upon  which,  his  hour 

of  seven  having  come,  he  went  his  way I  am 

weary,  but  very  well ;  and  give  the  Lord  thanks  for  his 
goodness,  praying  Him  to  strengthen  me  with  rest.  St. 
Pancras  is  ringing  up  the  hill  twelve  o'clock.  So  the 
Lord  compass  you  and  my  beloved  child.     Farewell ! 

'■'Saturday^  Nov.  5. — I  had  all  arranged  to  finish 

this  sheet  and  send  it  off  to-night ;  but  James  P 

is  come,  and  has  occupied  me  so  much,  and  the  Sabbath 
is  now  on  the  verge  of  coming  m,  and  I  have  much 
before  me,  therefore  I  delay  tliis  day's  summary  till 
to-morrow  evening,  if  God  spare  me.  But  that  I  might 
not  go  to  bed  without  blessing  you  and  our  tender 
lamb,  I  have  taken  up  my  pen  to  write — That  the 
Lord  God,  whom  I  serve  would  be  the  guardian  of 
my  wife  and  child  until  He  restore  them  to  the  sight  of 
his  servant.     Amen. 

"  Sabbath,  Nov.  6. — And  now,  my  dearest  Isabella, 
I  am  alone  with  thee  again,  and  can  give  thee  the  news 
wliich  are  dearest  to  thy  heart,  that  the  Lord  hath  not 
deserted  His  unworthy  servant  this  day,  but  hath  been, 
especially  in  the  evening,  present  to  my  soul,  and  given 
me  a  large  door  of  utterance,  I  trust  to  the  edification 
of  His  church,  and  the  comforting  of  His  people. 
Yesterday  I  had  laboured  all  the  mormng  with  a  con- 
stant and  steady  dihgence,  and  about  one  o'clock  was 
in  full  sight  of  land,  with  strength  of  hand  still  left  me 
to  have  finished  this  letter,  and  so  cheated  the  lazy  post, 

when,  as  I  said,  James  P stept  in  ;  in  whom,  to  be 

brief,  I  find  we  shall  have  a  most  easily  accommodated 
inmate,  if  so  he  hkes  to  become,  and  a  very  shrewd. 


300  SUNDAY    SERVICES. 

logical  ooiiipnnioH,  I'lill  of  political  economy  tun]  of 
inatliomatics,  who  cannot  help  stating  every  tiling  as  if 
it  were  a  question  to  be  resolved  by  the  Calculus,  and 
cannot  conceive  of  any  ideas  or  knowledge  which  are 
tu  be  otherwise  come  at  tluui  by  the  methods  of  the 
intellect ;  which  error  I  have  laboured  hard  to  correct 
in  hhn,  and  not,  I  beheve,  without  some  partial  success, 
He  is  one  of  the  coolest,  shrewdest  intellects  I  have 
ever  met  wdth, —  sweetly  disposed,  veiy  gentle,  and 

easily   served My    morning    lesson    this 

day  was  the  2nd  chapter  of  the  Hebrews,  in  which 
is  taught  us  this  great  lesson,  that  we  shall  partake 
with  Christ  in  the  government  of  the  world  to  come, 
which  I  take  to  be  the  same  with  the  '  rest  that 
remaineth,'  mentioned  in  the  4th  chapter,  or  the  per- 
fection of  the  present  dispensation  of  the  Gospel  in 

the  millennial  state Also  there  is  taught  us, 

tliough  but  incidentally,  the  end  of  His  incarnation  to 
destroy  death  and  him  that  hath  the  power  of  death, 
and  dehver  us  from  the  fear  and  bondage  of  death. 
Let  us  enter  mto  faith,  my  dear  wife,  and  be  delivered 

from  the  blow  which  death  hath  broiidfht  us 

Also  He  took  our  flesh  that  we  might  be  assured  of 
our  oneness ;  that  we  might  be  able  to  give  ourselves 
to  the  hope  of  His  glory.  He  did  first  join  himself  to 
the  rcahty  of  our  humility.  My  discourse  was  a  view 
of  the  doctrine  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians,  intro- 
ductory to  discourses  upon  Gal.  ii.  10,  20 This 

introduction,  sum  of  doctrine,  and  threefold  argument 
embraced  the  whole  Epistle,  which  I  had  thus  digested 
into  my  discourse,  with  apphcation  of  each  branch  of 
the  argument  to  the  present  times  and  all  times ;  but 


WANT    OF   FAITH.  301 

I  was  able  to  deliver  only  about  a  half  of  it,  and 
withal  our  service  reached  to  within  a  quarter  of  two. 
My  evenmg  chapter  was  the  21st  of  Genesis,  when  I 
felt  my  mouth  opened  in  a  remarkable  way  to  bear 
testimony  to  the  want  of  faith  in  this  generation,  who 
woidd  embrace  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  the  truth 
and  majesty  of  God,  witliin  the  nutshell  of  theu"  own 
hitellect,  and  beheve  in  God  not  a  hair's-breadth  beyond 
their  intellectual  sight, — wliich,  adopted  by  children  as 
scholars,  would  destroy  the  school  —  by  subjects,  would 
destroy  government;  and,  m  short,  that  these  sacred 
things  all  hang  together,  and  must  sink  or  swun  with 
faith I  was  much  strengthened  in  this  dis- 
course,  and  in  both  my  prayers Mr.  E 

was  there  mornmo;  and  evenincf.  The  Lord  add  that 
youth  to  His  Church!  I  travail  for  him.  Farewell, 
dear  Isabella.  You  cannot  have  so  much  pleasure  in 
reading  these  as  I  have  in  writing  them.  The  blessing 
of  the  Lord  be  with  my  babe — my  tender  babe.  The 
blessing  of  the  Lord  be  with  her  mother — her  tempted 

but  victorious  mother 

'''Monday^  1th  November.  —  Though  wearied,  my 
dearest  Isabella,  with  a  day  of  much  activity,  and 
afterwards  with  the  exposition  of  that  blessed  Psalm, 
this  night's  lesson,  and  now  with  much  discourse  and 
discussion  to  James  P — — ,  whom  I  like  exceedingly,  and 
Wilham  Hamilton,  all  concerning  the  subordination  of 
the  sensual  or  visible,  and  the  intellectual  or  knowable, 
to  the  spiritual  or  redeemable,  (the  first  giving  the 
typography,  the  second  giving  the  method,  and  the  last 
the  substance  of  ah  true  and  excellent  discourse)  I  do 
now  sit  down  with  true  spiritual  dehglit  to  commune 


302  LITTLE    KDWARD'S    MINISTRY. 

with  my  soul's  sweet  mate.  Yen,  liath  not  the  Lord 
made  us  for  one  auotlier,  and  Ity  his  providence  united 
us  to  one  auotlier,  against  many  liery  trials  and  terrible 
delusions  of  Satan  ?  And,  as  you  yourself  observed,  has 
he  not  over  again  wedded  us,  far  more  closely  than  in 
any  joy,  by  our  late  tribulation,  and  the  burial  of  our 
lovely  Edward,  our  holy  lirst-born,  who  gave  up  the 
ghost  in  order  to  make  his  father  and  mother  one, 
and  expiate  the  discords  and  divisions  of  their  souls  ? 
Dear  spu'it,  thou  dearest  spirit  which  doth  tenant 
heaven,  this  is  the  mystery  of  thy  burial  on  the  wed- 
ding-day* of  thy  parents,  to  make  them  for  ever  one. 
Oh,  and  thou  shalt  be  sanctified,  God  blessing,  by  such 
a  concord  and  harmony  of  soul  as  hath  not  often  blessed 
the  earth  since  Eden  was  forfeited  by  sin.  My  wife, 
this  is  not  poetry,  tliis  is  not  imagination  which  I  write ; 
it  is  truth,  rely  upon  it,  it  is  truth  that  lovely  Edward 
hath  been  the  sweet  offering  of  peace  between  us  for 
ever  ;  and  so,  when  we  meet  in  heaven,  he  shall  be  as 
the  priest  who  joined  us, — the  child  of  months  being  one 
hundred  years  old.  Let  my  dear  wife  be  comforted 
by  these  thoughts  of  her  true  love.  I  found  much 
sweet  meditation  upon  my  bed  last  night ;  and  when  I 
awoke  in  the  morning  He  was  with  me,  and  I  had  much 
countenance  of  the  Lord  in  my  secret  devotions ;  and 

when  I  descended  found  Mr.T ,the  preacher,  andMr. 

Bull  met  in  the  breakfast  parlour,  and  Mr.  P seated 

in  the  hbrary.  That  preacher  is  very  clever,  and  in- 
finitively  prohfic  in  his  vein,  and  that  no  contemptible 
one  ;  but  volatile  and  wild  as  the  winds,  yet  musical  in 

*  ThLs  much-lamented  child  was  buiicd  on  the  14th  Octobej', 
the  second  anniversary  of  their  marriage. 


AN   INTELLECTUALIST.  303 

liis  mirth,  and  full  of  heartiness  and  good  will.  But 
he  serveth  joyaunce  of  the  mind,  and  has  not  yoked  him- 
self to  any  workmanship  ;  and  I  have  accordingly  ex- 
horted him  to  be  about  his  Master's  work — to  get  him 
down  into  the  battle,  and  take  his  post.  ]\Ir.  Bull 
brought  me  a  very  sweet  frontispiece,  which  he  has  exe- 
cuted for  Montgomery's  Psalmist^  one  of  Colhns's  series. 
....  As  usual,  his  bashful,  meek  company  was  very 
sweet  to  me. 

"When   they  went.   Miss  N came,  who  can 

beheve  none,  and  would  intellectualise  everything ; 
and  consequently  looks  for  her  rehgious  prosperity  in 
expedients  of  the  intellectual  or  visible  world,  or  in 
means^  as  they  call  them ;  (but,  Isabella,  nothing  is  a 
means  of  grace  in  which  Christ  is  not  seen  to  be  pre- 
sent, wdience  he  is  called  the  Mediator  or  mean- 
creator)  which,  I  told  her,  I  could  no  longer  indulge  her 
in,  by  framing  my  discourse  to  her  subtleties,  but  would 
read  her  the  word  of  God,  to  which,  if  she  framed  her 
mind  by  faith,  then  it  woidd  be  well ;  but  if  not,  she 
must  utterly  perish.  After  which  reading  of  the  103rd 
Psalm,  being  moved  in  my  spirit  with  love  to  her,  I 
pronounced  over  her,  without  rising,  a  prayer  which 
made  her  weep  abundantly — tears,  I  trust,  which  may 
by  God's  grace  reap  joy  hereafter.  She  says  I  have 
demohshed  all  the  glory  of  her  building,  and  she  stands 

as  upon  a  ruin  of  herself.     I  say  unto  you,  Miss  N , 

Christ  can  alone  build  up  and  mould  your  shattered 
mind  to  the  similitude  of  His  own  mind.  You  see,  my 
dear,  what  boldness  the  Lord  is  endowing  me  with, 
....  What  clean,  black  \dllany,  what  unwrinkled 
villany,   there    was  upon  those    countenances   I  met 


304  INFLUENCE   OF   CUSTOM. 

ill  Sairmii  Hill  niid  Field  T>;iiu',  (m  my  wny  to  tlio 
Bible  Society,  \viiere,  among  others,  I  saw  tlie  face  of 
Father  Simon,  lookinir  witli  :ill  its  ca^er  mirest ;  and 
tliere  being  notliing  of  importance  to  detain  me,  I  came 
away  witli  tlie  old  worthy,  and  held  such  discourse  with 
liim  as  the  Strand  heareth  not  oft,  until  we  reached  the 
Temple,  whither  he  entered  to  his  business,  and  I  re- 
tm-ned  to  tlie  city  to  dhie  with  ]\Ir.  Dinwiddle  and  Wm. 
Hamilton ;  and  on  my  way,  having  found  a  receiving- 
house,  I  committed  your  letter  to  the  care  of  the  post. 
But.  ah !  forgot  the  blessing  or  prayer  for  its  safe 
arrival,  so  doth  the  rust  of  custom  corrode  the  frame 
of  oui'  piety.  Life  should  be  a  web  of  piety ;  custom 
makes  it  a  web  of  impiety.  My  dear,  we  must  be  re- 
deemed in  all  things  from  wickedness  to  serve  the 
living  God.  Having  dined  with  my  friends,  I  pro- 
ceeded at  three  to  visit  IVIr.  David,  who  had  yesterday 
a  relapse,  and  is  this  day  very  low.  The  surgeon  ap- 
prehended no  danger  ;  but  I  know  not  how  it  is,  I  fear 
we  are  going  to  lose  him.  His  soul  is  winged  with 
faith  :  let  it  take  its  flight.  He  also  is  my  son  in  the 
Gospel.  I  could  not  see  him,  but  we  Ufted  up  our 
hearts  together  for  his  health  and  salvation.  Then  I  pro- 
ceeded to  Mrs.  T ;  and  now,  my  dear,  learn  a  lesson 

of  spiritual  hfe,  and  let  me  learn  what  I  am  now  to 
teach  thee.  This  sweet  mother,  whom  I  greatly  love, 
said  to  me,  '  All  darkness,  all  darkness ;  what  if  it 
should  have  been  all  self-deception  ?'  That  is,  the  Lord 
was  shaking  His  saint  out  of  the  last  refuge  of  Satan, 
which  he  takes  in  the  righteousness  which  hath  been 
wrought  in  us  by  the  Holy  Spmt.  As  Knox  said  on 
his  death-bed,  '  The  enemy  has  been  trying  me  with 


KEMONSTRAXCE   ABOUT    LENGTH    OF   SERVICES.         305 

representations  of  the  work  wliicli  has  been  done  l^y 
me.'  .... 

"  From  thence  I  proceeded  to  the  Session,  where 
we  proceeded  with  good  harmony  and  miion,  till 
they  came  to  speak  of  time ;  and  then  I  told  them 
they  must  talk  no  more  to  me  concerning  the  ministry 
of  the  word,  for  I  would  submit  to  no  authority  in  that 
matter  but  the  authority  of  the  church,  from  which 
also  I  would  take  liberty  to  appeal  if  it  gainsaid  my 
conscience.  I  am  resolved  that  two  hours  and  a  half 
I  will  have  the  privilege  of.    Write  me  your  judgment 

in  tliis    matter We  had  another  meeting,   at 

seven,  of  the  congregation So  I  returned,  and 

one  o'clock  sounding  in  my  ear  from  Pancras  church, 
I  bid  you  farewell  for  the  night,  and  pray  the 
Lord  to  bless  you,  and  our  httle  treasure,  and  her  who 
hath  joined  herself  to  our  house,  and  hath  a  right  to 
the  share  of  its  blessings.     Farewell,  my  spouse ! 

"  Wednesday,  9th  November. — I  sit  down,  my  dearest, 
after  a  day  of  languishing  and  mom^ning,  rather  more 
cheerful  and  refreshed  than  I  have  deserved  to  be ;  for, 
whether  from  defective  sleep  or  over-fatigue  yesterday, 
I  have  been  very  dead  and  Hfeless  all  day  long,  until  tlie 
evening  roused  me  to  some  spiritual  exercises.  Satan 
could  not  have  had  this  occasion  against  me,  but  for 
my  own  most  blameworthy  conduct  m  preferring  man 
before  God  in  the  services  of  the  morning.   For,  having 

promised  to  take  James  P down  to  Bedford  Square 

to  breakfast,  I  hurried  over  both  my  private  and 
family  worship.  Now  this  is  such  infinite  irreverence 
done  unto  the  majesty  of  heaven,  that  I  know  not  how 
any  stronger  proof  of  want  of  faith  could  be  found. 

VOL.  L  X 


3(G  THE    rEACE-OFFERING. 

.  .  .  Wlion  wc  rcturiiod  from  ^Ir.  ]\[ 's,  I  cndcavoiirccl 

to  seek  the  Lord  in  my  closet,  but  found  Ilim  not.  He 
liid  His  countenance,  and  my  lieart  was  left  to  the  bitter- 
ness of  being  alone.  I  took  to  the  ixuiding  of  the  3rd 
chapter  of  Hebrews,  in  the  original,witli  a  view  to  pasture 
for  my  people  ;  and  afterwards  to  the  22nd  of  Genesis, 
with  the  same  end  in  view,  of  wliieli  I  have  been  able 
to  make  out  eight  verses.  I  wish  to  read  the  Sabbath 
lessons,  at  least,  in  the  Hebrew,  and  to  make  both  lessons 
a  dihgent  study  through  the  week,w^ith  Pool's  'Synopsis' 
before  me  ;  and  I  have  besought  the  Lord,  as  I  do  now 
again  beseech  Him,  that  I  may  continue  in  this  right- 
eous and  dutiful  custom.  In  the  Hebrew,  it  would  per- 
haps be  an  entertainment  to  your  heart  to  accompany 
me,  that  we  may  not  be  divided  in  this  study  when  we 
meet  again.  But  I  forget  that  you  have  the  dear  babe 
to  watch  over ;  for  whom,  my  dear,  let  our  souls  be  ex- 
ercised rather  than  for  the  dead.  Oh,  let  us  wrestle 
with  God  for  her  soul,  that  she  may  not  be  caught 
away  from  us  at  unawares.  I  wish  she  were  here,  that  I 
might  in  my  anus  present  her  to  the  Lord  every  morning 
and  evening.  Your  letter  gave  me  great  dehglit,  and 
came  to  cheer  me  in  my  spiritual  mourning.  The  Lord 
continue  to  support  your  soul,  and  to  be  your  portion  ! 
01),  how  blessed  has  been  thy  deatli,  my  beloved,  to 
thy  parents'  souls !  thou  first-fruits  of  our  union,  and 
peace-offering  of  our  family,  dearly-beloved  child,  who 
never  frowned  on  any  one,  and  never  fretted,  l)ut 
moaned  the  approach  of  that  enemy  which  was  to 
bereave  us  of  thee  !  .  .  .  . 

"I  sought  to  begin  the  discourse  on  Galatians  ii.  19, 
whose  object  it  will  be  to  show  that  an  outward  law 


PHILANTHROPY.  307 

is  always  a  sign  of  bondage,  and  that  the  inward 
wilhngness  is  hberty,  which  a  Divine  indwpUing  spirit 
can  alone  beget  and  maintain  within  us.  Pray  that 
I  may  be  enabled  to  handle  this  mighty  theme 
to  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  promotion  of  the 
Eedeemer's  kingdom.  For  it  calls  upon  all  that  is  wdthin 
me,  and  I  shall  have   this  and  the  following  w^eek  to 

give  to   it Too  many  cares  of    philanthropy, 

dear,  are  as  seductive  as  any  other  cares  ;  it  is  di\anity 
w^hich  alone  can  sustain  philanthropy.  But  a  divine  is 
become  hke  a  plioenix.  We  know  one,  but  he  is  near  in 
ashes,  and  who  is  to  arise  in  his  stead,  I  know  not.  .  .  , 

After  leaving  the  study,]Mr.  P and  I  walked  together. 

....  At  six,  I  had  the  visit  of  another  child  of  my 
ministry.  Miss  Miller,  in  whom  I  found  a  very  humble 
and  sweet  spirit,  thoroughly,  as  I  trust,  convinced  of 
sin,  and  purged  of  her  sin.  After  conversing  and  pray- 
ing with  her,  I  w^ent  out  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hall,  at 
their  own  request,  to  open  the  subject  of  the  communion 
to  their  souls,  when  I  set  it  forth  by  the  parable  of  the 
prodigal  son.  That  at  baptism  w^e  had  obtained  our 
freedom  in  our  Father's  house,  who  ever  since  had 
divided  to  us  our  portion  of  gifts,  graces,  and  oppor- 
tunities, which  we  had  prodigally  squandered ;  but, 
taking  pity  on  us,  He  doth  keep  open  table  in  His  house, 
in  order  to  welcome  every  one  who  hath  a  longing  to 
return.  He  breaketh  bread  and  poureth  out  wine, 
the  body  and  blood  of  His  Son's  sacrifice,  for  every  one 
who  will  come,  as  the  prodigal  came,  heartily  repenting, 
and  humbly  confessing  his  sin.  This,  therefore,  is  what 
I  desire  —  the  sense  of  sin,  and  the  faith  that  it  is  to  be 
forgiven  only  through  the  blood  of  Christ.     For  the 

X  2 


308  Tin:    MYSTKRY    OF    TlIK    TUIXITY. 

onliLrliteniiiL!:  o\'  llio  iniiid.  lor  llic  (•oiivinciiiL;'  of  the 
licart,  and  tlic  couvertiiig  of  the  wliole  soul,  it  is  the 
work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  wlio  is  the  gift  of  Christ  to 
Ilis  weak  but  faithful  disciples.  Oli,  dearest,  how 
]M'orital)le  is  tliat  mystery  of  the  Trinity  to  my  soul ! 
The  husband  and  wife  heard  me  witli  tears.  I  trust 
these  are  tokens  for  good.  The  Lord  enable  them  to 
retain  upon  their  souls  those  feelings  towards  Him 
whicli  they  this  night  expressed  to  me.  By  these 
exercises  my  spirit  was  restored.  The  Lord  hath  re- 
stored my  soul,  and  I  was  able  to  comfort  the  family 
with   the  42nd  Psalm,  and  I  trust  to  encourage  my 

own   spirit Now,    the    blessing  of   the    Lord 

rest  upon  my  wife,  and  child,  and  servant  this  night, 
who  have  not  separated,  I  know,  witliout  commending 
me  to  the  Lord  !  Thus  do  w^e  unite  our  interests  on 
high,    and  lay  in  our  proofs  and  pledges  of  mutual 

love  with  our  heavenly  Father Farewell ! 

"  Thursday,  ^()th  November,  1825. — I  pray  the  Lord 
so  to  quicken  my  love  to  my  dear  wife,  and  so  to  move 
my  soul  with  the  spirit  of  truth  and  wisdom,  as  that  I 
shall  much  comfort  and  edify  her  by  the  words  which 
I  am  about  to  -write.  Yesterday  I  so  wore  myself  out 
witli  the  various  duties  I  had  to  discharge,  that  I  was 
hardly  able  to  do  the  ofTices  of  family  worship,  and,  in 
utter  inability,  forewent  my  sweet  interview  of  faith 
with  my  Isabella  ;  no,  not  of  faith,  but  of  these  visible 
emblems  of  faith,  for  the  interview  of  the  spirit  I  truly 

had  with  you I  have  fulfilled  your  commission 

to  Mrs.  Hall,  who  received  your  gift  with  much  thank- 
fulness. Our  maid  is  now  gone,  and  we  are  a  very 
happy  and,  I  trust,  contented  household.     Li  tlie  churcli 


MISSIONAKIES.  309 

last  night  I  opened  the  real  contents  of  the  new  covenant 
(Hebrews  viii.  10,  to  the  end)  to  the  young  communi- 
cants, who  are  about  to  enter  by  the  proper  form  to  the 
renewal  of  it.  For  you  will  observe,  dearest,  that 
there  was  a  renewal  of  the  covenant  when  the  children 
of  Israel  entered  into  the  land  of  promise,  as  there  is  to 
us  :  first,  the  granting  it  at  baptism  to  the  faith  of  our 
parents ;  and  again,  the  renewal  of  it  over  the  sacrifice  of 
our  own  faith.  Now  these  contracts  are,  1st,  the  law 
within,  and  no  longer  without,  that  is,  hberty  of  soul  to 
obey  God,  instead  of  restraint  of  fear  ;  2nd,  the  ruUng 
of  God  over  us,  and  our  subjection  to  Him  in  all  wiUing- 
ness ;  3rd,  the  teaching  of  His  Spiiit  in  all  His  revelations ; 
4th,  the  absolution  of  all  our  sinfulness  through  Christ's 
atonement.  The  first  being  the  conversion  of  our  will ; 
the  second,  the  maintenance  of  our  weakness ;  the 
third,  the  enlightening  of  our  knowledge  ;  the  fourth, 
the  purging  of  our  conscience  from  all  fear.  What  an 
inheritance,  my  dear  wife,  is  this  to  which  you,  and  I, 
and  all  behevers  are  admitted !  Let  us  enter  it,  let  us 
enter  mto  it.  Wliy  can  we  not  enter  into  the  willing- 
ness, the  confirmation,  the  enhglitening,  the  peace  of  it  ? 
We  camiot  enter  in  by  reason  of  unbelief.  Now  en- 
coiu-age  one  another,  I  pray  you,  for  the  time  is  short. 
"This  morning  we  mustered  a  goodly  company,  though 
it  was  the  stormiest  morning  almost  I  remember .;  three 
missionaries  from  the  Mission  House,  our  broad-faced 
Wlirtemberg  friend,  so  dear  to  us  all,  and  a  countrj^nan, 
*  and  an  East  Indian,  half-caste,  preparing  for  his  return 
to  preach  to  the  Hindoos.  They  tell  me  there  are  at 
present  two  of  their  countrymen  at  St.  Petersburgh 
fulfiUing  to  the  letter  our  Lord's  instructions  to  his  dis- 


310  READINGS    IN    HKnilEW. 

ciples.  I  liavo  a  very  strong  purpose  of  sending  over 
to  nil  tlu'  ^lission  Houses  copies  of  my  Orations  for 
the  sake  of  tlie  youtli ;  ami  to  this  cfTect  of  ordering 
Ihunilton  to  send  me  all  that  are  not  sold,  and  desiring 
liim  to  transmit  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  which  there 
has  been  to  the  widow  of  Smith,  Tell  me  Avhat  you 
thhik  of  this.  The  German  missionaries  at  Karass  soon 
found  out  the  unproductiveness  of  Scottish  prudence 
when  apphed  to  propagate  the  Gospel,  and  are  fast 
recurring  to  the  primitive  method  on  the  confines  of 
Persia,  where  they  at  present  labour.  They  speak  of  a 
great  re^dval  in  the  Prussian  kingdom  ;  more  than  a 
hundred  young  preachers  have  gone  forth  from  the  uni- 
versities to  preach  the  Gospel.  The  Lord  prosper  his 
work !  To-morrow  a  luunber  of  young  missionaries  are 
to  receive  their  instructions  at  a  pubhc  meeting  in 
Freemason's  Hall,  and  they  are  to  set  out  for  Malta 
some  time  tliis  month.  The  Lord  is  their  helper.  I 
took  occasion,  from  the  51st  Psahn,  to  speak  to 
them  of  the  qualifications  there  referred  to.  .  .  .  After 
their  departure,  1  addi'esscd  myself  to  my  sweet  studies 
of  reading  the  lessons  of  the  day,  and  meditating  the 
lessons  of  Sabbath  in  the  origuial  tongues.  .  .  .  After- 
wards I  betook  myself  to  my  lecture  on  Christ's  at- 
tendants and  sustenance  in  his  ministry,  Luke  viii.  2,  3, 
wdiich  is  a  subject  of  great  importance  and  fiaiitfulness, 
if  the  Lord  see  it  good  to  open  it  to  me  by  His  Spirit, 
which  I  do  now  earnestly  pray.  James  and  I, 
after  dinner  (we  have  now  got  the  wine-cellar  open, 
and  I  have  ordered  Hall  a  bottle  of  Madeira  tostrengtlien 
him),  went  dow^n  to  Bedford  Square,  where  I  had  a 
good  deal   of  profitable  conversation  Avith    our  dear 


LETTERS   OF   INTRODUCTION.  311 

friends.  But  before  I  went  out  I  received  a  parcel,  .  . 
in  which  was  a  fine  lace  cap  and  wrought  robe  for 
our  dear  departed  boy;  ....  our  darhng  hath  now 
a  more  precious  robe  than  can  be  wrought  by  the 
daughters  of  a  duke  ;  yet  it  is  a  sweet  and  honourable 
token  of  their  love.     I  have  written  to  tell  them  whither 

the  object  of  their  love  is  gone Our  httle  boy ! 

thou  art  incorporated  with  my  memory  dearly,  with 
my  hope  thou  art  incorporated  still  more  dearly.  We 
will  come,  when  our  Lord  doth  call,  to  thee  and  to  the 
general  assembly  of  the  first-born.  Oh,  Isabella,  I 
exhort  thee  to  be  dihgent  in  thy  prayers  for  thee  and 
me  ! 

'"''Friday^  Wth  November. — I  have  just  dismissed  Mrs. 
Hall,  my  dear  Isabella,  to  set  into  the  study  to-morrow 
morning  a  slice  of  bread  and  glass  of  water,  purposing 
to  keep  myself  alone  for  meditation,  and  I  pray  the 
Lord  that  he  would  give  us  both  a  heart  fuU  of  divine 

thoughts  and  holy  purposes Mr.   Hamilton  is 

a  great  comfort  to  me  ;  I  may  say  of  him,  as  Paul  says 
of  Mark,  that  he  is  helpful  to  me  for  the  ministry, 
literally  delivering  me  of  all  secular  cares.  But  I  must 
proceed  in  order.     When   we  were  at   oiu*  morning 

worship,  Mr.  0 shpped  in,  with  his  slow  and  canny 

foot,  in  order  to  seek  introductions  to  Scotland,  which  I 
would  not  give  ;  for  though  I  am  enough  satisfied  with 
him  for  the  rule  of  charity,  I  have  no  sufficient  evidence 
upon  which  to  commend  him  to  another.  Indeed  I  would 
be  suspicious  of  his  favour-seeking  and  power-hunting, 
if  I  were  not  satisfied  it  is  universal,  and  that  he  may 
have  caught  it  by  infection,  not  generated  it  in  liis  own 
constitution ;  but,  ah,  it  is  a  weakening  disease,  however 


812  THE   CIIUUCII    AS   A    HOUSE. 

cnuLilit  !  Whi'ii  1  li:ul  dismissed,  I  read  \hv  ord  cliu])- 
ter  n{'  Jnliii  in  tlie  original,  and  studied  tlie  latter  half 
of  the  3rd  chapter  of  the  Hebrews  with  a  diligent 
reference  to  tlie  parallel  scriptures ;  and  in  studying  that 
chapter  it  will  lielp  you  to  know  that '  even  as  Moses  in 
all  his  liousc  '  is  not  to  he  understood  J/oscs'  l)ut 
6't>(iV  house,  tlic  house  of  '  llini  who  appointed  him,' 
as  you  wall  see  by  referring  to  the  passage  in  Numbers, 
of  wjiich  it  is  tlic  quotation  ;  the  whole  argument  being 
to  set  Moses  fortli,  not  as  having  a  house  of  liis  own, 
but  as  a  servant  in  the  house  wliicli  Christ  had  ordered, 
and  to  which,  in  due  time,  He  came  as  the  heir  to  claim 
and  inlierit  His  own.  Tliat  idea  of  the  Church,  under 
the  simihtude  of  a  house,  is  constant  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, derived,  I  take  it,  from  the  temple,  Avhich  Wiis  a 
type  of  the  Clmrch  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  '  Li  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions,'  means  the  Church  in 
Avliich  he  prepared  a  place  for  his  apostles,  by  sending 
to  them  His  Holy  Spirit ;  so  that  thenceforth  they  be- 
came its  foundation  stones.  '  We  are  made  partakers 
wdth  Christ  if  w^e  ]iold  fast  the  beginning  of  our  confi- 
dence steadfast  imto  the  end,'  refers  to  Christ's  cominLr 
in  tlie  end  to  occupy  His  house,  wdien  all  His  people 
shall  share  with  Him  in  His  kingdom  ;  which  He  him- 
self sets  fortli  liy  tlie  same  similitude  of  a  householder 
who  went  into  a  far  countr}',  and  in  the  meantime  gave 
his  servants  their  several  charges.  We  are  these  ser- 
vants ;  let  us  be  found  iiiithfnl,  and  when  He  comes  we 
shall  be  made  partakers  or  sharers  with  Him.  After 
these  studies  in  divinity,  I  relieved  my  mind  by  reading 
a  portion  of  the  Convocation  book  which  treated  of  our 
Lord's  respect  to  tliose  who  sat  in  Moses'  seat,  present- 


SIMPLE    AND    UNPROVIDED    FAITH.  313 

ing  this  feature  of  His  obedience  in  very  meek  and  true 
colours.  Oil,  how  I  have  offended  herein,  making  my- 
self a  judge  instead  of  a  minister  of  the  Church !  and 
yet  I  know  not  how  otherwise  to  proceed  when  all 
things  are  manifestly  so  out  of  square.  I  do  pray 
earnestly  that  the  Lord  would  keep  me  manly  in  the 
regulation  of  the  censorious  part  of  my  spirit.  For  I 
have  this  day,  and  immediately  after  the  perusal  of  the 
above,  written  a  lecture  upon  the  simple  and  unpro- 
vided faith  in  which  our  Lord  made  His  rounds  of  the 
ministry ;  arguing  thence  the  spirit  in  which  His 
ministers  should  stand  affected  towards  the  provisions 
of  this  life,  and  should  receive  them  ;  wherein  I  have 
not  scrupled  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God  ;  but 
I  know  not  whether  in  the  right  spirit. 

This  also  has  occupied  me  since  dinner  up  to  the  time 
of  evening  prayer,  when  the  Lord  opened  my  mouth  to 
speak  of  His  love  to  our  souls,  so  that  I  could  see  the 
tears  gather  in  the  eyes  of  my  little  company.  I  do 
hope  there  is  a  work  of  Divine  grace  proceeding  in 

these  servants'  hearts Oh,  Isabella,  I   have  a 

strong  persuasion  of  the  power  of  a  holy  walk  and  con- 
versation, in  which,  if  we  continue,  we  shall  save  not 
only  our  own  souls  but  the  souls  of  those  that  hear  us ; 
even  now  there  is  a  strong  conviction  of  that  truth 
brought  home  to  my  spirit.  For  yourself,  dear,  when 
you  are  in  darkness  and  distress,  then  do  not  fret,  but 
clothe  your  spirit  in  sackcloth,  and  sit  down  and  take 
counsel  with  your  soul  before  the  Lord,  and  study  all 
its  deformity,  and  search  into  the  hidden  recesses  of  its 
unbelief.  It  is  a  rich  lesson  for  humility  ;  it  is  a  season 
of  sowing  seed  in  tears.      The  Lord  permitteth  such 


314  FUNERAL   SERVICE. 

temptations  that  wo  may  tlic  more  tlioroiiglily  see  our 
depravity;  aiul  in  tlie  midst  ol'  our  seasons  of  brightness 
tliev  conu'  like  clouds  (liri>ateiiinL!;  a  delui^e,  which  the 
rainbow  covenant  averts  from  the  soul  of  God's  cliosen 

ones My  dearest,  we  must  soon  go  to  our  rest, 

and  our  sweet  infant  also  ;  and  perliaps  the  Lord  may 
not  see  us  worthy  to  leave  any  seed  on  the  earth.  His 
will  be  done.  I  pray  only  to  be  conformed  to  His  will. 
Now  rest  in  peace,  my  other  part,  and  thou,  sweet  link 
of  being;  betwixt  us !  The  Lord  make  our  souls  one  ! 
And  may  He  bless  with  the  inheritance  of  our  domestic 
blessings,  spiritual  and  temporal,  om^  faitlifid  servant, 
who  has  joined  herself  to  our  house.  Fare  you  all  well. 
The  Lord  compose  your  souls  to  sweet  and  quiet  sleep. 
'■^Saturday,  12th  November. —  ...  I  am  left  to  my 
sweet  occupation  of  making  my  dear  Isabella  a  sharer 
of  the  actions  of  my  life  and  the  secrets  of  my  heart ; 
would  that  they  were  more  valuable  for  thy  sake,  my 
dearest  love  !  This  day  w^as  devoted  to  pious  offices  con- 
nected with  the  memory  of  our  dear  boy,  that  it  might 
be  made  profitable  to  the  living.  But  I  found  not  the 
satisfaction  which  I  expected.  I  began  by  reading  the 
15tli  chapter  of  1  Corinthians  in  the  original,  hoping 
to  be  somewhat  raised  in  my  thouglits  ;  but  whether 
I  fell  away  into  the  criticism  and  scholia',  from  the 
old  Greek  fathers,  which  are  in  my  noble  Greek  Testa- 
ment, I  know  not ;  l)ut  I  think  I  missed  the  edification 
of  the  S[)int ;  Satan  is  never  absent  from  us  ;  he  can 
slay  as  effectually  from  the  letter  of  God's  word,  as  from 
the  lightest  and  vainest  pleasures  of  the  world.  After 
■which  I  studied  the  funeral  service  of  the  Church,  in 
wliicli    office   I  found  some  movements  of  the  spirit 


THE  TWELFTH  DAY  OF  THE  MOXTH.       315 

which  I  sought.  Then  I  girt  myself  to  my  duties,  and 
wrote ;  first,  a  letter  to  my  father's  house,  exhorting 
them  agamst  formahty,  and  testif3dng  to  them  the  nature 
of  a  spiritual  conversation;  then  I  wrote  to  M ,  mani- 
festing, according  to  my  abihty,  the  evils  of  self-com- 
munion and  self-will,  and  the  blessings  of  communion 
with  the  Father  and  with  His  Son  Jesus  Christ.  I  know 
not  how  it  may  be  felt  by  her,  but  if  she  should  speak 
of  it,  assure  her  it  was  done  faithfuUy  and  in  love.  .  .  . 
Thereafter  I  addressed  myself  to  some  reading  in  my 

Convocation  book  and  Eoman  liistory Since  tea, 

I  have  been  busy  preparing  my  discourses,  and  I  do 
pray  that  He  would  bless  them.  I  had  much  hberty  in 
exliorting  my  little  evening  congregation  and  opening 
to  them  the  comfortable  doctrine  of  the  Divine  Provi- 
dence, and  in  praying  for  our  souls,  and  the  souls  of  all 
men  ;  and  now,  dearest,  twelve  o'clock  hath  rung  in  my 
ears,  and  having  exhorted  the  household  to  timeous 
hours  on  the  Sabbath  morning,  I  must  not  be  slack  to 
give  the  example  ;  and  that  I  may  leave  room  for  to- 
morrow's work,  which  I  trust  will  be  holy  and  blessed, 
I  part  from  you  witli  few  words,  praying  the  Lord  to 
have  you  all  in  His  holy  keeping.  But  let  me  not  forget 
that  this  day,  which  I  have  improved  to  others,  I  ought 
of  all  to  improve  the  most  carefully  to  Edward's  mother. 
Every  twelfth  day  of  the  month,  my  loving  and  be- 
loved wife,  let  it  be  your  first  thought  that  your  babe 
is  mortal,  and  that  the  father  of  your  babe  is  mortal, 
and  that  you  yourself  are  mortal !  and  every  twelfth 
day  of  the  montli,  my  loving  and  beloved  wife,  let  it  be 
your  last  thouglit  tliat  yoiu:  babe  is  mortal,  and  that 
the  father  of  your  babe  is  mortal,  and  that  you  yourself 


310  SUNDAY    MOUNlN(i. 

arc  morUil.  P<>  \]\\<  lliat  you  uuiy  swmIIow  \i\)  our 
mortalitv  in  \\\v  i,'lori«)Us  faith  ol"  our  iimnortalitv  in 
the  lioiivons.  Fnivwoll.  uiy  uilr.  Dwt'll  for  cvcr^vitll 
tlie  Lord,  my  sifter  saint  in  Christ  ;  ilwcll  for  ever  witli 
tlie  Lord,  my  tender  babe,  and  be  Ijlessed  of  Ilim,  as  lie 
was  wont  to  bless  sucli  as  tliec.  I  pray  tlie  Lord  to  bless 
all  with  whom  you  dwell,  thou  daughter  of  Abrnhnm 
and  heir  of  the  promise! 

'■'Sablmth,,  IStk  November.  —  My  dear  Isabella,  I  have 
fmished  the  labours  of  another  Sabl)ath,  with  much  of 
the  presence  of  the  Lord  in  the  former  part  of  the 
day,  and  not  so  much  in  the  eveninii;.  There  must 
have  been  5ome  want  of  faith  either  in  the  writini::  <>i' 
delivery  of  my  discoui'se,  and  I  have  besought  tlie  Lord 
that  he  would  presei've  me  during  this  week  in  a  spiri- 
tual frame  of  mind,  and  move  within  my  soul  right 
thoughts  and  feelings  for  the  salvation  of  my  people ; 
and  I  desire  that  you  would  ever  on  a  Sabbath  morning 
pray  the  Lord  to  preserve  my  soul  in  a  spirit  of  faith 
and  love  all  the  day,  and  in  the  evening  pray  that  He 
would  direct  my  mind  to  such  subjects  of  meditation 

and  methods  of  handling  them  as  He  will  bless 

I  have  been  much  exercised  this  last  week  with  the 
po&sibility  of  some  trial  coming  to  me  from  the  resolute 
stand  which  I  have  taken,  and  ■will  maintain,  upon  the 
subject  of  the  liberty  of  my  ministr^^  For  the  spirit 
of  authority  and  rule  in  the  church  begins  to  grow 
upon  me,  and  I  fear  much  there  is  not  enough  of  the 
spirit  of  obedience  in  our  city  churches  to  bear  it.  But 
I  am  resolved,  according  as  I  am  taught  the  duty  of  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel,  to  discharge  it,  and  consider 
eveiything   that  may  befall  as  the  will  of  the  Lord. 


PRESENTIMENTS.  317 

I  was  telling  this  to  Mr.  Dinwiddie  this  morning,  for  I 
find,  good  men,  they  have  all  their  little  schemes,  after 
which  they  would  hke  to  see  me  play  my  part,  instead 
of  looking  to  me,  as  one  under  Christ's  authority,  to 
watch  over  the  church,  and  to  be  honoured  of  the 
church.  The  church  was  crowded  both  morning  and 
evening ;  but  I  am  prepared,  if  the  Lord  should  see  it 
meet  to  try  me  here  also,  and  I  sometimes  thmk  I  shall 
be  tried  here  at  some  time  or  other.  Now,  my  notion 
is,  that  the  Lord  is  very  gracious  to  me  at  present,  per- 
mitting me  to  be  strengthened  ;  that  then  Satan  will 
have  power  against  me  for  a  season  by  every  form  of 
trial — and,  alas !  there  are  too  many  open  rivets  in  my 
armour; — but  that  in  the  end  the  Lord,  if  I  abide 

faithful,  will  increase  me  with  much  honour I 

thank  God  that  I  am  very  strong ;  and  even  now  (ten 
o'clock)  sleep  begins  to  loose  the  curtains  of  my  con- 
ception, and  twihght  is  setthng  in  my  mind 

And  now,  dearest,  I  commend  you  and  our  httle  one 
unto  the  Lord,  and  pray  that  the  Lord  may  bless  you 
and  preserve  you  for  a  blessing  to  these  eyes. 

'-'Monday^  lUh  November. — My  dear  wife,  this  has 
been  a  day  sweetly  varied  with  the  good  mercies  of 
God,  who  in  various  ways  hath  used  His  servant  to 
minister  unto  the  comfort  of  His  people,  which  I  shall 
now  set  forth  to  you  in  order,  being  full  of  gladness 
and  thankfulness.  In  the  morning  we  had  the  Psalm 
of  our  Lord's  humihations  (Ixix.),  and  the  chapter  of 
Job's  most  pathetic  lamentation  and  divine  confidence 
in  his  Eedeemer  (xix.),  upon  which  I  have  been  able  to 
reflect  more  during  the  day  by  what  I  have  seen,  than 
I  was  able  to  reflect  unto  my  family,  though  I  sought 


318  TUUK    nROTHKHlIOOI). 

for  worils  of  oxliorlatii^ii.     W*-  av*  re  hosidcs  our  cnvn, 

^Ir.  J .   :i   tViriid    iulroducc'd    by  IVars ;  liev.  IVlr. 

Cox,  of  tlic  Clunrli   of  Eni:liind,  a    oaliii,  pious,  and 
cluiritablo  man,  "wlioni  I  met   at    Ijiigliton  ;  and  Sotto- 
mayor,  tlic  soldier.     1  had  lo  ^vitllstand  tlie  radicali^<m 
and  ^•illage-to^vll  conceit  of  the  first,  ^vllo  cut  all  ques- 
tions with  a  keen  blade  of  self-conceit,  but  neither  of 
■\vit  nor  understanding,  in  ^vhiell  T  was  greatly  assisted 
by  the  wisdom  of  ]\Ir.  Cox,  who,  liaving  travelled,  was 
able   to  speak  Avith  authority  ;  and   he   delighted  me 
with  one  declaration,  that  in  the  Catholic  churches  of 
Italy  he  had  never  heard  a  sermon  (though  he  had 
lieard  many)  which  breathed  of  saints'  days  and  other 
mummeries,  but  always  of  sohd  theology,  deep  piety, 
and  much  unction,  and  that  he  had  met  with  many 
whom   he  believed  most  spiritual.     My  dear,  I  have 
often  more  concern  about  the  issue  of  the  intellectual 
forais  of  our  own  Church,  which  tend  to  practical  and 
theoretical  infidehtv,  than  of  the  sensual  forms  of  the 
Itomish  Church,  wliich  do  tend  to  superstition,  and  still 
preserve  a  faith,  though  it  be  of  the  sense.     Any^vay, 
I  give  God  praise  that  eitlier  w-ith  us  or  with  them  He 
preserveth  a  seed.     Wlien  they  departed,  poor  Sarah 
Evans  came  to  me,  troubled  in  her  conscience,  poor 
girl,  that  she  had  not  confessed  to  me  all  her  sins  ;  and 
she  was  about  to  open  all  her  history  in  time  past,  when 
I  interrupted  her,  and  would  not  allow  her  to  proceed. 
Poor   thing !  1  pity  much  her  w^andering  mind,  still 
timorous  and  startled  like  one  that  had  been  lost,  and 
not  sure  of  havmg  found  the  way.     I  tliink  I  must 
consult  the  elders  about  her.     It  is  a  hard  case  ;  she  is 
truly  spiritual,  but  has  a  certain  instabihty  and  flutter 


THE    PRODIGAL   WIDOW.  319 

in  her  judgment.  .  .  .  After  her  came  a  poor  woman, 

the  sister  of  ]\fc  M'W (formerly  of  Diimfriesshu-e), 

who  has  been  a  prodigal  for  the  last  twenty-one  years 
in  a  far  distant  land  of  the  West  Indies,  having  followed 
into  dissipation  a  dissipated  husband,  buried  ten  chil- 
dren, left  one,  and  now  returned  in  formd  pauperis, 
—  left  upon  the  shore  by  the  good  Samaritan,  who 
provided  her  in  a  fortnight's  lodging,  expecting  that  in 
that  time  her  brother,  to  whom  he  wrote,  would  be 
eao;er  to  reUeve  her.  But  her  brother  seems  more 
ashamed  of  her  than  sorry  for  her,  and  dreads  her 
retiu-n  to  Scotland,  and  had  written  a  letter,  entreating 
me  to  get  her  into  an  hospital,  which  I  found  on  my 
arrival.  I  liked  its  spirit  ill,  even  before  I  had  seen 
her,  and  wrote  that  I  would  not  recommend  to  any 
hospital  the  sister  of  a  Scotch  clergyman  in  good  cir- 
cumstances, except  she  should  be  wholly  abandoned. 
Still  he  writes  me,  inchning  to  the  finding  an  asylum 
for  her  in  London,  and  wishing  me  to  see  her,  wliich 
this  day  I  appointed  by  letter,  for  she  hves  all  the  way 
at  Shadwell,  and  is  disabled  of  her  side  by  a  palsy. 
And  she  came, — a  poor  picture  of  the  prodigal,  lium- 
bled  and  penitent,  and  longing  for  her  brother's  bosom 
as  ever  the  prodigal  did  for  his  father's.  '  I  should 
never  be  off  my  knees,  I  think,  if  I  could  but  see  John, 
and  partake  of  his  prayers  and  counsels  ;  the  Lord 
would  bring  peace  to  my  soul.'  And  she  wept ;  and 
she  very  sorely  wept  when  I  read  her  parts  of  her 
brother's  letter,  but  confessed  to  her  past  siafLilness;  and 
before  she  went  away  her  last  words  were,  with  many 
tears,  '  And  tell  him  I  am  an  altered  woman.'  .... 
So  I  sat  down  and  wrote  for  the  widow,  and  rebuked 


320  rNDIKKcTKI)    LKTTKKS. 

mv  brother  sli;n|)lv.  ;iiul  l<>li]  liiiii  IkmmiuIiI  loniMkclor 
Irt  a  i\K)iii  arouiul  liis  lircsidc.  Wliat  may  ho  the 
issue  I  kiu)\v  not;  hut  iiiy  part,  God  lielping  me,  is  to 

lielj)  tlie  [)rodigal  wiilow 

"Tlien  I  went  fortli  to  visit  Mrs.  V ,  as  I  set 

down  in  my  K'tte-r;  hut  hv  tliankful  tliat  letter  went 
not  to  the  dead  ollu-e,  for  <j;ivinL!:  n  udance  to  the 
object  of  my  affections,  whose  name  I  tliought 
fairly  inscribed,  I  found  that  it  was  fairly  blank, 
and   had  to  get  pen  and  ink  at  tlie  receiving-house. 

James   V (who    is    very   great    in    the    highest 

mathematics,  and  reads  La  Place's  Calculus  of  Gene- 
rating Functions,  which  that  greatest  of  calcidators 
has  applied  to  probabihties),  immediately  told  me 
that  La  Place  observed,  to  show  how  constant  causes 
are,  that  the  number  of  such  undirected  letters  put 
into  the  Paris  post-ofhce  was  year  by  year,  as  nearly 

as  possible,  the  same.    Wlien  I  went  up  to  Mr.  P 's 

shop  I  found  his  sister  standing  in  it,  and  she  took  me 
up  to  her  mother's  sick-room,  saying  httle  or  nothing 
by  the  way.  And  her  mother  took  me  by  the  hand, 
and  said,  '  The  Lord  liath  sent  you  this  day,  for  my 
Andrew  is  cast  into  prison.'  ....  Andrew,  you  must 
know,  is  iDetrothed  to  a  young  lady  Avhom  he  has  been 
the  instrument  of  converting  to  the  Lord,  and  when  he 

left  S 's,  being  unresolved  what  to  do  with  liis  httle 

capital,  which  could  not  meet  his  present  business,  his 
betrothed's  uncle  said,  '  Get  your  bills  discounted,  and 
you  shall  not  want  for  money ;'  for  they  had  always 
said  that  he  was  to  have  £500  on  the  wedding  day, 
and  £oOO  aftenvards.  To  this  the  servant  of  the  Lord 
tnx'stiug,  sunk  liis  money  in  his  lease,  tmsting  to  have 


A   LONDON   SPONGING    HOUSE.  321 

his  floating  bills  met  by  his  friend,  who,  growing  cool 
because  Andrew  did -not  instantly  succeed,  withdraws 
his  promises,  and  leaves  our  friend  in  deep  waters  ;  and 
deals  with  his  niece  to  send  poor  Andrew  all  his  letters, 
and  to  request  hers  in  return.  This  took  place  on 
Friday,  and  this  day,  at  breakfast,  two  of  the  officers 
of  justice,  at  the  instance  of  a  creditor,  came,  and  he 
went  with  them.  Thus  was  his  mother  left,  and  thus 
I  found  her  all  but  overcome.  I  comforted  her  as  I 
could,  and  prayed  with  her  as  I  coidd,  and  saw  that 
something  was  to  be  done  as  well  as  said.  So  commg 
down,  I  sat  down  to  write  in  the  back  shop,  while  his 
sister  sought  some  clue  to  the  creditor's  address,  that  I 

might  find  the  prison So  I  proceeded  by  Gary 

Street,  and,  after  dihgent  search,  found  Andrew  in  a 
house  of  which  the  door  is  kept  always  locked,  seated 
with   three   men   who  seemed  doleful   enough  —  one 
resting  his  forehead  on  liis  hands,  another  reclining  on 
a  sofa,  and  the  third  contemplating,  half  miserably, 
half  sottishly,  a  pint  of  porter.     Andrew  was  close  by 
the  chimney  corner.     We  communed  together,  and  he 
was  as  calm  and  cheerful  as  Joseph,  having  Joseph's 
trust ;  and  of  a  truth,  yesterday,  he  seemed  to  his  own 
household  hfted  above  himself.     And  he  had  tasted 
my  evening  discourse  upon  the  minister's  wayfaring, 
raven-brood  life  to  be  very  good.   And  it  is  marvellous, 
we  concluded  our  service  with  the  34 — 37  verses  of  the 
37th  Psalm,— as  if  the  Lord  would  encourage  me  with 
respect  to  that  service  of  wliicli  I  desponded  to  you 
last   night.     Wliile  I  talked  with  dear  Andi'ew,  not 
knowing  but  the  others  were  the  watchful  officers  of 
justice,   he  upon   the  sofa   struck   his   forehead    and 

VOL.  I.  Y 


322  .TOSKPIl    I.V    ITvISOX. 

started  t(^  liis  foot  \\\\h  n  mnnino  :iir,  ciying,  '  Oil, 
God,  tlu'  lioiTors  aiv  coining  u]k)U  mo  ! "  and  wildly, 
very  wildly,  strode  tlirou'di  the  room  ;  so  tluit  I  was 
stiindimi  to  my  arms,  lest  he  miL,dit  be  moved  of  Satan 
agjiinst  me  for  the  words  wliicli  I  was  speaking  to 
Andrew.  And  lie  with  his  liand  njx)!!  his  head  wept, 
and  tlie  other  man  would  comfort  with  '  })atiencc  '  — 
'  philosophy.'  But  the  wounded  man  continued  to 
burst  out,  and  stride  on.  and  beat  his  forehead.  Whence 
we  gathered  that  he  had  been  there  for  a  whole  month, 
daily  expecting  releasement,  but  none  came,  every 
message  worse  than  another  ;  and  ever  and  anon  lie 
spoke  of  his  wife.  Then,  when  his  fit  was  over,  in 
which  ho  talked  of  people  putting  an  end  to  them- 
selves, and  of  the  fits  of  horror  which  broke  his  sleep, 
I  addressed  words  of  comfort  to  him,  and  prevailed  to 
soothe  him  ;  so  that,  when  I  came  away,  he  said,  '  It 
were  well  for  us  to  receive  many  such  visits,  Su\'  But 
I  must  break  off —  the  night  wears  very  late,  and  I 
am  getting  too  much  moved.  The  Lord  bless,  for  the 
night,  my  lo\ang  and  beloved  wife,  and  the  Lord  bless 
our  baptized  babe  —  our  httle  daughter  of  the  Lord  ! 

^^  Tuesday,  loth. — Andrew,  wdio  realised  to  me  the 
idea  of'  Joseph  in  prison,  liad  come  away  in  great 
haste,  and  omitted  to  take  his  Bible  with  him,  wliich 
I  supphed  with  my  far-travelled  and  dear  companion, 
now  bound  firmly  as  at  the  first.  Those  storms  which 
I  encountered  upon  the  Yarrow  mountains  melted  the 
cover  of  my  writing-desk,  and  firmly  bound  the  loose 
Ijack  of  my  Biljle.  Leaving  Andrew,  I  proceeded  to  my 
enL'afjement  at  six  o'clock  in  Fleet  Market,  which  was 
to  visit  ;^Iiss  M ,  and  her  brother  and  sister,  who  hve 


FROM  HOUSE  TO  HOUSE.  323 

with  lier.  Their  father  dead,  their  mother  in  Essex,  and 
two  married  brothers  in  town,  so  estranged  from  her  by 
selfishness  and  workUiness,  that  '  if  five  shilhugs  would 
save  me  from  death,  I  hardly  think  I  could  muster  it 
amongst  all  my  relations.'  Oh,  what  a  blessmg  to 
Scotland  are  her  family  ties  !  Eamihes  here  are  only 
associations  under  one  roof  for  a  few  years,  to  issue  hi 
ahenation  and  estrangement :  I  am  grieved  at  my 
heart  to   witness   it.     But   she  abides  strono;   in  the 

Lord Her  brother  gave  wonderful  ear  to  me. 

My  words  entered  deep,  for  he  wept  almost  continually, 
and  was  mucli  overpowered ;  and  I  do  trust  in  the 
Lord  that  the  lad  may  be  brought  to  a  more  obedient 
and  loving  spirit  towards  his  sister.  Having  finished  a 
very  sweet  visitation,  to  which  there  came  in  an  old 
woman,  and  a  boy  about  to  proceed  to  JSTorth  America, 

whom  I  also  exhorted,  I  hastened  to  ]\Irs.  P 's,  in 

order  to  set  her  mind,  and  especially  her  imagination,  at 
rest,  which  Avould  be  conjiu-ing  a  thousand  ideal 
frights  about  a  prison.  Which  having  done  with  much 
consolation  to  my  own  spkit,  I  called  as  I  passed  at 
Bedford   Square   to    see    if    anything   had '  happened 

untoward,  but  found  that  all  was  well ]\Ii\ 

Scoresby  was  still  sitting,  and  after  I  had  taken  a  cup 
of  tea,  we  came  on  oiu:  ways  together,  enjoying  much 
delightful  discourse.  The  Lord  is  opemng  his  mind 
wonderfully  to  the  right  apprehension  of  the  minis- 
terial ofiice.  I  arrived  not  at  home  till  about  ten 
o'clock,  and  assembled  the  family  for  worship ;  and 
after  writing  the  above,  I  went  to  bed  and  dreamt  a 
dream  of  sweet  thouo;hts  —  that  I  Avas  sitting;  at  Jesus's 
feet   and   learning   the   way  to  discharge   my   office, 

T  2 


3-24  CIllIISTlAN  INTKKCOUllSE. 

liaving  only  six  days  lo  lioar  from  tlio  Divine  Instructor, 
at  wliicli  liino  llr  was  (o  remove  from  tlio  earth. 

"  I  Avas  nnicli  refrcslkd  l>v  the  sweet  thou<jflits  of  tlie 
niglit,  and  arose  very  cheerful  ;  and  while  the  family 
was  at  worsiiip,  Mr.  Sooreshy  and  Mr.  Hamilton  came 
in,  whom  I  had  invited  on  purpose  to  meet  one  another. 
Our  nuM'ning  was  passed  in  sweet  discourse,  and  after- 
wards I  o])ened  to  Mr.  Scoresby,  in  my  own  study, 
many  of  my  views  concerning  the  Church  :  into  some 
he  could  enter,  and  into  others  not.  But  he  is  srow- 
ing  richly  in  di\ine  knowledge,  and  I  praise  the  Lord 
for  his  sake.  We  prayed  together  before  he  went 
away,  and  I  invited  him  wdien  he  came  back  to  make 

liis  home  ^vith  us Then  I  addressed  myself  to 

my  discourse  on  the  1)ondage  of  law,  and  having 
wrought  that  vein  till  I  was  wearied,  I  betook  myself 
to  the  correcting  of  another  proof,  and  had  gone  over 
it  once,  and  was  about  concluding  the  second  reading, 
when  a  letter  from  Wm.  Hamilton  announced  that  Mr. 
David  was  much  worse,  and  a  few  hours  might  termi- 
nate his  life.  Thereupon  I  left  all,  and  proceeded  to 
the  house  of  death.  On  my  way  I  met  Mr.  Simon 
proceeding  to  Bath  in  order  to  build  up  certain 
churches  there  who  have  besought  his  presence.  We 
commended  each  other  to  the  Lord,  and  took  our 
several  ways.  I  found  Mr.  David  still  Uving,  and  some 
faint  hopes  of  amendment ;  but  I  am  prepared  for  the 

worst,  which  I  doubt  not  is  the  best. I  wrote  a 

letter  to  Wilhe,  who  is  at  Norwich  at  school,  opening 

the  afflicting  inteUigence  to  him  as  best  I  could 

I  returned  in  time  to  get  my  proof-sheet  finished  for 
the  post ;  since  which  I  have  been  labouring  up  the  hill 


DOMESTIC  AVORSHIP.  325 

with  my  lecture  upon  the  pious  women  who  ministered 
unto  Christ ;  when,  at  nine  o'clock,  a  lady  came  in  to 
enjoy  the  privilege  of  our  prayers.  At  the  church  on 
Wednesday  evening  a  sorrowful  lady  asked  me  if  it 
was  true  that  I  read  prayers  at  my  own  house  and 
permitted  people  to  come.  I  said,  at  family  worship  I 
dehght  to  comfort  and  encoiu:a2;e  the  hearts  of  all  who 
are  present,  and  if  you  come  on  a  spiritual  errand  you 
shall  be  welcome.  So  this  night  she  came,  and  hath 
opened  to  me  her  sorrows.  Three  months  ago  she 
lost  her  only  boy,  after  three  years'  illness,  during 
which  she  watched  him  continually ;  and  now  she  is 
alone  in  the  world,  with"  a  memory  haunted  and  a 
heart  stunned  and  broken,  knowing  little  of  the  spiritual, 
and  dwelling  much  in  the  imagmation.  His  sufferings 
had  been  extreme,  and  his  death  frightful ;  and  his 
poor  mother,  not  more  than  your  years,  is  now  alone 

in  this  great  city,  which  to  her  is  a  great  desert 

Her  husband  was  a  Sicihan,  and  died  before  the  boy 

was  born She  wanted  to  know  if  she  would 

know  her  son  in  heaven.  I  could  have  wept  for  her, 
but  I  saw  she  needed  another  treatment,  and  therefore 
rebuked,  but  with  kindness,  her  imagmations,  and 
showed  her  the  way  to  the  spkitual  world,  whither  I 

pray  the  Lord  to  lead  her The  Lord  enable  me 

to  direct  her  in  the  way  of  peace Thus  another 

day  has  passed  with  its  various  incidents  and  various 
blessings.  I  have  been  oft  in  it  enjoying  near  com- 
munion with  God,  and  oft  I  have  been  cold  and  life- 
less. Wlien  shall  I  be  wholly  vdth  the  Lord  ?  I  do 
desire  His  abiding  presence  —  the  hght  of  His  counte- 
nance  Now  may  the  Lord  be  the  canopy  over 


326  A    DKATII-BKl). 

your  liond,  and  over  the  liead  of  tlie  l)al)e,  this  niglit, 
and  over  mine,  enveloping  us  in  the  everlasting  arms  ! 
^'l]'r<lnrs(f<ii/,  KIM  Xoremhcr. — Our  dear,  dear  i'riend 
is  no  more.     He  departed  about  five  o'clock,  in  exactly 
that  frame  of  spirit  which,  above  all  others,  I  would 

wish  to  die  mj'self  in In  the  five  weeks  of  his 

sore  aflliction  his  robust  and  zealous  spirit  has  had  the 
meekness  of  a  little  child,  and  as  a  little  child  he  was 

taught  of  the  Spirit  in  a  wonderful  way The 

propitiation  of  Christ  and  his  own  unworthiness  were 
liis  chief  meditations,  and  continued  so  to  the  last. 
During  that  time  a  worldly  care  has  not  crossed  his  lips. 
His  soul  has  been  fidl  of  love  to  all,  and  of  great,  great 
affection  to  me.     I  know  not  that  I  have  one  left  who 

loved  me  as  he  did He  accompanied  me  to  the 

ship,  with  Mr.  Hamilton,  wdien  I  came  to  see  you  and 
little  Edward  ;  now  he  is  gone  in  London,  and  Edward 
lies  in  his  cold  grave  in  Scotland ;  and  I  am  left,  and 
you  are  left,  whom  I  feared  lest  I  should  lose ;  and  left 
we  are,  dearest,  to  bear  fruit  unto  God,  and  fruit 
we  will  bear  unto  God,  being  cleansed  by  the  word  of 
Christ,  and  supported  by  the  juices  and  nourishment  of 
the  vine,  and  dressed  by  the  hands  of  our  heavenly 
Father.  Let  us  watch  and  exhort  one  another,  as  I 
now  do  you,  my  dearest  wife,  to  much  fi-equent  private 
communion  with  God.  This  was  what  our  friend  had 
resolved  to  apply  himself  to  with  more  diligence  than 
ever  if  it  had  been  the  will  of  the  Father  to  spare  him. 
About  three  o'clock,  I  received  a  message  from  Wm. 
Hamilton  that  he  was  fast  fading  away,  and  had  ex- 
pressed a  wish  to  see  me.  I  had  proposed  going  about 
two  hours  after ;   these  two  hours  would  have  lost  me 


A   GOOD   VOYAGE.  327 

the  sweetest  parting  in  my  life — my  child  first  born 
unto  Christ,  at  least  who  is  known  to  me.  I  found  him 
far  gone  in  breathlessness,  but  lively  in  hearing,  quick 
in  understanding,  and  full  of  the  Spirit  of  Hfe.  He 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  me ;  liis  other  was  stretched 

to  his  wife,   on  the  other  side  of  the  bed I 

prayed  with  him,  and  afterward  continued,  at  intervals, 
to  supply  his  thoughts  with  pregnant  scriptures.  I  re- 
peated to  him  the  23rd  Psalm,  in  which  he  was  wont  to 
have  such  dehght.  This  revived  him  very  much,  and  he 
uttered  several  things  ^vith  a  grave,  full,  deep  voice,  in- 
terrupted by  his  want  of  breath.  '  My  whole  hope,  trust, 
and  dependence  is  in  the  mercy  of  God,  who  sent  His 

Son  to  save  the  meanest.' I  saw  death  close  at 

hand,  and  drew  near  and  took  his  hand.  His  breathing 
deepened,  and  became  more  like  distinct  gasps.  And  it 
failed,  and  failed,  until  his  lungs  did  their  office  no  more, 
and  he  died  without  a  struggle  of  a  hmb,  or  the  dis- 
composure of  a  muscle — ^his  mouth  open  as  it  had  drawn 
its  last  breath  - —  his  eye  fixed  still  on  me ;  and  we  stood 
silent,  silent  around  him.  Then  Mr.  Bedome  closed  his 
eyelids.  I  know  not  why  they  do  so.  I  loved  to  look  on 
Edward's.  Dear,  lovely  corpse  of  Edward,  what  a  sweet 
tabernacle  was  that  over  which  thy  mother  and  I  wept 
so  sadly !  My  much  beloved  child,  my  much-cherished, 
much-beloved  child,  dwell  in  the  mercies  of  my  God, 
and  the  God  of  thy  mother !  We  will  follow  thee  be- 
times, God  strengthening  us  for  the  journey.  I  had  still 
an  hour  to  sit  ^dth  Mrs.  David,  and  to  write  sweet 
Wilham  and  his  grandfather.  She  was  comforted,  and 
I  left  her  tranquil.  Mr.  Hamilton,  who  is  mucli  afiected, 
was  seated  below,  in  the  dining-room,  and  we  came  to 


328  Tin;    TIIKOLOGY    OF    .M KDICINE. 

tlio  Clmrcli  tofrcllKT,  wlieii  I  discoursed  from  the  24tli 
iind  2Mh  verses  of  (lie  14tli  chnpter  of  John,  and  made 
known  to  tlieni  tlie  sfood  intellii:;ence  that  our  brotlier 
liad  liad  a  ^ood  voyaixe  so  far  as  we  could  follow  him, 
or  he;u'  tidiness  lioin  Imii.  Mvciy  one  seemed  dee[)ly 
aflected,  and   all    whom   I  talked   with  were  sensibly 

rejoiced 'J  hus  aiiotlier  of  my  flf^-k  has  gone  to 

tlie  Chief  Shepherd Andrew  1' brought  me 

up  my  Bible,  having  been  delivered  last  night,  and 
giving  thanks  unto  God.  I  love  him  much;  his  mother, 
also,  is  better.     So  that  the  Lord  hath  shined  from 

behind  the  cloud James  P is  a  very  sweet 

companion.  Hall  is  still  weakly.  Tlie  rest  are  well.  I 
figlit  a  liard  fight,  l)ut  let  me  never  forsake  private 
communion  or  I  perish.  TJie  Lord  bless  you  and  our 
dear  babe.  I  wish  I  were  refreshed  with  a  sight  of  you 
both. 

"  Thursday,  two  o'clock. — I  have  had  such  a  conversa- 
tion Avith  one  of  my  congregation,  a  medical  man,upon  the 
subject  of  what  I  would  call  'the  theology  of  medicine,' 
as  made  me  sorry  you  were  not  present  to  hear  it.  But 
in  good  time,  when  you  are  restored  to  me,  you  shall 
hear  him  often ;  for  he  is  both  a  gentleman,  a  man  of 
science  —  the  true  science  of  nature — and  a  Christian. 
He  discoursed  upon  infants,  and  the  treatment  of 
infants,  so  well  and  wisely,  that  I  could  not  let  this 
letter  go  without  noting  to  you  one  or  two  things.*.  .  . 

"  Thursday,  1 1th  Nov. — My  dear  Isabella,  nothing  is 

*  Here  follows  a  minute  record  of  the  advice  he  had  just  received, 
rc7>orted  with  the  most  grave  and  anxious  particularity,  ?jut  con- 
cluding thus  :  "  To  these  rules  give  no  more  confidence  than  seems 
to  your  own  mind  good,  and  put  youi-  trust  in  the  providence  and 
blessing  of  Almighty  God." 


THE    GLORY   OF    GOD.  329 

of  such  importance  as  to  have  a  distinct  view  of  the  end 
of  all  our  labours  under  the  sun  —  our  studies,  our  con- 
versations, our  cares,  our  deskes,  and  whatever  else 
constitutes  our  being.  For  though  many  of  these  seem 
to  come  by  hazard,  Avithout  any  end  in  view,  beheve 
me,  my  dear,  that  every  habit  arose  out  of  an  end, 
either  of  our  own  good  or.  some  other  good  desu^able 
in  our  eyes ;  and  that  the  several  acts  contained  under 
that  label  go  to  strengthen  that  end  which  it  carried 
with  it  from  the  beginning.  Now,  dearest,  our  one, 
only  end  should  be  the  glory  of  God,  and  our  one,  only 
way  of  attaining  that  end  by  the  fulfilment  of  His  will ; 
and  the  only  means  of  knowing  that  will  is  by  the  faith 
of  His  word ;  and  the  only  strength  for  possessing  it  is 
the  love,  desire,  and  joy  which  are  begotten  in  us  by 
the  Holy  Ghost.  Therefore  be  carefiil,  my  dear  sister 
in  Christ,  to  occupy  your  thoughts  and  cares  with  some 
form  of  the  divine  revelation,  and  to  have  before  the 
eye  of  your  faith  some  divine  end  present  or  distant, — 
yea,  both  present  and  distant ;  and  then  shall  you  have 
communion  with  the  Father  and  with  his  Son  Jesus 
Christ  from  morning  to  evening.  This  attempt,  this 
succeed  in,  not  by  the  force  of  natural  will,  which  will 
make  such  a  hirphng,  hobblmg  gait  of  it,  but  by  the 
practical  redemption  of  your  Saviour,  which  will  by 
degrees  clear  you  of  the  former  slough,  and  feather 
your  callow  nakedness,  and  give  you  wings  with  which 
to  mount  up  into  the  exalted  region  of  life.  Have  ever 
in  view  the  glory  of  God,  and  ever  seek  help  to  it  by 
prayer,  and  the  Lord  himself  will  lead  you  into  the 
way.  These  thoughts  occurred  to  me  as  I  came  home 
from  Bedford  Square,  where  I  took  dinner  with  our  dear 


330  IIUSKIXESS    AROl'T   Till:    lUlAKT. 

frioiuls,  and  I  resolved  I  woidd  AVTitc  them  for  ycnir 
sake.  I  spent  tlie  morning  in  stndy  upon  tlie  lielj) 
wliii'li  women  may  aflord  and  liave  allorded  in  tlie 
Churcli,  and  liave  brouglit  my  lecture  nearly  to  a  close  ; 
so  that  I  have  to-morrow  and  lu'xt  day  for  the  j^reat 
tliemc  of  legal  bondage  on  wliidi  I  liave  entered.  I 
would,  and  earnestly  ]')ray  that  I  might,  keep  my 
thoughts  during  study  intent  upon  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  promotion  of  Christ's  kingdom.  And  it  were 
not  dutiful  if  I  did  not  acknowledge  that  the  Lord  is 
brimriuo;  me  into  a  region  of  nearer  communion.  IJut 
I  cannot  tell  what  huskiness  there  is  about  my  heart, 
and  in  my  discourse  what  seeking  after  intellectual  or 
imaginary  forms.  Oh,  that  I  could  feel  the  very  truth, 
and  rejoice  with  the  free  joy  of  its  inheritance!  During 
my  study,  Dr.  Wilkins  came  in,  and  discoursed  to  me 
for  about  an  hour  with  a  simplicity  and  beauty  which 
ra\ished  me.  If  he  do  not  prove  visionary  upon  further 
acquaintance — if  his  practical  understanding  be  per- 
fectly sound,  then  he  is  the  greatest  accession  to  my 
acquaintance  since  I  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Frere, 
and  will  prove  to  me,  in  all  that  respects  the  chemistry 
of  the  bodily  constitution,  what  other  leaders  have 
been  to  me  in  respect  to  the  mental  and  the  spiritual. 
The  Lord  hath  showed  me  such  marvellous  kindness, 
in  respect  of  teachers,  that  I  cannot  enough  praise  Him. 
.  .  .  The  object  of  liis  discourse  was  to  prove  that 
nature  had  no  tendency  to  any  disease,  but  wholly  the 
reverse ;  and  that,  were  it  not  our  ignorance  and  per- 
versity, we  would  come  to  our  full  age,  and  drop  into 
the  grave  as  a  shock  of  com  in  its  season ;  and  he 
began   his  demonstration  from   the  condition  of  the 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  A   MAN.  331 

child.  .  .  .  There  was  much  more  he  had  to  dis- 
course of,  but  I  told  him  I  had  enough  for  the  present, 
and  would  hear  him  another  time.  He  is  a  man  of 
fine  mamiers  and  a  sweet  nature,  —  of  continued  ac- 
knowledgment  of  God   and  blame  of  man 

ISTow,  dearest,  I  have  put  all  this  down  for  yoiu*  sake, 
that  you  might  meditate  upon  it,  and  make  the  use  of 
it  which  you  judge  best.  The  man  you  will  hke  ex- 
ceedingly, that  I  know  full  well,  because  we  are  of 
one  spkit  now,  or  fast  growing  into  one  sphit — praised 

be  the  mercy  of  our  God The  Lord  be  gracious 

to  you  and  all  the  house.  I  pray  for  you  and  baby, 
I  oft  think,  \vith  more  earnestness  than  for  myself, 
which  is  sentiment,  and  not  faith.  The  Lord  edify  us 
in  one  most  holy  faith ;  and  Mary  also,  whose  salvation 
I  earnestly  deske.     Amen. 

^'■Friday,  l^th. — My  dear  Isabella,  there  is  no  point 
of  wisdom,  human  or  divine,  so  carefully  to  be  attended 
to,  for  one's  own  good,  or  for  the  knowledge  and  good 
of  others,  as  the  spmt  wliich  men  are  of.  For  the 
spirit  draws  after  it  the  understanding,  and  determines 
the  views  which  men  take  of  every  subject,  m  the 
world  of  sight  or  in  the  world  of  faith.  Some  people 
remain  under  the  spirit  of  their  minds,  and  become  in- 
tensely selfish.  But  the  social  principle  leads  the  several 
spirits  to  congregate  together  for  mutual  defence  and 
encom^agement.  First  of  all  there  is  the  Holy  Spirit, 
whose  communion  constitutes  the  true  Church  of  Clmst, 
and  you  may  be  sure  their  opmions  will  be  orthodox 
doctrine,  charitable  sentiment,  sweet,  patient  temper, 
and,  in  short,  transcripts  of  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. 
Then  there  is  the  worldly  spirit,  which  is  one  in  respect 


332         DIFFEKKNT    FORMS   OF   THE   WORLDLY    Sl'llilT. 

of  it^  opposition  l<»  llu'  former,  ;i ml  intolerance  of  nil  ils 
opinions  ;  but  in  respect  to  itseli",  is  divided  into  man}^ 
its  name  being  liCLrion.     Of  these  I  find  to  prevail  at 
present  t lie  following:  —  1st.  Around  you  in  Scotland 
there  is  the  si>irit  of  the  Iiuiikui  u/idt'r^taiiding^  of  which 
scepticism  of  all  things  that  cannot  be  expressed  with 
logiciil  precision  is  the  characteristic,  and  an  utter  ab- 
horrence of  all  mystery;  whereas,  as  you  know,  to  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  simplicity  everything  is  a  mystery  un- 
foldinn  itself  more  and  more.     There  is  also  the  siiirit 
of  self-sufficiency,  which  characterizes  our  countrymen 
above  measure.     With  us  we  have  the  spirit  of  expedi- 
ency, which  calculates  what  it  can  foresee,  and  accounts 
all  beyond  to  be  void  and  unreclaimed  chaos;  it  is 
utterly  fruitless  of  any  principle  self-directing  in  the 
human  soul,  and  would  make  man  wholly  under  the 
influence  of  outward  things.     Of  this  class  Owen  is  the 
fool.     About  the  universities  of  England  is  the  spirit  of 
antiquity,  which  prizes  what  is  recondite  and  difficult 
of  discovery,  and  nms  out  into  Eg^j^otian  expeditions  to 
the  p}Tamids  and  the  tombs.    And  amongst  the  common 
people  there  is,  in  direct  opposition  to  this,  the  spirit 
of  radicahsm,  which  hath  n(j  reverence  for  antiquity, 
or  hideed  for  anything  but  its  own  projections.     In  the 
Church  here  there  is  the  spu-it  of  formaUty,  which  often 
ascends  into  very  high  regions  of  beauty  and  comeU- 
ness,  but  Avants  the  living,  acting,  confirming  principle 
—  is  but  an  Apollo  Belvedere  or  a  Venus  de'  Medici 
after  all, —  not  a  hving,  acting,  self-directing  principle. 
I  have  not  time  nor  strength  to  open  the  subject  philo- 
sophically, but  I  have  said  enough  to  lead  your  medi- 
tations to  it,  which  is  all  that  I  desire.     For  observe 


TRY    THE   SPIRITS.  3.S3 

you,  my  dear,  that  if  you  be  of  the  right  spirit,  all 
things  wiU  right  themselves  in  the  eyesight  of  your 
mind.  Hence  the  Holy  Spirit  is  called  also  the  spirit 
of  trutli.  We  do  not  get  right  by  conning  our  opinions 
back  over  again,  but  we  change  our  opinions,  as  we  do 
our  dress,  from  a  change  in  our  spirit.  Therefore  these 
are  often  not  hypocrites,  but  rash  men,  who  are  seen  so 
suddenly  to  change  their  sides.  And  true  conversion 
draws  with  it  an  alteration  of  all  our  opinions ;  and 
conversion  is  properly  defined  as  a  change  of  spirit. 
How  often  do  people  say,  It  was  all  true  he  said,  but 
spoken  in  a  bad  spirit.  Now  if  you  wish  to  be  right, 
seek  communion  with  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  if  you  wish 
to  know  whom  you  ought  to  hsten  to,  by  what  manner 
of  spirit  he  is  of,  try  the  spirits  whether  they  be  of 
God.  Milton  could  not  say,  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God, 
because  he  would  not  yield  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  but  pre- 
ferred the  spirit  of  radicahsm ;  and  as  no  one  can  know 
the  Father  but  he  to  whom  the  Son  revealeth  Him,  so 
no  one  knoweth  the  Son  but  he  to  whom  the  Spirit 
revealeth  Him.  And  what  is  meant  by  having  right 
opinions,  or  being  wise,  but  to  know  the  Son  who  is 
truth?  And  much  more  remains,  wliich  I  may  perhaps 
write  hereafter. 

"  I  gave  God  thanks  for  your  letter,  and  for  the 
answer  of  my  prayers  that  you  continued  to  stand 
fast  in  the  Lord.  With  respect  to  your  journey, 
you  will  easily  reach  Dumfries  by  postmg  it ;  and 
I  think  you  ought  to  take  the  road  by  Biggar,  Thorn- 
hill,  and  the  Mth,  as  being  the  more  pleasant,  and  I 
think,  if  anything,  the  more  sheltered  of  the  two ; 
although,  in  that  respect,  both  are  bleak  enough ;  .  .  . 


334  A    r.llNKDICTION    TO    TIIK    AIJSKXT. 

from  Annan  j-ou  luul  better  take  the  way  by  Newcastle, 
and  tlienee  to  Mr.  ]>ell's,  of  B<\>^well,  which  T  understand 
to  be  within  seven  miles  of  York,  and  I  would  meet 
you  tlierc.  .  .  .  From  Annan  you  will  bring  me 
two  or  tliree  pairs  of  a  shoe  of  a  passing  good  form  for 
my  foot.  Nothing  has  occurred  to  me  to-day  woith 
mentioning.  I  have  enjoyed  the  presence  of  God  be- 
yond  my   dcservings.      I   preached   to   Mr.   N 's 

people,  and  recognise  iu  them  improvement,  as  I  hope ; 
much  in  him.  There  was  one  idea  which  occurred  to 
me  worth  writini:.  How  vain  is  it  for  man  to  tnist  in 
God's  mercy,  when  His  own  Son,  though  lie  cried  hard 
for  it,  could  find  none,  but  had  to  drink  the  cup  of 
justice !    I  am  weary.     The  Lord  be  with  you  all ! 

"  Saturday,  IWi  November. — I  am  so  fatigued,  dear 
Isabella,  that  I  dare  not  venture  to  write ;  but  will  not 
retire  to  rest  without  inserting  upon  this  record  of  my 
dearest  thoughts,  a  husband's  and  a  father's  blessing 
upon  his  dear  ^vife  and  child. 

^^  Sabbath,  20th  November. — I  have  reason  this  night 
asrain  to  bless  the  Lord  for  His  goodness  to  His 
unworthy  servant,  for  I  have  been  much  supported, 
and  have  had  great  liberty  given  me  to  wi-estle  with 
the  souls  of  the  people ;  but  I  want  much  the  grace  of 
wrestling  with  the  Lord  for  their  sake.  I  feel  daily 
drawn,  hke  the  prophet  Daniel,  to  some  great  and  con- 
tinued act  of  humiliation  and  earnest  supphcation  for 
the  Church,  but  Satan  hindereth  me.  And  yet  I  doubt 
not  the  Lord  will  work  in  me  this  victory,  and  that  Ijy 
your  help  I  shall  yet  be  able  to  wait  upon  the  Lord 
night  and  day,  and  to  weep  between  the  altar  and 
tabernacle  for  the  souls  of  the  people.     Lideed,  I  have 


VISION'S   OF   THE   NIGHT.  335 

already  planned  that  when  the  Lord  restore  you  to  my 
sight  (in  spirit  we  are  never  parted),  we  shall  pass  an 
hour  of  every  day,  from  four  till  five,  in  our  own 
room,  with  no  presence  but  the  presence  of  God,  which 
we  will  earnestly  entreat :  and  we  will  rest  from  our 
great  labours  that  hour,  and  meditate  of  our  everlasting 
rest.  Before  entering  upon  this  day's  labom"s,  I  will 
look  back  upon  yesterday,  that  you  may  be  informed 
of  one  or  two  things  which  will  be  pleasant  to  your 
ear.  The  death  of  our  friend  David  hath  wi'ought 
wonderfully  for  good  with  us  all,  so  that  men  busy 
with  the  world  have  wept  hke  childi^en  ;  and  all  have, 
I  think,  had  the  spiritual  seasoning  intermingled  -v^dth 
the  natural  feehng.  It  wrought  upon  me  in  the  way 
of  greater  earnestness  of  spiritual  communion ;  and  I 
think  yesterday  morning,  in  the  visions  of  the  night,  I 
was  conscious  of  the  sweetest  enjoyments  of  the  soul 
I  ever  knew.  There  was  no  vision  presented  to  my 
sight  in  my  dream,  but  there  was  a  sense  of  deeper 
meaning  and  clearer  understanding  given  to  oiu-  Lord's 
parting  discourse,  which  filled  me  with  a  spiritual 
dehght ;  a  fight  of  spiritual  glory  that  was  unspeakably 
mild  and  dehghtful.  I  awoke  full  of  thanksgiving  and 
praise,  and  bowed  myself  upon  my  bed,  and  gave 
thanks,  and  arose  to  my  labours.  I  break  off  for 
worship.     The  Lord  be  in  the  midst  of  us  ! 

"  In  reading  the  last  half  of  the  16th  chapter  of 
John,  I  was  struck  with  the  23rd  and  24th  verses, 
which  show  us  why  the  Lord's  prayer  was  not  con- 
cluded ui  Christ's  name — because  he  was  not  Intercessor 
and  High  Priest  till  after  His  death.  He  was  perfected, 
that  is,  consecrated  (for  the  word  for  consecration  was 


a.ir.  SUNDAY. 

then  porfcctinir),  by  .siifToriiijis.  Tn  \ho  dnj^s  of  ITis  llcsh 
lie  liad  lu)  mediatorial  i)ower,  bul  wius  cuii(|ueiiiig  it 
to  Himself  and  Ilis  Cliuivh ;  and  therefore  lie  called 
upon  them  to  rejoice  that  lie  wjis  to  go  away.  Now  to 
return.  All  the  day  huii:  I  continued  hi  study,  with 
walks  in  the  garden  and   relaxations  of  histor)%  mitil 

after  two  o'clock,  when  I  bore  Mr.  V company  to 

Bedford  Square Tlicucel  proceeded  to  the  house 

of  affliction .  Now  I  come  to  the  labours,  the 

blessed  labom's,  of  the  Sabbath,  Tliis  morning  I  awoke 
at  six,  but  was  too  weary  to  rise  tiU  eight ;  and  having 
gone  over  my  sennon,  with  my  pen  in  my  hand,  to 
bring  it  to  very  truth  as  nearly  as  I  know  it,  I  went  to 
chui'ch  with  Mr.  Dimviddie,  who  enters  cordially  with 
me  into  prayer,  and  is  desirous  of  a  more  spiritual 
discom'se  than  when  you  used  to  walk  with  him.  After 
Psahns  and  prayer,  in  which  I  liad  no  small  communion, 

we  perused  the    4th  of    Ilebrews Then  I 

commenced  my  discourse  on  Gal.  ii.  14,  upon  the 
bondage  of  law,  opening  the  whole  subject  of  justifi- 
cation by  faith,  upon  which  I  intend  to  discourse  at 
large ;  and  I  presented  them  first  with  a  view  of  the 
dignity  of  the  law,  both  outward  in  the   state   and 

mward  m  the  soul (But  it  has  struck 

twelve  ;  tlie  Lord  bless  tliee  and  the  child,  and  rest  us 
tliis  night  in  the  arms  of  His  love  and  mercy,  so  as  we 
may  arise  as  to  a  resurrection  of  hfe  against  to-morrow ! 
Amen.)  To-morrow  is  come,  and  I  am  still  in  the  land 
of  the  living  to  praise  and  glorify  my  Creator  and 
Itcdeemer ;  which  having  done  according  to  my  weak- 
ness, I  sit  down  to  my  pleasant  labour,  after  many  inci- 
dents wliich  must   form   part  of  my   next   despatch. 


THE   MINISTRY    OF   WOMEX.  337 

Then  showing  them  the  Charybclis  of  hcentiousness 
upon  the  other  side  of  the  fair  way,  into  which  Anti- 
nomians  and  other  loose  declaimers  against  the  law  did 
carry  miserable  souls,  and  where  also  superstition  and 
Methodism  did  bind  them  in  bare  bondage  after  they 
had  seduced  them  from  the  wholesome  restraints  of  law, 
into  which  law  they  ought  to  have  breathed  the  spirit 
of  true  obedience  —  I  concluded  by  entreating  their 
prayers  that  I  might  be  enabled  to  handle  this  vast 
subject  with  power,  and  love,  and  a  sound  mind  (which 
I  again  beseech  of  you  also) 

"In  the  evening  I  was  feeble  in  prayer  to  begin 
with,  no  doubt  from  want  of  faith  ;  but  the  Lord 
strengthened  me  towards  the  close,  otherwise  I  thmk 
I  should  not  have  had  heart  to  go  on  w^th  the  ser- 
vice, I  felt  so  spmt-stricken My  lecture  was 

upon  the  ministry  of  women  in  their  proper  sphere 
in  the  church,  which  I  drew  out  of  the  Scriptures 
by  authority ;  and  by  the  same  authority  hmited 
and  restrained  from  authority,  either  m  word  or  in 
discipline,  to  the  gentle  and  tender  ministry  of  love, 
and  devotion  of  goods  and  personal  services,  which 
afforded  me  a  sweet  and  gracious  topic  to  descant 
upon,  in  defence  of  female  hberty,  and  emancipation 
from  worldly  and  fasliionable  prudential  laws  and 
tyrannies  of  decorum,  false  delicacy,  and  other  base 
bondages ;  all  which  I  set  off  with  the  historical  illus- 
trations of  woman's  vast  services,  martyrdoms,  shelter 
of  the  persecuted,  care  of  the  poor,  to  the  seeming  con- 
viction of  the  people  ;  and  concluded  with  a  summary 
of  a  Christian  woman's  duties  in  her  various  relations  ; 
and  insisted  upon  them,  as  they  were  members  of  my 

VOL.  I.  z 


338  MOKNIMi    VISITORS. 

c'liuivli,  to  br  lu'l]>t"'il  It)  nu',  or  else  I  saw  no  j)i-ospeet 

ol"  Miiy  Ljrowtli  ol' eoinmuiiiou  ill  llie  midst  of  us 

Dearest,  I  liave  set  fortli  in;iiiy  lIiiiiLrs  in  tliis  letter  tor 
your  metlitatioii.  Tliey  are  seeds  of  thought  (rather) 
thau  ihouirhts  ;  the  sjnrit  of  truth  (rather)  than  the 
doctrine.'^  of  tnitli.  Tliink  on  these  things,  nnd  meditate 
them  nuK'h,  and  thr  Lord  give  you  undei'standing  in 
all  thiugs.  For  our  babe  v/e  eau  do  notJiing  but  pray 
unto  the  Lord,  and  cease  from  amviety^  livhyj  in  faith ; 

and  cease  from  an.rieti/,  lirin</  in  faith 

^'Monday,  2\st  November,  1825. — May  the  Lord  of 
His  great  mercy  fill  my  soul  with  the  fulness  of  love 
to  my  dear  wife  ;  that,  as  Christ  loved  the  Church,  I 
uuiv  love  her,  and  in  like  manner  manifest  with  all 
gracious  words  my  unity  of  soid  with  her  soul  ;  that 
we  may  be  one  as  Thou,  our  Creator,  didst  intend 
man  and  Avoman  to  be  fioui  the  beginning.  This  day, 
dearest,  hath  been  to  me  a  day  of  much  and  varied 
activity,  which,  being  full  of  reflection  and  confhct,  I 
shall  recount  in  order.  After  good  rest,  which,  l)y 
the  blessing  of  God,  my  wearied  head  doth  constantly 
enjoy,  I  arose  about  eight,  and,  being  outwardly  and 
inwardly  apparelled,  I  came  down  to  fulfil  the  will  of 

God,  whatever  it  miglit  be,  and  found  Mr.  M ,  the 

artist,  and  Mr.  S ,  also  an  artist,  of  whom  I  wrote 

to  you,  as  being  one  of  my  comniimicants,  with  whom 
and  the  family,  having  worshipped  the  God  of  our 
salvation,  while  breakfast  was  arranging  in  the  other 

room  by  good  LL-s.  Hall,  Miss  W and  another 

lady  came  to  wait  upon  me,  whom  I  went  to  see.    The 

lady  iii  a  Mrs.  S ,  dwelhng  in  the  city,  who  has  been 

much  blessed  Ijy  my  ministry,  and  was  Ijrought  to  it  in 


A   DREAAI.  339 

this  wonderful  way,  as  she  told  it  me  from  her  own 
lips.  She  had  been  much  tried  by  a  worthless  husband, 
of  whom  you  know  there  are  so  many  in  this  tie- 
dissolving  city ;  and  in  the  midst  of  her  sorrowful 
nights  she  dreamed  a  dream :  that  she  was  carried  to 
a  church,  of  which  the  form  and  court,  even  to  two 
trees  which  grew  over  the  wall,  were  impressed  upon  her 
mind  ;  and  there  she  heard  a  minister,  whose  form  and 
dress,  to  the  very  shape  of  his  gown,  was  also  impressed 
upon  her,  who  preached  to  her  from  these  words : 
'Blessed  are  ye  poor,  for  yours  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.'  This  she  communicated  to  one  of  her  com- 
forting friends,  to  whom,  describing  the  gown,  she  an- 
swered that  he  must  be  a  Scotch  minister  who  was 
intended  by  the  vision,  for  they  are  the  only  people 
who  wear  that  kind  of  gown.  She  had  akeady  heard 
Dr.  Manuel  and  Dr.  Waugh,  but  was  sure  they  answered 
not  to  the  figure  of  the  vision  ;  but,  as  she  passed  a 
window,  she  saw  a  print  of  me,  and  was  impressed  with 
the  resemblance.  Heretofore  she  had  been  deterred 
from  coming  near  me  by  the  crowd,  but  now  she  re- 
solved some  evening  to  come ;  and,  having  taken  a 
friend's  house  by  the  way,  they  strongly  gainsayed  her 
purpose,  and  would  have  taken  her  elsewhere  with 
them,  and  all  but  prevailed.  This  detained  her  beyond 
the  hour,  and,  when  she  returned,  our  psalm  and  j)rayer 
were  over,  and  I  was  naming  the  subject  of  lecture, 
and  the  first  words  that  fell  upon  her  ears  were  the 
words  of  her  dream  :  '  Blessed  are  ye  poor,  for  yours 
is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  She  stood  in  the  midst  of 
a  crowd  hardly  able  to  stand,  and  beheld  and  heard  all 
which  had  been  revealed  to  her  in  the  visions  of  the 

z  2 


340  SL'EITICS. 

iiiixlu.  ...  Is  not  tliis  very  iiKiivt'llous,  dear  Isabolla, 
aiul  very  irracious,  llmt  tlic  l.ord  should  roiuibrl  His 
peoplo  by  sucli  a  Avonn  as  1  ;iin  ?  I  t'xliortcd  lier  to 
abide  steadfast,  ;iiid  to  eoiue  ;iL::iin  iiiid  see  me. 

"  When  breakfast  was  over,  I  brought  Mr.  S with 

nie  into  tlie  hbrarv.  wliose  li(\art.  T  ])('rc(Mved,M'as  lull  of 
some  matter,  wlio  told  me,  with  an  a rtlessness  and  alarm 
whieh  showed  his  happy  ignoranee  of  our  town  infidelity, 
that  a  cousin  of  his  had,  in  the  course  of  reliijious  conver- 
sation,  declared  his  disbelief  of  Jesus  being  the  son  of 
Pavid,  and  disputed  the  genealogies,  and  had  maintained 
that  in  Joshua's  time  they  were  but  })oor  geographers, 
othenvise  they  would  never  have  alleged  that  the  sun 
etood  still.  I  M'as  at  pains  to  instruct  him,  and  to  teach 
liim  the  subtle  arts  of  the  tempter,  but  he  concluded 
by  saying  that  it  was  not  for  himself,  but  for  his  cousin, 
that  he  was  concerned,  and  the  big  tear  Idled  his  eye 
when  he  said  it.  I  entreated  liim  to  biing  his  cousin 
some  night  at  our  hour  of  prayer,  and  I  would  do  my 
endeavour  to  set  him  right.     Now  I  had  received,  this 

very  morning,  a  letter  from  one  Gavin  II ,  a  poor 

infidel,  craving  that  I  would  pi'each  a  discourse  upon 
the  character  of  God,  which  he  could  not  understand 
to  be  both  merciful  and  vindictive  ;  and  I  had  received 
two  other  letters,  one  with  a  pamphlet,  craving  help  of 
me  against  the  infidel  Taylor,  who  is  poisoning  the  City 
at  such  a  rate  ;  and  having  likewise  been  entreated  by 
two  men  to  attend  a  meeting  in  John  Street  Chapel 
upon  the  suljject  of  the  District  Society  for  Evangelizing 
the  Poor,  I  resolved  to  attend,  though  somewhat 
against  my  intention,  considering  that  these  things,  put 
together,  were  a  sort  of  call  of  Providence.     Having 


THE   FOUR   SPIEITS.  341 

dismissed  Mr.  S ,  I  had  communion  with  Mr.  M , 

whom  Mr.  A had  been  in  much  fear  about  lately, 

lest  he  should  be  fallmg  back,  through  the  love  of  a 
young  woman,  and  the  companionship  of  her  family, 
who  were  not  spiritual.  To  this  subject,  introducing 
myself  gently,  modestly,  and  tenderly,  I  came  and 
spoke  upon  it  with  feeling,  as  having  been  in  hke 
manner  tried ;  —  for  in  what  way  have  I  not  been 
tempted,  and,  alas !  overcome  in  all  ?  ...  . 

"  Then,  being  left  alone,  I  sought  to  reheve  my  mind 
by  perusing  the  history  of  those  wonderful  instruments  of 
God,  the  Eoman  people,  not  without  prayer  that  the  Lord 
would  interpret  the  record  of  His  providence  to  my  soul. 
And  I  think  that  I  was  edified  in  it,  until  I  had  gathered 
strength  to  iiiiish  your  letter,  which  Brightwell  inter- 
rupted me  in,  to  whom  I  revealed  all  my  convictions 
of  the  spirits  that  were  abroad  in  the  world,  and  whicli 
were  defacmg  the  glory  of  the  Church  :  the  radical 
spirit  among  the  Dissenters,  the  intellectual  spirit  in  the 
Scottish  Churches,  the  spirit  of  expediency  among  the 
Evangehcals.  He  could  not  see  along  with  me  through- 
out, but  he  saw  more  than  most  men  I  converse  with. 
Do  pray  that  the  Lord  may  enable  me  clearly  to  dis- 
cern truth,  and  steadfastly  to  bear  testimony  to  it !  It 
is  a  Jesuitical  spirit  that  is  opposing  Christ  among  the 
Methodists.  And  these  four  spirits  are  so  weakening 
the  being  of  the  Church,  and  corrupting  the  life  which 
is  faith,  that,  though  their  numbers  may  increase,  it  will 
still  be  true,  '  When  the  Son  of  Man  cometh  shall  He 
find  faith  on  the  earth  ?'.... 

"  I  had  engaged  to  dine  with  Mr.  H at  four 

o'clock.    ...  I  knew  not  that  anything  was  waiting  me 


342  RKLIGIOUS    BELLES. 

there.  But  wliero  is  not  tlio  minister  of  the  Lord  wanted, 
in  this  distressed,  imprisoned,  and  rebellious  earth  ?  The 
old  man  w:u5  ill,  and  thry  had  been  forced  to  bleed  him. 
1  went  in  to  see  him  on  liis  bed,  and  would  have  prayed 
with  him,  but  he  professed  he  was  not  able  to  hear  me. 
Ah,  Lsal)ella.  I  fear  for  that  old  man  :  T  Lnvatly  fear  his 
soul  is  asleep  and  will  not  awake.  ]\lake  your  prayer 
for  him,  for  he  also  shall  be  required  at  your  husband's 

hand.     There  are   two  Miss  F 's,  cousins  of  the 

family,  come  to  spend  the  winter,  who  talked  much 
hke  the  young  women  of  Edinburgh,  chattering  a  vain 
palaver  about  ministers,  and  music,  and  organs,  with 
wliich  I  would  have  nothing  to  do.  But,  after  tea,  I 
began  to  talk  to  them  all,  concerning  the  things  of  their 

peace,  and  was  led  by  Mrs.  H 's  questions  to  unfold 

the  judicial  blindness  to  which  men  are  at  length  shut 
up,  and  to  open  the  whole  matter  of  our  dependence 
upon  the  Father,  which  was  mightily  confirmed  by  the 
first  half  of  the  ITth  chapter  of  John,  which  is  a  mar- 
vellous acknowledgment  of  the  Father's  sovereignty. 
I  pray  you  to  read  it  and  learn  humility,  self-emptying 
humility,  and  profound  notliingness  hi  your  prayers. 
They  all  wept,  the  religious  belles  as  well  as  tlie  rest ; 
and  a  young  nephew,  half-caste,  about  to  sail  for  India, 
wept  with  a  very  full  heart,  after  I  had  prayed  with 
them   all.     I  trust  that   family   is  growing  in  grace, 
and  I  fear  they  have  long  al^idden  formalists.    Eemem- 
ber  this  one  thing,  my  Isabella,  that  we  who  have 
believed  are  by  covenant  to  be  brought  into  the  full 
inheritance,  but  according  to  the  Lord's  time  and  pro- 
portion ;  but  surely  as  He  hath  sworn,  we  shall  inherit, 
therefore  abide  waiting,  abide  waiting  (how  long  did 


BEST   MANNER   OF   CONTENDING   WITH    INFIDELITY.    343 

He  wait  for  us?),  waiting   in   perfect   ftiitli   of  being 
led  in. 

"I  took  the  John  Street  Church  by  the  way,  and 
heard  them  dehberating  about  an  expedient  to  meet 
Taylor's  blasphemous  tract,  that  is  soon  to  be  pubhshed. 
They  are  very  busy,  these  enemies  of  the  Lord.  He 
cannot  bear  it  long.  They  are  carrying  the  people 
like  a  stream  away  from  God.  But  I  told  them  it  was 
not  by  the  expedient  of  tract- writing  or  circulating,  or 
controversial  work,  but  by  manifestation  of  the  truth 
to  the  conscience,  that  they  were  to  prevail ;  and  that, 
when  they  found  the  people  upon  that  ground  they 
should  answer  them  with  a  caveat,  that  the  matter  at 
issue  was  not  there,  still  giving  them  a  reason  with 
meekness  and  fear ;  but  sliift  the  ground  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible, not  because  the  ground  was  not  tenable,  but 
because  the  kino-dom  was  to  be  contended  for  elsewhere. 
That  the  teachers  ought  to  assemble  to  make  them- 
selves masters  of  the  infidel's  fence,  in  order  to  interpose 
their  shield  against  his  poisoned  arrows,  but  with  the 
other  hand  they  should  feed  the  poor  captive,  and 
nourish  him  into  strength  to  fight  himself  They  heard 
and  believed  me.  But  I  came  away  entreating  tlie 
Lord  to  make  me  a  man  in  the  breach  against  these 
sons  of  Behal,  and  that  I  was  willing  to  die  if  He  would 
spare  His  inheritance  from  these  fiery  flying  serpents  of 
infidel  notions,  which  have  fallen  in  upon  tliis  central 
congregation  of  Israel.  Tell  your  father  to  be  on  his 
post,  and  to  tell  his  brethren  to  look  to  their  arms, 
they  know  not  how  insecure  their  citadel  is.  Henry 
Drummond  was  in  the  chair  ;  he  is  in  all  chairs  —  I 
fear  for  him.  His  words  are  more  witty  than  spii-itual ; 


.144  A  SUBTLE  CANTAB. 

his    mnniier   is    spiritnel,  not   grave Tlion 

I  Cimie  lionio,  and  innnodiatoly  tlu-re  gatliercd  a  ]ilca- 
sjint  congregation  ....  to  Avlioni,  willi  my  family,  I 
addressed  the  ^vo^d  of  cxliorhition,  and  opened  the 
103rd  Psidni,  that  psahn  ol"  psahns,  and  our  passage 
in  order  was  Luke  xiv.  verse  25.  TTow  a])pro])riate 
to  these  eonnnunicants,  but  oh,  Isabelhi,  liow  subhme ! 
None  but  God  durst  have  uttered  sucli  an  abrupt  apos- 
troplie  to  a  multitude  of  men ;  and  no  midtitude  of  men 
would  have  borne  it  but  from  a  manifest  God.  But  liow 
contemptible  a  comparison  of  unresolved  professors — 
savourless  salt,  neither  good  for  the  field  of  the  Church 
nor  for  the  dunghill  of  the  world !  I  pray  you  to 
consider  this  passage  —  it  was  more  fertile  to  my  soul 
than  I  have  now  strength  to  tell.  The  ladies  went  their 
ways,  and  left  the  two  yoimg  men,  with  whom  having 
conversed  in  the  study  I  found  to  be  of  a  righteous 

spirit,  and  pressing  into  the  kingdom These 

things  rejoice  me.  The  Lord  enriches  me  with  comfort. 
Blessed  be  His  name !  Blessed  be  His  holy  name  ! 
His  thrice  holy  name  be  blessed  for  ever  and  ever ! 

"And  now,  dear,  I  am  wearied,  having  fulfilled  many 
gracious  offices,  and  having  had  a  breathing  of  the 
Spirit  on  them  all,  and  on  this  not  less  than  the  others, 
my  worthy  wife.  That  thou  and  ours,  and  the  house 
where  thou  dwellest  may  Ije  blessed  of  our  God  for 
ever  and  ever ! 

"  Tuesday,  22nd. — That  subtle  Cantab,  \vith  his  logic, 
has  almost  robbed  my  Isabella  of  her  tribute  of  love, 
he  has  so  exhausted  me.  In  the  morning  we  were 
alone,  and  I  arose  much  refreshed  with  sleep,  and,  after 
worship  and  breakfast,  addressed  myself  to  the  work 


A   CIRCLE   OF  KINSFOLK.  345 

of  meditating  the  5tli  cliapter  of  the  Hebrews  in  the 
original,  which  is  so  fLiU  of  tender  humanity.  To  this 
I  added,  in  the  garden,  some  reading  on  the  high 
priest's  office,  in  Godwin's  '  Moses  and  Aaron.'  And 
as  I  walked  I  had  much  elevation  of  soul  to  the 
heavenly  thrones,  with  certain  cogitations  of  God's 
neighbourhood  to  very  holy  men,  so  that  to  me  it 
seemed  not  possible  to  say  whether  He  might  not  still 
work  manifest  wonders  by  their  hand.  Not  to  convince 
them  Avith  visible  demonstrations,  for  that  is  the 
Cathohc  sohcitation  for  an  idol ;  but  to  work  spiritual 
wonders  by  their  means.  Thereafter  I  set  myself  to 
rough-hew  my  discourse,  of  which  more  when  it  takes 
shape  ;  taking  among  hands  the  '  Eoman  History,'  not 
without  prayer  that  the  Lord  would  open  to  me  the 
mystery  of  his  Providence,  when,  for  the  first  time, 
(oh,  unbehef !)  it  oceiurred  to  me  that  I  was  reading  the 
rise  of  the  fourth  great  monarchy  into  whose  hands 
God  had  given  the  earth.  The  works  of  the  Lord  are 
wonderful — sought  out  are  they  of  all  those  who  take 
pleasure  therein  ;  so  wonderful  was  the  rise  of  Macedon 

and  of  Persia,   for   Babylon  I  have   forgot 

Another    letter    from    Henry   Paul,    commendmg    a 

Miss  M to  me  as  one  of  the  people  of  God  who 

"wished  to  join  our  fold.  She  is  welcome  in  the  Lord's 
name.    I  could  not  see  her,  being  occupied  with  a  httle 

circle  of  kinsfolk,  who  were  Peter  F 's  wife,  and 

daughter,  and  mother.  .  .  .  They  are  on  their  way  to 
join  him  at  Dover  :  (how  full  of  painful  interest  that 
place  is  now  become  !  My  Edward  !  oh,  my  Edward  !) 
The  mother  wishes  to  get  a  housekeeper's  situation,  for 
which  she  is  quahfied,  and  desires  your  countenance ; 


846    TLEASURKS  (1F  TlIK  TAIILR  —  VKA  SOUl'  AM)  TOTATOES- 

SO,  wliile  you  aro  ;U  Duinrrios  and  Ainiaii,  Ipray  you  to 
satisfy  youi-sclf  of  lier  cliaractcr  and  ability,  that  wo 
may  liol]^  lier,  if  we  can.  1  roinmended  tlieni  to  the 
Lord  after  they  had  eaten  luvad  with  nie.  Thereafter 
I  addressed  myself  to  reading,  being  broke  up  for  the 
day  by  this  welcome  intcrniplic^n,  until  towards  three, 

when  I  bore  James  V on  liis  way  to  the  inn,  and 

returned  to  my  own  solitary  metd  ;  and  after  it  I  took 
myself  much  to  task  for  want  of  temperance,  which, 
after  all,  I  have  not  yet  attained  to.  It  is  a  saying  of 
one  of  the  Fathers,  '  In  a  full  belly  all  the  devils  dance,' 
and  Luther  used  to  say,  '  he  loved  music  after  dinner, 
because  it  kept  the  devils  out.'  But  I  believe  the  truth 
is,  that  temperance  wrought  by  the  >Spirit  is  the  only 
defence,  of  which  I  felt  this  day  the  lack,  although  my 
dinner  was  wholly  of  pea  soup  and  potatoes ;  but  I  took 
too  much,  and  was  ashamed  of  the  evil  thoughts  which 
have  dared  to  show  face  in  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
"I  prayed  the  Lord  to  strengthen  me  in  all  time 
commg  for  His  greater  glory,  and  proceeded,  about 
five,  on  my  way  to  Mr.  Barclay's,  Fleet  Market,  taking 
l)y  the  way  a  brother  of  Hall's,  whose  house  joins 
by  the  back  of  the  ehm-eli.  Oli,  Isabella,  how  frail 
we  are  !  There  was  a  sweet  l)oy  of  nine  years,  who 
had  never  ailed  anything  in  liis  Ufe,  brought  in  one 
day  to  the  jaws  of  death,  if  he  be  not  already  con- 
sumed of  it,  by  the  croup  ;  and  a  poor  family,  and,  I 
fear,  an  ignorant  one,  with  whom,  having  left  my 
prayers  and  lielp,  I  proceeded  on  my  way.  The  ])oy 
had  said,  '  Mother,  do  not  fret ;  I  must  die  some  time, 
and  I  wiU  go  to  heaven.'  So  would  patient  Edward 
have  said,  if  he  could  have  spoken  anything.    Love  not 


THE   SPIRIT    OF   A   FORMER   AGE.  347 

Margaret  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  spirit,  my  clearest 
wife.    I  went  with  fear  and  trembhng  to  Mr.  Barclay's, 
but  with  self-rebuke  that  I  had  not  made  it  a  day  of 
prayer  and  humihation  for  their  sakes.    I  had  besought 
the  Lord,  but  I  did  not  feel  that  He  was  found  of  me  ; 
and  I  had  meditated,  by  the  way,  this  one  thought, 
kindred  to  what  I  set  forth  in  my  last  letter,  '  That 
when  the  Holy  Ghost  departs  from  any  set  of  opinions, 
or  form  of  character,  they  mther  like  a  sapless  tree.' 
Witness  the  preaching  of  Scotland,  the  voice  of  the 
Spirit  of  a  former  age ;  witness  the  high-flying  Whigs 
of  the  Assembly,  the  armour-bearers  of  the  covenanting 
Whiss  of  the  Claim  of  Eights  ;  witness  the  radical  and 
political  dissenters  of  England,  the  mocldng-birds  of  the 
Nonconformists  ;    witness    the    High    Churchmen   of 
England,  who  pretend  to  maintain  what  Ridley,  and 
Latimer,  and  Hooper   embodied.     Aye,  there  is  the 
figure  ;  the  doctrine  is  the  vainest  when  the  Spirit  is 
gone.      Meditate,  Isabella,  this  deep  mystery  of  the 
spirit  in  man  quickened  by  the  Holy  Spirit.     I  had 
one  meditation  at  home,   '  That  immortal  souls,  not 
written    compositions,    nor   printed   books,  were   the 
primum  mobile  of  a  minister's  activity.'    I  found  father, 

and  mother,  and  two  sisters,  and  from  the  first  Mr.  B 

opened  his  doubts  and  difliculties  to  me,  by  teUiug  me 
that  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  enter  better  into  my 
new  subject  than  into  my  former,  but  declaring 
that  he  had  seen  new  views  of  his  sinfulness,  and 
brought  to  look  to  Christ  alone  for  salvation,  whom 
he  looked  upon  as  liis  Mediator,  Litercessor,  and  Ee- 
deemer,  but  could  not  see  as  equal  with  God,  though 
lie  was   God's   representative.      I  opened   the   great 


348  Tin:  LOST  sni:i':i\ 

mystorvas  T  could,  trllinir  liini  :il  the  same  time  it  was 
only  to  be  ojieiied  l)y  tlu'  Holy  k^pirit,  u[)oii  whose 
ollices  I  enlarged,  and  went  over  a  large  field  of 
demonstration  with  much  satisfaction  to  them  all,  and 
deep  emotion  with  the  two  daugliters,  whom  I  think 
the  Lord  our  God  is  callinLi-.  Then  we  cainc  to  speak 
of  dear  David's  death,  by  my  recital  of  which  they  were 
veiy  much  moved,  as  also  by  my  unlblding  tlie  blessed 
fruits  of  our  Edward's  removal.  He  has  been  much 
upon  my  mind  this  day.  Dearest,  I  think  light  is 
breaking  upon  Mr.  Barclay's  mhid.  Pray  for  him ;  he 
is  to  mark  his  dilTicuIties,  which  I  am  to  do  iny 
endeavour  to  clear  up.     When  I  returned,  here  waited 

]\Iiss  W and  a  'Mr.  M'Nicol,  from  Oban,  who,  with 

liis    wfe,   desired   the  ordinance Our  chapter 

was  the  first  seven  verses  of  the  fourteenth  of  Luke. 
AYliat  a  touching  appeal  that  parable  of  the  sheep  was 
for  the  poor  publican  to  the  Pharisees  ;  how  deli- 
cately reproved  they  were,  themselves  being  allowed  to 
be  as  men  who  needed  no  repentance  compared  with 
these  sinners  !  Grant  that  ye  are  the  unoffending,  un- 
strayed  children  of  the  house  ;  but  here  is  one  that  has 
ship^vrecked.  May  I  not  go  and  seek  him  as  ye  would 
a  strayed  sheep,  and,  if  he  return,  will  not  the  family 
forget  their  every-day  blessedness  in  a  tumult  of  joy  ? 
The  Lord  strengthened  me  in  prayer,  and  now  He 
hath  strengthened  me  in  this  writing  beyond  my  expec- 
tations. Kiss  our  beloved  child  for  her  father's  sake. 
I   heard  of   you   both    by   those    airy    tongues    that 

syllable  men's  names Fear  the  Lord,  my  wife, 

always  ;  fear  the  Lord  ! 

"  Wednesday,  23n/. — This  has  been  to  me  a  day 


THE    INFLUENCE   OF   THE    HOLY   SPIRIT.  349 

of  temptation  from  dulness  and  deadness  in  tlie 
divine  life.  I  know  not  whence  arising,  if  it  be  not 
from  want  of  more  patient  communion  with  God  in 
secret,  and  more  frequent  meditation  of  His  holy  Word. 
Oh,  Isabella,  there  is  no  abiding  in  the  truth  but  by 
the  indweUing  of  the  Holy  Spuit.  It  is  not  reasoning, 
or  knowledge,  or  admonition,  or  council,  or  watchful- 
ness, or  any  other  form  of  spiritual  carefulness  and 
abihty,  but  His  own  presence — His  own  Spirit,  quick 
and  hvely,  which  maketh  us  tender,  ready,  discerning, 
in  the  ways  of  righteousness  and  iniquity.  The  Spirit 
searcheth  all  things,  yea,  the  deep  things  of  God. 
Dearest,  mistrust  reasonings,  mistrust  examples,  mis- 
trust prudential  views,  mistrust  motives,  and  seek  for 
an  abiding,  a  constant  spuit  of  hohness,  which  shall 
breathe  of  God,  and  feel  of  God,  and  watch  in  God,  and 
care  in  God,  and  in  all  things  reveal  God  to  be  with  us 
and  in  us.  A  child  possessed  of  the  Holy  Spuit  is  wiser  to 
know  righteousness  from  iniquity  than  the  most  refined 
casuist  or  the  most  enhghtened  divine.  It  is  truly  a 
spiritual  administration,  the  present  administration  of 
our  souls,  and  we  see  but  as  tlrrough  a  glass,  but  after- 
wards face  to  face.  When  Christ,  who  is  our  life,  shall 
appear,  we  shaU  know  as  we  are  known.  Oh,  seek  a  pre- 
sence, an  ever-abiding  presence  of  the  Holy  One,  for 
yourself  and  your  husband  !  Yet,  though  heavy  in  soul, 
I  cried  to  the  Lord  very  often,  and  He  has  heard  my 
prayer.  I  know  that  we  shall  be  tried  with  various 
tribulations,  but  we  shall  not  be  prevailed  against. 
Wliile  I  was  occupied  constructing  my  morning  dis- 
course, Mr.  N came  in,  and  we  had  a  season  of 

brotherly  communion.     His  sisters  go  forward,  aU  the 


•A50  M:W    TlvSTAMHNT    IIISTOKV    OF    TlIK    CllUUCll. 

three,  willi  one  consent,  ami  bear  a  loving  licart  to  us 
and  to  all  the  people  of  God.  They  wished  books  to 
peruse,  and  I  reconnnended  to  them  Edwards'  History 
of  Redemption^  to  read  along  with  the  Old  Testament 
liistory  of  the  Church,  and  to  ])re})are  them  for  reading 
the  New  Testament  history  of  the  Church.  Oli,  that 
this  was  drawn  ii])  by  one  possessed  of  tlie  Spirit  of 
God,  and  not  the  spirit  of  history,  who,  in  a  short 
space  and  with  a  round  pen,  would  draw  it  out  after 
the  manner  of  the  books  of  Samuel  and  the  Chronicles, 
adjoming  to  it  specimens  of  tlie  most  pious  writings  of 
the  Fathers,  which  might  answer  to  the  history,  as  the 

])rophets  answer  to  the  Old  Testament  history 

I  also  opened  my  lecture,  which  is  to  treat  of  the  duty 
of  the  Church  to  support  its  ministers,  for  I  perceive 
that,  from  want  of  being  discoursed  of,  these  great 
rudimental  ideas  of  the  Church  have  changed  into  con- 
venient and  expedient  arrangements  of  human  -wisdom. 
"  I  dined  alone,  and  after  dinner  kept  on  with  the 
History  of  Eome,  whose  age  of  tumults  and  domestic 
seditions  I  have  arrived  at,  the  condition  of  people,  with 
plebeian  institutions,  who  have  lost  the  bond  of  religion, 
and  the  domestic  and  moral  obhgations  resting  on  it. 
That  tradition  is  remarkable  of  Julius  Ca3sar's  having 
the  \'Lsion  of  a  man  (jf  Lrreat  stature  and  remarkable 
appearance  inviting  him  to  cross  the  Eubicon,  which 
leaved  the  way  to  the  empire,  in  which  form  it  be- 
comes a  prophetic  object,  and  has  a  prophetic  character. 
I  have  resolved,  nevertheless,  to  throw  that  part  of  my 
book  *  which  derived  its  materials  from  the  l30ok  of 

*  Babylon  and  Infidelity  Foredoomed. 


THE   SOXS   OF   GOD    AND    THE    DAUGHTERS    OF   MEX.    351 

Esclras,  into  a  note,  lest  I  should  give  encouragement 
to  the  prudential  advocates  of  the  Apocrypha.     It  is 

there  that  Julius  Caesar  is  a  prophetic  character 

When  we  came  to  Mrs.  David's,  I  had  such  a  desire  to 
dehver  Brightwell  from  pohtical  leanuig  in  the  Slavery- 
Abolition  question,  for  I  find  they  are  to  a  man  gone  mto 
the  idea  that  Christianity  must  have  the  effect  of  mak- 
ing the  slaves  disquiet ;  that  is,  they  lean  so  much  to 
the  pohtical  question,  that  even  themselves  say,  until  they 
are  emancipated,  it  is  vain  that  you  seek  to  Christianize 
them.  Tliis  is  turnino-  round  with  a  vengeance  :  but  it 
is  so  everywhere.  Oh,  my  Isabella,  how  the  sons  of  God 
are  intermarrying  with  the  daughters  of  men  !  Every- 
where some  evil  spirit  is  seeldng  alliance  with  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Tliis  is  to  me  an  evidence  that  the  deluge  is  at 
hand.  Every  day  I  feel  more  and  more  alone,  and 
more  and  more  rooted  and  grounded  in  the  truth. 
The  Lord  make  me  faithful,  though  it  were  by  the  hating 
of  father,  and  mother,  and  brother,  and  my  own  life. 
William  Hamilton  sees  this  matter  as  I  do,  and  I  found 

Dr.  M saw  the  question  of  hberty  as  I  do  :  these  are 

the  only  two  concurrences  I  have  had  m  these  broad  and 
general  questions  since  I  came  to  visit  you.  But  I 
thank  God,  in  other  matters  of  a  private  and  personal 
kind,  I  am  at  one  with  aU  the  children  of  God.  Oil,  out 
of  what  a  pit  the  Lord  hath  brought  me !  How  I 
abhor  my  former  self  and  all  my  former  notions  !  I  was 
an  idolater  of  the  understanding  and  its  clear  con- 
ceptions ;  of  the  spirit,  the  paralysed,  duU,  and  benighted 
spirit,  with  its  mysterious  dawnings  of  infinite  and 
everlasting  truth,  I  was  no  better  than  a  blasphemer. 
Now  the  Lord  give  me  grace  to  bear  with  those  who  are 


35-2  WISDOM. 

■Nvliat  I  lately  was.  This  discourse  wore  mo  out,  niul, 
when  I  caine  to  church,  I  was  more  lit  for  a  couch  ami 
sileuce  ;  but  I  sought  strength,  and,  tliougli  I  could  not 
reach  the  sul)ject  in  all  its  extent — '  the  prince  of  this 
world  cometh,  and  hath  nothing  in  me ' — I  trust  I  was 
able  somewhat  to  put  the  people  on  their  guard  against 
Satan's  temptations,  and  establish  the  Church  in  Cluist, 

their  everlasting  strength 

'■'■  Thursday,  24ith In  tliis  record,  which  I  make 

daily  for  the  comfort  and  edification  of  my  dear  Avife, 
I  desire  God  to  be  my  witness  and  constant  guide,  lest 
I  should  at  any  time  consult  for  the  gratification  of  my 
own  vanity,  or  war}:)  truth  from  the  great  end  of  His 
^loiy,  and  the  comfort  of  His  saint.  And  may  He  not 
suffer  the  method  which  I  pursue,  of  personal  narrative, 
to  betray  me  into  any  egotism  or  self-preference  to  the 
prejudice  of  holy  truth  !     In  t lie  morning,  our  dear 

friend  B.  M came  to  breakfast,  bringing  (dihgent 

man !)  the  sheets  of  the  third  volume  of  Bacon  with  him. 
He  preferred  to  be  with  us  during  worship,  and  was 
veiy  much  affected,  as  I  judge,  by  our  simple  service. 
We  read  that  suVjlime  evaluation  of^visdom  in  the  Book 
of  Job  (xxviii.),  which  was  so  appropriate  to  our  dear 
friend's  mind,  though  it  came  in  course,  and  I  was  so 
stupid  and  dull,  or  overawed  by  his  presence,  as  not 
to  be  able  personally  to  apply  it.  Dearest  Isabella, 
what  a  passage  of  Holy  Writ  that  is !  What  a  chmax 
of  subUmity,  ranging  through  the  profound  mysteries 
of  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  the  knowledge  of  man 
and  all  his  most  valual)le  possessions,  and  through  the 
earth  and  the  hoary  deep,  and  through  death  and  the 
grave,  till  at  length  he  finds  it  in  the  simplicity  of 


FAKE  WELL    COUNSELS.  353 

spiritual  trutli : — '  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning 
of  wisdom,  and  to  depart  from  evil,  that  is  understand- 
ing.' It  is  equalled  by  the  nineteenth  chapter,  which  is 
in  the  pathetic  what  the  other  is  in  the  subhme ;  ex- 
pressing the  uttermost  dejection  and  desolation,  and 
from  the  depths  of  it  all  piercing  through  gloomy  time, 
and  hoary  ruin  and  waste,  to  the  resurrection,  when  he 
should  meet  the  Eedeemer  from  all  these  troubles,  and 
stand  before  Him  m  immortal  being.  My  dear  com- 
panion of  thought,  meditate  these  two  chapters  of  in- 
spiration ;  they  will  repay  you  well. 

"  The  four  German  missionaries  came  in  during  prayer, 
and  I  think  I  had  a  spirit  of  supphcation  granted  to  me 
in  interceding  for  their  sakes.  We  had  sweet  discourse 
during  breakfast.  I  tliink  our  dear  friend  is  melting  into 
sweeter  moods,  and  overcoming  himself  not  a  httle.  I 
trust,  by  the  grace  of  God,  to  see  him  a  disciple  of  the 
Lord,  humble  and  meek.  His  manner  to  me  is  utterly 
changed,  permitting  me  to  follow  my  own  manner  of 
discom'se  in  things  spiritual  and  divine.  When  break- 
fast was  finished,  I  left  him  and  James  together,  and 
brought  the  missionaries  into  the  Hbrary,  for  they  came 
to  take  leave.  Then  I  opened  to  them  the  condition 
of  the  world,  as  presented  to  us  in  the  prophecy,  and 
the  hopes  to  which  they  had  to  look  forward  ;  of  the 
falHng  '  of  the  cities  of  the  nations,'  that  is,  the  super- 
stitions of  the  world.  Then,  as  their  constant  en- 
couragement, I  read  them  the  seventeenth  chapter  of 
John :  their  Lord's  intercession  for  their  sakes,  wliich 
now  He  hath  power  also  to  accomplish,  if  they  have 
faith  in  him.  Oh,  Isabella,  it  seemed  to  me  a  rich  re- 
ward of  all  their  labours,  that  they  would  be  brought 

VOL.  I.  A  A 


354  A    FrNKRAl-. 

to  a  noniiT  aoquaintaiu'c  with  tliesc  most  precious 
apostolic  consolations,  tlu'  1  Itli,  l"»tli,  lOtli,  and  ITlli 
chapters  of  Jolm.  Then  I  recounted  to  them  my  own 
missionary  success  in  London,  tlie  liindrances  of  Satan, 
the  enmities  of  ni}'  countrymen  and  their  evil  reports, 
the  enemies  in  this  place,  and  wliatever  else  was  raised 
up  against  me,  in  order  to  acquaint  them  with  the 
wonderful  works  of  God  on  my  behalf,  unworthy  sinner, 
headstrong  rebel,  as  I  am.  Then  we  joined  in  prayer, 
and  I  besouuht  the  Tjord  to  be  for  home  and  friends, 
and  wisdom  and  strength  to  these  defenceless  sheep, 
which  were  about  to  go  forth  among  wolves.  I  made 
them  write  their  names  and  nativities  in  my  book,  chielly 
for  your  eye,  seeing  you  are  not  pennitted  to  see  them 
before  they  go.  I  do  again  pray  the  Lord  to  be  their 
guide  and  their  prosperity. 

"  By  this  time  the  mourning  coach  had  arrived,  to 
carry  me  to  the  funeral  of  my  beloved  son  in  the 
Gospel,   which    took    up,   by   Clerkenwell  church,    a 

Mr.  T ,  who,  with  his  ^vife,  are   hearers   in  my 

church ;  with  whom  also  I  returned,  and  was  enabled 
to  speak  clearly  to  his  soul,  without  any  shame- 
facedness,  and,  I  trust,  with  pastoral  love  and  fidelity. 
The  truth  drew  tears  from  his  eyes ;  whether  the 
Lord  may  bless  it  to  his  spirit.  He  who  is  wise  will 
'w^tness.  When  we  arrived,  there  were  several  assem- 
bled of  her   trusty  friends  and  nearest  kindred,  and 

among  others,  ^Ir.  A ,  the  counsellor.    He  began 

to  remind  me,  in  a  voice  httle  apt  to  mourning,  or 
mindful  of  the  sacredness  of  the  house  of  mourning, 
that  the  last  time  we  had  met  was  at  the  house  of 
feasting,  dining  with  the  lords  at  the  Old  Bailey ;  upon 


THE   JOY   OF   GRIEF.  355 

whicli  I  felt  it  my  duty,  in  order  to  overawe  worldly 
intrusions,  to  take  up  that  word  and  say  that  my  friend 
had  reminded  me  of  our  last  meeting  at-  the  house  of 
feasting,  and  that  as  it  would  have  been  thought 
very  mdecorous  then  to  have  obtruded  the  face  or 
feehng  of  sorrow,  so  tliis  house  of  sorrow  and  death 
had  also  its  rights,  which  did  not  bear  with  the  con- 
versation of  hvely  (minds)  and  worldliness ;  but  with 
humble  moods  and  downcast  spirits,  and  mourning  before 
the  Lord,  and  other  afflictive  conditions  of  the  soid ; 
and  when  it  was  a  Christian  who  was  taken,  and  from 
Christians  that  he  was  taken,  there  should  shine  upon 
the  troubled  waters  a  gleam  of  hght,  and  a  hope  of 
glory,  and  thankfulness,  and  joy  :  the  joy  of  grief  that 
he  had   escaped   the  troublous  and  chastening    deep. 

This  led  to  discourse  that  was  profitable Poor 

WiUiam  wept  very  sore,  but  always  sorest  when  I 
mingled  rehgious  warnings  to  him  and  counsels  ;  then 
he  turned  his  face  and  his  eyes  to  me,  as  we  walked 
together  in  the  churchyard,  and  wept  without  restraint, 
as  if  he  had  said,  Oh,  forsake  me  not,  forsake  me  not ! 
And  I  will  not  forsake  thee,  my  orphan  boy,  God  not 
forsaking  me.  It  drizzled  and  rained;  several  of  the 
congregation  were  waiting  there,  to  walk  behind  the 
company ;  and  when  he  was  lowered  into  the  grave,  I 
stood  forth  to  declare  the  conquest  of  death  and  the 
grace  of  God,  in  the  faith  of  our  brother,  and  exhorted 
the  people  to  be  of  a  good  and  constant  faith,  after 
which  we  prayed  and  departed  to  our  homes  and  occu- 
pations, I  trust  not  without  motions  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  a  better  life.  Then  applying  myself  to  study  what 
short  mterval    was  left  me,    I  proceeded  to  Bedford 

A    A    2 


856  '•  MANA(iKMKXT. 

^quan' On   my  Avay,  T  called  at  'Mv.  II 's, 

aiul  foiiiul  the  old  iiiaii  ixrowiim  worse;  but  he  would 
not  see  me.  *That  is  veiy  i^eniarkable.  I  gather  that 
lie  sees  liis  ])artner.  Dare  lie  not  bear  my  probe  ?  It 
is  wont   to  be  very  gentle  ;  but  she  is  a  saint  growing 

fast 

"/V/<A/y,  2o//<  November. — This  morning  I  arose 
rather  worn  and  weary I  have  all  day  expe- 
rienced that  trial  which  many  have  continually,  of  a 
troublous  body,  but  am  better  now  at  night.  This 
condition  of  my  body  and  mind  was  not  relieved  by 
many  mterruptions,  while  I  had  upon  me  the  weight  of 
two  discourses.     First,  I\Ir.  Hamilton  bringing  me  the 

tichngs  of  ]\Ii\  n 's  illness ;  then  Mr.  ^Vllyte,  who 

called   by  appointment ;    then  Mr.  Dinwiddie  posting 

with  the  same  account  of  Mr.  H .  I  would  they 

would  help  me,  not  beat  me  up  as  if  I  were  slothful, 
when  my  poor  soul  is  like  to  languish  with  too  mucli 
exertion.  But  fonnality,  formahty,  thou  art  man's 
scourge !  and  thou,  spirit  of  truth  and  duty,  thou  art 
man's  comforter !  ]\Iy  elders  have  a  nice  idea  of  things 
being  rightly  managed,  I  wish  they  had  the  spirit  of 
it ;  and  I  think  that  also  is  grooving.     Then  came  Miss 

D with  tlie  same  tidings  ;  and  though  I  was  in  the 

midst  of  weakness  ^vith  such  a  load  on  my  mind,  I  went 
my  ways  with  my  papers  in  my  pocket,  having  to  meet 

Mr.  W at  'Mr.  Dinwiddie's  at  dinner.     I  found  Mr. 

IT shut  himself  up  from  my  visits,  although  he  saw 

both  his  medical  man  and  his  mercantile  partner.  I 
pray  the  Lord  to  be  his  Shepherd  and  comfort  in  my 
stead ;  and  we  prayed  in  the  adjoining  room,  and  after- 
wards I  came  down-stairs  to  study,  being  puqiosed  to 


DETERIORATION.  357 

wait  as  lona;  as  I  could.    Towards  four  Mrs.  H came 

to  me,  and  we  had  much  discourse  with  one  another. 
She  told  me  of  the  saintly  character  of  her  father,  and 

of  Mr.  H 's  grandfather Why  are  there  no 

such  saints  in  Scotland  now  ?  Because  their  wine  is 
mingled  with  water  —  their  food  is  debased.  It  will 
nourish  men  no  longer,  but  dwarflings.  Oh,  Scotland ! 
oh,  Scotland!  how  I  groan  over  thee,  thou,  and  thy  child- 
ren, and  thy  poverty-stricken  church  !  Thy  Humes  are 
thy  Knoxes,  thy  Thomsons  are  thy  Melvilles,  thy  pubhc 
dinners  are  thy  sacraments,  and  the  speeches  which 
attend  them  are  the  ministrations  of  their  idol.  And 
the  misfortune,  dearest,  is  that  the  scale  is  falling  every- 
where in  proportion,  ministers  and  people,  cities  and 
lonely  places  ;  so  that  it  is  hke  going  into  the  Shetland 
Islands,  where,  though  you  have  the  same  plants,  they 
are  aU  dwarfed,  and  the  very  animals  dwarfed,  and  the 
men  also.  So  valuable  is  pure,  unadulterated  doctrine  ; 
so  valuable  is  pure  faithful  preaching ;  so  valuable  is 
simple  faith,  and  a  single  eye  to  the  glory  of  God. 
How  well  the  state  of  our  Church,  nay,  of  the  Christian 
Church  in  general,  is  described  by  the  account  of  the 
Laochcean  Church.  It  almost  tempts  me  to  think  more 
of  the  idea  that  these  seven  Churches  are  emblems 
of  the  seven  ages  of  the  Christian  Church,  to  the  last 
of  which  men  are  now  arrived.  My  dear,  if  this  is  to 
be  reformed,  if  it  is  to  be  withstood,  and  I  have  faith 
to  undertake  it,  I  think  I  must  stand  alone,  for  I  can 
get  no  sympathy  amongst  my  brethren.  Dr.  Gordon 
even  has  not  had  this  revealed  to  him  ;  and  for  Dr. 
Chalmers,  he  is  immersed  in  civil  pohty  and  political 
economy,  a  kind  of  purse-keeper  to  the  Church  Apos- 


.i.,.s  TiiK  m:w  ciirKcii. 

tolir.  Ami  lor  Antln-w  Thomson,  lie  is  ;i  i;l;idiator  of 
iIk-  intellcrt,  his  wcMiioiis  being  never  .spiritnul,  but  in- 
tellectual merely,  and  lliesc  (if  an  inferior  order, —  no- 
thing equal  to  those  that  are  in  the  field  against  him.  Of 
these  things  1  -Am  enhnly  convinced  ;  f«^r  these  things  I 
am  truly  troubled  ;  and  to  be  helj)!!!!  to  tlie  removal  of 
these  things,  I  i)ray  God  for  strength  continually.  You 
must  be  a  heli)meet  for  me  in  this  matter  as  in  other  mat- 
ters, and,  I  pray  you,  for  that  as  well  as  for  your  own 
blessedness,  seek  tlie  purity  of  the  faith,  the  sincere  milk 
of  the  Word,  that  you  may  grow  thereby.  So  I  counselled 

dear   IMi's.   II ,  when  she  looked  out  iVoiii  those 

eyes  so  full  of  sorrow,  so  full  of  doubt,  so  full  of  sup- 
plication, and  gave  mo  her  cold  hand  again  and  again, 
and  often  asking  that  I  would  remember  them  in  my 
in'ayer. 

"I  walked  melancholy  enough  along  Burton  Cres- 
cent, to  see  the  church  for  the  second  time,  which  is 
now  up  to  the  level  of  the  first  windows,  indeed 
above  it,  and  in  front  the  yellow  stones  are  showing 
themselves  above  the  ground,  and  when  it  is  finished  I 
doul)t  not  it  will  be  a  seemly  building.  But  may  the 
Lord  fill  it  with  the  glory  of  His  own  spiritual  presence, 
and  endow  iiic  with  gifts  to  watch  over  the  thousands 
who  are  to  assemble  therein  !  or  raise  up  some  other 
more  worthy,  and  take  me  to  His  rest.  Ah !  how  for- 
mality hath  worn  out  the  excellent  faculties  of  the 
females  at  Burton  Crescent,  and  the  continual  longing 
for  that  state  and  rank  whence  they  have  fallen  !  Oh, 
how  thou  dost  skilfully  take  thy  game,  thou  spirit  of 
delusion  !  Oh  Lord,  dehver  Thou  their  feet  out  of  the 
net,  I  do  humbly  pray  Thee  ;   and  give  me  grace  to  be 


MINISTERIAL    LIBERTY.  359 

found  faithful  in  tliis  city  of  the  dead.  After  dinner  I 
opened  my  mouth  to  them  all — Mr.  Woodrow,  Hamil- 
ton, Virtue,  Aitchison — expounding  to  them  the  doctrme 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  withered  trunk  of  form, 
ceremony,  and  mere  doctrine  which  remained  when  He 
was  gone ;  illustrating  it  by  all  things  m  which  there  was 
once  a  spirit  of  hohness,  and  which,  during  the  last  cen- 
tury, the  most  unspiritual,  I  think,  we  ever  have  had, 
faded  away  out  of  every  thing ;  whereby  we  are  become 
these  meagre  skeletons  of  saints  and  ministers  which  I 
lamented  over.  They  had  nothing  to  say  in  reply,  and, 
if  I  might  judge,  were  a  good  deal  impressed  with  what 
I  had  testified.  The  Lord  give  it  fruit !  Mr.  Woodrow 
and  I  came  away  at  eight  o'clock,  and  I  bore  him  com- 
pany through  Eussell  Square.  I  think  he  is  likely  to  be 
elected*,  but  it  is  by  no  means  certain  yet.  The  elders 
have  been  telling  him  that  he  must  be  more  plain,  as 
they  are  plain  people  ;  that  is,  he  must  not  leave  their 
beaten  track  ;  and  that  he  must  be  shorter ;  that  is, 
not  interrupt  their  family  arrangements  of  dinner,  &c, ; 
and  that  he  must  be  more  explicit  in  discourse,  in  order  to 
gratify  their  cleske  of  mere  fragments  of  knowledge,  in- 
stead of  receiving  the  living  continuity  of  spirit  and  soul 
which  a  discourse  ought  to  be.  Oh,  that  cutting  of  truth 
into  bits  is  like  dividing  the  body  into  fragments !  death, 
death  unto  it !  The  truth  should  breathe  continuous  ; 
the  spirit  of  truth  should  inspire  every  member  of  a 
discourse,  instead  of  our  having  it  in  those  cold,  hfeless 
limbs  of  abstract  intellectual  proportions.  How  your 
father  would  laugh  at  this  !  Nevertheless,  tell  him  it  is 
truth,  though  ill-expressed  in  my  present  feebleness  of 

*  As  minister  of  one  of  tlie  Scotch  churches  in  London. 


.SGO  DRKAMS   OF    EDWAIJI). 

conoeption.  T  told  Wocnlrow  if  lu'  yieldeil  ;i  scruple 
of  his  ininis(on;il  liberty  I  "woukl  call  him  brother  no 
more,  but  impeaeli  him  of  treason  to  tlie  Great  Prophet. 
Nevertlieless,  I  eneouraged  him  to  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  he   was  a   little    east  down.      I  eame  home  by  Mr. 

11 "s,  and   found  him  as  1  had  left  him  ;  but  saw 

her  not — only  comforted  poor  Agnes,  whom  I  met 

in  tlie  passage.     Miss  W came  to  prayers,  and  I 

trust  the  Lord  was  with  us.  The  greater  part  of  tlic 
afternoon  I  devoted  to  your  ear,  Tibby,  wliicli  is  to 
me  more  sweet  audience  tlian  tlie  ear  of  princes  or 
of  learned  men.     Fare  thee  well ! 

"  Saturday,  2Gth  November. — Yesterday  and  yester- 
night, dearest  wife,  I  had  many  thoughts  of  our  departed 
son,  oui'  first-born,  and  I  was  able  to  use  David's  words 
in  the  Psalm  of  that  night,  '  Thy  judgments,  0  Lord, 
are  just,  and  in  righteousness  hast  thou  afflicted  me.' 
My  dreams  brought  you  and  little  Margaret  before  me, 
and  I  said.  Dear  Isabella,  it  is  little  Edward  ;  and  was 
not  undeceived  till  I  saw  her  small  black  eyes  instead 
of  his  full-orbed  blue,  whose  loving  kindness  was  so 
dear  to  me  even  in  death.  But  my  dreams  withal 
were  very  pleasant,  and  not  afflicted  with  evil  sugges- 
tions. This  morning  I  have  arisen  fresh  and  hvely, 
and  have  already  neaily  finished  my  discourses ;  and 
now,  at  three  o'clock,  am  hastening  to  cover  this  sheet 
with  sweet  thoughts  for  your  dear  mind,  that  you  may 

receive  it  l)efore  leaving  Fife.     Mr.  H is  no  more 

in  this  world.  He  died  aljout  eleven  o'clock,  and  I 
liave  now  a  letter  from  dear  Agnes.  ^May  the  Lord 
comfort  the  widow  and  the  fatherless  !  I  think  I  shall 
have  time,  after  fmishing  tliis,  to  hasten  down,  though 


THE    SPIEIT    OF   PRAYER.  3G1 

it  were  but  for  a  few  minutes.  Oli,  Isabella!  put 
nothing  off,  my  dearest,  put  nothing  off ;  have  nothing 
to  do,  have  all  besought,  have  all  believed,  have  all 
done,  and  live  quietly  unto  eternity !  Say  so  to  your 
dear  father  and  mother,  and  all  the  family.  We  know 
not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  If  you  be  languid, 
then  cry  for  help  ;  if  you  be  under  bondage,  cry  for 
deliverance ;  and  abide  believing,  abide  behoving ; 
opening  your  heart  to  the  admonitions  of  the  Holy 
One  —  your  ear  to  admonitions  of  every  faithful  one. 
Turn  aside  from  hes,  from  flattery,  from  vanity  and  folly. 
Be  earnest,  be  grave — always  ready.  There  will  be  no 
folly,  nor  laughter,  nor  bedimming  of  truth  with  false 
appearances,  nor  masquerading,  in  eternity.  But  I 
return.  After  prayer,  in  which  I  seek  the  spirit  of 
prayer  above  all  requests,  for  my  soid  wanders  ;  there 
is  an  under-current  of  feeling,  and  even  of  thinking. 
It  is  very  amazing  we  can  speak  to  God  so,  and  not  to 
any  mortal.  I  am  oft  to  seek  for  an  answer  to  man, 
when  I  am  thinking  of  another  matter ;  but  I  dare 
speak  to  God,  though  I  am  thinking  of  another  matter. 
Oh !  what  is  this,  my  dear  Isabella  ?  It  is  very  lamen- 
table, and  I  lament  it  very  much.  The  Lord  doth  not 
hear  us  because  we  ask  amiss.  JSTow,  my  dear  wife, 
make  it  for  yourself  and  myself  a  constant  prayer  that 
we  may  have  the  spirit  of  prayer  and  supplication 
bestowed  upon  us ;  rather  pause  to  recover  the  soul, 
than  hurry  on  in  a  stream  of  words.  I  take  it  this 
must  be  still  more  felt  by  those  who  use  forms,  and 
that  this  is  one  of  the  chief  advantages  of  the  disuse 
of  forms  :  but  no  means  will  charm  forth  the  evil 
heart   of  unbelief     He   only  who   hath  aU  power  in 


:JG2  ■'  MV    DLMFlilESSUlKE. 

lu'uvoh  and  eartli  is  able  —  uur  Saviour  and  our  Ij^)rd. 
N()W  I  liad  aliiUKst  rorujotlcn  that  this  is  the  day  before 
your  coniniunion.  It  is  stormy  liere,  may  it  be  quiet 
with  you;  and  to  tlie  siiints  miiy  it  be  a  day  oi"  much 
refrei^liincnt !  .  .  .  . 

"  Now.  Avitli  respect  to  your  jounicy,  if  you  set  out  on 
Thui-sday  you  must  not  go  fartiier  than  Dumfries  tliat 
week  ;  and  tlien  open  your  mind  to  Margaret  and 
James  Fergusson  concerning  the  tilings  of  the  Spirit. 
I3c  not  filled  with  ajjprehensions  about  baby.  The 
Lord  will  prove  your  shield  and  hers.  There  is  nothing 
will  interest  you  till  you  come  to  the  edge  of  my  Dum- 

friesshii'e After  you  go  through  Thorn) lill  you 

pass  the  Campbell  Water Then,  as  you  come  to 

the  Shepherd's  bar,  you  are  upon 'Allan  Cumiingham's 
calf-ground,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  scene  worthy  of  the 

Trosachs Within   four  miles  of  Dumfries  you 

pass  through  a  village.  That  village  my  uncle  Bryce 
f()unded  for  the  people  at  the  time  of  the  French  Ke- 
volution,  when  he  w^rote  a  book  on  Peace^  seeing  well 
that  the  spirit  of  anarchy  was  out ;  and  a  half-mile  further 
( )n  you  will  see  Ilolywood  Manse,  a  bow-shot  from  the 
road,  and  the  chm^ch,  where  my  uncle  and  aunt  he  side 

Ijy  side Now,  f(jr  the  rest,  you  will  find  a  letter 

waiting  you  at  Dumfries The  Lord  guard  you 

on  your  journey,  and  temper  tlie  blast  to  the  little 

darling It  is  now  past  four,  and  I  hasten  to 

salute  Mrs.  H .  widow,  with   the  blessing  of  her 

liusband,  and  the  children,  or]^)hans,  with  the  blessing  of 
their  father.    Be  at  peace,  full  of  faith  and  blessedness ! 

*-*■  Saturday ^2^jth  November. — After  putting  your  letter 
in  the  post-office,  and  still  without  any  uplifting  of  the 


PARALYTIC    IN   SOUL.  363 

soul  that  it  might  be  safely  conveyed  to  you,  and 
arrive  in  good  season  (so  doth  custom  eat  out  piety), 

I  went  dkectly  to  the  H 's;  Mrs.  H ,  the  most 

composed,  being  manifestly  full  of  faith,  and  by  faith 
supported  ;  and  I  felt  moved  with  much  fellow-feehng. 
She  spoke  of  his  kindness  to  all — of  liis  charity  to  the 
poor — of  his  constant  cheerfulness  m  a  most  perplexing 
and  tried  life — of  his  faith  in  Christ,  though  it  had  little 
outward  appearance, — of  all  which  I  was  well  pleased 
to  hear.  We  then  went  upstairs,  and,  having  assem- 
bled the  family,  I  sought  to  apply  to  them  the  130th 
Psalm  and  the  4th  and  5th  of  1st  Thessalonians : 
showing  them  that  the  only  hope  was  in  Christ  Jesus 
either  for  themselves  or  the  departed.    Then  I  proceeded 

to  Mr.  W ,  and  received  Mr.  Bell's  instructions  for 

you.  The  place  is  Bossal,  near  York.  .  .  .  You  must 
go  to  the  George  Inn,  York,  which  is  the  posting- 
house,  and  take  a  post-chaise  to  tlie  house,  where  you 
are  expected  with  much  delight ;  and  may  it  be  de- 

lightfid  to  us  all.    Mrs.  W is  better.    We  had  very 

sweet  discourse,  in  which  I  was  enabled  to  maintain 
faithfully  the  truth, — I  fear,  not  so  much  in  the  love 
of  it  as  I  could  desire.  And,  oh  !  I  am  pressed  with 
the  desire  of  nearer  communion  to  the  di\dne  throne ! 
There  is  something  in  my  spirit  very  paralytic  there. 
Oh,  that  I  could  pray  unto  the  Lord — even  with  what 
aflfectiou  I  write  these  letters !  I  do  earnestly  pray  the 
Lord  to  take  the  veil  off  my  heart,  and  I  believe  in 
ffood  time  He  will.  .  .  .  Now  I  o;o  to  seek  the  Lord  in 
secret  for  us  all.     Farewell! 

'■'■Sunday^  27th  November. — I  have  reason  to  bless 
the  Lord,  my  dear  Isabella,  for  His  strengthening  and 


;JG4     iNDr.n-rniKi'.NT  di'  Tii(n"(iiiT  dlklnc;   riiAVKij. 

encouniirinL'  presence  this  day,  hotli  in  the  ministry  of  (lie 
^\  orcl  and  df  i)r:iy<'i- ;  wliicli  1  rt'ceive  as  His  wondei-- 
ful  patienee  with  luv  unworlhiiK'ss,  and  as  a,  siu'n  thai 
His  hand  is  towards  nic  for  y-ood.  In  the  nioi-nin<j[ 
prayer  I  was  better  al)h»  to  ahstrart  my  sonl  from  mid(>r 
tliouglit.s  nnd  to  stand  with  my  people  before  the  Lord. 
I  luive  been  led  to  think  more  concerninLr  that  nnder- 
current  of  thought  during  prayer,  and  I  perceived  it  to 
be  owing  to  our  infidelity.  The  living  and  true  God, 
Avitli  His  acts  and  attributes,  is  not  present  to  our 
spirit ;  but  our  own  ideas  of  Ilim,  and  customs  of  dis- 
course, Avhich  the  mind  presents  while  thinking  of  other 
things,  as  it  doth  in  many  other  cases.  .  .  .  Therefore 
it  is  the  aw^e  of  God's  presence — the  reality  of  His  pre- 
sence— by  which  the  soul  is  to  be  cured  of  this  evil — this 
lieinous  evil.  It  is  the  feeHng  of  this  want  which  has 
introduced  pictures  and  statues  among  the  Catholics, 
and  I  take  it  to  be  the  same  whicli  makes  the  Episco- 
palian attached  to  forms.  But  nothing  will  do,  dear, 
but  His  own  presence — the  presence  of  His  own  in- 
visible Spirit  in  om-  hearts,  crying  unto  our  Father 
Avhich  is  in  heaven.  Prayer,  my  deaiY'st,  is  the  c(jni- 
plaiiit  of  the  ILjly  Spiiit  under  His  incarnation  in  our 
liearts.  Our  chaptx'.r  in  the  morning  was  the  5th  of 
Hebrews,  comprehendmg  Christ's  priesthood.  But  I 
find  I  have  not  strength  for  unfolding  these  high  mat- 
ters. My  beloved,  fare  thee  well !  My  baby,  the  bless- 
ing of  the  Lord  upon  thee  ! 

"Li  considermg  the  priestly  office  of  Christ,  be  at 
])ains  to  separate  it  from  the  ])rophetic.  .  .  .  My  dis- 
<:ourse  was  on  justification  by  failli  alone.  .  .  .  And  I 
c<jncluded  with  exhortations  to  humilil}-,  and  an  abiding 


MONEY,  THE    UNIVERSAL   FALSEHOOD,  365 

sense  of  the  Saviour's  righteousness,  and  of  our  own 
wickedness,  and  of  a  new  principle  derived  from  the 
former  which  should  be  generative  of  a  set  of  works 
truly  good,  truly  holy,  truly  blessed.  In  the  evening  I 
read  the  sweet  and  picturesque  account  of  Isaac's 
courting,  and  took  occasion  to  press  the  fidehty  of  the 
servant  in  all  points,  and  to  point  out  the  verisimilitude 
which  the  narrative  bore  with  the  manners  of  the  ages 
nearest  to  those  times.  I  discoursed  concerning  the 
duty  of  the  Church  to  their  ministers  in  respect  to 
support ;  yet  handhng  the  subject  largely  and  widely, 
with  the  view  of  demonstrating  the  total  disproportion 
between  moral  and  spiritual  services  and  pecuniary  re- 
wards,— showing  them  my  favourite  maxim,  that  money 
is  the  universal  falsehood,  and  the  universal  corruption, 
when  we  use  it  for  discharging  obhgations  contracted 
by  spiritual  or  moral  services.  For  example,  if  you 
think  the  wage  discharges  you  of  your  obligation  to 
Mary,  you  are  deceived  out  of  so  much  spiritual  feehng 
as  should  have  repaid  her,  and  corrupted  into  a  world- 
ling ;  and  so  if  Mary  were  to  thmk  her  obligations 
discharged  by  works ;  and  so  of  all  gi\dng  of  gifts  to 
express  sentiments.  They  do  express  the  sentiment, 
but  discharge  it  they  can  never.  This  was  a  very 
fertile  topic  of  discom^se,  and  full  of  warning  to  the 
worldly  people.  There  were  very  large  congregations 
to  hear,  and  I  trust  they  were  edified.  Our  service 
extended  to  three  hours  in  the  morning,  and  two 
hours  and  a  half  in  the  evening,  and  I  find  I  cannot 
relax.  .  .  . 

"  Monday^  2Sth. — This  morning  Sottomayor  the  sol- 
dier was  with  us,  and  James  and  I,  partly  of  charity, 


:l6n  LESSON'S    IX    SPAXISII. 

partly  oi  Miu'niuon  to  the  old  S]Kmish  character  and 
litoralurc,  have  agreed  to  take  lessons  iu  Si)anish  at 
seven  every  morning,  which  will  curtail  this  letter. 
So  we  liave  provided  us  in  IJibles,  with  which  we  are 
to  begin,  and  afterwards  we  shall  read  Don  Quixote. 

....  Tlien  tlierc  c«ame  Mr.  ]\[ io  read  Avith  me 

the  Greek  Testament,  and  we  gave  ourselves  to  the 
Cth  chapter,  which  I  will  open  to  you  in  some  other 
place.  I  think  the  Lord,  by  the  help  of  Father  Simon, 
hath  enabled  liie  to  understand  it.     Oh,  I  thank  God 

for  the  change  upon  that  young  man!     Even  P , 

who  is  very  judicious,  and  was  with  him  an  hour  alone, 
could  disceni  in  him  no  superciliousness  nor  conceit. 
He  is  very  docile,  and  is  to  come  eveiy  Monday  for  an 
hour  or  two.  I  hope  to  do  for  him  what  others  have 
done  for  me.  ... 

"  Tuesday,  2Wi. — Last  night  I  endured  the  temptation 
of  many  evil  thoughts  and  imaginations,  which  the 
good  Spirit  of  God  enabled  me  to  overcome,  althougl 

it  was  a  great  trouble  and  vexation  to  my  soul 

Such  an  almighty  and  infinite  work  is  the  sanctiiica- 
tion  of  the  soul !  Our  Lord  hath  said,  '  Satan  cometh 
and  findeth  nothing  in  me.'  Alas  !  how  otherwise  with 
us !  The  Holy  Spirit  cometh  and  findeth  nothing  in 
us !  .  ,  .  What  a  work  is  the  sanctification  of  a  soul ! 
It  is  second  only  to  its  redemption ;  and  to  that  second 
only  in  place  and  order,  not  in  degree.  Li  the  morning, 
we  started  at  seven  o'clock  to  the  Book  of  Samuel,  and 
made  out  one  chapter  with  Giuseppe  Sottomayor,  wlio 
commends  himself  more  and  more  to  my  esteem  as  a 
man  of  true  principle  and  piety.  I  think  the  work  of 
conviction  goes  on  in  his  mind.     He  breakfasted  and 


!l 


THE   WINGS   OF    LOVE.  367 

worshipped  with  us ;  after  which  I  came  to  my  study, 
and  did  not  rise,  except  to  snatch  a  portion  of  dinner, 
till  five  o'clock.  In  that  time  I  did  httle  else  than 
study  a  chapter  in  the  Hebrew  Bible,  and  read  Poole's 
Synopsis  upon  it,  which  is  written  in  Latin,  with 
abundant  Hebrew  and  Greek  quotations,  that  occupy 
me  well — insomuch  that,  if  my  time  -will  allow,  I  pur- 
pose doing  the  same  daily.  For  I  fell  in  with  a 
dictionary,  which  I  can  consider  little  else  than  a  pro- 
vidential gift,  in  two  handy  httle  quarto  volumes, — a 
Latin  dictionary,  which  renders  the  word  into  Hebrew, 
Greek,  French,  Itahan,  German,  Spanish,  Dutch ;  so 
that  it  is  to  me  a  continual  assistance  of  the  memory, 
besides  affording  a  perpetual  dehght  in  tracing  the 
diversity  and  analogy  of  languages,  in  which  I  had 
always  great  pleasure.  .  .  .  During  my  sohtary  study 
I  received  two  sweet  interruptions — one  in  the  shape 
of  a  messenger  from  a  far  country,  coming  from  one 
dear  to  you,  but  dearer  to  me,  and  who  loves  me  too 
well  to  love  herself  well.  Now,  who  is  that  ?  and  who 
is  that  messenger  ?  A  riddle  which  I  take  you  to  re- 
solve. .  .  .  The  messenger  was  from  yourself,  in  the 
shape  of  a  letter,  laying  out  yoiu-  plans  of  travel,  and 
making  merry  with  my  scheme.  Now  Kant's  Meta- 
physics was  not  in  my  mind,  but  that  better  authority, 
the  road-book.  For  you  must  know  that,  setting  off  on 
Monday  morning,  I  can  be  in  York,  you  at  Bossal,  to 
breakfast  on  Tuesday.  ...  So  that  you  see  there  is 
neither  Kantian  negation  of  space  and  time,  nor  the 
wings  of  love,  in  the  matter ;  but  simple,  prosaic,  stage- 
coach locomotion.  .  .  .  Being  so  far,  I  went  on  to  Bed- 
ford Square.  .  .  .  But  there  is  no  getting  a  spfritual 


368  rAl{Ani.ES. 

(lisooiii*sc  mjiintained  :  you  can  but  set  il  foiili  in  into]- 
loctual  j)anil)K's,  wliii'li  aro  notliing  so  elliciciit  as  (lie 
j)anibles  for  tlio  sense  whicli  (Uir  Ivoid  was  accustomed 
to  use.  ]5ut,  dearest,  we  must  eitlier  speak  in  parables 
to  the  world,  or  we  must  be  silent ;  or  we  must  present 
a  wrv  and  deceptive  form  n\'  truth  ;  or  we  must  cast 
our  pearls  before  swine.  Of  which  choice  the  first  is  to 
be  prefeiTed,  and  our  Lord  therefore  adopted  it.  Be- 
cause a  parable  is  truth  veiled,  not  truth  dismembered  ; 
and  as  the  eye  of  the  understanding  grows  more 
piercing,  the  veil  is  seen  through,  and  the  truth  stands 
revealed.  Now,  parables  are  infinite  ;  besides  those  to 
the  imagination,  they  are  to  the  intellect  in  the  way  of 
argument,  to  the  heart  in  the  way  of  tender  expression 
and  action,  and  to  the  eye  in  the  way  of  a  pure  and 
virtuous  carriage.  And  the  whole  visible  demonstration 
of  Chiistian  life  is,  as  it  were,  an  allegorical  way  of 
preaching  truth  to  the  eyes  of  the  world  ;  whether  it 
be  -wisdom  in  discourse,  or  charity  in  feeling,  or  holiness 
in  action.  But  I  wander.  I  returned  home  about 
seven,  and  addressed  myself  to  write  my  action  sermon  * ; 
but  found  myself  too  ftitigued  to  conceive  or  express 
aught  worthy  of  the  subject — '  Do  this  in  remembrance 
of  me' — and  I  know  not  whether  anytliing  may  be 
jnelded  to  me  this  night  worthy  of  it.  ...  I  trust  our 
meeting  may  be  blessed  to  add  gilts  to  us  mutually. 
I  am  truly  happy  to  anticipate  it  so  much  sooner. 

"You  are  now  among  my  dear  kindred,  who  I  know 
will  be  very  kind  to  you,  for  your  own  sake  and  for 
mine.     I  owe  them  all  a  great  debt  of  love  and  affeo- 

*  The  name  vumally  given  in  Scotland  to  tlie  sermon  preaclied 
before  the  communion. 


TOKENS   OF   GOD'S    BLESSING.  369 

tion,  which  I  shall  never  be  able  to  repay.  I  look  to 
you  to  drop  seasonable  words  into  their  ears,  especially 
concerning  their  salvation  and  their  little  ones.  For 
nothing  is  so  fatal  to  Scotland  as  lethargy.  I  trust  they 
are  not  nominal  Christians ;  but  I  would  fain  have 
deeper  convictions  of  so  important  a  matter.  I  pray 
you  not  to  yield  anything  to  your  natural  kindness  at 
the  expense  of  your  health,  and  risk  of  the  infant ;  but 
in  all  things,  as  before  the  Lord,  to  take  the  steps 
which  you  judge  the  best,  looldng  to  His  blessing.  To 
tliis  also  I  charge  you  by  your  love  and  obedience  to 
me.  This  day  is  very  fine.  I  hope  you  are  on  your 
journey ;  and  I  earnestly  pray  you  may  travel  as 
Abraham  did,  at  every  resting-place  settmg  up  an  altar 
to  God  in  your  heart.  We  remember  you  night  and 
morning  in  our  prayers ;  and  I  trust  that  the  Lord 
will  graciously  hear  us.  At  Annan  I  have  nothing  for 
you  to  say  particularly,  but  to  assure  them  of  my  most 
dutiful  love  and  constant  prayers,  and  to  entreat  them 
not  to  slumber.  .  .  .  The  Lord  bring  you  in  safety  to  my 
bosom,  and  to  your  home.  I  know  you  will  care  for 
Mary  in  everything  as  one  of  the  family,  and  bound  to 
us  by  many  acts  of  faithfuhiess  and  love. 

"  Wednesday,  oOth  November. — My  dear  Isabella,  I 
am  daily  loaded  with  the  tokens  of  the  Lord's  goodness, 
which  I  regard  with  the  more  wonder  and  gratitude,  as 
I  have  been  this  week  more  than  ordinarily  tried  with 
inward  trials ;  and  to  receive  tokens  of  love  from  a 
friend,  when  we  are  wavering  in  our  fealty,  is  also 
always  very  full  of  rebuke.  But  I  have  withstood 
Satan  according  to  my  ability,  and  he  hath  not  been 
allowed  to  prevail  over  me,  nor  will,  I  trust,  by  the 

VOL.  L  B  B 


nro     iRvixcs  axxikty  arovt  his  wifks  jouuxhv. 

coutimuuico  of  unfailiuLr  prayers So  you  sec, 

my  dear,  what  tokens  1  lia\i'  of  the  Lord's  blessing; 
there  are  not  fewer  tlian  thirty-five  wlio  liavc  come 
seeking  to  be  joined  to  the  Cliureli  at  tliis  time;  and 
no  other  season  liavc  I  observed  tlie  same  zeal,  and 
intelligence,  and  faitli.  Oh,  that  tlie  Lord  for  their 
sakes  would  furnish  me  ^vith  good !  I  lament  much 
that  so  few  of  the  Scotch  youths  arc  diawn.  I  think 
there  is  not  much  above  one-third  Scotchmen.  I  trust 
the  Lord  will  draw  near  to  them.  I  think  they  can 
hardl}^  fail  either  to  leave  the  congregation  altogether, 
or  to  join  the  Church,  my  preaching  has  been  of  late  so 
separating.  .  .  .  This  letter  will  reach  you  at  Annan, 
where,  individually  and  collectively,  I  pray  my  dutiful 
affection  and  ministerial  blessing  to  be  given  by  you. 
Farewell !  and  may  the  Lord  be  your  shade  to-morrow 
in  your  journey  southward ! 

"  TJiursday,  \st  December.  —  The  beginning  of  anew 
month,  my  dearest,  Avherein  let  us  stir  up  our  souls  to 
more  hvely  faith  in  these  great  and  precious  promises 
which  we  inherit  from  the  death  of  our  Lord,  which 
you  have  so  lately,  and  wdiich  we  are  so  soon  about  to 
commemorate.  I  look  back  upon  the  last  month  as 
one  in  which  I  have  had  various  experiences  of  good 
and  evil  —  encouragements  beyond  all  former  experi- 
ence, and  trials  of  Satan  proportioned  thereto 

I  have  had  many  revelations,  and  beckonings,  and  over- 
tures to  enter  mto  the  temple's  inmost  place,  which  I 
shall  yet  do,  if  the  Lord  pennit.  If  I  allowed  anxiety 
to  prey  upon  me,  I  would  now  be  anxious  for  you  and 
the  child,  having  seen  by  the  papers  that  so  much  snow 
is  fallen  in  the  North.     But  the  Lord,  who  sendeth  His 


A   YOUJs^G   VISITOR.  371 

ice  as  morsels,  and  givetli  the  snow  like  wool,  and 
scattereth  the  hoarfrost  like  ashes,  will  not  let  it  ahght 
'  upon  you  without  good  and  gracious  ends,  for  the  very- 
hairs  of  your  head  are  numbered.  I  have  had  a  good 
deal  of  conversation  this  night  with  ]\Ir.  Hunter,  who 
is  returned  from  the  Korth,  concerning  the  comparative 
fatigue  and  comfort  of  posting  and  travelhng  by  the 
mail,  and  he  says  for  both  reasons,  but  especially  for 
less  exposure  to  the  cold,  the  mail  is  to  be  preferred. 
....  Take  wise  counsel  in  the  matter.     I  had  a  very 

pleasant  call  this  morning  from  Mr.  W ,  desiring, 

by  conversation  with  me,  to  express  his  forgiveness 
of  his  friend,  and  to  purge  himself  of  all  maHce  and 

revenge,  before  bringing  his  gift  to  the  altar 

After  he  was  gone,  I  sought  to  continue  my  discourse, 
and,  when  I  had  laid  down  my  pen  to  enter  upon  my 
Hebrew  studies,  I  was  interrupted  by  the  call  of  a 
young  lady,  who  had  stolen  to  me,  having  heard  me 

preach,  and  thinking  me  hkely  to  listen  to  her 

I  thought  the  struggle  between  shamefacedness  and 
fear  on  the  one  hand,  and  her  desire  of  counsel  on  the 
other,  would  have  wholly  overpowered  her.  I  found 
she  had  been  taught  of  the  Spirit  without  knowing  it, 
and,  when  I  taught  her  by  the  Word,  it  was  sweet  to 
witness  the  response  of  her  soul  pronouncing  the 
Amen,  'That  I  know,'  'That  I  feel  is  true.'  She 
is  one  in  a  family,  and  the  rest  have  no  fellowship 

with  her 

"A  proof-sheet  occupied  me  till  dinner,  and  after 
dinner  I  read  the  Eoman  History  till  towards  six, 
when  I  had  to  meet  my  young  communicants,  to 
introduce  them  to  the  session.     There  was  a  goodly 


B   B 


n72  A    '•   IJKNKDK.T. 

number  (if  lliom  jM'osonl,  to  wlicmi  I  addressed  a  word 
of  iiistruetion  eoncern'mLT  tlie  infinite  liouoiir  to  wliicli 
they  were  admitted,  and   llu-   duties  wliieli    devolved 

upon  them  in  their  Christian  eaUing I  liad  re- 

<-eived   a   letter  from  Andrew  P ,  desiring  that  Ids 

motlier  might  be  remenil)ei'ed  in  our  prayers,  as  one 
lookini:  for  deatli.  Tins  moved  me  to  no  and  sec  the 
alllicted  servant  of  Christ,  whom  I  found  brought  very 
low,  and  not  likely  to  recover  again,  her  children  re- 
joicing in  her  joy,  and  content  to  ])art  with  her  to  the 
jo}-  of  her  Lord.  So  the  arrows  of  the  Lord  are  flying 
on  all  sides  of  us.  This  made  it  past  eleven  when  I 
got  home,  and  I  found  Mr.  Murray  sitting  to  inforni 
me  that  he  was  about  to  become  '  a  Benedict,'  which 
means  blessed, — which  means  a  husband.  I  wish 
them  all  happiness.  And  so  was  I  hindered  from  ful- 
fdling  this  duty,  being  overladen  with  sleep,  and  worn 

out  with  labour 

'-'Friday, 2nd  December. — This  morning,  dearest,!  felt, 
when  called  at  seven,  the  effects  of  yesterday's  labour, 
and  was  not  able  to  arise,  from  headache,  which  I  durst 
not  biave,  having  such  a  weight  of  thought  and  action 
before  me ;  therefore  I  lay  still,  endeavouring  to  sleep 
it  off,  and  rose  not  till  half-past  nine,  when,  descending 
quietly,  I  sought  to  get  to  work  Avithout  interruption, 
and,  thank  God,  have  made  out  a  good  day's  work, 
being  well-nigh  finished  with  my  action  sermon  ;  and, 
for  the  rest,  I  am  very  much  disposed  to  depend  upon 
the  Spirit  to  give  me  utterance.   For  to-morrow,  all  the 

morning  I  have  to  be  helpful  to  Mrs.  H ,  and  the 

evening  I  have  to  preach  to  the  people.  After  work- 
ing with  my  pen,  I  took  an  interlude  of  history,  walk- 


EVILS   OF   FOKMALITY.  373 

ing  in  the  garden,  when  my  thoughts  are  fullest  of  our 
darhng.  But,  indeed,  I  know  not  how  it  is,  I  tliink  the 
last  two  or  three  days  I  have  been  thinking  of  him  too 
much,  and  last  night  I  dreamed  he  was  in  life,  and, 
though  drooping  like  a  flower,  giving  hope  of  health 
again.  He  was  on  your  knee,  and  I  thought  I  caught 
the  first  sign  of  hope — to  seize  him  and  carry  him  into 
the  fresh  air,  when  it  all  vanished  before  me  into  the 
sad  reahty.  Then  I  addressed  myself  to  my  Hebrew 
studies,  at  which  I  continued  till  I  went  forth  to  minister 
comfort  to  JMrs.  H 's  family,  with  whom  I  wor- 
shipped, opening  to  them  that  Psalm  of  divine  sorroAV 
(the  xhi.)  where  the  Psalmist,  in  all  his  sorrows,  sees 
nothing  to  lament  but  his  distance  and  separation  from 
the  house  of  God,  and  the  communion  of  His  people. 
I  came  back  at  half-past  eight,  having  several  appoint- 
ments with  those  who  had  not  spoken  to  me  in  time, 
yet  sought  with  earnestness  to  approach  the  table  of  the 
Lord.  And  now,  more  briefly  and  less  feehngly  and 
spiritually  than  I  would  have  desired,  have  I  set  forth 
to  you  the  incidents  of  Thursday,  which  to  my  soul 
hath  been  a  day  of  consolation.  Oh,  that  the  Lord 
would  break  these  bands  of  sleep — these  heavy  eye- 
lids of  drowsiness,  my  beloved  wife,  and  awake  us  to 
the  full  vision  of  the  truth  and  possession  of  the  things 
of  faith !  You  are  now,  I  trust,  by  the  mercy  of  God, 
seated  beside  my  most  honoured  parents,  to  whom  I 
present  my  dutifid  afiection,  praying  the  Lord  to  com- 
pass them  with  His  grace  ;  and,  oh,  tell  them  to  press 
inwards  to  the  temple  ;  not  to  rest,  but  to  press  onward. 
Exhort  them  from  me  to  have  no  formahty.  Tell 
them  that,  until  rehgion  cease  to  be  a  burden,  it  is 


374  liKNKDUTlON. 

notliiiig — till  jirnvor  cense  io  bo  ;i  Avearincss,  it  is 
nothing,  lluwcvcr  diHifiilt.  and  however  imperfect,  the 
spirit  must  still  n'joiie  in  it.  after  the  inward  man.  .  . 
If  I  Avi'ite  nnich  longer,  you  ^vill  not  lie  able  to  read; 
f>r  there  is  a  great  combination  against  nie — a  weary 
hand,  a  heavy  eye,  a  pen  worn  to  tlie  quick,  a  dull 
mind,  and  a  late  hour  ;  and  a  day  before  me  of  much 
occupation.  Therefore,  farewell  to  all  that  arc  with 
you,  and  to  all  with  whom  you  abide ! 

"  Saturday. —  I  thought,  my  dearest,  to  have  rmished 
this  before  the  post,  but  Jiave  been  taken  up  all  the 
morning,  till  two  o'clock,  doing  the  last  duties  to  our 
beloved  fiiend,  Mr.  H ;  and  liaving  to  preach  to- 
night, I  rather  choose  to  take  up  the  only  hour  that  is 
left  me  in  meditation  for  so  many  souls.  The  Lord  bless 
you,  and  the  house  in  which  you  dwell !  I  trust  in  the 
grace  of  God  to  sustain  me  to-morrow,  and  to  give  you 
a  good  journey. 

"  The  Lord  bless  my  fatlier's  liouse ! 

"  Your  affectionate  husband, 

"  Edwaed  Trvjkg." 

"  If  you  take  the  mail  from  Carlisle,  you  should  take  it 
only  to  Kattrick  Bridge,  or,  perhaps,  a  stage  farther. 
I  think  it  is  but  eighteen  miles  from  Kattrick  Bridge, 
and  the  landlord  seemed  to  me  a  verj'  pleasant  old  man. 
If  the  time  of  leaving  Carlisle  be  too  soon,  you  could 
perhaps  go  on  a  stage  or  two  the  night  before.  The 
Lord  direct  you  in  all  things  ! 

"  Forget  not  the  shoes — I  care  not  how  many  pairs, 
only  pay  for  them ;  for  rn}'  mother  will  always  make 
herself  a  beggar  for  her  children." 


IRVmGS   ONLY   JOURNAL.  375 

Thus  concludes  a  journal  which,  perhaps,  has  no 
parallel  in  modern  days.  A  picture  so  minute,  yet  so 
broad — a  self-revelation  so  entire  —  a  witness  so  wonder- 
ful of  that  household  love,  deepened  by  mutual  suffer- 
ing and  sorrow,  wliich  so  far  transcends  in  its  gravity 
and  soberness  the  more  voluble  passions  of  youth — has 
never,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  been  given  to  the  world. 
It  is  not  wonderfid  that  over  the  vicissitudes  of  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  centmy,  the  scattered  remnants  of  the 
family,  once  admitted,  even  in  part,  to  the  secret  soul 
of  such  a  man,  should  remember  these  letters  with  a 
certain  tearful  exultation,  the  traces  of  the  departed 
glory ;  nor  that  the  wife,  to  whom  all  were  addressed, 
should  have  cherished  them  to  the  last  as  too  sacred 
for  common  sight.  This  is  the  first  and  only  journal 
of  Irving's  hfe.  On  various  occasions  afterwards,  he 
was  separated  from  liis  wife  for  considerable  periods  — 
but  never  again  produced  anything  hke  the  affecting 
history,  at  wliich  he  laboured  day  by  day  and  hour  by 
hour,  to  cheer  the  mother  of  his  dead  baby,  as  she  lay, 
weak  and  sorrowful,  ui  the  faintest  hour  of  a  woman's 
hfe,  m  the  sad  affectionate  shelter  of  her  father's  house. 
Few  men  or  heroes  have  been  laid  in  their  grave  with 
such  a  memorial  as  envelopes  the  baby  name  of  Httle 
Edward  ;  and  I  think  few  wives  will  read  this  record 
without  envying  Isabella  Irving  that  hom^  of  her 
ancjuish  and  consolation. 


;i7(> 


LlIAiTEK  Xil. 

182G,   1827. 

AiTCK  tlie  full  and  detailed  personal  portrait  Avliicb 
Irving  gives  of  himself  in  these  journal -letters,  a  period  of 
comparative  silence  follows.  This  was  the  silent  seed-time 
of  the  exciting  and  exhausting  years,  full  of  conflict  and 
struggle,  upon  the  threshold  of  which  he  stood.  The 
full  flood  of  life  which  now  carried  liiiii  along  was  not 
more  visible  in  his  actual  labours  than  it  was  in  the  eager 
progress  of  his  mu'esting  and  ever-active  spirit.  Whe- 
ther his  mind  had  ever  been  content  with  the  solder  Pres- 
byterian ideal  of  a  democratic  Church,  in  which  the  will 
of  the  people  had  really,  if  not  nominally,  a  distijict  and 
apparent  sway,  and  in  which  the  priests  were  subject  to 
the  pei'petual  criticism  of  a  community  too  much  dis- 
posed to  argument  and  uidividual  opinion  to  yield  much 
veneration  to  their  legitimate  leaders,  it  is  difficult  to  say; 
but  the  Scotcli  imagination  has  always  found  a  way  of 
escaping  from  those  prosaic  trammels.  That  which  the 
outside  world  has  distinguislied  as  rehgious  liljerty,  and 
recognised  as  the  oljject  of  the  many  struggles  in 
which  the  Church  of  Scotland  has  engaged,  has  never 
been  so  named  or  considered  uuKjng  the  champions  of 
that  Church.  Their  eyes,  throughout  the  long  and 
eventful  drama,  have  been  fixed,  not  upon  the  freedom 


THE    HEADSHIP   OF    CHRIST.  377 

of  individual  worship,  or  the  rights  of  the  Christian 
people,  but  upon  a  much  loftier,  ineffable  principle, 
often  converted  into  an  instrument  of  evil,  yet  always 
retaining,  to  some,  the  divinest  sunshine  of  ideal  perfec- 
tion. Now-a-days,  when  martyrdoms  are  no  longer 
possible,  and  heretical  stakes  and  blocks  are  long  ago 
out  of  fashion,  it  is  more  difficult  than  it  once  was,  to 
ideahse,  out  of  a  struggle  for  mere  ecclesiastical  autho- 
rity, that  conflict  wliich,  in  the  days  of  blood  and  vio- 
lence, so  many  humble  heroes  waged  for  the  headship 
of  Christ.  To  many  a  Scotch  confessor  this  doctrine 
has  stood  instead  of  a  visible  general,  animating  the 
absolute  peasant-soul  to  so  distinct  a  conception  of 
Christ's  honour  and  authority,  as  the  object  for  which 
it  contended,  that  the  personal  ardour  of  the  conflict 
puzzles  the  calm  observer,  who  understands  as  nothing 
but  a  dogma  this  inspiring  principle.  The  events 
which  made  the  great  crisis  in  the  existence  of  Scot- 
land a  struggle  for  her  faith,  drove  this  lofty,  visionary 
conception  into  the  ideal  soul  of  the  nation,  where  it 
has  ever  since  existed,  and  is  still  appealed  to,  as  the 
experience  of  to-day  can  testify.  When,  according  to 
the  evidence  of  facts,  the  Covenanters  were  fighting 
against  the  imposed  liturgy  and  attempted  episcopacy 
of  the  Charleses,  they  were,  to  their  own  fierce  con- 
sciousness, struggling  for  the  principle  that,  in  the 
Church,  Charles  was  nothing,  and  Christ  all  in  all ; 
nor  has  the  sentiment  failed  in  more  recent  struggles. 
Irvms  had  received  this  national  creed  alons;  with  his 
earliest  impressions  :  he  had  even  received  it  m  the  still 
closer  theocratic  model  well  known  in  ancient  Scotland, 
where  God  the  ruler  was  everywhere  visible,  in  provi- 


o78  A    JJAITIZKI)    C'1IK18T1:M)0M. 

denco,  judgmenl,  and  nioivy.    JJut  liis  iin])nssioncd  soul 
led  him  to  reconstruct  upon  tliese  sublime  elcmeuls  au- 
other  ideal  of  a  Clmrcli  tliau  that  \yh\ch  has  long  been 
supreme  in  Scotland.     Unconsciously  his  thoughts  ele- 
vated thomsolves,  and  grew  into  fuller  development; 
unconsciously  he  assumed  in  his  own  person  the  priestly 
attitude,  and  felt  hhnself  standing  between  God  and  the 
people.     Then  the    community   itself  rose   under   his 
glowing  gaze  into  a  baptized  world,  —  a   Christendom 
separated  by  the  initiatoiy  orchnance  of  Christianity,  of 
whicli   Christ  was  the  sole  head.     Tlie  lomzer  he  con- 
templated  this  w^orld,  the  more  it  rose  out  of  the  region 
of  doctrine  into  that  of  reahty.     That  Lord  became  no 
distant  Presence,  but  a  Person  so  intensely  realised  and 
visible,  that   the   adoring   eye   perceived   the   human 
pulses  tlirobbing  in  His  veins ;  and  for  awe,  and  love  of 
that  mysterious  union,  the  worshipper  could  not  keep 
silence.     That  faith  became  no  system  of  words,  but  a 
divine  evidence  and  substantial  proof  of  the  unutterable 
glories ;  that  baptism  grew  out  of  a  symbol  and  cere- 
mony into  a  Thing, — an  immortal  biith,  to  which  God 
Himself  pledged  His  Avord.   One  can  see  this  wonderful 
process  going  on  in  the  transparent,  vehement  spirit. 
Everytliing  suffered  a  change  under  those  shining  eyes 
of  genius  and  passion.     From  impersonal  regions   of 
tliought  they  rose  into  visible  revelations  of  reality.    To 
a  mind  instinct  with  this  reahsing  principle,  the  con- 
ception of  a  Second  Advent  nearly  approaching  was 
like   the   beginning   of  a  new   life.     The   thought  of 
seeing  His  Lord  in  the  flesh  cast  a  certain  ecstasy  upon 
the  mind  of  Irving.     It  quickened  tenfold  his  already 
vivid  apprehension  of  spiritual  things.     The  burden  of 


EXPANSION.  379 

the  prophetic  mysteries,  so  often  darkly  pondered,  so 
often  interpreted  in  a  mistaken  sense,  seemed  to  him,  in 
the  hght  of  that  expectation,  to  swell  into  divine  cho- 
ruses of  preparation  for  the  splendid  event  which,  with 
his  own  bodily  eyes,  undimmed  by  death,  he  hoped  to 
behold.  He  had  commenced  his  labom^s,  and  the 
studies  necessarily  involved  in  those  labours,  with  a 
certain  expansion  of  spiiit,  and  power  of  subhmating 
whatever  truth  he  touched,  but  no  apparent  diverg- 
ence from  ordinary  belief.  But  years  of  close  dweUing 
upon  the  sacred  subjects  which  it  was  his  calhng  to 
expound,  had  borne  their  natural  fruit.  Not  yet  had 
he  diverged;  but  he  had  expanded,  intensified,  opened 
out,  in  an  almost  unprecedented  degree.  Special  truths, 
as  he  came  to  consider  them,  glowed  forth  upon  his 
horizon  with  fuller  and  fuller  radiance ;  hfe  and 
human  affections  seemed  to  go  with  the  adventurer  mto 
those  worlds  of  beheved  but  not  appreciated  divuiity ; 
and,  as  he  himself  identified  one  by  one  those  wonder- 
ful reahsations,  which  were  to  him  as  discoveries,  with 
ever  a  warmer  and  fuller  voice  he  declared  them  aloud. 
Such  was  his  state  of  mind  in  the  comparatively 
silent,  and  in  some  respects  transition,  period  to  which 
we  have  now  reached.  His  first  sorrow  did  but 
strengthen  the  other  influences  at  work  upon  him,  wliile 
at  the  same  time  his  many  and  continual  labom^s  acting 
upon  his  health,  obliged  him  to  withdraw  a  httle  from 
the  din  and  excitement  of  his  battle-field,  and  left  him 
fuller  scope  for  his  thoughts.  In  his  winter  sohtude, 
while  his  wife  was  absent,  he  had  begun,  more  from 
benevolent  motives  than  with  any  idea  of  making  use 
of  the  accomplishment,  to  study  Spanish ;  but,  before 


3vS0  BEX-EZRA. 

he  IkuI  mndo  aiiv  izront  advances  in  llie  laiiLriia<ro,  ;i 
mannor  of  turning  tlic  new  gift  to  tlie  profit  of  the 
Cluireh  ciune,  l)y  a  complication  of  causes — to  liis  eyes 
clearly  providential  —  in  his  way.  A  Spanisli  work, 
entitled  "  The  Coming  of  the  Messiah  in  Gloiy  and 
Majesty,"  professedly  written  by  Juan  Josafat  Ben-Ezra, 
a  Hebrew  convert  to  Christianity,  but  in  reality,  ac- 
cording to  the  facts  afterwards  ascertained,  the  produc- 
tion of  a  Jesuit  priest,  called  Lacunza,  was  brought  to 
him,  as  he  describes  in  his  preface  to  the  translation  of 
that  work,  by  friends  who  had  been  specially  impressed 
by  his  own  views  on  the  same  subject.  He  found  in  it, 
as  he  declares, "  the  hand  of  a  master,"  and  not  only  so, 
but  "  the  chief  work  of  a  master's  hand ; "  and  feeUng 
assured  that  his  God  liad  sent  this  "  masterpiece  of 
reasoninti "  to  him  "  at  such  a  critical  time,  for  the  love 
of  His  Church,  which  He  hath  purchased  Avith  His 
blood,"  he  resolved  "  to  weidi  well  how  I  mio'ht  turn 
the  gift  to  profit."  The  result  of  his  ponderings  was, 
that  he  midertook  the  translation  of  the  book,  c'onclud- 
ing,  after  his  fashion,  that  the  Church  was  as  open  to 
receive  instiiiction,  wheresoever  it  came  from,  as  he 
himself  was.  Not  very  long  before,  he  had  stood  up 
against  the  champions  of  Catholic  emancipation,  taking, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation,  the  unpopular  side  of 
the  question,  and  declaring  with  the  utmost  plainness 
that,  "  though  it  expose  me  to  odium  in  every  form,  I 
have  no  hesitation  in  asserting  it  to  be  my  belief  that 
when  the  rulers  of  this  nation  shall  pennit  tQ  the  wor- 
shippers of  the  Beast  the  same  honours,  immunities, 
and  trusts  which  they  permit  to  the  worshippers  of  the 
true  God,  that  day  will  be  the  })lackest  in  the  history  of 


THE   SPANISH   JESUIT.  381 

our  fate."  But  in  tlie  face  of  these  uncompromising 
sentiments,  and  almost  in  a  breath  with  the  expression 
of  them,  he  comes,  with  characteristic  candour  and 
openness,  to  the  feet  of  the  Spanish  priest,  receives  his 
book  "  as  a  voice  from  the  Eoman  Cathohc  Chiurch," 
just  as  he  claims  for  his  own  preaching  to  be  "  as  a  voice 
from  the  Kirk  of  Scotland,"  and  finds  it  his  duty  to 
interpret  between  the  Jesuit  preacher  and  the  English 
world.  A  better  illustration  of  the  native  candour  and 
simphcity  of  his  mind  could  not  be.  Few  Protestant 
preachers  would  take  upon  themselves  such  an  office  ; 
and  those  who  could  beheve  their  own  views  enforced 
and  supported  by  the  concurrence  of  a  Cathohc  writer, 
would  be,  according  to  ordinary  rules,  men  of  tolerant, 
not  to  say  latitudiuarian,  principles, — not  rigid  upon 
points  of  difference.  Of  a  very  difierent  kind  was  the 
toleration  of  Irving.  It  was  not  toleration  at  all, 
indeed,  nor  any  modern  convenience,  but  simple  love 
for  aU  who  loved  his  Master's  appearing,  and  unfailing 
belief  in  the  human  utterance  which  speaks  out  of  the 
abundance  of  men's  hearts.  The  same  voice  which 
had  just  declared  its  horror  at  the  thought  of  pohtical 
equahty  for  the  Cathohcs,  and  doubtless  had  been  ana- 
thematised as  the  voice  of  a  bigot  in  consequence, 
declares,  immediately  after,  the  determination  of  the 
speaker  to  give  no  Protestant  comment  upon  the 
Jesuit's  simple  words.  "  The  doctrines  of  the  Eoman 
Church,"  he  says,  "  which  now  and  then  appear,  are 
brought  forward  with  so  much  simphcity  and  sincerity 
of  faith,  and  so  httle  in  the  spirit  of  obtrusion  or  con- 
troversy, that  it  seemed  to  me  hke  taldng  an  advantage 
of  the  honest,  weU-meaning  man   to  enter   the   hsts 


naa  i  kv i  nt.  s  coxsistexcy. 

aLTainst  liim.  iinaccmitred  ii-^  lie  was Oil,  no !  I 

luul  uo  licart  to  catcli  liini  (ripping,  or  to  expose  the 
weakness  of  so  dear  a  teacher,  concerning  whom  I  was 
continually  exclaiming  to  the  com]ianion  of  my  solitary 
labours,  '  I  hope  yet,  in  t>ome  ol"  my  I'ulure  pilgrimages, 
to  meet  this  gray-haired  saint  in  the  flesh,  and  receive 
his  blessing,  while  I  tell  him  how  much  I  love  him,  and 
have  profited  from  liis  instructions.' " 

Tliis  contrast  of  sentiment  will  possibly  puzzle 
some  observers.  Irving,  it  is  evident,  was  not  careful 
to  preserve  his  consistency  ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  make 
out  how  a  man  who  laboured  so  lovingly  over,  this 
priest's  book,  and  presented  him,  all  Jesuit  as  he  was, 
to  the  Protestant  world,  as  a  teacher  to  whom  he 
himself  looked  up,  could  be  much  of  a  bigot,  even 
though  he  took  the  most  uncompromising  and  decided 
position  on  the  pohtical  question  of  Catholic  disabilities. 
Hjs  views  on  political  questions  generally  seem  to  have 
been  forming  at  this  time  into  a  more  decided  shape 
than  they  had  hitherto  possessed.  Out  of  the  eclectic 
personal  creed  of  a  professional  man,  to  whom  politics 
were  secondaiy,  they  had  consolidated  into  something 
which  from  the  outside  looks  like  Iligh  Toryism,  in 
its  most  superlative  and  despotic  development.  His 
frequent  references  to  the  "  Convocation-book,"  de- 
scribed in  his  letters,  and  the  conclusion  he  arrives  at, 
that  subjects  are  not  justifiable  in  taking  up  arms 
against  their  lawful  governors,  seems,  at  the  first  glance, 
a  singular  principle  for  the  descendant  and  cliampion 
of  the  Covenanters ;  but  it  belongs,  as  naturally  as 
any  other  development  of  doctrine,  to  the  elevation 
and  growth  of  all  his  thoughts.     To  him,  with  whom 


A   CHRISTIAN   NATION.  383 

the  limit  of  practicability  told  for  nothing,  and 
whose  business  was  with  the  far  more  generally 
forgotten  or  sKghted  ideal  form  of  things,  the  consi- 
deration of  how  it  would  work  was  out  of  the 
question ;  enough  men  there  were  in  the  world  to 
consider  that ;  his  work  was  entirely  of  another 
description.  To  his  eyes,  full  of  subhmating  hght,  the 
secular  forms  of  government  stood  forth  like  the 
spiritual,  in  all  the  authority  of  Di\dne  origin.  The 
nation  was  a  Christian  nation,  perilling  its  very 
existence  by  the  admission  into  power  of  any  who  did 
not  recognise  the  principle  of  its  being.  The  powers 
that  be  were  ordained  of  God.  The  purity  of  the 
national  faith  was  the  safeguard  of  its  Hfe,  and  the  ark 
of  national  safety  was  in  danger  the  moment  that 
unhallowed  hands  touched  or  approached  it. 

Such  was  the  poHtical  creed  of  the  fervid  Scotch 
preacher,  when  the  world  was  palpitatmg  around  him 
with  CathoHc  struggles  and  the  early  essays  of  Eeform. 
Almost  all  the  strength  of  contemporary  genius  went 
with  the  popular  stream.  He,  all  old-world  and  unpro- 
gressive,  stood  against  the  tide.  How  circumstances 
could  modify  behef,  or  indi\ddual  and  temporary 
hardships  set  aside  everlasting  trutli,  it  was  not  in  him 
to  understand,  nor  did  he  enter  into  the  less  or  more 
practicable  degrees  of  national  virtue.  His  stand  was 
taken  upon  the  absolute.  From  this  point  of  view  he 
protested  against  the  abohtion  of  tests,  against  the 
emancipation  of  Cathohcs,  and,  most  of  all,  against  the 
great  atheistical  principle,  as  he  held  it,  that  power 
was  derived  from  the  people  instead  of  from  God. 
Upon  this,   as    upon    the    antipodes   of    those   lofty 


384  roLiTicAL  orixioxs. 

politico-religious  pri!icii)los  wliicli  lio  irnnsclf  held  like 
a  projiliet  in  a  world  consciously  ruled  of  God,  lie 
looked  with  horror.  Such  elevated  theories  of  govern- 
ment are  not  always  necessary  to  disgust  though tfid 
men  with  the  doubtful  and  unreliable  impulses  of  popu- 
lar supremac}'.  liut  Irving's  \'iews  were  nt)t  founded 
upon  any  calculation  of  results.  To  put  power  into 
the  hands  of  any  man  wdio  was  not  ready,  and,  indeed, 
eager,  to  declare  himself  a  follower  of  Christ,  according 
to  the  apparent  means  of  Christ's  own  appointing,  was 
an  act  of  national  sacrileire  to  him  who  considered 
himself  bound  to  obey  that  power  when  exercised,  as 
the  ordinance  of  God.  Thus  a  political  creed,  which 
time  and  the  horn'  have  made  obsolete,  as  being  all 
impracticable,  flashed  forth  into  life  in  the  hands  of  a 
champion  who  thought  only  of  riglit,  and  never  of 
practicabihty.  Whatever  may  be  said  of  those  doc- 
trines of  Divine  right  and  religious  government,  wdiich 
by  times  have  been  perverted  by  human  ingenuity 
into  the  most  horrible  instruments  of  cruelty  and 
national  degradation,  the  grand  idea  of  a  Christian 
nation,  governed  by  Christians,  on  the  broad  basis  of 
that  law  which  is  good-^vill  to  man,  as  held  by  such  a 
mind  as  that  of  Ir\dng,  must  always  remain  a  splendid 
imagination :  no  vulgar  pohtical  beUef,  although  it 
called  forth  from  the  optimist  demonstrations  of  his 
o^vn  strenuous  sentiments,  which  were  swept  off,  all 
futile  and  unavailing,  before  the  inevitable  tide. 

Early  in  the  year  1826,  the  work  of  Ben-Ezra 
came  into  Irving's  hands,  confirming  and  strengthen- 
ing his  heart  in  respect  to  the  new  revelation  of  doc- 
trine which  had  already  illuminated  his  path.     He  had 


KEST    AND    KELAXiVTION.  385 

begun  his  Spanish  studies  only  a  fcAv  months  before, 
with  the  view  of  helping  his  friend,  Giuseppe  Sotto- 
mayor ;    and  it  was  not  until  summer  that  he  mider- 
took  the  translation  of  the  book  which  had  impressed 
him  so  deeply.     He  had,  by  this  period,  so  exliausted 
his  strength  in  his  ordinary  pastoral  labours,  that  his 
conorefation  became   anxious   about  his  health,  and 
insisted   on  the  necessary  rest  and   relaxation  which 
alone  could  recruit  him.     "  About  this  time,"  as  he 
himself  says,  "  it  pleased  the  Lord  to  stir  up  the  greater 
part  of  my  flock  to  exhort  me   by   all   means,   as  I 
valued  my  own  health  and  their  well-being,  to  remove 
a  httle  ffom  the  bustle  and  intrusion  of  this  great  city, 
and  abide  in  the  countiy  during  some  of  the  summer 
months  ;  and  two  of  the  brethren  who  loved  me  much 
engaged,  unknown   to  me,  a   place   in   the    country, 
where,  without  forsaking  my  charge,  I  might  reside  in 
peace  and  quietness  amidst  the  beauty  and  bounty  Avith 
which  God  hath  covered  the  earth.     This  occm-ring  so 
unexpectedly,  at   the   time  when  all  concerned  were 
soliciting  me  to  undertake  the  whole  care  and  respon- 
sibility of  the  translation,  and  perceiving  that  the  work 
was  hkely  to  suffer  from  a  divided  labour,  without 
being  at  all  hastened,  I  resolved  at  length,  insufficient 
as  was  my  knowledge  of  the  language  at  that  time,  to 
conquer  all  difficulties  and  heartily  to  give  myself  to 
the  Lord  and  to  His  Church  during  these  weeks  of 
retirement ;  for  I  was  well  convmced  that  the  health 
wliich  I  most  needed  was  the  healing  waters  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  which  I  thus  made  bold  to  sohcit,  by 
devoting  myself  to  His   service  ;    and   certainly  the 
labourer  was  not  disappointed  of  his  hire.     I  prevented 
VOL.  I.  c  c 


a86  IJKCKKMIAM. 

tile'  (lawniiiLT  of  tlio  inorniiifr,  ;iii(l  1  envied  tlie  settiiifr 
in  of  the  slnules  of  cveiiiiii:;  to  ltil)oiir  in  iny  work  ; 
and  when  my  liands  and  my  eyes  failed  iiir,  because  of 
weakness,  the  hel])er  whom  God  li;ilh  <xiveii  meet  tor 
me  served  me  with  hers,  and  so  wc  laboured  to  bring 
tliis  hibour  of  love  to  completion,  purposing  to  offer  it 
to  tlie  Church  as  our  Christmas  ofrering.  Oh,  that  my 
brethren  in  Christ  might  liave  the  same  divine  satisfac- 
tion and  unwearied  dehght  in  reading,  that  I  had  in 
transkiting  this  wonderful  work  !  " 

Tl  would  l)e  diflicult  to  add  to  without  impairing  the 
perfection  of  this  beautiful  sketch  of  the  summer 
leisure  which  L'ving  "  gave  to  the  Lord."  The  retire- 
ment of  the  pair,  so  wonderfully  united  in  labour  and 
sympathy,  was  at  Beckenham  ;  where,  with  that  child 
of  tears  over  Avhom  they  could  not  choose  but  watch 
Avith  double  solicitude,  they  hvcd  in  quiet,  at  least,  if 
not  in  repose,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  summer. 
During  all  this  time,  Living  went  up  to  London  every 
Saturday,  remaining  until  Monday,  to  fulfd  Ids  usual 
laborious  ministerial  duties ;  and  in  the  interval 
laboured,  as  he  has  described,  at  the  woi'k  —  ])erhaps 
(if  all  literary  labours  the  most  tiresome  and  wearing 
out  —  of  this  translation.  Such  was  his  version  of 
relaxation  and  ease.  He  worked  at  it  so  closely,  that 
he  Avas  at  one  time  threatened  with  Ljss  of  sitrht  in 
consequence — those  strong  out-of-doors  eyes  of  his 
evidently  not  having  been  adapted  by  nature  lor 
j)oring  perpetually  over  print  and  ])aper.  However, 
he  appears  to  have  known  the  tiiic  medicine  for  his 
own  case.  The  \dllagc  quiet,  and  incidental  advan- 
tages,  passively   enjoyed,  of    fresh   air   and    summer 


IEVING's    "helper   meet   for   him."  387 

greenness,  comforted  and  refreshed  his  heart,  as  he  sat 
labouring  with  his  imperfect  Spanish  over  the  long 
treatise  of  Lacunza ;  and,  in  the  calm  of  those  toils, 
liis  health  returned  to  him.  The  defect  in  his  eyes 
even  helped  him  to  find  out  the  auxihary  which  was  at 
hand,  and  of  which  in  after  times  he  largely  availed 
himself.  "I  rejoice  to  tell  you  that  Edward  is  very 
much  better,"  writes  Mrs.  Ii'ving  to  her  sister.  "  He 
has  now  made  me  almost  entirely  his  amanuensis.  I 
even  write  his  discourses,  which  to  liim  is  a  most 
wonderful  rehef.  This  will  surprise  you  when  you 
remember  he  could  bear  no  one  in  the  room  with 
him ;  still  he  can  bear  no  one  but  myself ;  but  he  can 
stop  and  give  ear  to  my  observations."  ....  And 
the  anxious  mother  diverges  from  this  description  into 
expressions  of  subdued  alarm  lest  baby  should  have 
the  whooping-cough,  and  a  wife's  tender  admiration  of 
her  husband's  increasino;  fondness  for  the  cliild.  Once 
more  the  strain  is  idyllic ;  but  the  fond  woman's 
letters,  in  which  "  dear  Edward  "  appears  as  the  centre 
of  everything,  invested  with  a  certain  impersonal 
perfection,  do  not  convey  so  clear  a  picture  out  of  the 
bosom  of  that  domestic  happiness,  tranquilhty,  anxiety, 
love,  and  labour  —  the  subhme  but  common  course  of 
life  —  as  the  brief  words  in  which  he  himself  comme- 
morates the  summer  scene.  It  was  a  halcyon  moment, 
subdued  by  the  touch  of  past  sorrow,  and  that 
trembling  which  experience  so  soon  brings  into  all 
mortal  enjoyment,  yet  sweet  with  the  more  exquisite 
happiness  which  only  those  who  have  sorrowed  and 
trembled  together  can  snatch  out  of  the  midst  of 
their  years, 

c  c  2 


88S  THK    lIinKRNlAN    BIBLE    SOCIETY. 

Tliis  laborious  ivtiivinont  liad  ])vcu  ])rccedecl  by  tlie 
toils  and  oxoitemciits  ot'  a  Ijt)iidoii  May,  with  all  its 
calls  upon  the  powers  and  the  ])atience  of  the  great 
orator.  One  of  the  relisjrious  meetinsrs  of  the  season 
was  distmguished  by  an  oft-told  incident  —  one  of  the 
common  wonders  which  liave  established  Irving's 
character  for  eccentricity  among  those  who  know 
little  more  of  him  than  is  conveyed  by  such  anecdotes. 
This  was  the  meeting  of  the  Hibernian  Bible  Society, 
at  which,  the  previous  year,  he  had  made  so  remark- 
able an  appearance,  denouncing  and  resisting  the  terror 
or  complacency  with  which  its  members  yielded  to  a 
popular  outcry.  This  year  —  probably,  as  one  of  his 
frienels  suggests,  that  he  might  oiler  his  support  as 
openly  as  his  rebuke — he  gave  his  watch,  till  he  should 
be  able  to  redeem  it,  to  the  subscription  in  aid  of  the 
Society.  It  is  the  only  incident  standing  out  from  tliis 
tranquil  period  of  his  hfe. 

During  the  summer  of  1826,  while  Irving  was 
busied  with  his  translation,  the  expectation  conveyed 
in  this  Spanish  book,  to  which  his  own  mind  and 
that  of  many  others  liad  been  directed,  with  special 
force  and  clearness,  not  wtvy  long  before,  seems  to  have 
swelled  within  the  minds  of  all  who  held  it,  to  such  an 
amount  of  solemn  excitement  and  inquiring  interest  as 
could  no  longer  keep  silence.  If  the  advent  of  the 
Lord  w^ere  indeed  close  at  hand  ;  if  events  were  visibly 
marchinir  forward  to  that  j^reat  visible  era  of  doom  and 
triumph,  as  so  many  students  of  prophecy  concurred 
in  beheving  —  it  was  but  natural  that  a  hope  so  extra- 
ordinary should  bring  the  httle  brotherhood  into  a 
union  far  more  intimate  than  that  of  mere  concurrence 


ALBURY.  389 

in  belief.  The  bond  between  tliem  was  rather  that 
personal  and  exciting  one  which  exists  among  a  party 
full  of  anxiety  for  the  restoration  or  election  of  a  king 
—a  patriotic  band  of  conspirators  furnished  -with  all  the 
information  and  communications  in  cipher  which  cannot 
be  given  at  length  to  the  common  mass  —  than  the 
calmer  link  between  theologians  united  in  doctrine ; 
and  mdeed  one  wonders  more  at  the  steady  pertinacity 
of  human  nature  which  could  go  on  in  all  the  ordinary 
habitudes  of  the  flesh  under  the  solemn  commotion  of 
such  a  hope,  than  at  any  kind  of  conference  or  extra- 
ordinary consultation  which  might  be  held  under  the 
circumstances.  "A  desire  to  compare  their  views  ^^dth 
respect  to  the  prospects  of  the  Church  at  this  present 
crisis  "  naturally  arose  among  them,  as  Irving  informs  us 
in  the  preface  to  Ben-Ezra ;  and  after  several  meetings 
during  the  summer,  a  serious  and  lengthened  conference 
on  the  subject  w^as  arranged  to  take  place  at  Albury, 
the  residence  of  one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  the  little 
prophetic  parliament,  the  late  Henry  Drummond. 

It  is  umiecessary  to  enter  into  any  history  of  this 
remarkable  man,  who  was  but  the  other  day,  in  the  full 
force  of  his  wonderful  individuahty,  taking  his  part  in 
all  the  affairs  of  the  world.  That  individuality  was  too 
marked  and  striking  to  permit  any  calm,  general  opinion 
of  the  merits  of  a  man  who  was  at  once  a  rehgious 
leader,  and  the  patron  of  rehgious  distress  throughout 
the  world ;  an  independent  influence,  and  most  caustic 
critic  in  the  British  parhament;  a  believer  in  all  the  mys- 
teries of  faith,  yet  a  contemptuous  denouncer  of  every- 
thing beyond  the  shadowy  line  which  he  recognised  as 
dividing  faith  from  superstition  ;  the  temporal  head,  in 


390  IlENKY    DKUMMOXD. 

some  respects,  of  a  l>:in(l  o\'  ivligionists  ;  and  5'et  a  man 
ill  lull  coinimmiitn  witii  llu-  busy  world,  keepini!;  the 
car  of  society,  and  never  out  of  tlie  fullest  tide  of 
life.  Such  a  conjunction  of  character  had  never  been 
witnessed  before  in  Jiis  generation,  and  has  given 
ocaision  for  estimates  as  diilerent  as  are  the  points 
of  view  from  which  they  are  taken.  Such  as  he  was, 
all  impetuons  and  wilful — with  an  arbitrary  magnifi- 
cence of  disposition  possible  only  to  a  man  born  to 
great  riches,  and  unconscious  of  many  of  those  natural 
restrauits  which  teach  most  men  the  impossibihty  of 
putting  their  own  will  into  full  execution  —  Mr.  Drum- 
mond  had  from  his  youth  dedicated  his  wealth,  his  wit, 
his  unparalleled  activity,  his  social  position,  eveiything 
he  had  and  was,  to  the  service  of  God,  according  as 
that  appeared  to  his  vivid  but  peculiar  apprehension. 
Before  this  time  he  had  ap})cared  in  the  track  of  the 
Haldanes  at  Geneva,  where  the  dead  theological 
lethargy  of  the  early  Eeformed  Church  was  again 
waking  into  life,  and  liad  heard  the  Hebrew  WoliT 
questionhig  the  Eoman  professors  in  the  chambers  of  the 
Propaganda.  Xot  very  long  before,  Irving  himself,  a 
ver\"  different  mould  (A'  niaii,  had  recorded  in  his 
jouinal  a  certain  dissatisfaction  with  the  perpetual 
external  activity  of  the  restless  rehgious  potentate. 
But  this  warm  link  of  common  behef  awoke  closer 
feehngs  of  brotherhood.  Henry  Drummond,  impatient, 
fastidious,  and  arbitrary,  a  master  of  contemptuous 
expression,  acting  and  speaking  with  all  the  sudden- 
ness of  an  irresponsible  agent,  was  as  luilike  a  man 
a.s  could  possibly  be  supposed  to  the  great  Scotch 
preacher,  with  all  the  grand  simphcity  of  his  assump- 


COXFEREXCE  FOE  THE  STUDY  OF  PEOPHECY.    391 

tions  and  tender  brotlierliood  of  his  heart.  But  "  they 
who  loved  His  appearing "  were  united  by  a  spell 
which  transcended  every  merely  human  sjniipathy ; 
and  from  this  time  ]\Ir.  Drummond  appears  to  have 
exercised  a  certain  degree  of  influence,  varying,  but 
always  increasing,  over  the  career  of  Irving,  Their 
first  point  of  actual  conjunction  appears  to  have  been 
at  this  meeting  of  prophetical  students,  held  at  Albury. 
When  the  summer  was  over,  with  all  its  restraints  of 
labour  and  fashion,  and  early  winter  whitened  the 
gentle  hills  of  Surrey,  the  grave  little  company  assem- 
bled in  that  house,  which  has  since  given  character 
and  colour  to  the  district  round  it,  and  become  for 
one  division  of  Christians  a  kind  of  visible  Beth-El  in 
the  wilderness  of  men's  houses. 

"  One  of  our  number,"  says  Irving,  in  the  preface  already 
quoted,  "  well  known  for  his  princely  munificence,  thought 
well  to  invite  by  special  letter  all  the  men,  both  ministers 
and  laymen,  of  any  orthodox  communion  whom  he  knew  or 
could  ascertain  to  he  interested  in  prophetic  studies ;  that 
they  should  assemble  at  his  house  of  Albury  Park,  in  Surrey, 
on  the  first  day  of  Advent,  that  we  might  deliberate  for  a  full 
week  upon  the  great  prophetic  questions  which  do  at  present 
most  intimately  concern  Christendom.  In  answer  to  this 
honourable  summons,  there  assembled  about  twenty  men  of 
every  rank,  and  church,  and  orthodox  communion  in  these 
realms ;  and  in  honour  of  our  meeting,  Grod  so  ordered  it  that 
Joseph  Wolff,  the  Jewish  missionary,  a  son  of  Abraham  and 
brother  of  our  Lord,  both  according  to  flesh  and  according  to 
faith,  should  also  be  of  the  number.  And  here,  for  eight 
days,  under  the  roof  of  Henry  Drummond,  Esq.,  the  present 
High  Sheriff  of  the  county,  and  under  the  moderation  of  the 
Eev.  Hugh  M'Neil,  the  rector  of  the  parish  of  Albury,  we 
spent  six  full  days  in  close  and  laborious  examination  of  the 
Scriptures These  things  I  write  from  recollection,  not 


aOl'  COXCERXIXCi    TIIH   SECOND    ADVENT, 

carinor  to  use  tho  copious  notes  vvliich  I  took ;  for  it  was  a 
nuitvuil  uiuU-rstaiuliii":;  that  notliinsj^  sliould  go  forth  from  the 
niL'ctin*,'  with  any  stamp  of  authority,  that  the  Church  might 
uot  take  offence,  as  if  we  had  assumed  to  ourselves  any  name 
or  right  in  the  Church.  But  there  wa.s  such  a  sanction  given 
to  these  judgments  by  the  fulness,  freeness,  and  harmony 
which  prevailed  in  the  midst  of  partial  and  minor  differences 
of  opinion;  bj'the  spirit  of  prayer  and  love  and  zeal  for  God's 
glory  and  the  Church's  good ;  by  the  sweet  temper  and  large 
charity  which  were  spread  abroad ;  and  by  the  common  con- 
sent tliat  God  was  in  a  very  remarkable  way  present  with  us 
—  that  I  deem  it  my  duty  to  make  knowm  tliese  great  results 
to  the  Christian  churches  which  I  have  thus  so  early  an  op- 
portunity of  addressing. 

"  Having  said  so  much,  I  think  it  to  be  my  duty  further  to 
state  the  godly  order  and  arrangement  according  to  which 
tlie  All)ury  conference,  concerning  the  second  Advent,  was 
conducted ;  for  to  this,  under  God,  I  attribute  in  no  small 
degree  the  abundance  of  blessings  Avitli  which  our  souls  were 
made  glad.  We  set  apart  a  day  for  each  subject,  and  resolved 
to  give  no  more  than  one  day  to  each  ;  and  as  we  were  but 
six  free  days  assemljled,  having  met  on  the  Thursday  and 
parted  on  the  Friday  of  the  week  following,  we  joined  the 
fourth  and  seventh  subjects  together,  conceiving  them  to  be 
closely  connected  with  one  another ;  and  having  apportioned 
a  separate  subject  to  each  day,  we  proceeded  to  each  day's 
work  after  the  following  method  :  we  divided  the  labour  of 
each  day  into  three  parts — a  morning  diet  before  breakfast, 
the  second  and  principal  diet  between  breakfast  and  dinner, 
and  the  third  in  the  evening.  The  object  of  our  morning 
diet,  to  which  Ave  assembled  at  eight  o'clock  precisely — as 
early  as  we  could  well  see — was  twofold:  first,  to  seek  the 
Lord  for  the  light,  wisdom,  patience,  devotion  to  His  glory, 
communion  of  saints,  and  every  other  gift  and  grace  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  which  was  necessary  and  proper  to  the  labour 
which  was  that  day  appointed  us  in  God's  good  providence ; 
this  office  was  always  fulfilled  by  a  minister  of  the  gospel. 
Secondly,  one  of  the  number  was  appointed  over  night,  and 
sometimes  several  nights  before,  to  open  the  subject  of  the 
day  in  an  orderly  and  regidar  way,  taking  all  his  gTounds  of 


A    SCHOOL    OP    PROPHETS.  393 

argument,  and  substantiating  all  liis  conclusions  out  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures ;  and  while  he  thus  proceeded,  the  rest  of 
the  brethren  took  down  the  substance  of  what  he  said,  and 
noted  down  the  texts  from  which  he  reasoned ;  for  we  sat  in 
the  library  around  a  large  table,  provided  with  every  con- 
venience for  writing  and  for  consulting  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
When  the  outlines  and  divisions  and  whole  groundwork  of 
the  subject  were  thus  laid  out  by  the  brother,  strengthened 
by  our  prayers,  we  parted  without  at  that  time  declaring 
anything,  and  refreshed  ourselves  with  breakfast,  where  we 
met  the  pious  and  honourable  lady  and  family  of  our  worthy 
host.  Two  full  hours  were  allowed  from  the  breaking  up  of 
the  morning  till  the  assembling  of  the  midday  diet,  which 
was  at  eleven  o'clock,  in  order  that  the  brethren  might  each 
one  try  and  prove  himself  before  the  Lord  upon  the  great 
questions  at  issue,  and  that  we  might  come  together  with 
convictions,  not  with  uncertain  persuasions,  and  speak  from 
the  conscience,  not  from  present  impressions.  And  when  we 
assembled,  and  had  shortly  sought  the  Divine  favour  to  con- 
tinue with  us,  an  office  generally  performed  by  our  reverend 
Moderator,  he  proceeded  in  due  course  to  ask  each  man  for 
his  convictions  upon  the  subject  which  had  been  laid  before 
us  in  the  morning ;  and  the  rest  diligently  used  their  pen  in 
catching  the  spirit  of  what  dropped  from  each  other's  lips. 
No  appeal  was  allowed  but  to  the  Scriptures,  of  which  the 
originals  lay  before  us  ;  in  the  interpretation  of  which,  if  any 
question  arose,  we  had  the  most  learned  Eastern  scholar 
perhaps  in  the  world  to  appeal  to,  and  a  native  Hebrew  —  I 
mean  Joseph  Wolff.  In  this  way  did  every  man  proceed  to 
lay  out  the  nature  and  ground  of  his  convictions,  which  was 
done  with  so  much  liberty,  and  plentifulness,  and  mutual 
respect  and  reverence  of  the  Holy  Word,  as  much  to  delight 
our  souls.  Now  this  diet,  lasted  oft  four,  and  sometimes 
almost  five  hours, — our  aim  being  to  gather  the  opinions  of 
every  one  before  we  parted  ;  and  when  we  tired,  we  refreshed 
ourselves  with  prayer,  which  also  we  regarded  as  our  main 
defence  ag^ainst  Satan.  This  diet  also  we  closed  with  an 
offering  of  thanksgiving  by  any  of  the  clerical  brethren  whom 
the  Moderator  might  jDitch  upon.  After  dinner  we  again 
proceeded,  about  seven  o'clock,  to  the  work  of  winding  up 


394  lUVIXG  S   VERSES. 

and  conohuliii!:^  the  whole  subject;  but  iu  a  more  easy  and 
familiar  manner,  as  being  seated  round  the  fire  of  the  groat 
lil»rary-room,  yet  still  looking  to  a  moderator,  and  with  the 
same  diligent  attention  to  order,  each  seeming  desirous  to 
record  everything  that  was  said.  This  went  on  by  the  pro- 
pounding of  any  question  or  difficulty  which  had  occurred 
duriug  th^  day,  addressed  to  him  who  had  opened  the  sub- 
ject, or  to  any  other  able  to  resolve  it :  and  so  we  proceeded 
till  towards  eleven  o'clock,  when  the  whole  duties  of  the  day 
were  concluded  by  the  singing  of  a  hymn,  and  the  offering 
Tip  of  an  evening  prayer.  Such  were  the  six  days  we  spent 
inider  the  holy  and  hospitable  roof  of  Albury  House,  within 
the  chime  of  the  church  bell,  and  surrounded  by  the  most 
picturesque  and  beautiful  forms  of  nature.  But  the  sweetest 
spot  was  that  council-room  where  I  met  the  servants  of  the 
Lord  —  the  wise  virgins  waiting  with  oil  in  their  lamps  for 
the  bridegi'oom ;  and  a  sweeter  still  was  that  secret  chamber 
where  I  met  in  the  spirit  my  Lord  and  Master,  whom  I  hope 
soon  to  meet  in  the  flesh." 

And  upon  this  the  warm  emotions  of  the  preacher  burst 
forth  into  verse — verse  less  melodious  and  full  of  poetry 
than  his  ordinary  diction,  but  not  less  the  expression 
of  those  high-pitched  and  lyrical  chmaxes  of  feehng 
which  naturally  find  utterance  in  rliythm  and  cadence. 
The  narrative,  however,  wliich  Ir\dng  gives  in  such 
detail,  redeems  the  singular  assembly  out  of  that  obh- 
vion  into  which  it  and  its  proceedings  have  since  fallen. 
What  their  deliberations  were,  or  the  results  of  them, 
is  neither  important  to  this  history,  nor  is  the  present 
writer  qualified  to  enter  into  such  a  subject.  Tliey  who 
had  set  their  chiefest  hopes  upon  the  personal  appear- 
ance of  our  Lord,  at  a  period  which  some  actu- 
ally fixed,  and  all  regarded  as  close  at  hand,  looked 
also,  as  a  necessary  preHminary  of  that  appearance,  for 
a  personal  development  of  evil,  more  remarkable  and 


THE   ANTICHRIST.  395 

decided  than  anything  that  had  preceded  it ;  and  had 
so  identified  and  conchided  upon  the  source  from  which 
this  antichrist  was  to  come,  that  the  ruin  of  the  First 
Napoleon,  and  the  death  of  his  harmless  and  unfortunate 
son,  had  so  much  effect  upon  one,  at  least,  of  the  dis- 
appointed expounders  of  prophecy,  as,  when  fact  could 
no  longer  be  contradicted,  to  bring  an  ilhiess  upon  him. 
This  gentleman,  as  common  rumour  reports,  first  de- 
clared that  it  could  not  be,  and  then  "  took  to  his  bed  " 
in  dire  disappointment  and  distress. 

A  more  formal  accoimt  of  the  deliberations  and  con- 
clusions of  this  extraordinary  little  assembly  was  pub- 
hshed  by  Mr.  Drummond  himself,  first  in  1827,  and 
afterwards  when  the  successive  meetmgs  took  place. 
These  reports,  however,  being  given  in  the  form  of 
dialogues  conducted  by  Philalethes,  Anastasius,  &c.,  are 
by  that  masquerade  so  withdrawn  out  of  all  recognisable 
individuahty,  that  neither  the  persons  who  took  part 
in  the  conference,  nor  the  liistorian  of  it  himself, — 
piquant  and  characteristic  as  are  his  other  ^vritmgs, — 
are  able  to  throw  any  perceptible  token  of  their  presence 
through  the  chaos  of  words  and  consultations.     The 
assembly  only  meets  agaui  in  Irving's  Preface^  and  in  a 
hghter  sketch  made   by  the   missionaiy  Wolff,   who, 
about  this  time,  had  come  over  to  England  under  the 
patronage  of  the  pious  autocrat  of  Albury.     "  Within 
the  chime  of  the  church  bell,"  as  Irving  says — looking 
out  upon  the  woods    and   lawns  which  inclosed  that 
venerable    remnant   of  ancient   masonry,    within   the 
walls  of  which  another  ritual  and   a   fuller   worship 
were  to  connect  and  commemorate  the  names  of  Ii'ving 
and  Drummond,  occurred  this  conference  — the  begin- 


n96  A    lll'.KALl)    OF    TlIM    l,<iKI)S    CO.MI.N'C;. 

ning  of  tlie  second  rlinjitcr  of  llic  pronchor's  career — a 
]')rayerful  rrfrriil  n|"  i>icly,  siirr<>uii(le(l  l)y  all  llie  genial 
oUservauces  of  ]u)>j)ilalily  ami  liimiaii  commuiiioii.  It 
is  an  era  of  no  small  iin])ortaii(e  in  Irviiig's  life.  Doubt- 
less a  more  than  usual  aAvakciiing  of  general  interest  on 
tlie  subject  of  prophecy — so  often  Kl'l  in  the  mystery 
wliicli  can  never  be  fully  cleared  up  until  the  end 
come — was  evidenced  by  a  consultation  so  remarkable. 
But  of  the  men  there  assembled,  there  was,  perhaps,  no 
such  indivisible  man  as  Irvini;- — none  so  liable  to  be 
seized  upon  by  the  splendid  expectation,  Avhich  was 
henceforward,  more  or  less,  to  abstract  his  thoughts  from 
things  more  earthly  ;  or  to  give  himself  up,  with  such 
ever-increasing  devotion,  as  a  herald  of  his  Lord's 
coming.  This  he  did  henceforth,  often  losing,  in  the 
breathless  interest  of  his  tlieme,  all  regard  to  those 
necessary  boundaries  of  time  and  space,  of  which  he 
never  had  been  too  observant. 

His  companions  are  described  generally  as  ministers 
and  meml3ers  of  all  the  different  orthodox  churches — 
men  both  la}-  and  clerical ;  some  of  them  already  dis- 
tinguished, and  some  who  were  hereafter  to  become  so. 
Mr.  Hatley  Frere,  who,  according  to  his  own  testimony, 
was  the  first  to  turn  Ti'viiig's  tlionghts  towards  pro- 
phecy; Mr.  Lewis  Way,  whose  publications  on  the 
Second  Advent  Lrvino;  cites,  alonn;  M'illi  his  own  and 
that  of  Ben-Ezra,  as  a  token  of  the  unity  of  three 
churches  in  the  one  great  doctrine  ;  the  Eev.  Hugh 
M'Xeil,  since  so  notable  a  member  of  his  party  in  the 
church  ;  along  with  Wolff,  Drummond,  and  Irving,  are 
the  only  members  named  at  this  early  conference.  But 
the  solemnity  of  the  meeting,  the  importance  which  all 


SIGIS^S   OF   THE   TIMES.  397 


its  members  felt  to  attach  to  it,  and  the  evident  curiosity- 
it  awakened,  make  it  of  itself  a  remarkable  incident  in 
the  history  of  its  time.  That  time  was  clearly  a  time  of 
expectation.  An  age  of  great  events  was  just  over,  and 
the  public  mind  had  not  yet  accustomed  itself  to  the 
domestic  calm.  At  home  the  internal  economy  of  the 
country  was  sweUing  with  great  throes  —  agonies  in 
which  many  people  saw  prognostics  most  final  and  fatal. 
Out  of  all  the  visible  chaos,  what  a  joyful,  magnificent 
dehverance,  to  believe  —  through  whatsoever  anguish 
the  troubled  but  short  interval  might  pass — that  the  Lord 
was  coming  visibly  to  confound  his  enemies  and  vindi- 
cate his  people  !  No  wonder  they  assembled  at  Albury 
to  build  themselves  up  in  that  splendid  hope  ;  no  wonder 
the  empire  thrilled,  through  some  thoughtful,  and  many 
believing  minds  at  the  mere  name  of  such  an  expecta- 
tion ; — least  wonder  of  all,  that  a  mind  always  so  lofty 
and  attuned  to  high  emotions  as  that  of  Irving,  should 
have  given  itself  over  to  the  contemplation ;  or  should 
shortly  begin  to  cast  wistful  looks  over  all  the  world, 
not  only  for  prophecies  fulfilled,  but  for  signs  approach- 
ing— watching  the  gleams  upon  the  horizon  which 
should  herald  the  advent  of  the  Lord. 

Tliis  meeting,  he  tehs  us,  delayed  the  completion 
and  publication  of  the  book  wdiich  had  cost  him  so 
much  toil ;  but  it  was  after  all  only  the  January 
of  1827,  when  that  laborious  performance,  with 
the  long  preface,  which  occupies  half  of  an  octavo 
volume,  and  is  one  of  his  finest  and  most  characteristic 
productions,  was  "  offered  to  the  Church."  I  can  find  no 
evidence  of  the  amount  of  favour  which  Ben-Ezra 
and  his  work  attained  in  the  Church  ;  but  the  transla- 


398  THE    FIFE   BANK. 

tor  s  preface  lias  been  often  quoted,  and  was  re-printed 
in  a  separate  form,  along  Avitli  .scMiie  other  of  Irving's 
shortest  and  least  known  publications,  a  few  years  ago, 
by  some  of  his  admirers  in  Glasgow. 

The  year  182G  contains  few  letters  and  little  do- 
mestic  incident.  Once  only,  besides  that  picture  of 
the  tender  seclusion  and  generous  labours  of  the  little 
fi^mily  at  Beckenham,  which  I  have  already  instanced, 
the  clouds  open  round  the  Pentonville  house.  It  is  to 
show  the  great  preacher  and  his  wife  consulting  toge- 
ther over  a  calamity  which  has  suddenly  fallen  upon 
her  father's  family.  The  minister  of  Kirkcaldy  had 
been  the  unfortunate  possessor  of  shares  in  the  Fife 
Bank  —  a  local  joint-stock  banking  company  —  which 
had  fallen  into  sudden  ruin  by  the  misconduct  of  some 
of  its  managers ;  such  an  occurrence  as  unhappily  has 
been  familiar  enough  to  us  all  in  more  recent  days. 
Immediately  upon  hearing  of  it,  the  first  impulse  of 
Irving  was  consolation  and  lielp.  He  and  his  Isabella 
took  the  matter  into  tender  consideration — so  much 
money  was  expected  from  a  new  publication — so  much 
was  at  present  in  hand  ;  and  with  suggestions  of  lofty 
comfort  in  his  heart,  and  warm,  instantaneous  filial  im- 
pulses of  aid,  he  thus  writes  to  the  laLlier  in  trouble  : — 

"  21st  January,  1826. 
"  My  dear  Father, — I  have  heard  from  Elizabeth  of  the  loss 
in  wliich  you  have  been  involved  by  wicked  and  worldly  men, 
which  is  nothing  new  in  the  history  of  God's  faithful  servants, 
and  ought  not  to  trouble  you.  He  that  hath  the  stars  in  his 
right  liand  may  say  to  you,  as  to  the  angel  of  the  Church 
of  Philadelphia,  *I  know  thy  poverty  (but  thou  art  rich).' 
Jiern ember  we  are  but  promised  to  live  by  the  altar,  and  the 
rest  is  so  much  burdensome  stewardry,  to  which  we  submit  in 


HELP   AND    CONSOLATION.  399 

accommodation  to  the  weakness  of  our  people There- 
fore, be  not  cast  down,  nor  let  my  dear  mother  be  cast  down. 
Though  the  worst  should  come  to  the  worst,  what  mattereth 
it  ?  The  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  still  ours,  unto  which  all 
things  shall  be  added.  And  unto  the  new  Jerusalem,  the 
city  of  our  habitation,  the  kings  do  bring  the  riches  of  the  earth. 
'"'  But  we  must  provide  things  honest  in  the  sight  of  all  men, 
that  the  name  of  Christ  and  his  Grospel  be  not  blasphemed, 
and  that  I  may  be  partaker  of  your  trial,  and  partaker  also  of 
your  joy  in  rising  above  it,  we,  Isabella  and  I,  must  be  allowed 

to  contribute   our  part I  shall   now   also  see  to  a 

fourth  edition  of  the  Orations,  the  third  having  been  nearly 
sold  off  some  months  ago.  .  .  .  Isabella  and  I  feel  much  for 
you  and  our  dear  mother,  but  we  are  not  amazed  or  con- 
founded as  if  some  strange  thing  had  befallen  you  .  .  ." 

This  letter  is  concluded  by  Mrs,  Irving,  with  tlie 
touching  argument  of  a  woman  and  a  mother.  "  If  we 
have  been  able  to  say,  '  The  will  of  the  Lord  be  done,' 
when  He  saw  meet  to  take  from  us  those  who  were  far 
more  dear  than  all  worldly  goods,"  writes  little  Ed- 
ward's mother,  her  heart  still  bleeding  from  that 
wound,  "  I  trust  you  will  be  enabled  to  take  well  the 
spoihng  of  your  goods."  It  was  thus  they  comforted 
each  other,  who  had  mourned  together. 

Early  in  1827,  the  church  in  Eegent  Square  —  over 
the  building  of  which  Irving  and  his  congregation  had 
watched  so  lovingly,  and  which  was  to  deliver  them 
from  the  crowds  and  commotion  of  the  little  Caledonian 
chapel  —  was  at  last  completed.  At  the  time  of  its  erec- 
tion, it  was  considered  the  handsomest  church  not  be- 
longing to  the  Establishment  (for  the  Presbyterians  of 
that  day,  proud  of  their  National  Church,  and  connection 
with  the  Scotch  Establishment,  would  have  done  an}- 
thing  sooner  than  allow  themselves  to  be  called  Dissen- 


400  orKXlNc;    OF    XATIOXAL   SCOTCH    CIIURCir. 

tei-s)  ill  L(^iuloii.  One  thousand  sittings  were  taken  at 
tlio  time  of  its  opening;  ;iik1  tlic  excellent  William  Hamil- 
ton writes,  in  all  the  pious  joy  of  a  church  ollicial,  about 
the  "gratifying  success  "  which  had  attended  the  open- 
ing services,  at  M-liich  Dr.  C'liiihiici's  olliciated.  "Dr. 
Chalmers."  writes  ]\lr.  I  hiinillon,  sending  the  ne\vs[)a[)ers 
wlucli  contained  an  account  of  these  services,  alone;  with 
Ins  own  jo}'ful  description,  to  his  future  wife,  the  sister- 
in-law  of  Irving,  in  Kirkcaldy  manse,  "was  so  highly 
pleased  with  his  stay  among  us,  that  he  spontaneously 
ofTered  to  pay  us  an  annual  visit.  He  has  complied 
Avitli  our  request  to  pubhsh  the  sermon  he  preached  at 
the  opening,  which  contained  a  powerfid  defence  of  our 
excellent  pastor,  and  a  most  eloquent  eulogium  on  his 
extraordinary  talents,  })iety,  and  worth,  which  was  not 
a  little  gratifying  to  the  congregation,  but  gall  and  worm- 
wood to  some  of  his  enemies  who  were  present."  On  the 
evening  of  the  same  Sunday,  Dr.  Gordon  of  Edinburgh, 
another  old  and  tried  friend  of  Irving,  preached;  and 
with  the  highest  auguries  of  increase  and  prosperity  — 
relieved  from  the  inconveniences  of  popularity  which 
they  had  felt  so  deeply,  and  able  at  last  to  appear,  not  in 
relays,  but  as  a  body  together,  —  the  congregation  into 
which  the  fifty  worshippers  of  Ilatton  Garden  had  grown 
entered  into  quiet  possessicju  of  tlie  handsome  church 
for  which  they  had  laboured  and  longed.  "  Both  Dr. 
Gordon  and  Dr.  Chalmers,"  says  the  affectionate  witness 
we  have  just  quoted,  "  love  our  friend,  and  bore  a  noble 
testimony  to  him  in  public  and  in  private  wherever 
they  went.  .  .  .  Our  session  now  consists  of  seven 
elders  and  seven  deacons  —  all,  I  believe,  sincerely  de- 
voted to  the  good  cause;  and  1  am  liajjpy  to  say  that 


UNA2^7MITY  OF   THE   CONGKEGATION.  401 

the  most  perfect  harmony  prevails  amongst  us,   and 
indeed  throughout  the  congregation." 

Such  were  the  domestic  circumstances  of  the  com- 
munity over  which  Irving  presided.  Inspired  by  his 
fervid  teaching,  they  beheved  themselves  estabhshed 
there  to  carry  out  "  a  work  which  is  hkely  to  be  the 
.  means,  in  God's  hand,  of  greatly  advancing  the  spiritual 
interests  of  our  countrymen  in  the  metropolis."  By 
this  time  already  many  of  the  sermons  which  were 
afterwards  found  out  to  be  heretical,  had  been  preached 
and  Hstened  to  with  equal  unconsciousness  of  any 
divergence  from  the  orthodox  faith ;  and  the  una- 
nimity of  regard  and  admiration  with  which  the  people 
clung  to  their  leader  had  been  as  yet  rather  strengthened 
than  diminished  by  anything  that  had  been  alleged 
against  him.  The  long  services  in  which  he  would  not 
be  curtailed  ;  his  perpetual  determination,  notwithstand- 
ing the  overflowing  of  human  kindness  in  his  heart,  to 
be  among  them  the  priest,  the  pastor,  the  spiritual 
guide,  and  not  the  companion  and  friend  alone ; 
the  high  position  he  assumed,  and  uncompromising 
distinctness  of  his  attacks  upon  all  the  special  forms  of 
evil,  had  neither  lessened  the  confidence  nor  weakened 
the  affection  of  his  adherents.  People  who  steadily, 
and  not  capriciously  according  to  the  dictates  of  fashion, 
resorted  to  the  teaching  of  a  man  who  kept  them 
nearly  three  hours  at  a  stretch,  Sunday  after  Sunday, 
plunged  in  the  deepest  questions  of  rehgion — sometimes 
maintained  the  strain  of  an  argument  which  ascended 
into  the  secret  places  of  the  Trinity,  unfathomable 
mystery  —  sometimes  stirred  with  a2:)peals  and  ex- 
hortations which  excited  the  multitude  into   all  but 

VOL.  I.  D  D 


402  lu:.  (  iialmi:kss  diary. 

open  outcry,  must  indeed  liavc  been  under  tlie  sw.ay 
of  ti  fascination  seldom  exercised,  and  of  wliicli  few  men 
know  tlic  secret.  The  tliousand  souls,  who  at  its  earliest 
conuuencement  declared  their  allegiance  to  the  preacher 
in  his  new  church,  had  sulTered  this  test  of  their  sin- 
cerity ;  and  were  unanimous,  harmonious,  objecting 
neither  to  his  long  sermons,  nor  to  liis  orthodoxy. 
But  other  sentiments  had  begun  to  dawn  upon  other 
men. 

Dr.  Chalmers,  always  doubtful,  puzzled,  but  admir- 
ing, never  knowing  w^iat  to  make  of  this  genius,  wliich 
he  could  not  choose  but  acknowledge,  yet  which  was 
so  different  from  his  own,  and  in  some  respects  so  in- 
comprehensible to  it  —  Dr.  Chahners  writes  from  Lon- 
don to  his  wife,  Avitli  the  same  half-wondering,  half- 
comprehending  regard  which  was  visible  in  almost 
everything  he  said  of  Irving,  as  follow^s  : — 

"  IfkMay. — ]Mr.  Irving  made  his  appearance  and  took  me 
to  his  house,  where  I  drank  tea.  ]\Ir.  Miller  and  Mr.  ]\Iac- 
lean,  Scottish  ministers  of  the  London  Presbytery,  were  there. 
Their  talk  is  very  much  of  meetings  and  speeches.  Irving, 
though,  is  very  impressive,  and  I  do  like  the  force  and  rich- 
ness of  his  conversation Studied  about  two  hours,  and 

then  proceeded  to  take  a  walk  with  James.*  We  had  just 
gone  out,  when  we  met  Mr.  Irving.  He  begged  of  James  the 
privilege  of  two  or  three  hours  in  his  house,  to  study  a  sermon. 
I  was  vastly  tickled  with  this  new  instance  of  the  inroads  of 
Scotsmen  ;  however,  James  could  not  help  himself,  and  was 
obliged  to  consent.  We  were  going  back  to  a  family  dinner, 
and  I  could  see  the  alarm  that  was  felt  on  the  return  of  the 


•  A  brother  of  Dr.  Chalmers,  noted,  as  all  the  readers  of  his 
biography  will  remember,  for  a  certain  kind  churlishness,  and 
Bpecial  terror  of  the  cncroachmonts  of  Scotch  visitors,  and  the  uni- 
versal entertainment  and  introductory  letters  required  by  them. 


IRVING   KEEPS   CHALMEES  WAITING.  403 

great  Mr.  Irving,  who  was  very  easily  persuaded  to  join  us  at 
dinner,  and  the  study  was  all  put  to  flight.     There  was  not 
a  single  sentence  of  study  all  the  time  ;  and  notwithstanding 
Mrs.  C 's  alarm  about  the  shabbiness  of  the  dinner,  every- 
thing went  on  most  delightfully.  Irving  intermingled  the  serious 
and  the  gay,  took  a  good,  hearty  repast,  and  really  charmed 
even  James  himself,  so  that  I  was  very  glad  of  the  inroad  that 
had  been  made  upon  him.     Thursday. — Irving  and  I  went  to 
Bedford  Square.     Mr.  and  Mrs.  Montagu  took  us  out  in  their 
carriage  to  Highgate,  where  we  spent  three  hours  with  the 
great  Coleridge.     His  conversation  flowed  in  a  mighty  un- 
remitting stream.     You  know  that  Irving  sits  at  his  feet,  and 
drinks  in  the  inspiration  of  every  syllable  that  falls  from  him. 
There  is  a  secret  and,  to  me,  unintelligible  communion  of  spirit 
between  them,  on  the  ground  of  a  certain  German  mysticism, 
and   transcendental   lake  poetry  which  I  am  not  yet  up  to. 
Friday. — Mr.  Irving  conducted  the  preliminary  services  in  the 
National    Church.     There  was  a  prodigious  want  of  tact  in 
the   length  of  his  prayers — forty  minutes;    and  altogether 
it  was  an  hour  and  a  half  from  the  commencement  of  the 
service  ere  I  began.  .  .  .  The  dinner  took  place  at  five  o'clock. 
JNIany  speeches.     Irving  certainly  errs  in  the  outrunning  of 
sympathy." 

The  length  of  this  prehminary  service  seems  to  have 
troubled  the  great  Scotch  preacher  mightily.  He  ap- 
pears to  have  felt,  with  true  professional  disgust,  the 
wearing  out  of  that  audience  which  properly  belonged 
not  to  Irving,  but  to  himself.  Long  after,  he  recurs  to 
the  same  incident  in  a  conversation  with  Mr.  J.  J. 
Gurney.  "  I  undertook  to  open  Irving's  new  church  in 
London,"  says  the  discontented  divine.  "  The  congre- 
gation, in  their  eagerness  to  obtain  seats,  had  ah-eady 
been  assembled  three  hours.  Living  said  he  would  assist 
me  by  reading  a  chapter  for  me.  He  chose  the  longest 
in  the  Bible,  and  went  on  for  an  hour  and  a  half.  On 
another  occasion  he  offered  me  the  same  aid,  adding, 

»   D   2 


404  Dli.    C11AL.M1:K8   fc^llAKHS    HIS   iii:ai). 

'  I  rail  1)0  short.'  I  said,  'llow  long  will  it  take  you?' 
'Only  an  hour  and  forty  niiiuitcs.' " 

Such  an  iui^hscrution  ^\■a.s  likely  to  go  to  the  heart  of 
the  waiting  preacher.  Dr.  Chalmers  never  seems  to 
h a vi^  forgotten  tliat  inipaticMit  int(>rval,  during  which  he 
had  to  sh  by  silent,  and  see  his  friend  take  the  bloom 
of  expectation  ofl'  tlie  audience,  which  had  come  not 
to  hear  Irving,  but  Chalmers.  In  all  his  after  re- 
marks, a  reminiscence  of  his  own  sore  experience 
recui-s.  On  the  following  Saturday,  he  records  that 
"  Mr.  Gordon  informed  me  that  yesternight,  ]\Ir.  Irvhig 
preached  on  his  })rophecies  at  Hackney  cliaj)el  fur  two 
hours  and  a  half ;  and  though  very  powerful,  yet  the 
people  Avere  di'()p])ing  away.  I  really  fear  lest  his 
prophecies,  and  the  excessive  lengtJi  and  weariness  of 
his  services,  may  unship  liim  altogether,  and  I  mean  to 
■write  to  him  seriously  on  the  subject." 

This  was  the  impression  of  a  stranger,  unaware  of  the 
long  training  by  which  Irving  had  accustomed  his  peo- 
ple to  these  prolonged  addresses  ;  and  also  of  an  elder, 
and — .so  far  as  experience  went — superio]-  in  the  Church, 
who  was  slow  to  forget  that  "  the  great  Mr.  Irving  "  had 
once  been  his  own  nameless  assistant  and  subordinate. 
With  dissatisfied  and  doubtfnl  eyes, the  celebrated  Scotch 
preacher  contemplated  the  apparently  brilliant  and  en- 
couraging position  of  his  friend.  The  practicable,  which 
did  not  trouble  Ir\ing,  was  strongly  present  in  the  mind 
of  Chalmers.  He,  with  both  feet  planted  steadily  on 
the  common  soil,  cast  a  troubled  eye  upon  the  soaring 
spirit  which  scorned  the  common  restraints  of  possi- 
bility. He  shakes  his  head  as  lie  tells  his  wife  of  the 
mingled  fascination  and  im])rudence  visible  to  himself 


IMPORTANT   CRISIS.  405 

in  this  incomprehensible  man.  Chalmers,  too,  was 
capable  of  following  one  idea  with  the  most  absorbing 
enthusiasm ;  but  his  ideas  were  those  of  statesmanship, 
practicable  and  to  be  worked  out ;  and  with  the  eyes  of 
a  wisdom  which,  if  not  worldly,  was  at  least  substantial, 
and  fully  aware  of  all  the  restrictions  of  humanity,  he 
looked  on  doubtfully  at  a  man  who  calculated  no  pos- 
sibihties,  and  who  estimated  the  capacities  of  human 
natm^e,  not  fi^om  among  the  levels  of  ordmary  life, 
but  from  the  mountain  top  of  his  own  elevated  and 
impassioned  spirit.  Dr.  Chalmers  shook  his  head. 
What  else  coidd  a  man  of  reason  and  ordinary  pru- 
dence do  ?  Nothing  could  be  certainly  predicated  of 
such  a  career  as  that  which,  under  changed  circum- 
stances, made  now  a  new,  and  to  aU  appearance,  pros- 
perous beginning.  Triumph  or  nun  might  be  beyond ; 
scarcely  the  steady  progress  and  congregational  ad- 
vancement, which  is  the  only  advancement  in  life  open 
to  the  hopes  of  an  orthodox  Scotch  minister.  Such  a 
progress,  happy  but  uneveutfid — a  yearly  roU  of  addi- 
tional members,  perhaps  a  hundred  pounds  or  so  of 
additional  income,  a  recognised  place  on  the  platfonn 
of  Exeter  HaU — was  not  a  natural  vaticination  of  the 
future  course  of  Edward  Irving  ;  and  over  anything  else, 
what  could  Chalmers — what  could  any  other  sober- 
minded,  clerical  spectator  do  otherwise  than  shake  his 
head  ?  Something  was  like  to  come  of  it  too  far  out 
of  the  ordinary  coiuse  to  yield  ordhiary  comfort  or 
happiness  ;  and  I  don't  doubt  that  Chalmers  returned  to 
Scotland  alarmed  and  uneasy,  comprehenduig  as  httle 
what  would  be  the  end,  as  he  entered  into  the  thoughts 
and  emotions  which  were  brino-ino-  that  end  about. 


406  "  F;VSIIIO.\    Wi:XT   IIKR    IDLE    WAY." 

And,  iiulced,  it  was  a  crisis  of  no  small  importance. 
U])  to  tliis  tinit\    tlic    ])ronclicr  and  liis  congregation 
luid    been    in    exeeplional    circumstances.     They  had 
never  been  able  to  make  experiment  of  that  calm  con- 
gregational existence.     Crowded  out  of  the  httle  Cale- 
donian chapel  for  years,  their  hopes  had  gone  forward 
to  that  new  climxli  wliich  was  to  be  a  khid  of  national 
centre  in  the  noisy  capital,  and  the  completion  of  which 
Avas  to  open  the  way  to  a  great  and  extended  mission. 
It  was  only  natural  that  all  the  projects  and  hopes  both 
of  leader  and  people  should  fix  upon  that  place  as  the 
scene  of  the  result  and  issue  to  their   great   labours. 
Doubtless  they  did  so  unawares.    For  years  the  preacher 
had  been  used  to  see  round  him  an  unusual  exceptional 
crowd,  drawn  out  of  all  regions,  necessarily  unsteady 
and  lluctuatino; — a  crowd  which  he  could  charm  and 
thrill  and  overawe  for  the  moment,  but  out  of  which 
few  results  could  be  visible.     Now  was  the  time  to  test 
"vvhat  had  been   done   in  that  flatterinix   overflow  of 
popular  admiration.      If,  as  Carlyle  says,  "  hopes  of  a 
new  moral  reformation  "  had  fired  the  preacher's  heart 
— if,  with  the  flattered  expectation  of  a  popular  idol 
he  was  watching  to  see  the  "  sons  of  Mammon,  and  high 
sons  of  Behal  and  Beelzebub  become  sons  of  God,  and 
the  gumflowers  of  Almack's  to  be  made  hving  roses  in 
a  new  Eden  " — now  was  the  time  to  test  that  dream. 
The  tiny  chapel  where  celebrities  could  not  be  over- 
looked, and  where  the  crowd  never  could  lessen  —  first 
chapter  and  preparatory  stage  of  the  history — was  now 
left  in  the  quiet  of  the  past;  and  with  full  space  to  col- 
lect and  receive  all  who  sought  him,  and  the  highest 
expectations  and  hopes  of  now  seeing  the  fruits  of  his 


IRVING'S   OWN   EVIDENCE   ON   THE    SUBJECT.  407 

labour,  Irving  entered  that  new  temple,  whence  a 
double  blessing  was  to  descend  upon  his  people's 
prayers.  If  fashion  had  crazed  him  with  her  mo- 
mentary adulation,  here  was  the  critical  point  at  which 
fashion  and  he  parted ;  the  beginning  of  a  disenchant- 
ment which,  next  to  personal  betrayal,  is  perhaps  the 
hardest  experience  in  the  world. 

This  has  been  accepted  by  many  —  and  asserted  by 
one  who  knew  him  thoroughly,  and  from  whose  judg- 
ment I  know  not  how  to  presume  to  differ — as  the  secret 
cause  of  all  the  darker  shadows  and  perplexing  singu- 
larities of  his  later  life.  I  am  as  little  able  to  cope 
with  Mr.  Carlyle  in  philosophic  insight  as  I  am  in 
personal  knowledge ;  I  can  only  take  my  appeal  to 
Irving  himself  in  the  singular  journal  which  has  already 
been  given.  If  that  record  shows  any  trace  of  a  man 
whose  heart  has  been  caught  in  the  meshes  of  the 
social  enchantress  ;  if  he  looks  to  have  Circe's  cup  in 
his  hand  as  he  goes  pondering  through  those  streets  of 
Bloomsbury  and  PentonviUe,  or  with  anxious  care  and 
dehcacy  visits  the  doubtful  believer  in  Fleet  Market, 
and  comforts  the  sorrowfid  souls  who  seek  his  kindness 
in  the  nameless  lanes  of  the  city,  I  am  willing  to  allow 
that  this  was  the  influence  that  set  his  mind  astray. 
But  if  the  readers  of  this  history  are  as  unable  as 
myself  to  perceive  any  trace  of  that  intoxication  —  an 
intoxication  too  well  known  in  all  its  symptoms,  and 
too  often  seen  to  be  recognised  with  difficulty  —  another 
clue  may  be  reasonably  required  for  this  mystery.  I 
can  find  no  evidence  whatever,  except  in  what  he  him- 
self says  in  the  dedication  of  his  Sermons  to  Mr.  Basil 
Montagu,  of  even  a  tendency  on  Irving's  part  to  be 


408  KEALITV. 

carried  away  by  tliat  brilliant  social  stream.  lie  speaks' 
of  himself  there  as  "being  tempted  to  go  forth, in  the 
simplicity  of  my  heart,  into  those  high  and  noble  circles 
of  society  ^vhich  were  then  open  to  me,  and  which 
must  either  have  engulfed  me  by  their  enormous  attrac- 
tions, or  else  repelled  my  simple  affections,  shattered 
and  befooled,  to  become  the  mockery  and  contempt  of 
eveiy  envious  and  disappointed  railer."     But  that  was 
at  the  earliest  period  of  his  London  experience.     The 
master  of  the  Pentouville  household,  with  all  its  quaint 
and  simple  economics,  with  its  domestic  services,  fre- 
quented not  by  the  great,  and  its  stream  of  homely 
guests — the  faithful  priest,  exercising  all  the  human 
courtesies  and  Christian  tendernesses  of  his  nature  to 
win  a  sullen,  London  errand-boy,  or  convince  a  sceptic 
of  the  humblest  ranks — Avho  is  not  to  be  moved  by 
the  representatioiLs  even  of  his  anxious  elders  to  shorten 
his  services  by  half-an-hour,  or  adapt  himself  to  the 
necessities  of  his  popularity, —  is,  on  his  own  evidence, 
the   most   unlike    a   man    carried    away  and    crazed 
by  the  worsliip    of   Fashion   that   can  be  conceived. 
K  he  had  been  such  a  man,  here  was  the  sickening 
moment  when  the  sjrren  visibly  went  her  way.      The 
crowd  that  fluctuated  in  the  tiny  aisles  of  the  Caledonian 
chapel,  and  presented  the  preacher  with  a  wonderful, 
suggestive,  moving  panorama  of  the  great  world  without, 
which  he  addressed  through  these  thronged  and  ever- 
changing  faces,  settled  into  steady  identity  in  Kegent 
Square.     The  throng  ceased  in  that  spacious  interior. 
Those  mists  of  mfmitude  cleared  off  from   the   per- 
manent horizon  — "  Fashion  went  her  idle  way,"  Mr. 
Carlyle  says :    indisputably   the   preacher   must  have 


CESSATION    OF   THE    CROWD.  409 

learned  that  he  was  no  longer  addressing  the  world, 
the  nation,  the  great  capital  of  the  world,  but  a  certain 
clearly  definable  number  of  its  population — a  congrega- 
tion, in  short,  and  not  an  age. 

This  great  change  happened  to  Irving  at  the  moment 
when  he  had-  apparently  arrived  at  the  beginning 
of  his  harvest-time.  The  office-bearers  of  his  church 
found  the  fruit  they  sought  in  the  roll  of  seat- 
holders  and  communicants,  the  visible  increase  which 
had  promoted  them  from  the  Caledonian  chapel  to 
the  National  Scotch  church.  But  to  the  preacher 
the  efiect  must  have  been  wonderfully  different  — 
as  different  as  reahty  always  is  from  expectation.  At 
the  end  of  that  uncertain,  brilHant  probation,  which 
seemed  to  promise  results  the  most  glorious,  he  woke 
and  found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  large  congregation. 
It  was  all  his  friends  could  have  wished  for  hun  —  the 
highest  amount  of  external  success  which  his  Chiurch 
acknowledg;ed.  But  it  was  an  indifferent  cHmax  to  the 
lofty  hopes  of  the  great  evangelist.  Yet  this  great 
shock  and  crisis  seems  to  have  been  encountered  and 
got  through  unconsciously,  with  no  such  effects  as  might 
have  been  anticipated.  There  is,  indeed,  no  evidence 
that  Irving  was  himself  aware  when  he  passed  out  of 
that  wdde  horizon  of  hope  and  possibihty,  into  the  dis- 
tinct field  laid  out  for  him  under  the  smoky  canopy 
of  London  sky.  Yet  here  is  the  evident  point  when 
that  transition  happened.  The  wide  popular  current 
ebbed  away  from  the  contracted  ways  of  Hatton  Garden, 
and  subsided  into  a  recos^nisable  congregation  in  Kegent 
Square.  "  The  church  was  always  well  filled,  but  no 
longer  crowded,"  says  the  calm  ofiicial  retrospect  of  the 


410  "  THE    PLATE." 

present  community  belonging  to  tliat  church.  Fashion 
then  and  tliere  took  lier  departure ;  l)ut  so  far  from 
phniging  into  Avikl  attempts  to  re-attract  her  fickle  de- 
votion, the  preacher  seems  to  have  gone  on  imconscious, 
%vithout  even  being  aware  of  what  had  happened  to 
liim.  Years  intervened,  and  the  fervent  beginnings  of 
thought — then  only  appearing  in  a  firmament  where  the 
liidden  lights  came  out  one  by  one,  all  unforeseen  by 
the  eager  gazer  till  they  startled  him  with  sudden  illu- 
minations—  came  to  developments  never  unaccordant 
with  the  nature  that  produced  them,  tliough  mysterious 
and  often  sad  enoucjh  to  the  calm  looker-on,  before  the 
world  wliich  had  subsided  out  of  its  frenzy  of  admira- 
tion was  tempted  to  retm-n  into  a  frenzy  of  curiosity 
and  wonder.  In  the  meantime,  living's  sober-minded 
Scottish  friends  left  hun  in  his  new  beginning  with 
alanns  and  uneasy  forebodings,  not  that  he  would  peril 
his  understanding  in  attempts  to  retain  his  popularity, 
but  that  the  unmanageable  sublimation  and  prophet- 
spirit  of  the  man,  inaccessible  as  tliey  felt  it  to  all  such 
motives,  would  ruin  his  popularity  altogether. 

Some  years  before  two  silver  salvers  had  been  pre- 
sented to  Ir\dng  by  the  grateful  office-bearers  of  the 
Scotch  church  in  Liverpool.  When  the  National  Scotch 
church  was  opened,  he  presented  them,  with  an  im- 
pulse of  natural  munificence,  for  the  service  of  the 
house  of  God.  Ever}d3ody  at  all  acquainted  with  the 
usages  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  must  be  aw^are  of 
the  collection  made  weekly  at  the  doors  of  every  place 
of  worship  —  a  collection  entirely  voluntary,  yet  so 
thorough  "an  institution,"  that,  to  an  old-fashioned 
Scotsman,   the  fact  of   passing   "  the  plate "  without 


IRVING's   offering.  411 

depositing  a  coin  in  it,  would  be  something  like  a  petty 
crime.  The  fund  thus  collected  is  entitled  the  Session 
Eund,  and  is  in  parish  churches  appropriated  to  the 
relief  of  the  poor ;  and  it  was  from  this  fund  alone  that 
Chalmers,  in  the  day  of  his  reign  in  Glasgow,  provided 
for  the  poor  of  his  parish,  and  abohshed  pauper- 
ism in  St.  John's.  Irving  designed  his  silver  salvers 
for  the  reception  of  this  weekly  bounty,  and  presented 
them  to  the  church  on  the  day  of  its  opening,  engraven 
with  the  following  inscription  : — 

"  These  two  plates  I  send  to  the  National  Scotch  church, 
London,  on  this  the  11th  of  May,  1827,  the  day  of  its  opening, 
that  they  may  stand  on  each  side  of  the  door  to  receive  the 
offerings  for  the  Poor,  and  all  other  gifts  of  the  congregation 
of  the  Lord  in  all  time  coming  while  He  permits.  And  if  at 
any  time,  which  Grod  forbid,  the  fountain  of  the  people's 
charity  should  be  dried  up,  and  the  Poor  of  the  Lord's  house 
be  in  want  of  bread,  or  His  house  itself  under  any  restraint  of 
debt,  I  appoint  that  they  shall  be  melted  into  shillings  and 
sixpences,  for  the  relief  of  the  same,  so  far  as  they  will  go. 

"Edward  Irving,  A.M., V.D.M. 

"  Minister  of  the  National  Scotch  Church,  London." 

Irving's  purpose,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  was  not  carried 
out.  The  elders,  more  prudent  and  less  splendid  than 
he,  imagined  or  discovered  that  the  show  of  the  silver 
at  the  door  of  the  church,  even  though  watched  over 
by  two  of  their  members,  would  be  too  great  a  tempta- 
tion to  the  clever  thieves  about.  Irving's  salvers  were 
altogether  withdrtiwu  from  the  office  of  receiving  the 
pennies  and  sixpences  of  the  congregation,  and  were 
placed,  where  they  still  remain,  among  the  communion 
plate  of  the  church  in  Eegent  Square. 


412  THE   BIBLE   SOCIETY. 

The  only  public  appearance  which  he  is  recorded  to 
have  made  at  this  period  was  at  one  of  the  field  days  of 
the  lonu^  and  warm  intestine  wai*  which  at  that  time 
was  raging  in  the  Bible  Societ}-,  The  conduct  of  that 
Society  generally  liad  not  been  agreeable  to  Irving. 
Going  to  the  meetings  of  its  London  Committee  as  to 
the  assembling  of  a  body  of  men  engaged  in  the  ser- 
vice of  rehgion,  he  had  been  at  once  chilled  and  startled 
by  the  entirely  secular  nature  of  tlieir  proceedings. 
When  he  remonstrated,  he  was  answered  that  they  were 
not  missionaries,  but  booksellers ;  and  this  was  doubtless 
one  of  the  points  at  which  the  vulgar  business,  and 
busthng  secularity  of  the  religious  world  disgusted  a 
man  who  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  a  mere 
connnunity  of  booksellers,  nor  could  understand  why 
the  Chm'ch's  interest  should  be  specially  claimed  for 
such.  His  indignation  and  protest  on  this  point,  how- 
ever, were  private  ;  the  controversy  was  a  pubhc  one, 
and  liad  now  lasted  for  many  years.  The  question  was 
whether  or  not  the  Apociypha  should  be  issued  along 
-with  the  canonical  Scriptures  as  a  part  of  the  Bible, 
wliich  the  Society  professed  themselves  commissioned 
to  spread  throughout  the  world.  The  warmest  interest 
had  been  excited  hi  reUgious  circles  generally,  and 
especially  in  Scotland,  by  this  dispute.  North  of  the 
Tweed  the  Apocrypha  has  always  been  held  in  par- 
ticular abhorrence,  and  the  idea  of  supporting,  by  their 
labours  and  subscriptions,  a  Society  which  sent  forth 
this  spurious  revelation  along  with  the  canon  of  Scrip- 
ture, roused  the  pugnacious  kingdom  into  a  blaze  of 
displeasure  and  resistance.  The  Society  at  its  head- 
quarters stood  out  stoutly ;    why,  it  seems  impossible 


A   MAY   MEETING.  41 S 


to  find  out,  unless  by  an  instinct  of  self-assertion  and 
controversy ;    and  it   was  not   until  the  whole   com- 
munity was  in   commotion,   and   a   serious   secession 
threatened,  that  the  London  Committee  came  to  its 
senses.     Just  at  the  moment  when  it  was  about  do  so, 
at  the  Anniversary  Meeting  held  in  May  1827,  Irving 
made  his  appearance  in  the  place  of  meeting.     His  en- 
trance created   a   commotion    which   interrupted   the 
business — the  general  public,  apparently,  having  by  tliis 
time  come  to  understand  that  this  man  could  not  be 
regarded  with  calm  impartiahty,  but  must  either  be 
loved  or  hated.     The  tumult  raised  on  his  appearance 
naturally  aroused  the  orator  to  assert  himself,  and,  in- 
dependently of  the  timid  authority  of  the  chair,  to  make 
himself  heard.     It  is  difficult,  in  the  vague  account 
given,  to  find  out  what  "motion"  it  was  that  Irving 
supported,  or  what  was  accomphshed  by  the  forgotten 
assembly,  whose  cheers  and  hisses  would  have  long 
ago   passed   into   obhvion,   but   for   the    presence   of 
that  unusual  champion.     With  a  straightforward  man- 
fulness  and  simphcity,  which  look  quaint  and  out  of 
place  upon  such  a  platform,  and  which  must  have  been 
wonderfuUy  confusing  to  the  minds  of  the  Society,  he 
advises  them  to  "  acknowledge  that  they  are  exceedingly 
sorry."    And  when  this  suggestion   is   received   with 
mingled  liisses  and  applause,  he  indignantly  asks,  "Is 
there  any  member  of  the  Church  of  England  —  is  there 
any  consistent  Protestant  Dissenter — who  would  think  it 
at  ah  degrading  to  him  to  acknowledge  himself  in  error 
when  he  felt  he  was  so,  and  when  so  domg  would  heal 
'  the  wounds  which  had  been  inilicted  thereby,  and  so 
unite  a  whole  Christian  Church  to  the  Society  ?  Would 


414  A    MOMHNT   OF    DErRESSION. 

it  be  at  all  degrading  to  the  Committee  to  say  that  it  was 
Sony  that  that  whieh  is  not  tlie  Word  of  God  liad  been 
(say  uinvittingly,  or  unwarily,  I  mind  not  the  word) 
mixed  up  and  circulated  witli  the  ]5ook  of  God  ?  Let 
them,  I  say,  record  that  which  they  have  individually 
expressed  by  word  of  mouth  —  that  that  which  is  not 
the  Bread  of  Life  has  been  sent  out  to  the  world  as 
the  Bread  of  Life,  and  that  they  are  sorry!"  The  answer 
which  the  Bible  Society  or  its  Committee  gave  to  this 
appeal  is  not  recorded.  But  Irving  triumphantly  over- 
came the  opposition  against  his  own  appearance,  and 
retired  from  the  meeting,  which  he  did  immediately 
after  his  speech,  amid  universal  applause. 

In  the  meantime,  his  private  family  stoiy  went  on, 
amid  the  clouds  which,  having  once  descended,  so  often 
continue  to  overshadow  the  early  history  of  a  household. 
In  the  same  spring,  another  infant,  a  short-lived  little 
Mary,  came  to  a  house  saddened  by  the  long  and  serious 
illness  of  the  mother.  In  the  depression  occasioned  by 
this  interruption  of  domestic  comfort,  Irving  writes,  in 
a  mood  certainly  not  habitual,  but  from  which  such  a 
temperament  as  his  can  never  be  severed : 

"  For  myself,  I  feel  the  burden  of  sin  so  heavily,  and  the 
unprofitableness  of  this  vexed  life,  that  I  long  to  be  delivered 
from  it,  and  would  gladly  depart  when  the  Lord  may  please  : 
yet,  while  He  pleaseth,  I  am  glad  to  remain  for  His  Church's 
sake.  "^Tiat  I  feel  for  myself,  I  feel  for  my  dear  wife,  whom 
I  love  as  myself.  And  at  present  my  rejoicing  is,  that  she  is 
able  to  praise  Him  in  the  furnace  of  trial  and  the  fire  of 
affliction." 

In  another  and  Ijrighter  mood,  however,  he  writes 
the  following  letter,  fidl  of  projects,  to  Dr.  Martin  : — 


PROJECTS    FOR   THE   FUTURE.  415 

"  8tli  June,  1827. 
"  ]\Iy  dear  Father, — We  have  all  great  reason  of  thankful- 
ness to  the  Giver  of  all  gifts,  and  the  Fountain  of  all  strength, 
for  the  recovery  of  Isabella  and  the  children,  whose  health  is 
now  so  far  re-established,  as  that  Dr.  Darling  recommends 
her  going  to  the  country  in  a  few  days.     I  am  now  fairly 
entered  upon  my  duties  in  the  new  church,  and,  by  the  grace 
of  Grod,  have  begun  with  a  more  severe  self-devotion  to  secret 
study  and  meditation.     In  the  morning  I  propose  to  expound 
the  whole  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  in  order  to  clear  out  anew 
some  of  the  wells  of  salvation  which  have  been  choked  up,  at 
least  in  these  parts,  and  to  see  if  there  be  not   even  deeper 
springs  than  the  Reformers  reached.     In  the  evening  I  am  to 
discourse  upon  the  sixth  vial,  which  I  propose  as  a  sequel  to 
my  discourses  upon  Babylon  and  Infidelity  Foi'edoomed,  and 
which  I  intend  to  print  in  the  fall  of  the  year.     I  think  that, 
by  Grod's  blessing,  I  can  throw  a  new  and  steady  light  upon 
the  present  face  of  Christendom  and  the  world.     Besides  this, 
I  have  a  little  tribute  of  friendship  to  pay  to  Basil  jNIontagu 
....  and  an  aphoristic  history  of  the  Church  of  Scotland, 
from  the  primitive  times  to  this  time,  for  an  introduction  to 
a  work  containing  the  republication  of  our  authorised  books 
at  the  Eeformation.    It  is  for  man  to  design,  but  God  to  per- 
mit and  to  enable ;  yet,  if  He  spare  me,  I  hope  to   do  His 
Church  some  service.     I  ask  your  prayers,  and  entreat  solici- 
tously for  them ;  although  I  know  that  we  must  have  the 
spirit  of  prayer  in  ourselves  and  for  ourselves.     Farewell ; 
may  the  Lord  make  the  going  down  of  your  age  more  brilliant 
than  the  beginning  of  it,  and  enrich  you  all  with  His  divine 
grace,  and  enlighten  you  with  His  countenance.    Amen. 

"  Your  affectionate  son, 
"Edward  Irving." 

The  little  Mary  died  in  December  of  tlie  same  year. 
Thousrli  the  second  blow  does  not  seem  to  have  struck 
like  the  first,  it  deepened  the  channel  of  those  personal 
tears  first  wrung  from  Irving's  eyes  by  the  death  of  his 
httle  Edward  ;  and  quickened  into  pathetic  adoration 
his    thankfulness    for    the    almost    revelation,    as    he 


41G  LKCTURKS   OX   BAPTISM. 

believed  it,  -svliicli  luul  tlirown  liglit  upon  that  doctrine 
of  Baptism,  lieneefortli  to  be  held  as  one  of  the  brightest, 
comforting  inspirations  of  his  life.  The  volume  of 
Lectures  on  Baptism,  in  whicli  he  set  before  the  Church 
the  views  which  had  been  so  consolatory  to  liis  own  heart, 
was  prefiiced  by  the  following  touching  dedication  : 

"  To  Isabella  Irving,  my  wife,  and  the  mother  of  my  two 

departed  children. 

"]\Iy  honoured  and  beloved  Wife, —  I  believe  in  my  heart 
that  the  doctrine  of  the  holy  Sacraments,  which  is  contained 
in  these  two  Httle  volumes,  was  made  known  to  my  mind, 
first  of  all,  for  the  purpose  of  preparing  us  for  the  loss  of  our 
eldest  hoy ;  because  on  that  very  week  you  went  with  him  to 
Scotland,  whence  he  never  returned,  my  mind  was  directed 
to  meditate  and  preach  these  discourses  upon  the  standing 
of  the  baptized  in  the  Church,  which  form  the  sixth  and 
seventh  of  the  Homilies  on  Baptism.  I  believe  it  also,  be- 
cause, long  before  our  Httle  Edward  was  stricken  by  the  hand 
of  God  in  Scotland,  I  was  led  to  open  these  views  to  you  in 
letters,  which,  by  God's  grace,  were  made  efficacious  to  con- 
vince your  mind.  I  believe  it,  furthermore,  because  the 
thought  contained  in  these  homilies  remained  in  my  mind 
Uke  an  unsprung  seed,  until  it  was  watered  by  the  common 
tears  we  shed  over  our  dying  INIary.  From  that  time  forth  I 
felt  that  the  truth  concerning  baptism,  which  had  been  re- 
vealed for  oiu-  special  consolation,  was  not  for  that  end  given, 
nor  for  that  end  to  be  retained  ;  and  therefore  I  resolved,  at 
every  risk,  to  open  to  all  the  fathers  and  mothers  of  the 
Christian  Church  the  thoughts  which  had  ministered  to  us  so 
much  consolation. 

"  I  desire  most  gratefully  to  acknowledge  my  obHgations  to 
the  fathers  of  the  Scottish  Church,  whose  Confession  of  Faith 
concerning  the  Sacraments,  and  especially  the  sentence 
which  I  have  placed  as  the  motto  *  of  this  book,  were,  under 


•  The  motto  of  the  book  is  as  follows  : — "  We  utterly  condemn 
the  vanity  of  those  who  afiirm  sacraments  to  be  nothing  but  naked 
and  bare  signs." — Confession  of  Scotch  Reformers. 


SEED-TIME.  417 

God,  made  instrumental  in  opening  to  me  the  whole  truth  of 
Holy  Scripture  concerning-  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper ; 
of  which  having  been  convinced,  by  God's  blessing  upon 
these  words  of  my  fathers  in  the  Church,  upon  consulting  the 
venerable  companion  of  my  early  studies,  Eichard  Hooker,  I 
found  such  a  masterly  treatise  upon  the  whole  subject  of  the 
Sacraments,  that  I  scrupled  not  to  rank  as  one  of  his  disciples, 
and  to  prefer  his  exposition  infinitely  to  my  own :  yet  to  both 
to  prefer  that  sentence  of  our  own  Confession  which  I  have 
placed  as  the  motto  of  my  book.  For  this  reason  it  is  that  I 
have  reprinted  those  parts  of  Hooker's  treatise  which  concern 
the  doctrine  of  the  Sacraments. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  wife,  as  we  have  been  sorely  tried  of 
the  Lord,  by  the  removal  of  two  such  sweet  children,  let  us 
be  full  of  prayers  and  fellow-feeling  for  those  who  are  in  like 
manner  tried  ;  and,  above  all,  be  diligent  in  waiting  upon  those 
children  of  Christian  Baptism,  whom  Christ  hath  committed 
to  my  charge  as  a  bishop  and  shepherd  of  His  flock ;  unto 
all  whom,  even  as  many  as  by  my  hands  have  been  admitted 
into  His  Church,  I  do  now  bestow  my  fatherly  benediction  in 
the  Lord.  May  the  Lord  make  you  the  mother  of  many 
children  to  glorify  His  name  for  ever  and  ever  !  This  is  the 
prayer  of  your  loving  hiLsbacd, 

"  Edward  Irving." 

The  volumes  thus  inscribed  were  not  published  till 
1828 ;  but  they  belong  to  this  period  of  much  quiet, 
but  many  emotions,  which  lay  between  the  death  of  his 
two  children.  He  laboured  much,  and  pondered  more, 
during  these  two  years.  They  were  the  seed-time  of  a 
great  and  melancholy  harvest ;  and,  containing,  as  they 
did,  the  first  germs  of  those  convictions  which  he  after- 
wards carried  so  far,  and  the  adjuncts  of  which  carried 
him  stiU  farther,  they  are  fiiU  of  interest  in  the  history 
of  his  hfe.  The  Albury  coViference,  which  drew  him 
into  the  close  and  exciting  intercourse  of  a  brotherhood 
engrossed  with  hopes  and  expectations  unshared  by  the 

VOL.  I.  E  E 


418  OKDIXATIOX    CHARGE. 

common  world,  and  the  opening  of  liis  church,  wliich 
brouirlit  liim  suddenly  out  of  the  brilliant,  indefniite 
world  of  possibility  into  a  certtiin  position,  restricted  by 
visible  limits  of  the  real,  were,  perhaps,  equally  ope- 
rative hi  preparing  his  mind  for  all  that  dawned  upon 
it.  ^Miat  that  was,  and  how  it  l)egan  to  develop,  may 
be  better  treated  m  another  cha[)ter. 

One  of  the  most  noble  pieces  of  oratory  wliich 
Ir\ing  ever  produced, — the  Ordination  Charge^  which 
reads  like  an  ode  of  the  most  thrilhng  and  splendid 
music, — was  delivered  m  this  spring  at  the  ordination 
of  the  Eev.  Hugh  Maclean  to  the  charge  of  the  Scots 
church,  Loudon  Wall.  It  is  a  kind  of  satisfaction  to 
know  that  the  man  so  magnificently  addressed — in  a 
strain  to  which  perhaps  no  Scotch  minister,  and  few 
priests  of  any  description,  have  ever  been  called  to 
listen  —  had  soul  enough  to  follow  the  leader,  who 
charged  him  to  his  duty  as  one  hero  might  another,  out 
into  the  conflicts  and  troubles  of  his  after-hfe.  Such 
an  appeal  must  have  thrilled  to  the  heart  of  any  man 
capable  of  being  moved  to  high  emotions.  I  am  not 
aware  that  any  similar  ode  has  ever  embellished  the 
ordination  service  of  any  other  chmrch  than  that  which 
Irving  here  describes  as  "  the  most  severe  and  uncom- 
promising "  of  aU  Christian  churches.  It  is  an  imrivaUed 
outburst,  full  of  aU  the  lyric  varieties  and  harmonies  of 
a  great  poem,  and  must  have  fallen  with  starthng  effect 
upon  the  commonplace  ears  of  a  quiet  company  of 
ministers,  no  man  among  whom,  except  the  speaker, 
had  ever  distinguished  himself,  or  had  a  chance  of  dis- 
tinguishing himself.  Such  an  addi'ess  might  have  given 
a  chmax  to  the  vocation  of  a  heaven-born  preacher ; 


VAUGHA^"   OF   LEICESTEK.  419 

but  it  is  only  the  genius  capable  of  being  roused  to  the 
utmost  by  such  an  appeal  that  is  ever  able  to  offer  it ; 
and  the  heroic  strain  called  forth  no  answering  wonder. 
But  the  young  preacher  to  whom  it  was  addressed 
threw  his  humble  fortunes,  in  after  days,  into  the  same 
lot  as  that  of  his  instructor  in  the  office  of  the  ministry ; 
and  one  feels  a  certain  comfort  in  knowing  that  the  dis- 
ciple was  faithful  to  the  master  who  had  connected  his 
unknown  name  with  an  address  wliich  inferred  such 
noble  quahties  in  him  who  could  receive  it. 

Later  in  the  year,  Irving  made  a  short  visit  to  Leices- 
ter, to  see  his  hiend  Mr.  Vaughan,  with  whom,  and 
with  "  some  other  ministers  of  the  Church  of  England 
there,"  we  hear  that  "  he  had  some  dehghtful  inter- 
course." "  He  was  expressing  to  me  yesterday,"  writes 
William  Hamilton,  "  how  much  he  had  been  gratified 
by  the  harmony  which  prevailed,  and  the  exact  coin- 
cidence of  their  views  on  almost  all  the  important 
pomts  which  they  discussed."  The  same  ^vritergoes  on 
to  tell  how  Lrvino;:  had  visited  with  him  the  families 
under  his  own  charge  as  an  elder,  and  of  "  the  cordial 
reception  they  everywhere  met  with."  "  IMr.  Irving  is 
very  happy  and  successfid  on  these  occasions,"  writes 
his  admiring  friend,  "  and  it  is  very  dehghtful  to  see 
such  harmony  and  good  feehng  amongst  the  members." 
Thus,  undeterred  by  the  many  absorbing  subjects  of 
thought  which  were  rising  to  his  mind  —  by  the  en- 
grossing prophetical  studies  which  Dr.  Chalmers  feared 
would  "  imship  him  altogether  " — or  even  by  the  impa- 
tience and  almost  disgust  which  often  assailed  his  own 
spirit  in  sight  of  the  indifferent  and  unimpressible  world, 
he  pursued  all  the   varieties  of  his   immediate   duty, 


y3/ 

420   "THE    LIGHT   THAT   NEVER   WAS   ON    SEA   OR   SHORE." 

canying  throiiirli  it  all  a  certain  elevation  and  lofty- 
tone  which  never  interlvi'ed  with  the  lunnan  lovinir- 
kindness  in  wliich  all  his  brethren  had  a  share.  Not- 
\vithstan(hng  his  unsparing  condemnation  of  evil  and 
worldliness,  Ii'ving  had  so  much  of  the  "  celestial  light " 
in  his  eyes,  that  he  unconsciously  assigned  to  everybody 
he  addressed  a  standing-ground  in  some  degree  equal 
to  his  own.  The  "  vision  splendid  "  attended  him  not 
(^nly  through  his  morning  course,  but  throughout  all 
liis  career.  The  hght  around  him  never  faded  into  the 
light  of  common  day.  Unawares  he  addressed  the 
ordinary  individuals  about  him  as  if  they,  too,  were 
heroes  and  princes  ; — charged  the  astounded  yet  loyal- 
hearted  preacher,  wdio  could  but  [)reaeh,  and  visit,  and 
d(j  the  other  quiet  duties  of  an  ordinary  minister,  to  be 
at  once  an  apostle,  a  gentleman,  and  a  scholar  ; — made 
]:)oor,  astonished  women,  in  tiny  London  apartments,  feel 
themselves  ladies  in  the  hght  of  his  courtesy ; — and  un- 
consciously elevated  every  man  he  talked  with  into  the 
ideal  man  he  ought  to  have  been.  This  glmnour  in  his 
eyes  had  other  effects,  melancholy  enough  to  contem- 
])late;  but  even  though  it  procured  him  trouble  and 
suffering,  I  cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  grudge  Irving 
a  gift  so  noble.  The  harm  that  comes  by  such  means 
is  neutrahsed  hy  a  power  of  conferring  dignity  and 
happiness,  possessed  by  very  few  in  the  common  world. 


END    OF   THE    FIRST   VOLUME. 


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