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Memoir ofmrs. Stewart 
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A TEAB before Mrs. Stewart Sandeman's death, she was 
looking through a periodical and reading aloud from it 
to her daughter. She came to the notice of a friend 
lately deceased, remarking that it was very well done. 
Her daughter asked, '' If any one wrote a page there 
about you, I wonder what they would call it?" Instantly 
she replied, "The child that was prayed for; nothing 
else." The author intended to have compiled this as 
an autobiography, since her mother's journals could 
have furnished volumes. But others have decided that 
this might not have been so suitable for readers in 

Her letters are found to be too hurried and personal 
to admit of publication. From her earliest years she . 
seemed impelled to record her deeper feelings in verse, 
when another would have taken refuge in correspond- 
ence. It has therefore been felt desirable to include 
certain verses which tend to throw light on different 
periods of her life. These, rapidly composed, and 




never but in three instances revised, it would not have 
been fair to her to include in this volume, biit for the 
absence of letters. 

In writing this book we have tried to carry out the 
idea she herself unconsciously supplied. 

Mabgabet F. Barbour. 

BoNSKsn), November, 1883. 




■ ! ■ 






y. MARRIAGE, 84 


VII. B0N8KEID, 107 




XL ALONE, . .189 

Xn. LAST WORK, 231 











rOK defence in the old days of Highland feuds, 
raids, and cattle-reiving, the baronial mansion- 
houses of Bonskeid and Fincastle stood high up 
on the hill, a mile apart, on the west side of the ridge 
between Blair -Athole and Strath - Tummel. Their 
small chambers and narrow windows lessened the 
severity of the blast In summer the occupants lived 
much in the open air ; for the winter they migrated to 

In the '45, Henry Stewart of Fincastle, then eighteen, 
rode over with his men to Blair to join the rising force, 
to the strains of his piper, who also sang a mournful 
lament about his never returning. The boy from Bon- 
skeid, in his sixteenth year, also went Some of the 
older tenants, however, were beforehand with him, 
waiting at the ford on Garryside, and by counsel and 




crown pieces prevailed on him to turn his horse's head 
the other way. Henry Stewart came safely home again 
in spite of the piper's foreboding song. Nor did he 
forfeit his estate, from his being under age. 

Years passed, and in 1752 Henry Stewart gave his 
sister in marriage to John Stewart of Bonskeid, who 
conducted her along the avenue of old sycamores to 
her new home. Miss Stewart of Bonskeid became the 
wife of their cousin, Stewart of Shierglass, on Garry- 
side. In 1753 a son, Alexander, father of the subject 
of our memoir, and in 1756 a daughter, Isobel, were 
bom at Bonskeid The little boy was not old enough to 
go with his father when they carried the wife and mother, 
too early taken, by avenue, road, and boatway, across 
to their vault in Old Blair. The tapestry they had 
seen her make for a square seat, still in use as a piano- 
stool, they reverently preserved. The young people 
diligently helped their grandmother at Fincastle in her 
garden work, while she and her daughters faithfully 
watched over the motherless brother and sister. She 
kept a house register, found long afterwards with its 
tbm and yellow leaves, telling when in each year 
the first rose bloomed and the last sheaf was cut. 
The lady's own hand records how many stacks of peats 
were cut from the hill in the long, dry days of June, 
how many stacks of hay stood in the full farm-yard, 
when the bees hived and the virgin honey came to 
table. As often as they were taken down through the 
Coillebhrochan park to see the froth and foam at the 
Tummel Linn, they heard the story of the eating of 




porridge by the vaUant King Robert when he brought 
his soldiers there, after the battle of Methven (1306). 
Much they honoured their ancestor who made him 
welcome to the place, and received for reward these 
woods in which the broken army spread itself to rest 
The first take of salmon in the year was a great 

From photo, by WiUon, Aberdeen. 

event at Bonskeid and Fincastle. The right to the 
salmon basket at Linn of Tummel was shared by them 
— Bonskeid had four days and Fincastle two. Salmon 
was plentiful in the river. After all within reach were 
supplied, the Pitlochry cart went down the lowland 
road with its fresh, cheap freights of fish. The little 




Isobel soon tried her mother's spinniiig-wheel, and 
she learned short words from her brother out of the 
Proverbs, the only spelling-book of those days. Never, 
they said, would they go far from these hills, dearer and 
dearer each joyous day. 

But the quiet life they had led was suddenly 
broken into. The whole family were one day absent 
at church in Blair, and the door locked. From. the 
Reformation the Stewarts of Bonskeid had been Presby- 
terian, while those of Fincastle at this date attended 
the Episcopal service at Kilmaveonaig ; but they often 
crossed and re-crossed the Garry together. On this 
disastrous day, when Bonskeid reached the top of the 
hill, he saw his house a burning pile. The version 
given by the dairy-maid to her daughter, who related it 
to us half-a-century ago, ran thus : — " I was in the 
dairy the last thing, and left my fifteen bonnie 
Jcehbucks (cheeses) ; when I came back in the after- 
noon, they were burnt to cinders in a heap as black as 
coaU' The ca»use of the fire was never known. The 
house was a ruin, and the estate was so heavily 
burdened that it could not be rebuilt. A farmhouse 
was hastily erected to receive the inmates, who now 
spent much of the year in Edinburgh. Old people 
still tell that none walked the pavements of that city 
with statelier gait than John Stewart — ^his children 
often by his side. When they passed along, windows 
would be sometimes thrown up, and heads bent forward 
looking after him. 

A darker day dawned for Bonskeid, though the 




morning looked like that of other market days. As his 
wont was, Bonskeid and his men took the road to 
Pitlochry, then consisting of but a few thatched and 
scattered houses, though the centre for bargain and 
business and the meeting-place. of fiiends. Supper 
cooled that night, while the children watched the 
down-hill path in vain for sign of his return. At last, 
in the fading light, was heard a tramp of feet in silence, 
and a burden was seen carried shoulder high. The 
children — ^now twice orphaned — saw no more. But 
soon they knew that they had lost their father, and 
Alexander was old enough this time to go as chief 
mourner to the old vault, with thronging hundreds 
from the Highlands round. 

He had fallen by the hands of his brother-in-law, 
Stewart of Shierglass. 

It was a superstition in the Highlands then that if 
the manslayer could see daylight under the corpse, his 
life would be safe. The stoiy was that Shierglass did 
hide among brushwood by the roadside till the bearers 
of the body passed on their five miles' march. His eye, 
strained for very life, caught the sunset. 

How the embroilment came about, remained a 
mystery to those of this generation, till the following 
letter was addressed to Bonskeid's great-grandson. 
Colonel F. Stewart Sandeman, dated 9th March, 
1879 :— 

** My grandfather, John Cameron, was almost a hundred years 
old when he died. When this tragic affair occurred, he was a 
drystone-dyker, and had a small croft at Auldchlune, between 




Blair and Pitlochry. The day after the market he Etood in want 
of broom for thatching, and went early to the copse for it. He 
there heard a voice cry, * John Cameron, come here.' To his sur- 
prise he beheld Stewart of Shierglass standing with his nether lip 
fearfully cut He told, with sincere honesty and grief, all that had 
taken place. Stewart of Shierglass, with his brother-in-law, Stewart 
of Bonskeid, and a few friends, had partaken of the flowing bowl at 
a house west of Pitlochry. Each house had then its illicit store. 
A i)etty quarrel arose among the company, during which Shier- 
glass had been using his knife for some purpose, and, in the act 
of placing it in his mouth to hold it, with the excitement made 
a severe gash in his lip. The company then turned the laugh 
against him. This so exasperated him that he drew his hand, 
into which, by this time, he had placed the knife, still open, and 
with a back-stroke struck Bonskeid, who was still laughing, fair 
in the breast The knife penetrated to the heart. When he saw 
what he had done he rose and went out All night he stayed in 
the copse. After his pitiful tale he said that previous to that day 
they had been fast friends, but that passion at being made a 
laughing-stock had overcome him. 

" My grandfather waded through the Garry, and carried over his 
lady on his back. She spent all that day in the copse. My grand- 
father kept watch for the pursuers, but happily they were left 
undisturbed. When darkness approached, my grandfather con- 
veyed back his charge, after their tearful parting, to her sorrowful 
home, in humble transit, the same as she came. Mr. Stewart 
fled the country for a lengthened period, but returned when the 
affair came to be regarded as an unfortunate accident I have 
often heard tliis story rehearsed by my mother, who died twenty- 
three years ago. (Signed) Peter Bareon.'' 

Mrs. Stewart, Shierglass, followed her husband to 
Holland, where several of her children were bom. 

" She was never observed to smile," her grandniece 
writes, "even after her return to Scotland, from the 
day her husband and she parted in the copsewood." 
" It was very trying," says the same aged informant, 




" for her or any of us to go to church after any death in 
our houses. Scarcely could I enter our pew the Sabbath 
after my sister's death, for my feet must touch the 
flags which had been lifted to bury her the week 

The little Isobel went to her aunt at Fincastle, 
cherished and beloved, nor was she ever very far from her 
side till she became her daughter-in-law. The eldest 
son of Fincastle married Louisa Graeme of Inchbrakie, 
and Captain James, the second son, married his cousin 
Isobel Stewart of Bonskeid. Alexander worked well 
at Perth Grammar School, and his name is found on 
the roll of Edinburgh University. He went with the 
Scotch Contingent as surgeon to Holland, making 
many friends, as his old letters show, returning, after 
some years, to give in his thesis, and take the degree 

The Duke of Athole, his friend, secured his settlement 
in Dunkeld. He lived near the Cathedral where the 
remains of his lineal ancestor, the Wolf of Badenoch, 
lie covered by his eflSgy in stone. 

The old people took a pleasure in calling him " Baron 
of Badenoch." Like every well-known country doctor, 
he won the hearts of many on that country-side, and 
hoped to have remained there till he should rebuild 
the house which had been burned down. Seventeen 
miles on horseback took him to the old place. Three 
larches stand by the stream in the Glen of Fincastle. 
Alexander Stewart, the old tailor at the head of the 
Glen, tells how the Doctor, with his two eldest tenants, 




Stewaxt and Scott, planted them as a memorial, and 
that he was the boy who carried the young plants for 
them to the spot There had always been two rooms 
kept ready for Dr. Stewart at the farm-steading of 
Coillebhrochan during his boyhood and student days, 
part of the furniture' of which still remains. 

In 1790 Dr. Stewart married Jane, the only child of 
Mr. Thomas Bisset, commissary of Dunkeld. His pro- 
sperity was short-lived. Small-pox had become a 
scourge throughout the land; inoculation was intro- 
duced to arrest the pestilence. Ardent in his profes- 
sion, Dr. Stewart was the first to use it in Perthshire. 
Sixty-nine children around Dunkeld went through it 
safely under his hands ; the seventieth — John, his son 
and heir, died. To him his mother addressed lines, 
entitled " To the Memory of a Lovely Infant not Seven 
Months Old," and ending, " whatever is, is right." 

The little Jess, bom 1793, and Thomas, 1795, died 
also in infancy ; very soon their mother, too, slept with 
them — ^four journeys more for the bereaved man to 
that old vault at Blair. As soon as possible Dr. 
Stewart left Dunkeld and went to live at Perth, 
which henceforth became the centre of his practice, 
persuading his widowed mother-in-law to accompany 
him. He succeeded to Dr. Wood, and took his house in 
the Watergate, the town-house of the Duke of Athole in 
old times, when the Court was held at Perth. The 
original white marble mantlepiece of the ancient 
dining-haJl was recently found, when the Free West 
Church, Tay Street, was built on the site of part of Dr. 





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Stewart's house in the Watergate. In the stable 
there, a horse stood always saddled, ready to take the 
place of the exhausted one, when he dismounted and 
had to start at once to answer some fresh call. His 
practice covered a distance of thirty miles round Perth. 
And yet the rider never so swiftly passed but he 
gave a nod of recognition to the standers by the 
cottage door, who styled him " the man of iron." 


Among Dr. Stewart's first patients at Perth was 
Laurence Oliphant, the Laird of Gask. Seeds of ill- 
ness had been sown in his constitution during the time 
of his faithful following of Prince Charlie as aide-de- 
camp in fight and hiding-place. His four daughters 
now watched over him by turns like so many trained 
nurses. Not till they lost him, and the old escutcheon 
was hung out, would any of them listen to proposals of 
marriage. They watched him as he had watched his 

As the eldest of these sisters will take a prominent 
place in this volume, we must go one stage further 
back, and speak of her mother. There appears before 
us a youthful reader seated in her father's foreign home 
in the Versailles Garden. She is in her sixteenth year. 
Her beauty is already marked by French courtiers ; but 
she is going on the morrow to be the wife of her first 
cousin, Laurence Oliphant, younger of Gask ; and the 
letter in her hand, long and closely written, is from her 




father, Duncan Robertson of Strowan, the chief of his 
clan, who had spent the nine years that had elapsed 
since the '45, when his estates were forfeited, as an 
exile in France. She reads : — 

" Versailles, Afay, 1765. 

" My Deab Meogt, — As you are now past the age when 
children are treated with authority and constraint, though not of 
experience sufBicient to direct your conduct through the perplexi- 
ties of a turhulent and vicious world, allow me to give you some 
hints that may he of use to you in future. Most anxiously have 
I studied your happiness, though perhaps you have sometimes 
thought me too severe on your little faults. 

" What I aim at is to stir up your resolution to practise vigor- 
ously every duty you know, and your diligence in acquiring 
more knowledge in things necessary and useful You have often 
heard it said that religion is the only solid foundation for happi- 
ness in this world or the next ; and happiness, or a false shadow 
of happiness, is the spring of all human actions. But how few 
have a proper notion of religion ! The mistaken world points it 
out as a melancholy thing that deprives one of all the enjoyments 
of life, and ties it down to a life of austerity. Would you know 
how this false notion crept in ? Why, men of little penetration 
observing the conduct of some mistaken devotees, imagined that 
all religion consists in outward mortification and abstraction 
from the world. Others, misapplying the example of some 
ancient Christians who were obliged to retire from the society of 
their heathen friends, amongst whom they must have continued 
in idolatry, or been persecuted to death, looked upon religion as 
a bugbear to be confined to caves or deserts or monasteries ; and 
thus the world represents it to this day, ever glad of any pretence 
to scandalise religion, and brings it into bad repute, as it every- 
where condemns those sins, and that pride and vanity which they 
are resolved not to part with. But in reality religion, so far 
from having a tendency to damp the spirits or make life uncom- 
fortable, is the only foundation for solid joy, insomuch, that 
whoever is cheerful without it, may be compared to one in a 




burning fever, who raves with life and spirits, whilst life and 
spirits are about to take their departure. Such is the condition 
of every one, who, without piety, pretends to find happiness in 
this world. What is called pleasure, intoxicates those who 
pursue it, and a fit of sickness or reverse of fortune soon discovers 
the cheat ; nay, a lonely moment is often intolerable even in 
health and affluence. Hence the passion for shows and amuse- 
ment everywhere. I earnestly entreat you, my dear daughter, 
to have your Bible often in your hand, and let the dictates of it 
remain eternally engraved upon your heart This will give you 
double satisfaction in prosperity ; making adversity light, your 
amusements innocent, your mirth free from folly, and your con- 
versation inoffensive. You are desired in marriage by a gentle- 
man who knows that you have no fortune.* What can be his 
inducement ] Probably, indeed, he sees something agreeable in 
your person ; but that is not the main point ; it is this — he him- 
self has been brought up in the paths of honour and virtue, in 
which he resolves to persist. He has a favourable opinion of 
your temper and education, and expects to find in you an agree- 
able companion for life. I have not the least reason to think he 
will be disappointed ; you have a mother's example, and I thank 
God you have a moderate share of common sense ; and I may tell 
you for once that you advance in discretion as in years ; but, alas ! 
those years are so few, and your experience so little, that I give 
you another half-sheet of such directions as I think may be of 
use to you. 

"Ist. Labour with all your might to preserve your mind in a 
calm, cheerful, and benevolent disposition; this is the proper soil 
for all virtues, both social and divine ; whereas the mind that is 
soured, ruffled, or exasperated at every cross, accident, disappoint- 
ment or contradiction, is like the troubled sea that throws up 
dirt and mud, uneasy and unhappy in itself, vexing and trouble- 
some to every one about it ; in short, a temper abhorred by God 
and man. 1 acknowledge that it is not easy always to preserve 
this meek and peaceable temper amidst the various rubs one 
meets with in a perverse world ; but you must consider, my dear 
Meggy, that we can acquire no virtue nor conquer any vice without 

* Their estate had been forfeited in 1746. 




a struggle. Ever since the fall of the first man, we are bom with 
.a propensity to evil and an aversion to good, and those our 
corruptions and weaknesses all our best endeavours will never 
overcome without the grace of God, which is only obtained by 
earnest prayer, and to that our best endeavours must be joined. 
Let me cite Mr. Young — 

" 'No man e'er found a happy life by chance, 
Or yawned it into being with a wish.' 

A single victory over an angry, peevish, or sullen fit, is a con- 
quest more valuable than a kingdom, and one victory makes way 
for a second, and so on. We cannot do the work all at once ; we 
often faQ ; but we must inmiediately recover ourselves, combat our 
vices and weaknesses one after another, nor suffer one of them to 
govern us. They are tyrants that would enslave here, in order to 
make us for ever miserable hereafter. 

" 2nd, In all your conversation with your husband, let your 
countenance and tone of voice, as well as your words, express your 
affection and regard ; and if you happen at anytime to differ from 
Ids opinion in small matters, propose your sentiments mildly by 
way of getting information, and not by downright contradiction ; 
and in general, avoid disputes with any one. 

" 3rd!. Let your husband be your principal confidant. If any- 
thing vexes or perplexes you for which you think there is a remedy, 
communicate it to him ; let him never learn it at second-hand ; 
and if any one would tell you a secret, with a caution not to 
communicate it to him, answer with a smile that you can keep 
nothing from your husband, and thus you will be free from many 
impertinent tattles with which you would otherwise be pestered, 
if you should converse much with the world ; though you may 
doubtless hear many things not worth repeating to him, or to any- 
one else. On the other hand, if your husband entrusts you with 
a secret, let neither father or mother, brother nor sister, ever hear 
of it. In short, as man and wife are said in Scripture to be one, 
have no separate views or interests, in prosperity or adversity, in 
sickness or in health. 

" 4tK You know I always condemned gaudy and expensive orna- 
ment in dress and furniture, but I seriously recommend to you 




cleanliness and neatness in your person, and eveiything about 
you. This caution may seem the less necessary, as I think you 
have a natural turn for keeping the few things you have in the 
best order you can ; but I should wish you to consider that this 
love of neatness and order is not to be laid aside when yon are 
married ; on the contrary, you must double it. A slovenly out- 
side is the sign of a sluggish and lazy disposition ; and I assure 
you that the observation holds in general. It is not so much 
taken notice of in our sex, but is never pardoned in yours, and 
the husband is always the person most offended. 

"5^/^. Let a grave and serious countenance be confined to your 
closet and retirement ; in company, take notice of your friends 
with a cheerful complaisance, 'tis a tribute you owe them. Cheer- 
fulness is absolutely necessary in youth, engaging in advanced 
years, and charming in old age ; and in all stages of life it is a 
mark of inward peace. To be cheerful, it is not necessary to be 
always talking ; but never be what we call * absent ' when in 
company ; give attention to what is said and done, and lend in 
your word when you think fit. Mirth is the highest degree of 
cheerfulness, and may and ought to be frequently indulged in by 
the young as a proper recreation both for body and mind ; but 
the excess of mirth is folly — every virtue stands between two 
extremes, and it will be a good amusement for you in your leisure 
hours to consider the virtues and their extremes. 

" What I have written I beg you will read over and over again. 

" My daughter, as the wife of Mr. Oliphant, claims a double 
regard. I pray God that you may be a comfort to him, and the 
instrument of happiness to his family.** 

Laurence and Margaret were married at Versailles 
in May, 1755, in presence of many of the French 
noblesse and all their fellow-exiles. The most noted of 
these was their grandfather, Lord Naime, who so 
narrowly escaped the block, that there still exists a 
dying speech which he had prepared to deliver on the 
morning of 29th February, 1716, when a twenty-four 




hours* reprieve arrived to stay his execution. His son, 
Mr. Henry Naime, was there with Margaret's two 
brothers, Collyear and Alexander, and her sisters. 
Nearest the bride and bridegroom were their mothers. 
Lady Gask and Lady Strowan, as they were still called, 
in spite of attainder, in the exiled circle, both of them 
daughters of Lord Naime. Their husbands, Laurence 
Oliphant and Duncan Robertson of Strowan, had both 
for many years been pensioners of the French king, 
Louis XV, The bride could remember how at six years 
old she had been hidden mth her mother and little 
brothers in a hut in Athole, whence they were driven 
by the threat of military execution, and escaped to join 
the head of their house in France. It was a day when 
family traditions were recalled, and when the marriage 
of their ancestor. Sir Walter Oliphant, to the daughter 
of King Robert the Bruce, was not forgotten. 

The young couple had their home in Paris, keeping 
there the day of rest, and walking by the precepts of 
the Book which had been law in both families. In 
1756 a son was given to them. Her first-born was 
sometimes carried out by herself, as custom allowed. 
Many would stand waiting for a glimpse of the lovely 
pair when they passed firom the street or court up to 
the balcony, on which all the chambers opened. The 
beautiful apparition flitted only for one year from court 
to balcony. The mother of seventeen then appeared 
in mourning. The little son and heir-presumptive, no 
more rivalling his mother s loveliness, had died. They 
had to lay him to sleep in Pfere-la-Chaise, where others 




of his kindred lie. For six years they treasured his 
empty cot unfilled, and only in her dreams had the 
girl a babe upon her bosom. 

The estate of Gask had been bought back from the 
Government for £16,000 in 1763 by their friends, and 
the act of banishment was repealed. 

Happy years were spent at Gask among their six 
children, Marjory Ann Mary (Mrs. Stewart), bom 22nd 
October, 1762 ; Amelia Sophia (Mrs. Steuart, Dalguise), 
bom 1764 ; Carolina (Lady Naime), bom 16th August, 
1766 ; Laurence, bom June, 1768 ; Margaret Euphemia 
Janet Charlotte Alexandrina (Mrs. Keith), bora 1770 ; 
and Charles, born 1772. In the names of no fewer than 
three that of the Prince was remembered. Next to 
religion and loyalty, economy had the first place in 
their upbringing. The silver plate had been confis- 
cated, family jewels sold, and the table of their child- 
hood was laid with pewter only. 

In 1772 Mrs. Oliphant's health gave way, and she 
was sent to Spain, accompanied by her husband and her 
eldest child, little May, who went all the errands for her 
mother with her maid firom the hotels, and learned 
Spanish by the way ; while the invalid retired to her 
closet to write in verse the journal of their travels, and 
to lay hold, on her children's behalf, of those promises 
which she knew God would make good to them when 
they should be deprived of her care. For two years 
longer she was with them. 

Through the small old window of her bed-chamber 
at Gask the dim November light fell in while the spirit 




of the still beautiful but dying mother prepared to 
take flight from the dwelling which her presence still 
brightened. Outside all was cheerless ; the sun left no 
mark on the dial, the stones no shadow on the long 
grass of the churchyard In her room all was cheer- 
ful. Her children were sent for ; she took leave of each 
without emotion, making them feel as if she were only 
setting out on one of her journeys in search of health. 
As they were leaving the room she said, " See who will 
be the best bairn, and stay longest with papa." To him- 
self when they had gone, she added, " You see how 
easily I can part with the bairns, for I know they are 
in good hands," meaning their Maker's. 

For these details we are indebted to a narrative 
written in the third person by her husband, which 
goes on to say : " On this last afternoon she took a 
glass of TeTvb and water. He drank the remainder 
of the glass to their merry meeting again, and she 
thanked him. He desired of her, after death, to 
ask of her Creator to be allowed to come and be 
about him, to keep him from many faults he might 
fall into. She said she would, and that it might be 
that spirits would be allowed to be about their friends 

"Among the last distinct things, she said in the 
afternoon, betwixt five and six, to the clergyman, after 
a prayer, ' I have hardly breath, Mr. Erskine, to thank 
you for your coming.' 

" Died calmly between seven and eight at night, as 
the recommendatory prayer was saying. About an hour 




before, said, ' Is it not time now V She meant, for the 
recommendatory prayer. 

" Dr. Wood who attended her, but was not present at 
her death, wrote from Perth, ' I never saw young or 
old resign life in so dutiful and so becoming a manner.' 

" Some days before her death, Mrs. Oliphant asked 

to see some of the old Scots Magazinea, and at the 

year 1760, page 368, turned up the ' Dying Christian's 

Soliloquy,' which she was then able to read for herself, 

and had read several times afterwards by others — 

twice by her husband : 

" * The world recedes, it fliea from view ; 
Ye mortal scenes and friends, adieu !' " 

The widower and his mother. Lady Gask, lightened 
the burden of sorrow by watching over the six mother- 
less children. The following year, when Lady Gask 
died, he prevailed on his aunt, Lady Harriet Naime, to 
take her place. The children had a merry life under 
her control, and lived to return her kind solicitude for 
a long period, till she died, aged eighty-nine. Mrs. 
Cramond was their governess, and Neil Gow came 
periodically with his fiddle. They were fearless riders, 
and enjoyed their beautiful home to the full Caroline 
carried that home into the imaginations of thousands : 
it still lives in the hearts of her countrywomen 
by her song, "The Auld House." They could not 
a£Ford a carriage ; Lady Harriet's mistake in ordering 
the largest chaise from Perth to take her to the death- 
bed of her sister at Lude, by writing "cheese" for 
"chaise," is mentioned in Rogers' "Life of Lady Naime." 




We can see the afflicted famUy at Gask, old and young, 
trying to comfort their grand-aunt as she sat in travel- 
ling dress, ready for the journey. The double little 
doors of the drawing-toom are thrown open ; two men 
enter, carrying an immense cheese, and the party are 
convulsed with laughter, and unable to explain them- 
selves to the astonished bearers. 

Lady Harriet loved tp speak to the girls about their 
great-grandmother, Lady Naime, her own beloved 
mother, who had put her trust in the God of Abraham 
for her children's children's children. She read to 
them from her copy of "Selections from Thomas k 
Kempis," the edition of 1699. It lies before us as these 
lines are written, one clasp entire, dim gilding still 
upon it, and four out of eight engraved metal comers 
on it still, though the hands of a long line of owners are 
lying in the dust. 

In the spring of 1786, six years before he was taken 
from them, Mr. Oliphant, like his father-in-law, wrote 
a letter to his four daughters : — 

" Gask, Spring, 1786. 

" My Four Dear Girls, — ^You have now got the substantial 
parts of education — the principles of religion and loyalty, read- 
ing, writing, sewing, dancing, a little of the harpsichord, and a 
little French. . . . While we live in this life of trial and passage 
to a better, you have the chance of marrying or of living single, and 
most for the last . . . My own hope and wish is that we may be 
all soon happy in heaven ; and this I am the more authorised in 
as it is what we daily petition for in the Lord's Prayer by * Thy 
Kingdom come,' as that implies not only the last day, but every 
one's particular departure into happiness by death. The general 
coming of the kingdom of our Saviour, though prayed for these 




seventeen hundred years, not having yet happened, and mayl)e not 
to happen in our time, therefore, though we pray for the general 
coming of Tighteousness and His kingdom, yet each of us also 
asks for their own particular happiness, that they may go to their 
Saviour, and be where He is. This is the Kingdom coming, 
and the height of happiness to every one ; and this hope and 
wish to be in Heaven should go along with us in all we do, and 
be the principal bent of all our thoughts and actions. But as we 
are only servants, and at our great Lord's disposal, we must wait 
His time, and fit ourselves for going or for staying ; yet in our 
prayers, with all due submission, we may be most importunate 
for going. 

"Your being useful through life, after daily asking God's 
direction, I would suppose best brought about by a sweet and 
gentle behaviour, and getting knowledge in, and acquaintance 
with, every part of household economy ; you may say your turn 
is not that way ; I answer it has pleased God so to form us that 
we are capable of attaining, in a moderate degree, every necessary 
thing we set ourselves about heartily. 

" It requires no proof that house-wifery was the occupation 
women were designed principally to be employed in, nor do the 
men-housewives that now and then appear, alter the order estab- 
lished by Providence for the women ; it only shows a whimsical 
turn, or their wife's incapacity. 

"The first thing, I take it, to make you successful in social 
duties is what you already pretty well observe: going to bed soon 
and rising, early ; in proportion to the steady observance of this 
will be your progress in every article, and the avoiding of that 
general hurry that you may observe among all ranks, which from 
morning to night prevents them doing any one thing sedately and 
properly, save trifling. The division of the day and keeping to 
method will prevent the constant and perpetual excuse for 
neglecting what is proper, *I have no time,' and * I want time' ; but 
do you take time by the forelock and never delay till after what 
you can do at present. 

** A second is arrangedness in all the things about you, begin- 
ning with your room, clothes, books, pen and ink, letters, papers, 
nothing left about and littering, a place contrived for every thing, 




and if much confined, in room be more ingenious and show what 
length that will go. From the bed-chamber or closet this extends 
to the public rooms, the pantry, kitchen, cellars, &a, according to 
the line and way you are in. 

"A third is keeping accounts, and in this you should be 
regular for the sake of practice, though you had but a shilling to 
account to yourself for ; you should make a little paper book and 
put down in the first part, stock, money received, or debit, which 
of the three words you choose ; and on the next leaf given out, 
debursed, or credit, as you please, always remembering to leave a 
column to the left hand for the date of the year and day of the 
month, and columns at the right hand for ;£ s. d. ; sum up the 
articles at the foot of the page and carry the sum to the next page. 

"With these three helps all will go on purely, provided 
humour be kept off ; humour is found more among the fair sex 
than the men, and is a mixture of self-conceit, whim, and cross- 
ness ; too wise to learn, they will not listen to and follow what 
they see and know is right, but will satisfy their own inclination, 
cost what it will ; and it is this humour and want of steadiness 
that prevents woman in general from making as great a figure in 
public affairs as the men, though their parts and penetration are 
often quicker. There only remains to be constantly asking 
questions and making inquiries ; and informing yourself of the 
best methods : some of the old are best, some of the new : and 
practising them as opportunity offers, relating to brewing, baking, 
the kitchen, pantry, poultry, dairy, laundry, mantuamaker and 
millinery business ; garden, respecting salads, greens, keeping of 
fruits and roots ; flax or lint from the sowing to the weaving, 
wool in the same manner, from the time and best method of 
clipping or shearing to the weaving and dying. Farming too as 
far as necessary, sowing, shearing, &c. ; nor is it improper to 
know how many stuhes make a threve, what a firlet of proof in 
casting a stack gives of stock ; the meal in a boll good oats, or the 
loaves, farles, or bannocScs in a firlet meal ; what quantity good 
bear or barley gives of meal per boU, and what outcome malt there 
should be in a stipe. The doctor's art too, relating to ordinary 
diseases, bruises, and cuts, dressing sores, &c. ; in general making 
yourselves handy and useful, hints for which you will get almost 




from everybody, as the bees gather their honey from many plants 
and flowers, choosing always the best. Entertaining company 
too, and studying to say obliging things, but without flattery. 
Should a town life be your lot you will not find the knowledge of 
these things unnecessary or useless ; they will help to turn your 
thoughts and discourse off from the useless chat of the city. 

"But you are not to make yourselves uneasy though yon do 
not succeed entirely to your mind in these things : the hearty 
endeavour is all that is required ; that done, you need have no 
anxiety about an establishment through life; striving to live 
well you may depend on being comfortably provided for here, 
and made greatly happy hereafter ; which God, of His infinite 
goodness, grant to all my dear children. Lau. Oliphant.'' 

We extract two leaves ifrom Marjory Oliphant's 
journal in January and February, 1793 : — 

*' Edinburgh, January.-'Oame here to attend Charles in a 
rheumatic attack, for which he was severely bled. Many of our 
neighbours are in town. I have been taking lessons in burnished 
gilding for my picture frames. Also got recipes for curing beef 
and bacon. Went to Martin's regarding the picture begun 

"When I attempted to copy a face before him, he told me 
I had brought the lake too dark, so as not easily to be overcome in 
some places. He bid me paint boldly, not with the point of the 
pencil. . . . For a very fair complexion— Lady Mary Lindsay's, 
the shadows are usually bluish. In painting the dead colour of 
Louis M*Craby's face (he was servant to the last Duke of Perth 
and attended in his military excursions) there was a little yellow 
in the red and white. The eyes left for next sitting. Heard 
Stabilini play his last concerto. . . . 

" Mrs. Siddons quite recovered of her cold. Saw two gowns 
worked by Montgomery, South Bridge, for Queen Charlotte and 
the Duchess of York. That for the latter was of Shetland wool ; 
three spindles for the lb.*' 

" Febrtuxry, — ^We have lost our dear grandmother at PotterhiU 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 


(Perth), aged eighty-five. She was fifth daughter of William^ 
Loid Naime. She went off as if in a sleep in the easiest manner 
possible. I never can be grateful enough to my dear brother Lau- 
rence for the attention he has shown me on this occasion — preparing 
me for the worst — recommending me to the care of friends to be 
amused, and going next day to purchase busts for me to copy. When 
going away he said, ' Now, I will break them to pieces if you do 
not keep up your spirits.'' Uncle Collyear came to the funeral in 
great concern for his mother. It afforded me great pleasure the 
way in which he spoke of assistance from prayer ; his reverence 
for the Holy Scriptures ; of our dear friends being probably our 
guardian angels ; and of a speech he heard Mr. Burke deliver on 
the subject of the French Revolution and the atheists in the 
Convention. ' And shall,' said the orator ; ' shall he, in the face 
of the glorious sun, dare to avow his disbelief of the Being who 
made that sun to enlighten us.* ^.^.—100,000,000 of miles 
distant from the earth. 

^' I sent dear Laurence these lines on receiving a paint-box from 
him : — 

" Hail, little group of vivid colours gay. 
Source of delight in many a rainy day, 
Whose tints drawn forth shall with the rainbow vie, 
And charm, like it, my fascinated eye. 
Snows may overspread the ground, but in my room 
Roses shall blow and crimson blossoms bloom, 
* United light and shade,* gay green shall smile, 
And purple clusters fancy's eye beguile ; 
The yellow ear of plenty brave the storm. 
And heavenly blue no dusky shades deform. 
And let Lorenzo who the gift bestows 
From May accept the gratitude she owes ; 
To him may life its brightest colours wear, 
And shade, oh ! lightly shade with grief or care. 
Disease or pain, each swift revolving year." 

Marjory Ann Mary Oliphant married in 1799 Dr.« 
Stewart, and went from Gask to Perth. The access 




to the old-fashioned dwelling was from the Watergate. 
Down a narrow court you came into a wider one, and 
mounting steps, you saw a door painted dark green 
with a great black knocker. 

In the comer of the orchard-garden, sloping in front 
of the house to the Tay, grew the fox-glove, from which 
teacher and pupils distilled the digitalis for the labelled 
bottles on the shelf. Other medicinal herbs grew there. 
In those days the work of laboratory and clinique 
.were mainly learned apart from the university work. 
Beginners became apprentices to men in practice, had 
apartments in or nea^ the doctor's dwelling, and even 
dissected in secret under the very roof In the garden 
harbour lay a coble, its anchor hard by the steps which 
led down to the river. It was even murmured that 
students had found the landing-place convenient for a 
burden which each was bound to furnish during his 
occupancy. The great grand-aunt of one who now sits 
by the writer used to go out at midnight to make sure 
that the watchers of Kinfauns churchyard were awake. 
At one time she watched there for six weeks, and 
spoiled Drysdale, the resurrectionist, of one of the stolen 

In the narrow lobby of the Doctor's house, leading 
from the north rooms on the dark court to the bright 
drawing-room over the garden of fruit-trees and flower- 
beds by the Tay, there projected a section of building 
which left little room to pass under. This was the 
unsuspected dissecting-room used in emergencies, and 
entered by a spiral staircase from an attic laboratory. 




There the apprentices of Dr. Wood, and before him Dr. 
Elder, wrought ; and were now succeeded by Dr. 
Stewart's assistants. 

Mrs. Stewart threw herself into her new duties with 
all the zest of the past. The house was a centre for 
society, busy and gay. Her wit and repartee, her 
pleasant easy parties, her taste for painting, made her a 
great favourite with young girla She taught them 
how to be useful as well as intellectual in their tastes, 
how to gild their picture frames after the turning- 
lathe had made them. Her own sketches in oil of 
the garden - weeder at Oask, the farmer's, wife, 
who nursed her baby brother, &c., still hang on the 

For four years this went on till on a cold Sabbath 
morning in February it came to a standstill, for a 
messenger was seen passing swiftly to Gask ; and 
through the city the news spread that a little girl had 
been bom in the Watergate. Caroline Oliphant (after- 
wards Lady Nairne), author of the ''Land o' the 
Leal," &c., came to watch over her sister and child, 
and her journals overflow with expressions of her 
interest in both. She left Perth to be with her 
sister Amelia, who had for some years been the 
wife of Mr. Steuart of Dalguise. From thence she 
writes: — 

^'Dalouise, I3th March. — On the 11th came here with Mr. 
Steuart, my sister Amelia, and the children, who had come in to 
Perth, Tuesday last, and stayed the christening of little Margaret 
of Bonskeid, which took place, as proposed, on Thursday, the 10th. 




All of US sadly disappointed that Mis. Oliphant could not yentuie 
to drive from Cask ; my brother with Dr. Robertson and my sister 
Margaret came that day, Margaret to remain some time. The 
company besides were Mr. Henry Naime, Captain and Mrs. 
Stewart, the doctor's sister and brother-in-law, and Dr. 
Farquharson who happened to arrive from Lude just in time. 
Colonel Butter, Faskally, who had volunteered his company, was 
prevented and sent an apology which pleased me in particular. 
Dr. Farquharson the life of the party, really pleasant man, extremely 
clever, and full of humorous stories, but says a great deal of his 
own which to me is far more interesting. Have often observed 
that a good teller of anecdotes, bon mots, &c., is apt to be satisfied 
with the little ^clat which they procure him, though nothing better 
than the daw in borrowed feathers. Even original turns of wit 
though very pleasing at the moment, being but a play of fancy, 
don't affect and attract me like effusions of mind and sensible 
reasonings. Well, as to the christening, Mr. Peebles read the 
service so audibly that May being in the room above joined, 
which, as she could not attend in person so soon, was lucky. 
Everybody praised the dear little stranger, who really is a fine 
baby. Felt myself quite interested in Mrs. Stewart, Dr. Stewart's 
sister, who married a brother of Major Stewart, Fincastle (a run- 
away marriage), and has six children, with only a farm and 
Captain Stewart's half-pay to support them. Four years having 
elapsed since the Doctor's marriage, and no appearance of a family, 
they had till now the prospect of the estate of Bonskeid ; yet she 
showed so much tmaffected goodness of heart and interest 
in May and the little baby, and was so pleased with her 
brother's happiness on the occasion, that I really loved her. 
Mr. Naime very much struck with both Captain Stewart 
and her being so disinterested, and said funnily, "Well, I 
thought none but the Gask family could have behaved in 
that way.*' 

" After dinner my brother and Drs. Robertson and Farquharson 
went out to Cask. Next morning, about eleven, we set out, leav- 
ing M. and her infant as well as possible, and feeling more thank- 
ful than can be expressed for her safety and happiness. Have 
learnt to trust my affairs now with more and more confidence to 




the disposal of Proyidence, feeling by a thousand proofi3 that wa 
are all under the immediate tuition of a very tender Parent, who,, 
though He permits much evil in the world, and lets those who 
disclaim all relation to him run on their blind course, and sooner, 
or later feel the effects of following their own devices, yet moat 
assuredly watches over those of His children who rely upon Him 
and endeavour to please Him. Very lucky that some of the 
wisest and brightest men have fully felt the force of this com- 
fortable doctrine.'* 

The wands woven into the wicker-work of little 
Margaret Stewart's cradle were cut from many woods. 
Like Hannah her mother could say, "For this child 
I prayed." The answer had come, and she was not 
going to draw back. A great new chamber was opened 
in her own heart in which to stow away the new-found 
treasure. According to the light she then possessed, this 
little life, entrusted to her, was going to be lent to Him 
who had given it. 

In this same year, 1803, was registered a lease 
dated two years earlier^ by which Sir James Pulteney, 
Bart., and failing him his wife, Laura Henrietta, 
Lady Bath, should have possession of Bonskeid and 
Coillebhrochan for twenty-five years, dating from their 
entry in 1796, with rights to make walks and 
plantations as they might please, cut peats and wood, 
fish in the "Tumble," and pledging themselves, ere 
it expired, to build a house. And how had this come 
about ? 

Into the thickest of the birch-wood, by the old 
Strath-Tummel road, there passed in 1796, not 
far from the Tummel .side, an English travelling- 
carriage, with two of the guests then visiting at Blair 




Castle. The occupants were Sir James Pulteney and 
his wife, in her own right, Lady Bath. Entranced by 
the prospect from a rising ground, from which the 
course of the Tummel is seen in its sweep, she ordered 
the coachman to draw up, saying, "This is the most 
beautiful spot I have ever yet seen: I shall build a 
house here." She was a great suflferer, and never to be 
contradicted. Sir James gently said, "We shall find 
out to whom it belongs." To Blair Castle they at 
once returned and asked. The Duke was not a little 
surprised, as Lady Bath was now only on her way 
to visit the Lodge she had just built at Dalnaspidal 
on his grounds for her husband's use. "It belongs," 
he replied,, "to my good friend Dr. Stewart, whose 
house was burned down when he was a boy, and he 
has never been rich enough to rebuild it." A mounted 
express was sent oflF to Perth, and from thence Dr. 
Stewart rode up by breakfast-time next morning. A 
carte-blanche was given to Lady Bath, who was a 
yearly tenant till 1801. Years passed, only planting 
being done. She spent the summer in tents in the park 
of Coillebhrochan, and directed the landscape gardener 
to choose the unrivalled path by which one still 
approaches to gaze on the larch- woods which she planted. 
To the topmost summit of the crag guns distributed 
the seed; while in the thick wood coach-houses, stables, 
and rooms for men-servants were being erected.- One 
autumn the party left for London, whence the news 
suddenly arrived that the lady was dead. Only one 
wall about six feet high, of great length and thickness. 




had been built for the castle she had projected. Sir 
James's orders came for its removal The stones of it 
appear in the fence or in the wall of the addition which 
he now made to the offices, thus converting them into a 
shooting lodge. The work was rapid and slight The 
public rooms were formed from what were originally the 
coach-houses; battlements surmounted the front to alter 
the effect. Before the next shooting season the frimiture 
had come down, much of it ordered by the lady herself; 
her supporters in brass are still seen on each of the 
black drawing-room chairs. As such it was sacred to 
her husband ; and he charged the housekeeper, on her 
leaving London with the servants, not even to unsew the 
matting on any of it, but to leave the furniture numbered 
for each room till he should follow. His last visit in 
London was to the gun-smith's, who handed him a 
new style of gun. They went out into the yard to try 
it. When the turn of Sir James came, it went off by 
accident, and he met his death. The heirs to the 
property sent word to arrest the progress of the carts 
which were conveying objects of art and vertu. They 
were intercepted passing through Stratheam. Accord- 
ing to the terms of the lease, eveiything found on 
Bonskeid at the death of the lessees, came into Dr. 
Stewart's hand free of charge. 

The following description of the path from the Falls 
of Tummel to Bonskeid, planned by Lady Bath, occurs 
in an old guide book, and was written by John Steuart 
of Dalguise in 1811 : — 

''The course of the river upwards to the house of Bonskeid 




presents a continaed succession, for nearly two miles, of river 
scenery of an nncommon character. The rocky and brawling bed 
of the Tommel, in itself beautiful throughout, here forms pictur- 
esque rapids, with bold and precipitous banks, rocks, and wood. The 
whole is enclosed within wild and romantic woods, with ancient 
trees often oyerhanging the water ; while some distant glimpse of 
the impending mountains, or the descent of their picturesque 
dedinties to the river's margin add to the general variety, so 
as to produce a succession of landscapes, of characters strongly 
marked, and not less strongly distinguished from each other. 
Where an occasional glimpse of that battlemented house is caught, 
its effect is extremely striking, and adds considerably to the interest 
of this wild scenery. Bonskeid has long belonged to the present 
family of Stewart Their ancestor, Alexander Stewart de Bonskeid, 
is designated 'frater germanus Nigelli Stewart de Fothergill et 
Garth, 1494,' in a charter, existing. Nigellus was descended of 
Alexander, Earl of Buchau, fourth son of King Robert II. The 
Earl is buried in the choir of the cathedral church of Dunkeld ; and 
over his tomb is a recumbent figure in armour, rudely cut in stone, 
and bearing the legend : 'ELic jacet Dominus Alex. Senescallus filius 
Roberti regis Scotorum et Elizabethse More : Gomes de Buchan et 
Dominus de Badenoch bonse memorise, qui ob. 24 die mensis Julii, 

lUe terrarum mihi prceter omnes angulus ridet. 

There is not in Albyn a sweeter retreat 
Than the Glen where the Garry and wild Tummel meet ; 
To the lone haunts of Nature their dark waters lead, 
And lovely she smiles on the braes of Bonskeid. 

On each side the grey crag crowns the heath-covered hill, 
Where the native birch weeps o'er the rock-leaping rill ; 
Wide wave the green woods o'er the Tummel's rude shore. 
And the songs of the grove join the cataract's roar. 

From the forest arises Ben-Vrackie's huge form, 
His bosom deep-fiirrowed by snow, flood, and btorm. 




And the eye at length rests where the first sunbeams phiy 
On the dark pines and meadows of fertile Strath-Tay 

Bat mark where yon arch o'er the Garry is thrown, 
Its deep channel scooped from the torrent-rent stone, 
Bocks rise all around like the walls of the sea — 
On those heights fell the gallant but cruel Dundee. 

Thongh drear is that Pass, 'twas the Pass of the brave, 
And that black pool divided to give them a grave ; 
E'en now the white foam on those dark waters spread 
Floats calm, as when sullen they closed o'er the dead. 

High towers, like the king of the deep glen below, 
The bare silvery top of the proud Ben-y-gloe ; 
And closes that vista of mountain and wood. 
Where the rocks seem to rest on the breast of the flood. 

Thus Nature's best charms o'er those regions prevail. 
She frowns on the mountain and smiles on the vale ; 
Boars in floods, sighs in forests, or decks the gay mead, 
And these charms are united at bonny Bonskeid. 

As Schiehallion protects from the storms of the west, 
From the storms of the world may Bonskeid be at rest, 
For there hospitality fixes her seat. 
In the Glen where the Garry and wild Tummel meet. . 

A Guest at Bonskeid, 1811. 





WHEN the conversation of any company is 
flagging, it can often be revived by asking 
each one present to recall the earliest 
memories of childhood A motley and amusing group 
of incidents of child-life comes up at once fresh from 
far-oflf fields. The most commonplace mind among the 
number may furnish the most interesting reminiscence. 
The furthest back thing remembered by Margaret 
was a journey taken" with her mother to the house of 
her aunt Amelia, Mrs. Steuart of Dalguise, in August, 
1806, when she was three and a half years old. " She 
•made me," her record begins, " tiny books of coloured 
paper sewed together, edged with orange, and varie- 
gated ; and gave me a basket made of pasteboard by 
herself, with this inscription in distinct black letters 
written on the inside, 

" My dear little Maggy, in case yon shonld ask it, 
I'U tell you what things must be kept in this basket : 
A pincushion, needlebook, scissors, and thimble, 
To employ little fingers so tiny and nimble." 

The brief record from which the above is taken was 





written by Mrs. Stewart Sandeman in her sixty-first 
year. The whole of it will appear in this volume under 
the proper dates. 

Two of Mrs. Stewart Sandeman's cousins-german still 
survive her, one at an age much beyond that to which she 
attained. Her faithful maid, Christie, afterwards Mrs. 
Harris, of whom we shall hear more, at eighty-Jhree is 
teaching to this day in her house in Perth, after being 
for forty years at the head of the Hospital Girls' School 
thera Nor have many years passed since the death of 
her first governess. Miss Clark. All these retained in 
the store-house of memory vivid recollections of the 
child they loved, and of the mother, calm, wise, and 
patient, who had endeared herself to each of them. 

The oldest of this circle, Mrs. Stewart, when seen lately, 
and asked her first recollections of Margarets child- 
hood, said, " Being eight years older, I sometimes got 
charge of her when quite a little child. I came fi-om 
Kinvaid to Mrs. Beveridge's boarding-school in the High 
Street, and spent my Saturdays with Mrs. Stewart. 
One day in the garden, my brother John, then Dr. 
Stewart's assistant, was plajdng with us. The new 
servant, Peggy, passed us on her way down the steps to 
the river with her water-cans. Her tucked-up petticoat 
showed her feet, and Dr. John remarked, ' See what big 
clumsy feet Peggy has got' 'Don't say that,* said 
Margaret in a moment ; ' do you not know that it was 
God who tied these legs on to Peggy V As we went in 
from the garden, we had to pass the door of one of the 




servants' rooms. It stood open^ and two of them were 
whispering within. Margaret peeped in and gravely 
said, 'Don't whisper, you know mamma doesn't like 

" Kitty, her nurse, took her for a walk every morning 
past the old Gowrie House, then si;ill standing, to the 
Park farm, which my uncle kept for garden and dairy 
produce. One Saturday, on her return, she came run- 
ning to her mamma, saying, * Do you know when I was 
going to the Park garden what I heard them saying ? 
One man said, " There goes Miss Stewart, Bonskeid," 
and another said, " There goes Miss Stewart, Coille- 
bhrochan." ' Her mother at once replied, ' Indeed I and 
did you hear no one say, " There goes Miss Stewart of 
the Watergate?" for that is all that you have to do 
with at present.' 

" Mrs. Stewart used to send us errands together. One 
day it was for patterns of chintz to hang on a little bed, 
and she bade me go to one or two places in search of 
them. After getting some at the first we went on to 
the second, and when I had chosen them, and the man 
was putting them in paper, little Margaret said before 
him, * Now, why did you come here ? I am sure those 
you got in the first shop were quite as pretty,' making 
me feel quite put out. 

"She was a most lovely child. Another girl who 
came in to tea said to her own mamma afterwards, 
' Don't send me to the Watergate again, I feel so awk- 
ward beside that fairy fljdng about.' 

^ Margaret came in to dessert and sat by her father. 





No one could look finer than he did in full dress. Peers 
looked poor beside him ! His blue eyes would sparkle, 
and he had the kindest thing to say to every one 
One evening the gentlemen were talking about having 
been weighed, with the results. Margaret put her hand 
aflfectionately on the shoulder of old Colonel OoUyear 
Robertson, her grand-uncle, who allowed her all liberty, 
saying, 'And what, I wonder, would this little 
meagre mannie weigh?'" 

It was no easy task for her mother to keep the little 
girl from being spoiled. The most indulgent of all her 
friends was Mrs. Bisset, the widowed and childless 
mother of Dr. Stewart's first wife. Most graphically in 
after life would Margaret reproduce to us these earliest 
friends of hers. Mrs. Bisset made her morning visits 
to the Watergate in the long, hooded cloak of black 
silk, lined with grey fur, then in fashion, and now for 
some years past in vogue again. She trysted the little 
maid to tea to her apartments in St. John Street, up 
one stair. Arrived there, the nurse was sent away for 
the afternoon. Two cups were on the tray, from a set of 
which each had a difierent hand-painted picture upon 
it. The "four hours" (now revived as ' four o'clock tea') 
included shortbread laden with comfits and orange-peel, 
thick cream in the even then old-fe^hioned little cream- 
jug, still preserved, and sugar-lumps to be lifted with the 
tiniest of tongs opening like scissors. The lady herself, 
with the tall widow's cap and gold spectacles, and the 
kindest of care-woru faces, might she not be allowed to 
enrich herself once more by doting on this child even 




to the spoiling ? Mrs. Stewart forgave herself for giving 
in to the mourner, when she saw her thus enabled 
, somewhat to forget the three grand-children who with 
their mother slept far away in the vault of the old 
church at Blair Athole. 

Another friend of her childhood Margaret was 
wont to describe most vividly, till we could almost 
see him stand with his black apron and his awl 
doing the finer parts of work in his front shop. Little 
scarlet slipper fronts are lying there in half-dozens. 
There the child had often sat on the low form to be 
fitted with boot and shoe.- Now she has come on quite 
another errand. Her mother had been long thinking 
over what must be done on account of her self-will and 
slow obedience. At length there was an outbreak. 
Imperious accents had been heard behind the nursery 
door; her maid had complained; and mamma had gravely 
whispered that there were means of correction more 
to be dreaded than her soft hand. So now she stands 
with her white beaver pressed to the counter and hears 
the order given for the tawae. Thereafter she went 
morning by morning with nurse Kitty to see if it 
was ready. Mr. Faimey could ill conceal his amuse- 
meAt at the inquiry made in silence by these arch black 
eyes peering up at him from below the counter. The 
little figure was enveloped in a scarlet coat trimmed 
with swansdown, made by her mother from the dress 
uniform her father had worn in Holland, which had 
long lain useless^ The tawse was placed in her 
hands, and carried home; but straightway it was 




deposited by her in the slop-pail, where it had to 
remain. For some time the admonitions which this 
called forth secured obedience; but at length her 
mother had to make one eflfort more to subdue her 
spirit A strait-jacket of striped tick was made, blue 
and white, and tied so as to render the little arms 
powerless. She had been decidedly naughty, and being 
made fast in the jacket, was left in the empty napery 
room, without carpet or furniture. The linen presses, 
which were said to contain a hundred table-cloths and a 
thousand towels, stood high up round the walls, and a 
well-filled ink-bottle, used for writing out the lists, 
stood, with a pen, on the ledge. The shutters were 
made fast, and the little prisoner paced up and down 
in the darkness, untameable. The light which the 
chinks admitted fell on the long curls, flushed fece, and 
struggling shoulders of the beautiful child At last she 
got a knot near enough to her mouth to loosen one end 
with her teeth. Little by little, she freed first one 
hand and then another; after which she climbed the 
window-sill and unhooked a shutter. Revenge lay 
with the ink-bottle. Down it was lifted, and once 
more she paced the floor, darting a penful of ink in 
every direction, till walls and floor bore the marks all 
over. It happened to be her father who released her ; 
and as his rule was not to punish, she went scot-firee. 
Between step-grandmother and indulgent father, what 
could a mother do ? But the child had no recollection 
of any further attempt at restraint being required. 
To her sister Amelia at Dalguise Mrs. Stewart had 




been accustomed to write every detail of her child's pro- 
gress^ even firom infancy, as her little nephew Charles 
was of the same age : — 

" Decembefy 1804.— At a year and ten montha my little prl 
has acquired some degree of pettedness and self-will, which, I 
think, could have been preyented by a more sensible keeper, and 
may still, I hope, be remedied without harsh means, if I can be 
more with her.' I have great hopes that seeing other children 
who are well managed may be of use to her also. She is 
extremely quick, and has an excellent memory, with a sweet, 
affectionate disposition ; not very merry, but disposed to talk and 
be amused, with a good deal of infant fan in her. She can pro- 
nounce all the letters except x and v." 

** Her second birthday, 1805.— The self-will rather increases, but 
she is merrier than before, loves to hear one talk, asks to have 
the same story repeated, — for instance, about Noah*s ark. Her 
understanding improves ; she goes to the garden for flowers ; 
now spring comes, I shall be more with her there. She is fond of 
hearing singing, and of bobbing up and down to any music of 
drums, bells, &c At present she hides nothing from me. She 
has been taught foolish little pieces of deceit by an old lady she 
visits, such as offering imaginary things when she has nothing 
in her hand, pretending to go to London, &c. I can do nothing 
at present to counteract this. I showed her Adam and Eve, and 
told her what fine flowers and fruit they had to take care of ; how 
all the birds and beasts came round them ; and that the angels, 
of whom she knew something from prints, came to visit them. 
But unluckily I said ' came flying ;* so next time we were on the 
subject she said, * Flying like a goose ? ' " 

^ June, 1805. — I was obliged to whip her thrice in one day for 
obstinately refusing to do what I bade her. She, however, tells 
me distinctly that I will never whip her when she is a good 
child. It is much better to amuse her into what is wanted of 
her, without seeming to mind her ways. Talking on almost any 
subject brings her round. The day after I whipped her, when 
she was playing by herself, I heard her say to one of her imagin- 
ary personages, ' What mamma bids must be done.' Yet it will 




require some time to get the better of her little gusts of passion. 
She observes and asks the meaning of anything that passes in 
company; not the smallest gesture^ word, object or noise, near 
or at a distance, escapes her ; she is thus open to any impression 
a good or bad companion would give. 

" 16t^ September, 1805. — She likes much better to be decidedly 
told what to do than to be allowed latitude. She gives freely of 
whatever good things she gets ; has in reality no deceit, yet betrays 
the natural propensity to disguise. Lately she wanted me not to 
look at her doing something I had forbidden her to do ; she came 
and bade me look to my own work or I shoidd prick my finger 
with the needle. I quite expected her to add, * That you may 
not see what I am doing.' This is the greatest instance of cun- 
ning in her I have observed." 

"2Qth June, 1807. — You will not complain of your pet's 
height, dear Amelia, after hearing that^of mine. If my yard (not 
an ell) is correct, she is three feet two-and-a-half inches, without 
shoes and stockings ; so she is just an eighth taller than her 
cousin James Oliphant, Gask. You wrote * long may they grow,* 
which is in one way a needless wish, except for our Magpie. As 
to most things you will find her like any other affectionate, playful 
child, who has been much indulged ; her whole character may be 
seen in one day. The simplicity of infancy is quite unimpaired 
as yet. She sometimes does appear sullen, but only before 
strangers. Instead of being like the man who, his wife com- 
plained, hung up the violin at the outside of the door when he 
came home, she takes it down there. Her memory is most 
retentive, and she has the mind of a poet in miniature. She is 
full of fun and humour, with, what I believe most children have, 
a great sense of fitness of means to ends, and exactness in com- 
paring things. She has great facility in getting poems by heart, 
and in imitating tones and gestures. While I write she is per- 
sonating Miss Hall, and teaching her school with no perceptible 
difference in the accent. To a gentleman, who teased her yester- 
day, she said gravely, * Kitty is away, and Miss N. is away, and I 
will Twt give you my cat.* Keep this sheet and compare her with 
it when we come. I fear she is a little spoiled ; of this you must 
be judge. It comes from old women applauding every word and 




action, and from maids not being clever enough for her. As to 
her getting whatever she likes from her papa at meals, perhaps it 
is of no consequence. He never praises or makes a fool of her, in 
spite of the bewitching little ways she has with him, but enjoys 
every little turn and word very much, when he can be with us, 
which is seldom. When she saw a flame from a letter I had 
thrown into the fire, she said, * Oh, mamma ! it was a pity to 
bum that letter, since it was from Aunt Caroline (Lady Naime)/ 
When she asks who made us and gives us everything, I tell her ; 
and she wanted to make a picture of Him to-day. I told her 
about not doing that, and then she asked if she might make a 
picture of King Qeorge. I said, ' Oh yes,' then she asked, ' Do 
yon like King George better than God Almighty V I am often 
sorry none of you are with me to enjoy her little prattle and 
ways, as if you had not three of your own !** 

Her aunt Caroline writes : — 

" I came to Perth with Mr. Naime ; found my little niece 
Margaret all that I expected ; never did see a finer looking child, 
— ^very pretty and very intelligent. What a precious gift to her 
mother !" 

Her aunt Margaret (Mrs. Keith) also describes the 
child in her journal at this time : — 

" Little Margaret Stewart, Bonskeid, is very pretty, and clever 
to an uncommon degree, which an only child is apt to appear, 
people say. I find her decidedly so." 

On the 9th April, 1808, Mrs. Steuart of Dalguise 
died at Dunkeld, whither she had taken her children 
for the winter to attend school The children took 
measles; she caught the infection, and when seeming 
to recover, sank from the after effects. Margaret went 
with her mother to the house of mourning, and in her 
record already quoted writes : — 

" When we went to visit her bereaved husband and 




children at Dunkeld, where she died, except the black 
frock, worn by Charles (my contemporary in age, and 
fevourite cousin) I can remember nothing sad. I saw 
the coffin ; but they covered it with green for me, and 
it did not look funereal." 

The event formed the crisis in the spiritual history of 
Mrs. Stewart of Bonskeid. Recent intercourse with her 
sister had been helpful to her ; but now she first came 
into the light, and reflected it all around her. It was 
for her child that the most tender proofe of this new love 
were ever kept. Very lovely were the summer days of 
1808, for the enjoyment of mother and child. " After 
a cold, late spring," writes Mrs. Stewart, " the summer 
was uncommonly fine, harvest very early, and mild 
weather till the middle of November. Strawberries 
and raspberries ripened of a second crop, many flowers 
bloomed afresh, and a second brood of birds in some 
places was hatched." 

From first to last transparency was Margaret's 
characteristic trait She never hid a secret from her 
mother, whose heart was all intent to answer each fresh 
demand for a new proof of love. Unsparing were 
her eflbrts to keep her one jewel bright, and the inter- 
change of confidence unbroken. Even at play there 
must be truth to the letter. " Once while my mother 
was playing with me," she wrote afterwards, "in the 
dusk by firelight, in hiding a cork from her I placed it 
where I thought it would lie concealed, but when she 
came near the place, I said, * Oh, it would not be there.' 
She did find it there, and from that time would not play 




that game with me. Another time as I lay fiat on a 
board at my lessons with a hazel-nut in my mouth, she 
said, ^Take that out of your mouth.' I removed it, 
saying, 'There's nothing in my mouth.' I don't know 
that I did mean more than play; but that nut was 
found by me lyiug in her desk, when at sixteen I opened 
it after her deat^L Only those two times in my life was 
there a semblance of hidiag anything from her. She 
inculcated the love of truth in a remarkable way. To 
one very open and generally inclined to tell her my 
every thought, there was perhaps little temptation to 
the reverse. But ' the heart is deceitful above all things 
and desperately wicked,' and she had at times to say, 'I 
think the glass is a little dim ; go away and get it made 
clear : ' she meant that she could see into my heart just 
as if there had been a window to look through. 

" On the other hand, it was hard for me to learn the 
reserve proper before strangers. One of my merriest 
days was made dark by this before night. Sir William 
and Lady Drummond were spending the summer with 
their sisters at Logiealmond, after a long absence in 
Italy where he was Minister at the Court of Naples. 
Miss Maria, v^ho was not on such intimate terms as her 
sisters with Lady Drummond, spent most of her time 
studying and painting in her own room. After I had 
passed the morning cutting out paper flowers and 
painting them as she bade me, she took me a long walk 
to look for wild-flowers for herself to paint. On the 
way home she took me to the Italian valet's cottage, 
to show me a pair of starlings. As we left. Miss Maria 




said in her firmest tones, 'Don't say we called here 
to any one/ I meant to obey this order of one of 
whom I stood in loving awe. But after dinner a bird 
chanced to make a sound, and I exclaimed, ' Oh I you 
cry like the starlings.' * What do you know of the 
starlings V cried Lady Drummond. Then the secret 
came out — ^there was silence. When we were alone 
Miss Maria said to me, 'Margaret, you will be the 
misery of thousands.' Sorrow was useless; in bed 
I cried for my mother ; but I had learned a lesson. 

" Another lesson I got in this way. Sometimes 
I thought my evening dress was rather too plain, being 
made only of white muslin, with tucks, while others 
wore embroidery. One of these embroidered dresses 
had been given me. My mother said such rich work 
on the skirt would only be suitable to wear when I was 
older. It had lain on the wardrobe shelf, as it seemed 
to me, for a very long time. I was going out to a 
children's party. My mother had not said what I should 
wear. They were busy in the laundry, where I some- 
times went to have a lesson; so I carried down my 
dress, laid it on the table without unfolding it, and took 
up the iron. Some one called me at the moment, and 
off I ran. When I came back the iron had burned its 
way through not one fold but eight, and my fine frock 
was gone." 

The old cook, Annie Gibb, who was long in their 
service, used to relate her first experience of the little 
girl, who showed her round the premises. " She tripped 
downstairs with the store-room key, and we went in to 




get the supply of cooking butter. I scooped it out of 
the large kit and heaped it on a plate. ' I think that 
is too much/ said the child. ' Nay/ said L * Then had 
not we better ask mamma, so as to know again ?' In 
a moment the plate was balanced on her head, and she 
walked with it slowly upstairs. I followed her and 
lifted a large piece off, which was not fair in me. When 
we got to her mamma she laid the plate down and put 
her question. Mra Stewart said, * Oh ! that is not even 
enough.' Disconcerted, the little housekeeper said, 
' Indeed, mamma, downstairs I thought it did look 
more.' " 

One of the playmates of her childhood was George 
Patton, afterwards Lord Justice-Clerk, Lord Glen- 
almond. From their birth they had been next door 
neighbours, and went to play in each other's gardens. 
Margaret and he were once seen coming up the ancient 
little flight of steps which led from the Tay to the 
Watergate garden, where the two set about build- 
ing an altar to Friendship, exchanging grave and 
earnest looks as it rose under their chubby hands. 
After George moved to Marshall Cottage across the 
Tay, they were often rowed to each other's gardens on 
either side the river. 

Everybody was reading Scott's " Lady of the Lake " 
when it came out in the summer of 1810, and she 
learned many lines by heart. She was staying at Kin- 
fauns with her mother, where it was being read aloud 
to a company, many of whom did not know the ddnoue- 
Toent, and was warned not even in a whisper to repeat 




the significant lines. At length she stealthily ap- 
proached one of the party, and slipped under her 
embroidery a folded piece of paper on which was 
printed in large characters (she could not write) — 

" And Snowdon's Knight is Scotland's king.'* 

During that visit Lady Gray taught her on the Sab- 
bath evenings to think of a Scripture character, to be 
found out by twelve questions : — first, Which book ? 
second, Man, woman, boy, or ^1 ? third. King, priest, 
prophet, or private man ? fourth. Good, bad, or indiffer- 
ent ? and eight other questions at discretion. To her 
last year Mrs. Stewart Sandeman played thLs game 
with children, but allowing more questions, and taking 
in all the company. A basket of apples was often 
brought out, to be eaten as we played, one being neatly 
pared by each till the long red and yellow paring hung 
down all in a piece, and was thrown into the fire. 
" Crambo " always came next. This consisted in 
repeating the verse of a hymn, and whoever was quick- 
est in beginning another verse with the last letter of 
the preceding verse vjent on with it. So many words 
end with the letter e, that in that case we had the 
option of the letter which preceded it 

Margaret accompanied her mother to the English 
chapel on Sabbath morning, and went in the afternoon 
with her father to the old church of St. John's, where 
Knox once preached. " One of my early recollections," 
she writes, " is that in the Prayer-book I still possess, 
given me by my mother as having belonged to her 




dear father, Mr. Oliphant, the names of the reigning 
family were C5arefully covered over by slips printed 
with the name of * Charles/ one of whose aides-de- 
camp Air. Oliphant of Gask had been. Why my 
earliest sympathies and my most ardent feelings were 
enlisted for George III., I know not. His sad illness 
and his well-known goodness, it may be, had their 
share ; but I was very ill employed in chapel in picking 
off the * Charles ' to restore the * George.' My strong 
and lifelong abiding predilection for Presbyterianism 
was also soon to be formed. When I was five years of 
age, Andrew Thomson was appointed to the East 
Church, and his brother to the Middle Church, — ^their 
father, then of Greyfriars', Edinburgh, conducting the 
induction services for both. In the afternoon I was 
always anxious to go with my father, and there, being 
lifted upon the seat, I enjoyed greatly the services of 
the pastor. I used to come home, and with a square 
black handkerchief tied round me for a gown, recited, 
in exact imitation of the fine, bold, musical voice of 
Andrew Thomson, 

" * Father of peace, and God of Love, 
We own Thy power to save ! ' 

and bits of his sermons. He left for St. George's, Edin- 
burgh, when I was seven years old ; and one book still 
bears the memorial of my sad loss in a square bit of 
paper, printed with the date 14th May, — ^the day, I 
think, he left us. I went to hear the farewell sermon, 
but did not lift my head all the time lest I should burst 
into tears." 




The impression made on her young mind is shown 
by lines written half-a-century after : — 

'*To Andrew Thomson, my First Minister. 

^ " His message —yet I feel its power, 

His deep-toned voice I hear ; 
And, Lord, I bless Thee for the hour 
It fell on childhood's ear. 

Five summers over me had smiled 

When here he came to dwell ; 
And my first sorrow as a child 

Was his last sad farewell. 

Yet, noble champion of the truth. 

By grace, 'twas ne'er forgot ; 
It led me on through early youth, 

And fixed my happy lot. 

Church in which that lot is cast, 

Had he been left thee now, 
How fair the wreath thy hand had placed 

Around his honoured brow ! 

Thomson ! how full fair Scotland's crown 

Of radiant gems like thee ! 
Then never for one hour laid down 

Their testimony be ! " 







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WHEN she was eight years old a schookoom was 
fitted up for her, not so much that her mind 
might be brought to love books, for that 
it did already, but rather that it might be disciplined. 
One instance of her early avidity for reading she herself 
records. "Before I was eight years old I had devoured 
the twelve volumes of Rollings History." More than 
one firiend was engaged in looking out for a companion 
governess for her. Lady Gray of Kinfauns, under whose 
roof she had often passed happy days, recommended a 
Miss Clark, a young lady then under training ; but she 
was not to be free till her pupil would be nearly nine 
years old. Till then her mother continued to do her 
best for her, and the journal of 1811 reveals much of 
that mother's character. Her sense of the value of 
redemption is thus expressed : — 

'^ Alas ! what would mj condition be were the tidings of salva- 
tion false. To Christ I cling for safety and for succour. He is 
mj hope in this Hfe ; I rely on Him for comfort in death and 
admission to never-ending felicity beyond the grave. Some there 
are who imagine that departed spirits shall not see their Redeemer 
for a season ; but my hope is that^ like the penitent thief, we shall 





immediately on our departure hence be with the Lord in Paradise. 
Such was the hope of my pious parents, who seemed while still 
on earth to have their souls in heaven. Let me die as they did, 

blessed God, full of joy and peace in believing." 

*^July 1, 1811. — This week my dear husband has been attend- 
ing families in the country, where a putrid fever prevails. 
Hitherto, he and his family have mercifully been preserved for a 
number of years past from being infected by his constant practice. 
Glory to Thee, God, for so great a mercy." 

" July 8. — I had a bunch of roses given to me as I was prepar- 
ing to go to church, and their charming appearance and fragrance 
raised my mind to .that paradise where we shall meet with roses 
that can never fade. I am ready to say, How can anything be 
sweeter or more engaging than this flower, till I recollect St. 
Paul's account of these things hereafter to be o£fered to the senses 
then fitted for the enjoyment of heaven, * which eye hath not 
seen, nor ear heard.' blessed Jesus ! enable me to be more 
zealous, and to serve Thee better, to do all I can to bring others 
to love and obey Thy mild commands, and to show by my cheer- 
ful alacrity in doing Thy will, that Thy yoke sits lightly upon 

" Sixth Sunday after Trinity, — Old age approaches ; the Autumn 
of my life has arrived. How can I ever praise God for all the 
mercies of nearly fifty years, in childhood and youth, and after 
youth was past; how few evils, and how many blessings have 
been my lot ! I cannot praise Him in any manner as I ought. 

1 feel quite unable, while a mortal, to express my thankfulness ; 
but I will praise Him through all eternity for the blessings I 
have enjoyed here, — yet, oh ! how much more for making that 
eternity mine by redemption ; though I cannot at present com- 
prehend how it will be possible to praise my God and my Saviour 
in a manner worthy of them. But as combustible substances 
appear black and dead till set on fire, so will this poor lifeless 
drowsy soul be lighted up and refined by the Holy Spirit, as soon 
as I am admitted to these pure regions of ine£fable brightness and 
glory. In my present probationary state, I ought to labourin 
the vineyard to do all I can to show my obedience and love. It 




is only while on earth we can be doing and working for our Qod 
and Savioar, and, as I have heard it well remarked, If the 
redeemed in heaven could grieve or have regret, it would be for 
having done so little work for their Master while they were on 

It was in August, 1811, that the newly-finished 
mansion-house of Bonskeid was taken possession of by 
Dr. and Mrs. Stewart Miss Margaret Oliphant had 
devoted herself for four years to the C5are of her mother- 
less niece and nephews of.Dalguise, but had now 
married Mr. Keith of Dunnottar. The married pair 
came to Perth on their way north. Mrs. Stewart writes 
under date 4th August : — 

** Mr. and Mrs. Keith in ChapeL There ia now a house ready 
for our reception, beautifully situated, and every way desirable, 
but for one objection, which will prevent my ever making a 
request of my husband to live there — it is the great distance from 
a place of public worship. Should we or our heirs ever at any 
future period reside there, I hope they will make a point of 
allotting part of the house for a chapel, or having one built so 
near that they and their neighbours could constantly attend it. 
This would be a public blessing. May He who has cast our lot 
in pleasant places, and afforded us the means of living comfort- 
ably, incline our hearts to glorify Him by living as in His sight, 
and endeavouring to promote holiness in ourselves and others. 

At that time the parish churches of Moulin and of 
Old Blair respectively were the nearest places of worship, 
and the roads to them were not so good as they are 
now. Her earnest wish for nearer places of worship has 
been granted. 

For the first time, little Margaret and her mother 
walked down together from the Bridge of Garry to the 




Falls of Tummel with the rest of the paxty. The new 
path by the river from the Falls to the house was not 
yet finished ; as their arrival was unexpected, the path 
had to be cleared before them. These circumstances, 
and the bewildering beauty of the scene so often 
imagined and now first beheld by mother and by child, 
made an indelible impression on the minds of both. 
The new furniture also, lying at yet unpacked in 
the newly finished rooms, and the appearance next 
morning of men with saws and hatchets to dear 
the birch thickets in firont of the drawing-room 
windows, which opened down to the floor, and at which 
the heather and ferns still looked in, made up tiie 
marvel As the saws rasped and the branches fell, the 
Tummel came in sight with all the varied beauty of the 
hitherto unsuspected surroundings. It will be remem- 
bered that the public rooms had been intended for 
coach-houses ; thus the only requisite for their site was 
that they should be hidden among the birches. Mrs. 
Naime came and painted a picture of the house in oil 
for her sister. 

Strangers, too, began to discover the beauty of the 
place. In November, 1813, Mrs. Brunton, the authoress, 
describes it thus to Miss Joanna Baillie, to whom she 
had dedicated her " Self-control " : — 

^'Coillebhrochan (Bonskeid) is the wildest of all hnman habita- 
tions. It stands npon the banks of the Tummel, about two miles 
(Highland miles perhaps) above the Pass of Killiecrankie. Did 
you ever see the Tummel ? It is the stream of my affection ! Of 
all rivers it is the most truly Highland : an impetuous, melancholy, 




romantic stream, foaming among the fragments that have fallen 
from mountains which seem to have been cleft for its couise. 
Coillebhrochan has no lawns nor gardens near it, no paltry work 
of man's device to fritter awaj the majesty of nature ! Fortun- 
ately there is no room for such disfigurements ; for the site of 
the house occupies the only level spot between a perpendicular 
mountain and the river. The walks. are cut in solid rock, and, 
sometimes approaching the brink of the precipice, show the 
Tummel foaming far below! Sometimes they descend to the 
very bed of the stream, and then wind up its perpendicular bank 
to show the noblest mountain view imaginable. But still all is 
deep solitude ; no trace appears of any living thing, except now 
and then a roe springing from a thicket, or an eagle sailing down 
the glen. 

" The place was advertised as shooting quarters, which brought 
some strangers where Lowland foot had seldom trod; but 
none inclined to take up their rest there. An Englishman who 
visited it the day before I was there, declared that he * would 
rather have a grave opened and jump into it alive, than be buried 
in such a frightful desert.' You cannot imagine with what con- 
tempt the servants related this specimen of Lowland taste. 
' I should lose at least one child a-day in those whirlpools,' said 
the Englishman. 'Your honour would need to bring a large 
family with you then for the sununer ! ' answered the forester." 

The Sabbath after leaving Bonskeid, Mrs. Stewart 
writes : — 

" Morning text, * So teach us to number our days.* Afternoon — 
have forgot the text. I fear my thoughts are too much engrossed 
by the new scenes I have been visiting. I have been thinking 
much about the necessity of erecting a chapel on the grounds at 
Bonskeid, and I am not without hopes it may some time or other 
be put in execution. 

"Besides her regular lessons, I have finished reading with 
Margaret, Lindley Murray's book for young persons, entitled, 
' The Power of Religion on the Mind in Retirement, Affliction, 
and at the Hour of Death, exemplified in the testimonies and 




experience of persons distinguished by their greatness, learning, 
and virtue, — 11th edition. The characters of Josias Hanway, 
Anthony Benezet, John Howard, and James Beattie I wish to 
read at length ; the others, many of them, occur in history. Rachel 
Oliphant writes that Chappones' Letters, which I sent her, have 
been very useful to her, especially the chapter on Temper. I hear 
from her boarding mistresses, Panon and Brodbelt, Queen's 
Square, Bloomsbury, that she gives them much pleasure.'* 

^^ October, 1811. — I have been with Margaret this week in a 
family where nothing was wanting but signs of religion. In some 
of the members I know it exists, but they do not choose to show 
that they differ from those members of it, who, I fear, have none. 
But while I blame them I do not vindicate myself ; on the contrary, 
I will^all my life regret the cowardice I showed in allowing my 
child, contrary to my own conviction and to general prohibition, 
to read one of the many volumes of novels that were in all 
comers. In this point I betrayed my trust as the guardian of 
her education. May I be enabled henceforth to be more steady, 
and may her taste be formed to what is excellent, not to what is 
vile and refuse, in her intellectual amusements, by a better 
Guardian than me. Alas ! what should I do if I did not think 
myself permitted on all occasions to apply for help and direction 
to my Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier ; though I cannot compre- 
hend how the Lord of lords and King of kings should vouchsafe 
to listen to the voice of so mean and unworthy a creature, who, 
though deeply convinced of that meanness and unworthiness, 
can yet feel proud and vain thoughts arise within me." 

*^ December 28. — ^Finished reading new edition of 'Fn^ments in 
Prose and Verse,' by Elizabeth Smyth, portions of Elopstock's 
Letters translated in it, a good book for Margaret by-and-bye. 
Also 'Friendly Instructor, or Familiar Conversations for Young 
People,' by P. Doddridge, a very good little book for children 
between eight or ten and fourteen. 

'^ Mr. Skeete preached from, ' For the eyes of the Lord are over 
the righteous.' When expatiating on the eyes of the Lord being in 
every place, preserving Daniel from the lions, Shadrach, Meshach, 
and Abednego in the fiery furnace, I could not forbear thinking of 




the many proyidentdal escapes I have myself experienced, and hov 
narrowly my child has several times escaped from danger ; more 
particularly on the 21st of Jane this year. Qlory to Thee, O 
Lord ! for all Thy mercies. As she was ronning across the room, 
through a conntiy-danoe, she tripped a peiaon's foot, who fell 
oyer her ; a glass tumbler she had in her hand was broken to 
pieces under her, yet she was not hurt or cut, nor any one 

'' January^ 1812. — Margaret wrote as follows, and showed it to 
me (I had been displeased with her to-day for a little) : * O Lord 
Almighty ! I thank Thee for all Thy mercies to me and all men. 
I confess to Thee that I am a sinner ; forgive me all my sins, 
especially disobedience to my parents' (I cannot accuse her of 
that) ; ' grant that I may never do so again. Bless my dear father 
and mother ; bless our gracious king ; and, if it be Thy will, 
alleviate his sufferings in this life, and grant he may go to 
heaven at last, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.' She has 
asked me to give her a plain dish for dinner on the general 
fast-day (for the king), and I shall be glad if she imposes little 
acts of self-denial on herself from time to time, in the way of 
eating as well as other things. Denying the appetite its cravings 
helps to subdue the wilL" 

Miss Clark had now entered on her duties with her 
pupiL Lists of books are preserved as having been 
selected for the schoolroom library for the child of nine 
years old, as well as for the studies of her governess. 
These studies were scarcely begun when Margaret had 
whooping-cough so severely as to be considered in 
danger. Her mother having left her on one occasion to 
go to chapel, writes : " Text — ' Train up a child,' &c. 
Though my child was absent, the sermon encouraged 
me throughout I have great reason to hope that the 
instructions I have endeavoured to give her, through the 
blessing of God, will not be like seed thrown upon stony 




places, but that they will spring up, and bear fruit 

The summer of 1812 was spent with the Keiths at 
Ravelston, where Margaret recovered. Till she went to 
school, her visits there were frequent, as well as to her 
uncles and cousins at Dalguise and Gask, Sir George and 
Lady Stewart at Murthly, Major and Mrs. Naime at 
Holyrood, and to the Misses Drummond at Logiealmond. 
The schoolroom work went on during all these visits. 

*^8ept&mher 2, 1812. — Staid in the vestry till the afternoon. 
Mrs. Buckle and her daughters, Jane and Frances, were with me, 
on their way to Murthly. Mrs. Buckle, whose opinion I rely on, 
approved of the way in which Margaret has hitherto been brought 
up, advised me to check skilfully any tendency to pertinacity, to 
which being allowed to join in conversation may lead ; admired 
Dr. Stewart's great attention to everything and every one ; hoped 
M. might yet be of use to bring about an interest in spiritual 
things. She thought me not cheerful and complacent enough, 
and dwelt on the duty of showing cheerfulness, inwardly realised, 
in the countenance at all times. Probably her husband Mr. 
Buckle's great usefulness, as in the case of my sister, is increased 
by this." 

A passage out of Lady Naime's life explains the 
allusion : — 

^ Some time before, Caroline was on a visit to the old castle of 
Murthly, where Mr. Buckle had also arrived. He was a winner 
of souls. At morning worship she was in her place with the 
household, and listened to what God's ambassador said on the 
promise, ' Him that cometh unto Me, I will in no wise cast out.' 
Faith grasped it. From that hour she never had one doubt of 
God's love to her in Christ. 

'< But that afternoon she was seen no more. Her fair face was 
spoiled with weeping when she again appeared. Her eye had 
caught the glory of the Son of God, and burned with love to Him 




of whom she henceforth could say, ' Whose I am, and whom I 
serve.' Her pen, her pencil, her harp, as afterwards her coronet, 
were laid at His feet, to be henceforth used, used up by and for the 

Immediately following the last entry are these lines 
from Mrs. Stewart's pen : — 

" My birth appointed was above. 
And still I prove my Maker's love, 
Year after year as on I move. 
O'er me are Spring and Summer gone. 
Life's Autumn now comes stealing on. 
In health and ease the years have fled 
Peaceful and silent o'er my head. 
Hope's purple pinions onward fly. 
And Faith, assuring bliss on high. 
Now holy Charity my heart enfold. 
Transform, subdue, and turn its lead to gold.'' 

Mrs. Stewart writes thus of a severe illness from 
January to June, 1813 : — 

" I thought I was going to leave this world for a better. How 
earnestly did I then lament having failed in duty, and having 
been gidlty of sin, and how firmly did I resolve, by Qod's gra- 
cious assistance, to be more circumspect for the future. It pleased 
TTim graciously to restore me the use of my limbs, and to raise 
me up again." 

Miss Clark, the governess, lived to a great age. In a 
last interview with her, she was asked if she could 
explain by anything in Margaret's youth, the venture- 
someness and confidence which characterised Mrs. 
Stewart Sandeman in speaking and writing regarding 
eternal things to people with whom she had scarcely — 
as others might think — a, right to make free. ** I came," 

♦ From "TheSoulgatherer." 




she replied, " a girl in my teens, chosen, I often felt, 
chiefly to make the old house merry for the little girl. 
I could not make out how, even after Mrs. Stewart's 
long illness the year after I came, her maid always 
knocked at twelve to wheel her from the drawiug-room 
to her cheerless room upon the courts Just as she lay 
by the open window, delighting in the sunshine, the 
apple-blossom, and the flowers in the garden sloping 
to the river, with Margaret reading to her, she would be 
wheeled away. No one must knock at her door till 
one o'clock came; whatever the rank of the visitors, 
only my pupil and I could receive them. At last I 
said to her, 'Do you mind my asking why you are 
taken away every day out of the sunshine into that 
dark room?' She answered so kindly, 'Shall I tell 
you ? All that hour I am asking one thing before all 
from my God — that He will make Margaret His own 
child. After that, I ask that, when she shall know 
Him, each descendant to the end of time may know 
Him too, and that every person to whose spiritual wel- 
fare she shall devote herself shall be blessed with the 
knowledge of Christ.' " Miss Clark and her pupil had 
been startled and impressed by an incident during that 
illness. Margaret had slipped into her room in the 
morning to ask how she did. Her touch awoke her 
mother, who opened her eyes, saying, before she well 
remembered to whom, "What a disappointment! I 
thought my Lord had come for me." She did indeed 
walk with God ; did not yet see the child's hand clasped 
in His ; knew she must leave her in the whirl of the 




world's throng; but, nothing daunted, shut herself in 
to prayer. She spent the summer at St. Andrews, 
Eonghom, and Bavelston, and returning to her home, 
where Margaret was with her father, wrote : — 

" September 2, 1813. — ^To my great joy I found my dear child 
much improved, attached to her governess, and her temper sweet 
and docile. Praised be Thy name, O Lord ! At St Andrews 
studied and extracted from Paley's sermons ; also those of Dr. 
Brown, Marischal College, Aberdeen ; and Scott's ' Bokeby.' 
Also ' Calvary,' by Cumberland, and admired some of it much ; 
also * Philemon,' a poem by Professor Brown, Aberdeen — most of 
it well worth reading. Glanced over Parson's ' Voyage Bound the 
World;* also Mrs. Graeme's 'Residence in India,' at Calcutta, 
Bombay, Madras, &c. I have been giving lessons to a little girl 
of nine, Helen Livingstone. Also studying BobVs ' Addresses 
to the Young,' and Mrs. Hamilton's exercises. Perceval's account 
of Ceylon is interesting." 

^July 17, 1813. —Bead Gisboume's 'Walks in a Forest,' 
Coutf s Sermons, Parson's * Travels in Asia and Africa ;* now 
we are reading Herxiot's account of part of America, with very 
pretty engravings." 

On the steps before the rails of the Communion table, 
answering in turn with Margaret the questions of the 
Catechism, stood another girl of the same age : it was 
Margaret Sandeman from Springland. The family were 
patients of her father, and well acquainted with her 
mother, but the girls first met on the chapel steps. 
Mrs. Stewart chose her as her child's chief companion, 
and from that time her Saturdays were oftenest spent 
at Springland. 

''It was during my recovery from scarlatina," 
Margaret wrote, "and while still confined to bed, for 
I had it severely, that my mother first read to me 




Milton's 'Paradise Lost/ from the edition of 1782, 
which bore the inscription, * From Lady Harriet Naime 
to Marjory Oliphant, 1784.' It was one of her feiyouiite 
books, and she gave me that copy* I heard it with the 
relish of an imaginative mind" 

Before that the Iliad had been read in translation 
till much of it was got by heart, and Eollin's Ancient 
History was gone over several times. 

During the war with France, Perth was one of the 
principal stations for the French prisoners, who, landing 
at Dundee, were marched up to the dep6t at the top of 
the South Inch, afterwards enlarged into the great 
General Prison for Scotland. Once a week the prisoners 
were allowed to appear at their gratings to sell the neat 
workmanship of their leisure hours. Margaret never 
missed an opportunity of going with her governess to 
this weekly sale ; the fauces of these brave men, their 
politeness, and their gratitude for the purchases made, 
were remembered by her, long after the fragile workman- 
ship, dexterously and curiously displayed on boxes, 
needle-books, yard-measures, silk-winders, made of 
straw, painted, split, and diced, had disappeared from her 
treasures. For this her sixpences were hoarded. 
Gentlemen and ladies came for the costly articles, such 
as models of a man-of-war in wood and ivory. 

Interruption came to all the work of Perth, whether 
to old or young, by the snow-storm which ushered in 
the year 1814 — ^the last year of the French sojourn in 
British prisons. Mrs. Stewart's journal records its 
length and devastation. After copying into her book 




Southey's " New Year's Ode," she writes the following, 
including extracts from the newspaper :— 

''The year began with £rost, which increased in Beverity for 
three weeks. Thaw commenced January 25tlL The snow-storm 
was so severe in England that four London mails were due that 
day. The river Tay was frozen as feu: down as Newburgh, the 
first time since 1740. People walked over the strange white 
pavement to and from market, and Margaret could slide and 
run from her garden door on the frozen river to her friend at 
Springland. The 12th February was the most memorable 
day, and one of general peril and alarm. The ice of the river 
Almond had 3delded to the rise of the waters and appeared in 
the Tay. The broken ice from the upper rivers arrived soon 
after. Guns stood ready to be used in breaking up the ice to save 
the bridge. About three o'clock the ice above the bridge began 
to move, and, breaking against the piers, was carried down 
through the arches. The force of the water, however, was not 
sufficient to burst asunder the massy sheet, which extended from 
the Barrack-ground to the opposite shore, until six o'clock, when 
it rose, and began its motion with slow and quiet majesty. Those 
who stood on the banks around gazed on this magnificent launch 
of Nature's hand. But the sublimity of the spectacle soon 
acquired much of the terrific. The ice farther down did not give 
way ; a mile below, its solidity defied all the action of the water. 
The blocks, wedged together, did great injury to shipping. Above 
the bridge the river rose, covered the North Inch, upon which 
masses of ice rested, and filled the sunk flats of the houses. The 
moon rose on the High Street, half-flooded, and on the boats 
C&rrying passengers to the houses in Canal Street and the South 
Inch. The French prisoners suffered neither inconvenience nor 
fear, standing high above the dreaded river, and underneath the 
eminence from which the Bomans exclaimed, * Behold the Tiber.' "• 

" September 18, 1815. — ^An annual meeting of a Society formed 
for the purpose of educating poor children of Highland parents. 
There was a dinner conducted with sobriety, and a ball in the 
evening, the young women neatly and decently dressed, and 
remarkable for good behaviour. They were the daughters and 




connections of the sabscribers to the Institution. Dr. Stewart, 
the president and director, asked if I would allow Margaret to go 
to see the balL After a few moments' reflection, I answered 
I would much rather not, and he was so good as not to desire it 
I trust I will be enabled next year also to prevent her attending, 
and that her own wishes will not be for it, as they are at present 
Enable her, O Lord, in heart and mind to renounce the vanities 
of the world. Though there were nothing against balls but their 
preventing private and flEunily worship, that should be sufficient 
to keep us from them." 

" 1816. — The spring this year was late and very cold. Not an 
oak leaf was out on the 29th of May. A sudden summer 
followed, with great garden luxuriance. The take of salmon was 
extraordinary ; during twenty-four hours from the morning of 
August 12, the tacksman is said to have made £500. . This turned 
out well for the weavers of Perth, among whom money was so 
scarce at that time. Salmon was sold at 4d. per pound, and other 
things cheap in proportion." 

Mrs. Stewart writes : — 

" December, 1816. — My dear child has this month had measles, 
and happily recovered of them though severely iU. Let us be 
thankful to the Father of Mercies for preserving her, and pray 
earnestly that she may become a true and faithful disciple of the 
blessed Jesus, and, the longer she lives, be the better prepared for 
entering into the glorious inheritance He has purchased for His 
servants by His blood." 

These weeks of seclusion were long looked back to by 
Margaret as having been weeks of reading aloud to her 
by her mother and Miss Davidson, Scott's poetry being 
all read through again as the lighter portion. In 1817 
Mrs. Stewart went for the summer to Seafield, Ravel- 
ston, and Holyrood House. These proved to be her last 
visits to her sisters. She returned home, and wrote: — 

^^ September 5. — In my absence I have read two volumes by 




Bev. Dr. Thomson, Edinburgli ; two by Sumner — a prize book on 
the Evidences of Christianity ; Biddulph on the Litmgy ; volumes 
by Gisboume, Sturm, and James, of Edinburgh ; the lives of 
Williams, Doddridge, and Kirke White, &c &c. I am now 
leading Sir Henry Moncrieff's Sermons. They are evangelical, 
practical, and highly usefuL" 

In 1818 we find her reading through Leighton's 
Works, Milner's Church History, and " Redemption," a 
poem by Walworth. With this her journal ends. 

From the time of Mrs. Stewart's marriage, and until 
Margaret was thirteen, a single knock was heard daily 
at the same hour at the door of their dwelling. As 
soon as she became tall enough to reach up and turn 
the handle, the child was often the first to open the 
door. The welcome visitor was Mr. Henry Naime, with 
cocked hat, high gold-headed cane, and hair in the 
queue worn in France. Tall, erect, with aristocratic 
mien, he brought good cheer whenever he came. There 
was somewhat of sadness imderneath, but it was kept 
hidden. From the night he left, Culloden with the 
Prince till that on which he stood by his dying pillow 
at Rome, he was seldom absent firom him. He remained 
in France till the last of the exiles had returned. His 
stories of the past were inexhaustible. On a wet or 
dull afternoon he would carry oflf his little listener with 
him in fancy to sunnier climes. They would wander 
among the gay flower-plots of Sancerre, which were still 
his, although he had been obliged to sell the house to 
which they belonged. Then he would lead her round 
the comer of the stiff hedge to the quiet spot where his 
father, Lord Nairae, his sister, and his brother had been 




laid. Again he would repeat to mother and daughter 
the oft-told tale of his escape with Prince Charies 
Edward to France, and of the other time when he took 
ship to Holland from Arbroath. On that occasion he had 
adcompanied his father. Lord Naime, Laurence Oli- 
phant, younger of Gask, the Rev. Mr. Maitland, Mr. W. 
Drummond of Strathallan, and Mr. Graham of Garvock. 
It took them five days to reach Amsterdam. He would 
tell of their entertainment by the governor there ; of 
the long cold journey in open carriages to Gothenburg ; 
of the great reception, when Lord Naime gave a ball to 
the ladies, which was attended by the principal families ; 
of the dinner which preceded it, where one dish was a 
wild turkey with twelve blackbirds round it, another, 
two pickled geese, two hares, &c. Mr. Henry Naime 
was poor ; the fifty Louis d'or allowed him annually by 
Louis XV. had been chiefly used to pay his fathers 
debts. He now lived in an apartment, on the third 
storey, in St. John Street, from which he would descend 
on Margaret's birthday, dressed in full court costume of 
dark green satin, and carrying a parcel of bon-bons for 

In summer time another visitor often joined them, 
Colonel CoUyear Robertson, Mrs. Stewart's uncle. He 
still passed the winter months in London, where he was 
often consulted by army men on account of his well- 
known skill in military tactics. His other portfolio he 
could more fitly bring to interest the little grand-niece 
in the Watergate. This contained plans he had drawn 
of the interior of the Ark, with all the measurements of 




the space required for all the animals which could have 
been within it. After years of labour spent in this, he 
was able by it to answer the objections of some sceptical 
friends against the truth of that part of the Old Testa- 
ment narrative. 

These two aged men, who had passed through such 
very "Varied scenes in life, engaged in learned con- 
verse with the lovely eager listener seated at their feet, 
formed a group which none who saw them could easily 

After Waterloo, Margaret wrote, at twelve years old, 
these her first lines, on hearing in the garden by the 
Tay the sound of the guns fired firom Edinburgh Castle 
for the victory : — 

"For the Forty-Second going into Battle. 

" See a martial band advance 
"With uplifted sword and lance ! 
Hark ! in stirring sounds they sing : 
* Praise the Lord, of armies King. 

In the battle's fiercest rage, 

Where our bravest foes engage, 

There may all the nations see 

That we put. our trust in Thee. 

And when Peace propitious smiles 

O'er our mountains, rocks, and isles, 

Grant then, Lord, that it may be 

Still remembered 'twas from Thee. 

When our country calls us home, 

When to Scotia's land we come, 

When our friends, our nation, hail. 

Hear us tell the wondrous tale. 

Still may this our chorus be, 

'Twas the God of Hosts— 'twas He.' " 





AT fifteen, she went to school at Newcastle. Mrs. 
Stewart's strength had been declining; she only 
thought of her child's good, and never of herself, 
else she could not have parted with her. " I left my 
mother," writes Margaret, "without solicitude. Mar- 
garet Sandeman promised to spend some hours with 
her almost every day; and each of her sisters and 
brothers would also do their part, besides my cousins 
and their many Mends." Her parents had planned 
that she should spend two years at school The travel- 
ling chest had been ordered long beforehand ; it is still 
preserved, full of keepsakes of herself, with its brown 
leather cover, and brass nails set in patterns on the top. 
Smaller preparations being completed, her father set 
out with her on the coach journey to Edinburgh. They 
rested at Holyrood with his sister-in-law and her husband, 
Mrs. and Major Nairne, whose only child William was 
now ten years old. The mother was then in the midst 
of her anonymous song- writing, still undiscovered, but in 
later years to be known as the authoress ©f the " Lays 
from Stratheam." Next day brought them to Newcastle. 
64 . 




"I was specially committed," writes Margaret, ''to the chaige 
of Miss Smith (a lady without any earthly ties, who resided 
in the houseX a devoted saint, who had just heen the means 
of the conversion of her friend Miss Kemp, the talented and 
dignified head of the Seminary. The powerful intellect and 
proud spirit of the latter had bowed at the foot of the Cross. She 
had been governess in Lord Barham's family to Baptist Noel's 
sisters, and though not then a Christian, her defence of the 
Sabbath had been made of use to her young pupils. Regarding 
Miss Smith there was a mystery. None of us knew where she 
had been brought up, or who she was. Her God had separated 
her to the work of winning souls, and she stood as a mother to 
the girls, not only while under Miss Kemp's roof, but always 
after. My mother's highest aim was to see me the subject of 
converting grace. I found on arrival, in a blue silk pocket-book, 
or rather letter-case she had sewed for me, lines, most of which 
have for long years escaped my memory — 

" 'Dearest child, we give thee up, 

But not to chance or fate ; 
My Lord and Saviour is thy God, 

Who shall secure thy state. 
« « « » » 

And to our arms thou shalt return 

Again a child of God/ " 

Mrs. Stewart Sandeman's recollections of those times 
when God began to call her to Himself, and to fit her 
for His service, were, like everything else in her ex- 
perience, remarkably vivid. On the second Saturday 
morning, when she was passing from the dressing-room 
on her way out to spend the day at Frances Feather- 
stone's (a fellow-pupil), Miss Smith met her on the 
landing. Those whose life is one long act of kindness 
to others can aflford to make a startling and pungent 
remark when they see it is called for. Her words were : 
" Miss Stewart, do you know that you must either be a 





child of God or a child of Satan ? " The girl was soon 
out of sight ; but the words went with her. 

"The arrow was winged from GocPs quiver, and it sank deep, 
deep into my souL Conviction, rising higher it might be, or 
sometimes lapsing into a deep uneasiness, a rankling sore within, 
remained there for many years. My studies engrossed me. 
Painting was the amusement; music, including thorough- 
bass, employed two hours a-day. I occupied a coiner of Miss 
Kemp's room — my mother's condition on my going there. The 
girls thought I ^ould tell her whatever they told me, so the 
side-stream of gossip had no chance of taking me in. I got the 
first medal ; and it was to please my mother I toiled for it, to 
think of the joy of her seeing the blue ribbon with it round my 
neck Alas ! it was to her death-bed I carried it, though there 
it gained the same sunny smile. Confirmation was to me a 
heavy task. The examination was to be conducted from a printed 
series of questions by a minister known and seen to be intem- 
perate. He was clever, and preached weU ; and I prided myself 
on my notes, written out before Sunday night from memory. One 
night when I had read with great satisfaction my slateful. Miss 
Kemp said, * Reach me down "Cooper." ' It was almost word for 
word ; he had read the sermon from print. This clergyman was 
supplemented by one supposed to be more serious ; but it was all 
sad enough ; and the only relief I remember to have had was 
when one evening at our prayer meeting the hymn was sung : — 

" ' Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched.' 

This I felt was enough for me, if Jesus were to do all this in me. 
But the impression passed away. Once, the next morning 
I think, as I was singing with some degree of appropriation : 

" * One thing I know, all praise to Thee— 
I once was blind, but now I see * — 

I was surprised by my beloved Miss Smith resting her hands 
on my shoulders, and asking me if I could say that But I began 
to work again for salvation. I said hymn after hymn on Sabbath 
evening in my turn ; my stock never became exhausted while 
my two years there lasted. I read by the hour, as we all did, 




some book of divinity. Mine were Boston's 'Fourfold State 
(miserable enough was I when I found the second book descrip- 
tive of myself) and Venn's 'New Duty of Man.' We each 
gave a digest when the book was closed. They forbade me paper 
to write down my own verses; so I walked up and down the 
dark schoolroom, trying to learn them by rote, and fix them so. 
Still, the 'stricken deer' would seek during the holidays, at 
Benton Lodge, in the green fields, a place to be alone, reading 
Cowper's poems and suchlike. Satan had cast in his poisonous 
darts of scepticism. A remark of Chalmers in his 'Astronomical 
Discourses,' where he proposes to answer an infidel doubt, had 
stuck in my mind regarding the smallness of the world, of this 
little planet, and hence its insignificance in comparison with the 
universe ; now it fixed itself deeper. I have thought I would 
give anything could I but prove to demonstration Bible truth ; 
and this fiery trial remained with me more or less till many 
years after, when Jesus took possession of my heart 

'' Walking in these fields, I read these lines of Cowper in large 
print : 

" * Legible only by the light they give 

Stand the soul-quickening wordis, "Believe and live !" ' 

and prayed to make them my own. A young companion was 
awakened at school, and soon found Jesus ; but I remained as 
I was, playing the piano for the others at their prayer meetings, 
and learning even by heart their chorus too : 

< ' ' Buried in soirow and in sin, 
At hell's dark door we lay ; 
But we are raised, by grace divine, 
To see a heavenly day. 

Glory, honour, praise, and power 
Be unto the Idunb for ever I 
Jesus Christ is our Kedeemer, 
HaUelujah 1 Praise the Lord I ' 

'' When I had been fifteen months at Newcastle, I had a letter 
from my mother, saying that, as the holidays began in three 
weeks, tiie places were already taken for my father's journey and 
our return home. She hoped we should meet happily, * unless 




one of us should be suddenly called to a better world.' A 
shadow crossed mj spirit : she was not so weU as usual, 
I thought. But youth soon disperses shadows." 

Margaret wrote to her father : — 

«22n<2Afay, 1819. 

My Dear Papa, — I received with very great pleasure your 
affectionate note. I owe much to your kindness in coming for 
me, and not in this alone but in every instance of it which 
I have experienced since I was bom. I trust I shall be enabled to 
repay in some way the sacrifice which you and Mamma have made 
for my improvement. Many thanks for the money which is 
designed for me. Miss Kemp will without doubt send the 
receipt. I hope Miss Kemp and Miss Smith will go to Scotland 
next year in the holidays. I have told Mamma about our draw- 
ing master's intended visit to Scotland, and hope you will be 
able to give him some information about inns. I hope he can 
see the walks at Bonskeid, though Sir David Wedderbum is 
there. I wish he may see it. — I remain, dear Papa, your affec- 
tionate Daughter, M. Stewart. 

" P.8, — Miss Kemp desires me to give her compliments to you 
and Mamma, and to say that she hopes you will sleep here while 
in Newcastle, as on Thursday she will have an empty house." 

Before the three weeks had run out her father came 
for her ; the journal continues : — 

" One day, unexpectedly, my father arrived to fetch me, saying 
she was not well, but concealing the sad reality that she was 
within a few days of her journey's end. I gathered as much, 
however ; and on the road home that word came with crushing 
power, * In the world ye shall have tribulation.' " 

No shadow; however, hung over the sick-room towards 
which the child was travelling. Eagerly the dying 
mother looked for her return. Her sister Caroline, 
Lady Nairne, who had taken charge at her niece's 





birth, had now again been some time watching over 
her sister in the altered scene. Christie, the same 
little maid whom Mrs. Stewart had chosen some years 
before and had taken exceeding pains in training, was 
now repaying her mistress by minute and thoughtful 
attention. Mrs. Stewart asked if a water-colour of 
Bonskeid,* which Mr. Douglas, one of her friend, 
was finishing, had not arrived It had ; but they had 
not ventured to bring it in at such a time. "Bring 
it and hang it opposite my bed," she said ; and to it 
her eyes were always turning until they closed for 

Mrs. M' Vicar, an intimate friend, came to take leave 
of her. To her she said, "I have no pain — ^nothing, 
only constant fever, — and but one unanswered prayer. 
I have one little idol, too, that I have found it difficult 
to give up, but I have committed her to good hands. 
I have pleasure in * the well-ordered Covenant' " 

Afterwards she asked her maid to bring the store- 
room key for Miss Stewart When it was brought she 
said, " You would not give it her in that state ? " and 
sent it to be brightened. So this chamber, where the 
command had been so often obeyed, " Enter into thy 
closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy 
Father," was now the scene of that open reward which 
is never withheld. 

Into that room, in her thirty-seventh year, — -just 
twenty years before, she had come a bride from Gask. 
She was then a duty-doer, a keeper of Church festivals, 

* Engraved as a vignette to this volume. 




accustomed to record the text of each sermon she 
heard, observing all that had been enforced by the 
chaplain of her childhood, Mr. Maitland, — one of the 
nonjuring clergymen. In that room, during nine years, 
she had dressed for the ball and the theatre, going with 
her husband wherever he led the way. Converse with 
her sister, Amelia, at Dalguise, had indeed begun to 
show her that there was more of heaven to be had on 
earth than she weened : even the Saviour's hand to be 
caught and held. Mrs. Hannah More's tracts had let 
in further light. But it was only when she lost that 
sister, and confronted death undisguised among her 
weeping children, that she perceived and welcomed her 
own share in the finished redemption. There, in the 
motherless home at Dalguise, she had stood forth in the 
light of God's grace. The dedication of her own child, 
now five years old, to the Redeemer, was then made in 
a new way, and had been lived out since, not only in 
great things but in small. 

The carriage with its two occupants arrived. 

"At five o'clock,'* writes Margaret, " I entered my home. She 
was now only listening for my voice. There, close beside her, lay 
the store-room key for me, and already, to another room prepared 
for him, she had sent my father's pillow. Her soul was at rest on 
Jesus' bosom. Aunt Caroline, as she sat with her that long day, 
thought once she saw the Saviour's glory come for her sister. 
When I entered she kissed me, and touched what she saw hanging 
on my neck — the silver medal. She would let none but me read 
the Bible to her. After I had repeated ' My Qod the spring of all 
my joys,' she asked for Hhe comforting hymn.' At each one 
I tried she shook her head, until ' There is a fountain filled with 
blood' brought the sign of assent. But a mother's love and a 




believer's faith were fast merging in the love of Jesus and the 
fruition of glory. Her last words were from the hymn beginning, 
* The hour of my departure 's come.* A short straggle ; Dr. Wood 
said, * Take Miss Stewart away ; ' and I was left desolate indeed." 

The following letter lay written to her daughter : — 

^ Mt Deabest Mabgabet,— Look up with the eye of faith and 
rejoice in the happy change. 

« Whether I am suddenly called away off the stage of life, or 
leave it by some lingering disorder, I am endeavouring to be in 
a fit frame of mind for my departure, so that I hope to be found 
watching when my Lord comes. It may, however, be the will 
of God that my disorder may be such that I shall have no recol- 
lection at the time, or be deprived of speech and unable to express 
my feelings. It is, therefore, a satisfaction I wish to give you and 
other dear friends, that I trust I shall die reconciled to Qod. by 
the death and resurrection of my Saviour ; that is the only plea 
I can make for pardon and acceptance — ^by free grace I am saved ; 
and blessed be the Divine Spirit that gives me an earnest of the 
glory that shall be revealed. 

" If Mr. Skeete, or whoever is clergyman, thinks of endeavour- 
ing to benefit the congregation of the English chapel by a sermon 
on death the Sunday after the interment of my poor remains, 
perhaps he will have no objection to take for his text the first 
verse of. the fifth chapter of Second Corinthians — * For we know 
that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we 
have a building of Grod, an house not made with hands, eternal 
in the heavens.' The apostle does not assert this as hoping only 
for the accomplishment, but as if he saw and knew it as confi- 
dently as any matter of fact on earth ; and not only for himself, 
but for those he was addressing. * We hnow, &c. I hope that a 
truly evangelical sermon will be preached and blessed to the 
hearers, whatever the text may be. 

" You know I was keen about a crimson pulpit-cloth, in- 
stead of any cover that might be intended for our pew, but 
when the other repairs take place the Vestry may perhaps think 
of that. A copy of the Homilies is in every chapel in England, 




Mr. Skeete says, and surely they can afford one here. Thus 
far written (but begun some weeks ago). — 2nd December^ 1816," 

A June day lent its light, early and late, to the large 
funeral, for the eight-and-thirty miles to the old church 
at Blair. 

The summer holidays were spent in retirement by 
the young mourner. Besides the irreparable loss of her 
mother she lost two of her kindest friends in 1819 — 
her grand-uncle, Colonel Collyear Kobertson, and her 
uncle-in-law, Mr. Keith of Dunnottar, who never lost 
an opportimity of giving tangible proof of his affection 
for her and her lamented mother. 

His widow lefb Ravelston, carrying in her hand a 
farewell written to her once happy abode by her niece, 
Margaret Stewart of Bonykeid, beginning — 

" That lovely wood, that swelling hOl, 
I now, alas ! must leave ; 
But 'tis my heavenly Father's will. 
And I no longer grieve." 

Among her mother's papers Margaret found a volume, 
containing, besides the journals from which many 
extracts have been copied into these pages, the follow- 
ing: " Unconnected hints and instructions for my dear 
child, as they occur to my mind. Begun April, 1812." 

<* It gives me much pleasure to see that her late disorder has 
inclined her to increased carefulness about religion— that is, mak- 
ing the proper improvement of it — ^and in the same manner 
I hope every illness or affliction will be the means of spiritual 




« She asked me lately if I would wish her not to go to baUs. 
Though I would not say I hoped she would not, which might haye 
entirely prevented her, as she tries in everything to act up to my 
wishes, yet as I have not had her taught to dance, it will show her 
that I do not wish her to show herself off, if she should at any 
time be desired to go. Without excelling in dancing, and without 
being adorned to attract admiration, her going will not have so 
many bad consequences as is commonly the case. Another most 
important objection remains, and that is the impossibility of 
attending to the duty of evening devotion immediately before 
or after even the simple preparations she would be obliged to make 
for going to a balL Her dress, indeed, might be the same as at 
home, but would not her thoughts be abroad ? and of course her 
prayer would be an empty form. Another form would be 
repeated, and with as little recollection next day, for the morning 
would be passed in bed, breakfast would be late, and so all the 
employments of the day would be in some degree deranged. This, 
at the most moderate computation, is the effect of going to a ball ; 
fatigue, catching cold, vain thoughts, or disappointed hopes, may 
often be added. 

'' As for the play<house, as she values my injunctions she will 
never enter it So far as it exhibits the pomps of the world (not 
to deter &om, but to invite to follow), she has renounced these in 
her baptismal vow. Nor are the flesh and the devil less sworn 
against anywhere than in the theatre as at present conducted. At- 
tending it has, besides, thftobjection made with regard to balls — ^viz., 
the play must be so much in the thoughts, that evening devotion, if 
performed at all, will be a mockery instead of a homage to Qod. 
Going once will make one more keen to go a second time, and 
continually while the opportunity is afforded ; while the price of 
the ticket, &c., on each occasion might be the means of supporting 
a poor family for almost a week. Another consideration is, that 
every person who encourages the play-house by frequenting it, is 
more or less answerable for the temporal and perhaps the eternal 
misery of those poor creatures who contribute to amuse the 
audience ; but who, after their gaudy part is acted, are often 
destitute of the comforts and necessaries of life, while their 
children are brought up in idleness and vice. There are excep- 




tions ; but this must be the case with the greatest part of those 
who follow the wretched profession of actors and actresses. Let 
my dear child, instead of encouraging, do what lies in her power 
to dissuade any individual of that class who may apply to her 
from continuing in that way of life. Let her give them books to 
instruct their children, and the money a season'^ ticket would 
have cost, to put them to learn some usefol employment, so will 
she be exercising a double charity, and endeavouring to turn 
souls £rom the error of their ways. Of those who do so, it is 
said, ^ They shall shine as the stars for ever and ever.' 

'^ I have already warned my dear child against balls, and pro- 
hibited, as far as my commands will hereafter control her, going 
to see plays. I must now express my entire disapprobation of all 
sorts of gaming, that is playing at any sort of game for money, 
however trifling the sum, laying wagers or taking bets, engaging 
in lotteries, or any other thing where there is certain loss for 
uncertain gain by way of amusement. I do indeed find myself 
obliged sometimes to join in a game of commerce, where I put in 
sixpence, and may gain the money of all the other players at the 
table ; when I do so, the pool is invariably allotted to the poor ; 
but I oftener lose my sixpence, which would have been certain 
gain to some poor object I think the time lost is still worse, 
and entreat my dear child will never play more than a very 
limited time, more especially as a company goes to cards or back- 
gammon at the very time that ought to be allotted to evening 
prayers. I am therefore perhaps blameable in not prohibiting 
them altogether, and indeed I trust when she may have a house- 
of her own, cards will never be seen in it. 

" I have allowed you to learn music ; the principal reasons for 
doing so were higher, but one was, to be as a substitute for cards. 
If the instrument is the organ, and the subject sacred music, you 
not only will amuse, but delight and edify the company, even 
on a Sunday evening. 

" You have often heard my sentiments with regard to work. I 
think you should work busily during some part of the day, but 
not in ornamenting clothes for yourself, or even making them. 
Mending I have no objection to ; it is what a servant seldom 
does neatly ; it will not be apt to engage your mind too much. 




and it is the means of saving a great deal to give away ; for some 
articles will last as long after being neatly repaired as before they 
required mending, so one article may serve as long as two would 
have done. Your chief works should be for the poor, whether 
useful for them to wear, which is the best employment, or orna- 
mental for them to sell ; in this your visitors may be very willing 
to assist you. When engaged in working for others, your 
thoughts will more naturally flow in a right train than if you 
were making clothes or ornaments for yourself or friends. 

'* Drawing is a most pleasing amusement, but it is too apt to 
engross the thoughts to be much indulged in, and ought to be 
confined to flowers, and light easy ornaments for your charitable 
works. I spent much time and money in painting in oil; and 
I would wish you never to attempt it. Drawing is one of those 
employments that cannot so well be applied to charitable purposes 
as many others. Where it can be made serviceable, I have no 
objection to it, and it may sometimes be made instructive to young 
people, either in the way of copying maps, or in making collec- 
tions of drawings of plants, where the botanical and common 
names can be subjoined (as in a collection of Miss H. Fergusson's). 
Where the plants themselves can be dried properly, the process 
will take up less time than drawing, and answer the purpose of 
learning the names as well. Small books of these dried plants 
might also be made for basket-women to sell. If sold along with 
a little nosegay of the same flowers in a fresh state, it would increase 
the interest. 

"You will find reading a constant source of instruction and 
amusement. You know my sentiments as to the nature of the 
studies I wished you to pursue in your earliest years. The Bible 
has been the constant companion, solace, and guide of my youth 
and my old age, and I teust it will be yours through life. When 
you were very yoimg, you delighted in reading hymns and get- 
ting many by heart, and I regret that I ever permitted books of a 
different descripti£>n to be put into your hands. I mean children's 
story books ; because the tales in them were not true, and because 
they prevented your continuing to relish as you would have done 
your infant studies. I trust much mischief has not been done to 
your understanding, since you now can listen with pleasure to 




histoij, and that Qod will graciously incline you again to relish 
religious books, and put away from you all the evil my incon- 
sideration may have occasioned, as well as supply to you every 
good advice and means of instruction I have omitted. For this 
I continually pray. It is very hurtful to read any book in a 
cursory manner ; choose those that are excellent, and peruse 
them regularly and deliberately, endeavouring to recollect what 
you have read the day before, when you are going to resume your 
reading. Even your present library of religious books, if studied 
in this manner, will occupy a considerable portion of time, and 
tend much to your improvement. 

« When it shall please God to deprive you of your dear f&ther 
and me, you will probably have no near relations who will have 
it in their power to reside with you, and whom you could consult 
and be directed by in anything that embarrassed or disquieted 
you ; but He who allots your situation will be with you, His ear 
will be open to your call, and His Word will afiford you light. 
Walk by that safest of all guides, in simplicity of heart, wishing 
and praying to be directed in the right way, and casting all your 
care on Him who will never leave you nor forsake you. He has 
called you to be His child, and has led you hitherto, therefore in 
all your wants apply to Him for relief. Our blessed Saviour has 
said that whoever does the will of God shall be as His sister and 
mother. Who can despond after such gracious, such astonishing 
encouragement ] Only bring it home to yourself, and keep these 
and similar promises in your mind. Above all, if left to yourself 
keep from all dissipation, pray to be enabled to make a plan to act 
upon, and strictly adhere to it. Establish family worship, and be 
intimate only with those who, like you, consider themselves as 
pilgrims travelling to a heavenly country, not to be turned aside 
by the vanities of this world, but partaking moderately of its 
necessary refreshments to help you on your way. Help others 
with all your power and influence to go on in the same blessed 
road with yourself, but never permit, no, not the dearest friend or 
relative, to take you aside from it. If narrow, it is safe and 
pleasant, and offers a boundless prospect of your inheritance at its 

** Nothing gives me more anxiety than the thought of your 




marrying without due consideratioii. In this most material of 
all steps, pray earnestly and unweariedly to be directed. If you 
do, you will not marry a man of whom you cannot think He to 
whom you pray would approve. You may be taken in by a 
designing and artful man if you marry on a short acquaintance ; 
it is therefore necessary that you should be vigilant and watchful, 
that you may not suffer yourself to be drawn on to so great a 
partiality for an agreeable outward appearance and the semblance 
of good qualities, as to make it painful for you to draw back when 
upon further acquaintance you find the essential qualities wanting. 
You know what these are, and how few possess them. Yet if you 
many where they are wanting, you involve yourself in number- 
less difficulties relating to this life. You will be thwarted in your 
best designs, grieved to the heart to see him whom you are bound 
to love and obey going on in a course you cannot approve, 
and your prospect will be beyond the grave clouded by the 
thought that your partner on earth does not live such a life as 
to leave you a reasonable hope that he will partake with you 
of the joys of heaven. How much more happy, easy, and 
respectable will it be not to marry at all, than to be united to 
one who, instead of leading and drawing you on in a holy life, 
will be not only as a clog to impede your progress, but who will 
be dragging you back. You wiU not be able to regulate your 
time, your servants, nor your children, as you ought, nor to pay 
that duty of esteem and love a wife owes and promises to a hus- 
band. You will not be able to have regular family worship, 
though that is so essential a duty that you cannot expect a bless- 
ing on your home without it. See on this subject a sermon by 
Drysdale, the introduction to Jay's * Family Discourses,' and an 
excellent treatise * Concerning Prayer and the Answer to Prayer,' 
by Mr. John Brown, minister at Wamphray (1720), where most 
convincing arguments for family devotions are adduced. Oh, 
may you never be mistress of a family where the day is not 
begun and ended with prayer and praise to Him who gives us all 
we have and are. I cannot see how the practice of card-playing 
is consistent with the duties of the evening, and therefore I must 
repeat what I have already mentioned, that I hope cards will not 
be resorted to where you are mistress, nor be joined in by you 




when you are at the houses of others. The self-denial of coming 
home, or retiring to your room when they begin, will be amply 
repaid by the consciousness of doing what is acceptable to Gtod, 
and having your mind less distracted during family and private 
prayer than it would otherwise be. 

*^8epUmbery 1818. — I would have thought it too soon to write 
an3rthing on the subject of forming a connection, &c., had not a 
late occurrence showed me that even a girl at school may be 
addressed by foolish or artful men, actuated by motives of interest 
much more than by r^ard or attachment You happily escaped 
from this snare, but others may be laid by persons who are more 
prepossessing in their appearance and manners, who yet may be 
actuated by the same motives. Fix it, therefore, firmly in your 
mind that you will never countenance the addresses of any person 
who is not decidedly a religious man." 

Dr. Stewart's practice had to go on. The summer of 

1819 was an exceedingly hot one. Agitation, owing 

to his loss, with exhaustion from over- work, in such a 

season, brought on symptoms which threatened apoplexy. 

He could not be prevailed on to take repose, though he 

had fallen asleep at the bedside of more than one patient. 

Neither could he be hindered from setting out again 

with his daughter for Newcastle, where her mother had 

requested that Margaret should study for two terms 

more. An anxious circle of friends gathered to take 

leave of them when the hour for starting came. 

" A week before our journey," writes Margaret, " I had travelled 
with my father in his gig, while he slept with the reins in his 
hand, and the servant, who was mounted, had to lead our horse. 
He would allow no one to accompany us on the journey to Edin- 
burgh, but he trembled at every step while he walked from the 
coach to the carriage, and on reaching the royal apartments of 
Holyrood, the residence of my imcle and aunt, sank helpless into 
a chair. Drs. Hamilton and Abercrombie bled him profusely, and 




contrary to expectation, he was still aUre in the morning. His 
herculean constitution rallied so quickly that he was able to carry 
out his venturous resolution, and took me on to Newcastle within 
the week. He arrived haggard and exhausted, to the alarm of Miss 
Kemp; but strict diet and abstinence were the means of his 
recovery. He returned home, and I was left to my school work." 

She wrote to her father : — 

"Newcastle, IGth November, 1819. 

" My Dearest Papa,— Your affectionate letter, which arrived 
on Saturday, was rendered more welcome from my not having 
heard for so long a time. We were rather uneasy about your 
health. 1 rejoice to hear of its continuance, and may He, who 
still studies our good whether He gives or takes away, long pre- 
serve it to be a blessing to me and all around you, and when it is 
His will that we should bid adieu to earth, may we, though 
utterly sinful and unworthy in ourselves, be received into glory 
for the sake of Him who died to save sinners, and die like my 
dearest Mamma, rejoicing in that Saviour. I am quite delighted 
with the patriotism of those whom I consider it an honour to 
call my countrymen (and you among the rest) in subscribing 
;£1000 for the poor. Long may Perth be a bright example of 
benevolence in the higher, of submission and resignation in the 
lower, classes. I have seen two lines, *Let Glasgow flourish 
ever fair, and long may Perth with her compare.' However, 
I think the latter has not only attained the comparative but the 
superlative degree in this affair. 

" The Sandemans are wanderers now. I must say Anna is not 
the fixed star of Springland, yet we must not call her a wander- 
ing star ; she is rather a planet shedding its mild influence around, 
and then returning to its favourite point, for Springland will 
still, I think, be her favourite place of abode. I shall, 'tis true, 
miss them very much if they go, but shall I complain whilst my 
dearest Papa is striving by every kind attention to please me ] 
Many thanks for the stuffed birds ; yours has ever been kind- 
ness which I fear I shall never repay, but it shall be the endeav- 
our of my life to do so. The draught arrived safe within the 




letter. I am much obliged to yon for the money which you 
send me. I will take great care of my music and all my books. 
I was sorry I forgot the hair, but will send it in this letter. In 
case I cannot write to Aunt Keith, will you tell her that I never 
received two letters from her, so one has been lost I fancy. . Mr. 
Croser's family are coming into town for the winter, so I shall 
perhaps not be asked to go in the Christmas holidays. I have 
heard nothing from Miss Chaytor. How little £2000 is, when 
divided amongst four, yet I hope Mr. Kay's friends will assist his 
children. Be sure, please, to remember me to General Stuart ; 
and, if you see Miss Chaytor, to apologise for my not calling. 
I am sure I did mean to ask you to go, but we went off in such a 
hurry to Dalguise that I could not well do so. As for her 
brother's displeasure, that shall not deter me from doing what 
I consider as my duty, and I believe as to preaching I shall not 
lose by the exchange ; though Mr. Skeete's opinion of the Scotch 
clergy is very low, mine is not so. Miss Kemp desires me to 
present her compliments and thanks for the draught, which is 
perfectly correct, and for which she sends a receipt. Miss Smith 
also desires her compliments to you. Farewell, dear Papa. 

" Please give my kindest love to Margaret, and tell her to write 
very soon. Love to Mrs. Hollo, Mrs. and the Miss Youngs, and 
the Miss Scotts, Mrs. Marshall, Fen House, and the rest of the 
Sandemans, and receiving the same for yourself — I remain, my 
dearest Papa's affectionate daughter, Mabgaret.*' 

Dr. Stewart wrote in answer : — 

"Perth, 20th November, 1819. 

"My Dear Margaret, — I was favoured with your very 
sensible and well-expressed letter of the 16th current, evening, 
Miss Kemp's receipt for her amount, and balance that was 
intended for you. The sentiments expressed there are very proper 
ones, and such as I would wish to be the rule of my conduct not 
only to the present, but in the future. It surely is my duty, and 
now a double charge devolves on me, and hope I will be sup- 
ported in fulfilling that attention necessary from a parent to a 
child that has never yet given me the most distant cause of 




offence, but ever anticipated my wishes ; and I look with pleasure 
and satisfaction to the time that I will be blessed with her society 
and advice in onr domestic concerns, which I know will be given 
with sincerity, and from the heart Since writing last I have had 
several of onr friends with me here. In the first place, Mrs. 
Keith, on her way south. Colonel Collyear Robertson, on his way 
south, waa at the same time joined by Mrs. Keith on her way to 
Dalguise for the winter. Then came Mrs. Douglass and her 
niece on their way to Edinburgh; and, some days after their 
arrival, they were joined by her son George from his tour on the 
Continent, in good health and spirits ; and he affords them great 
amusement looking over his sketches and journals. All these 
mention you with pleasure and regard, as do all our acquaint- 
ances in town, and desire their best wishes to you. The Sande- 
mans and the Miss Scotts are only arrived in town last week, 
(Jeneral Stewart's family, the Rollos, the Youngs at Bellwood. 
Miss Isabella is to be married soon, I believe, to Dr. Eamsay, who 
came home some time ago in bad health from the East Indies, 
and returns there again, having got weU, attended by her. 
Margaret Sandeman wrote to you last week, I believe. I carried 
her up to Logic Almond on Saturday, and Glas was of the party. 
She remains for a week. He and I returned on the Sunday. 
All there are weU. They had a letter lately from Sir William 
and Lady Drummond telling of their safe arrival at Naples, 
where they are to pass some time. I had a very long letter, 
dated the 26th October, at Kome, from Mrs. Oliphant of Qask. 
She says Laurence has got quite stout, and that she means to set 
out from there early in the spring with her family for Qask, 
where she means to stay for the future. I think they wiU be 
home about July or August. She inquires very kindly for you ; 
and says she received a good and kind letter from you. To- 
morrow I am to have Captain Gilbert Stewart, Elinvaid here, 
I believe, to acquaint me of everything being nearly arranged 
for his marriage with Miss Nan. Stewart." 

Most heartily she threw herself into her work till 
the following spring. Friends previously made came 
round her with every proof of love. Like a star shone 




before her eyes the text her mother chose and left in 
her desk for Mr. Skeete to preach from on the Sab- 
bath after her death, " We have a building of God, an 
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
Yet how to reach it was the problem, and the fight 
with unbelief lasted still. 

" I went," she writes, " to the communion. At one time in pre- 
paration I seemed to catch a glimpse of Jesus. At another time I 
went in an agony to knock at Miss Kemp's door to ask her to let 
me stay away, for I could not believe. She did not know the 
depth of this unbelief, and refused. I felt that to all my over- 
whelming sin was added that of doubting God's own Word." 

But though in conflict with unbelief and unsatisfied, 
she could on occasion, when placed on her defence 
declare to which side she wished to belong. 

It once happened, when the young ladies were amus- 
ing themselves in the evening, that one of them twitted 
Margaret on the tendency of the Scotch to boast of 
their ancestry. Seated in her deep mourning, while 
cut to the quick, she repeated grandly these lines in 
answer : — 

" My boast is not that I deduce my birth 
From loins enthroned or rulers of the earth ; 
But higher far my proud pretensions rise, 
The child of parents passed into the skies." 

Before leaving school, she wrote to her father : — 

"Newcastle, 2^h April, 1820. 

" My Dear Papa, — It is a long time indeed since I wrote to 
you ; but spring is at length arrived, and writing will soon be 
unnecessary. I need not say that anticipation affords me 
great pleasure. June is near, and I then hope to see you. 
Have you been at Bonskeid lately] There has been a mas- 




querade here. I think it is a most improper thing ; for such 
speeches are made, and it seems rather like children at play, to 
say nothing of the waste of time. 

'^ So Mrs. Sandeman and her daughter are to be in London. 
Springland looks so desolate when they are gone; but really 
nothing is certain on earth. I had hoped to see them all this 
summer ; but disappointments are necessary for us. We 
must learn to look higher for perfect happiness, my dear 
Papa. We are all too apt to think that we can love Gk)d of our- 
selves; the Bible bids us ask for new hearts, that we may 
arrive in heaven. Do yoii think you will trust to Mr. Tyson 
to bring mel He will not come till a day or two after we 
break up. With what delight shall I see dear Scotland again ! — 

** * O Tweed, gentle Tweed ! as I pass thy green vales, 
More than life my tired spirit inhales ; 
For Scotland, my darling, lies full in my view, 
With her bare-footed lasses and mountains so blue. 
To the mountains away my heart bounds like the hind, 
For home is so sweet, and my (parent) so kind.' — 

" You see, I retain my Highland spirit still, and my love for 
Scotland ! I hope to hear from you, my dear Papa, in the 
next frank, I have been going on with dancing at your wish, 
but fear that I cannot say that I show * in every action dignity 
and grace.' However, I trust you may see some improve- 

When Miss Kemp gave up her charge of Margaret at 
her leaving school, she wrote to Dr. Stewart : — 

"Newcastle, June, 1819. 

4e 4e ¥c 4( ¥c ¥c 

" In parting with Miss Stewart we shall all feel deep regret, 
for I never met with a young person who so completely interested 
every one in her favour. She is, indeed, imiversally beloved 
here. With regard to myself, I really cannot express my feelings. 
The ties of affection and friendship which bind us will, I trust, 
never be broken. May she long continue a blessing to you, sir ; 
and may you long live to enjoy it, is the wish of ..." 





TURNED seventeen, she went home in June to stay 
with her father for a little at Bonskeid, and visit 
their friends in the neighbourhood Neither Dr. 
Stewart nor his daughter could disabuse the minds of 
tenants there of the terror that spirits were to be heard 
wailing in the old burying-ground, called Claoidhe-^lle, 
by the Tummel side, as well as making noisy demonstra* 
tions at the Mains of Bonskeid. They asserted that ever 
since the contractor who had built the new farm-house 
there had stolen some gravestones to complete it, the 
spirits had returned to the place where their ashes lay to 
bewail the indignity to the dead. While the farm-servants 
were at supper, stones came rattling down the chimney; 
and when the inmates went to bed, low moaning sounds 
were heard which would not let them sleep. An old 
man still tells that when he went to supper with the 
little boy of the family at the Mains, and the two sat 
down by the hearth on their creepies (low stools) to eat 
their porridge, a long wand would mysteriously come 
over from the door and touch them gently till they 

shivered with fear, and then as unaccountably be lifted 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 


off again and vanish. Articles appeared in the papers 
on the subject, and people came to see from all quarters. 
While the minister of Blair- Athole and a friend were on 
a visit of inquiry, the trough at which the swine were 
feeding began to move, mounted to the roof, and 
disappeared on the other side. At last the Rev. Dr. 
Irvine, of Little Dunkeld, resolved to go and remain till 
the mystery was solved. It became clear to him that 
two yoimg persons who wished to marry and settle there 
were determined to frighten the old people out of the 
premises. When they found their plot was discovered, 
and that they would now be watched, quiet was restored 
to the graveyard and farm. The good people, however, 
could not live at ease in the same house with the 
dreaded stones which had come down the chimney, so 
Dr. Irvine had them placed in his gig, took them to the 
mason who was then erecting the wall round his manse, 
and had them built into it, saying they would trouble 
no one any more. A circle of beautiful green thorn 
now grows like a labyrinth in the centre of the ancient 
burying-place. Remains of a ruined wall can be seen 
round it. The sacrilegious hands which removed every 
gravestone may have pulled the wall down too. Of the 
ancient Culdee chapel which tradition no less than the 
old Celtic name indicates to have once stood there, and 
connects with the Priest's Stone across the river, no trace 
now remains. For dwellers on both sides of the strath 
this was the favourite resting-place up to the middle of 
last century. Thither the dead were brought from the 
glen, and by the ford from over the water, in the public 




basket-work coffin, which was then in fashion, and laicj 
in mother eartL Later still it became the customary 
asylum for such as had forfeited the right to burial in 
sacred places. 

Mrs. Stewart had suggested that Christie should 
return to be her daughter's maid; but Margaret had 
become independent at school, and delayed the arrange- 
ment One windy day, however, at Perth, she set 
out as usual on her favourite walk to Springland. 
As she reached the end of the bridge, a gust of wind 
carried her large crape veil to the opposite side of 
the bridge, where, unobserved by her, Christie was 
walking. In a moment the girl was by her side, 
the veil was securely pinned, and an invitation given 
to call next morning. Margaret walked on, thinking 
how each trifle seemed to bring about her mother's 
wishes, and then stopped to look out on the beauti- 
ful river on the banks of which her whole life was 
to be spent. Farther north it was the roaring Tummel, 
and here it was the wide, fast-flowing Tay. Never 
could she be persuaded long to leave its banks, unless 
for a visit of duty to any one who was ill. Seldom is 
such a life of eighty years so perseveringly spent at 
home. Next morning Christie came to remain. Sixty- 
three years afterwards, she writes : — 

" 22nd August, 1883. Miss Stewart was always Tvriting poetry 
and throwing the scraps away, so I was always gathering them 
and hoarding up those I liked. I thought perhaps you might 
like to read the two I enclose — all that I have now. The one 
that is so much soiled, I suppose I had snatched out of the fire. 
It is addressed to her friend, Margaret Sandeman, after Mrs. 




Stewart's death, and is still legible, though torn, singed, and 
marked with the folds of sixty years." 

*' She is gone whose tender heart acled well a mother's part ; 
She who loved us well when here surely claims the falling 

Who shall now direct my way ? Who shall be my guide and 

Who shall hush my every fear t Who shall dry the falling 


Hark ! my friend, a soothing voice bids my drooping heart 

rejoice ; 
Tis my mother's voice I hear, see, she dries the falling tear. 

' Ere I left that world of woe, and was done with all below. 
While I saw thee weeping near, saw the frequent-falling tear, 

Then with faith I asked of heaven that a Guardian might be 

Might dispel all grief and fear, and might dry the falling tear. 

Then, my child, mourn not for me, Jesus shall thy guard- 
ian be, 
He who is for ever near ; then, oh dry the falling tear ! 

Nor forget my last request ere I mingled with the blest : 
I bade thy Margaret be near, bade her dry the falling tear. 

To her affection I resign that youthful heart that once was 

Thy dropping spirit she wiU cheer, she will dry the falling 


Maxgaxet received numerous visitors from town and 
county. As the months passed more than one sought 
her hand. A lady of rank held counsel with Dr. Stew- 



88 MARKlAaC. 

art, to bring about a union with one of her relatives 
who had occasionally met Miss Stewart. The girl 
was not to be told, Hut a visit at the Castle was 
arranged, and there accordingly she went. Nothing 
came of this meeting, nor of subsequent interviews 
at home ; at which her father was much displeased 
Her heart was already given to the brother of her early 
friend, Margaret Sandeman ; although he was too con- 
siderate of her youth and prospects to take any oppor- 
tunity for the existing feeling being made known on 
either side. 

A party of young people was made up to show a 
school-companion from England the grounds of Craig- 
halL Margaret brought home with her a white rose, 
and told her father who had given it He questioned 
her about the matter, and sent for Mr. Glas Sandeman. 

"Might she not, at least," asked Mr. Sandeman, 
towards the close of their interview, " be permitted to 
go abroad ?" as it was well-known that her aunt and 
cousins at Gask wished her to accompany them to 
Italy. Not a word should, meantime, be spoken or 
written by him to her. The reply was that he was a 
fortune-hunter, but that his ambitious schemes should 
be effectually guarded against, and that the marriage 
must be now or never. 

"Then," exclaimed the young man, "undoubtedly it 
shall be now, should shei consent" 

Margaret, in turn, when told of this interview, begged 
to be sent to Italy for a year, free. 

"And do you really believe that when you return, 




after a year, you will do as I wish ? " asked her 

" Never, papa," was the reply, " could I do anything 
but with your permission ; but in my own choice I am 

After this conversation she wrote to him as fol- 
lows : — 

"My Dear Father, — How my heart is lightened by the 
thought that my beloved father is not entirely estranged from me. 
A wish from you is enough. You alone shall name the day. 
Should it be six months hence, I will delay it ! Yes, with 
delight shall I remain with you, if you will still love me, and 
still feel pleasure in my showing myself, and subscribing myself 
your attached daughter, M. Stewart." 

The old chief, however, now in his sixty-eighth year, 
would neither reason nor relent. The decree went 
forth that the marriage should take place in a fort- 
night, with her rights to property signed away ; other- 
wise — ^with his permission — never. In a fortnight was 
the wedding-day. 

The morning of the last day in her Other's house had 
come ; he had been called away for the forenoon. At the 
ringing out of St John's bell she came down dressed for 
church as usual, wearing, for the last time, mourning for 
her mother. Miss Maria Drummond, who had spent 
three weeks with her, bade her remain at home, as the 
banns would be proclaimed. She handed Mr. Laurence 
Oliphant, who had come the night before, a volume 
of sermons to choose from, to read one aloud when the 
household should assemble ; and offered Margaret some 




small white pin-cushions to arrange with her initials in 
pins, for fastening on the favours at the wedding next 
day. The bride asked i£ she might delay this till the 
morning. *' Brides are always useless/' said the lady, 
and did it hersel£ 

The bride sat by, her thoughts sometimes reverting to 
the paper of discharge she had signed for her father the 
night before along with her marriage-contract which 
settled on her some hundred pounds. 

At nine o'clock on Monday morning, 18th September, 
attired, as was then the fashion, in a riding-habit, a hat 
with a white plume held in her hand, her hair plainly 
braided, she descended the stair of the old house, leaning 
on her father's arm. Margaret Sandeman was bridesmaid, 
along with Miss Maria Her cousin, Laurence Oliphant 
of Gask, was groomsman. Dr. William Thomson, of the 
Middle Church, performed the ceremony. The guests 
crowded in to the breakfast-table in the dark dining- 
room. Dr. Stewart had ordered a cake of unusual 
dimensions, and, it was remarked, had never played the 
host with greater charm. The four horses could 
scarcely draw the carriage through the moving mass of 
citizens gathered in the narrow Watergate and filling 
the streets at either end. Cheers rent the air when she 
appeared ; cheers, too, for her husband, who was not less 
beloved in the city ; and together they drove away — 
'Fair Maid of Perth/ that she was, and fair matron 
now to be. After a wedding-trip among the Scotch 
lakes, they went to visit Mr.* and Mrs. Fraser at 




The windows of the apartments in Charlotte Street, 
to which they returned, command a view of the 
Grampian chain, the Tay, and Springland — the residence 
of her fe,ther-in-law, Mr. David George Sandeman. He 
had first married his cousin, whose son the bridegroom 
was. His present wife had been Miss Margaret Fraser, 
of Newton, Inverness-shire. 

The brothers and sisters at Springland, who had all had 
Margaret Sandeman for a playmate as far back as they 
could remember, vied with one another who should give 
her the warmest reception, or oftenest row her across the 
river to their home, where she passed most of her time. 
With the girls she continued her studies. Mademoiselle 
Maillardknew how to impart that perfect French accent 
which Margaret never afterwards lost. With Anna, so 
good a performer that there was silence whenever she 
opened the piano, the young bride practised her duets. 

In these days embroidery formed the constant occu- 
pation while reading aloud was going on. At the 
French Court, under the old regime, it was supposed 
conversation could not proceed without it. Margaret's 
grandmother had told how, at Versailles, they would 
work a pretty leaf with their tatting-shuttle, seeing 
who would finish one first, and then toss it into the fire 
of oakwood on the tiled hearth, unwilling to have it 
thought they were working for any useful end. The 
young ladies regularly visited the Perth Female School, 
to found which Mrs. Stewart and others had secured 
from the town a flat in the Hospital, buildings. On 
Sabbath, husband and wife went always to Dr. Stewart's 




pew in the East Church, and spent every evening with 
him when he happened to be at home. 

In speaking of the happiness of these first years, her 
husband repeatedly said that no words described her so 
well as those of Bums — 

" Artless simplicity marks her its ain." 

We quote a verse from a ballad — one of the two 
which Christie, her maid, sacredly kept for sixty years 
after the young writer had thrown them aside, and 
which gives us a glimpse of their life together; it 
would be written only to sing once to him, to the 
Scotch air to which the words were set, and then to be 
thrown away. " There 's nae luck aboot the hoose," and 
" Jock o' Hazeldean" were her favourite songs. Refer- 
ring to her husband, she says : — 

" He canna bear his wife to be 

A moment frae his sight ; 
And if I chance to speak a word, 

He listens in delight 
A single smile I dauma gie, 

I canna heave a sigh, 
But he, my dearest husband, 

Is sure to ask me why." 

Soon afterwards another bride entered the family — 
Julia Bumand, wife of Hugh Sandeman in London. 
She became to Margaret a sister indeed, and their 
warm attachment lasted to the close of life. They 
were of the same age. Year after year Julia's children 
made Springland their home in summer time ; and her 
daughter Margaret became the wife of Mrs. Stewart 
Sandeman's fifth son, Charles. 




One day in the autumn of 1821, Dr. Stewart met his 
daughter in the street, she took his arm, and he saw her 
home. The next day she was prostrated with lassitude, 
accompanied by overpowering sickness. It was not 
long till, as he watched by her bedside, her father 
recollected that, just before meeting her, he had been 
helping to lift a man in confluent small-pox. Her 
mother-in-law kept watch beside her, told her the 
complaint was simply a miliary eruption ; but found 
various pretexts for removing the mirrors. When the 
disease was at its height, however, Margaret chanced 
to pull her watch from the pocket hanging overhead, 
and turning it in her hand, opened the case, where she 
at once caught sight of the frightful secret. Her watch- 
ful mother-in-law looked on aghast — her care all in 
vain. She only redoubled it. She had herself twenty- 
one brothers and sisters, and great experience of life ; 
nor could her stories to amuse the patient soon come to 
an end. Her mother, Margaret Chisholm of Chisholm, 
had married in her sixteenth year. It was told of her 
that when the first visitors arrived at Newton to pay 
their respects, the old butler could not find his mistress, 
Mrs. Fraser, till he bethought him of looking up into 
the branches of a large pear tree, whence she descended 
to receive her friends. A year later she had carried her 
baby with her into the closet where the linen was kept. 
Having transacted her business with the housemaids, 
she went to look after another part of household work. 
When nurse came for baby, he was amissing, and 
Mamma was at a loss. In a moment she flew with the 




keys of the linen closet, and on one of the shelves found 
baby safely laid. 

The patient struggled bravely through; the long 
dark tresses were saved, her husband separating hair 
from hair, and only one mark remained on her temple. 
But her first babe, little Marjory Ann, came trembling 
into life in consequence, and opened her eyes upon the 
world only for one short month. 

In March, 1823, a second daughter was bom, and 
was named Margaret Fraser, after the mother-in- 
law who had so tenderly watched her through that 
terrible illness. Another daughter was a disappoint- 
ment to some of their friends ; and so the young mother 
valued the more the congratulations sent her by old Mrs. 
Allison of Montreal Cottage, accompanied by the mes- 
sage that a girl was very useful as the eldest in a 
family. The young mother trained her up to be less a 
daughter than a sister for sixty years to come. 

Remembering her own experience, Mrs. Stewart 
Sandeman afterwards wrote these lines : — 

What is a marriage without love 1 

A mighty preparation 
Of gold, and gems, and broidered robes, 

Of settlements and station ; 
Of smiling, curtseying Abigails, 

To ornament the bride ; 
And pretty ambling ponies for 

Her chosen one to ride. 

The last Parisian pattern for 

Her bonnet there must be, 
And the finest petUpoint for 

Son bonnet de nuU, 




Her cards for visiting engraved 

With copperplate so fair ; 
And the chains, and all the pretty seals, 
The new-made shield to bear. 
Oh ! charming the confusion, the bustle, and the show, 
The decorated Bride^ and the smiling, scented Beau. 

What is a marriage made by love 1 

A deep and swelling joy, 
A bliss too overwhelming — 

Which knows not of alloy. 
Two minds attuned in harmony 

To feeling's softest tone ; 
Two loves so fondly plighted, * 

Two hearts becoming one. 
Their whole existence lighted 

By one unclouded ray; 
All happiness before them, 

And sorrow fled away. 
The thought, all re-assuring, 

Whatever storms may rise, 
That still love's star of splendour 

Shall re-illume their skies. 
A hope that far outstretches 

This dark terrestrial ball ; 
A faith serenely smiling 

That triumphs over all. 





Peggy's nubseby. 

MARGARET'S mother-in-law chose for her as 
nurserymaid one who had served herself not 
long before as housemaid. Peggy came to 
her post, and held it for forty years without asking 
respite or holiday, except to go with the children where 
they went, and to visit them when they came to have 
houses of their own, where she received all the love and 
reverence due to a second mother. 

She had only one near relative, an aunt, who left her 
house furniture; and Peggy, in her independence of 
spirit, paid the rent of the room all her lifetime, that 
she might have a place at command to retire to, using 
it for only one hour in the week — ^between morning 
and afternoon church on Sabbath — till, resisting every 
entreaty to the contrary, she retired to die there at the 
close. She bequeathed the savings of a lifetime to 
various charities in Perth, and to her church, after 
dividing £200 in equal portions among the grand- 
children of the &mily. So identified did a nurse at that 
time become with the fsimily she served, that it was not 

uncommon for her to be called by the family surname. 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 


Into the nursery at Baxossa Place, Peggy received, 
Slst August, 1824, the boy who came at last, named, 
for his grandfather, Alexander Stewart, as beautiful a 
boy as ever bounded over the heather. His grandfather 
gave him a rock at Bonskeid to be his own, with ferns, 
and bluebells, and blaeberries, too, upon it ; it was just 
opi)Osite the old front-door to the north. In later years 
it was covered, by the desire of an English tenant, with 
cart-loads of earth, and grass sown, and laurels and 
juniper planted, for, he said, it was out of taste to have 
anjrthing so rough as rock near a front-door. 

He was a warm-hearted, if a passionate boy, but he 
showed no temper to his sister; and these grew up 
together as one in play and spelling-book till school days 
came for both at the same school in Barossa Street, 
where they sat on two forms, the one behind the 

23rd April, 1826, another boy came into the nursery 
for the two others to take care of; for Peggy really made 
them think they shared the charge with her from the 
very first. As he was bom on the day when we used 
to watch at the window for the rockets shooting up into 
the dark sky, because it was the birthday of the king, 
George IV., Augustus was added to the little boy's 
name, David George, after his grandfather. The first 
thing we dimly remember of him was seeing him carried 
to the window by his papa, who wished to assure him- 
self that his eyes were black like his mother'a As 
weeks, they said, sometimes pass before the colour of a 
baby's eyes is surely known, this examination was 




repeated, till we began to wonder if there were anything 
wrong in the colour of the blue eyes already in the 
nursery. Perhaps this led us the more to watch these 
large black orbs of his when they did begin steadily to 
shine out on the inmates of that nursery, and this made 
us the less surprised when passers-by would stop the 
nurses on the street and ask his name. Not that these 
black eyes smiled on us or others ; he was a very grave 
child, and was not seen to smile even at his play till he 
was four years old. He was easily put out when inter- 
fered with, and though he did not get angiy like the 
others, he became rather sulky, and then ran away of 
his own accord to a convenient comer under the slab 
of the open sideboard of the dining-room, or if it were 
in the nursery, behind the folds of the dress of his dear 
nurse Peggy, till he felt he could come out again. If 
we followed him to bring him back among us, he would 
say, before he could well pronounce the words, ** No 
speak to me, black dog is on me." Where he got this 
way of describing his little temper we did not know, but 
we had to learn to wait his time ; and before long, with 
slow pace, he would cross the floor to his little stool, 
drawing it in before the chair on which his toys were 
spread He liked the toys divided before he began to 
play. He gave a large share to each of us, but 
once allotted, his own was sacred. He was often seen 
at such times with a little flock of sheep in order before 
him, penned in with the white stakes and stiff row of 
green trees on one side from the box of toys ; he would 
spread his arms round them if any one came neax him, 



pbooy's nursery. 99 

and say^ " Me no allow anybody meddle with me beasta" 
His grandpapa. Dr. Stewart, made a joke of his grave 
ways, and his care for his sheep, and said that if the 
boy would get good Gaelic, he would try to get him 
the parish of Dull when he was a man. David being, 
after that, from his gravity, called " Davie Dull," kept 
it in mind, and on a stormy day, when again the sheep 
were set before him, he looked out at the rain and wind, 
saying, " Oh, what my poor sheep do now, me take and 
put them in me church at Dull." 

David awoke early, and was clamorous for the strik- 
ing of the light in the dark winter morning. Children 
now-a-days can hardly fancy all that went on a genera- 
tion ago before a light was got. No gas jets were then 
ready to rise in a moment from a spark into a fan-tail 
flame. No matches were then found to rasp on the 
sand-paper. Before the hour could be seen on the 
face of the nursery clock, the long weights of which 
hung half-way down the wall, a great deal had to 
happen. Peggy's grand object was to maintain quiet 
in the nurseries till the youngest should awake, quite 
early enough, of himself. Then she rose and felt for 
the tinder-box. Then came a sound of the flint, a 
sight of her face, and all was dark again. After many 
strokes, one spark of light rested in the tinder, which 
we had seen her make, then the brimstone end of a 
long white wooden match tried to catch the flre and 
give it to the candle. Years after, when lucifer 
matches were invented, a lady gave David, as the 
greatest possible present, one of the first boxes that 



100 Peggy's nursery. 

found its way to Ferth^ so that he could light his own 
candle for study in the early morning. 

For use at breakfast Peggy had for each child a wooden 
porringer, a pretty horn spoon, and milk-tin of different 
shape or size, so as to avoid, as far as she might, the 
ever rising disputes of the little ones. Instead of the 
week-day content (milk and water) at tea-time, she asked 
them to brovm tea with herself on Sabbath evenings, 
and gave each a cup of tea out of her own tea-pot. 

One of the most amusing events of the year to us 
was when she carried the contents of a certain patch- 
work bag, containing odds and ends which others would 
have thrown away, to Miss Forrester's little china-shop 
to be exchanged for stoneware, with the balance paid 
in coin out of her own pocket, and let the children 
choose mug, cup, saucer, sugar-basin, or tea-pot, accord- 
ing as the breakage of their careless little hands might 
have been. This made the children very careful of 
such ware. Grotesque patterns and gaudy colours were 
chosen for the new dishes, each of which seemed to 
have a little history of its own. She assigned to each 
child a broad, low, flat stool, which she scoured white 
every Friday; and as one of her rewards, we were 
allowed to turn them upside down for boats, the feet 
being favourably shaped for this. The children of the 
next generation, climbing up the same nursery stair, 
had boat races beside Peggy in the same stools. 

With the making-up of the fire for the day she 
would by no means trust the nursery-maid. How often 
we watched her doing it I To k-eep a cool nursery, save 




coal^and avoid dust, she put on each cinder, large or 
small, saying the cinder was the best of the coal, from 
which no more dust would fall; then some fresh coal 
with dross, and a few ashes on the top, with a sprink- 
ling of water to keep the flame down. All this time 
baby was fast asleep where she had tucked him, after 
his bath, in the crimson swing-cot with the green 
gossamer curtains — ^the cot so tied that it could only 
rock a very little way. She held it to be a sin to 
awake him, as, if he did not get his sleep out, he 
would not be happy all day after. If we stole 
up to her and said he was moving and awake, she 
would spring to the cot, and with a very slight rock and 
a very faint hush ! hush ! quiet him again. Six baby 
boys, one after another, had their slumbers watched in 
that crimson cot by Peggy's jealous eye. 

Each of those brought up in that nursery owed more 
than they can ever tell to her who was to each a second 
mother. The laws she made in many trifling little 
things are law to them still. She was strict with 
her children, yet they had no fear of her, nor minded 
asking her the same question many times. One of 
them remembers going to her again and again to ask 
her the difference between an apostle and a disciple, 
when she would have been ashamed to ask again any- 
where else. She put the children to sleep for a treat 
when she had time, by reading a chapter of the Bible, 
or the Pilgrim's Progress, or the Holy War. 

She was very orderly, thrifty, and saving. She had 
a rule that only one candle was to be burned nightly; 




and as she sat up late to mend or put to rights what 
had been torn or spoilt in the day, she would try to 
amuse the children by the light of a bright fire, till 
bab/s bed-time came, without lighting the candle, so 
that when her hands should be free it might bum 
further into the night. Some said Peggy's candle was 
the last to be put out along the Terrace. Little David 
was the most apt to learn her habits of order and her 
methodical ways. She could even trust him with the 
candle to go into the next room, when she would trust 
none of the others. She knew he would hold his little 
hand up between the flame and the draught, and let 
the socket swing between two fingers so as to cany it 

When sent with a message up to the nursery, his 
more nimble companions often rushed down two or 
three times over with the wrong article; but when 
David was the envoy, he was sure to come back with his 
sedate step and serious face, and with the commission 
carefully executed. The fable of the hare and the 
tortoise always found illustrations in him. In child- 
hood, plodding was his life, nothing came to him 
otherwise. He did not trust his memory, as it had 
sometimes &iled; and he never dreamed of being 
beaten in what he tried. He had been sent up for 
some embroidery cotton, cut and folded in papers. 
Other little feet going on other errands passed and 
repassed him on the stair. He sat down on each step 
to repeat to himself, " Long threads," and came safely 
down again with his cottoiL 



Peggy's nursery. 103 

When he was three years old, being hungry for 
breakfiEust, he slipped away for his porridge, reaching up 
on tiptoe to the window where it had just been set to 
cooL The whole contents poured down into the poor 
little bosom, taking off the skin from the chin down- 
wards. His patience was pitiful to look on through 
days and nights of pain, for he could not even bend 
bis little head The dressing of the bum was borne 
without a word, then at once he cried, "Cap on, 
cap on; rise up, rise up; mamma's room, mamma's 
room." He was very amusing in the whooping- 
cough; arrested in his play by the coming fits, he 
retired to prepare to meet the enemy by taking a firm 
hold, and then trotted on again to his play. That 
play was hushed for a few days by the fear that 
the sister was to be taken away from them. One 
remedy more was thought of, and Peggy hastened to 
procure it The young patient detected in her hand, 
half-hidden, on her return to administer it, a copy of 
" Jack the Giant-killer" in yellow cover, as a reward. 
Peggy had seen her looking at the book one day in the 
shop window. The child long treasured the book. 

When a child was really ill, our mother's room was 
the hospital. There the kindest of fathers bent over 
his little girl for weeks, morning and evening, and the 
sweet mother taught, line by line, till it was committed 
to memory, the hymn — 

" Jesus, my all, to heaven is gone, 

He whom I place my hopes upon ; 

His track 1 see, and I '11 pursue 

The nairow way till Him 1 view." 




The words of the whole are beautiful, and such is the 
force of gracious habit, that they have been more or less 
remembered by the learner every evening since. 

Frederick, born 24th September, 1827, was now the 
baby, and so fond of Peggy that nobody else had much 
chance. Some one asked him why he would not be 
happy with the rest downstairs. He said, '' Mamma is 
just mamma, and papa is just papa, but Peggy is a 
dear jewelly pet of a pet." 

For reasons to be afterwards explained Mr. and Mrs. 
Glas Sandeman exchanged their house in Barossa Place 
for a less expensive one in a row then building in Mar- 
shall Place, and Peggy proposed to undertake the nur- 
sery work alone, only intrusting the children to the 
housemaid — a kind, accommodating woman-— on the 
Friday forenoons. It came the weekly treat to 
disappear with Jane among the daisies, the buttercups, 
and the clover of the South Inch, just as we had done 
the years before on the beautiful North. Set a-search- 
ing for a four-leaved clover, strained eyes and tired 
fingeis were then ready for a game at " Frdnch and 
English" with the '' Carl Doddies" Jane had gathered. 
Sides taken, the heads of either enemy were knocked 
off. For luncheon a penny each had been served round 
in the morning; thus there was a trip along the streets 
to the baker's, and a roll and gingerbread — ^not the 
square parliament-cake found everywhere, but a cake 
with six round portions joined, which Perth still sup- 
plies. On these Inches rich and poor had a boundless 
playground. The lowing of the cattle on the first 




days after their winter imprisonment, and the varied 
hourly ringing of the tuneful bells of St John's, must 
linger in the ears of citizens scattered all round the 
world. To every colony Perth has paid out her large 
proportional tribute of the boys and girls from her great 

This kind helper, Jane, the friend of Peggy and the 
children, left the family only to be married. The inti- 
macy continued, so that Peggy assisted her in sending 
her only son to the university, and he is now a medical 

Each lesson was either prepared for school by the 
children with their mother's help, or repeated to her 
when learned. By her bedside, when it was scarcely 
light, or by candle-light at an early winter hour, the 
more difficult parts of the lessons were again repeated 
by the little boys just before starting for school. When 
the Latin rudiments were begun, this still continued. 
Her little girl went to private classes and early began 
French, Italian, and German. For some years at this 
time their mother did not even dine out, except at her 
fiither's house ; she was never off work, almost never ill, 
never from home. As a reward for diligence she read 
aloud in the evenings Gillies' "Greece," and popular 
histories of Rome, France, and England, skipping what 
she did not intend them to hear, and willingly stopping 
to answer quiet questions or make it plainer by her own 
version. The little boys sat at the table with her, 
drawing, often in grotesque fashion ; the girl sat next 
her working a sampler, with an old minute Gask one, 



106 peogy's nukseky. 

bearing the initials of the children of the school-room 
there, for a pattern. 

She always stopped at nine to read God's word with 
us. She did not put away our reading or play just at 
that moment, for this does not lead children to love the 
evening reading. She read early, and then we might 
begin again till each would drop oflf to bed. 

The fourth boy, Hugh, was bom on 28th July, 1830. 
When the mother was indisposed, the little boys went on 
tiptoe not only when passing the door but long after they 
were out of her hearing. They went to see a menagerie 
just then, where Frederick called out to the cockatoo, 
" Be quiet, thing, don't you know mamma's asleep ? '* 

Intending to be away for the day at Gask, when her 
little girl of eight should be left to herself, Mrs. Sande- 
man bought a pretty little copy of the "Pilgrim's 
Progress," which the child had not before seen. She 
set her to read it in a comer of the garden, and found 
her in the same place in the evening, with the little 
red square book. Christian and Christiana having both 
been followed to the gate of the Celestial City. 





THREE years of unclouded prosperity had been 
enjoyed by the circle at Springland, when a dark 
shadow fell upon them. Margaret and her 
husband were staying there in November, 1822 ; he was 
about to take his eldest sister Anna to the Perth 
Assembly. Before he could reach the carriage the horse 
started, the driver fell, and the young lady was carried 
along at full speed alone. When the horse was 
approaching the toll-bar, half-way to Perth, fearing a 
collision she resolved to get out. Gathering her ball 
dress round her, she sprang out, and reached the road 
apparently safe, but afterwards fell with her head on a 
stone. The horse and carriage reached the stables in 
safety. She walked home with her brother, and said 
she was not hurt ; but while she spoke blood began 
to trickle down on her white dress. A year after, 
10th November, she died, at the age of twenty-three, of 
effusion of blood on the brain, and the physicians attri- 
buted the fatal issue to this cause. 

Three years later Mrs. Glas Sandeman took the liveliest 

interest in the marriage of her sister-in-law and the 


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earliest friend of her life, Margaret Sandeman, to 
William Fraser, younger of Culbokie, 25th July, 1826. 
But the second sister, Jane, returned from the festivities 
in Inverness-shire with a bad cold. Her illness and 
death was to become the occasion of the deepest sorrow; 
though the dark valley was brightened to herself, as to 
the sister who went before, by simple faith. 

At this period some deaths occurred among Mar- 
garet's relations on her own side. In the end of 
1828, the death of Charles Steuart, Dalguisc, of yellow 
fever, at Gibraltar, where the 42nd Begiment was then 
stationed, caused deep grief to his cousin and all her 
family. Lady Naime wrote to her regarding it as 
follows from Caroline Cottage, Edinburgh : — 

" ^d January, 1829.~Many happy years to you and yours, my 
dear Margaret. I hope you are now all well, iQcluding the 
Doctor. We have not had a merry time durmg the holidays, but 
I hope it has been profitable. Few events have been so much felt 
by ^very one of this little circle as our last loss. How greatly 
beloved darling Charles was I think we hardly knew ; his kind, 
sweet, lively temper, added to a fine mind and excellent talents, 
furnish incessant recollections — I dare not add, regrets; but 
nature will in some degree prevail, and I need not tell you about 
him. I have asked, dearest afflicted Margaret Hairiet to give me 
a copy of the verses you wrote upon her brother's death ; they 
express very naturally what mTist he felt, and some of us may per- 
haps live to be thankful for what at this moment seems severe. 
For all is love/ if we do but take events as from a Father's hand, 
the blessing is sure. The firm trust that, amidst many tempta- 
tions, our beloved Charles held by his Christian principles, and 
was enabled by Divine grace to commit his soul to his Saviour, 
not only in words, but in deed and in truth, is heartfelt consola- 
tion to all who loved him, — and they were not a few. I did not 
think it worth while to write on purpose to discuss the view of 




Bonakeid yon mention. I have not painted at all for a consid- 
erable time." 

This loss was followed by the death of her cousin, 
Captain Gilbert Stewart, Fincastle. He had been one 
of the most severely wounded of the officers in Spain 
during the Peninsular War, and bore the unsightly 
scars to the last Mrs. Sandeman wrote the following 
lines for his widow at the funeral He was laid in the 
Fincastle family burying-ground near Loch Tummel. 

" Wake, wake ye the coronach, mournfully sound it, 
Oh ! swift be it borne by the echoes afar, 
For he over whom its sad dirge has resounded. 
Was foremost in danger and bravest in war. 

^ Now, now, is it swelling o'er moorland and mountain ; 
Aye, wake it yet louder, for these are the strains 
That bade him the foes of his country encounter. 
And shed his best blood on Castilia's plains. 

*' And gather, ye clansmen, to him ye were dearest, 
True spirits like his beating high in your breast; 
And now in his last hour should ye be the nearest 
To bear him away to the place of his rest. 

^' Te fought by his side in the land of the stranger. 
And meet is it now that your tartans should wave 
Where, far from the scene of his trial and danger, 
'Mid his own native mountains we hollow his graro. 

*^ Now hush these wild notes to the music of sadness ; 
Fair lake, on thy waves let its last cadence swell ; 
While, sorrow's tears mingling with hope's tears of gladness 
We bid thee a long not an endless farewell. 

" 1830;' 


by Google^ 


From the time Dr. Stewart came to Perth prosperity 
had largely attended him. His lands had been dis- 
encumbered for him while he was with his regiment in 
Holland, by the exertions of his cousin, Mr. Stewart of 
Balnakilly, — the creditors on the estate had each given 
up a year's interest His house had been built and 
furnished for him by Sir James Pulteney and Lady 
BatL The planting had been done by them under his 
direction, the property improved, and the grounds laid 
out without any expense to him. At various periods he 
had originated, by imbuing others with his enthusiasm 
for athletic sports, the Athole Gathering, the Dunkeld 
Games, and the Highland Society of Perth. He had 
bought Lick, Duntaulich, and the south side of Farragon. 
He was beloved as a landlord, and had become trustee 
and guardian to many, never sparing himself in the 
discharge of the manifold duties. In the long minority 
of his young neighbour, Archibald Butter of Faskally, 
he did not miss one meeting of guardians, riding up 
the thirty miles and back without a thought, looking 
in on patients on the way north and south. While the 
new house of Faskally was being built when Mr. Butter 
came of age, he lent him Bonskeid. 

But, unhappily, he scarcely knew how to refiise to sign 
a bill when pressed hard by a Mend. He was at last 
inextricably involved in the affairs of his brother-in-law, 
Captain James Stewart, Fincastle. These troubles 
ended in his own property being put under trust His 
son-in-law having persuaded him to allow Mr. Morri- 
son, accountant, Perth, to act for him, engaged to pay 





his debts, on condition that his landed property should 
be handed over to his wife and him. A few sentences 
suffice to tell this ; but there were years of anxiety 
and difficulty to pass through. As soon as Mr. Sande- 
man saw what was before him, he took every step 
within his power to prepare to give him assistance, 
and to save the ancient part of the property for his 
wife. Her strong attachment to it is shown in the lines 
she wrote when she thought it was to be sold, and went 
to see it for the last time : — 

Beloved of my fathers through ages long past. 
And oh, how beloved of their child to the last ! 
When chilling and cold on my bosom there fell 
A summons to bid thee an endless farewell, 
Then failed the last hope, that still vainly had strove 
To ding to the land of my earliest love. 

Yet I roused me and looked on the i^s gone by, 
And lo ! through the space o'er which memory flew, 

A long line of ancestry greeted mine eye, 
ALl ending at last, my father, in you. 

From the days of that Robert, the first of our race, 
Through years of invasion and conflict and change, 

I saw them unstained by contempt or disgrace 
Through their own lovely lands in security range. 

My boy, I had hoped the white plume on thy brow 
Would shine e'en more bright than thy fathers of yore ; 

But alas ! for thy mother, my darling, e'en now, 
In sadly believing, her hope is no more. 

Yet the oak of the forest, the pride of the wild. 
Must bend to His thunder, by Whom it is riven ; 

And the Qod of all Providence, grant thee, my child, 
A changeless inheritance glorious in heaven. 




Thou valley of loveliness ! * proud mountain brow ! t 
Nor prouder nor lovelier ever than now ; 
(Though the light fleecy clouds have your siunmit o'ercast 
In mercy to shroud from my gaze — *tis the last) 
Soft mists o'er the valley too, silently tell 
Ye would spare me the anguish of such a farewell. 
And bright recollections of hundreds of years 
Have dissolved even Nature herself into tears, 
While she views the sad heiress of mountain and dell 
In agony bid them an endless farewell. 

Yet hear roaring waterfall, precipice wild ! 

Oh, hear ye the vow of your desolate child ; 

The son from his sire may be destined to sever 

And lost to his bosom for ever and ever ; 

But needs it for this that his sire must remove 

From the depths of his fondness, the strength of his love ? 

Nay ! sympathies bind him, none other can know, 

As near to that heart as its ebb and its flow. 

And first must the stream from its fountain retire, 

Ere he cease to remember and honour his sire ; 

And such be my love, such it ever shall be, 

My own fairy land, my own valley for thee. 

And now, lovely spot, now the sunbeam has shined, 
And I see by its light all thy beauties combined. 
Lake, valley, and mountain, my sad vision meet. 
With a smile my heart owns, but too fair and too sweet, 
And I turn from them weeping for ever away, 
Like our fathers from Paradise sentenced to stray. 

But their image remains, 'tis engraven as fair 

On memory's page, as if still it were there. 

And there it shall rest till that solemn day. 

When even these beauties shall vanish away. 

And a new heaven and earth unto these shall be given, 

Who are heirs of a heritage fadeless in heaven. 

• The Vale of Tumtnel. • t The Giant's Steps. 

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The arrangements for winding up the Bonskeid trust 
were very tedious. They were prolonged by the impossi- 
bility of findmg a purchaser for the whole of the Fin- 
castle estates. After three years the Court of Session 
authorised its division into lots. Mr. Sandeman had to 
buy the lot which Mr. Colquhoun could not take — the 
lower part of the glen of Fincastle, and along with it the 
right to two days' fishing in each week at Linn of 
Tummel ; Bonskeid had before possessed the other four 
days. The end to be attained was worth labouring for, 
and nothing was grudged in the pursuit 

Towards the close of these negotiations Asiatic cholera 
appeared at PertL At first, as usually happens, its 
ravages were confined to the poor and the intemperate. 
But one morning Adele Gilmour, the children's play- 
mate, who had been out playing in the morning, was 
seized by it and buried at nightfall The following 
night Mrs. Sandeman's little girl of ten sickened ; 
but before the doctor arrived every measure had been 
taken ; for Mr. Sandeman and Mr. Morison being seated 
at midnight with a good fire, studying the Fincastle 
papers, both hurried up and at once applied hot foment- 
ations. The doctors thought this circumstance led to 
the saving of the child's life. 

Mrs. Sandeman's joy and thankfulness when all was 
settled regarding Bonskeid were thus expressed : — 

* Imagination wherefore fly ? 
See ! thy resting-place is nigh I 
See these cool, inviting groves, 
Shaded footpaths, cooing doves ! ' 


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— ' Yes, bright and beautiful these trees expand. 
Fair the extensive prospect they command ; 
And o'er the trellis of this green arcade, 
India's exotics skilfully displayed ; 
But yet though beautiful, they are not dear. 
Home of my heart, I cry, — Not here, not here.' 

* Haste thee, haste, the warder waits ! 
For thee ope the palace gates ! 

Lo, where lordly pomp can boast 
All the world can value most, 
Rest, nor farther wing thy way. 
Stay thee, pretty trifler, stay.' 

— ' Proudly waving o'er my head 
Fame's armorial banners spread, 
Burnished gold, and diamonds rare 
Dazzle with their gaudy glare ; 
Mid their radiance bright, but drear, 
Still I cry, — Not here, not here.' 

* Go, then, little fitful thing, 

Lo ! I free thy quivering wing, 

Wander where thou wilt for me, 

Who have offered all to thee. 

Away ! away ! with the glancing beam 

Or illusion light of some happy dream. 

That ere we could well believe it given 

Has fled to the place whence it came, to heaven ! 

With Hope, her rainbow, around thee flinging. 

And voices of seraphs about thee singing. 

Away from the lowlands, away to the glen 

Thou art gone, thou fair vision, and lost to our ken. 

But I hear in the distance a wild thrilling ciy 

As of joy in her utmost agony. 

And I see thy form from yon hills descending 

To a lovely vale where streams are blending. 

And I see the roe-deer bounding fleet 

To lay himself panting down at thy feet. 



BONSKEin. 115 

I hear the eagle's piercing cry. 
And the timid dove's soft tones reply, 
And the voice of the distant waterfall, 
And thy song of joy above them all.' 

— * Ask ye where lies the land of bliss ? 
In the pride of my heart I answer, " This.*' 
Hie if ye will to your southern homes, 
Your flowery glades and your jewelled domes, 
Leave me, leave me in bliss to roam 
'Mid the scenery wild of my Highland home ; 
And when joy grows too intense, 111 rest 
On the heathy side of yon mountain breast. 
And silently weep o'er the spot so dear, 
And silently whisper, — ^'Tis here, 'tis here.' 

A far greater gift than the security of her earthly 
inheritance was to be bestowed upon her from above. 
It followed an illness which she had in the spring of 
1832. Perhaps the loss of friends and the long period 
of anxiety, prepared the way for the great change. 
Let us read her narrative, written June, 1865, for the 
account of her recovery from this illness, and for the 
retrospect of her soul's history in these twelve years 
from her leaving school : — 

** I came home in 1820," she writes, ** and what of my soul 1 
When Jesus, the beloved Jesus, the Substitute, has not yet been 
apprehended for the sinner's own, ah ! what abundant room is 
left for everything else ; and so it was with me. An earthly 
attachment long felt gained strength, and suffice it to say that in 
a few months it was carried into effect. I had knelt down to ask 
direction, for I knew I should only marry a Christian ; but had 
risen without obtaining, or rather was unwilling to listen when 




it came. Then followed the usual history of a soul that had so 
placed itself. For that object I gave up all that was dearest ; and 
besides, beUeved I was renouncing all prospects as to this world. 
And most heartily I did it. But, my Saviour ! I knew Thee not 
as mine. Who shall say how I delayed the revelation ? Fond- 
ness, refined affection, love from the family which my husband had 
already made my heart's chosen home— for many a year these 
were all mine. But when my children were able to be told of the 
truth of Qod I felt great anxiety. I was like Mrs. Graham, of 
New York (a memoir much read at that time), 'never forgetting 
the concern of the soul, yet struggling to act out a fedth that should 
save, and could not.' Once when Mr. Thomson, of Moneydie, 
preached that it was not to the faith, but to its object I must look, 
there came a gleam of light. The death of Anna and Jane, 
beloved sisters of my husband, and as much of mine, came, but I 
groped on. I wondered how Miss Smith had said, the Spirit 
must teach me. How could He now when the Canon was 
closed ? In 1832, when Margaret was nine and I was twenty- 
nine, I had a severe fever of influenza, and was long confined to 
my room. Prayer was urgent ; the world was shut out ; I was 
not happy. How could I be? I was convalescent; I had 
dressed in a shot silk pink and blue, my favourite colour, 
like the dove's neck, gayer than I would have chosen after- 
wards, to take my first walk with my husband, on a sunny 
day in May. Dearest Miss M. Sandeman* had sent books for 

* This lady was Mr. Glas Sandeman's cousin, and afterwards widely 
known in Edinburgh as having resided for many years in the family of 
the Rev. John Duncan, D.D., Professor of Hebrew. Mrs. Sandeman's 
journal, contains a notice of the work regularly done by Miss Sande- 
man while resident in Perth : "It shows by its variety what one 

woman can do. She has a letter from Mr. , New York, attributing 

his first impressions to her class. She still conducts a young conmiuni- 
cant's class weekly, where forty or more are often assembled. She has 
a class for boys of a higher order once a-week, a class for young 
ladies, a class for serrants/and a similar one early in the morning. 
She visits a large district, the Jail, the House of Befuge, the School of 
Industry, and the Infant School. She has a meeting for ladies on 
Fridays, and one not confined to the congregation on Saturdays. Be- 




AHck as well as his sister to read ; and among them, with 
*The Holy War,* was a little pamphlet, in brown paper, 
lettered outside, 'The Fountain of Life.' To the best of 
my memory I hare never seen it since. I sat down at the 
head of the table to read it, as I waited for my husband. It 
was a little spiritual allegory, but began by describing a fountain 
to heal all diseases. An old man, one of the otherwise incurable, 
was standing arguing on the brink, that he could not get in. 
Said one standing by, *Will you not let the waves flow over youl* 
When my eyes fell on the words, it was done. Salvation flowed 
into my souL Heaven on earth was begun. I have never, by the 
glorious grace of my living Saviour, had a doubt since. Once for 
a few minutes, twenty years after, Satan threw a dart into my 
heart at my Beloved's eternal sonship, but one word of God 
dispelled it, and He saved from that first hour, and He has 
undertaken all, and He stands in my place before God. I stand 
accepted in the Beloved ; He has brought my children to Him- 
self, and those made one with them. 

'' I believe in, and now am claiming and getting, the promise 
of righteousness upon children's children. Three of these are 
already with Jesus, along with my three noble sons and my two 
infants. Since I became a widow, Jesus has been to me what no 
tongue can tell or heart understand but mine alone. 

"The occasion of my writing this record is my having set 
apart this Sabbath day to remember that my youngest son 
and his wife are to-day taking to Thy house their third little one, 
my name-daughter. Lord, for this youngest and weakest I claim 

what I have seen given to 's children, and many of the others ; 

and what I ask for all is the fulfilment of my sainted mother's 
prayers in the salvation of every one who belongs to her child." 
11 George Square, 

Edinburgh, June, 1865. 

sides, she visits those distressed in soul, writes many letters, is ever 
ready to give advice, and, above all, gets near access to the Lord on His 
Throne of Grace. The Lord be with her, make BGs face to shine upon 
her, and through her labours revive His work in Perth." 





IN order to receive Dr. Stewart into their house, 
which his state of health now made desirable, 
Mr. and Mrs. Olas Sandeman moved to Athole 
Crescent, where he could have apartments on the ground 
floor. But before he occupied them their seventh 
child, the infant Anna, had entered and left the 
dwelling after a month's short sojourn. This was a 
peculiarly bitter trial, as the infant caught erysipelas 
from the monthly nurse, who was not known to have 
had it Her baptism, the day before she was taken, 
was a most solemn event in the family, and touched her 
grandfather deeply. The younger doctors had hoped for 
recovery, but the old man shook his^ head hopelessly 
at the first glance of the grave symptoms. When her 
little brother Frederick heard the name was to be 
Anna, he said, " Why not Christiana ? *' 

The little boys asked why they might not sleep as 
usual in the room that night with their marble white 
sister. Their mother gave the same impression to her 
children regarding death which she had received from 

her mother, who wished her husband's motto had been, 

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"Victory in death," instead of "Victory or death," 
She made them feel that after coming to Christ there 
is no such thing to meet as death in the believer's 
path. The dreaded beast of prey stands yonder, but ha 
has been slain by Christ, the Conqueror. The awful 
figure may cast a shadow across the road, or may not ; 
but at the most God's child only steps upon a shadow 
cast on a safe pathway. Death has been disposed of in 
reality, and sleep has come in his room. 

When the children required during such an illness as 
that of their sister to be sent from home, there was one 
country-house where they could always arrive unasked 
to pay a visit. This was Logiealmond, nine miles 
distant from FertL Three sisters, the Misses Drum* 
mond^ resided there, the fourth having married Sir 
George Stewart of GrandtuUy. These ladies never 
allowed Mrs. Sandeman to feel that she had lost a 
mother. Their housekeeper too, Mrs. Gilchrist, made 
her room most charming to children. To reach that 
room they must pass along a sunk stone corridor, which 
never lost the scent of peat and wood-embers, sometimes 
varied by a slight flavour of toasted oat-cake, or a whiflF 
of roasted potatoes, and, when it was reached, all deli- 
cious things were found in the good woman's cupboards. 

From early childhood Margaret Stewart yearly so- 
journed there. She called it her second home. " Tender 
care," she writes, " was lavished on me, there was but 
one drawback to enjoyment. The long summer 
Sabbaths had to be spent in the chamber, or in the 
lovely woods, all scented with hyacinth, orchid, primrose. 




violet, and other wild flowers. No church bell broke 
the silence. While others walked far to find a place of 
worship, I remained; for, as a child, I could not 
accompany them. Time wore on ; my little daughter 
had taken my place under the friendly roof, but she had 
not the same weekly deprivation. The old family 
chapel, around which lie the ashes of their dead, has 
put on its Sabbath garb as of old, for the use of the 
dependents, and now a faithful man of Qod proclaims 
' the fiilness that is in Christ,' and people wend their 
way through the woods from the mansion and from the 
cottages around." 

All felt the influence of the Rev. John Omond. 
The eldest sister never left the house on foot at any 
time farther than the door-step, where she met and 
parted with her guests. The second, who in earlier 
days had declared that she would rather be a Roman 
Catholic than a Presbyterian, appeared one Lord's 
day in the great pew, to the unbounded joy of the 
worshippers, and never was missing again. The third 
died peacefully, resting by faith on her Saviour. The 
eldest left her confession of faith, unbreathed in 
human ear, to be discovered only by accident. It was 
long after her decease that a relative, who at her death 
came into possession of an Italian box, presented to 
her brother. Sir William Drummond, when envoy at 
Naples, found under the golden lid set with lapis lazuli, 
malachite, and bloodstone, a small slip of paper con- 
taining the words, "I have to thank God for having 
found peace in Jesus, my Saviour." Thus did all the 




sisters ascend to rejoin their mother, the circumstances 
of whose death had thrown for years after its occurrence 
a terrible shadow over the house at Logieahnond. 
Lady Naime, then Miss Oliphant, described it thus in 

<<LoaiEALMOKD, FHday, Zrd June. — On Wednesday night at 
Qask I stood speecliless till I should know what agitated Laurence, 
Margaret, and Charles so violently ; at last learnt that Lady 
Catherine Drummond was dead, and came upstairs in great 
affliction, but till next morning did not learn the dreadful truth 
that on Tuesday evening she had walked too near where weeds 
were burning, her clothes took fire, and she was burnt so much 
that she died next day/ 

Mrs. Qlas Sandeman was as much interested in 
Dr. Duff's return to Scotland, as she had been in his 
going from the braes of Moulin fifteen years before, 
to St. Andrews University, at the instance of her 
relative, Mr. Stewart of Balnakilly, near whose resi- 
dence Alexander Duff had been brought up. 

In the spring of 1835, those who sat at the Com- 
munion in Lady Glenorchy's Church, Edinburgh, were 
astonished at the appearance of a stranger conducting 
the service. He was so emaciated and exhausted that 
it almost seemed as if he might have passed away with 
the broken bread in his hand. It was Dr. Duff, who 
had just returned from India. He rested during the 
summer with his family at Edradour, at the foot of 
Ben-y-Vrackie. Dr. Duff visited Perth to address the 
Presbytery there on the Indian mission. 

Mrs. Glas Sandeman and her children watched the 
arrival of the missionary, still an invalid from over- 




work, at the door of the Rev. Dr. William Thomson, 
a few doors from their own. They all heard him 
preach on the Sabbath morning. The steep galleries 
of the old Middle Church were crowded, and even 
the seats behind the great pillars were filled. The 
text was, "Be not conformed to this world." The 
preacher cut right and left, root and branch, at the 
worldliness in the Church of Christ. He described how 
men and women carried it into God's house, and could 
be seen stepping down the aisle, with a look so proud 
that an archangel would blush to see it. The schools 
gave an aftemoon|^holiday for his address on missions, 
as the little city had been moved throughout at his 
coming. * 

Mr. Esdaile, the erudite minister of the East Church, 
followed by the Presbytery, accompaniedhim to the pulpit 
steps. The gaunt figure in the pulpit, soon rid of the 
gown, was seen beneath the coloured window, which 
had become a permanent picture-book for the little 
people when wearied by the scholarly discourses of Mr. 
Esdaile. Buton this day the eloquent descriptions of the 
far-off land seized on their sometimes wandering atten- 
tion. Snow peaks, dense forests, aromatic gardens, and 
the Ganges' waters were the background. The idolatry 
of India was pictured in the most graphic manner. 
Each arrow-like sentence of appeal for help was barbed 
with reproach to the selfish Britons who had come home 
rich without doing anything to enlighten the natives of 
poor, pillaged, ravaged, unhappy India. 

Next day at school a penny a-week subscription 




began among the children. The mother took up her 
pen and wrote : — 

He crossed o'er our path, like an angel of light, 
The swoid of the truth in his grasp, gleaming bright ; 
O'er mountain and valley unwearied he flew, 
Imploring our aid for the poor lost Hindoo. 

The rich gorgeous East, with its dark Indian grove. 
Was the land that he pled for — all pity and love ; 
But we caught the swift glance and the dear mountain tone, 
And claimed him with reverence and pride for our own. 

Yes ! dark Ben-y-Vrackie, all rugged and wild, 
And fair vale of Athole, ye welcome your child ; 
For oft have his thoughts turned in fondness to you, 
While he toUed for the soul of the darkened Hindoo. 

And shall we not aid him with heart and with hand, 
To ope fountains of truth in that desolate land ? 
Nor break the witched charm that he over us threw, 
While in anguish he pled for the erring Hindoo. 

Some years previous a similar crowd, including the 
above-named listeners, had gathered in the East Church 
to hear Edward Irving, then at the height of his popu- 
larity. He was preaching on the coming of Christ. The 
afternoon was lowering, and a thunder-storm was about to 
burst over the town. And as the preacher was reading 
the words, " As the lightning cometh out of the east, 
and shineth even unto the west, so shall also the 
coming of the Son of Man be ; " he was suddenly inter- 
rupted by an almost simultaneous flash and peal. 

Dr. Stewart's last years were peaceful. His daughter 
seldom left him but in the evening, when his grand- 




children read to him or played draughts. Daily^ 
attended by his servant, he walked round the North 
Inch, and on Sundays to the East Church, where he 
became a member. Mr. Charles Stewart, afterwards of 
Kirkmichael, then of the Gaelic Church, Perth, came 
to dine every Sabbath evening, and after dinner in- 
structed the young people in presence of their grand- 
father — ^he a listener in his arm-chair by the fire, and 
they the pupils gathered at the table. During the 
last week of his life, when paralysis prevented his eat- 
ing, he still kept his seat at table, helping the children 
to what he knew they liked best Weakness, increas- 
ing rapidly, confined him one day to bed, but even then 
he sent for his granddaughter, and asking her why she 
was not practising her music as usual, bade her go to 
the piano. He died on the 6th September, 1835, and 
the funeral procession again took the old road to 

In May, 1835, Mr. David George Sandeman of Spring- 
land, had been called away at his Edinburgh residence. 
His wife, who had long resided at Pau in charge 
of her delicate and widowed daughter, Mrs. Eraser of 
Culbokie, set out for Scotland with her son. Captain 
Sandeman, on hearing of her husband's death. At 
Bordeaux she was taken from the carriage to rest in 
the hotel, where she suddenly expired, and only the 
embalmed remains came to her husband's grave. The 
same year Mr. and Mrs. Stewart Sandeman, who 
at her father's death took the family name, made 
Springland their home. 





'A '.; (• 

J. v.. 

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On the first evening they spent there the blended 
feeling of past and present was thus expressed : — 

Two Roses. 
'Twas on a dazzling snininer^s mom 

You plucked that rose and gave it me ; 
1 pressed it close, and felt no thorn 
In that sweet hour of youthful glee. 

Three lovely sisters gathered round — 
My sisters they were soon to be, — 

And how did every bosom bound 
With joy, and hope, and harmony ! 

Again, this dewy summer's even, 
A rosebud from that self-same tree 

By my loved husband's hand is given — 
Which rose is dearer, love, to me ? 

The sisters, — two are laid to rest. 
And one is exiled from her home ; 

The parents, — ah ! that heaving breast 
Tells who has newly closed their tomb. 

The hour to-night is one of woe, 
And falling tears this bud bedew ; 

But sweeter does its fellow blow, 
And fonder beats my heart for you 

Than on yon dazzling summer's mom, 
When that first rose you gave to me. 
. I press it close, I feel no thorn. 
This hour of calm solemnity. 

In May, 1836, Mrs. Stewart Sandeman first occupied 
Bonskeid with the feeling that it was now all their 
own. Delicacy towards Dr. Stewart had prevented his 
son-in-law from beginning meditated improvements 




there while he lived The family enjoyed during that 
summer frequent intercourse with Mrs. Keith and Miss 
Steuart, who were to spend the winter with Lady 
Naime and her son on the Continent. Some years after 
leaving Bavelston/Mrs. Keith had added to the cottage 
at Steuartfield of Dalguise, built on a very elevated 
situation. She carried out to the letter and to the last 
the injunctions of the old epistle from her father to his 
four little girls at Oask. There still remains a rug 
which her diligent hands worked in imitation of pile- 
carpet ; it was knitted during the time between the 
sounding of the gong to dress for dinner and the time 
when dinner was announced. Its progress was not 
more perceptible to the little onlookers than that of 
Penelope's web ; but the stripes for it were finished at 
last, the border completed, and the children taught the 
value of odd minutes ; she kept a large, round, China- 
silk bag in the chiffonier, full of remnants of Berlin 
wool for her rug. The children might take from it 
what they pleased. The first pieces of their work were 
done at her side. Her eyesight was not dimmed by 
cataract till she had provided a series of manuscript 
books sewed into black linen covers, with all the words 
of our Dord in the Gospels copied in a large hand. The 
half-text of the children appeared in some of these. 
Diminutive pocket-books covered with silk contained 
the first words or the first lines of all the hymns she 
could repeat, aiding her ready memory to retain a very 
large number. She had watched over her niece's 
welfare since the deplored death of her mother in the 





year of her own widowhood, 1819. But she could now 
see that in her case a mother remembered may be 
almost as potent an influence as a mother possessed. 
On a visit to Bonskeid, she wrote : — 

" llih JTttne.— Glas and Margaret are so very kind ; slie 
manages her house and children well, and is bringing them up to 
help her in everything. May parents, brothers, and sister, all be 

From photo, hy WiUon, Abordoen. 

" 16e^.— BoEENiCH, Loch Tummel-side.— I have had a long 
walk and drive with my niece, and desire to be most thankful 
for the delightful feeling of robust health so graciously bestowed 

here. I write in the open carriage, while M and her daughter 

go to visit a tenant's wife on this part of the property. 




In this farm-house at Borenich^ on Loch Tummel- 
side, Rev. John Fraser, afterwards minister at Lowick, 
Northumberland, had spent his youth ; as tutor at the 
Perth Grammar School, he directed the education of 
Mrs. Sandeman's elder boys, and was an intimate fiiend 
of the fiwnily. 

In October, 1836, their son Charles was bom; in 
1838 their youngest, Frank ; and in 1837 their daughter 
went to Brussels to Mrs. Keith of Dunnottar, and 
Miss Steuart, Dalguise, who waited there to be near 
Lady Naime and her only son dying of consumption 
at the age of twenty-nine. 

The plans which Mrs. Stewart Sandeman had formed 
for the home-education of her daughter having failed, she 
had decided to send her to school. Without confiding her 
own thoughts to any one but her husband, she went to 
Edinburgh and visited several schools, calling on Mrs. 
Alexander Keith to learn the most recent accounts of the 
party at Brussels. Mrs. Keith, who was just writing to 
them, happened to mention the search for a school, and 
within a week Maggy's grand-aunt, and for the next 
two years, second mother, wrote for her to join them. 
These incidents are told to keep in sight that chain of 
Providence which, seen or unseen, winds all the way in 
the path of those who seek God's guidance, and act 
consistently with their constant prayer for it. 

When Mr. Sandeman and his daughter drove up to 
the door of Mrs. Keith's house in Brussels, the servant 
in mourning showed that all was over. Through miss- 
ing a steamer they had been detained, and Lord Naime's 
funeral was already at the cemetery. 




The physician at Brussels advised that as far as 
possible the bitterly bereaved Lady Naime should have 
some one with her — and especially in her carriage on 
her journeys — who did not remind her of her son, so 
Maggy was often her companion. 

Two letters from Lady Naime, the one written 
after her daughter s arrival, the other two years later, 
are here given : — 

" Brussels, December, 1837. — Though writing, even to friends, 
is no longer, as formerly, one of my occupations, I cannot resist 
the temptation now offered of thanking yon for your kind letter, 
and sympathy with me under the heavy affliction which it pleased 
our Heavenly Father to send me. No one but myself can know 
what 1 have lost in my darling companion of almost thirty yeais, 
as none besides could witness his never-ceasing tenderness and 
confidence. WhUst 1 had him, the thought that it was a thing 
possible that I might lose him, though high in health and spirits — 
the very thought would at times embitter to me our delightful 
intercourse. This, 1 know now, arose from excess of attachment, 
and surely I have much — ^much reason to give thanks for the 
grace that enabled me to resign him at last with the full convic- 
tion that all was well for him and for me. You are the first to 
whom I have written of my inmost feehngs, as I really have not 
strength of mind or body for much." 

"Nice, 9^^ November, 1839. — I do indeed now very rarely 
write to any one ; but I must, with my own hand and heart, 
thank you my long-loved Margaret, for your kind and satisfactory 
letter. ... I am much weakened in mind and body since I saw 
you last, and how can -it be otherwise ? Age and sorrow will 
tell, yet I am here a monument of mercy and tender dealing. 
Surely loving-kindness and mercy have followed me all the days 
of my life, and I know will follow me to the end. Though I am 
sensible that both the outward frame and faculties are subject to 
decay, I humbly trust that through grace the inward man is 
renewed day by day. . . . The Holy Spirit is promised to all who 





believe our Lord's promises, and believingly pray for their fulfil- 
ment • • . I have often in other days felt a chill of apprehension 
when I read the words, ' He that loveth son or daughter more 
than Me is not worthy of Me.' You are aware of the danger. 
May you be kept from idolising any created good ! My mother, 
when she had six thriving infants, resigned them every night into 
our Saviour's hands ; she learned much by the death of her first 
lovely boy at a year old, and was six years without a child. Then 
your motiier eame to be her comfort ... Do you know a small 
pamphlet, * The Sinner's Friend ' ] When people are convinced 
of sin, it is quite a cordial. To the unawakened, nothing is good. 
Praying for them is the only hope — ^though appropriate tracts 
have been blessed, perhaps in answer to prayer. Adieu, dearest 
M. May you and I, with all we love, meet in due time to part 
no more, and in the meantime may you be enabled to fulfil your 

The following letter came from her sister-in-law, Mrs. 

Fraser, written a few days before her death: — 

« Rome, 4th March, 183a 
«Mt Dear Margaret, — ^I cannot leave this world without 
saying farewell to you, my first, dear, and earliest friend. Often 
do I think of our early days, and tell dear Glas that, in all my 
absence and illness, I have ever loved and fondly thought of you 
and him. I know how dearly you both love me, and that that 
affection you will now transfer to my children. Do not grieve 
for my loss ; I trusty through God's mercy, that I am going to 
heaven. What a blessed change will this be, from pain and 
suffering here ! I send you no little remembrance, as I have 
desired in my will a sum of money to be given to each of my 
brothers, to be laid out in some souvenir of their last sister. 
" God Almighty bless you all. — Your affectionate sister, 

"Margaret C. Fraser." 

Her Journal contains the following : — 

" May, 1838.— Pleasant to be left alone to-day to think over 
my prospects for eternity. I desire that my Saviour should be 
ail my joy ;— yet often I cannot believe in Him at all. Could I 




choose, I am sure I could part with everything that interferes 
with my whole heart being His. May the glory of God be 
revealed to my soul, His holiness, His Majesty. May all these 
low thoughts of Him, and that evil heart of unbelief which fights 
against my being happy in Him alone, be put down by His power. 
Even after having been made one with Jesus, how quickly would 
the world usurp its lost dominion ! May the scales never turn 
again with me as to the real values of things, but may I this 
week have direction in each step I take for myself or my children. 
Then shall He receive me into His presence with exceeding joy ; 
then shall the entrance be an abundant one for them and me. 
May I pray perseveringly by His grace for all dear friends. 
Truly I am always happiest alone with my Qod,^ 

No trouble was spared in procuring books interesting 
for Sunday reading for the children. WhileMrs. Sande- 
man lived in Perth, she went on Saturdays to get some- 
thing fresh and true from the Religious Tract Society's 
room at the bookseller's, and brought down next morning 
the attractive brief memoir for the day ; at Springland 
she kept a small store by her and sent the children to 
learn the hjrmn and Shorter Catechism in the garden. 
She urged such as employed the English Church 
catechism to be very clear in their teaching of it to the 
young ; she retained always a vivid sense of the decep- 
tion, in spite of her mother's training, under which she 
had remained for fifteen years, through having been 
taught to say: "My baptism wherein I was made a 
member of Christ, the child of God, and an inheritor 
of the kingdom of heaven." She was decided in her 
prohibition of novel-reading till her children were 
seventeen ; they were then promised the use of their 
own discretion. The choice of good stories for children 
fifty years ago, was limited ; all the more prized were — 




" The Robins," " Robinson Crusoe," " Rasselas, Prince of 
Abyssinia," "Sandford and Merton," "Henry Milner," 
"Father Clement," "Miss Placid and her Daughter 
Rachael," " The Tales of the Covenanters," and Scott's 
Poems. When seventeen came and the young people 
were free to read fiction, some of them had not the wish 
to begin. The true stories their mother had given 
them to read and passages in her own history, stranger 
than any found in this volume, were interesting enough. 
The old people of the generation preceding hers lived 
less on books than on the oral traditions handed down 
and perpetually repeated to the young. She herself 
added to a store of reminiscence real dramatic power 
and genuine humour. She was not ajBraid of speaking 
frankly to her children nor of showing them signs of the 
anguish it would cost her should they in any wise flinch 
from faithfully following the royal Master she served. 
"Were a remark made in her presence which she thought 
deserved censure, her way of most strongly conveying 
this was to leave the room. And while the ofiender 
sat trembling at the very thought of having vexed her 
and framing an adequate apology, she would re-enter 
the room by another door with a smile of guileless 
dignity, making a remark quite foreign to the discussion 
of five minutes before. Her instantaneous forgiveness 
and forgetfulness of the past was almost startling to the 
ofiender whose remembrance of the ofience was thus 
lastingly secured. 

At Springland there grew a weeping ash, under 
which feasts of fruit were made frequently by the 




children, who gathered the fruit and arranged it on 
the pale green and purple curled cabbage leaves for 
themselves and their companions. When the number 
was too large, their mother gave them the use of the 
Tower. She would arrange their places for them, and 
then leave them to themselves. These lines of hers, 
preserved during forty years by one of the sharers in 
these feasts, come to us to-day : — 

" To THE Twelve Cousins met in the Tower, 1840. 

" Meet in gladness, for the spell 

Of youth, charmed life, has brightly bound ye. 
Meet in gladness, it is well, 

Earth's best gifts thus thrown around ye. 
Taste the fruit, and cull the flower. 

Like yon songster carol lightly ; 
While, refreshing, near your bower. 

Sunlit waters flow on brightly. 

" Meet in gladness ! Why should care 

Throw her envious shadows o'er ye 1 
When life's pathway seems so fair, 

Lighted up by Hope before ye. 
Yet for Jesus — as ye part — 
Keep the undivided heart, 
And the Spirit's power implore 
To protect you evermore." 

* * * * * 

After twenty-five years had passed, the cousins of 
another generation are at play on the banks of the 
same river. Change and grief of every kind has passed 
over the owner of the dwelling, but her interest in 
making children happy outlives it all. A snow-storm 
has covered the landscape with white, loading the 




branches and burying the snow-drops; while Laura's 
hands have shown the rest how to make a man of snow. 
Her grandmother wrote regarding it when the thaw 
came: — 

" They gathered of the snow-drift, 
They fashioned it in form, 

A figure bright, 

In robes of white, 
It glistened in the storm. 
They made it eyes, and for its head 
They twined a wreath of berries red. 
And happy little Laura ran - 
To see her beautiful snow man. 

'' The sunbeam came and kissed its cheek, 

It melted quickly down. 
The famished birds, with eager beak, 

Plucked its bright berry-crown. 
And sadly little Laur» spake, 
* I cried as if my heart would break.' 

" Yes, pretty little maiden ! 

Go, tell thy simple tale ; 
Thy many fair young sisters 

Have treasures just as frail. 
Tell them to trust for happiness 

No idols here below. 
For quickly shall they melt away 

Like thy poor man of snow." 

The close of 1839 found the community in Scotland 
deeply moved by the work of God which had taken 
place at Kilsyth, mainly under the preaching of Mr. 
William 0. Bums, afterwards missionary in China. In 
many records of different kinds has the work so begun 
at Perth been chronicled. No one spent a whole day 




in the company of Mrs. Stewart Sandeman, without 
hearing snatches from her of the wondrous story. 
It was the crowning of the preparatory work of the 
faithful men who had long laboured, and still were at 
their posts to hail it. The most careless of the comun- 
ity reclaimed; Christians refreshed, and their exertions 
doubled ; the sign-boards of nine publicans taken down 
in one street, when the three months were over ; these 
were the proofs of God's power sent forth. Mr. Sandeman 
brought his daughter home from abroad on the last 
night of 1839, the most remarkable night of all in the 
beginning of that revival of religion. She was in after- 
life asked by the editor of Mr. Bums' memoir to com- 
municate her impressions of the revival in Perth, and 
wrote as follows : — 

** It was in a hotel in Rome that we first read, in the colunms of 
Gdlignani^s Messenger, the name of William Bums. The article 
was a bitter and sneering caricature. Arriving in Scotland a few 
weeks later, without having had any opportunity of being in 
church in the interval, and with the bewitching mummeries of 
the Roman Church, as they surrounded the person of Gregory 
XVI., in vivid recollection, we were taken to an inquirers* meet- 
ing conducted by Mr. Bums in Perth ; and the forty years 
which have since sped away, instead of eflTacing, have only 
deepened the impression of the scene we then witnessed, Wil- 
liam Bums was speaking from Revelation xiz. of the doom of 
Antichrist, and the hallelujah which shall rise from the redeemed 
when the smoke of Rome's tomient shall ascend in their sight He 
was wamiing the unsaved that over their destruction also the 
same assenting 'Amen, hallelujah > must yet arise, if they per- 
sisted in rejecting Jesus. He was inviting poor sinners to come 
to Calvary's fountain and wash and be clean. He was waming 
such as imagined they had washed and were living unholy, thus : 




* You are saying, "If I sin it will easily be washed out again.*' Or, 
if not Maying it with the lip, you are acting it out fearfully in the 
life. Ah ! the soul that has washed its filthy garments in the 
stream of Calvary is careful how the remedy is used. Many 
belieyers have so much allowed the stains of conformity to the world 
to disfigure the white robe, that instead of representing the work of 
Gbd within, they are scarcely to be distinguished from the servants 
of the deviL* He was setting before believers the coming joys 
of the marriage-supper of the Lamb, and said, 'This blessed- 
ness is not 80 far off as the world seems to think ; the meanest 
saint can tell that it has already set in with a sweetness 
unspeakable. Ushered into the breast of many by billows of 
affliction and temptation, beating wildly on the soul with their 
tempestuous swell, yet are the beginnings so glorious and so 
blessed, that they are an earnest of a springing up of a life eternal 
in the heavens. On the joys which shall crown our union with 
Emmanuel no destroyer shall lay the withering blight of his 
death-cold hand ; no ruthless separation shall snatch our happi- 
ness from us, or us from our happiness. After washing for a few 
days more in the free fountain here— after a few days more 
weeping on account of sin and sonow — you shall awake sud- 
denly in the city of our Gk>d, to walk with Emmanuel for ever in 
the courts above. The company, small here, will be innumer- 
able yonder. Ten thousand times ten thousand are their voices, 
and ten thousand times ten thousand are the harps they tune ; 
but it is as the sounding of one voice. Hallelujah ! 'tis the key- 
note of an eternal song. Only one name rests upon their lips ; 
it is Emmanuel They know but one song, the song of the 
redeemed. It is sometimes difficult to say here ' all His judg- 
ments are righteous,' for they are often heavy and severe. When 
you join that company, your narrow and short-sighted views will 
be gone. If I were ever to see the smoke of your torment 
ascending before the throne, I would have to say Amen; 
hallelujah ! and if you, standing on high, were to see the smoke of 
my torment ascending, you too would cry Amen ; hallelujah ! 
... An hour has nearly elapsed since we began to speak with 
you ; it is just taking wing ; a few seconds and it will have 
fled to bear its tale to the judgment-seat. Shall it announce the 




BabmissioQ of a Binner, the retam of a prodigal, the adoption of 
a son into the family above ?' The deepest solemnity pervaded 
the asaembly, as the simple, searching truth was calmly pre- 
sented. Individuals were conversed with in St Leonard's Church 
for an hour or two afterwards ; and many a burden was there 
laid upon ' the Lamb of Qod that taketh away the sin of the 
world.' These inquiry meetings were held three times a-week, 
and in the evening the church was open for the crowds that 
thronged it from town and country. An. hour before the time of 
service every seat was filled. The multitude generally remained 
in silence, and many heads were bowed in prayer. The stairs 
leading to the pulpit were also filled, and it was with difficulty 
the preacher could be conducted thither. The Bev. John Milne, 
the recently settled pastor of the congregation, usually shared 
the pulpit with the speaker. We recall especially one evening 
when a chair was handed up for James Hamilton, then of Aber- 
nyte, to sit at their side. It seems now as if one chariot had 
sufficed to carry home the three, William Bums, John Milne, 
and James Hamilton. That night was one of power. * Tough 
boughs require sharp pruning,* said the preacher, when some one 
would have tried to blunt the knife, by advising him to the use 
of more measured and tempered language. * A sleeping minister 
and a sleeping congregation, what will they do in the day of 
judgment ? ' He was privileged to break this sleep— in congre- 
gations, in kirk-sessions, and in manses. The first part of his 
discourse always embodied a mass of telling doctrine, holding 
up the Divine law right in face of the conscience. The appeals 
in the latter part were irresistibly winning, brimming over 
with the freely offered love of Jesus. The Spirit was glorified. 
He arrested many before the preacher had time to enter his 
subject ; in some cases the arrow sped from the first psalm 
that was given out, and many were awakened during the opening 
prayer. It is not easy to describe his prayers. Adoration of 
Jehovah's uncreated glory, as it falls on the darkness and cor- 
ruption of man's heart, and reveals the abyss of a yawning hell, 
filled the first part He brought himself and the saved part of 
his audience down into the sides of the pit whence they were 
hewn, in a way that made the greatest outcast in the church feel 




that he or she was sympathised with and carried abreast ; and 
then his soul would as it were be seen to pass anew through the 
cleansing flood, up into the very presence-chamber of the King 
of kings, and there looked up into the Father's face with 
unutterable love. His theology was unbiassed, and. swung like a 
pendulum across the truth of God, avoiding all limited, classified, 
partial, and one-sided expressions of it. His training of young 
converts was thus invaluable to them. *No cross, no crown,' 
was the term of enlistment. 'Suffering is the law of the king- 
dom.' ' The greater your sacnflces for Christ, the more of His 
joy will fill your heart.' * Forsake the glass, the dance, and the 
song, if you would drink of the rivers of His pleasures, if you 
would leap for joy on the shores of Emmanuel's land, if you 
would take up the unending hallelujah.' 

** He warned the young that if they would live near the Lord, 
they must be content to be singular even among believers, and 
to travel sometimes almost alone. * I am often reminded of this,' 
he said, ' when setting out by the early stage-coach. The morn- 
ing is sharp, companions few, and from the top of the coach you 
see whole streets shuttered in as in the night. But just here and 
there, one, earlier up than the others, has begun her morning 
work, with no one apparently to notice or thank her. She will 
find out the good of it before nightfalL So with you. Forget 
the crowd, walk with God alone.' 

'' It was a high standard he himself set before them. ' The 
longing of my heart would be to go once all round the world 
before I die, and preach one Gospel invitation in the ear of every 
creature.' He had a tender regard for those who were kept long 
in darkness ; saying, that those to whom the Lord had revealed 
much of their own sin and misery in the place of dragons, were 
often led into high places in the school of Christ. 

" All the roads from the town were nightly trod by groups of 
country hearers. Some were returning home to sing for the 
first time the new song. Others with heavy pace carried an 
arrow rankling in the heart. Others bore the good news of com- 
panions in town turning to God, the public-house signs taken 
down, the police comparatively idle, and families and workshops 
sharing the wide-spread blessing." 




Throughout the Perthshire highlands the same im- 
pressions were made during the summer, and on the 
9th September, 1840, being a guest at Bonskeid, Mr. 
Bums preached in the Tenandry Church to a large 
audience deeply moved. The features of the work 
remain written a generation after in the histories and 
minds of hundreds of the Highlanders. 

The summer of 1841 was spent at Fonab by the 
Tummel-side, Bonskeid being let. Mr. Bums again 
visited the district, and the country people gathered in 
multitudes. About this time we find the following 
entry in her Journal : — 

" Fonab, 28ih September, 1841. — I have of late been much dis- 
tressed by fears lest I am not God's own. Beading Erskine on 
the promise was helpful. My Saviour knows it is my choice to 
Jive on His Word, to go to Him as blind that He may guide me. 
Pride, indeed, says " No ** to this ; but then Jesus sees into my 
heart, — sees the full tide of joy which rises there when He enables 
me to throw myself right into the ocean of His love. Then 
can I drink great draughts from His promises, because of being 
so desolate, so strengthless, so altogether sinful. I would, there- 
fore, look to Christ every moment in reality, — ^away even from 
ministers and Christian friends. How I feel a severe word, a 
suspicious look ; then let me be tender to others. Let me have 
such words spoken to me as I need most. I gave myself all quite 
away to God. I would not draw back from this bargain since He 
has the keeping of my soul. I would be as Mary weeping at His 
feet, wiping His sacred feet." 

" Springland, Ut October.— QreaX conflict in my heart ; yet I 
pant, I long, I agonise to be in that rest of His — ^to live in Jesus, 
to breathe in Jesus, to bask in the beatific vision. My whole soul 
says Amen to the Gospel plan. It is my life to enjoy Him. He 
is my choice.'' 




When May, 1843, came, Mrs. Stewart Sandeman 
joined the Free Church ; and although she could not be 
in Edinburgh in person, her son and her daughter saw 
the whole proceedings of that memorable day. Early 
in the morning they were in St. Andrew's Church with 
the multitude, hearing the protest of ministers and 
elders read, seeing the Lord Commissioner withdraw 
overcome, and then they left the church along with the 
last outgoing men. Whilst the procession marched on 
towards Tanfield Hall, the crowd upon the pavements 
walked faster and arrived sooner. Thus they had a view 
of the entire procession, recognising many an honoured 
and well-known form. Thousands of young people 
received a lifelong impulse from that scene. 

She wrote, on 26th May, 1843:— 


^ We are leaving the Bcenes of our happiest hours, 
So gay and bo lovely with spring's opening flowers ; 
Our diildien's last look to their homes has been given. 
And faith'fl eye is fixed on her mansion in heaven. 
Now, Scotland, onr task is accomplished for thee, 
And the Chorch of onr countiy is faithful and free ! 

*' Last week in His house we united in prayer. 
And we felt that the Qod of our fathers was there ; 
Yet 't was aolemn and sad thus in parting to pray, 
And the last song of praise on our lips died away. 
Now, Scotland, our task is accomplished for thee, 
And the Church of our country is faithful and free ! 

Yea, secured to thee now is the GospePs sweet sound, 
And our conscience is peaceful, our fetters unbound ; 
The shield of His truth He will over us fling. 
And the shout that ye hear is the ' shout of a King.' 




The crown on His brow shall for ever endure, 

HiB throne as eternity steadfEwt and sure. 

Now, Scotland, our task is accomplished for thee, 
And the Church of our fathers is faithful and free ! " 

As she could not give all she could have wished in 
money, she parted with some of her fietther's plate. A 
portion of it shines in the communion cups of Moulin 
Free Church, Pitlochrie, while her massive gold chain 
is now possessed by her fiamily only in her portrait by 
Watson Gordon. Twice her husband bought it back ; 
but the third time she sold it, she got leave to lose it in 
the sacred treasury. 

In December, 1843, she received the following letter 
from the Rev. William Grant, minister of Tenandry : — 

« Mt Dear Madam, — In Mr. Sandeman's absence in London, 
I must inform you that an interdict has been served on me and 
that I have deliyered up the keys of the church. Our strong 
expectations of retaining tiie church as having been a chapel of ease 
belonging to the Society for Propagating Chnstian Knowledge, 
are now at an end. We worshipped yesterday (24th December) 
in the open air, a day unusually fine, and I intend being here also 
next Sabbath, if the Lord will. I had the tent on the glebe 
last Sabbath, but as Mr. Niven is to be in Tenandry Chapel 
next Lord's day, I don't like to be so near. On this account 
I write to ask permission to put the tent in your park or birch 
wood at a little distance from the house. Your attachment to 
the cause might have rendered this application, in the opinion of 
some, unnecessary, but I wish to do nothing of that kind 

" I am almost single-handed in this country. We have had no 
permanent relief sent as yet From Sabbath morning to the 
following Sabbath night, I sometimes ride one hundred and fifty 
miles, and after all cannot undertake the third of the work. 
How anxious I am about my people ! So great is my concern 




for them in the present emergency and with their present 
prospects, that I may say I have no other concern. Expecting to 
hear from you, — ^Yours, William Grant." 

Among lier papers we find the order sent to the 
ground-officer after receiving this letter : — 

*' David, — ^I am surprised to find that the people were, on 
Sabbath last, worshipping in the open-air, and as Mr. Grant 
wishes a place on our ground for the tent on Sabbath next, I have 
told him that you will go to Tenandry to consult with him as to 
the best place for it to be put, and I hope a convenient and 
sheltered one will be found.'' 

As her manner was when deeply moved, she wrote 
in verse. 

" To OUR People, Worshippinq in the Tent in Snow at 
BoNSKEiD, Pass op Killiecrankib. 

" Ye are welcome, beloved ! though cold be the blast, 
And slight is the shelter that we can afford, 
Though a tear dim the eye when we think on the past, 
Yet we welcome you here in the name of the Lord ! 

" And faint not, beloved ! we meet in His name. 
If our pathway be rough, He hath guided us here. 
In faith and in patience still following the Lamb, 
We wait for our Master, and He shall appear ! 

'^ Oh ! be not faint-hearted, but think on His love, 

Believe though these rocks and these mountains depart. 
His covenant faithfulness cannot remove, 
And His people still dwell in the depths of His heart ! 

** Then look unto Jesus, be watching His eye, 
Poor sheep in the wilderness. He will be near. 
And bright as these sunbeams, and clear as yon sky, 
His Spirit shall bless you, His presence shall cheer ! 

" IsT Sabbath or January, 1844/* 

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Mr. Sandeman at once had plans made for a chapel 
two and a-half miles from the old church. It was opened 
by Mr. Grant in 1844. Alexander, the eldest son, 

From photo, by FoIenMne S Sotu, Dundee, 

who had been much in England preparing for India, 
and was not yet quite in sympathy with the Free 




Church, good-naturedly told the servants that every 
one might go with the &mily to the opening service, 
and he would look after the house with his favourite 
sporting dog, Glenny. The dog had noticed every 
labourer and servant depart from the place, and coming 
into the house and finding his master alone, behaved so 
strangely to make him go out, that he took his cap, 
locked the door, and appeared at his mother's side, 
Glenny lying motionless at his feet. 

The thanks of the congregation at Moulin, Pitlochry, 
for the communion cups she had sent, reached her in 
the following letter from the Secretary of the Free 
Church Association there, dated 8th July, 1844 : — 

<< The vote of thanks passed by acclamation on Tuesday evening 
was not a formal one, as was evidenced by the giish of feeling on 
the part of all present The speakers received the response of the 
multitude in heartiest acquiescence. Your rich gift was for the 
first time applied to its intended purpose on Sabbath, the 16th 
ult., when upwards of 400 sat down to commemorate by means of 
it the dying love of Jesus, the gift of God that is unspeakable. 
We earnestly pray that God, ^ in whose hands our breath is,' may 
privilege you often to renew your love to Him, His cause, and 
His people, in the solemn ordinance which your bounty has so 
materially enabled us to celebrate becomingly for the first of many 
times, we hope, within the walls of our church ; and that, life's 
troubles over, you may meet with many here to ' drink it new ' 
in that heavenly temple above, whence there shall be ' no more 
going out ' as from earthly sanctuaries, but where all the wor- 
shippers shall enjoy alike a happiness unalloyed and undisturbed, 
because of its source and its immortality.'' 

In September, 1844, the Queen and Prince Albert, 
during their stay at Blair Athole, visited the Falls of 
Tummel, and the carriages were turned in the park at 




Coillebhrochan. Into these woods Robert the Bruce 

retired after his defeat at Methven in 1306. The 

I gable of an old house has been preserved to record 

this in Coillebhrochan Park. It was in remembrance 

of the shelter then afforded that he gave the lands to 

be possessed by the family, which has since held them 

from father to son, bearing alternately the names of 

I John and Alexander. Mrs. Stewart Sandeman was the 

I first heiress ; she wrote her welcome to the Queen : — 

I '* She looked upon the foaming waters, 

I She gazed upon the rocks around, 

r And she, the Queen of England's daughters, 

* Was hailed by mountain torrents' sound. 
I << Fit throne for thee, our Highland Queen, 

I Beside the roaring waterfall ; 

For grand and solemn is the scene, 
I And thou the Sovereign of it all. 

' " Here on the soil thy foot-prints rest, 

I Memorial sacred,"*^ as 'tis dear, 

More deeply is thy name imprest 
On every heart that loves thee here. 
" Four centuries have rolled away 

Since first these rocks 'twas ours to claim, 
I And from this memorable day 

j They shall be graven with thy name. 

• ^ My fathers sleep in Highland glen, 

Only a woman lives to pay 
I This homage by her humble pen, 

And now would bless thee on thy way. 
** Oh ! blessings on thy honoured head. 
Thou lovely and beloved one, 
May God in quick succession shed. 
And be Himself thy shield and sun." 

* The marks of Her Majesty's footsteps were long preserved at 
the spot. 





During the thirty-eight years following until the 
Queen's train passed south in October, 1882, the hour 
for the passing of the royal carriages opposite her 
windows, across the Tay at Springland, being known 
beforehand, was reserved for prayer for the Royal House. 
The following lines are dated 30th August, 1864 : — 
" On the Queen Unveiling the Prince's Statue.* 
*' In widow's robes I see her stand, 
She gazes round, she waves her hand, 

The Union flag is furled. 
A statue by its folds concealed, 
Is now to open view revealed — 
Ah I vain and mocking world ! 
" Is this thy best for her designed, 
For her, the first of womankind, 
For Britain's crowned brow ? 
Love, wedded love, 'twas all her own, 
The brightest light about her throne — 
Is this its image now 1 
«* We saw her erst a happy bride, 
Her royal husband by her side — 

The change, how can she bear 1 
The sight I cannot longer brook. 
Nor on that royal mourner look — 
I seek relief in prayer. 
*' Jesus, Thou Living One, to Thee, 
Thou Prince of life, I bend the knee, 
Make that riven heart Thine own, 
Fill it with Thy celestial peace. 
And when earth's troubled reign shall cease. 
Be hers a heavenly throne !" 
" Opening my Bible alone, while others were seeing the Queen, 
I hoped for comfort This was in my chapter, * Thine eyes shall 
see the King in H is beauty.' It came with power." 

* The work of Brodie the Bcolptor. The original was removed to 
Bonskeid after Mr. Brodie^s death, and placed there. 





DTJBING the succeeding years the scattering from 
Springland began. Alexander had obtained a civil 
appointment for Madras, and was being trained at 
Haileybury College; David was to be the merchant, 
and after learning weaving in Barossa Street, was sent 
to Worksop School in Nottinghamshire, where only 
French and German were spoken; Frederick went to 
the University of Edinburgh ; Hugh was at the Perth 
Academy; and Frank and Charles were the home pets 
under Peggy's care. 

But iji 1844 David having finished his apprentice- 
ship in Glasgow, was brought to see the truth in a very 
clear light at Springland in April, on his way to 
business in Manchester. It was a most memorable day 
to his mother and to him. She asked him after his 
arrival on Tuesday if he would go with her to the 
communion the following Sabbath. He said, " No, for 
Mr. Somerville told me in Glasgow that it was only for 
the friends of Jesus." ^' Will a child of mine tell me 
on Tuesday that he will remain away from Jesus until 
Sabbath ? Did you ever give yourself up to Him ? If 





not, then do it now." On the way upstairs his sister 
met him. They had been long parted. They went into 
the schoolroom together. Ignorant of what had taken 
place below, she knelt at his side in prayer. He went 
up to his room, the west attic looking on the Tay, and 
locked the door. There he knelt, and said from the 
heart, " Lord Jesus, I give myself to Thee." It was 
final — ^the last of so many weary steps. He realised 
that he had been taken at his word by the unseen 
Listener, and that he was no more his own, but given 
away. Mr. Somerville came on the Saturday following 
to assist in conducting the communion services, and to 
stay at Springland. Far into that Sabbath morning the 
faithful minister and the rejoicing disciple sat together 
speaking of the Saviour and the ioheritance newly 
claimed. He lived out this dedication at the communion 
table, the family board, the office desk, the pattern- 
rooms ID Manchester. 

David told of the divine love at his Sabbath-class, in 
the teachers' meeting, in a prayer meeting held weekly 
in the house of an invalid. The light and the life grew 
apace, and to his sister at Bonskeid a letter came from 
him in September, begging her to find out if it would 
be too great a disappointment to his father should he 
now become a minister. His mother wished he might ; 
often she had given up her six sons to the ministry. 
Yet it seemed to her a doubtful course to iaterfere with 
his father's cherished plan. His purpose was to divide 
what he possessed equally among his children, leaving 
it to the one who could earn its value to possess Bonskeid. 




He often quoted a remark of Sir Bobert Peel in the 
House of Commons, that the father of six sons could 
never call himself rich. He deemed it unfair to bring 
up one son in luxury by leaving the others impoverished. 
He had advised his own father against purchsuong more 
land to bestow upon himself. 

Mr. Sandeman took his daughter to Manchester to 
have one interview with David before the University 
classes began — unable to trust himself to approach the 
painful question, and her mother beiag unequal to the 
journey. A day with David and an hour with his 
employer settled it; he was released from his two 
years' engagement, and left for Edinburgh University. 
On the 24th April, 1845, he was groomsman at his 
sister's marriage to George Freeland Barbour. 

It was a sore wrench for the mother to part with 
the one who had shared her every thought She was 
far from well, and she and her daughter had settled 
between them that it should not be asked of her to 
be present at the ceremony. The incident is recorded 
because it was so like herself. They had parted in the 
forenoon, when she gave to her daughter some verses, 
beginning: — 

" They bid me sing a song, my love, 
When my heart is nearly breaking ; 
They bid me smile to my gentle dove, 
Her happy home forsaking.*' 

She was not to be disturbed again. Every prepara- 
tion for a quiet wedding was finished^ All at once the 




nursery bell rang for Peggy. On entering her mistress' 
room, she was desired to bring in her coloured dress. 
It was a dove-coloured shot silk, covered with a black 
lace shawl, and she came down, the loveliest in the 
room. Her black curls unmixed with grey, her eye 
fixed on the bride all through address and prayer, the 
smile never left her face. As she watched her daughter 
change her attire for going away, with the Bible 
in her hand, she gave her this precept, "Walk before 
Me, and be thou perfect ; " adding, " I had set myself to 
pray for you alone this afternoon. I opened my Bible 
to search for a promise, when this met my eye, * Son of 
man, behold, I take away from thee the desire of thine 
eyes with a stroke : yet neither shalt thou mourn nor 
weep, neither shall thy tears run down. Bind the tire 
of thine head upon thee, and put on thy shoes upon 
thy feet.' I dared not remain upstairs." 

After three weeks spent at Bonskeid, the bride 
returned to Springland on her way to Manchester, 
where she was to take up David's class in the Sabbath 
school of the Presbyterian Church, and attend to the 
people he had visited. Her father and brothers had 
an arch of flowers and every other mark of welcome 
waiting for her. Her mother read to the family these 
lines: — 

•* Ye deck a bower for the bonny bride, 
When she sits enthroned by her husband's side, 
With the waving flag and the flowers of spring ; 
And ye make the air with your welcomes ring. 
Proud rose the arch for our highland Queen, 
When she came to the land, where she ne'er had been ; 




And round her gathered^ fresh and free, 
The flower of her northern chivalry. 
Ye deck the bower for Queen and Bride, 
And welcome both with the full heart's pride. 

But make room, make room, there's a nobler band, 
That higher yet should in honour stand. 
For have ye forgot, like a tale that is told, 
The day that is scarce two summers old, 
When the noblest of Scotland's sons came by. 
With the firm set step and the dauntless eye, 
And gave Caledonia in guerdon to Thee 
A Church that was loyaJ, faithful, and free 1 
They left the fair manse in this sweet month of May, 
And the woodland haunts and the garden gay, 
And wife and children had tears in their e'e. 
That Scotland's Kirk might be faithful and free. 

Nor are they the last that the path have trod. 
And given themselves to their country — to God ; 
See these fair youths,* with the flashing e'e, 
Haste on to keep pace with the brave and free ; 
And proud and joyful may Scotland be, 
Such ardent ones in their wake to see. 
And when they are gone to their rest away, 
They'll bear the burden and heat of the day. 

After this trying parting, God was gracious; the 
weakness of seven years passed away, and strength and 
enjoyment were given for work and duty. She waited 
on her boy Charlie, and still more closely on her nephew 
William Fraser in typhoid fever. An orphan and the 
only son of her earliest friend Margaret Sandeman, Willy 
made Springland his home in his school holidays. He 

* Her two sons, David and Frederick, preparing],for the xnixiistry. 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 


was very dear to her, and endeared himself the 
more to his uncle by the remark which he made to 
the Master of Loretto School on not having received 
the usual letter, "I wonder what can be wrong with 
the post-office that no letter has come from uncle 

At this time she began a weekly class in the Tower 
on the river, to keep hold of the pupils of a day-school 
which had been taught there for four years. This 
day-school had originated in a trifling circumstance; 
Her daughter had for some time taught in the 
house five children belonging to farm-servants in the 
neighbourhood. One wet day their feet had left marks 
on the stair-carpet. She was told that it would be 
necessary to put them off at least till summer. This 
was promptly done, but with sore regret It was not 
long till her parents told their daughter that having at 
once acquiesced in their will, she might have the use of 
the Tower at the water's edge for the class. The five 
children had not been many days settled on a school-form, 
bought for them, when other little hands came knock- 
ing. At length sixty children were on the roll, forty in 
attendance ; the rule of admission was that parents had 
either been too careless to send them or unable to spare 
them to a regular school. The hours were from nine to 
one, so the rest of the day was free for home work. 
She took a great interest in the school, opening 
the window to hear the singing of the rhymes and 
hymns, and when the teacher was wanted to do any- 
thing for her mother in the house, the children were 




on their honour to continae, the girls sewing, the boys 
knitting, and all singing, till her return. They peti- 
tioned to have also afternoon school on market-dajrs and 
race-days. On these occasions some of the children 
from the Perth infant schools used to come and join 
the lessons. On the wedding-day above alluded to, the 
children came in the morning and sang at the window, 
receiving thence, as a present, their dress pinafores 
and work-bags, now no longer needed. The best pupils 
— ^two sisters, Margaret and Kitty — were soon received 
at Springland, to be for thirty-eight years Mrs. Stewart 
Sandeman's attendants and assistants throughout, in 
sickness and in healtL 

To all children she in a special manner endeared 
herself. All through her life we find this exemplified, 
till at the close her class-list preserves the names of 
more than two thousand young persons regularly 
instructed by her at diflerent dates. 

She wrote to her daughter in Manchester, 29th 
October, 1846 :— 

"Deabest M., — As you would hear by the intimation fix)m 
Gask, Aunt Naime died on Sunday. Her age was seventy- 
nine. I had, as a child, expressed to my dearest Aunt a strong 
desire that the title might be restored. She said sweetly, ' Ah 
Maggy, we should have no keen wishes concerning earthly 
things.' What she had then said came back so forcibly as I 
looked upon her after the spirit had fled. What true dignity was 
imprinted on that lovely countenance, which still bore a decided 
intellectual impress ! I felt that she belonged to the aristocracy 
of heaven. 

" The day before, she was out in the garden-chair. They wheeled 
her to the door of the chapel, which is nearly finished. Aunt 


by Google 


asked Mr. Olipliant if he had written to the Bishop of Gashel 
about consecrating it, seeing that he would not have it done by a 
Scottish bishop. Mr. Oliphant said he had not, and that it was 
as well at present to have no ceremony, as superstition was going 
to such a height. He repeated the words— 

* Jesus, where'er Thy people meet. 
There they behold Thy mercy-seat ) 
Where'er they seek Thee, Thou art found | 
And every place is hallowed ground.' 

Aunt Naime heartily said ' Amen,* and added, ' the place will 
soon be ready for me.' Next morning she was unable to speak, 
but quite conscious. Mrs. Oliphant read to her portions of 
Scripture and verses &om her favourite hymns. To her she 
reached out her hand affectionately, and gradually became weaker 
until she passed away." 

In the autumn of 1846 Alexander lefb home for 
India. A few days before he set out, she was spending 
the afternoon on the terrace with him at her work, 
while he walked up and down, reading aloud from the 
Hindustani grammar. She wrote in pencil and laid 
on the open book the lines, of which these are a part. . 
It was often in this way, and not by conversation, that 
she made known her deepest thoughts : — 

<( And that strange volume in his hand, 
Its character I may not know. 
Ah ! speaks it not of that far land, 
To which too soon himself must go ? 

** Too soon~my heart, be still, be still ; 
Blessed and happy 'tis to know 
That one all-gracious, perfect Will 
Controls our every step below. 




^ Almighty Ann ! awake, awake, 
Upon him lay the grasp divine ; 
Never Thy charge one hour forsake. 
By oath and covenant he is Thine.'' 

It bad grieved his mother that the serious impres- 
sions of his boyhood, although these bad never been 
so deep as to give her confidence, had apparently passed 
away at school in England. This is expressed in the 
lines she wrote when be went to his first ball : — 

** Go tread yon airy scene of joy, 
If joy indeed it seem to be ; 
But while its charms thy thoughts employ, 
A mother's prayers shall go with thee. 

" Amid the dance, the laugh, the song. 
Each serious thought afar may be ; 
Yet as the moments sweep along, 
A mother's thoughts have flown to thee. 
" Yes, full of life, and free from care, 

Thy youthful breast may dance with glee ; 
But there's a heart thou know'st not there^ 
A mother's heart is fixed on thee. 

" While all around wear smiles so bright, 
And joy lights up each face you see ; 
E'en on this gay and mirthful night, 
A mother's tears are shed for thee. 

" Nor think me gloomy, dearest boy, 
If scenes of mirth seem vain to me ; 
How my heart pants to share heaven's joy, 
A long eternity with thee !" 

Early in 1846, she spent two months with her 
daughter at Manchester. The day before she was to 
leave it her first grandchild was being carried up- 
stairs, when a dust-shovel, unperceived on the landing, 




tripped the servant's foot, and the infant was thrown to 
the ground. During days of suspense the grand- 
mother's faith and calmness were conspicuoua 
Recovery seemed to be complete, but six months 
later she had to surrender the child to Him who 
gave it 

In November, 1846, she joined her husband at 
Torquay, where his physician had sent him to 
recover from an illness. They afterwards visited at 
Clifton, her aunt Mrs. Keith and her cousin Miss 
Steuart, Dalguise. Mrs. Keith's loss of her sister, 
Lady Naime, loosened her hold of life, and full of faith 
and love, engaged to the last in the good work which 
ever engrossed her, she died at Clevedon in 1847. 
They also spent some time at Brighton during this 
visit to England in 1846. Her journal contains the 
following : — 

** Brighton, lOth December. 

''Having to go to church alone, leaving Charlie and Peggy 
with my husband, I was shown early into one of the pews for 
strangers. A lady handed me the hymn-book, and, as we 
waited, spoke. It was Mrs. Candy, wife of a missionary at 
Bombay. I afterwards visited her. She gives a delightful 
account of the way in which the Lord blesses her husband's 
labours, especially to the good of young men. Eighteen of them 
from Britain breakfast with him on the Monday morning, and 
read the Scriptures. Numbers who left home careless are being 
brought to Christ in India. The missionaries are full of 
brotherly love, and meet often for prayer. She bore witness to 
the zeal of our Free Church missionaries." 

" IZih December,— A young woman, previously very ignorant, 
living in the house, has been brought into conversation about 
eternity. She was asked whether she had ever had any concern 




regarding it. * I am sorry to say I nerer liad time.' Did she 
pray? *No.' How did she hope to get to heaven? * I never 
had thought on the subject' But the result of the interview was 
evident alarm and anxiety. A second followed, and she wept 
bitterly ; the arrows of the Lord seemed wounding her deeply. 
Her companion heard from her, and she likewise desired to have 
conversation, and was in tears. The former of the two trembled 
at God's Word, saying, * Yes, I felt I was a lost sinner ever since 
you told me.' But she could not receive the glad tidings of a 
Saviour ; the desire to do something for her salvation hindered 
her. She admitted that in so doing there could be no safety for 
her. She seemed earnestly to desire Christ, to see that He is a 
perfect Saviour suited to such as she, could she but call Him 
her own. Her friend is obliged to leave Brighton, and has com- 
mitted her and her fellow-servant, who from the first was deeply 
moved, into God's hands, that they may be brought into true 
solid peace in Christ alone. They are entrusted to a Christian 
lady's care. Their whole demeanour during the week was con- 
sistent with what they expressed ; may this prove to have been 
God's own work. Lord Ashley, Mr. Bickersteth, and others 
have raised a fund of ;£20,000 for supporting 700 Scripture 
readers in Ireland." 

" Springland, 22nd Janua/ry, 1847. 
" The subscriptions for the starving Lrish and Highlanders go 

on liberally. When in Edinburgh, I found the ladies at S 

making up quantities of red flannel for the L:ish poor. Dr. 
Chalmers coming in to encourage them with his brilliant and 
practical words. The ordination of the Parsi, Dhanjibhai, in 
Canonmills was a grand scene. Dr. Candlish preached from 
* The glorious liberty of the children of God.' About 5000 persons 
were present. Dr. Wilson, of Bombay, sat by his young friend, 
the Presbytery of Edinburgh around, with Drs. Chalmers, 
Gordon, Cunningham, Buchanan, and other members of the 
Foreign Committee. The charge by Dr. Candlish went over the 
events of the Parsi's life, and alluded to his being the first fruits 
of Persia unto God. * Smitten by the arrow of conviction you for- 
sook father, mother, sisters, brethren; you left country, rank, 
possessions, friends for Christ Do you repent it ? Look around . 




you, brother ! Behold your mother and your brethren. . . • Go 
brother, and carry through trial, through Buffering—it may be to 
death — the unsearchable riches of your God and mine. Qo^ 
impelled by Him, and at His call. Go not as a minister of man's 
making, notiit the bidding of a Free Church, but in the name of 
your Master and ours, on the strength of that commission given 
ere He ascended, and which I trust He has sealed upon your 

" 24«fc JkTarcfe.— The Fast ordered to be held, and proclaimed in 
the Queen's name in the Grassmarket and in other convenient 
places, has been kept with great order, and we trust by many 
with much humbling before the Lord." 

" 2l8t AprU, — The Reverend W. C. Bums, hitherto so blessed in 
Scotland, England, Ireland, and Canada, has been ordained as 
an evangelist to China at Sunderland. The committee asked 
him when he could be ready to proceed thither. He replied, 
* To-morrow.' He charged my son-in-law with his messages to 
friends. During the ordination service there was not a dry eye 
in the church." 

" May, — The most revered name in Scotland is now 

named as among the illustrious dead, and Chalmers has entered 
glory ; his last day on earth a Sabbath ; his last exercise of wor- 
ship in his family performed at its close. Monday morning they 
drew the curtains to fin(} the noble tenement deserted. The 
massive head with its crown of silvery locks lay on the pillow ; 
the countenance, full of peace and dignity, seemed to say, ' I am 
gone up.' Beside him lay his prepared deliverance on the Sus- 
tentation Scheme and the College Report. The General Assembly 
is waiting to receive his words of wisdom ; but the knock at his 
door brings no answer. The desired documents — there they lay, 
but the master spirit was departed. Professor Macdougall went 
to tell the weeping Church, and to hear her cry, * My father, my 
father, the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof.' The 
Assembly sang — 

*' ' Take comfort, ChristianB, when your friends 
In Jesus fall asleep/ 

and adjourned." 

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In India Alexander distinguished himself as a civilian 
in the Madras presidency. It was during the first year 
of his residence there that divine truth took possession 
of his mind. The society at Haileybury had not been 
such as to lead to this ; nor would he accept of intro- 
ductions to the missionaries abroad 

He was upright and honest, making no profession of 
religion ; but at sea, hearing the New Lights, as 
decided Christians were there called, made game of at 
the dinner-table, he said, " Not a word against the New 
Lights ; my mother is one." This remark led two ladies 
of the company to retire to their cabin to pray for him. 
Their interest was further deepened by observing that 
he forgot on more than one occasion that it was 
Sunday. They were bound for Madras, as he was. 
When the ship struck, and most people showed 
anxiety as to their fate, he betrayed none. All the 
more did these kind friends continue to make request, 
until, on the Eastern shore, their prayers were turned 
to praise. He kept out of the way of the Scotch 
missionaries by going on Sundays to the Cathedral, 
lived at the club, studied hard enough, but joined in 
every amusement A fancy ball was in prospect j he 
had ordered his dress. Cholera began to prevail, and 
he had a slight attack In its spasms he exclaimed, 
"My God I" It sounded in his own ear like prayer, 
which had long been discontinued, but in that hour 
was renewed, not to cease again. He recovered, and 
the first day he was able to leave his room, asked at 
the office of the club the way to the Free Church Mis- 




sionary Institution. His buggy threaded the thorough- 
£Etre, and left the fashionable part of the town behind. 
Arrived, he introduced himself to Mr. Anderson, the 
revered man whose labours were sealed by so much 
proficiency among the pupils, and by many conversiona 
He did not tell all his errand, but visited the variofus 
classes. When Mr. Johnston and Mr. Braidwood 
showed him some youths who had become deeply 
interested in the Gospel message, the young stranger 
replied, "But will it last?" He was invited back to 
dine with them next Sabbath, and became a constant 

Free intercourse with the young natives who had been 
baptised not only helped to guide his own feet into the 
good ways of God, but much increased his proficiency 
in the Tamil and Telugu dialects. To this he ascribed 
the honours which he carried off in his examinations. 
The joy which these tidings brought to his mother 
knew no bounds. Daily during his voyage she had 
withdrawn with his brothers, David and Frederick, to 
ask this thing for him from God. He copied for her 
passages from his New Testament which had brought 
him light It was the little pocket Testament she 
had given him in former days, which he searched for 
as soon as he could creep from his bed to look 
for it in his illness, and had covered with a piece cut 
out of the velvet of his ball costume, which had been 
brought in during his illness. To the sea-shore he 
carried, in the cool mornings, a little text-book, in 
which all the dates of birthdays and other family red- 




letter days bad been marked by his sister, and which 
had been packed in with his books unknown to him. 

Along with Messrs. Harrison and Nesbit, two 
Englishmen who had also become decided Christ* 
ians, he applied to serve under Mr. Huddlestone 
Stokes, who was an outstanding servant of Christ. 
But that happy service did not last above four years. 
The hot season came with severity in the trying 
climate of Guntoor, and Alexander first, with eight . 
others following during that year, had to be removed 
from it by various results of sunstroke. He came home 
invalided to Springland, to be once more at his mother's 
side. She wrote before his arrival : — 

"To Alick. 
" Oh, welcome beloved ! across the white foam. 
To the land of thy fathers, thy fair island home ; 
To her heart that has longed for thee often in vain, 
And pants to embrace her own darling again. 

" That feeling of blessedness how could I tell. 
Which fills all my bosom as waves onward swell, 
Which a mother on earth is permitted to share, 
Yet is worthy of heaven, and perfected there : 

" To know that the Lord has in inercy received, 
To know that on Jesus my child has believed ; 
Ajid to gaze on thee now, thus for ever made one 
With the child of my love, my thrice precious son." 

She devoted herself to him, listening with keen 
interest to his graphic details of his work. Travelling 
in the South of France with his sister he met Miss 
Caroline Bourgeois, whose father had been President of 




the Canton de Vaud, and they were married at Geneva 
in the following summer. He returned to work 
in India on the Malabar coast on the expiry of 
his leave. 

His mother closed the record of 1849 in these 
words : — 

" The year leaves ua lying low before our God, because of ein, 
unfruitfulness, and unfaithfulness, and want of grace to praise 
Him for deliverance. Cholera has passed over and carried away 
many, while we are spared ; others have sunk, and we are all 
alive unto this day. Trials of faith have been sent to many of 
His people. The clouds have passed away, and the sky is clear 
again. Waves have- gone over the believer, he has been tossed as 
if out of life ; but has he been overwhelmed ? The child of God 
has been cast into the seven-times heated furnace, but has one 
hair of his head been singed? High above these floods, and bear- 
ing his head over flood and flame, has shone the imperishable and 
eternal word, * When thou passest through the waters,' &c. All has 
been fulfilled this year, has it not 1 Let ua inscribe on the annals 
of 1849, * He is faithful' " 

And again : — 

** I4th Jamutryf 1850. — I have sought to suppress even in this 
record the distress caused me ever and anon by the words of 
friends who seem to have a right to speak. They tell me I am 
blighting the prospects of my family by trying to bring them up 
as followers of Christ, as I see the path laid down in His 
word. Each trial that comes I am charged with having brought 
about The teachers chosen for them, the companions, ministers, 
books — all come in for a share of the blame. Where health has 
been lost, it is the missionary work attempted in addition to their 
secular work that is accused. My heart is poured out in sorrow 
when no eye sees it Ever since God led me, against all the bias 
of my nature, .to follow in the path of blessing, this furnace has 
been heated for me, and appeals have been made to me by not a 
few to desist, my unbelieving heart sometimes speaking louder 




thaii them all. I pray tliat these fires may only bum the bonds 
of self-will and cowardice, and confirm my choice wherein it is 
God^s choice, for me and mine, on whose behalf He has done 
wonderful things. Let the rebellious will be broken, let Satan be 
bruised under our feet, let not the old question be still asked, 
Where is now their Qod V 

In her Journal she tells how a fire at the house of 
Bonskeid was arrested in a singular manner :— 

" July, 1852. — David and his friend Oswald Allan were on a 
walking excursion, and chanced to be coming up the Pass of 
Eilliecrankie, and on by the road over to Bonskeid, which is 
let. They saw the glare of flame at the house, hurried on, and 
reached it just in time to aid in extinguishing the fire. * We saw 
the power of God in wind and flood and fire during that visit,* 
he writes, * for there came on a pouring rain, and a blast which 
uprooted trees by hundreds.' Our tenant tells us David stood on 
the roo^ near the burning rafters of the offices, and by his cool- 
ness in giving orders was a chief instrument in preventing the 
spread of the flames. The servants had gone to dinner and left 
the furnace door and laundry door open, the clothes were caught 
in by the draught, and it is so far from the main house that the 
flames took hold unobserved. Part of the offices will have to be 





IN the autumn of 1852 Mrs. Stewart Sandeman's 
brother-in-law David left home in Dumfriesshire 
to consult a physician in London. While sitting 
in his brother Hugh's house on the Sunday evening at 
dessert, leaning as he talked, his head upon his hand, he 
ceased speaking and was found to have died of disease 
of the heart. His eldest brother Mr. Sandeman hastened 
from Springland to the funeral, and on his return had an 
illness at the Grange House, Edinburgh ; his wife came 
over to attend him, and employed their little grandsons 
Freddy and George constantly as her messengers from 
the sick-room. On his recovery, they returned 
home to Springland. The same evening the boys* 
mamma was writing to Springland, and asked if 
they had any message. Freddy said, "Tell Grand- 
mamma that we have been working in our garden; 
I can't send her any love, for all I have has gone with 
her." It was only three months after that visit, that 
their grandpapa came to Edinburgh to see them before 
their intended journey to Manchester, which was thus, 

almost imaccountably to themselves, delayed a day. 

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The boys laid down the railway-map before him, and 
showed him all the towns which they must pass. On 
the 4th of March, as he travelled north and they south, 
the railway accident occurred which stole the two boys 
away.* Their Uncle David went from college at Edin- 
burgh to tell his parents of the five lives (including the 
servants) gone or in jeopardy. His mother observed 
him near the entrance, and opening the front door, 
said, "Do not come up one step, till you say what 
has happened." 

Mrs. Stewart Sandeman was much occupied during 
the summer in attendance on the surviving members 
of that family, accompanying her son-in-law and 
daughter, with their infant, to Harrogate, and 
bringing them home to the Grange. Her son 
David had now begun mission-work among the 
colliers at Hillhead, which had already proved a 
remarkably prosperous field of labour. In 1854, after 
the visit of the Kev. William Bums of China 
to Scotland, David obtained his parents' consent to 
offer himself as a missionary of the English Presby- 
terian Church to China. A small but beautiful 
link between his parents and that land had already 
been formed, their two grandsdns having each saved 
half-a-crown, and given it to a missionary to buy Bibles 
for the Chinese children. Their strange death a fortnight 
after caused that missionary, the Kev. James Johnston 
from Amoy, to name the last gift of the brothers where- 

* " The Way Home ; and how the Children reached it by a Railway 
Accident.'' Nisbet & Co., Bernera Street, London. 




ever he went Their grandmamma interested herself in 
the scheme, for which £500 was gathered for Bibles, 
through this incident. 

Among her papers of this date this meditation is 
found : — 

** Saturday JEvming, — Hour of prayer for David. Have been 
enabled to give him quite up to the Lord to go anywhere all over 
the world. To-night, praying for the outpouring of the Spirit 
over the world, over His ministers in Scotland, and missionaries 
in China. I return to Him Samuel, whom He gave me. Only 
the Lord establish His word, and make him a blessed minister. 
A dear, dear boy he is to me. At the end of prayer, felt much 
hope, and indeed an answer that a plentiful shower will descend 
on this parched earth ; but faith must wait His time. To-day 
David begins his Hillhead station. Lord God of Elijah be with 
him, stand at his right hand, bend souls before the power of Thy 
Spirit, and show him clearly whether his work is in Scotland, 
or whether Thou wilt send him far hence unto the Gentiles ; 
whether Thou wilt have him learn that most difficult language, 
and spend much time at his age in this, or whether Thou hast 
work anywhere else by his own or already acquired languages. 
O Lord, show his path clear as noon-day, let there be no doubt- 
ing or darkness ; and, when once Thy holy Will is clearly shown, 
let us all with alacrity welcome it and follow it. I thank Thee, 
that he has a single eye given him to see that Will by." 

Just after David's offer was accepted, intelligence 
reached Springland that Alexander was very ilL For 
three y^ars he had acted as assistant magistrate to Mr. 
V. ConoUy, Collector in Malabar. There was a rising 
of the fanatical Moplahs. Though a civilian, he went 
into the jungle to assist the Officers of the Station in 
putting them down. He caught jungle fever and died 
at Cannanore. 




Before next mail brought the announcement of his 
death to his parents, similar news arrive'd from Buenos 
Ayres of the death of their fourth son, Hugh. On the 
night of the railway accident, 4th March, 1853, he had 
been for hours exposed in sleet and cold winds, while 
searching for the missing infant of seven months old, 
Margaret Stewart, Mrs. Stewart Sandeman's name-child. 
Heedless of himself, he also was present at the inquest 
on her little brothers, brought their bodies to Manchester, 
and arranged for the funeral. A neglected cold never 
passed away, though he still was unremitting at ware- 
house work, his Sabbath-class, and choir-practising. A 
sea-voyage was ordered too late, and he sank in one 
week after reaching South America, 24th December, 
1854. A pencil jotting told that he often wished that 
he had his old nurse, Peggy, with him — Peggy, who 
had packed the boxes, and was to receive them back 
again to her now forsaken nursery. 

His desk contained a journal, and at the end of it a 
register with a nightly entry of the houp at which he 
reached his lodging. Left for the first time alone in a 
large town, with no eye upon him, he took this way 
of protecting himself from late hours, and of saving 
time for his nightly reading. He was reserved as 
to the progress of his own mind in Divine truth, even 
while successfully using its precepts among others, but a 
paper in the desk told his mother that he first appre- 
hended the freeness of Divine grace, when at Ben 
Rhydding he took from the shelves a volume of Dr. 
Cumming's sermons and read ona The poor families in 




his district and connected with his class had cause to 
miss and mourn him. 

We find the following lines written by his mother in 
June, 1855, when walking in her garden the first time 
the lilies bloomed after these successive bereavements: — 

■ " The valley's sweet lilies that grew in the shade, 
All fragrant and fresh in my bosom 1 laid ; 

But their bloom and their sweetness are o'er ; 
The Beloved to gather His lilies has come, 
Has laid in His bosom and carried them home 

To bloom in His light evermore." 

In August, 1865, Alexander s widow, with her three 
fatherless children, came to Springland. The little 
Elizabeth, born at Lyons after her mother's return, 
was baptised in the drawing-room by the Rev. Thomas^ 
Dymock. Mr. Sandeman, unwilling to trust them with 
any other escort, resolved to accompany his daughter- 
in-law to Cannes, where she was to winter with her 
mother. His son, David, now about to proceed to 
China, left to spend the last month with his mother. 
The missionary's outfit was packed, his fitrewell 
sermons delivered, and there only remained a visit 
to Manchester, on which he set out. Mra Stewart 
Sandeman was alone. Her husband, accustomed to 
long journeys, had bid them leave the outer gate open, 
so that he might slip in late any night, as the time of 
his arrival was uncertain. It was October; a rough 
crossing of the Channel he always avoided, but having 
crossed, he made one run of it to his fireside. On 




the morning of the 1st inst. she had the longest 
and most interesting letter from him she ever received. 
It went back to the days of their early love, and 
reviewed the long prosperous, if now clouded, his- 
tory. It told that, having found it would take only 
three days to visit their old friend, Mrs. Stuart of 
Annat, at Montpellier, he thought he ought to give up 
the time to that, as the health of her youngest daughter 
was causing her anxiety. He might be home on the same 
day as his letter. He had written out his full heart 
to her, and wished the letter to be destroyed. Thrice 
she perused it, and as the day ran on, unwillingly threw 
it into the fire. She kept placing all his things as 
he liked to find them, and at last gave up expecting 
him and retired. At ten p.m. a telegram, with the 
tidings that Mr. Sandeman was laid up at Montpellier 
with Asiatic cholera^ came to Mr. Marshall, Kosemount, 
Mr. Sandeman's partner in Luncarty Bleachfield, who 
carried it round to the kitchen door to break the 
sad contents first to Peggy, and then to the other 

It was decided by Frank, who came in later, not to 
tell his mother till the morning; and he rode off 
during the night to Bonskeid with the tidings. His 
brother-in-law went to Perth with him, to proceed to 
Montpellier; but news of the death met them there in 
the forenoon. Peggy had gone down at midnight to 
the river-side, where she could weep aloud. Her mas- 
ter had been throughout life her revered idol, and grief 
for the moment almost shook her reason. Next morn- 




iog she was quiet enough to break the first news to her 
mistress, who met it calmly, and prepared to go to him ; 
but when she heard the whole truth, her strength gave 
way. Faith remained unshaken, and her gathered 
children looked on their mother, wondering to see 
what the widow's God is able to do. A day later, Mr. 
Mason, the legal adviser, and one of the warmest 
friends of Mr. Sandeman, came from EdinburgL He 
knew that from the nature of the settlements, the 
transfer of Bonskeid to his son-in-law could not now 
take place, as the latter was appointed guardian 
of his brothers-in-law. But on the second morning, 
written as in copperplate, came a letter by the 
post addressed to Mrs. Stewart Sandeman by her 
husband. He had arrived at the Hotel Nevet ; 
among the crowd of visitors he failed, the first even- 
ing, to find Mrs. Stuart Next day he felt ill; but 
having discovered at the post-office the number of her 
rooms, he spent that evening with her. The following 
morning he was unable to take nourishment, but wrote 
a letter, removing his son-in-law from his place as 
guardian and trustee of his children^ so that nothing 
might hinder him and his wife from possessing Bonskeid. 
On his bed lay a French New Testament in large print, 
with the name of a Montpellier bookseller; all through 
it were marks showing that he had read the whole in 
the three days, and that God's word had been his stay 
when parted from all beside. He would not permit 
Mrs. Stuart or her daughter to approach his room. 
He knew the malady well, even before the doctor 




came; he had seen cases of it in Perth during 
both visitations, and was not mistaken now. Mrs. 
Stuart's maid was able to sit with him at times and 
read from her English Bible — ^his own had been left at 
Cannes; and he sent by her the following letter, 
written in pencil to her mistress. Its careful thought 
for another is only in keeping with that forgetfulness 
of self in the desire for the well-being of others, which 
distinguished him from first to last. Not long before 
his friends at home had admired a proof of this in him. 
He had accompanied Miss Marshall of Rosemount, on 
a drive from Luncarty. The horses ran oflf and 
approached a steep embankment; the coachman leaped 
from the box for his life. Mr. Sandeman whispered 
to his aged compaoion, " I shall not leave you." With 
ease he could have done so, and for a few instants both 
thought they were approaching death together. But 
one of the horses entangled its foot in a low hedge and 
stopped for a moment, when Mr. Sandeman quickly 
secured both. 

His letter to Mrs. Stuart at Montpellier, written 
within eight hours of his death, ran as follows : — 

« jVo. 96, Hotd Nevetf Monday. 

" My Dear Mrs. Stuart,— I don't think it would be good 
for you to have more conversation to-day ; and seeing also that 
the weather continues inclement, I would beg to suggest that we 
do not meet again. Had I known that you, as well as Miss 
Eliza, had suffered when at Lyons, and likewise that Mr. Kenneth 
had come on to this place, and had only left you a few days ago 
imder the care iof a medical man, I think I should have passed 
on to Paris, however much it has gratified me to see you. 




" The great risk to all invalids is that of doing too much, and 
I take up the impression that from this to Marseilles is all of a 
treacherous climate, liable to sudden alterations. If you s^ree 
with me, I should now wish that God may bless you, watch over 
you, keep you, and restore you all to us again, tempering the 
wind, and smoothing the path of the widow and fatherless. — 
Ever your own and your daughter's attached friend, Q. S. 

" F,S, — You will see I intend this to relieve you of all feeling 
of ceremony that because I have come on purpose to see you 
therefore you ought to see more of me ; but seeing that I can be 
of no service, I now leave Montpellier quite satisfied. I only 
regret that your son was obliged to leave you before your winter 
place should be settled. Still, of course, I am in your hands to 
do whatever you may prefer. 

" Of course, I could never presume to make any suggestions as 
to winter quarters ; but you asked me about Cannes and Nice, 
their localities, &c. It strikes me that any comfortable house you 
could expect at Cannes would be too near the sea, and that it 
would be a dull place for the young ladies, unless the Duchess of 
Gordon might make up for the deficiency. I can say nothing of 
the climate either of Cannes or Nice, but merely comparing the 
two as residences, I should much prefer Nice as a cheerful one, 
where, you know, there is a regular English quarter, and where 
most people find a few who are more or less known to them ; and 
at Nice there must be either a regular English medical man, or 
French one who can communicate freely with the English. 
There is also an English druggist's shop. I supposed you had con- 
sulted Sir James Clark or some other celebrated man as to climate 
when in London. I am fitting myself as well as I can for a night 
journey, but rather doubt if I can move until the morning. At 
my time of life repair does not proceed so fast as one might 

The good Pierre, the waiter of the table-d*h6te, had 
been told off to be his constant watcher. The invalid 
had always loved France with her warm climate 
better than Scotland with its wind and mist. He 


by Google 


had often said ofifhand that he should prefer to die 
in a hotel, like a real wayfarer, ready to depart on the 
morrow. He had his desire. Before midnight he sent 
his watch to Mrs. Stuart,and remembering it was unwound 
he sent for it back again, returning with it the letter 
to his wife to be posted if he died. By Dr. Vaillh^*s 
last visit suffering was over, and he said he really felt 
better. Knowing the doctor intended before long to 
visit Scotland he invited him to be his guest, when he 
would show him the most beautiful place in the High- 
lands, with its roaring waterfall. He slept away. 
Before daylight his remains had been carried to a 
mortuary at the cemetery, there embalmed, by his own 
order, as his stepmother's had been at Bordeaux twenty 
years before. The bedding had been burnt, the furni- 
ture carried out, and the room re-papered, swiftly and 
noiselessly. Any of the guests who asked for the Scotch 
gentleman said to be suffering from a bad cold, were told 
that he had got well and had started for home, so 
dreaded was the first case of cholera at Montpellier ; it 
was raging at Marseilles, where he had slept a night. 

It was at Montpellier that the prayers of his own 
young mother (his father's first cousin), Hannah Sande- 
man, were fully answered for him. She had died 
sixty-two years before, having named him Glas, after 
her maternal grandfather, Mr. John Glas. John Glas 
had resigned his living at Tealing in the dark days 
of the Church of Scotland, and founded the denom- 
ination known as Glassites. His son-in-law, Eobert 
Sandeman, author of "Letters on Harvey's Theron 




and Aspasia," with other theological works, pungent 
and powerful, spread the same principles in England 
and America, where the sect took the name of Sande- 
manians from him, but were bound together closely 
in doctrine and discipline. Down to our own day, 
Faraday and others of less note, have held the same 
tenets. Mr. Glas Sandeman's own mother had been a 
most loving disciple. Her portraits preserve her beauti- 
ful features ; she was so gentle that even her pony could 
take his own way. She rode him slowly, often reading 
while she rode. One hot summer's day, she parted with 
one of her cousins at Perth, saying they would meet, 
some hours hence at Luncarty. He followed her some 
time after on foot. To his surprise, he found pony 
and rider at a stand still in the green field into which 
it had walked, as there was no fence ; the trees shaded 
them from the sun, the pony grazed, his mistress 
unaware, it seemed, of where she sat, or how time ran, was 
deep in the last pages of the absorbing volume. During 
the lifetime of Mr. Sandeman's stepmother whom he, 
as an elder brother, constantly and aflfectionately assisted 
in the upbringing of the young family, the name of his 
own mother was not mentioned. Four of her children 
had died before her, she herself died at twenty-eight. 
On his father's side Mr. Sandeman could not count 
further back, in- Scottish dialect at least, than his 
great-grandfather. Captain Sandman, who had annually 
brought his fleet of five ships with timber from the 
Norwegian forest, and married in 1717, Margaret 
Ramsay of Baldinnie. George Sandeman, the oldest of 




his five sons, bought Springland and married Jean 
Duncan of Seaside, grand-daughter of Elizabeth Bruce 
of Clackmannan ; Andrew Duncan, one of the Scots 
Worthies, was her great-great-grandfather. 

For ten years before he died, Mr. Glas Sandeman's 
mind had become imbued with the love of Scripture. 
It took the type of his mother's teaching; he sought for 
the books she had studied, revered especially the name 
of the man after whom she had called him, and some- 
times far into the night took from the shelves the old 
volumes of Glas and Sandeman. He read them, and 
above all the Scripture, with his two younger boys, who 
only now were at Springland. In the afternoon the three 
might be seen together entering the Glassite meeting- 
house to listen to the expositions of Mr. James Morison, 
who had been closely engaged with him in winding 
up the Bonskeid trust more than twenty years before. 
Mr. Sandeman's remarks to the younger servants and to 
his own boys at family worship showed how deep his 
researches into Scripture had been. 

The glass pane placed by the embalmer in the coffin was 
uncovered during the half-hour it lay in the drawing- 
room at Springland on the funeral-day. The widow's 
dress was thrown over her quickly, as for the first time 
she rose from her bed to go down into the drawing- 
room for a moment alone. She took her son David's 
arm and said, " WitK a hold of this I can do anything." 
As she kissed the pane of the coffin she said, " You are 
there, but not all there ; you are in the white robes," 
and returned to her chamber. 




About this date we find in her book the notice of her 
daughter-in-law's first and second visits— ai9 a bride and 
after her return from India — and of her husband's death. 

" The Voice of the Sprinqland Flowers. 

"A lady came from a foreign shore, 

We showered gay blossoms round her ; 
The bridegroom's gone ; all shivered lie 
The links of bliss that bound her. 

" Under a glowing eastern sky 
Softly he sank to rest ; 
While o'er his brother's grave there streamed 
The sunset of the west. 

" Our valley's lily hung its head, 
The news it could divine ; 
The mother gathered it and said, 
' So Jesus gathered mine.' 

" Sadly the young widow came, 

White blossoms round we showered ; 
And o'er her drooping head like rain 
The dewy tears we poured. 

" But when on fair Eliza's face 
Baptismal waters fell. 
We heard her grandsire's earnest voice 
Wish the sweet baby welL 

" That fervent blessing, 'twas his last, 
Who left, but came no more ; 
He breathed that faithful spirit out 
On the loVd, friendly shore. 

" Ah ! then we faded, laid our head 
Low on the earth with him ; 
And under death's cold, icy tread. 
Each brilliant tint grew dim,' " 




The Committee of Foreign Missions of the English 

Presbyterian Church at once wrote protesting against 

David going to China for a year. To her and to him 

it was a year of near communion with Christ and each 

other. Always ready to preach and work around 

Perth, he made Springland his homa Bitter was the 

parting when it did come ; but she would hear of no- . 

thing else. He was ordained at Liverpool in 1856. Her 

youngest son, Frank, alone remained with her. 

" Sabbathy 2Sth December^ 1856. — ^Alone. Mr. Bums was safely 
kept through his arrest and imprisonment in China. Comparing 
the dates, I find that we were met in prayer for him during his 
dangerous journey under guard of the Chinese officials. He has 
been brought before rulers for the testimony of Jesus. In lone- 
liness, in sadness, may I be enabled to hold on in prayer while 
undergoing the process of creature alienation, that Jesus may 
have His own place in the soul. May the Spirit of God blow 
over the frozen surface which Scotland now seems to present 
May the breath of life pass over this city— rOver the young people 
in it May China be given to Christ for His inheritance, the 
uttermost part of the earth for His possession — Africa, slavery- 
ridden America, the world I Once in these rooms where I am 
thus alone, 

" The hymn rose sweetly on my ear. 

It sounds not as before ; 
And his sweet notes I cannot hear 

Who sings on China's shore. 

" There was a chorus full and strong 
On every Sabbath even ; 
'Tis louder now the bless'd among — 
These voices are in heaven. 

" And those who still the psalm upraise 
Are scattered far around ; 
Though true they sing the Saviour^s praise, 
I may not catch the sound. 





" And oh ! how shall I sing alone 
This sad and silent even ] 
I think I too must soon be gone, 
And join the song in heaven." 

" Let mothers trust to the last for their children. Mrs, C- 

had lost six, with good hope of each ; the seventh, a young man 
of eighteen, died last week. Daily she had in some form asked 
him if he had placed his trust in the Saviour, but no reply was 
given. His minister told me how taciturn he was, and I said his 
mother may hear him speak yet. The next day he died. Just 
before he fell into a swoon, and his father said all was over. The 
mother exclaimed, *I have not got an answer to my prayer.' 
After a pause the father said, * He is breathing.' The boy awoke, 
beckoned to her, and whispered, * Mother, mother.' She came 
near ; for the last time softly put her question : * Can you rest on 
Christ?' With a loud voice the dying boy cried *Ye8,' and 
expired. Prayer, prayer ; Lord, teach us to pray !" 

" Zlst December, 1856. — This year how many have gone ! ' And 
the latest shaft of its broken wing hath smitten one watchman 
more 1 ' Hugh MiUer is laid low. War with China is spoken of ; 
and God of Thy people ! God of missionaries ! let Thy right 
arm be round William Bums, David Sandeman, and Carstairs 

" Sahhath, leth February, 1857.— From my husband's Qlassite 
hymn-book I read — 

" * From yonder dunghill, lo, He picks 
A topaz for His crown ; 
Sapphires and amethysts most rare, 
Amid the rubbish thrown.' 

" To-day I have been thinking of the preached word, trial, 
persecution, the still small voice seeking out and gathering to 
Christ the souls of men in Europe, in Asia, in Ajnerica, in new- 
found Africa. Africa, with her open doors ; let men be sent 
thither ; the elect are there it may be in countless thousands." 

*^ Ibth March, — ^EcHpse of the sim is nearly total this Sabbath 




** Eise in thy brightness, 

Shine on thy way, 
Break forth in splendour. 

Monarch of day ! 
Full orbM in glory, 

How fair thou dost seem ; 
Creation rejoices 

And lives in thy beam. 

" Short is thy journey 

Of glory to-day, 
Darkness as sackcloth 

Must shroud each bright ray. 
'Tis on thee. Invaded 

And shorn of thy beams. 
The glory is shaded 

And sickly it gleams. 

" The sear tints of autumn, 

They hang on the plain ; 
The cold chill of winter 

Has reached us again. 
Our sweet feathered songsters - 

On each laurel bough — 
Ail silent the concert 

They gave us but now. 

" It darkens, it darkens, 

The clouds have come down, 
And closer enshroud us 

With mantle of brown. 
Jehovah, that mad'st them. 

This earth, and that sun, 
Lo ! prostrate the nation. 

The worship begun ! " 

*^20th June.— This has been a sweet Sabbath-day to me. 
Twice at church, as for a month past I have been. Our former 
minister, the Bev. John Milne, is restored to us after being for 
yeaw settled in Calcutta. I seem to be once more replanted in 
this house of God, which has been so often closed to me." 




She spent part of the next year with her daughter and 
her husband at the Grange House, Edinburgh, and on 
her return to Springland had recommenced her class, 
and gradually been able to interest herself in kindred 

Her niece, Anna (Mrs. Parker), only daughter of her 
earliest friend and sister-in-law, had been an inmate of 
Springland from time to time for many years, and now 
for a time made it more her home. 

In June, 1858, her son Charles was married, and she 
writes to his bride on the day before the wedding : — 

"... In your liappiness, acknowledge the Lord, who changeth 
not. Ask His Spirit now, that casting all your sins on Jesus, 
you may get from Him the robe of righteousness, to be adorned 
with it as a bride adometh hersel£ So may you be united that 
' death shall not divide you. Thus shall you be a crown to your 
husband, and you will begin to-day a union that will yield only 
blessing. May such blessings rest on you both. I can leaVe 
all earthly things truly in His hand. I give ye my own motto, 
* Seek je first the kingdom of Qod, and dl these things shall be 
added.' Be cabn and rest on His strength, and He can keep you 
both through the solemn service looking unto Jesus. — Believe 
me, after twelve to-morrow, your attached Mother. M. S. S. 

"A little box with flowers, such as we have, goes by this 

In a letter written some days later she describes how 
the wedding-day was kept at Springland. It shows her 
constant habit of uniting all the household in every joy- 
ful family event : — 

" In the evening Charlie's old nurse and twenty of the old ser- 
vants and people had tea in the library. I gave the health when 
we went in to see them after tea. Janet^s husband addressed the 
young ones, then prayed, and we sang the three last verses of 




Psalm Ixxx. Mr. and Mrs. Milne called, and he remembered you 
both earnestly in prayer." 

When a child came to brighten the new home, she 

wrote to the same daughter-in-law : — 

" Not only you but yours shall now be within the covenant. 
I would not give up an interest in it for my children for a thou- 
sand worlds, and for ever I shall bless Him who made me choose 
for them all the kingdom of God and His righteousness alone. 
Do so now in His strength, my own dear M." 

Throughout these letters, and by a thousand other 
noticeable indications all through her life, it is strik- 
ing to observe how completely she had learned the 
lesson which her mother, so many years before, had 
earnestly prayed might be taught her. She had made 
the choice, and determined that she and her house 
should serve the Lord. Now, she in turn hands on the 
lesson to her children, and prays through lonely hours 
in the old home at Springland that in each of their 
households, scattered as they now were in many quar- 
ters at home and abroad, the same principle might be 
faithfully adhered to. It is no small gift for a mother 
to give her children when they go forth from under the 
shelter of the old roof to build nests of their own, if she 
can point to the consistent example of her own life in 
such a matter as this. 

In September, 1858, the China mail brought a 
letter addressed in a strange hand to her son-in-law. 
There was none from David himself, and so she opened 
this one. Her beloved son had been called away to 
his Divine Master's presence at Amoy, 31st July.* 

* See " Memoirs of David Sandeman," by Bev. Andrew Bonar, D.D. 




Now it was that those who were left of her family 
could really measure the strength of grace in its sus- 
taining power. David had always been the most like 
herself; everything seemed gone from her; but God's 
work remained. 

We take one of the last from the small packet of 
letters on thin foreign paper, which his mother received 
during his less than two years' absence from her, and 
which has not been printed befora His devotion to 
her was deep, and to him her love was priceless and 
peerless ; her recent loss of two sons abroad, and of her 
husband, had deepened the love on both sides. He had 
been hearing from the [^ American missionaries of the 
vast work of God's Spirit which had begun in the New 
World, and wrote as follows : — 

'^ The American state of things will surely be the means of 
stirring up to expectation from God for Scotland and England. 
What a true use of the telegraph was that, commimicating the 
number of souls hopefully converted to God, from city to city. 
And then so little outward meaus in the way of preaching, almost 
all prayer. 

" The news of so many friends dining with you was pleasant, 
my dear mother. There is need by all means to keep the whole 
heart open for Jesus and His service. ' It is more blessed to give 
than to receive,* is a precious and weighty saying of Him who 
spake as never man spake. It is one of those comparisons of 
greater good and greater blessing which are eminently for the 
children of the kingdom, and missing the spirit of which, they 
lose untold treasures of blessing, both in this worid and in that 
which is to come. 

" Avoiding aU enthusiasm, it is a most precious blessing that 
we are called to a complete giving over and handing up, as it 
were, unto Jesus, that He may (to speak with reverence) put His 





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hand upon all, whatsoever we have, and use it for His own 
gracious purposes, — taking and making what use He chooses of 
anything that is ours. True love should conduct to this, knowing 
as we do, that infinite wisdom guides all that He does ; and, 
again, remembering that, as Paul writes to Philemon, so Jesus to 
us, 'Albeit I do not say to thee how thou owest unto me even 
thine own self besides. Yea, let me have joy of thee.' 

"Who knows how short a time we may have to be as the 
bride of Jesus, down here in the wilderness ? What U the us$ 
of the things of this world, but to lay them out so as most to 
serve Him ] 

^' I cannot tell how sweet is the love of Jesus away in these 
parts, it seems as if it were all doubled by the distance come in His 
sweet name. What used to be in some sort as a common vintage, 
is now as the most precious of sweet wines. Is it not even so, 
my dear, honoured, and at last, deeply afflicted mother 1 ^ And 
the roof of Thy mouth (0 Emmanuel) like the best wine for my 
beloved that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are 
asleep to speak.' 'Many waters cannot quench love, neither can 
the floods drown it.' 

" It is the best news to hear of dear M serving the Lord 

with all her heart. Do not be afraid of the opium question 
troubling me in the way you speak of. There have been too 
many warnings as to that, that such burdens are eminently to be 
taken to Him upon whose shoulders is the government. But this 
is consistent with a true and continuing sense of the guilt of our 
country and countrymen in the matter. 

^ Adieu — may the Lord Jesus be near you at all times, and hear 
all your petitions. — ^Your ever affectionate son, 

" David Sandbman." 

In David's journal, the last words found written were 
" love and liberty." A missionary and his family had 
to move for change of air, and David had come to take 
charge of their beautiful dwelling. Among the last 
entries in his journal are : " 24ith July, — Gracious 
Saviour, my Lord and sole abiding Friend, be Thou 




neax to keep and sanctify. Deeply hast Thou been 
pleased to satisfy my heart with Thine own love ; nor 
hast Thou withheld all those human founts for which 
man naturally yearns. Come Thou near now on this 
day of preparation for preaching the holy and blessed, 
though searching trutL Thy service, my Saviour, is 
sweet beyond all thought, to preach in the name of 

^ Living in this large, high-roofed dwelling, with its 
broad verandahs, the evenings especially I much enjoy. 
A touch of sickness, with health restored; dwelling 
near kind friends, so that I have society and solitude 
combined ; an instrument of sacred music ; moonlights 
of surpassing yet mild brightness, with now and then a 
passing sail, the notes of two snow-white turtle doves, 
crying gently morning, noon, and night, re-echo to my 
heart the sounds and scenes of my far-distant native 
land." " 26th July, — Hundreds said to be dying daily 
from cholera. *Be ye also ready,' at midnight, cock- 
crowing, or in the morning." Next day, 27th, — " Day 
somewhat darkened by the flesh." Afternoon, — ^" Bead- 
ing in the Lamentations, found it good." 

Two little girls, a missionary's daughter and that of 
an American captain, away on a voyage with his ship, 
dined with him. Next night the latter sickened; the 
native servants ran away before she died. David did 
everything for mother as for child. Flowers were sent, 
and he plaited the white wreath. The mother refused 
to leave the body till they came to bury it. The Rev. 
Mr. Doty only got her to her room by promising to sit 




up half the r^ght with the remaimi, caUing David from 
his last sleep to take his post when he lay dowxL 
When the bearers came for the body David could only 
walk as far as the boat which was to row her to 
Eo-long-800, and returned ilL When the missionaries 
came to his bed-side asking what gave him confidence, 
he replied, " From head to foot, righteousness ! " " Any 
messages to friends ? " they asked ; " Tell my mother I 
thought of her, because she taught me the way to 
Jesus." " Is the High Priest precious ? " " He always 
has been, He always has been, exceedingly precious, 
exceedingly precious, from the moment I knew Him 
till now. The love of Jesus has ever been to me as a 
cloudless sky; the one dark spot in it has been my sin. 
May grace be given you to pray earnestly for China 
and its perishing millions." Asked if he felt pain, he 
answered, "The only pain I have known since I knew 
Christ has been sin. The love of Jesus is like the sea 
around you! It was only last night, when I had a 
little more strength, that the love of Jesus came rush- 
ing into my soul like the waves of the sea — as if it 
would rend me — so that I had to cry, * stop, Lord, it is 
enough ! ' Oh the height, and depth, and length, and 
breadth, of the love of Jesus ! And I was constrained 
to cry out : — 

" * I would go where Jesus waits me, 
I would be where Jesus is ; 
All too long have we been parted ! 
Let my spirit speed to His.' " 

The very evening his mother heard of her son's 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 


death, after we had laid her on her couch, she recol-- 
lected that Mr. Grattan Guinness was to preach in Perth 
City HalL She sent for her maid and desired her to 
tell any one of the gentlemen who might go with the 
evangelist to the platform, of a message to the people 
of Perth in her son's last letter, that they should labour 
on, assured of a rich blessing at hand As we watched 
her in these days, we saw the power to sustain 
which God's great work on earth possesses. She had 
given herself to it unreservedly. It gave itself to 
her ; it bore her through. All, in a sense, was taken, 
from her; what she cared for most was left — ^the 
paradox of the tried Christian : ^ Formerly, I possessed 
Grod in all things, now I possess all things in God.'' 
Fenelon was gazing on the features of his pupil the 
Dauphin as he lay in state, the idol of himself and 
France ; yet he said, as one bemoaned the loss he had 
sustained, " If the turning of a straw would put me 
again in possession of what I most love, I would not 
turn that straw unless He bade me." For the rest of 
her life she was to subsist upon the work He had given 
her to finish, and on Himself the Finisher. "Heaven 
is nearer than China," were the first words that escaped 
'her with the letter, one page half-read, in her hand. 
When her own minister, the Rev. John Milne of 
St. Leonard's, came to visit her, he said, "It seems, 
my friend, as though our Lord would have you in a 
sense possess the earth ; India has one. South America 
another, and now China; they shall come firom the 
east and the west to sit down in the kingdom." The 




Rev. Andrew Gray, whose pulpit David had supplied 
for three months in the afternoon three years before, 
was the first to see her. He reached the foot of her 
bed, and standing there, repeated 1 Peter i, prayed, 
and left the apartment, unable to trust himself to utter 
a word of his own. Her niece, Georgina Sandeman, 
from London, remained with her for two years, became 
of one mind with her aunt, and by loving sympathy 
helped her to begin the course of lonely widowed life. 
Georgina pursued a bright course of usefulness wherever 
she went, and having guided others into God's grace 
was taken before her aunt into the life beyond. 

The Rev. W. C. Bums wrote to her from China : — 

"Amot, 2nd August^ 1858. — I was surprised ten days ago in 
coming to Amoy to be told by Mr. Douglas that the committee on 
Mr. Sandeman's affairs, at their final meeting, had decided on giv- 
ing to me. his small Geneva watch. I value this legacy exceedingly, 
and from the very small size of the watch I may be able to carry 
it where I could not use my own. It has already measured off 
the short span of his life on earth, and may perhaps do the same 
for me." 

We find the following entry in her Journal : — 

'* 17^^ October, — Alone here, but ah ! not alone in communion ; 
Jesus in the midst of the throne, and the spirits of redeemed 
ones around Him. My husband, saved by the blood of atone- 
ment The three brothers there, lovely in life, now undivided. 
How much more a home for me in heaven than here 1 The 
spirit's communion with Jesus, how satisfying even here ! Holy 
Spirit visit thy heritage everywhere. May souls be won for 
Jesus to-day, this is my prayer^a diadem for His brow. Father, 
remember the travail of His holy soul under the sin of a whole 




" 28th A(wem6er.— Alone ! Wave on wave I Three sons (after 
my two grandchildren killed) and my husband, and there looms 
in the futare a cloud of loneliness^ of complete desertion. Still 
the Lord rises high above it all. Still the glorious Sun shines 
pervading it all ; his faithfulness set in the very heavens. Few 
ever had such a constellation of blessings as I had; so many 
lovely stars composing it Who made them shine ? By whose 
light did they beam so brightly ] Jesus." 

On the first night of frost, she went alone among 
the flower-beds to gather dahlias and fuchsias. On her 
return with the basketful she wrote : — 

" October's cold bleak frost had come, 
And, with its chilly breath, 
Each flower must droop ere night be done. 
And bow its head in death. 

" I culled them from their slender stem, 
I hid them in my breast ; 
Oh I emblems sweet and fair of them 
Who safe in Jesus rest 

" Fair in the garden of His grace 

They budded, bloomed, and then 
With His own hand He gathered them 
To bloom in heaven again." 





THE present chapter covers a period of twenty 
years. The members of Mrs. Stewart Sande- 
man's family paid her occasional visits ; but as 
she always refused any proposal to have a resident 
companion, she lived much alone. On New Year's 
Day, 1859, she wrote in her journal : — 

'* Though all of earth be taken away or shaken to the centre, 
His purpose stands. 

" * O bnt the ooimsel of the Lord 
Doth stand for ever sure. 
And of His heart the pnrposeB 
From age to age endure.' 

"Blessed purposes are they ! He took my beloved ones ; His 
saving purpose of love awakened them, then united them to 
Jesus, made their light shine, and stamped their brow with His 
image. He said to each, ' Come up hither,' and was with them in 
the valley. They are, by His love, with Him in glory. All is 
welL Now, in the shakings of earth, be Thou with me. I 
renounce all strength, all of self ; but I ask full strength, and all 
of Thy self in the stead thereof. Alone, but desiring to be 
led to-morrow to Thy table. Let my prayer come up before Thee 
for my loved ones yet left. Oh claim every soul as Thine own. 
This is my petition ; this is my request this New Year's Day. I 
leave it in full futh with Thee, even to the whole of Thy King- 




190 ALONE. 

Two days later she writes : — 

** Deabest M., — I hope you are better. I ventured to chnrcli, 
and at first felt overwhelmed as I sat down at the Table and they 


** * While kindness in His bosom glowed, 
And from His lips salvation flowed.' 

It seemed to me as if our David, when he was dying, had in this 
been made, though at an infinite distance, somewhat to resemble his 
Lord. By-and-by I could rejoice as receiving the emblem and 
feeling that my Lord was at that moment the Living One above, 
and it seemed as if David and the rest were with Him, while we 
are left to struggle here. He sustains us, and is intimately near. 
Mr. Milne spoke from the Song of Solomon. After we returned 
to the pew Andrew Bonar was like 

" < Rutherford, with look inspired, 
As if his Master spake.' 

His addresses at the table were on the Altar and the Sacrifice." 

The missionary work abroad and at home had now 
received her to abide henceforward in its grand, wide 
chamber, heaven s vestibula To lead as many as she 
could into Christ's presence, to bring the ear of her 
companion as close as her own to the open chink, the 
hand to the lock, so that the Song of the Kedeemed 
within might be overheard, the chorus joined in — this 
was her chief occupation, whether she found herself 
among her friends, alone with her maid, or in the 
corridor with the telegraph-boy or other message-bearer. 
The outcast had free access to her. The weary 
labourer collecting money, scattering tracts, or carrying 
Bibles, left her presence encouraged and refreshed. 
The beginner in the Master's service, when in hesita- 



ALONE. 191 

tion as to duty, would come to her, and never left her 
without faith being strengthened. 

An extract from her journal, 2nd September, 1858, 
shows how her heart was prepared for a higher place in 
this work. It was written while the Chinese converts 
at Amoy and Swatow were meeting daily to pray that 
she might be strengthened to receive the news then on 
its way to her, of her son's death. 

"Alone, reading * Pressing into the Kingdom' (by M, F. B.). 
Yes ! Christ is enough, Christ is all ; and is it no theme for praise 
that He is become so to me ? How enduring is the believer's 
portion ! How steady the brightness that flashes forth from the 
jewel that is ours ! The heavenly inheritance, Christ yonder, and 
all that He makes heaven to be, we have not got possession of yet. 
We have Him by His Spirit in the soul, and the bright hope of 
seeing Him as He is. Lord, keep it unclouded. Bemove the 
veiL Increase the attracting influence. Bring us near unto the 
unseen glory. Give days of such nearness as we have known 
both as a church and as a city ; for unbelievers were then over- 
powered and confessed an awe was on their spirits. But why 
comest Thou not yet 1 Why appear so deaf to Thy people's cry 1 
Working everywhere else over this globe — America and Europe 
made one — China open to the GospeL Britain Hes before Thee 
— Thy people in Britain wait, asking ' Come, breath,' watch- 
ing, Elijah-like, for the little cloud, pointing to the dead bones, 
the silent lips, the deaf ears, the powerless hands of thousands 
and tens of thousands of her unconverted children lying as in the 
shroud and the coffin. How easily do Thine own children 
endure the sight ! Awaken them. They need the same spirit to 
arouse them that the dead ones need to bid them live. Dost 
Thou not see that Satan has administered to Thine own people a 
sleeping-draught) so that all appears to us in our dreaminess in 
false colours 1 Speak Thou first to our souls, and touch our hps 
with a live coal from off Thine altar, and inspire all Thine own 
to say, • Send me.' " 



192 ALONK 

The following lines are found in her Journal, 

addressed to two young men on whom she had 

expended for years her heart's love and constant 
endeavour: — 

*' I must pass on, so a brief farewell, 
Since ye will not come with me. 
The sun is low, and I cannot tell 
How near death's flood may be. 

At every step shall rise a prayer 

That ye may outrun me yet 
But I see my loved ones shining there, 

And earth's sun has nearly set 

Oh ! love has lingered and wept and strove, 

That together we might go on — 
But swiftly drawn by my Saviour's love 

I gird me alone to run." 

The year 1860 was to usher in rich spiritual blessing 
to many hi Perth, and to find her among the foremost 
in gathering the harvest. She writes : — 

^^Sahhaih, I9th January, I860.— A day of thanksgiving at 
the close of the world's week of united prayer. Let us 
not be satisfied till triumph after triumph, and crown on 
crown, be awarded to Emmanuel. Faith expands, our prayer 
grows more comprehensive, our hope brightens, our love glows 
and the object of it all is to get souls united to the Lamb of God. 

"Let the prayer of Jesus be fulfilled, * that they all may be (me, 
not merely near each other, not only friendly, loving, forbearing, 
but one. How condemning to the past of the Church is that 
prayer ! 

Heaven's fire to earth came down, 

Earth caught heaven's song of praise, 
And brought another crown 

Emmanners fame to raise. 



ALONE. 193 

One shout ascends in greeting 
To Him— our crowned King, 

And heaven and earth seem meeting 
The one new song to sing. 

It was on the 28th of August that Mr. Reginald Rad- 
cliffe, invited to Perth by a committee of ministers and 
laymen, came to stay at Springland, and commenced 
his work at an immense open-air meeting on the 
South IncL His hostess, with all under her roof, was 
deeply impressed by his words and prayer at family 
worship that morning. There was nothing outwardly 
to give rise to expectation of great results. Yet Perth 
had been laid on the heart of the evangelist so much 
and so long that he could appeal with certainty to 
Christ's promised guidance and power to be exercised 
then and there : *' Thou Thyself shalt work, and we 
shall see the signs thereof. Thou shalt make the 
breach in the walls of this city, and we worms of clay 
shall creep in after Thee, to see Thy victory." Even so 
it was. So great was the power of God on the multi- 
tude before him, that, after prayer, singing and speak- 
ing for half-an-hour in calm but heart-piercing words, 
he at once invited inquirers among the men present to 
go into the neighbouring church of Free St. Leonard's. 
Scores of hitherto careless persons flocked thither, while 
women went into a tent erected near. During four 
hours ministers and ladies of experience conversed with 
them,amazed at the evident tokens of a deep and genuine 
work of grace. From that day for seventy nights in 

succession, Saturdays excepted, crowded assemblies 




194 ALONE. 

overflowed the City Hall. Ministers of every deno- 
mination, jfrom all parts of Scotland, from England, and 
Ireland, came to share in the descending blessing, and 
remained to help. The evening trains brought in 
listeners from the country parishes, and carried back 
witnesses to God's goodness. Mrs. Stewart Sandeman 
took charge of the side-room for women on fifty-seven 
nights out of the seventy. The City Hall having after 
that time been let for another purpose, she told the 
young people "of her side-room that they would be wel- 
come at Springland on Saturday afternoons. From 
this date the numbers of her class increased, until, at 
the close of her work, the list which was kept by her 
contained two thousand and thirteen names. 

Services of the same nature were tarried on in 
August, 1861. Her house was the home for, almost 
every evangelist who visited Perth. The following list, 
copied from her Journal, was kept by her, that she 
might follow each in his work elsewhere : — 

Messrs. Grant, of Amdilly, Brownlow North, Keginald 
Eadcliife, Richard Weaver, Albert Boswell, Harrison Ord, James 
Sillars, W. P. Lockhart, J. S. Hendry, Dr. W. P. Mackay, 
David, Alexander, John, and Robert Simpson ; Messrs. Grattan 
Guinness, Jobn Fraser, James Tinling, Steele, Tytler, Stone, 
and Collie ; Dr. Craig, Major Ross, Captain Hull, Messrs. Jenkin- 
flon, Donaldson, Colville, Duncan Matheson, Gullane, R. C. 
Morgan, Beaken, Fullarton, Horatio Gilmore, and Professor 
Martin ; Revs. F. G. Littlecot, J. M*Nab, J. H. Wilson, R Cowan, 
W. Davidson, Horatius Bonar, Andrew A. Bonar, William Milne; 
James Wilson, Wm. Reid, John Tait, James Stalker, Simeon 
Macpbail, John Coventry, Jaiaes Gall, David Brown, Donald 
Fraser of Inverness, A, Moody Stuart, A. Macmurchy, A. N. 


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ALONE. 195 

Somerville, H. Williamson of Huntly, Brock of Clifton, Wm. 
Pennefather, and James Wells; Admiral Otter, Dr. Graham, 
Messrs. James Adam, Ledbitter, Hargrove, Drysdale, Reed from 
Australia, Daniel, and Smith, with many others. 

To preparation for her class, now open to all, her 
strength was devoted for twenty years. The Saturday 
was wholly given to it. A paper published on Satur- 
day was recommended to her, but she said, "I could 
not take that paper, it would break in on my 
Saturday." She would spend the forenoon in the 
garden, and be alone after an early dinner till five, 
the hour of meeting. She then came down to the 
dining-room, seated in front with low forms for the little 
boys and girls, higher forms behind for the older 
children, and chairs round the sides for the friends 
whom she invited, or who asked leave to come. The 
frequent singing of hymns kept the little ones from 
becoming tired. The hymn-book was often changed 
during these twenty years. She knew how young 
people liked variety, and invited any friend who might 
be staying with her or passing through Perth to give the 
address. Yet the service was always most interesting 
when conducted by herself From frequent intercourse 
with the young people she had read their hearts 
and taken possession of them. It was often on the 
first night of a stranger's attendance that the impression 
was made which was to be life long. 

Arriving in Perth on a Saturday to conduct a series 
of services, the evangelist generally began his mission in 
her house at that meeting, thus causing a great interest 



196 ALONE. 

to hang around it She held the young hearts for 
Christ, and knew how to throw in a passing remark 
when she noticed anything wanting in the address for 
the special need of her young people at the time. One 
Saturday a worthy man had delivered a somewhat 
formal address, omitting the one truth which her 
own soul lived on, and which had been pressed home in 
the case of every one blest through her — substitu- 
tion: One dying in room of all, with instantaneous 
cleansing through His blood. Had the speaker been 
quite inexperienced or young, she would have added a 
few words, but she was most considerate, especially in 
the presence of children, both in word and look. On 
this occasion there was a pausa She left the room, 
saying, "I am going to show you some flowers." She 
returned with a large flat plate of red and white 
camellias, and, placing them on the table, turned to the 
children, saying, " Little ones, you know it 's just like 
this. Our sins are that colour; we wash, and are as 
white as these" 

A linen cover was spread on the floor of the adjoining 
library; an illuminated text stood against the mirror 
over the black marble mantelpiece, with the words, 
"Forgive us our sins." Round the room were the 
closely-packed shelves containing many old books — 
Latin, French, and Spanish. The globes, with ancient 
stamped leather covers, stood in the comers of the 
room. To this room those whom she wished to 
converse with alone, retired. Once a-week the order of 
the drawing-room was disturbed for the tea-party of the 



ALONK 197 

missionaries and friends who had been helping at the 
meeting. "The little grandchildren," writes one of 
themselves, " who crept in, thought this the pleasantest 
part of the evening. Their grandmother allowed one to 
pour out tea, and another to hand round the buna on 
the white-and-gilt plate, or cake in the silver basket. 
There was no constraint. She knew well how to 
glean from each of the workers stories helpful to the 
young, or gain for the labourers themselves counsel 
from the riper experience of minister or evangelist 
In the long summer evenings the meeting was often 
held on the lawn; from it the children helped to 
carry away the forms. Some could scarcely tear them- 
selves away from the brightness of the group in the 
drawing-room, where the setting sun streamed in on 
the workers as they knelt in prayer or tried some new 
hymn on the piano, before they took leave of her whose 
beaming smile and devoted life were a stimulu? and 
strength in their own labour." 

She lived so much by herself that the young members 
of her class who desired to speak with her knew that 
they would find her evenings free. Important inter- 
views were held alone with the person who sought her 
counsel, and the frankness and abandon with which 
she threw herself into the special circumstances of every 
one, gaining the confidence and meeting the many 
difficulties of young people, were wonderiuL The 
shortcomings of those under her charge were never 
lightly passed over, yet reproof came like a thorn 
among roses. Love went before and love came behind; 



198 ALONE. 

the fault, pressed sharply home, drew forth repentance, 
and the assurance of forgiveness followed. A light 
book read, a foolish song sung, an unbecoming garment 
worn, close intimacy with an unbeliever, untruthfulness, 
never escaped her censure. 

There were instances of deep anxiety regarding 
young persons, for whom she had hoped the best. 
These brought out the depth of her affection and 
interest. The following letter — one of many such — 
was written by her to one who had gone for a time into 
a strict sisterhood : — 

" Dearest Agkes, — Yesterday, when looking over the pages 
of my book, I saw your name. A young woman had called to 
tell me that, at my meeting years ago, Jesus took her for His own 
while I prayed and spoke ; so I looked in my book for her name. 
There was only the bare mention of her name ; but of you, sweet 
Agnes, there was much. I found your lines about Springland 
and of the love of Jesus, and more. In the evening I heard that 
you intend going to the Nuns ! Did not I warn you of this last, 
time I saw you ? Did I not say it would be a heart-break to see 
you in a nunnery ? but you put away and scouted such a 
thought 1 Agnes, to lose the liberty of your Bible, your 
liberty of speech, your liberty of action, and your liberty of soul 
— ^that liberty, best of all, with which Christ maketh His people 
free I You would go and lock the door on yourself, and bar 
these cruel bars of Antichrist behind you! Just when the 
apostasy is sinking, sinking never to rise again, God's Word has 
pronounced her doom. To the Lord Jesus I go for you ; to Him 
I appeal. In Him I trust yet to deliver you. You were and are 
still very dear to me ; but I trust you are dear to Him who ful- 
filled all, bore the penalty, worked out a fall and free salvation, 
not that His own should go to shut themselves up in supersti- 
tion, and will- worship, but that they should follow His footsteps 
and be a blessing to this poor world, seeking to win souls to Him, 
and glorying in His finished work. You will bitterly repent 



ALONE. 199 

this yet, when too late. *Too late' may sound throngli the 
deep dark recesses of yonr poor heart, *too late' to recover 
liberty and usefulness, * too late ' to wod: for Him as He would 
have you work. Gk)d grant that it may not be the forerunner of 
the blackness of darkness for ever. My poor Agnes, greatly you 
are dishonouring Him. Oh that He may yet see the blood upon 
the threshold of your heart, and * when I see the blood I will pass 
over? You have sadly wounded my heart. Alas ! you wound 
His far far more ! I would like to hear from you your own 
thoughts, and I remain as ever, your affectionate sorrowing 
friend, M. Stewabt Sandbman." 

All these wishes were fiilly realised in the end for her 
young friend. 

The Dundee holidays brought back mill-girls, who 
had belonged to her class. The " day out/' were it but 
once in the year, found at her side many a young girl 
in service. We quote from one of the many letters 
received by her from the girls who had been in her 
class and whom she had tried never to lose sight of: — 

" Glasgow, 2nd June, 1868. 

"Dear Madam, — I cannot find words to express the pleasure 
I felt on receiving your kind letter. It brought back the happy 
time when I sat in your meeting, and listened to the words of 
eternal life from your lips. Though years have passed since then, 
yet, while I write, scene after scene passes through my mind, and 
methinks I hear you now entreating us to fiee from the wrath to 
come. Oh ! that all had accepted the blessed Jesus then. 

" My dear mother was brought to Jesus early in 1866, and my 
father soon after, and our home has been made a heaven on earth. 
Praise the Lord for His grace to us. It has grieved me often 
since I came to Jesus to think that, after all I heard you say about 
Him and His love, I was all the time, as you knew, a stranger to God, 
but He found me after many years wandering far from Him. It is 
now twelve months since the Lord made me a new creature in Christ 




Jesus. Afterwards I joined the Churcli with the Eev. A. A. Bonar. 
You said in your note that Glasgow had been visited by faithful 
evangelists, namely, Eev. E. P. Hammond and Bichard Weaver. 
Many will have to bless God throughout eternity for the visit of 
the above named. Many giddy, thoughtless girls have been led to 
think seriously about Divine things. There is a very interesting 
meeting in our own house held every Thursday night, conducted 
by some of the members of the Rev. A. A. Bonai^s church, and 
many souls have been led to Christ there. — I remain, ever 
yours gratefully, Helen." 

The following are notes written regarding her class 
work to a grand-daughter who frequently helped her 
with it 

'^This week it has seemed as if I could not separate the seen 
from the unseen. Well, it will not be strange after all, except in 
degree of joy, to be with Jesus. One feels drawn to His heart, 
and that at last He will draw so tenderly and so powerfully that 
the^oul shall not resist, but leave aU and follow Him to glory. 
He is very gracious in making known to me by so many mes- 
sengers what He is now doing by His own right hand and by His 
holy arm. Much blessing rested on my last meeting. Near me 
sat a stranger girl, with black eyes and a pale face that would be 
lovely if she were in Christ She was quite unaccustomed to 
such a scene, and smiled carelessly during the address. I took 
her aside and spoke to her afterwards, and she seemed subdued. 
Truly, I thought, if the Master wiU give me to see meetings like 
this, I can ask nothing more. 

" In my list of the girls' names I do still, sometimes with fear 
and trembling, put a stroke opposite the name of one who has 
been deeply impressed by the word spoken. Some time after, 
when this has continued, I put a double mark. What joy fills 
my soul when I hear the judgment confirmed by such as know 
their life at home. Two of these private marks I have had to 
erase, though I yet hope for the girls. The Lord Himself knows* 
He makes no mistakes. His eyes are as a flame of fire. He will 
not blot out of His book — 



AliONE. 201 

i< t -^j name from the palms of His hands 
Eternity will not erase, 
Impressed on His heart it remains, 
In marks of indelible grace ! ' 

He will confess our worthless names, our little strength, our per- 
fect weakness. His strength is made perfect in that weakness. 
He will turn the hearts of the very careless parents, brothers, and 
sisters in the homes from which my girls are gathered, and who 
turn to ridicule their coming here. * Why persecutest thou Me 1 * 
He and His are one. My Hugh's favourite verse ere he died was, 
* Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown.' 
He gives no trifling thing to us to care for — a crown, yet it will 
only be valued to cast at His feet — 

" * Not at the crown He gifteth. 
But at His pierced hand, 
The Lamb is all the glory. 
In Immanuel's land.' 

" Isa Scott was at the meeting to take leave, about to go away 
to the nursery of Mrs. Wallace. We commended her to God's 
care. Two sweet sisters were in the library ; their brother was 
killed in an accident. F. seems very satisfactory and happy. 
The chapter read was blessed to G. I sent her and other new 
girls, with whom I had been speaking, to their homes imder the 
care of Isa and Christina. ... I don't know that I should write 
it all even to you, dearest M. But ask your friends to pray for 
blessing on my life here, lonely as, after Edinburgh, it seems." 

To the same — 

" He was with me on Saturday when I saw seventy, including 
my helpers, come in. You may know how I inwardly realised it 
to be His work and not mine at alL Subject : ' They called His 
name Jesus.' The promise was given to Eve. Then the flood, 
the cities of the plain destroyed, the dispersion of Israel ; all 
happened as judgments upon sin. At last He came, the babe 
in Bethlehem, Emmanuel, God with us. He looked down all the 
ages. He saw all He should save, He saw you in this room to- 
night See Him, the same Jesus as when He called the children. 



202 ALONE. 

and said, ' Suffer them to come tmto me.' He bids ns bring you 
to Him. In concluding I supposed a case in speaking to the 
older girls. You refuse Him to-night, you go away without Him, 
your life henceforward will be observed — after I shall be gone — 
by others. They will see the head of a family without Jesus, 
then growing old, the dying day comes— no Jesus, no peace — the 
remembrance of such an one going back, it may be to this night 
I cannot follow her further or hear how Satan mocks and torments 
to all eternity. You know my only wish in so speaking is to lead 
you to take Jesus as a Saviour. Then shall we together join the 
white-robed company, bear the palm and cast the crown at His 

And again — 

" Last Saturday it rained heavily and on leaving this the poor 
wee things who were wet when they came, had, I fear, to walk 
home in a thunder-shower. Mr. Taylor <5ame and spoke well. The 
same address given here before had been useful to C. M. who was 
still here to hear it again. We sang * Come to my heart. Lord 

Again — 

"The great weakness from which I have been suffering is 
wearing off: surely the Lord has wondrous restoring power both 
for body and soul. He the source and the spring of health, 
nothing is worth the having when He is not felt to be the main- 
spring of the joy. The moment we look to the creature for that, 
it shrivels into nothing. Often if weak and oppressed the 
enemy seizes the opportimity to distress the soul, casting in 
doubts of Jesus and His love— a love that cannot falter, a love 
that is indestructible. Well, the enemy only lays us to our rest on 
Jesus' bosom, helpless as a child, helpless as when first we lisped 
His name as our salvation. 

** On Saturday last I had to remain in my room till near the 
time of my meeting, and awoke from a short sleep so faint. I 
looked up at my text over the mantelpiece, my eye fell on these 
words : * I will not fail thee nor forsake thee ' (Josh. i. 5), I 
got new life and went down. Had thirty-five girls. E. Balmaui, 


ized by Google 

ALONE. 203 

Agnes, and myself. I was able to speak &om Josh, i.^ especially 
on the departure of Moses." 

Again, on Christmas day : — 

** Preparing for my annual party for eighty-five girls. Besides 
my other preparations for their recreation, the ' Old, Old Story * is 

printed on card-board foi? each, with a copy of 's little book. 

I have diligently spread it abroad, and have still a hundred. 
Love to Hugh, who will not be loved the less for his name, among 
his Manchester friends. I see an awful hurricane at Buenos 
Ayres, but I daresay that tomb * will be undisturbed amid the 
waste of waters which prevail over the country, I felt your 
letter to be doubly kind coming this morning. Many, many 
happy days to you in Him whose name has been given to this 
day; many know but the name, I fear. Many blessings you 
have received since you were saved fix)m death, near where you 
now are, that night on the railway : best of all to be made a soul- 
gatherer. I did feel it desolate last night when, alone here, 
I thought of you being so far away. But you know it becomes 
natural to me to be alone, and to rejoice in being not alone, but 
with Jesus. How precious He is to me ! I got a great blessing 
on Saturday at my meeting ; a deepened feeling of sin, I trust. 
There seemed to be an awful realisation of our vileness in the 
prayer of Mr. Moir after all were gone, Jesus is sufficient to bear 
one up imder this conviction of sin. Though to be alone with 
God is what I need for my work, yet sometimes the spirit faints." 

^'Spbinglavd, /anuary 4. 

" Dear Dr. — I will seek to remember you to-morrow, and on 

the other dates. I intended to write and tell you about your 

books being given to the children, but waited to speak of the 

following Saturday, eighty-two in the room. My own four lovely 

grand-children stood at the door to receive them. was in my 

arms, and handed, from trays ornamented with evergreen, your 

pink, and green, and gilt, gorgeous-looking books. Then ^'s 

little books in green bands of my children's making, and each 
hynm tied with a knot of ribbon in four colours. The two eldest 

* Her 8on*8 (prave. 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 

204 ALONE. 

gave the bags with fruit; and what seems to have most struck the 

children was little ^*s earnest *Come to Jesus.' I spoke on part 

of Luke xii., ' Bags that wax not old* — on the comparative worth- 
lessness of the best we can provide here to what we shall have at 
His coming, when he shall come forth to serve His people. Miss 
W. spoke on entering the Ark, and how to reach it by Christ, the 
Bridge. I got to Perth for the first time since June, to visit the 
young widow. A fortnight before he died he asked her to play 
and sing — 

' How sweet the name of Jesus sounds/ 

and the last day she repeated — 

'How bright these glorious spirits shine.'" 

She began the New Year's volume of her journal, — 

" Above the stars that shine in golden glory, 

Above the cahn sweet moon ; 
Up the bright ladder saints have trod before thee — 

Soul, thou shalt venture soon ! 
Secure with Him who sees thy heart-sick yearning ; 

Safe in His arms of love ; 
Thou shalt exchange the midnight for the morning. 

In thy fair home above." 

Young ladies sought her company; one of them 
writing under the impulse of first grief after the 
announcement of her death, says : — 

. " The dearly loved one, now in glory with her Lord, was no 
common friend. The intercourse I was allowed to have with her 
I shall look back on with a hallowed, chastened joy. The bright 
smile which lit up that lovely countenance told fully of the holy 
peace within. The tender, loving words of counsel spoken to the 
young disciple treading the same path, though so far behind — 
their comfort and their strength shall be long remembered. The 
holy breathings of soul were wafted straight to His throne as we 
knelt lowly at His feet The lovely and sainted mother who 
had so long and closely walked with Him, besought powerfully 
the needed grace for us, still young in the Christian life. These 



ALONE. 205 

are holy memories now* May that long life of shining faith and 
bright consistency, crowned by the triumphant death, stimulate 
each of us to follow her in so far as she followed Christ, leaving 
such glory-streaks behind.* 

The almost involuntary prayer united in with every 
individual with whom she was left for any length of 
time alone, was one great charm of intercourse with 
her. She literally believed the promise of Christ, 
"Where two or three are gathered together in my 
name, there am I in the midst of them." She had 
learned from past experience of the omission of such 
social prayer, and from the present blessedness of its 
enjoyment, what loss is sustained by all who resolve to 
forego it, and restrict prayer to morning and evening 
family worship. An hour had to be spent with one or two 
Christian people — ^their anxieties, their joys, their needs, 
the same. Must the time be all spent in conversation, 
in laying plans, in discussing difficulties, in talking about 
other friends ? Ought not the invisible almighty 
Promiser of His special presence to the two or three 
seated together, gathered in His name, to be permitted 
to speak one sentence of His Word, and be spoken to 
in prayer ? She believed it ought to be so, and acted 
on the belief. 

When unable to walk farther from home than her 
gardens, she still went on market-days to the road 
outside the grounds with little books or coloured slijs 
printed with hymna None were given away without 
a word spoken that could not be forgotten. Her striking 
appearance in her mourning dress and her sweet smile. 



206 ALONE. 

arrested attention and won the heart. The following is 
one of many proofs of the permanence of impressions 
made by a casual meeting on the road : — One day she 
met a young man to whom she had spoken before but 
did not now recognise, and asked if he knew he was a 
sinner, and whether the burden was removed. To a 
further question: "How long since?" he replied, 
" Here on this road, that day you spoke to me, two 
years ago." 

The groimds of Springland descend in terraces to 
the broad river ; on the opposite bank lies the extensive 
green meadow of the North Inch, which formed for 
many years the favourite resort of the town children 
on Saturday afternoons. In summer time the river 
tempted them to bathe, although the eddies and uneven 
bottom made this unsafe, and bathing accidents were 
not unfrequent. A shrill cry,''followed by shouts from 
the bank, " A boat, a boat !" told that life was in danger. 
In a few seconds the Springland boat was in the river, 
and in a few minutes more the body, dripping and 
senseless, would be carried up the steps to the Tower. 
In July, 1867, one of the most painful of these sights 
was witnessed. The body of a young man from Dundee 
was carried up from the river, water dropping from 
his dark hair. The boat returned, bringing his father 
and little brother. Mrs. Sandeman was there. More 
than once she had stood by to see personally that every 
possible remedy was used, and had sometimes had the 
satisfaction of seeing life restored ; but in this case Dr. 
Bower, who lived near, said there was no hope. Those 



ALONE. 207 

on the bank had been admiring the young man's 
prowess as a swimmer; but, coming from shallow, half- 
tepid water into deep water, the sudden cold had over- 
come him. Mrs. Sandeman cut a lock of hair for his 
mother; his father withdrew with it, leading away the 
little brother by the hand, as he sobbed, " I cannot go 
to my mother without Willie." The coffin-bearers, the 
father and his friends, came next noon. Mrs. Sande- 
man joined them and offered prayer before the com- 
pany wound along the path by the Tay and left the 
grounds. She afterwards learned that two persons had 
been lastingly impressed as the result of her interview 
with the mourners that day. Lives were still saved by 
that boat, till the bathing ground was moved farther up 
the river, and life-preservers hung not far apart. 

One of the most interesting events in this period of 
her life was the annual recurrence of the Perth Con- 
ferences from 1862 onwards. The idea of these con- 
ferences was taken from the meetings held under that 
name at Mildmay. Those at Perth were begun by 
Colonel Macdonald Macdonald of St. Martin's, the Rev. 
W. Pennefather, and the Rev. John Milne. As time 
passed the work extended, and is now in the hands of 
a large committee. 

Mrs. Stewart Sandeman succeeded in interesting her 
class to its youngest member, as well as her grand- 
children, in the return of the first Tuesday of September, 
on which day the Conference began, until recently 
changed to the second Tuesday of that month. When 



208 ALONE. 

the older members of a family are engrossed by 
the labour devolving on them at such a time, young 
children are apt to be set aside or sent out of the way. 
The elasticity and love of her nature led her to the 
opposite of this. The following notes, supplied by one 
of her grand-daughters, who as a child was always with 
her on such occasions, describes these conferences as 
they were shared in by the children at Springland : — 

" Grandmanmia used to measure her years by 
these bright seasons, which she called her New Year 
time. While strength was equal to it, early summer 
found her planning how to accommodate the largest 
number of guests. To her grandchildren in the country 
the Conference was the great event of the summer. The 
younger ones generally went down only for the day. 
They had by that time saved up some money to spend 
on toys for themselves, and on little presents for their 
Sabbath classes or the poor. There was something 
delightful about the six o'clock breakfast, the drive 
through the birch woods in the crisp September air, with 
just a hint of coming autumn visible among the leaves, 
and the morning sun streaming into the coupe of the 
Highland train, while the meeting with young friends 
at each station from other country homes, added to the 
gaiety of bright young hearts on the way to Springland, 
Grandmamma was found presiding over the second 
breakfast, gliding queen-like from room to room, helping 
the little ones, and interested in all their work and play. 

Before eleven o'clock we were all seated in the City 
HalL To get there, there was first the run down the 



ALONE. 209 

newly-shom terraces and over the grassy bank to the 
Tower by the river-side, where the boat lay moored. 
It had to come and go once and again, rowed by James, 
the gardener, or by some of the Conference visitors, 
till all were on the opposite bank. After this we 
crossed the North Inch, and soon were among the little 
groups which kept gradually swelling as we passed 
through George Street, St. John Street, and then 
turned in by the fine old church of St. John's, to the 
City Hall. It was an interesting moment when the line 
of speakers was seen emerging from the side-room 
and slowly ascending the platform stair.- Grand- 
mamma only came to the evening evangelistic meeting, 
bringing there many of the girls of her class, and 
hoping to train them to the same work among girls 
of their own age, in which she had been so successful 
in the autumn of 1860. In later years when she 
was unable to be present, the children hurried home 
with notes of the addresses, which they knew she 
would specially prize. Sometimes they found her 
on the garden-seat, before the ivied wall among 
beds of fuschia, heliotrope, and geranium; some- 
times in the drawing-room receiving visitors; if the 
blind of her room were drawn down, we knew she 
was resting for the afternoon party. Only three years 
ago we remember her in her black satin dress and 
mauve cap welcoming us to the drawing-room sofe, and 
eagerly listening while we read to her Mr. Stevenson 
Blackwood's stirring address on the Rent Veil. 

For three days the long dining-table stood stretched 



210 ALONK 

to its last leaf, with a side-table for the children, and 
spread from noon till supper-time for all who chanced 
to come in. The best flowers from the garden and 
heather from Bonskeid, came in to garnish the heavily- 
laden table. 

To many these Conference dinners at Springland 
were the happiest hours of three happy days. Strangers 
from all parts, invited often at a moment's notice, soon 
felt themselves among friends. The very shortness of 
the two hours of interval stimulated the enjoyment, and 
forbade formality. But if we began to think that she 
herself was the happy centre round whom we all 
gathered, a look, or sign, or word, asking for prayer or 
hymn, made us feel that she was only a steward receiv- 
ing in His name, and that the Unseen was the One 
whose presence was most realised and counted upon. 
Next her, at the head of the table, for many years sat 
Lord Kintore ; and near her were sometimes Lord Cavan 
or Lord Radstock, Rev. Sir Henry W. MoncreiflF, Rev. 
W. Haslam, Admiral Otter, Messrs. Grant of Amdilly, 
Brownlow North, or Gordon of ParkhilL In her pre- 
sence the conversation could never for very long diverge 
from the great centre. At the close of dessert, the 
children carried round the hymn-books ; and after we 
had sung, she asked one and another to pray, some- 
times adding herself a special petition. The singing 
would have been nothing without her; her voice 
always rose above the rest. Music charmed her 
to the end. The parties continued when she was no 
longer equal to the fatigue. But when, three years 



ALONE. 211 

ago, the sweet tones of Mr. and Mrs. M'Granahan, 
from America, reached her room through the open 
window, she rose at once from her so&, and her stately 
figure glided in to her own old place in the dining- 
room. To us, a Conference can never be the same 
without her. But could she now open the door above, 
and let us hear the songs which satisfy her ear in these 
halls of Sion, should not we, too, be eager to leave our 
places here and worship yonder ? 

After tea and coflFee in the drawing-room, there was 
the rapid scattering, and then the hurried footsteps 
heard on the gravel, of the friends hastening to be in 
time for the evening evangelistic meeting. Some dis- 
appeared by the winding path down to the river, others 
by the short avenue, past the large holly-tree, through 
the little brown gate, to go round by the bridge. Hap- 
piest, perhaps, the one who kept watch at home with 
Grandmamma These evangelistic meetings, addressed 
by Mr. Haslam, Dr. Mackay, Harrison Ord, and others, 
were her special interest. When no longer able to 
attend them, her eye would be on the ormolu clock 
with the blue figures on the white dial, which slowly 
ticked upon the Sienna marble mantelpiece, keeping 
her in mind of the different stages of the meeting ; or 
she would rise to sit in the bow-window, and look out 
to the west with its wealth of beauty. How often, by 
land and sea, have pilgrims travelled by that pathway 
•of the setting sun, to find, as it were, their heavenly 
fatherland half-way 1 As we together looked on the 
fiky of molten gold, mirrored in the gleaming water, and 



212 ALONE. 

away beyond those purple Highland hills appearing 
through the gaps in the waving branches^ it seemed a 
fitting gateway to the * transparent glass ' of the street 
of the city with the jewelled foundations. A hymn, 
accompanied by herself at the piano in the gloaming, 
often broke the stillness of the time, until at length 
returning footsteps and voices in the porch were heard. 
At the supper-table, her keen desire was to hear firom 
those who had come from the hall, if there were any 
fresh instances of impression. 

All too soon the morning of Friday, the day of part- 
ing, arrived We were glad to think that Grandmamma 
would not at once be left quite alone, as some friends 
lingered in Perth to attend the various conferences 
on evangelistic work held on that day, and to prepare 
the tea-meeting for the poor at night. Also until 
quite lately there was the interest of arranging for the 
Saturday class. For her these special occasions were 
only conspicuous links in an unbroken chain of the 
same happy activity. One by one each took leave of 
her in her own room, and in the corridor we still 
heard some loving message sounding from her voica 
From the carriage our eyes once more met hers as she 
stood at the window waving good-bye ; and though we 
could not hear her voice, the heavenly expression on 
her face, and the finger pointing upward, were more 
than any words. We treasured them up as the fitting 
close to these happy gatherings." 

In the course of this Memoir frequent extracts are 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 

ALONE. 213 

made from the journal kept for forty yeara It may not 
be without interest to describe what was so well known a 
feature to all her friends. As we write, there stand before 
us forty-three portly quarto volumes, with broad, massive 
backs, half-bound, some in brown, some in black leather, 
altogether containing about fifteen thousand pages of 
manuscript and printed matter. In the stirring years 
which preceded 1843, stirring in the ecclesiastical world 
both of England and Scotland, the manuscript and ex- 
cerpt record was begun. In it she preserved from day to 
day the things that chiefly interested her^ making large 
contributions from newspapers or journals, and often 
letters from friends. The first volumes were almost 
entirely devoted to the rise and growth of the Free 
Church, and the brave struggle of ministers and people 
in its early years. Full accounts also were kept of 
evangelistic work throughout the country, and every- 
thing that reached her relating to the advance of 
ritualism and popery was embodied. For some time 
one side of the open page was headed Pro, the opposite 
Contra, which meant to her the forwarding or the 
hindering of the truth. 

In the beginning of 1859 she seems to have been led 
to pray constantly for the revival of religion throughout 
Scotland, and on nearly every page of the book we find 
the record of hours spent in such prayer. In the years 
that follow, it is almost entirely filled with accounts of 
the work of grace, either written by herself, describing 
the work she saw going on in Perth, or taken from 
newspaper reports of meetings, or from letters of friends 



214 ALONE. 

having the same interests. The names of Rev. J. 
Mibie, Messrs. Radcliffe, Brownlow North, Grant of 
Amdilly, Matheson, and Weaver occur continually. 
With untiring perseverance she preserved, morning by 
morning, every incident and conversation which came 
within her knowledge. Very often when any event, 
private or public, interested her deeply, she would 
write down in verse the thoughts which filled her 
mind. Upwards of four hundred such fugitive pieces 
are scattered through these volumes. 

As years went on, her "Book," as it was always called, 
became more comprehensive in its contents. Turning 
over its pages, we find newspaper extracts, speeches in 
Parliament, striking events, news from the seat of war, 
royal visits, anecdotes of personal courage or daring, 
with here and there a cartoon from Punch, Everything 
that interested her was put in ; anything with life and 
movement in it, anything with a touch of earthly love or 
zeal or energy, but above all, anything in which she felt 
the direct breath of the Spirit of God, and recognised 
His special working, whether in public event or private 
life, in great national disaster or in the simple faith of 
some little child. On nearly every Sabbath, after the 
time when she ceased to be able to go to church, we 
find a prayer, chiefly of intercession, for those who were 
able to go out to work, whether in church or class or 
meeting, at home or abroad. If any clipping were made 
from the Christian or other Sunday paper, it was 
always kept to be gummed in on Monday morning. 
How well-known to her children, and still more to the 



ALONE. 215 

grandchildren, who came on eagerly-anticipated visits 
to Springland, was the straw-twisted basket which con- 
tained the needful implements for this morning work. 
All neatly placed together lay the pen, the pencil, the 
scissors, the paper-cutter, and the thick pad to keep the 
newly-gummed pages from sticking together. Every 
morning at 7.30 the early letter's were brought to 
her bedroom, along with the Dundee paper^ the first to 
reach Perth, Before that hour she had read from out 
of her Bible wherever it opened, in the fresh morning 
air from her window, which was kept open through the 
night, unless the weather was severe. In a very short 
time, sitting up in bed, she had skimmed the paper, 
rapidly run over the chief contents to any one who 
chanced to be there, breaking in with her own commen- 
tary. If prayer had not preceded, it followed this bird's- 
eye view of the past day, or the forecast of the present 
one. Noteworthy events were sometimes transferred 
to the quarto volume even before eleven, when, with the 
second post, she had the Edinburgh paper. In youth 
a Conservative with all who then surrounded her, she 
became, before the Disruption of the Scottish Church, 
strongly attached to those who favoured it in the State, 
and indignant at the treatment experienced from the 
Conservative Government of the day by the Church 
whose claim was supported by the ablest Scottish judges. 
Lords Cockbum, Jeffrey, and Moncrieff. During the 
last years of her life she returned to the political 
predilections of early days. 

In 1863 she wrote to her son Frederick: "Frank 



216 ALONK 

advised me to make an index for my book ; so, though 
you feared I could not, I have got five volumes done. 
It is a labour first paging it and then arranging the 
hay-stack, and getting the needles put under pages in 
the list ' Shure an' it wad be in the Index Expurga- 
torius' if the Pope had it, and me in the fire, for it is 
all anti-popery together, enlivened by anecdotes of 
work and death-beds of believers. How it brings up 
the past ! The next volumes will be trying, as I have 
only reached 1853." 

The book was continued for over forty years, and the 
last entry was made in her own writing— no eye-glass 
needed — not fifteen hours before her death. The long 
array of massive quartos are so many witnesses to her 
tireless desire to preserve for use in the future the daily 
ongoings in Church and State, and her wish to chronicle 
the progress of God's kingdom on earth. They have 
been repeatedly ransacked, and have yielded material 
in letters and other records, otherwise unattainable, for 
more than ten memoirs of eminent Christians. Miss 
Anne Whittet,* whose labours among the colliers 
at Hillhead, near Glasgow, are well known, was a fire- 
quent visitor and fellow-labourer. David and Frederick 
Sandeman had for months been successively missionaries 
to these colliers ; while resident there. Miss Whittet, 
who knew the people, and never worked anywhere 
without leaving indelible marks behind her, was the 
coimsellor of both. Miss Marsh, Miss Bonnycastle, and 

* For a short memoir of Miss Whittet, see " A Pitcher Broken at 
the Fountain." Messrs. Nisbet & Co. 



ALONE. 217 

Miss Armstrong were also helpful to Mrs. Sandeman in 
her work. 

The following gleanings are from her Journal : — 

"10*^ Aprilj 1863. — On the Prince of Wales' marriage she 
wrote verses beginning : — 

" England keepeth holiday, 

England in its pride 
Goeth forth in fair array, 

Forth to meet the Bride, 
And the Prince, whom, all her own, 
She loves more than crown or throne." 

" IQth April, 1863. — ^A party meets here to celebrate Frederick'fi 
marriage to Katherine Charlotte Wollaston. Most of our family, 
young and old, are at Shirley. The telegram has come. All 
I have asked for Frederick has now been given him. Yet it were 
unnatural to say there is no wound ; I may have made an idol, in 
my desolate years» of the one devoted to me, so long my companion 
through the great revival work of the City Hall, when we were so 
much together. To-night we shall use the same sheet of hymns 
they used at Tremona at the wedding. The party are now meet- 
ing downfltairs." 

"Edinburgh, January, 1868. — ^Have heard Sir James Simpson 
in the Assembly HalL Many gentlemen came in with him ; the 
haU was crowded an hour before the time. He spoke nearly an 
hout ; his words were at first very sweet, persuasive, and telling. 
Then he showed how the course of men, in spite of God's displayed 
love, was hell-ward, Satan-ward. * How the devils must marvel 
at their own success as the lost, one by one, or in crowds come 
down. How they will wonder as they look on fools who have 
lost such an offer of mercy and pressed past the last barrier set 
on the precipice brink. What a terrible stake you are playing 
for, thoughtless sinner ! The game will be played out soon.' 
His voice came down to a wtisper for lowness, but was distinctly 
heard from a distant comer. To encourage those who work with- 
out seeing result, he said : * Not long since I got to a railway 



218 ALONE. 

Btation, in Yorkshire, at midnight The station-master was there ; 
I did not expect him to know me, but he came up and shook hands, 
saying he could not forget an address he had heard in this hall, 
since it was for him the turning-point.' " 

" 26th, — ^The ladies' prayer meeting was resumed here on the 

sixteenth, at twelve. was helped to speak from * My thoughts 

are not your thoughts.' We felt the reality of Jesus to help, of 
Satan to attack and to be overcome. Ladies came from aU parts 
of the town, walking on the ice, for they could not drive in such 

** 2nd February, — I had to take the first part of to-day's meeting. 
We remembered the China Mission, and asked blessing on 
parcels of Bobert Annan's Memoir to be sent to bands of masons, 
plasterers, and plumbers. One of the most soothing occupations 
of mind is to dwell on the memoirs of those who have passed 
away, whose labours are ended, but who may thus still be used, 
and in getting material for which I have done something. I would 
give praise that ever they lived to labour in Scotland and elsewhere, 
and that I was permitted to join with them so much in prayer 
and get the answer and somewhat to soften the rough path 
for them. I am ready to lose heart in Edinburgh, everybody 
else blest, and I without my home-work ; I can find nothing to 

"Springland, 21st March, — Took the meeting all mysell 
Seven new girls ; I asked one little stranger : * Why do girls come 
here V * To love Jesus,' was the answer. Subject — the thrice- 
asked question : *Lovest thou Mel' I read to them part of Mr. 
Hammond's book, * The Child's Guide to the Happy Land.' Some 
seemed very careless. I took them to the library." 

" 3rd Jfay.— Much encouraged at my meeting. At a loss for a 
subject ; in the morning I mislaid ^1, seeing the servants on 
their knees searching for it, I resolved to take this as a subject — 
the woman sweeping the house for the lost piece. Destined the 
£1 for an object, and just after espied it on the floor, so it has 
been twice useful. We are preparing for Mr. Hammond's visit." 

Again : — 

" While conversing with some girls in the library, I heard a 



ALONE. 219 

low knock at the side door and wondered what it could be. A 
little girl stood there. I thought she waited for a sister. ' Who 
do you want 1 ' I said. * I am wanting Jesus.' " 

Again, she writes paxt of the address given to her 
class one evening : — 

"God's eye of fire is looking in on each heart at the easily 
besetting sin. When a girl, my mother wrote to me that already 
she thought I must know what root of bitterness was in my heart ; 
I did not like her saying this. Away with it to Jesus, whatever it - 
be ; He by His Spirit can take it away. Then run — not 'stand 
still,' and yet He bid us 'stand ;' it is not walk, and yet He 
bids us walk with God ; but here is something that will suit 
you children better — run. To run the race — the narrow way — 
with patience. Ah ! that is not soon learned ; I think it is some- 
times not learned until near the last. That race is run in a 
difficult and narrow way ; sometimes imder clouds of trial, some- 
times in bright sunshine of Jesus' love, and now again in shady 
places and with footsteps sinking in the mire. Still, are we not 
coming up out of the wilderness leaning on the Beloved ? At 
other times the road is very solitary, but the footprints of Jesus 
are all the way along, we are looking all the while unto Jesus." 

" IQthAugtLst, — ^We have been praying for poor J , the nun, 

that the cruel bond may be broken. To obtain greater nearness 
to God and power with Him in behalf of others, may we press on 
past our acquaintance, companionship, unto Him alone who can 
grant our requests. Let us overcome by the blood of the Lamb. 
Let me live as one who bears a blood-bought name, and who in 
Christ lays claim to the glory prepared. May my children and 
grandchildren be all blest in their work. Since our Lord comes 
not yet to the admiring gaze of His poor Church in this wilder- 
ness, exiled, alone, let Him be revealed to faith in greater near- 
ness. May we become exclusively His. The desolation and the 
solitude of life assigned us should lead to this, to be satisfied if 
I have the King himself alone in house and heart Other links 
have to be severed that the one glorious chain which unites unto 
Thee may be felt ail-powerfully drawing us. The night-watch 
does seem long and weary ; those loved ones I began it with are 



220 ALONE. 

nearly all gone. Jesus HimseK consoles me even now as I j>ass 
througli the vigils of a midnight watch. — Amen." 

"23rd. — Messrs. Clesham and M'Gee, who have worked so 
faithfully among the Roman Catholics here, spoke in my church 
at Bonskeid. The views of the glorious works of God, but far 
more of His work in redemption among some men working there, 
have cheered them." 

" 20^^ October. — ^Yesterday I had a call from Mr. of . 

How gracious to send him, my Lord. He knew long ago that 
I used to pray for his conversion. I told him to-day that when 
we drove to the open-air meetings, 28th August, 1860, past the 
old post-ofl&ce, he was standing reading his letters, and it was laid 
on me to pray more earnestly for him. That very week, I believe, 

visitors were at attending the meetings, one of whom was 

blest to awaken an interest in his mind. Speaking of how many 
are going home, he said, * There is room for us alL' I prayed. 
I spoke to an old Roman Catholic vendor of wares, among the 
rest, strings of beads with huge crosses attached, of which he said 
downstairs, * If ye have these on yer neck ye can live as you like.' 
I told him of Jesus' sacrifice as the only way of salvation, and 
asked if he was saved and rested on Him 1 ' I hope so.' I said, 
' But I'm sure,' and striking the rosaries, I said, ' Thaf s the devil's 
work,' and left him. He looked at me with a strange mixture of 
surprise and humour, exclaiming *Eh !' I returned, and solemnly 
spoke about the priests and Jesus only. As he went downstairs 
he said, * The lady is right ; it is Jesus only can pardon sin.' 
Spoke to a sweet boy of fifteen, who seemed joyfully to receive 
the tidings. I saw another selling artificial flowers, and a third 
poor boy wandering about selling laces and acorns also. I have 
been tried by having had to distribute my poor Peggy's little pro- 
perty and the articles in her house. Letters to her from all my 
children found in her desk and box, with pretty lines on Mr. 
Sandeman's death, which, I believe, she must herself have 

The Rev. Edward Payson Hammond and Mrs. Ham- 
mond were guests at Springland during two months in 
1868. The results of the work then done among the 



ALONK 221 

young in Perth and the country around it were per- 
manent. It was a time of deep enjoyment to ministers, 
elders, and people, who united in welcoming and for- 
warding the work of this eminent evangelist. The 
lawn at Springland was repeatedly the scene of his 
work. Mrs. Sandeman afterwards sufiFered from over- 
exertion, and from that time was unable to receive many 
guests to reside at Springland. Mr. and Mrs. Sankey 
were the last whom she welcomed there. 

The thought of the Lord's second coming was often 
before her mind She longed and watched for the 
breaking of the day; and sometimes when ill, she 
would gaze out on the dark sky which should be lighted 
up one day by Christ's appearing in the clouds. She 
studied prayerfully each volume written on fulfilled und 
unfulfilled prophecy as it appeared ; Faber, Elliott, and 
Bonar she could quote from. Every token of God's 
care over Israel she rejoiced in as though the nation 
were her own ; Palestine waiting for a people, and the 
people waiting for a country, seemed always before her 
thoughts. When a child she used to see her mother 
go out with a collecting-card for the Jewish Mission, 
and her wonted remark, " When Russia takes Turkey, 
they, the Jews, will return," left a life-long impress 
.on her daughter's mind; as did a visit paid by Sir 
Moses Montefiore to her father-in-law. The probable 
date of the rise and the predicted doom of the Church 
of Rome were also much dwelt on by her. Very dear to 
her were the names of the Scottish martyrs, especially 



222 ALONE. 

that of Resby, the real proto-martyr of Scotland, a 
follower of Wycliflfe, who was found teaching the doc- 
trines of the Bible, and was burnt at Perth in 1407 ; 
and also that of Helen Stark, who was drowned on the 
25th January, 1 545, in a sack in the Tay. She envied 
them their privilege of thus testifying to Christ 

The singing of hymns was at all times a cordial to 
her; never can we forget the radiant expression her 
coimtenance wore when Mr. Sankey first sung to her 
" The Ninety and Nine." She was unable to attend 
the services in the City Hall in 1874, but Mr. Moody 
came to see her ; the distance of Springland from Perth 
made it impossible for him to be under her roof, but 
she perseveringly followed his course with prayer, and 
chronicled it minutely in her book. 

She wrote to Mrs. Omond : — 

" Springland, lOth June, 1874. 
"My dear old Friend, — Yours just come this morning. 
Mr. and Mrs. Sankey left me yesterday, after spending nearly a 
fortnight. All I have heard, and the little I have seen of the 
work in Perth, since Professor Martin j&rst came and began among 
the young with the city missionaries, tends to make me believe 
that a great blessing has descended among the young. At noiy 
own meetings during the past month, new, bright faces — ^big boys, 
fourteen to sixteen or so — ^have appeared. Then came girls from 
Sharpens School ; one of these, srfter going to Glasgow, and con- 
verted there, sent in a petition for a school-fellow, which was 
answered. The first-mentioned of these has. Miss Kippen tells 
me, been the means of leading thirty of the girls. Last Saturday 
Frederick, who rejoices so much to be with us, spoke. I held 
the second meeting, and conversed with twelve or thereabouts 



ALONK 223 

who came from Perth, impressed at the meetings of Moody and 
Sankey. Many of those seemed to rest on Christ. One of the 
elder girls, speaking of Mr. Moody, said : — * He bade me trust 
Jesus ; I prayed and believed He would hear me, and He did.' 
Each night in Mr. Gibson's church there was a great congregation. 
Mr. Moir, who so often helps me here all through the winter, 
sacrificed hearing Mr. Moody (except twice), and stayed to speak 
to the hundreds in the City Hall with Mr. Sankey. I sent my 
helper and my own elder girls of my class to assist with the 
young. The last night, when tickets were given to gather in the 
careless, many were deeply moved, and Mr. Sankey and Frederick 

remained till eleven ; is blessed exceedingly. The rest you 

will find in the Christian and the Times of Blessing, 

" Miss Whittet has been spending some weeks near Grandtully, 
and my long, lonely cry for that place, Murthly and Stratlibraan, 
has been answered. It was in that district that William Bums 
saw the fathers brought in in 1840 ; now may the faithful minis- 
ters see the children. Miss W. had addressed a meeting of women 
from Revelation vi. 16. All were weeping. At the close an old 
woman said : — * I cannot bear His wrath.' Miss W. replied, 
* You will have to bear it to all eternity unless you take refuge 
in Him who is the hiding-place.' After long thought, the old 
woman said : — * I will take Him, — I have taken Him, — I am in 
the hiding-place.' She it was who came afterwards to her son, 
who was in the next room with four companions, and said : — ' O 
Willie ! take the Man that is the hiding-place ; I have taken Him 
and I am safe.' That night the grand old strath resounded with — 

" * Safe in the arms of Jesus, 

Safe on His gentle breast.' " 

Far many years she had not been able to take any 
journey by rail or carriage ; but in the summer of 1872 
she was persuaded to visit Bonskeid once more, making 
the journey back by carriage. In October she felt well 
enough to proceed to Edinburgh in order to be present 
at the marriage of her eldest grandchild and name- 
sake, Margaret Stewart Barbour, to Professor Simpson. 



224 ALONE. 

" Edinbuboh, Sunday, lOth November, 1872 

"... I can and do praise Thee for the flowers Thou hast this 
season strewn along my path ; for enabling me to see my loved Bon- 
skeid ; for being once more in my own little church, realising Thee 
and those gone home ; for my journey down by the lovely Pass of 
Eilliecrankie ; for the short rest at Bimam Institute, where Sir 
Douglas Stewart, who accompanied me when I travelled north 
in July, showed me the hall, and we drove on the velvet turf 
by the noble river through the varied foliage of scarlet oaks, 
yellow-tinged birch, and tall firs, reaching at last the old castle, 
and alighting to walk along the avenue of auricarias, looking in 
their height like giant sentinels guarding the chapeL" 

The following year she wrote : — 

"28<A September, 1873. — This day last year I was in my little 
Church at Bonskeid, and now I am thinking of the baptism of 
my first great-grandson there. I have been reading the passage 
Luke i. 66 — * What manner of child shall this be 1 and the hand 
of the Lord was with hiiaJ Even so be it with your darling. 
Last night he was prayed for at my meeting. I told the children 
about the baptism. It was asked that very soon it might be seen 
he is the Lord's. God can work in the youngest. The weather is 
lovely ; may the rays of our bright Sun beam ever on his souL My 
mother's written desire was that no descendant might reside there 
without a chapel being built on the groimds, and now her great- 
great-grandson is to be baptised in it, receiving the honoured name 
of James Yoimg Simpson. The text my husband intended to be 
put inside the chapel for me was, * Fear not, for I am with thee.' 

"Monday, — Much was baby prayed for yesterday, I called 
Kitty and Mary up for this just before the hour of baptism. The 
wishes expressed are contained in these lines written five years 
ago, when two of my grand-children were Jmptised on the same 
day, far from each otiier. 

" For children's children, oh, how sweet ! 
My faith and Thy sure covenant meet. 
Thy word of promise makes me bold. 
Firm hold I take and firmer hold. 



ALONE. 225 

As * and * * * repair 
Unto Thy house each bringing there 
A little babe, Lord, present be. 
Lord suffer them to come to Thee ! 
Yes, we believe that promise sure 
To children's children shall endure. 
We lay the little ones to rest, 
Our loving Jesus, on Thy breast. 
That sacrifice on Calvary 
Adam's deep stain can take away. 
Oh ! let them live to know Thy love, 
The Spirif s cleansing power to prove. 
In heaven a family complete 
We do believe we yet shall meet, 
And with unending praises hail 
Thy faithfulness that cannot fail." 

Two years later, accompanying an oil painting, she 
sent the following letter to her grandson : — 

<' ^9th November, 1875, 7.25 P.M. 

"My Dearest R., — I came this day twenty-one years, and 
I saw you a little baby at the Grange House. The Lord has given 
me to see you of age, and now may you abide under the shadow 
of His wings, upholding His banner by His own strength. Many 
standard-bearers have crossed to the promised land. Like William 
Bums, like your uncle David, may you be upheld. With them, 
with our evangelists, and a father and mother working for Christ, 
may we meet with all the other members of our families, yonder. 
May we meet, the battle over, the victory won, no narrow bounds 
to separate from all tribes and kindreds and tongues and nations, 
the restored Jew gazing on the Crucified One, and Jesus' joy fulL 
He shall give the kingdom unto the Father, and the full tide of 
the Spirits infl.uence shall be the atmosphere we shall breathe for 

" Receive the likeness of Grandmamma at nineteen years old. 

" Never doubt one promise of Him whom she has found faith- 
ful and true. — Your loving, M. Stewart Sandeman. 



'zed by Google 

i26 ALONE. 

And again :— 

«27tfc June, 1877. 
" Dearest B., — So you are oflf to Norway. ^ Many shall run to 
and fro.' The old distich, transcribed in my Book, — 

' Type of the wise, who soar but never roam, 
True to the kindred points of heaven and home,* 

will soon be left to myself, I think. Uncle Hugh is. Mamma 
says, the possessor of earliest data about Captain David Sandeman 
who brought shiploads of Norwegian timber to Perth, and Miss 
Ferrier (the cousin) says he had five sons. I have had too much 
to do with my side of the house, and the double genealogy — ^viz., 
from Robert Bruce (my Mother's ancestor) and that wicked 
Wolf (my Father's), to have time for more. 

" Oh ! dear R., grander far to look at our relation with the 
Second Adam. Yesterday, alone all day (servants were busy), 
I sat with Peden's * Sermons,* Rutherford, Dyer, * Titles of 
Christ,' and what joy in singing the triumphant verse of * I 've 
entered the valley of blessing,* *When heaven comes down, 
redeemed spirits to meet. And] Christ sets His Covenant secUJ 
Verily He set it on me by His Spirit's sealing.— Your praying 
and loving Grandmamma, M. S. S." 

And again, alluding to a recent Conference 

address : — 

«/8^tem6er, 187a 
"... Ever since the address on the *Four Suppers,' I, who 
am cut oflf from the Second (the Lord's Table), have just felt 
more and more as if abeady at the Third (the Marriage Supper). 
I told Miss Jessie we should just take our seats there by faith, and 
wait there till all have gathered in. — Yours there, M. S. S." 

And again : — 

"You asked if my Mother^s cheerfulness continued to the 
last illness. When dying she said, * I could shout for joy 1 * That 
was when Aunt Naime knelt by her side, and seemed to see a 
radiance around her dying sister. — Springland, 10^ May, 1878, 
4 o'clock A.M. — ^For R' 



ALONE. 227 

On Sabbath afternoons, after her simple and often 
solitary dinner, she took her Bible to the sofa in the 
comer of the drawing-room. Before night came, the 
particular promise she had been led to accept and draw 
from, as made to her and hers, was marked with an 
initial, perhaps a name, perhaps a date. The quarto 
book corresponding to that date contains the names 
of those who in the week previous had asked a special 
remembrance in prayer, for grace to bear some loss sus- 
tained, for help in a Sabbath's work in prospect, or in some 
diflScult task undertaken. They knew that at that hour 
they were remembered before God. Her grandchildren 
or great-grandchildren might be there, and even the 
youngest was taken into the circle. If they were only 
two or three years old, she would point them upwards, 
and say, "Jesus," and then smile on the open page 
and call it His letter or His word. 

One page written on such a silent Sabbath (jpntains 
a retrospect. 17th September, 1865, had brought round 
with the day of the year the day of the week also, 
which reminded her of that which preceded her wed- 
ding forty-five years ago. Across the Tay came the 
peal of St. John's, ringing out to summon and ringing 
in to enclose the worshippers as of old. She wrote : — 

Forty-five years have passed away 
Since the bells rang out for church, as now. 

I sat alone, as I sit to-day, 
To take on the morrow the marriage vow. 

This very hour they proclaimed me bride, 

And his heart was full of joy and pride : 



228 ALONE. 

There was love, there was joy, in the bride's heart tooi 
Yet clouds were floating across her sky ; 

For an earthly love was a light, 'tis true, 
But the other Sun she could scarce descry. 

And fears vh/uM rise, and a tear would fall — 

'Twas an earthly portion after all. 

The morrow came, the loved were there. 
The bride and bridegroom's troth was plighted. 

Loud accle^nations rent the air, 
The gathered townsfolk cheered delighted. 

A long, a prosperous wedded life 

Was waiting for the new-made wife. 

The scene is changed. For that bride to-day 
The bells ring out to church e'en now. 

I sit alone, with changed array. 
In his house who received my marriage vow ; 

But father and mother, and bridesmaids too, 

And bridegroom, death hath hid from view ; 

Brothers and friends who formed the train, 
The patriarch who joined our hand, 

Three noble sons and infants twain, 
Have followed them into the silent land. 

I gaze on the flood whose ruthless sweep 

Earth's hopes has buried in the deep. 

But my hand is striking triumphal chords. 
And my voice is tuned to a deathless strain. 

For the King of kings and Lord of lords 
Hath bidden my soul be glad again. 

At this very hour He calls me bride 

By a union that ever shall abide. 

No clouds are floating before me now ; 
Yon glorious Sun drives all away. 

No sad foreboding shades my brow 
As I sit me down alone to-day. 

li^t joy's full tide my bosom swell, 

With "Jesus only" all is well. 



ALONE. 229 

A morrow comes. All loved are there ; 

Bride and Bridegroom are on the throne. 
Loud acclamations rend the air : 

An angel- voice cries, ** It ia done ! " 
Eternal bliss is ours to share : 
The Lamb is all the glory there. 

Two little foundlings, Frances and Christina, with 
Maggie, Agnes, Fanny, Jessie, Johnnie, and Jacob, 
formed an irregular class on the Sabbath afternoon. 
They were too young to go a second time to church, but 
old enough to bring her the texts, and even words of the 
sermons preached in the churches they were taken to. 
She took much trouble with these infants, even if only 
three were present, to make the hour interesting, her- 
self leading the hymns, which each child chose in turn. 
Of the petitions it might truly be said-— 

** Prayer is the simplest form of speech 
Which infant lips can try, 
Prayer the sublimest strains that reach 
The Majesty on high." 

One Bible lasted her only a few years for constant use; 
it soon became covered with the underlining of verses 
made precious to her on certain occasions. Initial 
letters and dates were written on the sides. In each 
house connected with her family where one of these 
Bibles now lie, the proof is found of her having built 
here and here and here an altar to the Lord. She 
put into verse the song of Solomon, and was jealously 
on the watch against any criticism which would take it 
from believers' use as showing forth the love of Christ 



230 ALOKK 

to them. The inroads of Rationalism were as much 
dreaded by her as those of Ritualism. Her fervency 
in spirit was equalled by her diligence in business. 
Previous to her husband's death she had done little 
more than sum up 'the weekly or yearly accounts. 
Now she took the charge of all he had left, and made 
herself mistress of the value of stocks and everything 
belonging to him. The trust was ably executed to the 
end. She was ever ready to give advice in such matters 
to those who sought it. 

Her poor were her constant care. In later years, a 
diligent use of knitting pins was substituted, for the 
embroidery needle, and the household seam of earlier 
years — ^which were often then plied with a book before 
her. She chose her colours with great interest. For 
an old friend, returning to take possession of his ancient 
family castle, she knitted a large quilt in the colours 
of his house, to await his arrival. 





WE give the following extracts from Mrs. Stewart 
Sandeman's journals, not so much for their 
individual interest, but as specimens of what 
her work continued to be to the end of life. Her 
journals, as well as her letters, are usually of too personal 
a character to be printed ; indeed this feature of her cor- 
respondence led to much of it being destroyed at the 
time. She wrote to her daughter twice or thrice every 
week, often narrating an entire conversation between 
herself and the visitor who had dropped in on her 
solitude, and ending with such words as these : " This 
is only for you, bum it ;" " I write it that you may 

know how to pray for ;*' " I am sure if that soul 

has not already closed with Christ, it will do so soon." 

" 28*^ Jurw, 1879. — ^A. R., from Upper Springland, came. I 
prayed with him and gave him * M^Cheyne's Life ;' he sails on the 
5th July for Otago. 

" Sth July, — My son F. and his family came. The five children 
got each a copy of my lines by their mother's request, their 
names — Susie, Katie, George, Charlie, and Louie— being put on 
the back. 

"I7*ii July, — ^C. M. came from Normal School. She reads 





well and preaerveB the meaning. I walked, and rested here and 
there, while she read to me from R.'s Poems and Rutherford's 
Letters. The house has to be reformed, both chimneys pulled 
down, back of house painted, and pipes mended. They found 
four vents in one ; mercy no fire took place. Changed my room, 
but the awful knocking sent me for the afternoon to my friend 
Dr. Bower's. 

** 31«« August. — The masons who have worked in the house, 
fourteen men, are leaving. They are most civil, nice men, long 
with their master, I went and spoke to four during the dinner- 
hour in the coach-house, sitting as they were on the forms used for 
my girls* class. The Lord helped me. There were two R. C's ; one, 
Barney, not strict He came and told that he heard Duckingworth 
preach on the street two days, and tell of his conversion, showing 
the wig in which he acted ten years ago in the penny-gaff at the 
old Shore of the Tay ! I had much to do with the stopping of 
that penny-gaff. In the volume for 1870 all is told. Rowland 
HilFs bills were sent by me. Duckingworth then was furious ; 
now he is preaching the faith that once he destroyed. I asked 
Barney : * Do you think he loves Jesus V * Yes, but he does not 
hide what he was.* I added, * I, like him, am a poor lost sinner.* 
He, deprecatingly, would have disagreed. 'Without Him,* I 
added. * Ah !* he said, satisfied, 'without Him.* I forbade the 
giving tracts or periodicals to him ; but he seized one, ' Herald of 
Mercy,* and read it during dinner-hour at the water-side ; so on 
Saturday I ventured to give him 'Called to the Marriage* 
(M. F. B.) ; then Joe, the other R, C, called out as the distribu- 
tion went on, ' Don't ye be giving all the books and hymns to 
Barney,* I met the latter at the drawing-room door, and said, * Do 
you love Jesus better than your Church V * Yes.* * Then He will 
take care of you,* They told me that Joe was to sail next day, 
so I got from my lending-library books — the militia had returned 
them— a small edition of M^Cheyne, with portrait, and said, 'Will 
you take this book V ' Very well, mistress ;' and I added a small 
volume with twelve sermons by Moody. I prayed with him, 
asking that we might meet at the marriage-supper of the Lamb. 
He is a tall fellow in his Tyrol-shaped high cap. He seemed 
touched, and insisted on working here till within a few hours of 




leaving liome. WMle the masons and plasterers were at the 
porch, I opened the piano and left the door of the drawing-room 
ajar, and sang, * Jesus the Water of Life will give, freely, freely, 
freely,' followed by * Hold the Fort.' The men listened. Ere 
they finally took leave of Springland I sent a copy of * The Soul- 
gatherer ' to six of them, and told them about the authoress and 
the subject of engraving. They said, ' Thank the lady.' I miss 
them, though thankful the noise is at an end." 

'* October, — A young Jewish boy of thirteen came selling shoes, 
and told the servants, ' I am a Jew, I won't believe in Jesus.' 
I sent for him, and asked, * Do you believe in the Messiah? ' * Yes,' 
he said, but repeated the above sad declaration. * Well,' I said, 
'Jesus was more like the Messiah than any other ever was. 
I believe in Jesus ; and, if you are wrong. He is coming in the 
clouds, and eternity is very long.' He spoke of the three 
synagogues in London, Edinburgh, and Manchester, where he had 
been. I, too, told of my visit to that in London, described the 
gallery where I sat and saw next pew the young Jewesses with 
the Hebrew on one side of the prayer-book and English on the 
other. A green silk curtain was drawn aside, while jubilant 
Hebrew psalms were sung and the insignia of the Lion of the 
Tribe of Judah revealed. He was enchanted— he had of course 
often seen it I told him of my comfort in my severe illness 
from words spoken to me on the crucifixion. I asked his name. 
* Joseph.' I repeated part of Joseph's blessing. He enjoyed that. 
I told him that when Jesus was baptised, He came out of the 
water, and the Spirit, as a dove, lighted upon Him, and a voice 
came from heaven from the Father, saying : * This is my beloved 
Son, hear ye Him.' * He was crucified,' I said, * for Jew and Gentile.' 
The boy asked, had I a German Bible, as he could not read 
English? I asked him, 'Will you pray God and the Holy 
Spirit to make you to know who is the true Messiah 1 ' He said he 
would, and I prayed with him. Lord, give light, and let the veil 
fall from his heart. I have also had a most interesting fore- 
noon with an Italian of superior rank to him, and who fought 
under Garibaldi, and am very hopeful of him." 

The substance of her conversation with many indi- 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 

234 U8T WOBE. 

viduals is found in the following lines written for her 
friend, Rev. Dr. W. P. Mackay of Hull :— 

Have yon gotten one look of your heart within. 

Its deep-dyed coimption and blood-red sin ? 

QodCs eye of fire has searched it through, 

Has He given a sight (^ its guilt to you ? 

For the countless sins that you have done 

He bnugeth to judgment for every one ! 

Know you, unsaved one, that you must dwell 

In the quenchless flames of an endless heU 1 

Does the Spirit convince you, condemned and lost, 

Hath hope from sdf given up the ghost ? 

And turns your eye-ball, confused and dim, 

To that Cross where the curse was borne by Him ? 

Oh, never withdraw it ! Look on ! look on ! 

Till the load falls oflF, till the gmlt be gone ! 

Then lift the Spirit-strengthened eye 

To yon throne where He pleads for you on high ; 

Till fuller powers of sight possest 

Show your name engraven on His breast ! 

Joy to thee ! joy to thee, ransomed one. 

For a life in Jesus just begun 1 

We give thee one hour, 'tis passing sweet, 

With pardoned Mary, at His fee*, 

To hear His voice, like opening heaven, 

Tell thee of sin— 7but sin forgiven, 

And then arise- from the feast of love. 

Its newly kindled flame to prove. 

Christians to wake from slumbers dire. 

Poor dying embers set on fire 

(Which by its smile, or by its frown. 

The world is seeking quite to drown), 

'TwiU move them sure to jealousy 

Thy glowing, strong first love to see. 

Then away, away to the lost, and cry 

A Saviour for you / Oh, why will you die 1 




JFpr none can to sinners speak so well 
As the newly saved from death and hell ; 
And the one whom grace has last set free, 
Can sing the loudest " Christ for me." 

To her daughter, who had been absent, she wrote : — 

Ut Odoher, ISVQ. 
"My own only beloved Daughter, — ^Welcome with your 
husband back to Scotland. I have to exercise faith instead of 
sight so many a time, when I would fain have earthly friends 
near me, I trust it is to be sight to-morrow, and that I shall 
have you to myself again. — Your own, M. S. S." 

The society of her grandsons from Stanley, two or 
three of whom stayed with her from Monday to Friday 
during the session of the Perth seminaries, cheered 
these last years of her life. It reminded her of former 
days with her own boys. She was keenly interested in 
their amusements as well as in their studies, and had 
them in her room each morning just before they left 
for school to read her a chapter of the Bible, after which 
she prayed. 

The winter of 187&-80 was exceedingly severe, and 

she, writes thus to one of the many young men in whose 

University work she interested herself: — 

*' From the bank of the still Tay, frozen over, as last year, with 
the hoar-frost — which always pierces and tries me — all around, 
I write to-day thankfully for the measure of health granted ; the 
cold may yet become so keen that for me, as for very many old 
people, the life-strings may snap ; as yet it only intensifies the 
prayer for those who suffer so much more than we do. 

" * We lift the tearful eyes 

From the hills our fathers trod. 
To the quiet of the skies, 
To the Sikbbath of oor God.'— Hbmans." 




The evening of Sabbath, 29th December, 1879, will 
long be remembered throughout Scotland from the 
terrible disaster of the Tay Bridge. Springland bore 
traces of that dreadful night's work Her own lines 
tell the story of the fall of a favourite tree, the largest 
of the cedars of Lebanon at the foot of the lawn : — 

She who came the news to tell 
Said : No human hands so well. 
Or so fitly, on earth's breast 
Could have laid it down to rest 

As girls we oft had played 

Beneath thy shade. 

The day when first I knew 

Their brother loved me true, 

Twas under thee, 

6 Cedar Tree ! 

'^ Soon he brought me as his bride, 
Ever clinging to his side, 
Who had seventeen summers seen ; 
And these summers oft, I ween, 
Saw three sisters fair with me. 
Underneath the Cedar Tree. 

Came there then with after years 
Mother's cares and joys and tears. 
One upon the Indian shore. 
One deciphering China's lore. 
One beyond the Western sea. 
Sought no more the Cedar Tree. 
Notes of triumph borne to me 
Told in * death' of * victory.'* 

♦ The Stewart motto, "Victory op death." 

Digitized by LjOOQIC 


Ever since, through lonely days, 

Now that all have left my side. 

In silence and in prayer I've sat, / 

Beneath thy branches, my pride I 

Evangelists have shared 
The care and the reward ; 
So many souls were won 
For jewels in Christ's crown. 

And still through every year 

The words of earnest cheer 
Beneath thy spreading shadow have been spoken ; 

And children's children played 

And grew up while thy shade 
Kept a sweet summer's coolness all unbroken. 

It was but yesterday, 
I looked forth, and, as aye, 
Still saw thee stand, old Springland's pride, 
With overarching bough — 
How shall I see thee now 1 

For that tempest-Sabbath came 
That overwhelmed the fated train 

In Ta/s deep waters. 
And by the selfsame blow 
Our Cedar was laid low, 

The fairest of Tay's daughters I 

The verdure, like a veil, 

Shrouded from view 
The shattered giant trunk 

On which it grew. 
But, the fair branches lopped. 

From every pore 
The wounded tnmk gave forth 

Its treasured store ; 
Aroma was exhaled from every wound 
Of the great giant prostrate on the ground 




We guessed not what a wealth of sweetness lay 
All through the decades of thy long, long day 
Unfelt, until the pierced heart laid bare 
The overwhelming perfcune that was there. 

Poor crushed and fallen tree, 

Low at our feet, 
Thou fill'st the very air 
With incense sweet. 
" The scent is as the wine of Lebanon," 
Say passengers in going on their way, 
Oh ! thus bereaved Heart, 

Let all around 
Find sweetness from the smart 
Of thy deep wound. 

Build ye on no tree here, 

So spake the Scottish seer ; 

They all must fall at last, 

Till time be overpast. 

Oh, hush thy grief to rest 

Upon His faithful breast. 

And come up through the wilderness. 

Still blessing, and still blest. 

To her grand-daughter she wrote, alluding to her 
secluded life : — 

** You know I must now take any little work I can get and be 
thankful for it.* Yesterday I was being measured for a velvet 
jacket — ^patterns sent ta choose from. I spoke to the dressmaker, 
till both she and I fairly forgot the velvet, and she carried it 
away unchosen. I was telling her I hoped that by Monday when 
she came to fit it on she would have on a robe of righteousness. You 
remember the story of Lady Lucy Smith, who wished to know if 

* Her physician forbade the continuance of her class after an illneia 
in the autumn of 1878. To the end of her life, any one sitting by her 
on a quiet Saturday afternoon when the clock struck five, might observe 
a tear escape at the remembrance of her life's work being over. 




her little daughter really understood about imputed righteousness, 
and asked her to explain her own idea of it The chHd said, ' If 
I were to put on one of your gowns and lie down in it, your maid 
would come in and say, ** There's her ladyship;" so I must put 
on Jesus.' I told her this story. I had to send again about the 
velvet She was charmed with the hymn I sang to her, and had 
tears in her eyes." 

Begarding a gift of garnets she wrote to the same : — 

" The garnets now possessed by you, my Marga, were worn by 
my grandmother, Mrs. Oliphant of Gask, daughter of Kobertson 
of Struao. She was very lovely, so that when in Paris with her 
husband, holding her baby-boy in her arms on the threshold of 
the court of their house, peopk turned round to gaze on her. 
That little Laurence died. So my mother became the eldest of 
the family, and accompanied her parents to Spain. My mother's 
conversion took place about the time of the death of her sister — 
Mrs. Steuart of Dalguise,— an event she sadly mourned for. 
She wished to present to my father a copy of Scott's * Conmientary * 
in five volumes ; but not having money enough to lay out in that 
way, she sent the garnet necklet of their mother to her sister, 
Mrs. Keith, and requested her to sell it in Edinburgh, This gift 
took place in 1815. Mr. Keith was much attached to us all ; so 
instead of selling it he valued it at the jeweller's, and his wife 
remitted the price to Mrs. Stewart, not explaining his interest in 
the transaction. On the Bible is written, ' A gift from M. Stewart, 
1815, to her dear husband, and after him to their daughter, 
Margaret Stewart' When I was visiting my aunt, Mrs. Keith, 
Edinburgh, about the year 1826, she took out a jeweller's box con- 
taining this garnet necklet, and revealed her husband's part in it, 
saying she thought that instead of leaving it to me she would now 
give it to me. I am glad it is now in the possession of the great- 
great-grandchild of the lovely daughter of Struan Bobertson, 
from whom I derive my Christian name." 

Passing over two years, daring which her Journal 
contains many extracts similar to those quoted above 




we come upon the following interesting reference to the 
authorship of the " Land o' the LeaL" 

" 29th December, 1881. — A young friend came to-day, and men- 
tioned that a minister had quoted in his sermon the * Land o' the 
Leal ' as having been written by Bums. But I told him that Lady 
Naime, who wrote the song, was on a visit to my parents, when 
I, her niece, was a young girl. I said to her, * Aunt Naime, you 
wrote the " Land o' the Leal," ' — having picked up words of Mrs. 
M'Gregor, of Balhaldie, to my mother to that effect* ' Maggy,' 
said my aunt with strong emphasis, * that was treachery. Some 
one stole from the table of rdy friend, Mrs. Colquhoun, of Killer- 
mont, the MS. of the song, addressed in her name to her husband 

JohnJ So I recited to-day, at Mr. ^'s request, the right 


" Lady Naime never told her husband of the authorship, lest 
he should own it to be her composition. She said, * I have sat 
at the head of the table with a gentleman on my right, and another 
on my left, declaring Bums the author.' Now the authorship is 
well known. She added a stanza to the song, years after, begin- 

'Sae dear^s that joy was bought, John,' kc 

The songs were corrected by herself, and published after her 
death under the title of * Lays from Strathearn.' 

"10*^ June, 1882. — This volume was begun Ist March. It 
ends with praise and prayer ; — upraise for God's presence with me, 
and for being enabled to speak to many persons, and point them 
to His Son. ' I was able to write lines on the birth of the baby 

at C , and to correct and print for private circulation, at the 

request of my family, lines written in 1866, entitled * Marriage 
Bells.' I am thankful for the comfort it has brought to the 
afflicted both in soul and body. Lam grateful for the arrival of 
my beloved cousin, M. H. Steuart, from the Cape of Good Hope. 
Let us have Thy presence all the days of her visit, and Thy bless- 
ing resting on the circle gathered to welcome her. Mrs. Oliphantj 
from Gask, and the children of Charles and Frank, are coming 
with their parents. She lost last year, 29th December, her only 
brother — my dear cousin John Steuart^ of Dalguise. This has left 




her free to visit us once moie, — k long hoped-for, yet scarcely 
expected joy to me. When her brother heard a sermon without 
Christ in it, he said as he left the Church — * They have taken 
away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him.' 
Soon after that he died and went to that Lord. I must ask her 
to play me the ' Spanish Chaunt,' — she used to play it; the nuns 
in Spain played it long ago. Also I so love * For the strength of 
hills we bless Thee, God, our father's Qod ' (Mrs. Hemans). 
It is set to beautiful music. 

^^ Afternoon, — Cousin has played variations on the piano with 
execution, and composed at the moment She played the ^ Spanish 
Chaunt' On Sabbath, she had service for the servants in her 
room, reading Matthew iii, with comment on each verse. 

'^ I do also record my thankfulness that it has been given me 
to believe for many, and for the fulfilment of my mother's daily 
prayer, that all my prayers for all my descendants be heard, and 
even this request of hers, that all in whose spiritual welfare Qod 
should lead me to take an interest may be saved. A far-reaching 
prayer ! Go on to answer it, and though some may for a time 
seem to go back, they may be turned again. I have seen two or 
three do so. Let cdl my descendants look to Thee for counsel in 
all their ways, and let them be imited to Thee in Covenant bonds. 
So shall they be ready to testify unto Thee in life and in death, 
or to Thy coming again." 

The annual review of the Militia on the North Inch 
interested her. She remembered when it was first 
called out during the Peninsular War. Her cousins 
and young friends were then either engaged abroad or 
lending their services for defence at home, while her 
husband had served in the yeomanry. In the Volunteer 
movement she took more interest; her youngest son 
being Lieutenant-Colonel of the 1st Forfarshire Artil- 

** 9th July, 1882.— Yesterday Frank brought officers, who had 





been camping out at Bairj to get the guns' places fixed for Satur- 
day next, and they got tea in the boat at their request Then he 
brought them to see the house and the old lady of it. He had 
read to them the ' Marriage Bells/ ^ The Cedar,' and now the lines 
to my grandson C. on getting my husband's 'Sandeman' medaL 
They were crying, it seems, and his own voice was faltering as he 
read. I told them before they left that Jesus is my all, and they 
heard with interest of the quiet little work still given me to do 
for Him. On leaving, they said they would remember me. We 
are to have the Commissariat on Saturday next, when 500 
men, with the officers and their friends, are to be my guests for. 

But these arraDgements having been made, and 
repairs and painting being necessary at Springland, she 
was prevailed on to leave her house and grounds free 
for the use of the officers and men, and come to 
Bonskeid. She had not been absent from home for 
ten years, and thus the happiness was afforded to her 
Highland friends of seeing her once more in the 

" Bonskeid, 10^ August, 1882. — I am here for my third visit 
during thirty years. I have "been sitting on the old iron seat 
under the sycamore tree, planted for me by my father when I 
was six years old. One of these larches I lifted when it was 
a seedling from the Hill Park at Perth, and carried it home to 
the Watergate garden. There I kept it as long as my father 
would allow, till he brought it north with him to the spot 
appointed. Forgan wishes to know how long it is since the oldest 
larches were planted ; it must be nearly ninety years. The first 
were brought over by Menzies of Culdares, from the Tyrol, 
in 1738. Mr. Lumsden, of Fincastle, has just been here, and 
wishes me much to drive up there. I told him about Fincastle 
as it was when my father's cousin. Colonel Stewart, had it ; and 
how, when in London, the Guards saluted him, from his likeness 
to George HI." 




Again: — 

"This morning Mr. Barclay, of Formosa, Cldna, came to say fare- 
well. He presided last night at a Missionary meeting at Pitlochry. 
Mr. and Mrs. William Milne, from Calcutta, paid a delightful 
visit She has forty British sailor boys, to whom she gives a 
tea every Friday night, presided over by one of themselves. 
Miss Marsh called, I was much interested in what she told me 
of her work among the soldiers and sailors. We could scarce 
part, but there is no separation to believers." 

Regarding this visit, Mr. Milne wrote six months 
later from Calcutta : — " I am so glad that we saw her 
twice last summer. First, it was at Springland, where, 
in her own quiet waiting-room, she spoke with ecstacy 
of one who had recently trusted Christ in that chamber, 
and of her own desire to see Him very soon. Nothing 
in the Psalms of David or in the Letters of Rutherford 
could exceed the impassioned earnestness with which 
she spoke of the joy of seeing a wicked woman come to 
Jesus, and her own vehement desire to see Him in 
glory. She looked to us then to be literally burning 
through the earthly tabernacle, and it seemed as if her 
escape could not be long delayed. But when we saw 
her again, in your absence, at Bonskeid, in the drawing- 
room, on that brilliant afternoon, waiting to receive a 
visit from Miss Marsh, she appeared moving about with 
healthful grace, just as if she had received a secret 
intimation from the heavenly Bridegroom that she was 
to tarry till He come. We should like so much to hear 
how the summons came. Another cedar than that of 
which she wrote so touchingly has fiiUen on the banks 
of the Tay ; but who may tell the fruit that has yet to 




be gathered in firom it to the praise and honour of 

"31«« August, 1882.— To-day I have heard of the death of my 
friend, Anne Clark. She and her sister Catherine were at Miss 
Kemp's school at Newcastle, having gone there on my mother's 
recommendation. They have visited me almost yearly since.'' 

She wrote : — 

"My Beloved Catherine,— What a shock I got when 

told me that our darling's going home was in the newspaper. It 
was truly a blow to me, and sore to me on your account, after 
your other bereavement, and in your delicate health But, oh ! 
how blessed, blessed for her ! I came here six weeks ago to 
avoid the roar of artillery on, and above, and opposite Springland. 
In spring I was confined to bed from the easterly winds affecting 
the throat much. But I had wonderful cases, as I do believe, of 
conversion, or of hopeful impressions in almost every one who 
came to my bedside, one of them a poor girl who had gone astray. 
Praise the Lord with me for each one awakened, and for each 
one brought to the point. Oh ! my Catherine, what a rush of 
memories towards the past does this loss of yours and mine bring! 
May I hear that you are borne up. Some one will kindly write a 
note, if it be but your maid." 

The Journal continues : — 

"4i^ September, — Yesterday the communion was dispensed in 
my little church It was north wind and stormy, so I was unable 
to go. Mr. G. Barclay has had several temperance meetings in Pit- 
lochry, at which an Episcopalian clergyman, passing through) and 
a CongregationaUst, along with others, took the blue ribbon. The 
Bishop of Liverpool and Mrs. Ryle called here; a delightful 
visit and prayer before he left. Sir Robert and Lady Sandeman 
called ; with few have I the same tie as to him, revering the 
memory of my dear husband as he does ; may his course in India 
continue to be as useful as heretofore. Very sorry to hear of the 
death of Andrew M*Donald, surfaceman during fifty-five years on 
our turnpike-roads. He was so well that day he died ; he wondered 




often who should go first, he or I. He thought he should. He was 
glad of my message last week. He bade Jeanie go to bed lest sh 
take cold. When she looked in to see him next, he was gone. 
Mr. Bannerman, my minister, had the service at the house, and 
gave thanks for his translation, improving it to those present" 

Many of her visitors were received under the shadow 
of the sycamore, beneath which the Tummel flows 
rapidly. She divided her out-door hours between 
it and her other old friends of the forest during the 
nine weeks she remained. Her love, always intense 
for the scenery around Bonskeid, made her greatly 
enjoy the following lines by Dr. John Brown, " On the 
Tummel at Moulineam." They were new to her 
having been published within a few months of the 
author's death : — 

" Past runs the sunlit Tummel, 

Strong from his wilds above, 
Blue as * the body of heaven,' 

Shot like the neck of a dove ; 
He is fresh from the moor of Rannoch, 

He has drained Loch Ericht dread, 
And mirrored on Carie's waters 

Ben-y-Houlach's stately head ; 
He has mourned round the graves of the Struans, 

Hid in the night of the wood. 
He glides by the pleasant slope 

Where our old Dunalister stood. 
Shiehallion has heard him chafing 

Down by his sunless steep. 
And has watched the child of the mountains. 

Deep in his loch asleep. 
He's awake ! and off by Bonskeid, 

He has leapt his falls with glee. 
He has married the swirling Qarry, 

And they linger in Faskally." 




On the day of the annual tea-party for the people, and 
giving of prizes to the school children taught in her own 
chapel (which she kept in her possession when the rest 
of the property was transferred), she sat in the drawing- 
room on one side of the archway for the folding doors. 
On the other side sat Miss Steuart of Dalguise. As 
each child passed, a greeting was received from both. 
Mrs. Sandeman, in putting the reward assigned to each 
into his or her hand, added a striking sentence, such 
as, " Be Christ's good soldier ; " " You have a mother in 
heaven, follow her;" "Make sure of an interest in 
Christ Jesus now, or no heaven hereafter;" "Take 
Him for your own — is it to be now ? " To those who 
received a copy of the " Scots Worthies " for the per- 
fect repetition of the Shorter Catechism she said, 
"Remember the prize of the high calling;" "Run 
hard for the reward ; " " Make for the Golden Gate." 

While at Bonskeid, as at home, she delighted all in 
the evenings with her music. When asked to do so, 
she was ready to play, without notes, reel, pibroch, or 
lament, and any of the Scotch airs to which Lady 
Naime had composed songs. These were always fol- 
lowed by hymns, of which [her stock seemed inexhaust- 
ible. If any one present did not know of the sacred 
associations which these hymns had for her, she would 
stop and describe them. For instance, she would tell 
that, during Mr. Moody's visit to Perth in 1874, there 
was found among the inquirers in the City Hall a poor 
girl from the country. She was in anxiety and distress, 
and a minister set the way of life before her, and 




advised her to go home and read the 63rd of Isaiah, 
and pray ; " I canna read, and I canna pray," she said, 
"Would He not take me as I am?" From this 
incident the well-known hymn waa written — 

" Jesus, my Lord, to Thee I cry ; 
Unless Thou help me, I must die : 
Oh, bring Thy free salvation nigh, 
And take me as I am ! 
And take me as I am ! 
And take me as I am ! 
My only plea, — Christ died for me ! 
Oh, take me as I am !" 

Her first great-granddaughter waa bom, 13th July, 
the morning after her arrival, and named after her. 
She wrote lines at the hour of the baptism in Edin- 
burgh of this first name-child in a new generation. She 
received the little Margaret Stewart in her arms next 
afternoon when her parents brought her to Bonskeid. 
The school children spent the evening in the grounds, 
to be present at the first meeting of four generations. 

But for the anxiety of friends hastening her return 
to Springland on the first morning of frost, she might 
have lingered on to the end in that dearer home. She 
could scarcely tear herself away fi:om the beloved soil. 
The aged people from the Glen came down to say good- 
bye. For all there was the one greeting and the one 
benediction as they parted. 

We have hitherto avoided quoting at any length 
from her voluminous quarto Book ; yet it seems right 



24f8 LAST WORK. 

to give one specimen of the minute, clear register of 
persons seen, news heard, and sustained eflfort to make 
her house a happy one to all who entered it These 
notices of two days are considerably abridged : — 

" Springland, I4th iSfeptemften— Enjoyed the drive to Pitlochry, 
Left for some time alone in the ladies' waiting-room* A young lady 
sat near me, kind and sweet looking. I found she was one of the 
friends of Jesus. Asked if she had" sisters and b^ged her to be 
sure to speak with them often of Him, offering a short prayer for 
blessing on us both. A gentleman came for her and said, * Your 
train is starting. How I wished I could have spoken to many of 
the people with their unhappy faces. The station-master assisted 
us into our saloon carriage, speaking kindly. For a moment 
I saw Dalguise and Murthly Castle, old and new. At Dunkeld 
heard of the victory of Tel-el-Kebir — excitement and a fight for 
newspapers. Solemnly we gathered to listen to the telegrams with 
indescribable interest No one waiting at Stanley; they did not 
know we were passing. A peep of Scone Palace, then Springland. 
Drove round by Tay Street, my first sight of it My husband 
and I offered the Watergate ground free, and two hundred pounds 
to begin that street, but for years and years the magistrates 
would not entertain it, till we lost hope. Observed Mechi's blinds 
down — my name-child Stewart is to be to-morrow laid in the 
grave so lately closed over his grandfather. Passed Mr. P.'s beauti- 
ful place, the old toll, and now we were out of Kinnoull parish and 
in Scone. Drove up to my own gate. A welcome from all. 
I asked the gardener's little grandson, ' Have you minded what 
I said to you about Jesus when I left]' *Yes.' Found Dr. 
Somerville's card, very sorry to have missed him. He said in 
leaving it, ' I do not see the one face I used to know ; I want her 
prayers for me ; I am going to Africa.' Two friends from Mr. 
M'All's Mission at Paris came yesterday hoping to stay here, M. 
showed them the place and told them where they would get 
lodgings, not so easy during the Conference. My daughter has 
gone to the Ladies' Breakfast to say a word. 1 wept with joy 
when Condie and Fred met me at the door, so glad to see them 




again. We had all supper together, with delicious pancakes. 
Very sorry to have missed Mrs. Oliphant, Gask. Miss Steuart, 
Dalguise, is in Yorkshire at Tong with Tristram and May Eicketts, 
and comes to me next month. This glorious victory has cost us 
some of our bravest, each regiment striving to be in the front. 
Bravery has characterised our troops. Alas, the Egyptians have 
lost two thousand men. When shall war cease ? Mr. B. has been 
constant in prayer for the troops in the East, for the widows and 
fatherless weeping while the rejoicings go on. 

"16^ — ^Last night saw Messrs. Donaldson and B from 

Paris. The latter is a Frenchman by birth ; he goes north to-day 
to speak in my little church. Inquired of his history.- His 
mother was an earnest Christian. In youth he had been thinking 
for three months about her prayers for him, but always expected 
some light to shine, some miracle to be wrought None came, and 
he got discouraged. One night he resolved to seek Christ, the 
enemy of souls said, ' Qo to bed or you cannot be up to look after 
the working men.' Then he resolved he would not go to bed till 
he had hold of Christ. Peace so deep and real came that he could 
not sleep for joy. Miss Bower has sent me splendid grapes and 
melons, with kind inquiries for me on my return. Dear Miss 
Mackenzie came to see me ; her sister Miss Penuel used to be 
always here at the Conference. We spoke of one very dear to her 
buried near my sister-in-law, Margaret, at Rome. Permission 
was asked in old Pope Pius' time to have a text put on the grave, 
' I am the Resurrection and the Life.' The answer came, * Never 
should words from a Protestant Bible be put on a Protestant's 
grave even in their own burying-ground.' At last he said this 
text might be put on her grave, because they were so good to the 
poor, 'Blessed is he that considereth the poor, the Lord shall 
deliver him in the time of trouble.' And they left it so. When 
she returned to Rome, she went to see the grave ; it had been 
beautifully kept She asked the Roman Catholic who kept it, 
* Could that text, " I am the Resurrection and the Life," be put 
on it now.' Said he, * There is nothing to hinder. Rome is free, 
and our King could say nothing against it' So it was done. She 
observed my David's picture and thinks it very like him. I told 
her how he and Frederick stood before that old Pope Pius while 



250 ' LAST WORK. 

he blessed the kneeling people in the Basilica, St Peter^s. The 
Pope was arrayed in white. David opened his little Greek Testa- 
ment, and showed Frederick the words, * He as God sitteth in the 
temple of God showing himself that he is God.' When Miss M. 
sat with me Susie and Anna came ; Susie came for a dinner 
dress she had left here ; I sent with it the grapes and melons. 
Mr. Cowan was here ; we talked over old days of the great 
revival work of 1860, and the durableness of the work then 
done ; his entire staff of teachers in the Sabbath Schools of 
Pomarium Mission were fruits of it Testimonies to the abiding 

nature of the work in 1840 reach me stiU. Mr. said, after 

returning from years in the Colonies, he never was for weeks 
in any town but some Perth convert of 1840 found him 
out Mr. Cowan asked me what I had given him to preach on 
when I die ; he had forgotten it I said, * He hath abolished 
death.' He was charmed with all the news from Bonskeid. 
I gave him the printed pieces of poetry, and he gave me a 
magazine with one of his on ^ Mary at the grave of Jesus.' Julia 
S. and her father came. I read them my notes of the Bishop of 
Liverpool's sermons." 

The Rev. Robert Cowan of Elgin, alluded to above, 
wrote thus of the visit referred to in the Journal : — 

"I found the old sprightliness, vivacity, and buoyancy 
still shining in her noble and beautiful countenance as she 
spoke of the faithful, uncompromising sermon preached by 
Dr. Ryle in the Parish Church at Blair, and of opportunity 
found by herseK of seeing souls won to Christ It was the 
day I took leave of her to go to Elgin that she said 'she thought 
I would have remained in St Leonard's to preach her funeral 
sermon.' Nor did I feel any hesitation in asking her at our last 
interview to remind me of the text, which had escaped my 
memory. She at once replied with ready energy, *He hath 
abolished death ;' but perhaps you will not need to preach it, 
perhaps He will have come Himself before then." 

In October, Miss Jane Lindsay, of Edinburgh, a friend 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 


of her youth, spent an afternoon with her. They went 
over the long past together. Mrs. Stewart Sandeman 
began with her first recollection, unrolling the whole 
panorama of her life thereafter up to their meeting on 
that day. While Miss Steuart, Dalguise, and Mr. R 
N. Fowler, M.P., were at Springland, she read, in a 
newspaper paragraph, the agitating news of the coach 
accident to her grandson-in-law, at Braemar. Fol- 
lowing her anxiety regarding the issue of this, came 
the death of Miss Eamer Sandeman, her first cousin 
and exactly of her own age, 19th October, and that 
of Miss Ferrier, who stood in the same relationship, 
aflTecting her much, bringing the unseen world, into 
which they had entered with joy, very near. 

A birthday letter to her youngest son, dated 20th 
October, was as follows : — 

"Beloved F.,— Words are quite powerless to express what 
your mother feels on this anniversary. I have been reading over 
some little poetic effusions written for it in former days. All my 
love to you and yours shall ascend for each in prayer, and dwell 
in my heart unto my last breath. And the certainty that by His 
covenant faithfulness we shall all spend eternity together, shall 
gild the entrance into the dark valley, unless He shall come 
suddenly ere then. I finish now with these words about a love 
which He gives as an emblem of His own to us :' As one whom 
his mother comforteth, so wiU I comfort you.* 

" M. Stewart Sandeman." 

From the close of this, her last year of work, the 
following list of individuals, in whom she had taken a 
deep interest during 1882, besides those already alluded 




to in her Journal, is extracted under different dates, 
summing up her impressions of the good work she 
had seen in them is taken : — 

^ (1.) Spoke to him. After that, providences and an address by 
Dr. W. had impressed him more. Afterwards I saw him accept of 
Christ Saw him again lately, grown in grace and happy. (2.) 
I have also to give thanks for him ; often spoke with him ; after 
he was at rest doubts returned, but I hope his soul is at peace. 
(3.) Also would give thanks for him, whose terrible failing may 
yet overcome him ; but I am sure the Lord has a grasp of him and 

will not let him finally go. (4.) Young Mr. was staying 

under the roof ; a friend of his, whom he meant me to speak to, 
called on him at the house, but went away before I came down- 
stairs. He sent for him to come afterwards, and he came back 
with his friend late at night Next morning I rose at nine, after 
much prayer for him. After ordinary conversation, being left 
alone with him, I asked, * Have you got Christ ]* He replied, 
* No.' * There is no time to be lost* I have been privileged to 
see many brought to the point as I spoke of the substitution 
Christ has wrought * Are you willing that He shall be made for 
you righteousness, and your sins laid on Him V Silent. * What 
stands in the way V Silent I named cases I had seen, and he 
gazed in deepest interest, his eyes all the while red with com- 
ing tears. I said ' He has begun the work in you by His Spirit. 
He will work in you and He will finish it, but refusing you may 
die. Will you now receive Him ? The Father's face was hidden 
from Him on Calvary because He bore the sins of sinners. Will 
you trust Him 1 and trust Him instead of yourself ; in your 
place V I had prayed for power to be given him, I said, * He 
bears the marks of these wounds up yonder, and you and I shall 
meet Him there.' He said, * Yes, I will.* I then gave thanks. 
What a happy face he had. He went out with his friend and 
came back to say farewell. I remarked on the saying of an old 
writer, * We may shake on the Eock, but the Rock cannot move 
under us.* (6.) Spoke to her in my own room ; asked her if she 
had any of that heavenliness of character which she has seen in 
— . She said she did not know. I said, * But we must know. 




You respectable people -are the worst to deal witL If you do not 
give up your own righteousness, and trust in His righteousness, 
who hung on that cross, you cannot be saved.' Spoke long to 
her, but I fear only enmity may be there as yet. I truly love her ; 
I regretted much that a third person came into the room as we 
spoke, which hinders mucL I hear of nothing encouraging yet, 
but will hope on. (6.) These thirty children, whom I had the 
opportunity of closely speaking to, seem still around me. I com- 
mit them to Thee, but bring them in Thine own way. (7.) He 
was brought to my bedside, well taught at home, and long prayed 
for by me. He came to the point at once. * Have you received 
Christ as yours ]' ' No.* * Then you cannot see your grandfather 
again if you remain thus, for he has gone to Christ ; do you not 
wish to see him again V He burst into tears. At the end of our 
interview I said, * WiU you take Him now V He said, * I will.' " 

Her son Charles and his family spent the Christmas 
week with her, and several of her grandchildren paid 
visits to her afterwards. Each one remarked the 
softening and heavenly mellowness which tinged all 
she said and did. She wrote for the birthday of one of 
them : — 

" For 2nd January, 1883. — ^Beloved pet QRANDomLD, Many 
many happy returns of your birthday. Every blessing rest on 
your head, for time and for eternity, is the prayer of your very 
loving grandmother, M. Stewart Sandeiian. 

" The Lord is my portion." 

During the winter months cold weather had confined 
her much to her room, to which only intimate friends 
were admitted. While she slept one forenoon early in 
February, a young man called, saying he had come to 
bear her the news of his mother's happy death ten days 
before. He had been long abroad, said he must see her, 




and would wait till she awoke. Mrs. Sandeman, who 
had known the lady well in bygone days, sent for hinL 
During the interview he informed her his mother had 
died, as she had for some years lived, in communion with 
the Church of Rome. He began to sympathise with the 
solitude and illness in which he found Mrs. Sandeman. 
" I am never alone," she replied ; " Jesus is always with 
me." He urged that there was a closer fellowship with 
Christ than any she had known. On her asking what he 
referred to, he explained that it was the holy wafer of 
which he wished her to partake ; a nearness to Christ 
would follow of which she could otherwise have no con- 
ception ; the body of Christ would become a part of her. 
The maid noticing her mistress's extreme agitation, 
and anxious to have the interview brought to an end, 
observed that any bread from the baker would be just 
as good, but the speaker persevered. Mrs. Sandeman 
interrupted him with deep emotion : " Christ could not 
come nearer her than He had done, nor could she be 
happier out of heaven." He raised his hands, saying, 
" Anyhow, I have delivered my message." Only when 
she said indignantly, " Who sent you here ? Begone, 
Satan, begone," did he disappear, words of prayer 
and praise to her ever-present Redeemer accompanying 
him out of the door and along the passages. Only 
those who knew her life-long and determined aversion 
to the tenets of the Church of Rome can understand 
how startling and repugnant this proposal must have 
been to her. By a strange incident she was thus 
permitted to testify, as with her latest breath, for the 




truth which waa her life — Christ's real presence, apart 
from Church, priest, ordinance, sacrament, saint, or 

As her eightieth birthday, 26th February, approached, 
all her family gathered round her. Little did any of 
them suppose that she was so soon to pass from their 
presence into that of all she most loved and strove after. 
The trinkets she had not already given away lay in a 
little case, now nearly empty, which was brought to 
each on arrival to choose from. She had given the 
order of St. Louis (conferred by Prince Charles on 
Mr. Henry Naime, and presented by him to her when 
a child) to her youngest son. Prince Charles' ring (a 
gift to his aide-de-camp, Laurence Oliphant) she gave to 
her grandson. When her daughter arrived, the maid 
was bid to bring the box. " Show her the one with my 
Other's and mother's hair," she said. This one was 
quickly chosen. On the evening of her birthday she 
was asked the history of the ring. She replied : " When 
my father arrived with me at Holyrood on my way 
back to school at Newcastle, after my mother's death, 
he was so ill with a threatening of apoplexy as to alarm 
Uncle Naime. The latter was about to send the 
carriage back to town to call in physicians for a con- 
sultation. My father, wishing to have me out of the 
way, said: *Marget, you must not waste your time. 
Go to Howden's on the North Bridge and choose a 
mouming-ring for your mother ; there is her hair and 
ipine/ Before I returned Dr. Abercrombie and Dr 




Hamilton had bled him profusely. I remember his bed 
was in the largest arras room, which the Naimes had 
for their visitors, and which Watson Gordon had par- 
titioned oflf with screens. He sat there propped up 
with pillows, very pale, but said: 'I'll be ready to 
start with you this day week, never fear/ " 

Her last purchases were made from the colporteur ; 
two copies of MacduflTs " Forget-me-not " text book, and 
a volume of Temperance^ songs and ballads, on which 
she wrote her daughter's nama She took wine only 
as a medicine, but for years had scarcely ever required 
it, until near the close. 

She wrote a note to her Bonskeid people, to be read 
at the service in the chapel of the Glen on the 25th : — 

" I am now eighty years of age, and I send you my love and 
prayers and kindest wishes that we may all meet in glory. I am 
glad you meet and conduct the service yourselves in the little 
chapel every Sabbath evening. I have always prayed for your 
meetings there since it was built. I send you the lines I wrote 
when it was built, to be read in the chapel on the eve of my 
birthday.— Your ever true friend, 


HAGGAI i 8. 

On the Commencbment of oub PBEAcmNO Station in 
THE Glen. 

** We have gone to the mountain, and wood we have brought, 
From yon cliffs rocky bosom rude stones we have broken. 
To build us an house for His praise have we sought. 
As our Lord's gracious word unto us hath been spoken. 




" ' For I have commanded your hearts to be strong, 
And quickly a dwelling-place for me prepare ; 
My Spirit remaineth my people among, 
And I will rejoice and be glorified there.' 

" And now in the dust of contrition we bow. 
Poor sinners before Thee a blessing implore. 
That promise fulfil, and Thy presence even now 
Descend and remain on this house evermore. 

" We ask for the souls that shall congregate here 
A finished salvation, eternal and free, 
Let Thy majesty. Lord, to their spirits appear, 
And lead them to Jesus, to heaven, and to Thee. 

" With Thee, Thou Shepherd of souls, do we leave 
These sheep in the wilderness under Thine eye ; 
These lambs of Thy flock to Thy bosom receive, 
When trials assail and temptations are nigh. 

" The vow has been paid and the building is Thine, 
To do with it. Lord, as seems good imto Thee, 
But oh! that Thy work in conversion may shine, 
That ourselves and our children Thy glory may see." 

She handed the note for the people to the overseer 
from Bonskeid, to be read by him to them. He had 
brought down to Springland a box of camellias to be 
ready for her birthday, and she sent for him to her 
room, and prayed with him as she gave the note and 
lines. Her granddaughter from Stanley had just left ; 
she had been telling her of a party there in the 
evening. She sent some of the camellias after her to 
the station, remarking to her daughter, " I hope you 
don't mind my giving your flowers away, but that child 
is so much to me, I wish I could cover her with 




On Sabbath, the 25th, her daughter went, as usual, 
to her room for an hour early in the morning, and 
returned to it before ten to spend half-an-hour there 
till church time. But her mother lifted down her watch, 
saying, " I promised always to keep this hour to pray for 
Dr. Whyte before he goes into the pulpit." She then 
turned aside, a shadow of intense earnestness came on 
her forehead, and she took no more notice of any one 
being in the room. 

On her birthday morning (26th) letters were received 
from all who remembered the day. We publish but one 
of them, because she valued it much : — 

" 24th February, 1883. 

"Dear Madam,— May I add my congratulation to the multi- 
tude pouring in upon you on your birthday morning ] It comes 
from the heart. I think you may be called the happiest person 
in Scotland ; indeed, as. I think of the fulness of interest and 
usefulness God has packed into your life, I am filled with a kind 
of awe and wonder that so much should have been given to one. 
When I think only of one generation and of those in it best 
known to me, it seems to me that Scotland has got no legacy 
in this centiuy more valuable than that which you will leave 
to it 

" But, after all, this is the best— the one unapproachable happi- 
ness — to be a sinner saved by grace. 

" That God may yet spare you long to your great family, and 
make the last bit of the road the smoothest and the best, is the 
prayerfuljwish of yours most truly, J. S." 

The cards and presents lay spread out on trays 
around her. Her sons, Charles and Frank, with Laura 
and their children, arrived. Each of the servants came 
in to see her. She said she intended to have given 
presents to every One ; that she was much too old to be 




receiving them. At night she listened to Forster's 
great speech on the state of Ireland, and then the last 
post brought a letter from another grandchild, written 
in the form of lines for the day : — 

" blest with the best bliss of eaxth, 
Noble by ancestry and birth, 
Our Chief's one child, to whose proud sire 
Each loyal Stewart stood page or squire, 
To whom, through either parent's veins, 
The life-blood of King Robert drains, 
And worthy such, in mood and mien. 
Whose every step betrays the queen ! 

".0 fired with a far worthier blood. 
Child of the gifted and the good, 
Mistress of verse, most skilled to leam 
Song from our Lady of Stratheam,* 
And dowered beyond earth's richest heirs. 
The child of Margaret Stewart's prayers ! 

** blest with the best bliss of heaven 
To whom the gift of gifts is given. 
To tell the praise of Christ abroad. 
To call the wanderer home to God 1 
Long may thy life a beacon shine. 
Kindling in others faith like thine ! 
Long may thy home its title keep, 
A Spring-land to the thirsty lip ! 
For this to-day thy children call 
For thee, the mother of them all I •' 

On hearing it, she whispered softly, " What does the 
laddie mean ? Too much praise/' Yet she did not 
cast it from her, as formerly she would have done. It 
seemed like a laurel wreath crowning her beforehand. 

* Gask, Lady Nome's birthplace, being in Strathearn, the Tolume 
of her songs took its title from thence. 




When her son-in-law and her daughter took leave of 
her, the latter said how sorry she was not to be able to 
stay. "Oh," she answered, "it may be better so. 
You and I always talk so much, you have duty at 
home, and I have Kitty. One thing I don't under- 
stand : I asked Christ to take me that night before 
you came, when I had the faint. Tell me, why has He 
not done it V* " Because we need you still," was the 
reply, "I am leaving you here in faith and trust." 
"Don't say trust," she cried, 'it's victorious peace!" 
These were the last words heard spoken, with the 
curtain drawn between us. 

In the following days she suflFered considerably, and 
slept a good deal through the day. Mr. and Mrs. Banner- 
man came on Friday, bringing a pot of lily of the valley. 
On Sabbath afternoon, the 4th, she told her maid that 
she must not on any account leave her to go to church. 
Standing by" her dressing-table she made the last entry 
in the Book, without the help of an eye-glass, saying 
that she had given MacduflTs "Forget-me-not" text- 
book to her kind physician. Dr. Stirling. The last 
thing she had in her hand was the March number of 
the Bulwark; pointing to an extract in it from Dr. 
Wylie's book, " Egypt and its Future," she said, " Read 
that ; " his book had been read and re-read aloud to 

Her house-keeper, thirty-seven years in her service, 
came up as usual on her return from church, to tell her 
about the sermons, and to bring her a favourite refresh- 
ment the juice of pressed grapes. Her maid was 




bidden bring out the birthday letters of the Monday 
previous, and read them over to her sister. She was 
also told to read the birthday lines received from her 
grandson on the evening of the day. Again she said 
sweetly, "What does the laddie mean? Too much 
praise 1 " She asked for toast and water. The doctor 
had said that much liquid was not good. Kitty was 
handing it her in a small quantity. Margaret said, 
" Give the mistress the tumbler in her own hand." She 
was thirsty, and drank the whole, saying, " Thank you, 
Margaret, for this nice tumbler of water, and for all your 
goodness. Good-bye." For three hours she continued 
speaking of old stories, as her manner was. Once more 
she was tripping at her mother's side through the Grey- 
fiiars burying-ground, not far from the old house by the 
Tay. There she often went with her little basket to gather 
flowers on bright summer mornings, flitting merrily 
from stone to stone deciphering the quaint couplets of 
an older time, indulging her love of rhymes and losing 
all dread of the grave. She went over that night the 
particulars of each death that had happened in the 
family in former and in more recent years, saying in 
what way she should wish things to be done differently 
in her case, and ending with : " Remember, not a sign 
of death mast be in my room when I am gone. Let 
them not bind my hands ; I wish to be ready to rise at 
once. But I think I shall be like my father and live two 
years more yet." 

Later on she bade her maid kneel down beside 
her, and in prayer she asked forgiveness for having 




in the afternoon spoken sharply. Kitty, interrupting 
her, said, "You didn't" "I did," replied the peti- 
tioner, and continued. It was her last audible and 
most characteristic request. 

She bade her little basket of work-things for the 
moroing be brought ; there were spectacles and scissors, 
and paper-cutter, which she used in cutting up the 
newspapers for her Book. Her attendant said she 
would bring them out in good time in the morning. 
The reply was "Bring them at once." At midnight 
she had a biscuit. At five she got up, giving a faint 
cry. The heart had ceased its beating. With one 
glance upward she laid her head on the bed, shut her 
eyes, firmly, and breathed no more. 

Sixteen years before, she had closed her nineteenth 
volume with these lines. They were her motto ; they 
may be her epitaph : — 

" Lord Jesus, I will watch for Thee, 
Whoever say me nay ; 
Thou mayest not come for centuries, 
Thou mayest come To-day. 

M. S. S." 




From the " Perthshire Advertiser^ of mh March, 1S83, 

YESTERDAY forenoon a Funeral Sermon on the 
death of Mrs. Stewart Sandeman of Bonskeid 
and Springland, Widow of Mr. Glas Sandeman of 
Bonskeid, Perthshire, was preached by the Rev. D, D. 
Bannerman, M.A., of St. Leonard's Free Church, Perth, of 
which congregation the deceased had been a member for 
many years. The text was from 2 Cor. iv. 16-18 — "For 
which cause we faint not . . . while we look not at the 
things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen : 
for the things which are seen are temporal ; but the things 
which are not seen are eternal." At the close, he made the 
following reference to the late Mrs. Stewart Sandeman : — 

** Since last Sabbath, as all here know, another of Christ's 
witnesses has passed away from us. When I think of her, 
I feel as if I had been wrong to dwell, so much as I have 
been led to do, on some of the sadder aspects of the truth 
in our text ; there was so much of the brightness of heaven 
about her; she lived so constantly, even here, in the light 
and joy of the Lord, witnessing for what He was to her, and 
would be to others, would they but receive and follow Him. 
To myself it has been a great privilege to know her. 
I knew her to some slight extent before I came to this 

congregation, but of course much more closely for these last 





three years. She was one of whom it was not easy either to 
form a true estimate, or to express it in words when formed. 
She was sometimes misunderstood, sometimes greatly under- 
estimated, as regards her real power and weight of character, 
by those who came in contact with her but slightly and in 
an external way, or who heard by report of some impulsive 
word or action, not knowing how it had been spoken or done. 
Her influence was a thing to be felt rather than described ; 
but it was a singularly powerful one, especially over certain 
temperaments, and in some of its elements, so far as my 
experience goes, quite unique. 

" This is not the place to speak of her natural gifts, very 
high and rare as these were ; nor of what she was to near 
friends, and to that wide circle of her children and children's 
children to the third generation, in all whose interests she 
took part with such warm love, such vivid, untiring 
sympathy. As to the work which God honoured her to do 
for His cause, the day alone will declare it. In active 
labours, while strength lasted, by her classes for the 
young, by personal words of love and eager pleading, by a 
wide and varied Christian correspondence, by prayers night 
and day, she served her own generation according to the wiD 
of God ere she fell asleep. Those pleasant rooms at Spring- 
land, those sunny walks by the broad river, are consecrated 
ground to many a one, and will be while life lasts. She was 
*a lover of hospitality, a lover of good men.' From the days 
of William Burns and Robert M*Cheyne, the days of revival 
at Kilsyth, and Dundee, and Perth, and up Strath Tay, 
through Disruption times, on to the great spiritual movement 
of 1859-61, and the beginning of the Perth Conferences, 
under Mr. John Milne, her house was a centre of evangelical 
life and blessing, the fruits of which remain, and will remain 
through the days of heaven. 

"Many striking features of Christian character met in 

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AI>PfiNDIX. 265 

ker. One was a great naturalness. She spoke because she 
believed, and as she believed and felt. She had a remark- 
able fulness and vividness of Christian experience; but 
there was a marked absence of conventional religious 
phrases. No one could ever suppose for a moment that she 
was saying anything because people expected her to say it. 
She was always herself. To the very end there was much 
about her of the simplicity and natural gaiety of a little 
child. I remember, in one of my visits to her this last 
winter, I happened to say something about the foot-prints 
of a roe-deer in the snow, and she broke out with a verse of 
an old Scottish song, just as a young girl might have sung 
it. And yet with it all there was a natural dignity, a 
purity and elevation of character and spirit, which few 
could fail to recognise. 

" She had, in very full measure, the ' love that hopeth all 
things, believeth all things.' Even to a fault, she leant to 
the side of thinking the best of every one. And yet this 
was by no means a mere indiscriminating impulse with her. 
You might think she came too hastily to her conclusion. 
No doubt she was mistaken once and again — she owned 
herself to have been so— in her hopeful belief that this one 
and that had been truly brought to the Saviour. But it 
was always on certain grounds of evidence which were so 
far satisfactory in kind, if not in degree. And there were 
other persons, as I know well, in whom she had the warmest 
interest but over whom she never thought that a real 
spiritual change had passed. There was much true 
Christian delicacy in the way in which she would allude to 
this, doing it rarely, and with a grave and tender concern. 
But she went on praying for them in secret year after year, 
in strong faith that the answer would surely come^ and not 
be too late. 

"There was in her that mark of true holiness, a great 




and genuine humility. Many a one has gone from Spring- 
land humbledy because she took it so for granted that you 
were on the same level of Christian experience with herself, 
or even a higher one. She did not count hers high — * In 
lowliness of mind, she esteemed others better than herself.' 
To the very end, when she seemed to us living so near the 
gate of heaven, she would have been the first to say that 
she * had not already attained, neither was already perfect.' 
On the last day of her life — although none thought the close 
was so near — she had been suffering not a little bodily dis- 
comfort ; and she prayed at night, with all her own tmthf ul 
simplicity, * that the Lord would forgive her if she had been 

'' I need not say to any one who knew her at all that she 
lived in an atmosphere of constant prayer. There never 
was one perhaps in whom the three clauses of the apostolic 
precept met more perfectly — * Rejoice evermore ; pray with- 
out ceasing ; in everything give thanks.' How many souls 
have been given to her prayers already — some who have 
now welcomed her above to everlasting habitations, others 
serving still here below ! How many may yet be brought 
into the fold, in answer to those effectual, fervent pleadings 
offered for them; who can telll This spirit of believing 
prayer was no doubt the main secret of the Christian glad- 
ness and happiness that so characterised her — of the spring 
and freshness as of young life, which were hers to the end, 
and which made it so hard for us to feel as if the end could 
be near. Something of natural temperament might aid in 
this. That strong vein of true poetic feeling and romance, 
which showed itself in her little snatches of poetry written on 
some occasion that interested her, came out still more strik- 
ingly at times in conversation, in lett^^rs, and, above all, in 
her prayers, which were often just hymns of praise, very 
beautiful both in thought and words. But, however 




natural temperament and constitution might aid, the joy 
was essentially and unmistakably 'joy in the Lord.' It did 
much to commend Christ. There was something singularly 
attractive about it. Even children felt it. Last summer a 
little girl, the great-granddaughter of an old friend, was 
taken to see her, *0h, I would like to stay with 
Mr& Sandeman,' she said as she came away, ' she looks so 

" She gives the key to it herself in some touching lines 
on the 45th anniversary of her wedding-day. In them she 
contrasts the earthly gladness of that day long gone by with 
the sad changes since. Father, mother, and husband — all 
are gone. Brothers and friends, three sons and two little 
babes, have followed them into the silent land. And she 
sits alone now, in his empty house, in her changed array, 
hearing the church bells ring out over the river, as they did 
on that Sabbath, long ago, when they proclaimed her a 
bride. It ends thus : — 

' With "Jesus only ** all is well.' 

Yes, * Jesus only,' that is the secret. 

" And the Lord, in whose service she found such freedom 
and gladness, took her very gently home. There was no 
long suffering, no painful clouding of faculty. Her eight- 
ieth birthday, last Monday week, gathered almost all her 
dearest ones round her, with tokens of love from those not 
there. She was clear and joyous as ever. And then, after 
one more Sabbath on earth, she fell asleep, with scarce a 
struggle or a sigh, closing her eyes herself as for rest. 
None who saw her in her last sleep, that calm noble face, 
with its finely chiselled features, wearing such a look of 
* victorious peace,' — to use a word of her own — can ever 
forget it. She * was not ; for God took her.' So she passed 
from 'the things which are seen and temporal' to Hhe 




things which are unseen and eternal.' * But the same Lord 
over all is rich unto all that call upon Him.' * The Lord 
God is a sun and shield; He will give grace and glory j 
no good thing will He withhold from them that walk 
uprightly.' His servants are taken home when their work 
and witnessing time on earth are over. But* He remains. 
Their faith let us follow, remembering the end of their 
conversation, * Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, 
and for ever.' Amen." 

By the death of Mrs. Stewart Sandeman, of Bonskeid, 
which took place at her residence at Springland, Perth, last 
week, one of the few remaining links between the 
commencement of the century and the present day has been 
severed, while Perth and Perthshire have lost a daughter 
highly esteemed in her family and social life, and respected for 
her literary abilities and philanthropy. Her remains were 
interred in the family burying-ground, Greyfriars, Perth, on 
Friday. In addition to the usual service conducted by the 
Rev. D. D. Bannerman at the house, a short and impressive 
prayer was offered at the grave by the Rev. Dr. Whyte, of 
Free St. George's, Edinburgh (who lately married the grand- 
daughter of the deceased), and a number of Sabbath-school 
children sang her favourite hymn, "There is a happy Land," 
which was joined in by many friends who had gathered 
spontaneously. The funeral was of a strictly private 
character, so far as invitations were concerned. The chief 
mourners were Mr. Charles and Colonel Stewart Sandeman, 
her sons; Professor Simpson and the Rev. Dr. Whyte, 
Edinburgh, grand-sons-in-law, and the grandchildren and 
great-grandchildren of the deceased. The Rev. Frederick 
Stewart Sandeman, Shirley Warren, Southampton, and her 
son-in-law, George F. Barbour, Esq. of feonskeid, were both 




unavoidably absent in consequence of illness. A number 
of the ladies of the family took part in the services at the 
tomb, and covered the coffin with flowers and wreaths sent 
by Sir Douglas and Lady Stewart, of Grand tully and others. 
The interior of the grave was lined with ivy, intertwined 
with snow-drops, and into this last resting-place the body 
was laid by loving hands, representing three generations, a 
good many of whom had gathered at Springland the 
previous week, on the occasion of the celebration of her 
eightieth birthday. Mrs. Stewart Sandeman was the 
daughter of Dr. Alexander Stewart, of Bonskeid, and suc- 
ceeded him in possession of the estates, and as representing 
an old line of the *' Stewarts," which, for five hundred years, 
had passed from father to son* Her mother Marjory Anne 
Mary Oliphant, of Gask (Mrs. Stewart), was the eldest sister 
of Caroline, afterwards Baroness Naime. At the age of 
seventeen the deceased married Mr. Glas Sandeman (a great- 
grandson of John Glas, who founded the Glassites), by 
whom she had a family of six sons and three daughters. 
Mr. Sandeman died twenty-seven years ago at Montpelier, 
France, and was interred at Greyfriars, Perth. The three 
sons already mentioned survive her, also Mrs. Barbour, of 
Bonskeid, the authoress of the *Way Home,' and other 
works. Her eldest son, Alexander, died, a judge, in 
India, while her second son, the Rev. David Sandeman, 
missionary and associate of the late Rev. W. C. Bums, died 
in the midst of his duties in China. In the deceased were 
displayed many of the characteristics of the old Jacobite 
family she represented, and her mind was richly stored with 
traditions and memories of a bygone age contrasting and 
connecting them with those of the present day. 

Of great literary taste, she was gifted with true poetical 
genius, inherited, as it were, from her aunt who wrote " The 
Land o' the Leal,'' and many other national songs of pathos. 




Few, however, lived an intenser life than she in the present. 
Having at an early age been powerfully impressed with 
spiritual religion, she was intimately associated with many 
of the foremost promoters of the evangelical revival in the 
first half of the century, and entered with keen interest into 
the various evangelistic enterprises of more recent times. 
Her beautiful grounds on the banks of the Tay, marching 
with those of Scone, were for many years a resort of those 
who came to Pei'th in connection with such work, and the 
religious conferences with which the name of the city is 
widely associated owed much to her enthusiasm and energy. 
Her very original character and singularly striking personal 
appearance, made her a unique figure in the minds of her 
friends, to whom her removal will make a great blank. 
During the last forty years of her life Mrs. Sandeman kept 
a diary, entitled " Pro and Con,'* in which passing events of 
public or religious interest were chronicled, with the opinions 
of the day noted side by side with her own criticism and 
remarks, often in verse. The last entry was made by herself 
a few hours before her death. Mrs. Sandeman was a 
frequent contributor to magazines of a religious character, 
and all through her writings, whether poetical or otherwise, 
there could be distinctly seen and felt the motto which she 
always bore to the fore-front in everything, " Jesus only." 

For many years, weekly " Meetings for the Young " were 
held in Springland Tower, and during later yeai's within the 
House. Mrs. Sandeman conducted such herself, but often 
enlisted the services of friends who happened to be visiting 
her. When it is mentioned that the register of attendance 
included above two thousand, and that she never forgot her 
" boys* and girls' " welfare in after-life, some idea may be 
formed of the extent of the labour of love continually beiag 




carried on for her Master, and how many must truly mourn 
her loss. 

In the Free Church, Blair-Athole, on Sabbath forenoon, 
towards the close of an earnest and eloquent discourse from 
the words — " To him that overcometh will I give to eat of 
the hidden manna" (Rev. ii. 17), the Rev. A. Bain, M.A., 
pastor of the congregation, made the following appropriate 
reference to the death of the late Mrs. Stewart Sandeman, to 
whom, and to the Bonskeid family, both pastor and people 
feel deeply indebted for many tokens of their warm interest 
and Christian liberality : — 

"Dear friends, this text was suggested to me by the 
solemn and touching services in which some of us were 
sadly privileged to take part within the past few days. On 
Friday, in the city of Perth, the grave closed over the 
mortal remains of one of God's hidden ones. On Monday 
last Mrs. Stewart Sandeman fell asleep in Jesus. She was 
a lady whose piety was far above that of the ordinary rank 
and file of God's children. It was singularly profound and 
practical, finding for its operations channels which will only 
be fully known on the great day of reckoning. Her love to 
the Saviour was one of the most striking features in her 
character, and her interest in the cause of Christ in this 
district and the Church increased with her years. She was 
one whose holy influence has moulded many a heart and life, 
whose memory, consequently, will long be green and 
fragrant in many a bosom, and the remembrance of whose 
peaceful but triumphant death will not soon fade from the 
minds of those who witnessed it. Full of years, and full of 
honours, she departed hence, to receive the welcome that 
the redeemed host around the throne have received when 
they had overcome through the blood of the Lamb. Our 
world is poorer and darker by the loss of such believers ; 
but our loss is their^gain, and the grace that made them 



272 iU?PENDIX. 

what they were is as free to us as it was to them. Be it 
ours, friends, to walk in the footsteps of those who followed 
Christ; to live near Him as they did; to work for Him, and 
wait for Him as they did ; to long for, and rejoice at his 
coming as they did; and at last, haying overcome, to sit 
down around the Father's tahle amid the glories of the 
Father's house. 

<' * Jaat when Thou wilt, O Master, call. 
Or at the noon, or evening fall ; 
Or in the dark, or in the light, 
Just when Thou wilt, it must be right.' " 

" ' Just, when Thou wilt, Thy time is best, 
Thou shalt appoint my hour of rest ; 
Marked by the sun of perfect love, 
bliining unchangeably above.' " 





And how the Little Children reached it by a Railway Accident. 

Eighteenth Thousand. 
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A Sequel to " The Way Home." 

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Twf.nty-fifth Thousand. 

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I. ^ • 

Eighth Thousahd. i6mo, is. cloth. 

Or, Dally Beadlnffs for a Montli. 

With an Introduction by Mrs. Barbour, Author of" The Way Home," &c. 

"Its sweetness of tone and beneficence of spirit will make the book a favourite 
with ToaxTf."— Christian, 

'*We trust that the work may secure an extended sale, and be of much 
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Sixth Thousand. i6mo, is. cloth. 


" The quiet, earnest tone displayed throughout these meditations, and the aptitude 
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interesting." — Guardian. 

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Foi'RTH Tholsand. Roj'al 32mo, 3d. 


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