m' 
 

 "^M^Smm 
 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. 
 
 BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
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 "^l^ 
 
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 london. James JTisbr 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE, LABOURS, AND WRITINGS 
 
 C^SAR MALAN, 
 
 MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL IN THE CHURCH OF GENEVA, DOCTOR OF 
 DIVINITY, AND PASTOR OF "L'EGLISE DU TEMOIGNAGE." 
 
 ONE OF HIS SONS. 
 
 (Pac-eimile of the habitual Seal of Malan. ilrawn and engraved by himself 
 in the beginning of the Revival. ) 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. 
 
 18G9. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PACE 
 
 Introduction, ..... 1 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 I. Childhood and Early Years, .... 9 
 
 II. New Convictions and Struggles, .... 30 
 
 III. Malan's Chapel, and Pastoral Work up to 1830, . . 113 
 
 IV. General Survey of the Years 1820-1830, . . .171 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Public Labours from 1830. 
 I. His Dogmatism, and the Distinctive Character of his Teaching, 214 
 II. Evangelisation in Geneva, and other Countries, . . 254 
 
 III. Public Labours in Geneva from the Year 1830, . . 310 
 
ii CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Malan's Private and Domestic Life — His Closing Relations to the 
 Church— The Evening of his Life, and his death. 
 
 chap. v.kgk 
 
 I. My Father in the Bosom of his Family, . . • 373 
 
 II. Evening; and Close of his Life, .... 430 
 
INTRODUCTION, 
 
 Immediately after my father's death, I received numerous 
 requests to undertake the task of writing his biography. 
 It appeared to me at the time that such a task might 
 easily have been entrusted to abler hands, and a stricter 
 impartiality at the same time have been secured. 
 
 Though four years have elapsed since that event, still, 
 with the exception of a few articles in French and English 
 newspapers, and a short notice by the Eev. John Augustine 
 Bost,* no record has been furnished of my father's career. 
 Under these circumstances, I have yielded to the appeals 
 of those friends who seemed to think that, in some respects, 
 I possessed special qualifications for recording his history. 
 
 This they argued from their knowledge of the fact that 
 I was most intim^ately associated with my father from the 
 very nature of my own studies, and enjoyed the privilege 
 
 * Published in 1865. I eagerly seize this occasion of thanking my old 
 friend, in my name, and in the name of all my family, not only for the 
 pages referred to above, so full of friendly feeling, but also for all his kind- 
 ness to my father in the last years of his life. Amongst the obituary articles 
 in periodicals, the pages in the Record (8th June 1864), written by a friend 
 of my father of long standing, are especially worthy of note. 
 
 A 
 
2 IKTRODUCriON. 
 
 of living near him, especially towards the close of his life, 
 to a greater extent than any of m}^ brothers. 
 
 On the other hand, thankfully admitting that I owe 
 what religious light I may be at present enjoying to his 
 teaching instrumentally, and more especially to his 
 example, I must at the same time add that I was never 
 a member of the community wdiich acknowledged him as 
 pastor, and that, from a very early period, I gave to the 
 faith we shared in common, a dogmatic expression different 
 from his. 
 
 This, however, proved no hindrance to the intimacy 
 which I enjoyed with him, or to the confidence with which 
 he favoured me, while in his living piety and fervent faith 
 I ever sought and found the fire which warmed my soul. 
 
 Though the struggle which reflected such imperishable 
 renown on his earlier days happened at a period beyond 
 my recollection, I can distinctly recall the events which 
 immediately followed. But my closest remembrances 
 gather round his declining years, the long-protracted 
 evening of his honourable life. lieduced by his isolation 
 to a chilling obscurity, he persevered as undauntedly as 
 ever in the activity which had always characterised him, 
 and secured by his testimony, faithful to the last, and by 
 the niivaiyiiig harmony between his principles and his 
 life, a position of peculiar prominence in the religious 
 world, in tlie midst of which he was placed. 
 
 It ^\ill be dfficult — I feel it strongly — to reach and 
 retain that elevation of spirit from ^^•hich alone a faith like 
 his — so simple, natural, candid, and fervent — can be fairly 
 appreciated. Still, I will endeavour to distinguish, with 
 such clearness as I may be able to employ, between that 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 faitli or living principle communicated to his will hj divine 
 agency and the semi-human or Christian expression which 
 he gave to it in dogma. To me the living faith of his heart 
 appeared not only as a special grace beautifying his life, 
 but as a heaven-lit beacon at the entrance of mine, destined, 
 I am well assured, to guide me to the end of my days. 
 Its dogmatical expression, in common with any other of 
 his peculiar characteristics, I shall regard in the following 
 pages, as submitted to that particular kind of appreciation 
 which may be looked for in a son ; nor shall I, I trust, 
 transgress in any subsequent criticism the limits which 
 filial reverence would naturally impose. 
 
 A still greater difficulty, however, remains to be noticed. 
 For one, educated as I was, under his immediate influence, 
 and trained in the midst of the circumstances which iso- 
 lated his family and himself, it will, I feel, be no easy 
 task to maintain a strictly unbiassed judgment in review- 
 ing his career. 
 
 ]N"ot that I have any expectation of satisfying all the 
 different sections of our religious world ; my only aim in 
 this respect will be to avoid as far as possible all injury 
 to just susceptibilities. To this end I shall endeavour, 
 in imitation of him whose life I am recording, to maintain 
 a spirit of brotherly love towards men I cannot Avish to 
 please, and to cherish a sincere respect for those whose 
 opinions I cannot adopt. If I fail at times to suppress 
 the personal element, if individual feelings prove too strong, 
 my readers will have to judge from the facts submitted to 
 them whether they justify the language employed. 
 
 Though born in the midst of the First Eevival, I never 
 witnessed under my father's roof the prejudice and 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 narrowness of view with which the friends of that religious 
 movement are so frequently credited. After an early visit 
 to foreign countries, I commenced my studies in Germany, 
 continued them at Lausanne under Vinet, and concluded 
 them in the Theological School of the Evangelical Society 
 of Geneva, at the time when E. Scheren was on the list 
 of its professors. At a later period, I received many 
 valued marks of esteem from our National Church. Dis- 
 sociated at present from any particular communion, my 
 aim is to occupy a position amongst those believers who 
 desire not so much to serve any particular section of the 
 Church as to serve God Himself in any organised form 
 with which His Providence may for a time connect 
 them. 
 
 Independent as is this position, which I felt it my duty 
 to describe, I cannot but realise the difficulty of avoiding, 
 on the one hand, indications of the partiality which no son 
 could help experiencing for such a father, and, on the other, 
 the undue influence of those emotions which will assert 
 tliemselves whenever I recall his strufjg^les and sufferinsfs. 
 
 Had Geneva continued to be what it was wlien these 
 sufferings were undergone, my feelings in reference to 
 them would have sufficed to deter me from my present 
 undertaking. But the religious animus of 1817 is now 
 extinct, and wliile the incidents of that period deserve to be 
 recorded, the fact tliat the dominion of the clergy, in some 
 of its severer manifestations, has succumbed to the logic 
 of progress will never fail to be regarded with satisfaction. 
 
 To sceptics on all " religious questions," it will suffice to 
 say that, without dwelling on the interest which will ever 
 attach to Platan's life in the eyes of those who shared the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 sentiments lie so boldly asserted, his history will not he 
 without its worth, even in the judgment of the indifferent, 
 as being the career of a man persecuted and set aside for 
 daring to remind the Church and nation of those traditions 
 which alone have been the source of their past glory. 
 
 As a man of faith he realised in his own experience the 
 promise uttered once on our earth by Him for Whose cause 
 he suffered. A true representative of a sincere profession, 
 and of the rights of individual convictions, he lived long 
 enough to see the ecclesiastical body which had discarded 
 him stripped of the privileges they had abused, — long 
 enough also, to hail, along with all the friends of Christian 
 liberty and an unshackled gospel, a return of new life to 
 the ancient Church of his fathers, always dear to him, — 
 long enough, to bear public testimony before strangers that 
 all this had come to pass. 
 
 In undertaking to write his life, I believe that I am not 
 only following my strongest inclination as a son, and a 
 fellow-believer, but that I am even rendering a service to 
 my country. Were I to seek to revive buried animosities, 
 I know well that among the multitudes who would condemn 
 me, he himself would be foremost. The death of strife 
 is sufficiently lingering without unprincipled efforts to 
 protract its agony. At the same time, in any historical 
 retrospect, sufficient must be recalled to indicate the teach- 
 ing of Him Whose sole glory all events, past, present," or 
 future, must combine to promote. 
 
 But, indeed, it may be asked, what could there be in the 
 history of the period to which we shall have to refer, which 
 could at all rekindle strife in modern times ? The days in 
 which we live are characterised by a thoughtful — sometimes 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 even by a painful and anxious expectation: lience tliey 
 call for peace and reunion. The dangers that surround us 
 are no longer those arising from the disturbance of religious 
 parties; they spring rather from the silence of faith and 
 the suppression of conviction. If only for this reason, it 
 would be our duty to trace out the history of one who 
 largely contributed to the inaugurating of the liberties in 
 which we glory ; for none of us can turn them to a good 
 account who has not studied their orioin. 
 
 The subject of this memoir was one of those whose 
 motives will never be universally understood. Such per- 
 sons as would content themselves with discovering, in the 
 religious life of heroes like Augustin, Whitfield, or Havelock, 
 a mere innate energy combined with an honesty of pur- 
 pose and consistency deserving all esteem, will find no- 
 thing to attract them in these pages. They might notice 
 for a moment the active faith of the central figure, but 
 their attention would soon be wearied, probably their 
 sympathies and prejudices outraged. 
 
 If I write not exclusively for men "full of the Holy 
 Ghost and of faith," I would at least have those only for 
 my readers, who, recognising that faith as the highest gift 
 of heaven, desire ardently to partake of it. 
 
 The sources from which I have derived my information 
 are documents, either in type or manuscript, of the existence 
 of many of which I had been profoundly ignorant. In our 
 private intercourse, my father never touched on any fact 
 which tended to throw discredit on any single individual. 
 So scrupulous was he in this respect that it was only on 
 the occasion of my preparing a translation of Baron de 
 Goltz's work in 18G2, that he consented to put into my 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 hands certain printed matter necessary for verifying the 
 quotations of the German work * 
 
 To my reiterated request that he wouhl undertake his 
 own biography, he invariably replied, that as it had pleased 
 God to make him a man of strife (Jer. xv. 1 0,) he had been 
 too much involved in personal debates to feel qualified for 
 such a task. The few MS. notes of his, which I found 
 after his death, contained only such proper names as had 
 been already and frequently brought before the public. 
 
 For the first period of his life, more especially for his strug- 
 gle with the Venerable Assembly of Geneva, I found, after 
 an attentive perusal of the original documents themselves, 
 no safer authority than the book which I have just men- 
 tioned. Some few works, not quoted in its pages, I shall 
 refer to in the course of the narrative. To this may be 
 added the following list of materials : — 
 
 1. Numerous letters, from 1816-63: copies of his cor- 
 respondence with different persons. 
 
 2. Notes and memoranda in his own handwriting, of 
 various events in his life. 
 
 3. ISTumerous manuscripts; e.rf., sermons, catechisms, 
 from the first year of his ministry ; tracts ; essays on 
 special points of divinity; with more than a thousand un- 
 published hymns. 
 
 Of course I could not undertake to make a thorouc^h 
 examination of all these papers ; while the letters of a man 
 
 * " Geneve religieuse, au xix^e Siecle ; ou tableau des faits qui, depuis 
 1815, out accumpagne dans cette ville, le ddveloppement de rindividualisme 
 ecclesiastique du Reveil, mis en regard de I'ancien systbme theocratique de 
 I'eglise de Calvin, par le Baron H. de Goltz, chapelain de i'ambassade 
 de Pru.sse a Rome, traduit de I'Allemand, sons les yeux de I'auteur. Par 
 C, Malan, fils. Geixbve et Bale. Georg. 1862 ; i. vol de 600 pages." 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 in the position lie occupied could only be used with the 
 strictest discretion. At the same time I may confidently 
 state that the study of this accumulated evidence of activity 
 produced a most vivid impression on my mind, and I notice 
 it here to draw general attention to the fact that his medi- 
 tation on, search into, and study and proclamation of the 
 w^ord, with the endless labours of his pen, closed only with 
 his earnest and devoted life. 
 
 It is my pleading duty to express my acknowledgments 
 to the Venerable Assembly of the Church of Geneva for 
 the readiness with which they forwarded my investigations 
 by giving me access to the minutes of their Sessions; I 
 may add too that, havhig submitted the following to my 
 venerable mother, she confirmed the accuracy of the state- 
 ments of facts they present. 
 
 It is further my duty to acknowledge the readiness with 
 which the company of the pastors of Geneva granted me, 
 in the prosecution of my researches, free access to the diary 
 of their sittings, and the courtesy with which their secre- 
 tary, the Eev. Siordet, put himself at my disposal for that 
 purpose. 
 
 To such of my father's friends as may peruse the follow- 
 ing chapters, I would address one special request : that 
 should they note any inaccuracy, or recall, as they read, 
 any facts of interest or importance which have escaped 
 my notice, they would kindly communicate with me on 
 the subject. 
 
 C. MALAK 
 
 Geneva, 1868. 
 
C^SAR MALAN, D.D. 
 
 HIS LIFE AND AVEITINGS. 
 
 BOOK I, 
 
 1787-1830. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 CHILDHOOD AND EARLY YEARS. 
 
 Deep, strong, and still, — an earnest stream 
 
 Flows darkly throxigh a tangled glen, 
 
 By rocks and caves that give again 
 The awe of its mysterious dream. 
 
 The religious aAvakening in the Keformed Cliiirclies of 
 Erance, of which the generation now passing away has 
 been the witness, whether regarded as one of the many 
 phases of the great social revolution which has character- 
 ised our age, or whether hailed as the dawn of a new era 
 in the free manifestation of individual faith, must still 
 remain, on either assumption, an accredited historical fact, 
 wdiose significance and value none may question. Nor 
 must it be forgotten, at the same time, that Geneva was 
 the cradle of its birth, and that the subject of these memoirs 
 has already, and justly, been called its hero. 
 
10 LIFE OF CESAR MALAN. 
 
 He it was who dealt those decisive blows to that 
 clerical dominion which, in the Churches to which we 
 refer, had become so widespread at the commencement of 
 the present century, eclij^sing and absorbing the individual 
 faith to which these very Churches owed, not merely their 
 historical renown, but their very existence. He it was 
 who, comprehending little at the outset of the vastness of 
 the movement he was inaugurating, and by the simple 
 force of inward principle, urging him to bow to what he 
 deemed the most sacred obligation, was employed by 
 God to destroy the false prestige of the clergy to whose 
 body he himself belonged, by quitting a Church to whose 
 ministry he had but recently been ordained ; — the Church 
 of his native land — the Church in the van of the French 
 reformed denomination — th e Church, moreover, be it remem- 
 bered, whose glorious traditions never ceased to be upper- 
 most in his heart. For the second time, after an interval of 
 300 years, the tidings spread that a preacher had sprung up 
 in Geneva, against whom the clergy of that city had raised 
 the same cry which had been elicited from the Eomisli 
 priests of 1532, at the proclamation made by G. Farel (the 
 friend and precursor of Calvin) of salvation by grace. 
 
 In short, in that Protestant Eome, where the profession 
 of faith had been so brilliant and so positive, there had 
 sprung up in its place by slow degrees a system in 
 itself vague and indefinite, and in declared hostility to 
 every tendency in the direction of frank and outspoken 
 opinions.*' Hence, as a natural result, the more evident 
 
 * INIerle D'Aiibigne. — History of the Eeformation in Europe, in the 
 time of Calvin, iii, 274 (in French) ; see also, for a parallel of the revival 
 of the 16th and of the 19th century in Geneva, the Proces du Methodisme, 
 published by Malan in 1835. 
 
STATE OF RELIGIOUS OPINION, 11 
 
 the decay of spiritual life in the majority of professed 
 believers, the greater was the importance attached by the 
 public judgment, as well to that external moral propriety, 
 the guarantee for the maintenance of which rested gene- 
 rally with the influence of an esteemed and deserving 
 clergy, as to the institutions and observances of public 
 worship, wdth the direction of wdiich that clergy had 
 hitherto been wholly and exclusively entrusted. Things 
 had reached such a condition that, if we except a few 
 isolated independent cases, not only was the customary 
 reading of the Scriptures neglected, not only was scriptural 
 teaching superseded by the fiat that "nothing in the 
 Bible was to be believed but what might be known apart 
 from it ; " but even the Eedeemer Himself was ignored in 
 those attributes and truths respecting Him most essential 
 to spiritual life. Meanwhile the religious sentiment of 
 the people w^ould have been stifled, and the public sense of 
 propriety violated, had there been any falling off in the 
 traditional respect which the "Venerable Compagnie des 
 Pasteurs" had hitherto enjoyed, or any questioning for 
 a moment the rights and prerogatives with which the 
 memory of old times and customs had invested them !* 
 
 Undoubtedly it must be admitted that the Genevese 
 Pastorate saw nothing in the revival of their rights which 
 approached in character a distinct usurpation. From the 
 period of the restoration of the republic in 1815 all 
 respectable citizens had agi^eed in regarding the " Com- 
 
 * " La Venerahle Compagnie des Pasteurs " is the official title (such as 
 the " convocation " in the Church of England) of the head body of the 
 clergy of the Genevese Church. There is now the Consistoire (the Presby- 
 tery), and the V. Comp. (the clerical body). This title is left untrans- 
 lated, — Note hy Translator. 
 
12 LIFE OF CyFSAR MALAN. 
 
 pagnie " not only as men whose morality was so unim- 
 peachable that even their enemies could not but respect 
 them ; but, as representing a body which, for sixteen 
 years of irreligious ascendency, at times violent and 
 aggressive, had comprehended thoroughly the evils which 
 had been let loose upon Geneva by the odious domination 
 of a foreign rule ; while they had preserved, in the integrity 
 of its old tradition, the w^orship of their forefathers as well 
 as the religious observances and institutions of the past. 
 Therefore, in the eyes of a Genevese of that epoch to assail 
 the reverence with which the heads of the Church were 
 surrounded, would have been to touch the sacred palla- 
 dium of his country. 
 
 And yet it was at such a period as this that a young 
 minister appeared on the stage — hitherto the esteemed of 
 his ecclesiastical superiors, the favourite of the people — 
 now, however, prepared to start an opposition as undis- 
 guised as it was unexpected. 
 
 An opposition, however, by no means, as far as he was con- 
 cerned, the fruit of preconsidered views or deliberate plans. 
 His was no design to attack institutions which he revered; 
 the cry he raised proceeded from no presumptuous innovator, 
 from no unscrupulous demagogue. He assailed no one. 
 At the commencement of his career, he reflected no censure 
 on the religious customs and observances around him ; his 
 only desire was to fulfil with a clear conscience the minis- 
 try which had been committed to him, by preaching out 
 of the abundance of his heart the faith received from his 
 forefathers. His was no aim in any sense to play a par- 
 ticular part ; he sought but to follow the leadings of duty, 
 under a sense of obligation which he found it impossible 
 
HIS SOLITARY POSITION. 13 
 
 to ignore. His very faith in God, asserting its mighty 
 presence in his soul, comxDelled him, willingly or imwill- 
 ingly, to trample under foot all the traditions of his child- 
 hood, to silence every instinct of his gentle disposition, to 
 look on calmly at the rending one by one of the dearest 
 and most cherished ties, and that too while he felt that the 
 course he was taking would prejudice the interests of his 
 children, inasmuch as it involved the entire desertion, for 
 his own part, at the moment of its attainment, of the goal 
 which it had been his earliest dream to reach. 
 
 Herein, indeed, lies the historical — let us rather say, the 
 deeply tragical — aspect of the career we are about to 
 chronicle. What man of feeling could fail to be touched 
 by the spectacle of one, but a youth, unaided by reputation, 
 influence, position, or rank, standing alone, with no external 
 resources to sustain him, yet compelled, in all the weak- 
 ness of his isolation, to aim direct blows at that which he 
 had hitherto regarded with the deepest veneration — the 
 authority of the fathers of his people, their moral and 
 spiritual guides. A spectacle, too, the more striking when 
 it is remembered that this young man belonged to a city 
 conspicuous for the blind devotedness of her sons ; while 
 he himself gave evidence, to the last hour of his life, that 
 the love of his country was deeply engraven in his heart. 
 
 Who, again, it may be urged, claiming kindred with our 
 common humanity, more especially esteeming the eternal 
 interests of the soul as transcending all else in importance, 
 but would be struck at the sight of this same youth con- 
 fronting authority in high places, and even a majority 
 of his fellow-citizens, while he arrayed against him those 
 very men whose esteem and affection he had hitherto 
 
14 LIFE OF C.FSAR MALAN. 
 
 enjoyed. And that, too, with no faltering heart nor failing 
 courage ; upheld alone by the presence of a simple, living 
 faith, firm in his endurance as " seeino- Him who is 
 invisible;" and neither self-sufficiently nor yet hesitatingly, 
 but with right onward step, advancing in a path beset by 
 difficulties and, not unfrequently, by suff'erings of every 
 kind ! 
 
 Henri Abraham Csesar Malan was born at Geneva on 
 the 7th July 1787. He belonged to a family still nume- 
 rous in the Piedmontese valleys of the Waldenses, where 
 it at first took root in the commune of St Jean. A portion 
 of it, migrating to France, settled at Merindol in Dauphiny, 
 where traces of them still exist, and where they would 
 seem, from various collateral proofs, to have attained rank 
 in the state. What is most deserving of record, however, 
 is the fact that many of his name, both in Piedmont and 
 France, have been conspicuous in the rolls of heroic con- 
 fessors, as sealing with their life their attachment to liberty, 
 conscience, and the truth of the gospel. ]\Iy father, as 
 appears in several of his writings, looked upon it as a real title 
 of nobility to belong to this small race of Waldensian confes- 
 sors, and to have in his family the glorious blood of martyrs. 
 Sprung thus from an ancient stock of primitive Christians, 
 the Malans of Merindol scrupled not, after the revocation 
 of the Edict of Nantes, to sacrifice everything for their 
 faith. While some sought in the wilds of Africa, at the 
 Cape of Good Hope, the religious freedom which had been 
 A\Tenched from them in their native land, one of them, 
 Pierre Malan, the head of the family, and great-grandfather 
 of the subject of this memoir, fled from Merindol in 1714, 
 after the martyrdom of his sister, and reached Geneva in 
 
BETROSPECTIVE. 15 
 
 1 722 in a state of utter destitution. He entered as sero-eant 
 
 o 
 
 in the garrison of the city, and married a French exile, 
 being in due course admitted among the inhabitants or 
 "natifs."* 
 
 The resolve to accord to " natifs " in Geneva the rioht of 
 burghers, was due to the influence of the great French 
 Eevolution. In the troublous times that inaugurated that 
 memorable convulsion, my grandfather, though a natif, was 
 the only one in his family enrolled among the " negatifs " 
 or partizans of the government. My father used to relate, 
 among the earliest memories of his childhood, the circum- 
 stance of his being girded with a miniature sword in token 
 of his new dignity as a burgess of Geneva. 
 
 My grandfather, Jacques Imbert Malan, had succeeded, 
 as College Master of the fourth class, his father-in-law, 
 M. Prestreau, whose Greek and Latin Grammars had lono- 
 served the pupils as manuals. He was univerally respected 
 in the city to which he belonged. On one occasion, during 
 the period of French rule, when it was open to him to 
 succeed to considerable property, of which his grandfather 
 had been deprived in the days of religious persecution, he 
 declined to take the necessary steps, on discovering, after 
 certain preliminary inquiries, that were he to claim pos- 
 session, he would reduce several families to poverty. 
 Moreover, when tlie Prefet, fully entering into his motives, 
 pressed him nevertheless to consider the interests of his 
 two sons, his reply was that he was fully convinced that 
 the principles he meant to instil into them were such as, 
 
 The " natifs " in the old Republic of Geneva, before the French 
 dominion, were not citizens or burghers ; they had no rights but such as 
 might be granted them. They could not vote laws, taxes, &c. The English 
 word ''native'' has an entirely different meaning.— iV'o^e hy Translator^ 
 
16 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAN. 
 
 wlien tliey readied man's estate, would make tliem the first 
 to approve of tlie course he was pursuing. Conspicuous 
 thus for his benevolence, as well as for the liveliness and 
 refinement of his mind, he was unable at first, with the 
 traditions of the eighteenth century strong within him, to 
 enter into the motives which influenced his son to renounce 
 a career, the brilliant promise of which had already more 
 than satisfied his fatherly ambition. It was not till later 
 that he learned to attach more submission to the dictates 
 of living faith and personal piety. During the earlier 
 years of his younger son, his influence only tended to 
 throw him back upon the council and teaching of his 
 pious mother. Without, indeed, earning the reputation of 
 a scorner, my grandfather had succumbed in no small 
 measure to the influence of Yoltaire, whose Avorks, with 
 those of Eousseau, and the Encyclopaedia of Diderot, occu- 
 j)ied the place of honour on his library shelves. 
 
 To him all spiritual enthusiasm was, to say the least, 
 suspicious ; and while his thorough amial)ility of disposi- 
 tion rendered him incapable of individual sarcasm, he 
 greeted religious topics with the smile of superior intellect, 
 and encountered every utterance of fervent piety with the 
 passionless rigour of what he called his common sense. 
 Yet, with all this, he not only loved his son, but respected 
 him as well. At this very moment I have at my side a 
 letter in which the old man summons all the resources of 
 chastened satire and honest indignation to censure the 
 unjustifiable attacks with which the head of the Genevese 
 clergy had visited Ciiesar JMalan. 
 
 His wife, who died in 1848, had been brought up at 
 Claveliere, an old estate purchased by her father, about 
 
FAMILY HISTORY. 1 7 
 
 twenty-one miles from Geneva, on the lower ridge of the 
 Jorat, and still traceable near the farm wdiich at present 
 occupies its site. Her earlier years had been spent in one 
 of the best schools in ISTenfchatel. 
 
 The Prestreans, like the jMalans, were a family of re- 
 fugees, and her father's history, full of romantic and 
 dramatic incidents, never failed to appeal to my youthful 
 imagination as I listened to my grandmother's account of 
 it. They originally belonged to Nimes, where they moved 
 in the upper circles of society. On their emigration from 
 Prance, and consequent enrichment, they sought the most 
 sequestered rural retirement, where they maintained the 
 strictest observance of the traditional Huguenot worship. 
 Thus it happened, that, not long after their settlement in 
 Geneva, they furnished a pastor to the village of Van- 
 dceuvres in the person of one of their connections, the 
 Marquis de Fougereux, one of the " desert preachers " as 
 they were called. He it was who baptized my grand- 
 mother, who was his niece. He it was, too — so my father 
 believed — who built the little house at Yandoeuvres, 
 which my grandfather subsequently purchased, and where 
 my father passed the ten concluding years of his life. 
 
 My grandmother, whose influence, as will afterwards 
 appear, was the means of planting in her son's mind the 
 earliest seeds of divine truth, was singularly attractive in 
 appearance and manners. With angelic sweetness of dis- 
 position, she combined a piety as simple as it was sincere. 
 Deaf from a comparatively early period, her sight never 
 good, she endeavoured, with admirable fortitude, to sustain 
 herself under these infirmities by the assiduous discharge 
 of family duties, and by daily select reading. To this she 
 
18 LIFE OF C^SAll MALAN. 
 
 o^Yed a richly furnished mind, and a versatility of convei:- 
 sational power which gave a special charm to her society. 
 My father was her favomite son, conducting himself to- 
 wards her with the tenderest love, and the most unhounded 
 attention and respect. At the close of her life he came 
 and settled by her at Vandceuvres, never leaving her side 
 except on the Sunday, to preach at Geneva, when he 
 arranged that my mother or one of my sisters should sup- 
 ply his place. 
 
 After my grandfather's death, my grandmother, with her 
 elder son, who lived abroad, continued to the last the ob- 
 ject of my father's most anxious solicitude and tenderest 
 affection. I have discovered in his desk many a letter 
 which had passed between them, many a proof of their 
 mutual attachment. Labled and locked up in his secret 
 drawers, they gave evidence of belonging to his most 
 treasured private relics. Amongst them were to be found 
 a child's first efforts at writing : notes, aU but illegible from 
 age; scattered fragments revealing the clinging ardour of a 
 mother's love. 
 
 ^ly father's childhood was spent with his parents in a 
 house in the Eue Verdaine, communicating by a passage 
 with the library. Though never in absolute destitution, 
 they were often in great straits, and especially at the time 
 of which I am now writing ; their circumstances, indeed, 
 being so straitened as to make it necessary for them to 
 dispense even with a maid-servant. Yet theirs was a 
 happy home notwithstanding, whose brightness my grand- 
 mother loved to recall in the closing years of her life, as 
 she related to me incident after incident in my father's 
 early history ; as, for example, how one day, to save his 
 
INCIDENTS OF HIS BOYHOOD. 19 
 
 brother a scolding, lie took liis medicine ; how, another 
 time, he was seen to give a beggar in the street the bread 
 which had been furnished him for his breakfast on his 
 going to school. Let me recall one other occurrence in her 
 own words, as serving to illustrate the circumstances and 
 influences among which he grew up to manhood. 
 
 " It was during a severe winter, and in days when our 
 circumstances were far from affluent, when your father was 
 about seven years old, that I made him a present one day 
 of a pair of warm woollen gloves. A morning or two 
 afterwards, on his return from school, I noticed that he 
 wasn't wearing them, and, by dint of questioning, elicited 
 the explanation that he had given them to a poor boy with 
 chilblained hands. ' You see, mamma,' he said, ' I can 
 put my hands into my coat sleeves— his coat was not 
 warm like mine.' " 
 
 My grandmother commended her boy for what he had 
 done, telling him, however, at the same time, that he must 
 not expect another pair, "though," she added, as she told 
 me the story, " I often suff"ered that winter at the sight of . 
 his poor little frost-bitten hands. Still, independent of 
 the cost to me of replacing the gloves, which I could ill 
 afford, it was of paramount importance that he should 
 learn from experience that those only can have the privi- 
 lege and pleasure of giving wlio give at the cost of per- 
 sonal sacrifice." 
 
 From his earliest childhood my father became remark- 
 able for the precocity of his character and mind. Thus, 
 his mother often told us how he had read to her the story 
 of Gethsemane, as he sat on a little footstool at her feet, 
 when he was only three years and a half old. :sij brothers 
 
20 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 and I, too, well remember another cliaracteristic incident, 
 often quoted by our grandfather as a stimulus to us to 
 emulate our father's example when he was our age. 
 
 I may be permitted to recount the circumstance as related 
 by an elder sister, who, in common with myself, had 
 often heard it from our grandparents. When he was 
 within a month of his fourth year, our father received the 
 reading prize at college. It was on the occasion of the 
 j)rize day, when medals and other rewards were distributed, 
 and the pupils were advanced to higher forms. The four 
 syndics,''^ their maces in their hands, preceded by their 
 ushers, and followed by the magistracy, clergy, professors, 
 and agents, walked in procession through the streets, at 
 the head of the school, to the sound of church bells and 
 military music, on their way to the cathedral. It was in 
 1792. The small Caesar, in his child's dress, took his 
 jjlace, the only one in that attire and of that age, in tlie 
 solemn cortege. His father had carefully instructed him 
 on the subject of the three bows which he was to make, as 
 he advanced, when his name was called, to the seat of the 
 chief syndic who was to give the prize. He had also 
 taken special j)ains to explain to him how, on retiring, 
 after receiving his prize, he was to repeat his triple rever- 
 ence without turning Ms hack. 
 
 The critical moment arrived — the diminutive prizeman 
 was summoned ; he advanced — trembled an instant at the 
 roar of applause with which he was greeted — collected 
 himself, however, the next moment — accomplished his 
 bows, and received his reward. As he withdrew, engrossed 
 
 * The syndic, or chief magistrate, answering to the consuls of the old 
 Roman Republic. 
 
PASSAGE TO MANHOOD. 21 
 
 tliougli lie was with liis prize, he carefully remembered 
 his father's orders, "You are to make three more bows 
 on retiring." Forgetful of the rest of his instructions, 
 however, he duly and reverently did homage with his 
 back to the high officials, who could not refrain from 
 smiling in concert with the tumultuou.s laughter of the 
 assembly. Then, as ever through his after life, he was 
 intent on obedience, though perhaps slightly oblivious of 
 etiquette. 
 
 His education had been conducted from first to last at 
 the Collegiate Institution, established by the great Ee- 
 former, and which, at the time of which I WTite, continued 
 to be in much the same condition in which Calvin had left 
 it. There it was that contemporary scholars contracted 
 those lasting friendships which made Protestant Geneva 
 less a city than a family and household. There it was 
 that young men from their earliest days were trained to 
 order, industry, obedience ; above all, to a faith in absolute 
 equality in the presence of a common duty, — virtues 
 which for so long a time have been the source of power 
 and glory to the little republic. 
 
 There it was that, in the providence of God, he who 
 was to exercise such a decisive influence in his native 
 town was made to participate in these ancient institutions, 
 that so, from the economies of the past, he might learn 
 wisdom for the Q:uidance of the future. There it was that 
 he was taught to imbibe a deep and instinctive love for 
 his country. There, too, that he first drew around him 
 those personal attachments by which he was afterwards 
 surrounded, and that esteem which, as soon as the voice 
 of prejudice had subsided, was entertained towards him 
 
22 LIFE OF C.FSAR MALAK 
 
 even by those 'who had not hesitated to place their 
 passions at the service of the opposition. 
 
 Xot that, while dne place in the formation of his char- 
 acter is given to these outer influences, the inner and 
 more sacred sway of his home life must be forgotten. His 
 frequent visits at La Claveliere left remembrances which 
 he loved to recall. Under that roof it was that he acquired 
 that distinction of manner and constant self-respect which 
 were so conspicuous in his mother, and which became to 
 him eventually a kind of second nature. 
 
 In all the intimate intercourse to which my father 
 admitted me, among all his constant manifestations of ease 
 and unrestraint, never once did I know him to forget him- 
 self, or suffer his unreserve to degenerate into the slightest 
 approach to laxity. Even on his deathbed, his exquisite 
 politeness and thoughtfulness showed itself in the case of 
 the servant who waited upon him. 
 
 His mechanical tastes, too, which clung to him to the end 
 of his life, and served as a pleasant recreation through many 
 years, were originally communicated to him by his mater- 
 nal grandfather, and so readily taken up, that he became 
 a speedy adept in their prosecution. One thing more, in 
 connection with the formation and development of his 
 tastes during his stay at La Claveliere, may be mentioned 
 here. In this mountain home, and in the continual pre- 
 sence of the grandest natural scenery, he became an 
 ardent lover of nature, and acquired a taste for sketching 
 and painting, together with that inward passion for the 
 beautiful, which is so apparent in his prose and poetical 
 effusions. 
 
 To sum up my reminiscences of these his early years, let 
 
HIS FUTURE DECIDED. 23 
 
 me quote from some memoranda in liis own handwriting, 
 written in 1859 : — 
 
 " When I was seventeen years old, and during my pro- 
 secution of classical studies, I spent a year at Marseilles in 
 a house of business. At that time I thought of being a 
 merchant, principally to help my parents. But God kept 
 me for a nobler destiny. 
 
 " It happened thus. The pastor of Marseilles requiring 
 leave of absence, the committee of his church applied to 
 me to read a sermon from the pulpit every Sunday. This 
 I did, I think, for about two months, and to this incident 
 I trace my first aspiration after the ministry. My father 
 cordially approving of my wishes, I returned to Geneva, 
 and was admitted by the academy professors into their 
 philosophy class. They received me back into the first 
 place, the position I had formerly occupied, and thus I 
 lost nothing by my year's absence at Marseilles. It is true 
 that while I was away, I had regularly kept up my classical 
 studies, rising generally at four A.M., and even at three, that 
 I might be able to work at them before going to business. 
 In addition to this, after the labours of the desk were over 
 for the day, I had a few pupils to whom I gave two or 
 three lessons in history and general literature." 
 
 As a young man, my father became remarkable for the 
 exemplary regularity of his life, and for his active and un- 
 grudging benevolence. Many proofs are at hand that he 
 exhibited from the very first in a high degree those sterling 
 qualities wdiich shone out so brilliantly in his after 
 career. He was known as a " saint." It was said, (and 
 the tradition was confirmed to me by one friend still alive, 
 who assured me that he knew it as a fact, and was pre- 
 
24 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 pared to prove it,) that once, during an unnsually bitter 
 winter, he went, unknown to his parents, night after night, 
 to a wood-yard to purchase bundles of fagots, which he 
 carried off and distributed himseK to sundry poor families. 
 Testimony, too, abounds as to his courage and presence of 
 mind. How he stopped, for instance, one day, two horses 
 which had run away, no one being at hand to help him. 
 Also as to the depth of his sympathy with distress, how 
 with earnest solicitude he watched over some wounded 
 Austrian soldiers. But let me recur to his memoranda : — 
 
 " During my four years' study of theology, and especially 
 during the two last, I frequently preached, sometimes in 
 the rural parishes of Geneva, sometimes in the neighbour- 
 ing countries. At that time, I was utterly ignorant of 
 gospel gTace, and though my character as a young man was 
 upright, even to severity, no thought had ever entered my 
 mind of any other way of salvation than that of my own 
 work and deservings. 
 
 " From the very first, and through my mother's teaching, 
 I had learned to believe in the divinity of the Son of God, 
 and I remember that, at the age of fourteen, I maintained 
 this A^erity against some of my fellow-students in the 
 college room ; yet the belief was as dead within me, and 
 during my four years' study, not a syllable reached me 
 from the lips of my instructors calculated to call it into life. 
 Moreover, the theses which I T^Tote under the direction of 
 the professor of sacred oratory, went no further than to 
 treat of human wisdom and morality ; yet, with this only 
 as the testimony of my conscience, I thought myself, and 
 was thought by others, very religious ; my morals were un- 
 impeachable, and my general conversation reputed devout." 
 
ACADEMICAL TEACHING. 25 
 
 What my father says here about his theological studies, 
 recalls to my mind what he afterwards wrote in 1835. 
 " Were I to go back to my recollections of academical life 
 and its theological teaching," he remarks in his " Proces du 
 Methodisme," (p. 18,) " I should fail to find a single instance 
 in which instruction was given me on the divinity of our 
 Saviour, man's fallen nature, or the doctrine of justification 
 by faith. I think," he adds, "my contemporaries retain 
 the same impression as myself." 
 
 This explains the testimony of Eobert Haldane, who 
 had had considerable intercourse with those "contempo- 
 raries" of whom my father speaks. "If they had been 
 brought up in the schools of Socrates and Plato," he 
 exclaims indignantly to one of their professors, " they 
 could not have been more totally ignorant of the saving 
 truths of the gospel. Their studies seem to have been 
 entirely devoid of all scriptural teaching whatsoever." 
 
 "We learnt," adds one of them, (Eev. A. Post, sen.,) 
 "nothing beyond the dogmas of natural religion. The 
 New Testament was not considered necessary as a text- 
 book of study for the ministry;" a statement which con- 
 firms what my father has said to me over and over again, 
 that so far from having been engaged in the study of the 
 New Testament, in the ordinary course of his theological 
 training, he never even read it through till long after he 
 had left the academy. 
 
 ISTot that it is to be inferred from all this, that his tutors 
 had failed utterly to set before him the sacredness of the 
 Scriptures. As will appear by and by, the Church of 
 Geneva herself had never yet given birth to an avowed 
 and direct assailant of their authority. It was from a 
 
26 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 man t\']io, until then, had occnpied a leading position in 
 the 02:)posite camp, that such an attack eventually pro- 
 ceeded, in the lifetime of the present generation. But 
 there is a worse treatment of the Bible than this, and of 
 that she had been guilty. To attack it openly was only 
 to throw it on the defensive, to challenge a scrutiny of the 
 proofs on which its authority rested, to evoke all the 
 ancient ardour with which that authority was upheld. 
 ISTever thus did the Church of Geneva treat the Bible, to 
 no such prominence did she expose it, slic only ignored it, 
 she only jyasscd it over in silence. Investing it with an 
 exaggerated awe, her very reverence, amounting to super- 
 stition, held it back from general use. Whilst admitting 
 with the unhappy Eousseau, to the very fullest extent, 
 " the majesty of Scripture," she would have deemed it as 
 nothing short of exaggeration to take its authority as the 
 only rule of faith and aim of life. Mere assertion all this, 
 the proof of which remains to be established in the follow- 
 ing pages. 
 
 In 1809, my father, being tutor at the time to a banker's 
 sons in the city, was appointed, after a brilliant examination, 
 master of the fifth form at the college. In this post, which 
 he occupied for nine years, he drew around him, in a 
 marked manner, the approval and the eulogiums of his 
 superiors. Full of enthusiasm in his new work, he was 
 among the first to introduce into Geneva the Bell and 
 Lancaster system of teachiug. In order to make himself 
 acquainted with the method, he visited the school under the 
 management of Pestalozzi, at that time, at Yverdon. Nor 
 did he confine himself to the use of that schoolmaster's 
 text-books; he adopted also his method of logic and analysis 
 
ORDINATION. 27 
 
 as falling in peculiarly with the bent of his own mind. His 
 renown was not long in spreading beyond his native city, 
 and he speedily attracted the notice of foreign professors, 
 especially in the north of Europe, who travelled to Geneva 
 for the express purpose of visiting his class. 
 
 It was for the use of this class, that he issued, in 
 1812, his maiden work, a "Selection from the Fables of 
 Phffidrus," with notes; and in 1818, the first part of an 
 original Latin Poem, which contained the earliest dawnings 
 of gospel faith. It is noteworthy that though -this poem 
 was introduced to the students with the approbation of 
 the academy, it w^as afterwards ranked by those very men 
 amongst the counts in the long indictment against him. 
 
 He was a prime favourite with his pupils. I have often 
 heard men now advanced in life speak with deep emotion 
 of the time when they were under his tuition, giving proof 
 that no after acrimony of controversial dispute could efface 
 his imao'e from their hearts. "No one ever knew as he 
 did," said De Goltz, " the magic art of enchaining attention 
 by a spell incapable of resistance, while he led captive the 
 hearts and intellects of those whom he taught." It was so 
 with him to the very last. Even in his old age he was to 
 the young men who knew him the object of tenderest and 
 closest attachment — the repository of most sacred confi- 
 dences. 
 
 In October 1810 he was ordained to the ministry, at the 
 age of twenty- three. The ceremony took place in the 
 church of Geneva — M. Picot, dean of the clerical body, 
 presiding. The oath which he took on this occasion was 
 to the following effect : — 
 
 "You swear before God, and on the Sacred Scriptures 
 
28 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 open before you, to preach in its simplicity the gospel of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ : to recognise as the only infallible 
 rule of faith and conduct, the Word of God, as contained 
 in the sacred books of the Old and ]N'ew Testament : to 
 abstain from all spirit of sectarianism: to shun every 
 thing from which schism might arise, or which might tend 
 to disturb the union of the Church: to hold inviolably 
 secret all confessions made to you in the disburdening of 
 individual consciences, except such as tend in the direction 
 of high treason : and to exert yourself to the utmost for 
 the edification of the Church of God, by living 'in the 
 midst of the world,' in temperance, justice, and piety, and 
 by devoting yourself to the zealous fulfilment of all the 
 duties of your sacred calling." 
 
 This oath clearly bound the candidate by the authority 
 of the Bible alone. From the year 1806 the catechism liad 
 given way to the apostles' creed, and that again had 
 disappeared in its turn, so as to leave Scripture standing by 
 itself. This must be remembered distinctly in order to 
 harmonise the course my father afterwards followed witli 
 the terms of his ordination vows. 
 
 In the following year he married the younger daughter 
 of ^I. Schonenberger of Claris — a merchant long established 
 at Geneva, where he lived in the small hamlet of Valavran. 
 After having borne him twelve children, of whom eleven 
 are now alive, and joined him in celebrating the thirtieth 
 anniversary of their marriage, my mother closed his eyes. 
 They lost, as I have just stated, only one of their number — 
 my brother Jocelyn, who died in 1846. 
 
 But to return to the period immediately following his 
 ordination and marriage. 
 
IFHAT WAS COMING. 29 
 
 The year was 1812; tlie epocli memorable as witnessing 
 the birth of a religious movement in Geneva. Assem- 
 blies were frequent among certain theological students, of 
 whom M. Empeytaz, attracted by this proceeding alone 
 the displeasure of the Venerable Assembly. Although my 
 father did not participate at first in these meetings, it was 
 he, nevertheless, who was to play a decisive part of uncom- 
 promising testimony and action. To trace his career, how- 
 ever, at this point, will be my task in tlie next chapter. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 NEW COXA^ICTIOXS AND STRUGGLES. 
 
 On ! on ! till, in a bolder sweep, 
 
 By fewer flowers, and darker caves, 
 
 It rolls along its recent waves, 
 And hurls them dow^nward to the deep. 
 
 The events which we are now going to describe have 
 formed the subject-matter of several publications, both in 
 Geneva and abroad, and have also been frequently described 
 in other ways. More particular reference might be made 
 to the work of M. de Goltz, already quoted, in which they 
 are discussed with equal fairness and minuteness. AYliilst 
 reserving to myself the right to quote this authority for 
 some details bearing upon my subject, I shall take care, at 
 the same time, to travel the ground he has occupied in his 
 reference to my father's life, with the aid of contemporary 
 documents, of which the following are the most important: — 
 
 1. W. A. Schichedantz, Ph.D., and Licentiate in Theology 
 at Berlin : The Geneva Church in the Nineteenth Century, 
 first published (in German) in the " Archives of jModeru 
 Ecclesiastical History of Staudlin and Tjchirner," 1821. 
 
 2. Dr J. Pye Smith : A Vindication of the Citizens of 
 Geneva, and other persons, who have been instrumental in the 
 Kevival of Scriptural Pieligiou in that city. London, 1825. 
 
AUTHORITIES. 31 
 
 3. The Eeviewer Eeviewed, by Heresi?e Mastix, (T. 
 Fry, Eector of Emberton), 1821: A lieply to an English 
 Eeligions Eeview which accused M. Malan of " secta- 
 rianism." 
 
 4. The True History (French) of the Momiers of 
 Geneva, followed by a notice of the Momiers of Canton de 
 Vaud. By an Eye-witness. Geneva, 1824 
 
 5. Precis (French) of the Theological Debates which 
 have for some years agitated Geneva. By T. J. Chene- 
 viere, Pastor and Professor of Theology, 1824. 
 
 6. Letter to M. Cheneviere in reply to his '' Precis." By 
 E. Haldane, 1824. Published in French and in English. 
 
 7. Eeligious Geneva in March 1819. By A. Bost, 
 Minister of the Gos2oel. 
 
 8. A Defence of the Christians of Geneva who have 
 constituted themselves into an Independent Church. By 
 A. Bost. Paris, Lyons, and Geneva, 1825. 
 
 9. Prosecution of Bost (on account of the above-men- 
 tioned work), and his acquittal by two tribunals, 1826. 
 
 And, lastly, my father's owm publications : — 
 
 10. Papers referring to his Deprivation of the College 
 Mastership, 1819. 
 
 11. The Conventicle of Eolle, 1821. 
 
 12. Evangelical Testimony, by a Minister of God. 
 (Papers referring to his compulsory secession from the 
 National Church), 1823. 
 
 13. Le Proces du ]Methodisme in Geneva, 1835. 
 
 " So remarkable, and of such value, were ]\Ialan's talents 
 and qualifications, that his future prominence became an 
 assured thing. In appearance he was dignified and pre- 
 
32 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 possessing ; he was a poet and musician ; had a good 
 voice ; painted skilfully ; exhibited, in short, a genius as 
 diversified as it was powerful. He had a rich and fruitful 
 imagination ; his thoughts were logical and impressive ; 
 his eloquence was fascinating; his temperament ardent 
 and impassioned. Impelled by the nervous vigour of his 
 thoughts, he pursued, with indefatigable exertion, a defi- 
 nite object — that object, under the influence of gospel 
 grace, the salvation of souls." 
 
 Such is the graphic and truthful picture of my father, 
 drawn by the pen of the historian of the Pie\T.val in 
 Geneva. His concluding words bring us naturally to con- 
 sider the change which he underwent in his own religious 
 convictions. And here it ought to be premised that this 
 change, though thorough, was by no means so apparent to 
 others in any external reform, as it might have been, had 
 his moral character been less unimpeachable. His was no 
 renewal, furnishing such an outward contrast to the past it 
 had subverted as to arrest the attention of the most heed- 
 less observer. If my father's case proved no exception to 
 the rule that the experimental knowledge of salvation 
 must be followed by a new life, this new life of his was 
 not inaugurated by one of those tragical struggles of the 
 soul which any observer may detect ; nor yet did it erect 
 itself on the ruins, we will not say of irregular morals, but 
 even of worldly habits. Eather it was a quiet transition 
 from a moral, and, in a limited sense, a devout life, to a 
 life genuinely spiritual, and, in the gospel sense of the 
 term, renewed. Further, this new principle in him did 
 not start into being by concentrating a hitherto wavering 
 mind, or by supplying, under divine grace, a force and 
 
RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 33 
 
 symmetry of character as yet wanting. On tlie contrary, 
 the message of the gospel found in hun one to whom reli- 
 gion was no novelty, while morality was a sternest law ; 
 a man whose candid and ingenuous spirit, and resolute 
 following of right, had secured for him general esteem. 
 This explains how the gospel always presented itself to 
 him as the proclamation of a salvation wrought for him, 
 and w^ithout him, rather than as the means God had 
 put into his hands to dissipate doubts by which he had 
 never been distracted, and to alleviate anxieties by which 
 he had never been afflicted. So far from tending to 
 detract from the grandeur of the work of conversion, what 
 has been urged in reference to his peculiar case rather 
 illustrates its absolute necessity. It was indispensable 
 that God should appear as coming Himself, with His 
 word of grace, to a soul that, in consequence of the very 
 virtues with which it was adorned, could not possibly, if 
 left to itself, have ever felt its need of salvation. 
 
 We have already traced to its source my father's accept- 
 ance of the central doctrine of the gospel. But it was not 
 till long after his childhood had received its lesson, not 
 till long after his young manhood had been consecrated to 
 the sacred office, that what had hitherto been with him 
 an accepted dogma became matter of heartfelt experience. 
 Tor five or six years his preaching was in decided opposi- 
 tion to gospel truth. A stranger at that time to the reli- 
 gious movement which was beginning to assert itself 
 around him, the Bible was to him an all but sealed book. 
 Happening to be travelling, on one occasion, during this 
 period, and having nothing to occupy him, he tried to 
 read a chapter or two as a species of distraction. But he 
 
34 LIFE OF CjFSAE MALAN. 
 
 found the style so old-fasliioned, he declares, and the 
 language so common-place, that he put the book aside, and 
 betook himself to a volume of literature. 
 
 It may not be uninteresting to quote here his o"vm 
 words in reference to his conversion, addressed, in an ex- 
 planatory paper in the year 1830, to some brother pastors, 
 a paper to which we shall have occasion to recur by and 
 by. It may be as well to abridge it in some places, and 
 to supplement it in others by notes from a MS. of his in 
 my possession. 
 
 " At the time of my ordination at Geneva I was in utter 
 ignorance of the truth as it is in Jesus. In this darkness 
 I lingered tiE. 1814, at which time I first apprehended the 
 truth that our Lord Jesus Christ is God. I had had some 
 indefinite idea of the importance of this truth from the 
 commencement of my ministry, after a series of conversa- 
 tions with a pastor of the Canton de Vaud, but it was not 
 till the time above specified that I actually received it. 
 Under the teaching of God's Holy Spirit, I owe this 
 development of my faith to hearing the divine word from 
 the lips of various Christians, among whom I may 
 mention, in particular, M.M. Demellayer, Galland, Coulin, 
 Gaussen, and Paul Henry of Berlin ; and, above all, ]\I. 
 Moulin." 
 
 In his "Germain le Bucheron" my father furnishes a 
 few details in reference to his eventful discussions with 
 the Yaudois pastor, whose name never reached me. " I 
 stopped at his viUage," he writes, " and preached for him. 
 As we were leaving the church he said to me, with a grave 
 and mournful expression, ' It appears to me, sir, that you 
 have not yet learnt that, in order to convert others, you 
 
PROGRESS. 35 
 
 must first be converted yourself. Your sermon Tvas not a 
 Christian discourse, and I sincerely hope my people didn't 
 understand it.' Blessed salutary words ! From them 
 and from all that this faithful servant of Christ added to 
 them, I began to understand what a Christian means — 
 what it really is to be a Christian." 
 
 But to return to his explanatory letter. " From that 
 time I besjan," he writes, " to discern the doctrine of OTace 
 and justification by faith without the works of the law. 
 Galland often spoke of it, and I found that, in the 
 expositions I made in the week-day services, I gradually 
 arrived at the truth that man is justified by faith alone. 
 This was in the year 1815. At the close of that year I 
 began to teach this doctrine to my pupils at the college, 
 and it was then that I first encountered the admonitions 
 and reproaches of those of my superiors who did not 
 relish the truth I was professing." 
 
 Whilst my father's mind was thus being gradually 
 enlightened under the influence of a few of the clergy of 
 Geneva, the majority of that body had already mani- 
 fested a decided opposition to these scriptural opinions, 
 and had supplied unmistakable evidence of their hostility 
 to INIalan himself. As a matter of fact, a revival had 
 already commenced some years back, and at the suggestion 
 of one of those very pastors, whose names we have given 
 above, a society of young men had been formed in 1810, 
 associated to some extent with a small Moravian com- 
 munity, the commencement of which dated back to the 
 ^isit of Count Zinzendorf to Geneva in 1 740. This little 
 body numbered at that time some six or seven hundred 
 members, including on its roll the names of some even of 
 
36 LIFE OF CJESAE MALAN. 
 
 the magistrates of the republic. In 1810, ho^'ever, the 
 only fruit left of the personal exertions of Zinzendorf was 
 an old lady who died eight years afterwards at the 
 advanced age of ninety-four, and who, up to the time of 
 her deatli, was the centre of a small circle of five or six 
 persons. This little flock, hearing of the progress of a 
 reviving work in other countries, joined in prayer for an 
 extension of the blessed influence to their own. These 
 prayers so regularly, so perseveringly, offered, kindled in 
 the first instance that great spiritual awakening which 
 burst out so gloriously not long afterwards. The first answer 
 came in an inwrought impulse in the hearts of some of 
 those w^ho prayed to address themselves to the work about 
 which they had been praying. Two of them, students in 
 theology, whose names were Guers and Empeytaz, endea- 
 voured (in the year 1813) to set up a small Sunday- 
 school. The latter of them, after tlie visit of the famous 
 Baroness de Kreudener to Geneva, acted so unhesitatingly 
 on the subject of individual exertion in things spiritual 
 as to provoke the authorities, in opposition, to append to 
 the ordination oath the words by which the candidates 
 were held to pledge themselves " to abstain from every 
 species of sectarianism, and to avoid whatever might tend 
 in the direction of schism, or threaten the unity of the 
 Church." Eventually, at the period of which we are now 
 speaking, this same student, who had just been refused 
 orders in the National Church, published at Paris his 
 work entitled " Considerations on the Divinity of Jesus 
 Christ, addressed to the Students of Theology in the 
 Church of Geneva." 
 
 Tliis publication was not without its influence, accord- 
 
HIS OJVN RECORD OF HIS OPINIONS. 37 
 
 ing to my fatlier, on tliose to wliom it Tvas addressed. 
 Many of them joined with a few young ministers in 
 preaching their new faith regularly in the rural parishes, 
 or occasionally in the city. In addition to this they held 
 religious meetings here and there, and their influence 
 soon became felt among their fellow-students, and even 
 in some families of the city. 
 
 Meanwhile my father, absorbed in his educational work, 
 with which indeed he combined an occasional ministry in 
 Geneva and the country round, avoided taking any part 
 in all that was going on. Beyond the sensation caused by 
 the publication of Empeytaz, little indeed was generally 
 known of the revival movement at this time. It was not 
 till long after he had detached himself, step by step, from 
 the Church to which he had originally belonged, that he 
 encountered these young men whom we have specified 
 above. At all events his subsequent activity could 
 scarcely be traced, as far as its origin was concerned, to 
 any influence exercised upon him by the revival move- 
 ment — a movement which had been before him in the 
 field, and whose work he was now to undertake. Accord- 
 ing to his invariable rule he took an independent part in 
 aU that followed. With the independence of his character 
 he suffered what all independent natures must suffer, and 
 hence it is but fair to allow him that kind of honour 
 which such natures may fairly claim. 
 
 Looking over a volume of sermons which he published 
 in 1838, I find the fuUest testimony to the change which 
 occurred at this time in his spiritual life. 
 
 " I have stated, on some occasions, that my conversion 
 to the Lord Jesus might, with propriety, be compared 
 
38 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 to a motlier rousing an infant with a kiss — a simile 
 answering exactly to my experience in recalling it. iSTor 
 can I look back to that blessed epoch in my life ^\'ithout 
 magnifying His tender loving-kindness ^Vlio spared me 
 the doubts, terrors, and perplexities through which so 
 many souls have passed ere they tasted 'joy and peace in 
 believing.' 
 
 '' For many years of my ministry I was a stranger, experi- 
 mentally, to the doctrines of grace : teaching the merits of 
 human righteousness, flattering human excellence, and 
 holding forth a heaven of glory as the certain reward of 
 human effort ; no thought even of that divine righteousness 
 ' which is unto all and upon all them that believe,' ever 
 crossed my mind, and consequently no suspicion that I 
 was opposing it. Mine was the uttermost repose of igno- 
 rance, the most entire freedom from all misgiving as to the 
 truth of my creed. I spoke as I felt, as, indeed, I had been 
 taught, with all the warmth and animation of youth. My 
 teaching was of a God and Saviour alike unknown; setting 
 forth, as a substitute for the witness of the Spirit, the cold 
 morality of reason and the deceits of an unbelieving heart." 
 
 In proof of his assertions, my father adds an analysis of 
 a sermon preached by him in 1813 (Phil. iii. 13, 14), and 
 which had been written under the special superintendence 
 of one of his professors. 
 
 In it is set forth the innocence of human nature, and a 
 sinner's justification by his own merits and efforts. It 
 concludes as follows : '' As you contemplate the excellences 
 you have already attained, and see opening before you the 
 path to new achievements, you will taste a secret, ineffable 
 joy. The consciousness of progress will fiU your hearts 
 
STRANGE TEACHING. 39 
 
 with sweetest hope; and thus, in adding day by day to 
 your previous merits, a hoard of gold tried in the fire, the 
 purchase-money of immortality, you will anticipate with 
 heavenly delight the arrival of that happy hour wherein 
 you shall be called to render back to the Creator the souls 
 which you have embellislied with accumulated virtues (!) " 
 
 He refers also to another sermon preached by him in the 
 following year, in which he laboured to prove that religion 
 was the only firm foundation of national virtue — a sermon 
 which he says had been suggested to him by the indigna- 
 tion which he had felt at hearing another discourse, setting 
 forth " man's natural dignity as the true basis of popular 
 virtue and prosperity;" and handling the subject precisely 
 after the fashion of a heathen philosopher, ascribing all 
 power and glory to human reason and human will. 
 
 "Much general excitement resulted from this contro- 
 versy. A multitude filled the church at the time my 
 sermon was preached, and listened with enthusiasm to my 
 flattering appeal to the national sentiment, while I talked 
 about * religion' and 'the God of our fathers,' and electri- 
 fied my congregation after a fashion by fine words about 
 the love of our country, and how our national piety was the 
 only sure guardian of its glory." 
 
 Let us pause here a few moments, that we may appre- 
 hend the more clearly the starting-point in my fatlier's 
 new life. At first the prominent sentiment is one of sur- 
 prise at the contrast between teaching such as we have 
 quoted a])0ve, and that of which he was afterwards the 
 foremost cliampion. And yet the attentive observer would 
 feel that this by no means exhausted the whole matter. 
 If the Holy Spirit, by a divine and mysterious action, 
 
40 LIFE OF CAESAR MALAN. 
 
 implants in tlie unconscious centre of the liuman will and 
 personality, a new and heavenly principle, He never, in a 
 direct and violent manner, changes that which remains — 
 the essential and distinctive feature of the individuality 
 itself, which appears in its conscious activity. 
 
 Hence the unparalleled interest of noticing the choice of 
 the instrumentalities by which God is pleased to carry out 
 His purposes, — the peculiar motives which lead Him in 
 His wisdom to summon one man in j)articular, in preference 
 to all others, to the execution of some jDarticidar work. He 
 having already prepared him for it. 
 
 Under the influence of these considerations, there are 
 two things which will strike us at once in connection with 
 the extracts quoted above. In the jfirst place, we find at 
 this point in Malan's life a religious profession, with a 
 public confession of His faith in God, long before that 
 special moment in which his soul was converted to the 
 gospel of grace. For Malan's faith, God was the living God 
 of conscience, considerably in advance of that time when 
 He became enthroned in his heart as a God of sovereign 
 love and free forgiving mercy. 
 
 Our second remark points to the authority, and therefore 
 to the dogmatical form which already characterised his 
 religious convictions. The preacher of gospel grace has 
 often been charged with this reproach. And yet it was 
 observable in his teaching long before he apprehended the 
 truth of a free salvation. Every item in his religious faith 
 was in his eyes from the very first — even before his conver- 
 sion — a truth of God, to be declared and enjoined as such. 
 This is evident in the few words quoted above from his 
 sermon on human merit. After havinsr laid down the 
 
LOYALTY AND REVERENCE. 41 
 
 princi2:)le, that the heart and soul of man might be infinitely 
 ennobled by virtuous efforts, " Think not," he adds, " that 
 this is any mere human teaching, to be accepted or rejected 
 at your pleasure ; it is the very word of God, and you can- 
 not discard it blamelessly." How often, in after years, he 
 employed the self-same words in enforcing doctrine to 
 which this was diametrically opposed ! Hence he was one 
 of those men who take, not the mere indistinct authority 
 only, but even the very voice of conscience, as coming to 
 them direct from God. Already before his conversion to 
 the gospel, Malan appears to us as a man whose solemnity 
 in the treatment of relioious truth was so startlincr, that he 
 conjured up in the mind of those who heard him the image 
 of a Hebrew seer; a man who, without offending his 
 hearers, might have spoken of " the God before Whom I 
 stand." This extreme reverence, which thus displayed 
 itself long before he stood forth as a witness for the gospel, 
 was in him a prominent characteristic. Ere yet the eternal 
 Jehovah was to him a Father, Whose love was shed abroad 
 in his heart, he beheld in Him the true and livincj God, 
 the God in Whose awful presence his conscience ever 
 uttered her voice. 
 
 And so this belief in the living God, to be feared, and 
 loved, and trusted, became in him the starting-point in a 
 marked manner, the very foundation, indeed, of liis whole 
 religious life. Nor was it strange that it should be so, 
 when we look at the simplicity and decision of his spiritual 
 progress. In short, if it be true that Christ leads us to the 
 Father, it is God, as God, Who leads us to the Saviour. 
 
 In proof of wdiat has now been said, I might advance 
 many an incident in his life. I will content myself, how- 
 
42 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 ever, witli quoting a single circumstance, wliicli happened 
 at the precise period of which we are now treating : — 
 
 It was towards the close of 1814 that my mother nearly 
 snccnmhed to an attack of that terrible typhoid epidemic 
 which followed the allied armies in their progress through 
 the country ; and often and often has my father described 
 to us these terrible days. For many weeks he never left 
 her cliamber, while she, lying in utter unconsciousness, had 
 long been given over by the physicians. One of them, 
 however, in going away, suggested the use of wine, so that 
 no possible remedy might be neglected. '' Never shall I 
 forget that moment," said my father. " I took the cellar 
 key, and went to fetch some. As I reached the foot of the 
 stairs with it in my hand, I fell on my knees and prayed 
 God to have mercy on me, and on you all. In my moment 
 of extremity I felt as though two mighty hands were rais- 
 ing me, and setting me on my feet. I ascended the stair- 
 case full of a strange elation ; the crisis had passed, and 
 your mother was saved, but I doubt not God Himself had 
 vouchsafed me succour from on high ?" 
 
 Those who knew him best know how thoroughly free he 
 was from any tinge of superstition ; that is to say, from 
 anything that tended in the direction of trust in the mys- 
 terious or unknown. Yet, at the same time, he equally 
 repudiated that practical infidelity which denies to the 
 Almighty the right of exercising a direct control over indi- 
 vidual occurrences in human life. I may add that I have 
 quoted this incident, not so much with the view of calling 
 up a mere bygone recollection, of which numbers might 
 readily have been communicated by any of his family. 
 I have placed it on record to show that even before his 
 
FAITH IN TEE LIVING GOD. 43 
 
 conversion, as lie liimself describes it, God was always to 
 him a living God ; that, so far from referring the history 
 of his life to second and proximate causes, he was in the 
 habit of ascribing it to the sole Supreme Cause Who 
 ordained them all. 
 
 This fundamental thought in my father's spiritual life, 
 explaining, as it does, that absolute independence of char- 
 acter and conduct, and more especially of teaching which 
 distinguished him, must ever be regarded as the prominent 
 feature of his inner history. His was one of those great 
 natures to which absolute truth is a sheer necessity, and 
 which draw towards it from every point, as towards an 
 atmosphere essential to their very life. Before the eyes of 
 such there stands out but one stupendous fact — a fact 
 eclipsing every other, namely, the infinite and ever-present 
 reality, the constantly actual truth, the ever-efficacious and 
 essentially free will of the living God. 
 
 And if I put this stress on the living theism which, in 
 my father's case, preceded a not less living Christianity, 
 it is because, as it seems to me, truth such as this de- 
 mands clearest and most emphatic notice at the time when 
 believers are compelled, by the open negation of the 
 supernatural in historical facts, to summon even greater 
 decision to the maintenance of their faith in its eternal 
 reality, such as they derived it from their personal expe- 
 rience of the living God. 
 
 With my father, the fear of the Lord in fullest operation 
 was the secret of all his activity. Hence flowed that early 
 decision and lucidity of word and action which purged 
 him from all taint of hesitation, which suffered no doubt 
 to cross his mind, which, in a word, made him a man 
 
44 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 ■whose wallv was stamped witli simplicity, independence, 
 and acknowledged superiority. 
 
 Such a man was eminently needed in Geneva, at the 
 time of which we are writing, to recall in its pulpits the 
 lively and definite preaching of evangelical truth, among 
 a clergy who knew nothing of the doctrines of grace, 
 and in the midst of a population who had lost even the 
 remembrance of them. Later, the same city needed such 
 a man again, to keep up, in the midst of the disputings of 
 dissenters who constantly felt themselves in danger of put- 
 ting too much stress upon Church questions, (with all the 
 noisy personal debates which such questions are apt to 
 raise up), the simple living testimony of those same gospel 
 doctrines as of the one thing really needful. 
 
 As has been already remarked, it was in the year 1816 
 that my father attained to the faith of salvation by grace, 
 a year termed by himself " the year of deliverance." At 
 its commencement he contracted an intimacy with two 
 pious foreigners, ]\I. de Sach from Berlin, as well as with 
 M. Wendt, the worthy Lutheran pastor in Geneva. " One 
 eveninoj," he A\Tites, " we had a Bible readino: in Ch. de 
 Sach's apartment. The subject was the 5th of Eomans. I 
 was greatly impressed by the whole of it, particularly by 
 the 10th verse, ^ For in that He died. He died unto sin 
 once ; but in that He liveth. He liveth unto God.' " At 
 the same period in his life the incident occurred which is 
 stated in his preface to his " Tcmoignage de Dieu." " One 
 afternoon, while I was reading the ]N"ew Testament at my 
 desk, while my pupils were preparing their next lesson, I 
 I turned to the 2d chapter of Ephesians. When I came 
 to the words, ' By grace are ye saved through faith, and 
 
ROBERT HALDANE. 45 
 
 that not of yourselves, it is tlie gift of God,' the passage 
 seemed to shine out before my eyes. I was so deeply 
 moved by it that I was compelled to leave tlie room and 
 take a turn in the courtyard, where I walked up and down 
 exclaimincj with intensest feelinc^, ' I am saved ! I am 
 saved!'" 
 
 The significance of all this is obvious. My father's 
 lively recollection of it, after an interval of so many years, 
 shows that it was indeed the starting-point in his spiritual 
 experience. The Word of God effected it with its emphatic 
 declaration that God makes us a free gift of eternal life 
 through faith alone. 
 
 It was not till afterwards that he began to read, as I 
 learn from his own memoranda, " L'Abroge des Doctrines," 
 by B. Pictet, and " La Confession de Foi de Pays Bas." It 
 was not till a still subsequent j)eriod in the autumn of 
 1816, that he met casually for the first time at a hotel 
 the venerable E. Haldane. Some months afterwards, in 
 the spring of 1817, he was constantly with him. To that 
 man of God he owed his first lucid and definite apprehen- 
 sion of salvation by grace alone. "From that time," he 
 says himself in the paper to which reference lias already 
 been made, "I was in the faith, though I had not the assur- 
 ance of salvation. That blessing I ex|)erienced while Mr 
 Haldane, whom I love as a father, instructed me in the 
 way of the Lord more perfectly. This was at the com- 
 mencement of the year 1817, a period at which I made 
 the acquaintance also of Dr Mason, and of the Eev. 
 M. Bruen of New York, with whom I read and meditated 
 over the Word of God." 
 
 The following passage, referring to the visit then made 
 
46 LIFE OF CjESAR MALAK 
 
 to Geneva by these two men, occurs in a letter of Eev. M. 
 Briien, dated March, 16, 1816, quoted in Dr Mason's Me- 
 moirs, page 454 * 
 
 ". . . . It gives me great pleasure to find that . . . . 
 especially among the young ministers and the students, 
 
 there is a strong inclination towards the truth 
 
 They are anxious to seize every opportunity of instruc- 
 tion." After having mentioned E. Haldane's visit, he 
 also speaks of student meetings which took place at Dr 
 Mason's lodgings : " It could not fail to strike me as very 
 remarkable that we should have arrived here just at this 
 time, when the line is become marked ; and it is evident 
 that Dr Mason's character and instructions will not be 
 without effect." "Yes, my dear and venerable friend," 
 writes my father himself to Dr Mason some time later, 
 " nothing is more certain than that your remembrance and 
 that of Bruen have guided me in critical moments." (Ibid. 
 p. 458.) We shaU see presently to what sort of influence 
 my father alluded in these words. 
 
 A detailed account occurs in his " Conventicule de 
 Eolle " of his interviews with E. Haldane. 
 
 More than forty years afterwards the remembrance of 
 these interviews was still vivid. Here are some passages 
 from a letter he wrote in 1859 to the nephew of E. Hal- 
 dane, who had sent him the memoir of his uncle and his 
 father. (Memoir of E. and J. Haldane.) " I cannot refrain, 
 my dear Alexander, from speaking to you of your father 
 and of your uncle. I have just perused their biography, 
 and I humble myself deeply before the sight of their 
 
 * Memoir of John M. Mason, D.D., &;c. By Jacob van Yechten. New 
 York: Carter, 1856, 1 vol. 
 
B. AND J. HALDANE. 47 
 
 activity. How poor seems the work of present workmen 
 in the Church of the Lord Jesus, when Ave compare it with 
 the works and the offerings of a Eobert and of a James 
 Haldane ! I am literally astounded at the sight of such 
 labours, and I cannot say how much I regret not having 
 been aware that these men had been put into such circum- 
 stances by the Lord Jesus, when I had the happiness and 
 the great privilege of knowing them. But how could I 
 have been aware of it ? Was it even possible to discern 
 such workmen of God in these humble, modest, and, as 
 one may say, humble instruments of His grace ? How I 
 delight in recalling them to my mind's eye, going over, as 
 much as I am able, both their teachings and their counsels, 
 seeing in both of them that light of the Bible, to which 
 alone they bowed. 
 
 " As for myself, dear friend, endeavouring as I do, until 
 my end, to proclaim that same voice, I feel more and more 
 every day how much I need that the Lord should put in 
 me the same spirit, the same fervour, the same self-abne- 
 gation which he implanted in your worthy and kind 
 father, in your beloved and so justly-honoured uncle! 
 May God strengthen all who understand what their work 
 has been ! How I long to hear you speaking to me once 
 more of both these examples. I dare not say of these 
 masters, as they would say with myself, poor unworthy that 
 I am, we have only one Master;' &c. 
 
 That truly apostolic Christian was the means of impart- 
 ing, not only to him, but also to his friend Gaussen, that 
 joyous and lively assurance of salvation which stamped 
 from that time his Christian course. At the time that he 
 recorded all this, that change had only just occurred. But 
 
48' LIFE OF C^SAE MALAK. 
 
 here is his after testimony on the subject, ^vritten in 1824, 
 to a Scotch friend : — 
 
 "It pleased the Lord, ahont this period, to enlighten 
 and convert my soul, and to dispose me to listen to the 
 pious instruction of an ApoUos from your country, who 
 taught me from the Scriptures tU value of the pearl of 
 great price, of the treasure hid in the field I was made 
 rich, and, from that blessed hour, I viewed the world and 
 heaven, time and eternity, man and his God, under quite a 
 different aspect. A total reformation seemed to have 
 taken place in my moral and intellectual being. The 
 Bible taught me that the duration of this world bears no 
 proportion to eternity ; and that that man only appeared 
 to me to be, in truth, alive, whose life is hid loith Christ m 
 God; out of Christ everything seemed to me to be dead; 
 and 'therefore I relinquished several of the common 
 branches of education, which I deemed unconnected with 
 true life, with the existence of the soul in that kingdom 
 which the gospel had taught me to know and love as my 
 everlasting habitation." - (Letter on the Principles of 
 Christian Education, addressed to J. CampbeU, of Carbrook, 
 by Dr Malan. Edinburgh, 1826, page 35, scq) 
 
 This may serve to show us how, from its very begin- 
 ning, the change which happened in my father's convictions 
 and^'views, was to himself, at the same time, an absolute and 
 irrevocable relinquishing of his past Hfe and pursuits. The 
 new birth was for hun no mere resuscitation of the proper 
 human nature of the soul, but, in the fuUest sense of the 
 term, a new creation; a fact entirely and absolutely new. 
 He apprehended Christ and His work not as the mere con- 
 summation of all work of God, subjective or objective, 
 
HIS FAITH IN ACTION. 49 
 
 but as an unprecedented fact in tlie history of liuinanity ; 
 as a fact whose unlooked-for occurrence eclipsed in his 
 eyes all the incidents in the long detail of preparation 
 that had inaugnrated it. Challenged to a struggle with 
 traditions, deriving no little strength from their age and 
 respectability, to a struggle in which he was to stand 
 alone, and througli which he was to be upheld by his 
 reliance on a personal Saviour, it was only to be expected 
 that his faith should assume a proportionate abrupt- 
 ness of assertion. :N'aturally he clung to it, (not as others 
 .might,) as the highest exercise of the human soul, such 
 as God at first conceived it. He regarded faith in the 
 special aspect which it ever presents to man fallen 
 from liis celestial origin, as directly miraculous in its 
 character. But this peculiarity of his renewed life, 
 which, if it had merely shown itself in his teaching or in 
 his bearing towards others, would have deservedly pro- 
 cured him the reproach of intolerant and fanatical bigotry, 
 displayed itself, above all, in the sacrifices to which, 
 under its influence, he was impelled. From the very 
 outset his personal piety was strictly practical, and free 
 from any taint of indecision or guilty compromise. Hence, 
 no sooner had he received from the divine word the 
 impressions he has described, than he not only set to 
 work at once to destroy all his previous manuscripts, 
 but also a large collection of classic authors which he had 
 carefully amassed, and which had been up to tliat time his 
 choicest possession. Of course he did this on the impulse 
 of the moment, inasmuch as he put copies of the very 
 same classics afterwards into the hands of his sons, though 
 he never resumed the reading of them himself, seeinrr 
 
50 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAN. 
 
 the AVord of God only in the Bible, restricting the service of 
 God to the preaching of that Word. Doubtless there may 
 have been something in snch a mode of action calculated 
 to shock those who were apt to get discouraged at the 
 sight of a decision they could not imitate, together with 
 those vdio, although fully agreeing with him in their faith 
 in the reality of God's kingdom, did not, nevertheless, 
 limit that kingdom to the mere invisible world. Yet these 
 even showed themselves eager to rekindle their faith at 
 the fire of his ; nor could they, whenever they approached 
 him, fail to admire that simplicity and consistency which 
 imparted to his belief a real character of gTeatness. 
 
 It was impossible for such a man to remain long without 
 rendering public testimony to the truth which was possess- 
 ing his soul. 
 
 It was on the 15th March 1817, that it pleased God to 
 enable Malan to uprear once more in Geneva, the soiled 
 standard of her ancient faith, and to proclaim openly from 
 Calvin's pulpit that gospel whose blessed echoes had so 
 long ceased to be heard in her national churches. 
 
 Even before his intercourse with Haldane he had 
 j)reached in a country church (on Christmas Day, 1816, and 
 January 19, 1817,) a sermon on "justification by faith 
 alone." It was not, however, till after that intercourse 
 that he preached it again in the city, on the 5th and 6th 
 of March at the Easter Festival. 
 
 That sermon was a national event, and became a date in 
 the religious history of Geneva. " The preacher's burning 
 utterances," says Haldane, " fell like a tliunderclap on those 
 who heard him," all which is best described in his own 
 w^ords : — 
 
AN EVENTFUL SERMON 51 
 
 " I preaclied/' lie writes, " in a large clmrcli wliicli was 
 too small, however, for the congregation which thronged to 
 it. The time was evening, and the solemnity of the twi- 
 light gloom added its impression to the appeal which I 
 pressed home to the consciences of the unbelieving and 
 self-righteous among my hearers. I w^as listened to at 
 first in the most profound silence : a silence resulting, 
 however, from surprise and displeasure. Signs of dis- 
 satisfaction were speedily aj)parent as I went on to demon- 
 strate the falsehood of human righteousness, and to exalt 
 the righteousness of God which is by faith in Jesus 
 Christ. There arose murmurs of discontent, and move- 
 ments of ill-concealed impatience, and wdien I pointed 
 with my hand to the w^all at the right of the pulpit, ex- 
 claiming, ' If at this moment the mysterious hand, which 
 in Babylon of old — in the midst of an idolatrous revel — 
 wrote in silence on the wall the death doom of a dissolute 
 king; if that hand were to appear now and trace upon 
 these stones the history of the months, and days, and 
 hours of your life from the time when you first dedicated 
 it to God; if these mysterious characters shone forth in 
 betrayal of your deeds and thoughts, wrought and con- 
 ceived when no eye but that of the Holy One was upon 
 you ; — tell me wdiicli of you w^ould dare to confront the 
 writing ? Does not the bare thought of such a thing make 
 you tremble ? and is not the involuntary desire to banish 
 such a possibility from your minds none other than the 
 voice of conscience reproaching you w^itli similar indig- 
 nities, wdth similar consciousness of guilt V At this 
 moment several of my hearers turned unconsciously to- 
 wards the wall at which I had been pointing, others 
 
52 LIFE OF CJESAE MALAK 
 
 shrugged their shoulders, \Yhile the greater number mani- 
 fested an impatience which broke loose from all restraint 
 when, addressing myself a moment afterwards to the 
 sinner who hoped to earn salvation by his own deserv- 
 ings, I exclaimed, ' Seek then to know, transgressor, 
 wdiat it is that keeps thee from Christ ! Inquire without, 
 inquire within: leave no means untried to ascertain the 
 hindrance. As I ask the momentous question, I wait for 
 your reply. Search through the whole of your inner life 
 and its history : what can you discover — of what are you 
 possessed fit to offer to your God ? Your body is defiled, 
 your heart is earthly, your soul stained with sin. What 
 have you then to bring forth ? AnsAver before God Whose 
 presence fills this house ! What — what can you offer as 
 the price of your soul ? 
 
 " ' Poor sinner ! God asks thee for gold, for gold weighed 
 in the balance of the sanctuary, and you have nothing but 
 dross, and a righteousness, as saitli the prophet, which is 
 but filthy rags. AVhat, then, is the issue of all contro- 
 versies with God ? What but the utter confusion of the 
 flesh, the utter destruction of claims to human merit, and 
 the hopelessness of those efforts^ by which you sought to 
 save your souls ? 
 
 " ' And what is to become of you if you have no other 
 ground of confidence ? Say, proud man, where will be 
 your refuge on the judgment-day if you yourself are your 
 own advocate with the Father, your own propitiation for 
 your numberless sins ? 
 
 " ' It is an easy matter now to answer with apparent con- 
 fidence, while the longsuffering of your God is sparing 
 you, "What, but my virtues, my righteousness, my in- 
 
FAITHFUL JFORDS. 53 
 
 tegrity ?" But it will not be always so ; a few years more, 
 and what then ? Oh, follow me to the throne of the Holy 
 God ; come into the presence of Him Who tries the very 
 hearts and reins, Who hath purer eyes than to behold 
 iniquity. Stand there with all your works, your virtues, 
 your pride, your presumption. See the heavens passing 
 away with a great noise, and the elements melting with 
 fervent heat 1 See this Christ Whom thou hast rejected, on 
 the throne of judgment : no longer meek and lowiy, but 
 clothed with glory and girded about with power, ready to 
 execute justice, and to destroy the despisers of His gospel. 
 See His elect gathered from the four winds ; His angels 
 veiling their faces ; His saints casting their crowns at the 
 feet of Him Who vjas dead, but Who is alive for evermore ! 
 See heaven united in praising His loving-kindness, whilst 
 the rebellious wail because of Him, and smite their hands 
 upon their breasts. See yet again Satan the accuser 
 standing in the presence of your Judge. ISTow come for- 
 ward, step forth into the midst. Fear not. What ! don't 
 you know that you are righteous, that you are upright, 
 that you are pure, that you are honest. Haven't you said 
 as much a thousand times over ? Why then this deadly 
 pallor ? Why this confusion of face, this horrible dread 
 carrying away your very soul ? You — all of you — sinners 
 without Christ — how comes it that the mere conjecture 
 of such things, the mere word of a fellow-sinner describ- 
 ing them, fills you with unutterable dismay. . . .'" 
 
 At these w^ords, a movement as of derision ran through 
 the congregation ; and when the preacher left the pulpit 
 he strode through the crowd like a soldier drummed out 
 by his comrades, or a criminal marching to execution. 
 
54 LIFE OF CAESAR 31 A LAN. 
 
 In the present day, tliose who would have resented the 
 preacher's words, who would have cowered with dismay- 
 under the terrible irony that accompanied them, or shrunk 
 from the pointed application which his apocalyptical ima- 
 gery conveyed, would have contented themselves simply 
 with avoiding his ministry for the future ; and that because 
 men are at length beginning to learn that most elementary, 
 though most sacred of truths, that religion is a personal 
 concern. At the time, however, of wdiich I am writing, 
 the prevalent idea, not in Geneva only, but throughout the 
 Continent generally, was that of a national religion, a 
 reli«'ion whose institutions were to be submitted to in 
 such sort as not to aggress on the individual conscience. 
 Under such circumstances, the religious public felt justified 
 in looking for deferential consideration from the organ of 
 their so-called religious system, or, in other words, from 
 each of their preachers. Meanwhile, when national 
 Churches have reached the climax of extinguishing the 
 sense of duty and obligation in the individual members of 
 their Churches, their days are numbered ; and secession, 
 with all that the word implies, is the inevitable result of 
 so false a position, a truth which, even in the present day, 
 w^e do well to remember. 
 
 But to return to the events of the 8th March 1817, and 
 to the sermon of that day, a sermon characterised by Do 
 Goltz as an eloquent, powerful, and singularly lucid expo- 
 sition of gospel truth. 
 
 His own parents, says Haldane's biographer, deserted 
 him. His wife even was extremely distressed. Each look 
 she gave him seemed to reproach him with the destruction 
 of the dreams of the past— the shipwreck of the bright 
 
HOIF THE TRUTH JFAS RECEIVED. 55 
 
 hopes of the future. He returned home in his robes, fol- 
 lowed by the scorn of the populace, and borne down by its 
 weight. But as he crossed the threshold of his door, and 
 was about to retire into his study, he caught sight of the 
 dignified figure and benevolent face of Eobert Haldane, 
 who exclaimed, as he shook him warmly by the hand, 
 ''Thank God, the gospel has again been preached in 
 Geneva;" and added, "You will be a mart}T? to the trutli 
 in this place," meaning "a witness." 
 
 "I shall never forget," says Haldane, "the signs of 
 amazement and indignation wliich I beheld in the counte- 
 nances of some of those who were present during that 
 sermon." Of this the young minister himself had speedy 
 proof in a visit, the next day, from the Pastor Cheneviere, 
 who came to implore him, in the name of the clerical 
 body, " to change his doctrine on account of the mischief 
 that might ensue from preaching that good works were not 
 required as the j)rocuring cause of salvation." " Such is 
 my firm belief," he answered, and closed the controversy ; 
 and from that time all the city pulpits, and most of those 
 in tlie country, were firmly shut against him. 
 
 But it required more than human power to close his 
 lips. Burning with a holy zeal to proclaim to his fellow 
 citizens the truths to which he owed his own spiritual 
 life, he became all the more convinced, as he himself said, 
 that the joy wliich filled his own soul would yet be com- 
 municated to the hearts of those who should hear him ; 
 and that they, too, delighting in the blessed tidings of sal- 
 vation by faith in Jesus Christ, would accept it heartily, 
 and repudiate the unscriptural figments of human right- 
 eousness. 
 
56 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 And yet he had, by no means, contemplated at this time 
 a secession from the National Chnrch, as was evident 
 from his refusing, in the month of July in that very year, 
 sundry brilliant offers made to him on condition of his 
 forming a congregation of his own, and becoming pastor of 
 an independent body* Still less were his religious re- 
 quirements satisfied by those small meetings, which had 
 been a subject of debate for two or three years. "I 
 attended one of them," he said, " and was by no means 
 pleased with the result. Too much sensation— too little 
 truth. And those of my own family, who had spoken 
 
 * I quote once more, on tlais special point, tlie testimony of Mr Bruen, as 
 I find it in a letter of his to Dr Mason, dated 7tli Nov. 1817, toucHng the 
 events of which he was a witness in Geneva (Memoirs of Dr Mason, p. 454.) 
 " While Malan suffered in this way, he was incessantly pressed to 
 separate himself entirely from the Church, and to be at the head of a small 
 number who had left the communion. Motives were presented to him in 
 every shape, especially in that most likely to affect a man of such ardent 
 
 feelings I cannot but rejoice that Malan has not joined them. 
 
 Although with his energy, eloquence, and piety, things would at present 
 have borne a very different aspect, yet we must doubt whether, with so 
 many pastors decidedly orthodox in the Church (there are five avowedly 
 so), this measure of dernier ressort was necessary. If the question were, 
 whether Malan should preach at all or not, it were easy to answer ; but 
 this interdict may be temporary. Some think it wiU be so ; and the 
 ground taken by its authors and defenders always goes on this supposition— 
 and it does not extend beyond the limits of our Canton— so that Malan has 
 within a few days been preaching at Bern and Neufchatel. To have 
 joined in that separation would have been to shut himself from all con- 
 nection with the Helvetic Churches, and from a large and promising field of 
 
 usefulness As to the Church of Geneva in particuhir, there is a 
 
 great deal to be said for, as weU as against, breaking communion with it. 
 To be obliged to acknowledge the ministrations of Arian pastors, who hold 
 and exercise rights most contradictory to Christian principles and liberty, 
 
 is deeply distressing If there had been here a man of Calvin's 
 
 power to organise a separation of the precious from the vile, and shake off 
 at once, with the heretics, those shackles which bind religion to the state ; 
 if the orthodox could have been closely united or brought to this, it had 
 been a glorious result," &c. 
 
THE '^ REGLEMENTr 57 
 
 to me about them, I discouraged from being present at 
 tliem; saying that I did not approve of the doctrine 
 taught, or the hymns sung." 
 
 It was at this time that certain views of baptism, im- 
 parted from England, began to find favour in tlie Church 
 of the " Bourg de Four."* By and by it will be seen 
 that, at the moment when he was on the point of em- 
 bracing them, he turned round and denounced them 
 publicly. 
 
 And yet, notwithstanding all this, and that the diver- 
 gence between Malan and the rest of the clergy was on 
 a question strictly dogmatic, that body had come to a 
 firm resolve to suffer none of their Churches to be infected 
 with his teaching. And on the 3d May 1817 they issued, 
 in their capacity as an ecclesiastical authority, the follow- 
 ing " Eegulation : " — 
 
 " The clergy of Geneva, in a spirit of humility, peace, and 
 Christian love, convinced that the present circumstances 
 of the Church committed to their care, call for measures 
 of a wise and prudential character, determines — without 
 attempting to prejudge the questions involved, and without 
 seeking to trench on liberty of opinion — to exact of all 
 candidates to the ministry, and of all ministers seeking to 
 exercise their functions in the Church of Geneva, a jiledge 
 of which the following shall be the substance : — 
 
 " ^Ye bind ourselves, so long as we continue to reside 
 and to preach in the Canton of Geneva, to abstain from 
 dogmatising, either through an entire discourse or portion 
 of it,— 
 
 * The name given to the congz'egation of diasenters which had just 
 seceded to the^e meetings. 
 
58 LIFE OF CJESJE MALAN. 
 
 "1. On the manner whereby the divine and human 
 natures are united in the person of Jesus Christ ; 
 
 " 2. On original sin ; 
 
 " 3. On the mode of the operations of grace, or on the 
 nature and degree of its efficacy ; 
 
 " 4. On predestination. 
 
 "We bind ourselves also not to attack, in any public 
 discourse, the opinions of any individual minister on these 
 points. 
 
 " And, lastly, should we be led to speak on any of these 
 subjects, to do so calmly, and avoiding expressions foreign 
 to Holy Scripture, and confining ourselves as closely as 
 possible to the language of the Bil)le." 
 
 Such was the tenor of the Eegulation of the 3d May, 
 which we may confidently style the beginning of the reli- 
 gious troubles of Protestantism in Geneva. 
 
 At first sight this step would appear to have been taken 
 merely with a view of calming the excitement that was 
 beginning to make itself apparent. On looking at it a 
 little closer, however, more especially in the light of subse- 
 quent events, it will be clear that everything turned on 
 the construction placed upon its language by the authori- 
 ties, and the way in which they employed it. We are not 
 a little surprised, after a closer examination, to notice that 
 the doctrines which, according to its stipulations, are to be 
 announced in the words of Scripture only, are spoken of 
 in the same breath as " individual opinions," or as " views." 
 Evidently those who had had a hand in drawing up this 
 document confounded dogma and faith. Thanks to that 
 confusion, they qualified themselves, as it should please 
 them, either to force dogma to give way before what they 
 
OBJECTS OF THE " REGLEMENTr 59 
 
 would call the sacred rights of faith, or should the in- 
 terests of the latter only be concerned, to represent the 
 claim they urged as the inopportune affirmation of an 
 effete dogmatism. Events soon proved for which of these 
 two continfrencies this Eeci-ulation had been framed. 
 
 o o 
 
 At all events, none could assert that its main object 
 was to prohibit the putting fortli of theological subtleties 
 from the pulpit. Such an idea never occurred to any 
 one. Indeed, the scientific q^uestions these points imply 
 were not only new to the religious public of Geneva, but 
 the clergy themselves on both sides were entirely wanting 
 in that peculiar scientific lore which has a tendency to 
 create in certain minds an enthusiasm for pure theological 
 controversy. It was the fact of our Lord's divinity that 
 was being disputed, and that alone. 
 
 As a melancholy result of that spirit of tergiversation 
 and disingenuousness — that fettering of opinion and craft 
 of policy which Eousseau had already satirised in his 
 caustic fashion among the clergy of his own country in the 
 preceding century — this Eegulation was only quoted for the 
 purpose of excluding from the pulpit, not the indiscreet 
 proclamation of what would have been a mere theological 
 dogmatism, but men of mark, of ability, and zeal, whose 
 only aim it was to plant in the bosom of a " Christianised 
 deism" the eternal verities of the gospel. 
 
 At first the Eegulation was kept a secret. When it had 
 been originally proposed to the ecclesiastical authorities in 
 the Venerable Assembly, three of them refused their as- 
 sent. As for Malan, being only a minister,* and not one of 
 
 * i.e., a preacher without office. The Compar/nie is the assembly of the 
 pastors, viz., of the clergymen in office. — Note by Translator. 
 
60 LIFE OF C^FSAE MALAN. 
 
 the " body," lie only heard of it indirectly, and received 
 at once an assurance from the majority of his brethren (he 
 was the senior of the ministers and entitled to act in their 
 name) that they would unite with him in at once protest- 
 ing against it. 
 
 As soon as the issuing of the Eegulation had reached 
 the ears of LI. Cellerier de Satigny — a man universally and 
 most justly beloved and esteemed — he hastened to my 
 father and implored him to abstain from any immediate 
 protest. In a letter in reply, dated 20th May, my father 
 says : — " You cannot think what anxiety your arguments 
 have caused me. They have tended greatly to modify any 
 expressions I might use on this question, but my main 
 conviction remains unaltered. I have an unconquerable 
 aversion to any temporising course, or to the appearance 
 even of failing, by my silence, in my duty to God and the 
 pure faith of the gospel. My brother," he added in con- 
 clusion, " is it not possible to make no mention of such an 
 euGfa^ement ?" 
 
 Meanwhile, on the 22d of May, the day of the annual 
 conference of ministers, my father, who had to be present 
 on the occasion, was so deeply moved that my mother, 
 (who, I may mention in passing, had for some time come 
 to share in his views), being similarly affected, put a paper 
 into his hands containing these words : — " This is a day 
 wherein you should give glory to God ! Abide by your 
 vows to Him, and fear nothing !" 
 
 The Eegulation having been read and presented to the 
 ministers for their acceptance, Malan, who had received 
 the thanks of the meeting at its commencement for his 
 teaching at the college, wanted to reply. He was refused 
 
OPPOSES THE '^ REGLEMENir 61 
 
 permission, however, and that, too, in a very decided 
 fashion. Eventually, he had to leave the assembly with- 
 out being able to do more than declare that he would 
 never submit to its requirements. As for those who had 
 promised to join him in such a protest, they remained 
 silent. 
 
 On that day week he addressed a letter to the As- 
 sembly, in which, while he expressly stated that he could 
 not submit to their will in the matter of the Eegulation, 
 he at the same time gave them to understand that he was 
 prepared to follow their guidance in everything appertain- 
 ing to the management of the Church in non-spiritual 
 things, and concluded by asking permission to preach on 
 the 8th of June. 
 
 Whereupon the moderator replied that his protest was 
 returned to him, that he could not be suffered to preach 
 unless he complied with the Eegulation, adding that the 
 clerical body would regard a renewal of that request as a 
 virtual submission. ^Miat followed I will record in my 
 father's words : — 
 
 " From that time, every effort was made to convince me 
 that this Eegulation did not touch upon matters of con- 
 science. Those who had prepared it, I was reminded, were 
 the same friends, the same pastors, that I had known and 
 honoured from my childhood, ^o one knows what distress 
 it caused me to refuse compliance, or the anxiety with 
 which I pondered every possible method of reconciling 
 their wishes and my duty. On the other hand, I was then 
 but an infant in the faith, a new convert, and almost stag- 
 gered at my own apparent audacity in opposing tlie Vener- 
 able Assembly. 
 
62 LIFE OF CjFSAB MALAN. 
 
 *' Tlien it was that I looked away for a moment from my 
 Bible and the will of my God to the concern of my friends. 
 As a natural result, and by their advice, I consented to 
 apply for permission to preach, assuring the ]\Ioderator 
 that my sermon would in no way violate the stipulations of 
 the Eegulation." 
 
 The application was not granted, however, and jMalan 
 renewed it two months afterwards in a long letter to the 
 Assembly, dated the 1st August. It ran as follows :— 
 
 "Eemember, gentlemen, that I am more than thirty 
 years old ; remember how, during that time, I have dili- 
 gently followed the course of study prescribed for the minis- 
 try ; that I have received holy orders at your hands ; that 
 I have acquitted myself as a minister of Christ for more 
 than six years, without reproach. Eemember, too, that the 
 ministry of the gospel has ever been my chosen work, and 
 that I have ever held myself as belonging heart and soul 
 to the Church, and especially to the Church of Geneva. 
 Consider also, venerable brethren, that I have never 
 preached any doctrine or advocated any opinion that was 
 not strictly evangelical ; and that, if I find it utterly im- 
 possible now to comply with your wishes in this matter of 
 the Eegulation, it is because I cannot be dislayal to those 
 dictates of my conscience which you yourselves have taught 
 me to respect and obey. I have been accused of wishing 
 to secede from the Church; yet, God knows, the bare 
 thought of secession is foreign to my soul. My reverend 
 brethren, I am no sectarian ; my only desire, the one wish 
 of my heart, is to prove by faithful preaching of the gospel 
 that I have not been unwisely entrusted with that sacred 
 
LETTER TO THE ASSEMBLY. 
 
 63 
 
 ministry which, by the grace of God, T have received at 
 your hands." 
 
 He then goes on to say, in reference to an appeal 
 addressed to him from abroad, and also to those offers to 
 which reference has already been made, - Though I were 
 besought to discharge by other means that ministry of 
 which your adverse decision would seek to deprive me, 
 I would pointedly refuse, until I had again had recourse] 
 and had recourse in vain, to your charity— or, shall I say] 
 to your justice. 
 
 "I implore you, therefore, by the peace which should 
 reign m the Church of Christ, to suffer me to exercise my 
 mmistry without let or hindrance, and thus to put an end 
 to the cavils and blasphemies of ignorant and wicked men." 
 On referring to certain expressions in this letter in the 
 year 1823, my father did not scruple to censure them as 
 smacking of a carnal sensibility, and to point out the 
 hidden thirst for approbation lurking in them. It was 
 not even read, however, in the Assembly, as the writer 
 withdrew it at the instigation of the Moderator, and post- 
 poned all further action on the subject, while the dispute 
 was pending between them, for more than a year. 
 
 Meanwhile, the movements of Dissent were by no means 
 arrested in Geneva, and, to quote my father's testimony, 
 "the blows which were aimed at the faithful, only served 
 to strengthen tlie stakes of tlie reviving Church." The 
 "Petite Eglise"* was set up, the Lord's Supper was 
 admimstered in it, and the clergy began to take note of its 
 
 * "La petite Eglise" was the first name given to the dissenters of the 
 xSourg de xour. 
 
64 LIFE OF CyFSAB MALAN. 
 
 existence. Xotwitlistanding tlieir undoubted influence, the 
 magistracy gave reiterated proof of their determination 
 to maintain rehgious liberty. As for my father, he gave 
 himself up entirely to his coUege work, and carefuUy 
 abstained from any act of adhesion to the new community. 
 When, however, he found that, in consequence of the pro- 
 ceedings of the clerical body, no pulpit was accessible to 
 him in Geneva, he began in June 1817 to preach at Ferney 
 Voltaire, a village three miles from the city, on the French 
 frontiers. Impelled, at the same time, by the constraining 
 desire to spread abroad the knowledge of the faith he held 
 so precious, he established a Sunday school in his college 
 class-room, which numbered some two hundred and fifty 
 yoimg people. Five months had scarcely elapsed before 
 the ecclesiastical authorities deprived him of the use of the 
 class-room for that purpose, and the school was broken up 
 for a year, till it was re-opened by my father in the year 
 1818 in his own house, which he had purchased in the 
 Faubourg du Pre TEveque. The next move of the authori- 
 ties was°to recommend the pastors to do all in their power 
 to keep the youth of their parishes from attending that 
 school. In spite, however, of this opposition, my father 
 soon had a hundred and twenty pupils— sixty boys and 
 sixty girls, or upwards. It was for the use of these classes 
 that he published, in 1818 and 1824, two little catechisms, 
 with seventy-one questions and answers, under the title 
 "The Little Christian Boy," and "The Little Christian 
 Girl." These catechisms are models of simplicity, clear- 
 ness, and systematic arrangement. They were soon after- 
 wards translated into English. 
 
 In 1816, he had established an asylum for outcast girls, 
 
SPECIAL JFORK. 65 
 
 whicli lie maintained by means of funds collected by liim 
 in Geneva and abroad, and in the direction of wbich he 
 exhibited, as might easily be proved by instances, the 
 marvellous energy and charity of his spirit. Of these un- 
 happy ones, rescued by Malan himself from the purlieus of 
 the city, and even from a higher grade, some were so bene- 
 fited under the discipline of their new home, and derived 
 such advantage from the kindly and judicious administra- 
 tion to which they were subjected, that the majority of 
 them were not only restored to society, but of these not a 
 few became denizens of a better, a heavenly kingdom. 
 In a certain English volume, I met once with an account 
 of a visit which the author, in company with my father, 
 made to two of these women. He speaks in the passage to 
 . which I refer of " that Israelite, indeed, to whom, notwith^ 
 standing the calumnies heaped upon him, so many anxious 
 souls are looking amongst those who desire the regener- 
 ation of Geneva." As for the special work to which we 
 have been referring, he says that Malan's ministry in this 
 particular had been sufficiently blessed to give him 
 abundant encouragement to persevere. After years of 
 prayer, enteaty, and longing, he had seen some of them 
 bowed down like Mary at the feet of Jesus. And then 
 foUow details in proof of these assertions. 
 
 In this asylum my father preached every Sunday 
 After he had been dismissed from his coUegiate post, it 
 slipped out of his hands, and soon ceased to exist. Some 
 years ago, one of the established clergy of Geneva founded 
 it anew, and the fact of his having done so, as well as the 
 way in which he did it, was a special grratification to 
 my father at the close of his life. 
 
 E 
 
66 LIFE OF CjFSAE MALAK 
 
 It woiiLd appear from Ms notes, that in tliis same year, 
 1817, lie devoted himself almost entirely to studying the 
 JSTew Testament, taking it with him wherever he went, that 
 he might avail himself of every possible opportunity of 
 reading it. 
 
 A letter written to my mother from Chamouni, where 
 he was staying at the time with a Christian friend, will 
 give the best idea of his state of mind at this period. 
 After having described his sensations on visiting the " Mer 
 de Glace," he goes on to say, " We have had most earnest 
 Christian intercourse with with old Balmat, one of ]\I. de 
 Saussure's guides. How blessed a thing it is thus to con- 
 secrate all our enjoyments ! How sweet to walk in com- 
 munion with the Creator of all these glories, our personal 
 Saviour, Who hath loved us with such unutterable love !" 
 Then, in reference to some pious English people whom he 
 had met, he adds, " What thanks, my dear one, are due to 
 our gracious Father for giving me already so many Chris- 
 tian friends. Alas ! He had to choose them for me amongst 
 foreigners ! My countrymen do not know what it is to 
 live in Christ. I never enjoyed a trip like this before. It 
 is true that it is the first time I ever travelled with a 
 kindred spirit, with one whose soul cleaves to what I feel 
 to be beyond everything in worth." Then, after a few 
 lines of poetry in which he lifts up his soul in view of the 
 magnificence around him, to " the hope of eternal life," he 
 adds others on the subject of " heart-union," bearing upon 
 the " Hotel de rUnion," which was then being built. 
 
 At Geneva, however, he felt very keenly his exclusion 
 from the pulpit. Meanwhile, he was urged on aU sides to 
 submit to the Eegulatiou, as bearing only on questions of 
 
URGED ON ALL SIDES. 67 
 
 Cliurch discipline, and not of faith. In the month of 
 January 1818 more especially, he tells us that many of the 
 clergy pressed him anew to follo^y the example of his 
 brethren who had accepted it in a pacific spirit, with 
 no other end in view than the maintenance of peace. 
 Among these, the venerable Cellerier made every effort 
 to convince my father of his own view that the ob- 
 noxious edict was purely a question of ecclesiastical 
 rule. 
 
 "God only knows," he writes, "how sorely I was beset. 
 I, a young minister, as yet so slightly grounded in the 
 knowledge of the AVord, and entreated so earnestly to 
 yield to the demonstrations of zeal and attachment which 
 poured in from every quarter." In a letter addressed to 
 one who had been the most vehement in his representation, 
 he goes into the whole question, and shows him how im- 
 possible he felt it, whatever might be the sacrifice, to prove 
 unfaithful to his convictions. "I act according to my faith," 
 he writes, "without judging or anathematising any one, 
 but believing that it is the truth. My first concern as a 
 minister of God should be to preach the truths in 
 question." 
 
 M. Cellerier, however, in no way slackened his efforts, 
 and endeavoured at the same time to induce the As- 
 sembly to put such an interpretation on the Eegulation as 
 to make it evident that it pertained exclusively to dis- 
 cipline. As soon as he thought he had succeeded in this 
 endeavour, he paid a fresh visit to my father, adjuring 
 him, in the name of the Saviour, and in the interests of 
 Christian love, no longer to refuse his assent. Then he 
 escorted him to the presence of a deputation of three pas- 
 
68 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 tors who had been commissioned to interpret to him the 
 real meaning of the Eegnlation. 
 
 My father assured them that he had either misunder- 
 stood the document, or that it had been considerably modi- 
 fied, so much so that he had no further hesitation, after 
 the explanations which had been afforded him, to declare 
 that he saw nothing in the way of his assent. 
 
 It was under the influence of these feelings that he 
 wrote to the Assembly on the 6th of IMay, close upon 
 the time of the great religious festivals, a letter which 
 breathes all the impulsiv^e nature of his feelings. " I have 
 sinned against your authority, venerable brethren," he 
 says, " impelled by an unhappy narrow-mindedness, very 
 different from the wisdom which cometh down from above. 
 If you have wronged me in anything, the A^Tong has been 
 so insignificant that I dare not recall it. ]\Iine towards 
 you has been so great that I may well desire that the past 
 should be forgotten. I would fain assure you, brethren, 
 in the presence of this happy change of feeling, that my 
 future bearing shall be all that you could desire. My 
 conduct shall be ruled by your authority, and if I can- 
 not give my cordial approval to a Eegulation which runs 
 counter to my principles, I am prepared at all events to 
 submit to it in the interests of peace. Yes, brethren, bro- 
 therly love is more precious than the triumph of opinions, 
 however lawful I have felt this keenly. I am ready to 
 prove it." 
 
 j\Iy father was the first to acknowledge that, however 
 much he might have felt all that this letter contained at 
 the time he wrote it, it was nevertheless rather the gush- 
 ing effusion of a young disciple, than the calm and judicious 
 
REMOVAL OF THE INHIBITION. G9 
 
 utterance of a minister of God. He did not hesitate to 
 detect in it sentiment rather than true charity, and to 
 affirm that he displayed in it a greater eagerness to please 
 those in power, and to pacify their minds, than to guard 
 the interests of the truth. 
 
 Meanwhile, this letter, in which we can only trace the 
 impression of a somewhat impulsive record of generous 
 and confiding feeling, was unsparingly quoted against him. 
 It was taken as proof of a vacillating character, and even 
 as a lapse from the honest maintenance of his principles. 
 It was nothino- more, however, as he acknowledo^ed after- 
 wards, than the product of a too hasty eagerness to yield 
 to natural affections, which ought never to sway the judg- 
 ment of a minister of God. Moreover, he always felt, in 
 common with all his friends, that, thanks to his impetuo- 
 sity, his confidence, as De Goltz assures us, had been 
 taken unfair advantas^e of. At all events, those to whom 
 he had written so unreservedly, soon gave him to under- 
 stand that this was the case. 
 
 Meanwhile, in consequence of his letter, he was re-ad- 
 mitted at once to the pulpit of Geneva, nor did he hesitate 
 to avail himself of the restored permission, preaching twice 
 in the months of j\Iay and August. 
 
 The extraordinary sensation occasioned at the time 
 by these two sermons, which to-day would pass un- 
 noticed except for their strength, clearness, and elo- 
 quence of diction — the fact that men Avho meant to be in 
 earnest pretended that they saw in them an attempt to 
 introduce into the pulpit theological " subtleties" — all this 
 shows how utterly the gospel message, however simply 
 delivered, had become an unknown sound in Geneva. 
 
70 LIFE OF CyFSAFo MALAN. 
 
 And what is still more surprising is the displeasure which 
 these same sermons created in the Assembly itself. 
 " After their delivery," writes my father, " instead of that 
 personal interest and kindly feeling which so many of the 
 pastors had shown me, I experienced nothing but coldness, 
 reproaches, and false accusations." One cannot help ask- 
 ing whether in this struggle the Assembly did not, 
 after all, see a mere question of supremacy or competency. 
 However that may be, a decree was issued forthwith, abso- 
 lutely interdicting Malan from pulpit ministrations. A 
 request to be heard in his own defence was denied him. 
 Sentence was passed. They even refused to accept the 
 offer he made them to take cognisance of his discourses 
 before he preached them ; and a decision was arrived at 
 on the 9th of August, that no a23plication from him would 
 even be admitted for debate unless it were supj^orted by 
 nine members of the Assembly. 
 
 Nor did matters stop here. While Malan spared no 
 efforts to induce them to reconsider their decision, the 
 academical " Compagnie," a mere branch of the " Com- 
 pagnie des Pasteurs," addressed him in significant terms in 
 reference to his college teaching. On the 24th of August, 
 a fortnight after the last prohibition had been issued, he 
 was called upon to undergo a cross-examination in the 
 presence of the rector and moderator. He remained firm 
 throughout, and in the month of September had to write to 
 them that his trust was in the Lord Jesus, Who would pro- 
 vide for him and his (he had six children at the time), if 
 his means of livelihood were taken from him. This leads 
 us to inquire as to what was the new kind of teaching that 
 appeared so reprehensible to the authorities. We find it 
 
NATURAL RELIGION. 71 
 
 detailed by himself in the letter to Mr T. Campbell, quoted 
 above. Here is what he says upon the subject : — 
 
 " When I was a Cliristian only in name, I was guided 
 by the maxims of the world, and, like it, was in all things 
 deceived. At that period I was a great admirer of pagan 
 philosophy. The image of virtue, as enshrined by the men 
 of this world, was the idol which I worshipped. Dignity, 
 elevation of sentiment, sublimity of thought, energy, gener- 
 osity, glory and honour, were my favourite expressions. The 
 name of the Lord did not rest on my lips, and my heart 
 was a stranger to the sanctifying influence of the Holy 
 Spirit. That man appeared to me to have attained his 
 highest destination, of whom it could be said, He is the 
 greatest, the luisest, and most virtuous of his eountrymen. I 
 imagined that education had no other end than to form 
 good citizens and great men ; and it was my highest 
 ambition to render my pupils more distinguished than 
 those of any other school, and to hear them eulogised. 
 
 " What man, impressed with the fear of God, does not 
 tremble at beholding those great manufactories of worldly 
 education — those workshops of reason and mrtue, where, 
 for views and feelings, the intelligence is reduced to its 
 own imamiino's — where the heart, to the exclusion of the 
 Creator, is merely directed to creatures and creation. Yet 
 this was the plan on which I conducted my school. Emu- 
 lation, that is to say, pride — unbounded pride — was the 
 moving principle. Disgrace and punishment wore the 
 portion of the idle, praise and reward were bestowed 
 on the diligent. And it was at this period, my dear 
 friend, that I was most regarded as an intelligent and 
 valuable master ; that the friends of my scholars 'united 
 
72 LIFE OF CyESAR MALAN. 
 
 with my superiors in commending the rare talents I dis- 
 played in my method with my scholars. 
 
 " It pleased God, about this time, to enlighten and con- 
 vert my soul. The children now appeared to me in quite 
 another character. Hitherto I had only regarded them as 
 members of human society, as men not arrived at man- 
 hood. I henceforth considered them as immortal beings, 
 and consequently as destined to be citizens of heaven, or 
 heirs of wrath ; and this solemn consideration produced a 
 complete revolution in my principles of instruction. 
 
 *' The innate rectitude of man, his equal bias to good 
 and evil, the infallibility of his understanding in the pur- 
 suit and discovery of truth, his capability of attaining 
 infinite perfection, his moral ability for everything noble 
 and virtuous, — in a word, the maxims of the wise, re- 
 echoed and admired in every age and every school, were 
 presented to my mind in their true colours. I learned 
 from the Bible that God, Who knows what this wisdom is, 
 has pronounced it folly. 
 
 "You may well conceive, my much respected friend, 
 that this entire revolution in my sentiments must have 
 produced as great a change in the education and manage- 
 ment of my pupils. I thought it my duty to give them 
 the truth just as God has revealed it to man by His Son. 
 Tlie Holy Bibh was introduced into my school. Each 
 child had a copy of his own ; mine was always upon my 
 table ; and this blessed book of heavenly wisdom be- 
 came our treasury, from which we daily drew forth true 
 knowledge. 
 
 " What a change, in a short period, was thus effected in 
 the economy of the school, by means of a few just prin- 
 
NOBLE ATTITUDE TOWARDS HIS PUPILS. 73 
 
 ciples inculcated in the minds of the children ! I particu- 
 larly impressed upon them the necessity of having their 
 hearts and understandings renewed by the Spirit of God, 
 before they could acquire any real wisdom or solid virtue, 
 — that is to say, any holiness. 
 
 " So much friendly intercourse and uninterrupted confi- 
 dence prevailed thereby between my scholars and myself, 
 that we seemed rather to be friends and relations than 
 master and pupils. I told them their faults, but I did not 
 palliate my own, and I encouraged my young friends to 
 admonish me with all confidence." 
 
 He then proceeds to illustrate the thorough respectful, 
 and, at the same time, candid way in which his boys one 
 day took him at his word. I quote it as he related it 
 in 1842 to some friends in Holland. 
 
 " At that time I had the bad habit of saying, ' Mon Dleu, 
 Old ! mon Dieu, non ! ' and my pupils imitated it. Accord- 
 ingly, I said to them one day, 'Let us make a bargain ; I'll 
 take you up whenever you say that, and you '11 take me up 
 whenever I do.' It was agreed, and I kept strict watch 
 over my words, from a desire certainly not to commit the 
 fault, but from a desire also, I must confess, not to be 
 pulled up by my lads. But one day, after I had been 
 s];)eaking impulsively to one of them, suddenly the whole 
 school rose up and remained standing in silence. ' What 
 is the matter, my boys ? ' I a sked. Very, very respectfully 
 the senior answered, ' You have just said, " Mon Dieu, oui," 
 sir.' " My father thanked them, and, kneeling down with 
 them, prayed to be forgiven, and delivered from that sin ; 
 and, " thank God," he adds, " from that day to this I have 
 never, I believe, been guilty of the same offence." 
 
74 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAX. 
 
 But to return to his letter to ]Mr Campbell. He con- 
 tinues the subject of it by relating to his friend the 
 struggles evinced by many of his pupils with the word of 
 truth. " It assailed their pride," he says, " but it was 
 seldom that the love of their God and Saviour failed where 
 the terrors of the law proved entirely ineffectual ; and to 
 that love I constantly ajjpealed. I often prayed with 
 them, but I never judged or denounced them. As a rule, 
 I asserted my authority as little as possible, that I might 
 make the authority of God and His Word their great 
 standard. ]\Iy school was an evangelical theocracy." 
 
 Having thus imfolded thoroughly the new principles by 
 which he was actuated, he proceeds to indicate the results 
 which followed from putting them in practice. This was 
 shown, he urges, in the startling difference between a boy 
 brought up on a worldly system, with only the glory of 
 the world to stimulate his ambitions in duty, and a 
 Christian student comparing his present attainments with 
 what his God and Saviour would have him to be. The 
 latter estimate had growth not by a worldly standard, but 
 by the perfect stature of the fulness that is in Christ, by 
 which, though still a child, he must be tried. 
 
 So that it LS not the emulation which the world em- 
 ploys and admires, that urges the j)ious disciple of Christ 
 to press forward in the career of study and duty ; it is 
 the good pleasure of Ids Lord. He walks at liberty, he 
 does more than strictly follow the narrow path of obedi- 
 ence, he goes before it, because he loves Him Whom he 
 serves, and delights in His holy and blessed will. 
 
 "During the two or three years that I adopted this plan 
 with my scholars, I universally found that a child whom 
 
TOXE OF THE SCHOOL. 
 
 ib 
 
 the Lord has enlightened is as capable of comprehending 
 the eternal truths of the word of life, as any science wliich 
 can he communicated to him ; and that the Word of God 
 imparts an elevation, a dignity, an energy, which he can- 
 not receive from any worldly motive." 
 
 He caused to be written up in large characters on the 
 walls of his school those words of Holy Scripture : " To 
 whomsoever much is given, of them shall much be re- 
 quired; " and it was by that text that he roused the boys 
 to diligence. :\Ioreover, he teUs us that attention paid by 
 each of the pupils to his own proper work, and kindliest 
 conduct towards the weaker and younger, had entirely 
 superseded the old spirit of emy and rivalry, while, at the 
 same time, the less gifted among them ran no further risk of 
 being discouraged. AlYer having adduced several striking 
 niustrations of this fact, he goes on to tell his correspon° 
 dent how one day the whole class came to him in a body 
 without his having been in the smallest degTee made 
 aware of their intention, and restored to him certain silver 
 medals which he had made for them some time back as 
 rewards of conspicuous merit, beseeching him to take them 
 back and seU them for the benefit of a coUection for a 
 benevolent purpose. 
 
 I thought it best to give the above narrative in my 
 father's own words, as not only placing the flicts them- 
 selves before us, but also in the particular light in which 
 he regarded them. 
 
 " All this time," so the letter resumes, " the book of 
 God was not established noiselessly among the books of 
 the world. ^lany voices were raised in protest against 
 the ' innovation ! ' " Xot indeed that it must be supposed 
 
76 LIFE OF CJESAB MALAK 
 
 that my father, carried away by his S^rdour, had introduced 
 into the school a system of religious teaching not contem- 
 plated by statute. For such teaching was not merely part 
 of the allotted work of each master, but my father was 
 so far from exhibiting any rash zeal, that he had been the 
 first to request the school authorities — the Conq^agnie 
 Academique and his brother masters — to sanction the 
 introduction of the present system, by wdiich their teach- 
 ing is intrusted to the specially appointed chaplain. 
 "What was objected to was not the fact of the religious 
 instruction, but his " method " of imparting it. Xow, apart 
 from the Christian spirit and earnestness which breathed 
 through it, and which they could scarcely have made the 
 subject of an official censure, his " method " differed in no 
 other respect from the plan he had previously followed, 
 except in the fact that he had introduced the Bible into 
 the class, thouoh not until he had first obtained the con- 
 sent of the principal. 
 
 He was not, however, left without occasional encouraixe- 
 ment in his work. "Shortly after my conversion," he 
 writes, " an aged and very worthy pastor, who ^dsited the 
 school from time to time, said to me once, on going away, 
 ' How thankful I am to see you working here like a true 
 missionary!'" Then having assured him that he never 
 forgot his work in his private prayers, he adds, ' From that 
 day I felt I could never come to my class without first 
 saying to myself, AVhatever you are in your work here, 
 be a true missionary !'" 
 
 This circumstance shows him as already being what 
 his entire after career proved him to be, not only a man of 
 prayer, but also one who up to the very end was eminently 
 
DEPRIVED OF HIS MASTERSHIP. 77 
 
 a missionary. His true character appears also in the 
 effect produced upon him by the opposition of which he 
 found himself to be the object. "As for me," he con- 
 tinues, " I recognised in all this that the work was not of 
 the world, and I strengthened myself in the Lord." 
 
 And much he needed that strength and that reliance. 
 In spite of the continued success of his teaching, in spite 
 of the increasing attachment felt towards him by his 
 boys and their parents, the academical authorities, — after 
 long discussion, in which, says a contemporary, (Schiche- 
 dantz,) Malan exhibited the utmost moderation and frank- 
 ness, — decided, without regard to the numberless representa- 
 tions made in his favour, to deprive him of the post he had 
 occupied for nine years. 
 
 Setting aside mere idle pretexts, on which those who 
 devised them did not venture to insist, the great reason 
 which they alleged was that Malan had introduced the 
 Bible into his class as a text-book, and that, though he 
 declared in the most explicit terms not to have even had 
 the thought of opposing the catechism in teaching his 
 pupils, he would not bind himself to observe in his religious 
 instruction the precise terms of that manual." 
 
 " This decree of the Compagnie Academique," writes M. 
 Bost, a year afterwards, " required the sanction of the execu- 
 tive council of the republic. Malan handed in an appeal. 
 He p-oved in that remarkable document (Schichedantz 
 calls it a model of temperate and modest argument,) that 
 ' for this rule to be binding it ought to be backed up either 
 by some known law, or by some ecclesiastical decree in 
 force, or by some established regulation, or else by some 
 agreement previously entered into with himself, and bind- 
 
78 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 infj on his conscience.' After liavincj demonstrated that 
 none of these supports existed, he replies as follows to the 
 objection, that such was the good pleasure of his lawful 
 superiors : — 
 
 " 'But, Eight Honourable Sirs, leaving out of the question 
 for a moment the theological point which lies at the root 
 of the matter, and restricting myself entirely to a matter 
 of right and fact, apart from the consideration that there is 
 a God above, before Whose supreme authority in His direc- 
 tion of my conduct in religious matters, all earthly rule 
 must give way, and even while I admit that the school 
 authorities on the inspection of studies have undoubted 
 right to lay down at their pleasure this or that rule for 
 imparting secular teaching — this argument by no means 
 holds good with reference to spiritual instruction. Here 
 they cease to possess arbitrary power ; and even though 
 I acknowledged their good pleasure as an authority 
 exacting my conscientious submission, how am I to 
 ascertain it in sufficiently precise terms to rule my 
 system by its stipulations ? 
 
 "'Surely it will never be maintained that such an 
 authority in a matter of supreme importance resides in the 
 doubtful suggestions, the uncertain and often contradictory 
 opinions, of the scattered individual members of a public 
 body. I am well assured indeed, for they have said as 
 much in my hearing, that some of them deny the divinity 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ, and original sin ; others, the effi- 
 cacy of divine grace ; and the greater number of them, a 
 free salvation. These are points about which I have heard 
 them disputing amongst themselves ; so that, though they 
 may constitute in themselves an authoritative corporation, 
 
BEMONSTRANCE. 79 
 
 yet forasmiicli as tliey can adduce no definite precise 
 authentic official declaration of united sentiment, ought I 
 to seek to please one of them at the expense of the other ; 
 or renounce the collective convictions of my faith in favour 
 of the vacillating theories of superiors, who rather allow 
 men to guess at their opinions than receive them openly 
 from their lips ? Had they set before me some known con- 
 fession of faith, setting forth such and such dogmas proved 
 by them, and given to me as a guide for my teaching— my 
 adhesion being obtained to its contents— and had I after- 
 wards departed from it, I should most assuredly have been 
 greatly to blame. But as that never was the case, is not 
 the case now, but, on the contrary, the Venerable As- 
 sembly has expressly discarded all such confessions, have I 
 not been, I respectfuUy submit, am I not, in the right, after 
 the spirit of our glorious Eeformation, in selecting for 
 myself that confession which seemed to me to be the most 
 scriptural — the confession of the Helvetian Churches, 
 admitted and sworn to throughout our confederate Protes- 
 tant cantons, and to which, in better days, Geneva herself 
 had subscribed ? 
 
 Moreover, is it not rather inconsistent on their part 
 thus to renounce all positive confessions, and at the same 
 time to cashier one of their masters who, in consequence of 
 this very act of theirs, finds himself absolutely free to teach 
 according to the faith, simi% because his method of deal- 
 ing with Holy Scripture does not happen to accord with 
 the views of some of his superiors, who, nevertheless, have 
 established no rule in the matter ? Let the Compagnie 
 state their mind clearly. Let them teU me authoritatively 
 what they would have me teach, what are the dogmas they 
 
80 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 would repudiate, to wliat confession of faitli they would tie 
 me down. This they can do if they like ; but so long as 
 they think it expedient to maintain their present discreet 
 silence on this point, they cannot righteously reproach me 
 with ignorance of it.' He then concludes by representing 
 that, ' to allow the decree of the Compagnie to stand upon 
 no other authority but the mere will and pleasure of that 
 body, would be to introduce arbitraiy law, and set might 
 and oppression over right and justice.' " 
 
 Passing on to the objection that his teaching was 
 beyond the comprehension of his pupils, he recalls the 
 attention of the magistrates whom he is addressing to the 
 instruction they themselves had received in their child- 
 hood, and what prevailed, at the time he was speaking, in 
 other Protestant countries. He communicates his own 
 schoolroom experience, and pointing out the obvious differ- 
 ence between the case of those children of 'orthodox 
 families,' and those whose parents showed themselves in- 
 different as far as the doctrine of the gospel was concerned, 
 he appeals to them to decide whether the day had actually 
 arrived in which those blessed and eternal verities could 
 injure those whom they were intended to save. 
 
 In a letter to one of the clergy, published at the same 
 time, my father speaks still more plainly : — 
 
 " I do assure you, were it only a question of my indi- 
 vidual right, however certain I might be of the integrity of 
 my motives, I would not hesitate a moment to acquiesce 
 in their judgment. I would submit willingly to the charge 
 of rashness, precipitation, and even culpability; and I 
 would renounce utterly all attempts at self-defence, out of 
 sole regard for their credit and reputation. If any steps I 
 
LETTER TO THE RECTOR. 81 
 
 may have taken, any words of mine, my mode of argument, 
 any collateral inferences of mine, have wounded in any 
 way either propriety or charity, it has been by no intention 
 of mine; and were this proved to me, I would hasten to 
 repair my error. As touching this point, sir, I am ready 
 to make all public allowance. For the form I gave to my 
 protest, I alone am responsible; any defects in it, put to 
 my account exclusively; hence it is for me alone to elimi- 
 nate them. But as for the main question at issue, as for 
 the principles and doctrine involved, it is not I alone who 
 am concerned here ; it is not for me to give way in any- 
 thing, as though these were mere personal matters. ' It is 
 required of stewards, that a man be found faithful' And 
 what am I in my capacity of a Christian master but a 
 steward of the truth of God committed to my keeping ?" 
 
 My father foresaw, however, that the steps he had taken 
 would be productive of no good result. A letter which he 
 addressed to the rector of the academy shows the spirit in 
 which he contemplated this possibility. 
 
 "Let the venerable Campagnie Academique," he writes, 
 " act as their wisdom and prudence dictate. Should they 
 decide to deprive me of the post entrusted to me by 
 another authority, and confirmed to me by themselves, I 
 should hold their resolve to be the result of tlie sovereign 
 and most gracious will of Him Who directs all the even'ts 
 of this world. Such a decree would deprive me of my 
 only means of support for my family. I shall find myself 
 without any apparent resources; but in perfect reliance, 
 through divine grace, on my adorable Master, to Whose 
 gracious keeping I commit all my affairs, I shall reverently 
 and joyfully submit to all His wisdom may ordain." 
 
82 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 Umbrage has been taken at the word " hero " applied to 
 him by De Goltz. N'o one, however, reading these letters 
 could help acknowledging that it was not without reason 
 that the writer of them, in respect of the spirit that ani- 
 mated him, was compared to Luther at Worms. Of course 
 there was at stake only the rejection of an unknown school- 
 master from a post of public instruction in a small city, 
 but, at the same time, be it remembered, it is not the 
 circumstances that invest it, which, in themselves, consti- 
 tute the heroism of a believer's faith. 
 
 Fifteen days after, his appeal had been lodged with the 
 council of state, on the 4th of November. That body con- 
 firmed the judgment of the Compagnie Academique, a 
 decision which was at once intimated to my father on the 
 6th of the same month, without any, even the most ordin- 
 ary, marks of courtesy and consideration, which, under the 
 circumstances, mioht have been exhibited. He was told 
 on the Friday evening that his class would be undertaken 
 by his successor on the Monday morning. He took leave of 
 his boys by dictating to them '' Eules for the Guidance of a 
 Young Christian," and withdrew to a house which he had 
 just purchased from his father in the " Pre I'Eveque." 
 
 Feeling confident from the first that his appeal against 
 the sentence of deprivation (most unjust as he always felt 
 it to be) would certainly fail, while my mother herself, at 
 this sorrowful crisis, failed to rise to his standard of 
 unquestioning reliance, he never suffered himself to be 
 cast down, but set to work at once to face the difiiculties 
 of the position to which he had been reduced. 
 
 Nor did He, in Whom he trusted, fail His faithful 
 servant ? Let the reader mark the testimony of a well- 
 
PnoriDENTIAL AID. 83 
 
 known and muoh-esteemed servant of God upon tins point 
 Malan's enemies did all in their power to plnnge that 
 good man, with his wife and nnmerons family, into the 
 deepest penury, into absolute destitution. At this critical 
 moment, a few friends, chiefly English and Wurtemburc^ers 
 stepped forward, and, partly by a loan, and partly by a 
 respectful present, in which the givers felt themselves the 
 most obliged, saved this oppressed and faithful servant 
 of Christ from sinking into the extremity of distress. 
 From that time, M. Malan has laboured to support him- 
 self and his large family by taking pupils." 
 
 I have only just been made cognisant of this circum- 
 stance, but my father mentioned to me an incident of the 
 same nature which occurred at the close of his tenure of 
 his office, which I will proceed to relate. 
 
 When he was on the point of purchasing the house in 
 tiie Pre lEveque, which he had previously rented from my 
 grandfather, he suddenly found himself, by the fault of a 
 third person, unable to pay the money on the prescribed 
 day Meanwhile, it was absolutely essential that his father 
 should have it. After a night of deep anxiety and fervent 
 prayer, he betook himself to his schoolroom on the morning 
 of the day in question. While he was giving the usual 
 essons, and was engaged in secret prayer to God to show 
 him a way of escape from his distress, he saw a stranger at 
 the class-room door, who made him a sign to come out 
 The visitor proved to be an Englishman who happened to 
 be passing through Geneva; and though he was not per- 
 sonally acquainted with my father, took the greatest inte- 
 rest m all that had befallen him. He then went on to tell 
 him that he had heard of the embarrassment in which he 
 
84 LIFE OF Cu^SAR MALAN. 
 
 was placed through uo fault of his, and begged to be 
 allowed to advance the necessary money. j\Iy father re- 
 ceived it as though it had come from God Himself. He 
 was soon enabled to repay it, and the kindly assistance laid 
 the foundation of a lasting friendship. 
 
 This circumstance, in itself so purely ordinary, did not 
 fail to produce a deep impression on my father's mind. 
 Even in his old age he loved to recall it, as a proof of the 
 tender care of his heavenly Father. 
 
 From that time his pupils, to whom Dr Pye Smith re- 
 fers, and the proceeds of his literary works, proved his 
 chief means of subsistence. As we shall yet have occasion 
 to see, he never, except in the isolated instances we have 
 just recorded, received any regular assistance of any kind 
 whatever. At the commencement, especially, he had nearly 
 fourteen boarders in his house, chiefly English. At first 
 young men, afterwards young ladies. 
 
 Thenceforth the sole remainino; link attachincf him to 
 his country was his position as minister of the gospel in 
 the Church of Geneva, an office the functions of which he 
 was forbidden to discharge, though its of&cial status re- 
 mained to him. Every one urged him to leave a place 
 where, as a minister, his hands were tied. He himself was 
 unable to decide upon taking the step. First, undoubt- 
 edly, because he was unwilling to withdraw in the pre- 
 sence of a measure, as he thought, illegal, and which must, 
 he concluded, die a natural death in the course of time — of 
 a decision which he was compelled to regard as proceeding 
 from the direction of the National Church being for a while 
 in the hands of a mere section which, looking merely at its 
 heterodoxy, could not be uppermost long. This was not, 
 
'' CAST nOJFiY, BUT NOT DESTROYED^ 85 
 
 however, the only motive which induced him to brave the 
 opposition of the national clergy and the excesses of a 
 mob, only too ready to insult a man marked out for their 
 attacks by liis clerical superiors. A higher, deeper feeling 
 actuated his conduct : the simple, earnest desire to pro- 
 claim to his fellow-citizens that message of salvation which 
 had brought such blessedness to himself; to testify the 
 faith of Christ in the midst of his own people, wdiom, the 
 more thoroughly he believed them to be the victims of 
 deadly error, the more ardently he loved ; while he longed 
 with his whole soul to carry out his ordination vow in 
 seeking to evangelise them * 
 
 Having issued a publication entitled, " Documents rela- 
 tive to the Deposition of the minister Malan from his Llas- 
 tership," he set himself to work to compass this great end. 
 Remitting no effort, either by letter or by any other means, 
 
 * A letter written by my fatlier to Dr Mason, dated Havre, April the 
 2d, 1819, shows us, in all their fervency, the sentiments which then ani- 
 mated him. — {Memoirs of Dr Mason, p. 507.) " My good and respected 
 friend, — -What events in Geneva since your departure ! How mightily 
 does the Lord work ! What vigorous and sustained wrestling ! Heresy 
 mast tremble ! The idol has feet of clay ; we will strike them, and it will 
 crumble, to the shame of those who have adored it. Already it has received 
 a mortal blow. . . . There is a holy people at Geneva. We have only a 
 little strength, but He has permitted us to confess His name, and to keep 
 the word of His patience. . . . Oh, how excellent, how sweet, and dear to 
 my heart is the reproach of Christ with which I have been covered ! What 
 faithfulness, what tenderness in our kind Saviour ! I remember to have 
 seen your tears flow in speaking of that best of masters. At that time I 
 did not understand these sentiments as I do now. I had not yet learned in 
 the happy school of tribulation, that it is good to he afflicted. Let us, dear 
 doctor, go on boldly and sincerely. See ! life is so short, so little a thing ! It 
 will soon be ended. We shall then see Christ, Yes, we ourselves shall see 
 Him Whom we love and follow without seeing. Oh, what servant could be 
 so unworthy, so obstinate, as to hesitate and calculate with himself ! No, 
 no, my brother, we will not do it." 
 
S6 LIFE OF CjFSAB MALAN. 
 
 to induce the Compagnie to reconsider tlieir steps — efforts 
 wliicli, however, were wholly unnoticed — he preached as 
 often as he possibly could at Ferney, and was the first 
 to earn the title Momier, applied to him in the month of 
 October in that year, an epithet which has remained as a 
 popular byword awarded to any one whose piety, or even 
 moral strictness only, may have condemned, by painful 
 contrast, surrounding laxity. In the month of September 
 he commenced devotional meetings in his house, and there, 
 too, he conducted his Sunday-schooL Soon afterwards he 
 was compelled to adjourn for want of room to a small 
 house which he had had constructed in his garden. 
 
 His meetings were such as are now frequent in every 
 part of Geneva. " Eeading and meditation over the word," 
 says Schichedantz, (to whose mind they recalled the " Col- 
 legia pretatis" of Spener,) " occupied the principal time of 
 those assembled ; a psalm was then sung, followed by an 
 extempore prayer from some one of those present, or by 
 one borrowed from the collections of Osterwald or Dodd- 
 ridge." " These little meetings," says my father, " differed 
 in nothing from the ordinary devotion in numerous fami- 
 lies." By degrees, for order's sake, he conducted them 
 entirely himself. They were held frequently during the 
 week, in the morning or evening ; and on the Sunday at 
 an hour in no way interfering with the time of public wor- 
 ship at the various churches. About one hundred and fifty 
 people came in the evening, in the morning generally fifty. 
 
 As the population was greatly excited by the reports 
 circulated with reference to these evening meetings, Malan 
 published a little tract entitled " Come and See," in which 
 he reasserted his attachment to the National Church. At 
 
ENCOURAGEMENTS. 87 
 
 this time lie had in no way felt himself compelled to 
 secede. He had not attached himself to ''the little 
 Church," and communicated regularly with his family in 
 the public temples. 
 
 All this time he was receiving continual encourage- 
 ment, not only from old friends, but from strangers also. 
 Gaussen writes to him, in reference to his published " Docu- 
 ments/' e^c, " I bless God for the correspondence you 
 have just issued. I think your doing so, right and service- 
 able — a religious duty, and an absolute necessity." Charles 
 Eien, also one of his fellow- students, wrote a letter to him 
 full of ardour and piety. I only wish I could quote it 
 entire. His triumphant death at the outset of his de- 
 voted ministry will never be forgotten by those who 
 watched with fondest interest over the early days of this 
 awakening. I must confine myself, how^ever, to the con- 
 cluding paragraph, which gives a clue to the kind of atmos- 
 phere in which Malan and his friends lived. 
 
 It was dated from Fredericia, January 29, 1819, and 
 is addressed to Mr Malan, a faithful minister of Jesus 
 Christ. Its contents glow with holy enthusiasm, and 
 seem to be as it were lighted up with a realised view of 
 heavenly glory. 
 
 " Vitam dat Christus ! Such has been the thought in 
 my mind a thousand times in recurring to you and your 
 history, my dear excellent brother ; compassionating from 
 the bottom of my heart your troubles and anxieties, and 
 blessing God for enabling you to stand firm by the cause 
 of Christ. What a blessed thing it is, dear brother, to be 
 enabled to do anything in the service of such a IMaster ! 
 To Him I render continual thanks for all that He has 
 
88 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAN. 
 
 done in strengthening His servant to revive the pure 
 teaching of His word in our Sion. What He has done in 
 your case is evident : freeing you from a thousand 
 entanglements of earth to employ you more thoroughly in 
 His work. Coura<:fe, brother ! let us fierht the Cfood fisrht ! 
 Tell me all about your work, my dear friend ; what re- 
 sults have followed from your meetings ; how your 
 Sunday-school is prospering." After detailing the success 
 which had attended on his adoption of " Haldane's j^han " — 
 the plan, that is, of using Scripture itself as a universal 
 commentary, and making those present at Scri^^ture- 
 readings turn up the required passages — he goes on to 
 speak of a new orthodox theological society, about which 
 Gaussen had just been writing to him : — 
 
 " With the utmost heartiness I give you the hand of 
 fellowship. In associations, where unity can only be 
 maintained by dissimulating opinions, the word is in- 
 evitably silenced without any of its fruit being exhibited. 
 .... You have done well in publishing your correspon- 
 dence with the authorities. Truth must shine out even- 
 tually in all its glory. To declare war against sin and 
 unbelief — to show the utmost tenderness, meanwhile, to 
 sinners and unbelievers — this is our task. Let us seek to 
 conquer our enemies rather by our example than by our 
 words. ISTor let us cease to join in earnest prayer for their 
 conversion to God." 
 
 I would add here a few extracts from a letter addressed 
 at that time to my father by the Eev. T. Fry, rector of 
 Emberton, who had just taken up his defence in England, 
 (in his Heresia3 Mastix) : — 
 
 " October 22, 1821. — I am deeply interested in what the 
 
LOUD BODEN. 89 
 
 Lord is doing by you. It would be presumptuous in me 
 to offer you advice in the perilous path you are treading. 
 It will, however, strengthen and comfort your hands (for 
 it would comfort an apostle) to know that very many are 
 offering prayers in your behalf, that they sympathise in 
 your sufferings, and are rejoicing in your faith, your zeal, 
 and your love. There is proof that these prayers have been 
 heard, for you breathe the mind of Christ, and we have 
 read your letters with tears of thankfulness. I cannot 
 form a just idea of your difficulties, and yet I can conceive 
 you will find new trials await you, and it wiU be well you 
 should be prepared to meet them. A Eeformer is hated of 
 Satan above all men. The world was for a time the great 
 enemy of Calvin and Luther ; but, as his malice ceased, 
 the tares sprung up amongst the wheat, and so it will pro- 
 bably be with you. There will be things to grieve you 
 amongst yourselves, and sorer trials than the opposition of 
 ignorant men. I take it for granted you will be exercised 
 in this way, and that you will find the words true, ' A 
 man's foes are often those of his own household.' Every 
 covenant mercy be yours ! May you long live blessed 
 and blessing, having many seals to your ministry, and 
 many souls for your exceeding great rcAvard !" 
 
 It was at that time, too, that my father received a letter 
 from a British nobleman, the Earl of Eoden, then a perfect 
 stranger to him, but who became afterwards his intimate 
 friend. " Day after day, brother, in family worship and in 
 private prayer, I offer my humble but earnest intercession 
 for you and your work." Five and twenty years after- 
 wards my father delighted to record the joy and thanks- 
 Cfivino" with which he had learnt tliat tlie children of God 
 
90 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 were being stirred up to pray for liim. About the same 
 time a German princess, the Duchess Henrietta of Wlir- 
 temberg, who happened to be staying at Geneva with her 
 daughters, attended his meetings regularly, her daughters 
 accompanying her. These ladies, more than one of whom 
 eventually shared a throne, retained a most lively recollec- 
 tion of my father's teaching. One of them, the Arch- 
 duchess Mary, Palatine of Hungary, a lady quoted for the 
 strength and superiority of her mind, in a letter to my 
 father, dated 1843, speaks of "this Malan whose explanation 
 of the loth of John, given to us by him in June 1819, will 
 never be forgotten by me." In another letter she thanks 
 him again " for the ineffaceable words which she had heard 
 from his lips at Geneva in 1819, and which still resounded 
 in her soul." While their mother, who, at the close of her 
 long life — a life full of blessing and delight to all who 
 knew her — spoke of him to me as " her father in the faith," 
 and entrusted to the man who had been ostracised by the 
 Genevan clergy the religious instruction of two young 
 princes of her family. 
 
 It was at the commencement of the year 1819, on his 
 return from a trip to England, where he had been visiting 
 an American who was anxious to send his sons to him, 
 that he agreed, after much pressing on the part of those 
 who had been in the habit of attending regularly on his 
 ministrations, to allow himself to be regarded thenceforth 
 as their pastor. This, of course, was a first step towards 
 secession, though he was not aware of it, and his oppo- 
 nents w^ere not slow in convincmg him that they so 
 regarded it. At the same time, however, he drew nearer 
 in the spirit to M. Empeytaz. This appears not only from 
 
APPEAL FOR A CHURCH. 91 
 
 certain letters which passed between liim and my motlier, 
 but also in the aj^plication itself, now about to be referred 
 to ; and also, a year later, in his " Declaration of Fidelity 
 to the Church of Geneva," in which he publicly espoused 
 the rights of the Church, called at that time " The Church 
 of the Bourg de Four." 
 
 Meanwhile, seeing that the number of his hearers was 
 steadily on the increase, he applied to the Council of 
 State for permission to use one of the town churches. 
 After having stated how, under the influence of the 
 awakening which had been spreading for the last ten 
 years, certain Christians had been compelled, for con- 
 science sake, to separate from the National Church, 
 " There are others," he added — " I speak of ourselves, 
 right hon. sirs — who have felt it a duty to remain, and j^ro- 
 test from within the bosom of the Church, against the 
 errors from which she is suffering." He then goes on to 
 mention the violent opposition of which they had been, 
 and still were, the objects, and defends his brethren and 
 himself from the charge of enthusiasm, fanaticism, or am- 
 bition. He recalls to the minds of those whom he is 
 addressing the fact that their doctrines were such as their 
 fathers professed, and were the same as those held by all 
 the Eeformed Churches. '' Hence," he adds, " right lion, 
 sirs, we Genevan Calvinists look upon ourselves as the 
 persecuted, but not the less faithful, Genevan Church, 
 despised by the world, ])ut graciously owned of God." 
 Then, in the name of their rights and privileges as citizens, 
 he asks the authorities to restore them that of which they 
 had been unjustly deprived — liberty to exercise their 
 Christian faith, the faith of old time — to extend to those 
 
92 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 wlio had remained true to that faith the benefits of the 
 glorious reformation enjoyed by their brethren, whether 
 Lutherans, German Calvinists, or Anglicans, by conceding 
 to them the use of a church in the city. 
 
 The appeal wound up as follows : — 
 
 " Fathers of our country ! we ask no strange favour, 
 but an ancient right at your hands ; we ask it reverently of 
 our natural protectors. We ask no mere temporal, no 
 needless boon — we seek the greatest blessing man can 
 desire, and we implore you to listen to our prayer. We 
 crave but free leave to worship publicly our common 
 Lord and Saviour. 'Eot only as citizens and your servants, 
 but as the redeemed of Christ we address you, in His 
 name. Our prayer respects not merely the interests of 
 the moment. It is an eternal need that we ask you to 
 consider. We urge our request in the midst of no worldly 
 surroundings. We bear it and you to the throne of the 
 Son of man, and it is there, as ministers of God, that we 
 present you our petition." 
 
 The petition having been read in council on the 28th 
 Dec. 1819, it was ruled that there was no occasion for 
 deliberation. 
 
 My father now resolved to build a chapel in his garden. 
 He proceeded to do it in the year 1820, after having ob- 
 tained the sanction of the magistrates, on the understand- 
 ing " that he had no intention of disturbing the peace of 
 the state." 
 
 Thus he took up a definite position as an independent 
 minister. And here it will be as well to terminate all 
 reference to, or exposure of, his official relation with the 
 Established Church, though his actual secession did not 
 
RUPTURE WITH THE NATIONAL CHURCH. 93 
 
 occur till 1823. Of this final rupture I will first give a 
 concise history, and then express an individual opinion on 
 the merits of the whole question. 
 
 At the time he built his chapel he looked upon it in no 
 other light than as a house of prayer, where he might have 
 liberty to preach the gospel to his fellow-citizens. This 
 position of mere preacher, however, he was soon compelled 
 to abandon. '' In spite of the opposition which he had 
 to encounter," says De Goltz, " his influence, and the 
 number of those who attended his meetings, increased 
 rapidly," till, by degrees, as we have seen, he allowed him- 
 self to be regarded as a pastor, though declining to 
 administer the sacraments in his exceptional position. He 
 had prepared some young people for the communion with- 
 out the sanction of their respective ministers; he had 
 encouraged certain Eomanists who had been converted to 
 the Protestant faith to attend the Lord's Supper, without 
 requiring from them the abjuration of their former creed, 
 in such cases strictly required by the Church of Geneva. 
 That Church, indeed, havino- lon^- lost sii'lit of reliiiious 
 freedom, the essential characteristic of an evangelical 
 ministry, and altogether confounding that ministry with 
 the particular office of those ap^^ointed to exercise its func- 
 tions within her pale, regarded such a course of proceed- 
 ing not only as a breach of good order, but as a deliberate 
 outrage on the rights and prerogatives of her clergy. It 
 is notorious that the greater the vagueness of assumed 
 rights, the greater the jealousy with which such rights are 
 guarded. 
 
 As far as Malan was concerned, he was by no means con- 
 scious of having given occasion for their sentiments. lie- 
 
94 LIFE OF C^FSAE MALAK 
 
 garcling liis position simply from a spiritual point of view, 
 lie felt that his ministry was no charge for which he was 
 accountable to those who had forbidden him all exercise 
 of the pastoral calling, but a holy trust confided to him 
 directly by God Himself. Its duties appeared to him 
 to involve obligations which he was called upon to fulfil 
 in virtue of an office, not indeed bestowed, but merely 
 recognised by his ordination in the Church of Geneva. 
 
 Then it was that the Assembly, without heeding a dis- 
 tinction with which, as Protestant teachers, they ought to 
 have been familiar, and confining themselves rigorously to 
 their position of purely administrative authority, wound up 
 their attacks by decreeing his " suspension " from his eccle- 
 siastical functions — the consistory proposing to the Council 
 of State, in April 1823, a resolution to that effect. That 
 civil body, however, putting the interests of general good 
 order above those of ecclesiastical rights, called upon the 
 appellants to make every effort to bring about a peaceable 
 arrangement of the whole controversy. 
 
 Meanwhile, the subject of their negotiations was occupied 
 entirely with his pastoral and missionary work. Having 
 had no communication with the higher powers for the last 
 five or six years, he was, to quote his own words, "ex- 
 tremely surprised at the sudden summons to appear in his 
 own behalf before the consistory." 
 
 He complied with that command, first in April, and sub- 
 sequently in July, in the same year. At his examination, 
 and afterwards by letter, he endeavoured to explain to the 
 consistory that it was not till he had found that all his 
 communications in connection with his exclusion from the 
 national pulpit (addressed by liim both to the clerical 
 
NO '^ sectary:' 95 
 
 autliorities and also to the magistrates) were passed over 
 in silence, that he decided first on holding devotional 
 meetings in his honse, and subsequently in a house of prayer 
 built in his garden, where he took God to witness he had 
 preached no doctrine contrary to those held by the Church 
 of Geneva from its earliest date. " I never was a sectary," 
 he exclaimed, "God knows, as will be seen in that day 
 when the secrets of all hearts will be disclosed. I have 
 never been a schismatic ; no schismatic ever sought, and 
 that repeatedly, to be heard, to be judged, to be criticised. 
 It has been mine to guard the faith, and the ' good thing ' 
 of Scripture as it was committed to me. This much I have 
 sought to do, after the strength which God vouchsafed me. 
 "Beyond all doubt, sirs, in taking this course I have 
 suffered much. It has been with no little sorroAV that I 
 have found myself at war with those whom I have been 
 accustomed to regard as fathers and brethren, among whom 
 it would have been an easier and pleasanter task to have 
 exercised my ministry quietly, than to enter upon a cruelly 
 isolated path of opposition, with the feeling that I was 
 drawing down upon myself their grave displeasure. Don't 
 suppose for a moment, sirs, that in all this six years' con- 
 flict I could forget, or have ever forgotten, that I have been 
 brought up in your midst, and that I have received from 
 you many and many a 2')roof of love and esteem. I cherish 
 the consciousness of this in my inmost soul ; and it is the 
 grateful emotion, begotten of this consciousness, which has 
 made it so hard a task to me to acquit myself of the higher 
 duty of fidelity to my Lord and Master, and in so doing to 
 appear as the opponent of your authority, incurring the 
 penalty of your decided disapproval." 
 
96 LIFE OF CAESAR MALAX. 
 
 Having read tliis defence, tlie consistory exacting simply 
 a statement of liis future intentions, to be explicitly de- 
 livered on certain heads submitted to him, touching the 
 requirements of ecclesiastical discipline ; and Malan declin- 
 ing to make any specific promise, except with the reserva- 
 tion, "According to the Lord;" this reservation was 
 looked upon as a positive refusal, and sentence of absolute 
 suspension was accordingly pronounced. 
 
 Once more he had to present himself to hear the judg- 
 ment given, together with a confirmatory decree from the 
 Council of State. This was to the effect, that in conse- 
 quence of his numerous acts of insubordination, he was 
 deprived of his ecclesiastical status in the canton of Geneva. 
 As soon as the Moderator had concluded liis address, my 
 father rose, bowed to the assembly, and withdrew without 
 uttering a single word. He was not to leave that hall, 
 however, for the last time, without a signal proof of the 
 loving-kindness of his God. In a letter written on the fol- 
 lowing day to a friend, he says : — 
 
 "My joy, since yesterday, has been very great. That 
 day was the happiest in my life. I had wished to be 
 enabled to bear witness for the truth, and my prayer was 
 abundantly answered." Having detailed the events of that 
 memorable episode in his life, he goes on to say, " As I was 
 leaving the hall, and just as I reached the entrance, a 
 pastor left his place and came up to me in the presence of 
 the entire assembly. It was the worthy Gaussen. He 
 seized me warmly b}" the hand, and detained me for a 
 moment before them all. ]May God remember him, and 
 deal graciously by him, in the hour of his need ! " 
 
 Every one knows how that prayer was answered, wheu, 
 
• LETTER TO THE COUNCIL OF STATE. 97 
 
 eiglit years afterwards, Gaiissen liimself was subjected to 
 the same ordeal. 
 
 " Xow I can truly say I have finished the work which 
 was given me to do. God only knows His own purposes, 
 and shows Himself glorious in His Church." 
 
 It may be as well to add the concluding paragraphs of 
 his published account of the whole affair. It was issued 
 in the year 1823:— 
 
 "In ISTovember 1818 I was reported to the Council of 
 State by the clerical body as contumacious and disorderly, 
 and the magistrates consequently deposed me from my 
 collegiate post. 
 
 " In July 1823 I was further accused on a similar charge, 
 by the same, or nearly the same, men; and the secular 
 powers deprived me of my ecclesiastical functions. 
 
 " The eternal God, Whom I fear, and Whom I worship 
 in all sincerity of heart, is my witness, that in 1818 I was 
 guilty of no act of insubordination, except it were that 
 I could not conform to the opinions of those whose views 
 of the gospel contradicted mine, and that I could not reply 
 to their interrogations otherwise than as my conscience 
 dictated in the presence of the Lord. 
 
 " As a minister of Jesus Christ, I can safely and 
 solemnly say that in the day of His appearing He will not 
 pronounce me ' contumacious.' And if man has thus 
 stigmatised me, has condemned me on this pretext, his 
 judgment will not accord with the judgment of my Lord 
 and Master." 
 
 On the 14th of August my father addressed the follow- 
 ing letter to the Council of State : — 
 
 " Illustrious and Eight Honourable Sirs, — The Venerable 
 
98 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 Consistory of the [N'ational Protestant Cliurcli has informed 
 nie of the decree of suspension which you have pro- 
 nounced. 
 
 "My principles enjoin upon me submission to your 
 authority, and the recognition of the least of your com- 
 mands 'according to the Lord.' Hence in the delicate 
 position in which I now find myself, and in order the 
 better to exhibit the obedience which I owe you as a citizen, 
 and to show myself at the same time a faithful servant 
 of God, Who has entrusted me with the ministry of the 
 gospel, I am compelled to follow a new course — a course 
 which I had hoped I never should have been called upon 
 to adopt, namely, to retire both in my ministerial and 
 private capacity from the Protestant Church of our Canton 
 as at present constituted. 
 
 " I have therefore to request, with all deference and 
 civil obedience, that you will not regard me henceforth as 
 bound by your authority in spiritual matters, nor as being 
 any longer a member of the National Church. 
 
 " Most unwillingly do I abandon the Church of my 
 fathers. I have declared, in a published document, my 
 continued loyalty to the ancient Church of Geneva, whose 
 tenets still live in our ecclesiastical formularies, and 
 whose existence, as established and protected by our 
 ancestors, has been protracted through two hundred years. 
 But I dare not — the Word of God and my conscience 
 alike forbidding it — acknowledge, for a moment, any com- 
 mand which interferes with the requirements laid upon 
 me by the gospel of Christ to preach the word, and to 
 exercise my ministry. 
 
 " So I have only to beg of you, sirs, to accord, both to 
 
GRANTED TOLERATION. 99 
 
 myself as a minister, and to those of my fellow-citizens 
 who may elect to worship God as I would seek to wor- 
 shij) Him, full right to exercise our religion, together with 
 the same toleration, the same legal protection, which tlie 
 Anglicans, Moravians, the Independents at the Bourg de 
 Four, and the Jewish community, receive at your hands. 
 
 " May the God of heaven bless both our State and our 
 rulers ! — Your most obedient servant, for the sake of the 
 Lord Jesus, C^sae Malan, Minister of God." 
 
 This application (in which, in order to maintain his 
 character as a minister, as well as the possibility of dis- 
 charging the ministerial duties, my father was thus con- 
 strained to withdraw from the Church in which he was 
 born) was not rejected by the Council of the State. His 
 petition was granted by the authorities " so long as their 
 doing so in no way interfered with public order." 
 
 But while the civil power, however unwilling it might 
 be to arrest the persecution with which he had been 
 hunted down, still showed itself ready to protect individual 
 rights and privileges, the ecclesiastical rulers, on the other 
 hand, did not hesitate to withhold all recognition of that 
 pastoral capacity so fully admitted by the Council of 
 State. 
 
 For no sooner had Malan's letter to the latter been com- 
 municated to the " Compagnie des Pasteurs " than, not 
 contenting themselves with pronouncing him to be re- 
 moved from the clergy list — the natural result, the object, 
 indeed, of the step he had been compelled to take — they 
 exceeded altogether their administrative power, so con- 
 stantly alleged in the course of the dispute, with the view 
 of ignoring the theological aspect of the question, and 
 
100 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAN. 
 
 assumed the character of official representatives of the 
 Catholic Church of Christ. By virtue of that usurped 
 authority they declared him, on the 18th of Sept. 1823, to 
 have "fallen from his ecclesiastical ministry," thus not 
 merely depriving him of his position in the Church of 
 Geneva — a position which he himseK had abandoned, but 
 denying him all right or title to regard himself as a 
 minister of the gospel, a denial constantly asserted in a 
 practical form by ignoring his existence in that capacity. 
 In virtue of that decree my father was constantly refused 
 the acknowledgment of his ecclestiastical character at the 
 hands of the. Genevese civil authorities, until the time 
 when, in consequence of a subsequent political revolution, 
 many years later, the influence of the clergy had ceased to 
 predominate in the official departments of government. 
 
 To this, however, my father could never submit. He 
 neither admitted its justice, nor failed to assert against it 
 his personal right, conveyed through his ordination, to his 
 office. This right he declared himself unable to forfeit, 
 the very constitution of the Church itself forbidding him 
 to do so, except by a voluntary act on his part, or a 
 regular legal proceeding furnished with sufficient evidence 
 to justify its course. Admitting that the ecclesiastical 
 rulers had full right to forbid his exercising his ministry, 
 he altogether denied that they had the power to deprive 
 him, by a mere arbitrary decree, of functions, in his eyes 
 not only sacred but absolutely indelible, and with Avhich, 
 by his ordination in the Church of Geneva, he had been 
 virtually invested in the eyes of the whole evangelical 
 Church. From the moment that this last step was taken 
 against him (to him the most painful of all) he never 
 
DENIED HIS MINISTERIAL STATUS 101 
 
 ceaseel to protest against its utter illegality, and to look for 
 its retractation. In liis eyes it was not merely unauthor- 
 ised, but amounted to a personal libel, inasmuch as, accord- 
 ing to the constitution of the Church which had dealt 
 thus with him, such a sentence could only be passed on 
 one convicted either of immorality or heresy ; nor even 
 then, except after a formal trial which, in spite of all his 
 entreaties, had never been granted him. 
 
 If Protestant clergymen have thus the right of pronoun- 
 cing administratively, not only upon the exercise, but upon 
 the very existence of that ministry which their '' ordina- 
 tion " can only recognise and declare, it certainly does not 
 clearly appear what, on that particular point, may be the 
 difference between the authority of the clergy, which 
 is essentially delegated, and the ahsohde powers of the 
 Eomish j:)7^2csfe. At all events the latter could only act 
 thus in virtue of clearly established laws, and in cases 
 most carefully and strictly defined. 
 
 It will appear by and by that, towards the close of his 
 life, he had reason to believe that this decree would at 
 length be rescinded, thougli, from circumstances that will 
 be stated in their order, his expectations were never 
 realised. 
 
 In writing thus, I ask myself whether I ought not to 
 maintain pretentions, whose justice I also fully admit, or 
 whether, taking a view of tlie question he never was able 
 to take, I should estimate such a step at its true 
 worth, and hold it to be utterly unimportant. Certainly 
 when we see how God Himself has testified to the ministry 
 of His servant, such a question cannot even be raised. At 
 all events, the course pursued in the face of such a life as 
 
102 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAN. 
 
 his could only compromise those who met his reiterated 
 appeals with silent contempt, and those, too, who, after the 
 turbulence of the excitement had subsided, failed still to 
 take a right view of the merits of the question. 
 
 Of course, it might be urged that the Genevan Church 
 could not continue to be held responsible for the deeds of 
 fifty years back. Eeserving to myself the right, when I 
 come to that portion of my narrative, of defining the limits 
 and extent within which that objection may be held valid, 
 I confine myself at present to specifying the action of the 
 civil powers in relation to the unw^arrantable proceedings 
 of the ecclesiastical authorities. 
 
 The better to do this, let me refer to a letter from my 
 father to the first syndic magistrate, dated July 1824, in 
 which he protests against the qualification given to him of 
 sclioolmaster, on the electors' rolls of that year, and, that 
 protestation being left unnoticed, makes a further appeal 
 to be at least exempted by authority from military service. 
 In October 1825 he forwarded a fresh application to the 
 same quarter for due recognition as a minister of the gospel, 
 inclosing, at the same time, a report of the official acts by 
 which the Secession Church of Scotland had incorporated 
 him among their clergy.* The reply was a distinct refusal, 
 to which was appended the declaration " that he wasn't 
 even tolerated, that he was only endured." To which he 
 rejoined that he asked for no favour, but simply to be dealt 
 with constitutionally by the ecclesiastical laws. 
 
 Of course, it is not by this solitary occurrence that his 
 
 * His original intention, indeed, had been to unite with the Scotch 
 (Presbyterian) Establishment, but it could not have been done without his 
 having first passed through the prescribed four years of study in a Scotch 
 college. 
 
RELATIONS IFITH THE CIVIL POJVERS. 103 
 
 treatment at tlie hands of the civil power must be esti- 
 mated. Though, for a long period, the circumstance of 
 their ignoring his ecclesiastical status excluded him, as a 
 matter of course, from participation in the civil privileges 
 and duties of a country like ours, (for example, in elec- 
 tions, at which he had always been present from the time 
 when he was first entered as a minister on the qualification 
 roll), still, from the very outset, it must in justice be 
 admitted that their relations generally towards each other 
 were very satisfactory. As an instance of this, I may 
 mention that on one occasion, during some popular disturb- 
 ance in 1825, he promptly complied with a request from 
 the lieutenant of police, who asked him as a favour to 
 suspend his evening meetings for a short time. Should 
 the reply of the first syndic, quoted above, appear some- 
 what offensive, it must be remembered that the Geneva of 
 that time was quite different from the Geneva of the pre- 
 sent day. Although its magistrates, who were then taken 
 out of the real aristocracy of its population, were known 
 and quoted in neighbouring countries for the elevation of 
 their mind and their zeal for progress, the laws were still 
 those of the ancient republic, and by the letter of their 
 requirements, the mere charge of discussing doctrines con- 
 stituted of itself a civil offence ; so that, if the magistrates 
 of that day did not press the statute to its utmost, it was 
 because, in the matter of toleration, they were in advance 
 of the ordinances of the State. It is notorious that, when 
 on their restoration to power by the popular vote in 1847, 
 those who had had the chief hand in bringing about their 
 reinstatement recast the old statutes, so as to give the 
 widest scope for liberty of opinion, they did but legalise a 
 
104 LIFE OF CMSAR MALAN. 
 
 state of tilings wliicli the clear-siglitedness of pre^dous 
 rulers had already virtually anticipated. 
 
 Yet, in spite of all this — owing to the strong union 
 which existed between the secular and ecclesiastical 
 authorities — the former, so far from interfering in Malan's 
 case, sanctioned the proceedings against him, by giving 
 a legal character to the acts of the clerg}^, and then per- 
 petuating their consequences to my father and his family. 
 
 And thus it is easy for us, without following the litiga- 
 tion any further, to form a general opinion on the entire 
 merits of the question. 
 
 In arriving at such a judgment, however, everything 
 depends on the point of Adew from which the matter in 
 dispute is regarded. In this case there are clearly but 
 two ways of looking at it. Either Ave must estimate the 
 entire history as illustrating a phase in Avhat is commonly 
 called " national religious life," and so come to treat it 
 as a natural and necessary development of social life ; or 
 else, passing by this theory, we must see, apart from this, 
 and far above it, a higher state, an indimdual religious 
 life, resulting in the believer from a full apprehension of 
 the special facts which are testified in the gospel. 
 
 Undoubtedly those Avho draw no distinction, such as 
 immeasurably exists between the liolincss to Avhich the 
 Christian is " called," and human virtue, cannot under- 
 stand what Jesus Christ Himself taught about the neces- 
 sity of a new birth, but as a metaphor, intended to 
 illustrate more strikingly the old truth of a moral progress 
 in itself natural and everywhere insisted on. Such men 
 wiU always look upon Christianity as being nothing but 
 
HIS TREATMENT— JUST OR UNJUST? 105 
 
 one of tlie natural phases of the natural development of 
 man on earth. For them, the name of Christian will 
 simply be a conventional designation of the inhabitants of 
 certain countries on the globe at a certain period of their 
 history. Such persons, of course, will only see, in the 
 events we have traced out, one of these " religious quarrels," 
 of no importance in itself, incapable of making any general 
 impression, the history of which it would be unwise to 
 present to people happily ignorant of its very existence. 
 
 And yet, even from this point of view, my father's bio- 
 grapher has this to consider — whether he should raise the 
 question as to the justifiableness or unjustifiableness of the 
 proceedings from which Malan suffered, or whether, pass- 
 ing that matter by, he may content himself with drawing 
 the picture of an honoured and respected old age, in the 
 lustre of whose private virtues these earlier occurrences 
 might be regarded as eclipsed. 
 
 And on this point the true guide to a decision is to be 
 found in an answer to these two questions : First, Did the 
 academical and ecclesiastical rulers act within the limits of 
 their authority from tlie time of their deposition of j\Ialan 
 from his collegiate post, or in the adoption of these hostile 
 measures, which compelled his withdrawal from the Estab- 
 lishment ? and, secondly, admitting that their proceedings 
 were justifiable, did they, in the conduct of them, exhibit 
 such skill and judgment as were necessary, even with re- 
 gard to the external interests of the Church, so continually 
 alleged as their sole consideration ? 
 
 It would be going out of our way here to meet these 
 two questions with a formal reply. That has been fur- 
 
106 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAK 
 
 nished elsewhere. Enough for us to express our conviction 
 that public opinion in Geneva will be on our side, when 
 we affirm, in view of the occurrences, that, as a matter 
 of fact, INIalan was most unjustly treated by the clergy of 
 Geneva ; and that the clergy themselves, looking merely at 
 the considerations which they put forward, exhibited a 
 singular want of tact and judgment. 
 
 As a Protestant clergy, there was nothing they should 
 more scrupulously have guarded against than the bare 
 suspicion that they were laying claim to absolute authority, 
 without check and without appeal in matters of doctrine. 
 To act otherwise was most effectually to endanger the 
 unity of the Church, by rousing up in independent minds 
 a violent reaction against their summary measures. 
 
 Moreover, apart from their official acts, couched, as a 
 matter of course, in official phraseology, their total igno- 
 rance of their real position was sufficiently proved not only 
 by the relentlessly aggressive character of this or that par- 
 ticular step, but by the numberless pamphlets issued at 
 the time by the rejDresentatives of their body — pamphlets, 
 whose angry and personal tone, degenerating at times into 
 vulgar insult, was utterly unworthy of the position of their 
 authors, and furnished a remarkable contrast to the quiet 
 dignity which characterised my father throughout, though 
 they succeeded, nevertheless, in exposing him to public 
 derision and contempt. 
 
 All which is so indisputably true, that the question is 
 forcibly suggested whether it was not, after all, their object 
 so to act, as to render a reconciliation simply impossible. 
 
 Whatever reply we may give to this conjecture, we may 
 content ourselves with observing that, meeting them on 
 
TFHERE THE NATIONAL CHURCH ERRED. 107 
 
 tlieir own ground, tliey appear to have been called upon to 
 act in an entirely opposite manner. They should have 
 conciliated to the Church — assuming their avowed interest 
 in its welfare — those whom they drove from it. They 
 should have endeavoured not merely to respect the posi- 
 tion these men had already acquired, but, by gradually 
 enlarging the sphere of their activity, they should have 
 left it to an earnest duty-doing career to soften down any 
 possible error of judgment or impetuous zeal incident to 
 young and enthusiastic temperaments. Above all, affect- 
 ing to trace in INIalan violent ambition, it was, at the best, 
 but mistaken policy to inflame it by a pedantic, irritating, 
 and paltry opposition. They should, at all hazards, have 
 enlisted on their side that deep attachment to their Church 
 and country, which distinguished him through the whole 
 struggle, and which, in spite of his sincerity and candour, 
 involved him once in a false position. 
 
 In a word, we maintain that it should have been tlieir 
 first consideration to win over, in the interests of the cause 
 they pretended to have at heart, a man in whose character 
 they detected the operation of such poAverful and service- 
 able influences. 
 
 So far from acting thus, they forced him, against his 
 instincts, to live mixed up with the anti-ecclesiastical 
 party, from which not only his very sympathies estranged 
 him, but who openly stigmatised his hesitation and delays 
 in clinging to the old institutions of his country, as a 
 weakness or want of faithfulness. 
 
 In a word, they might have displayed tact, only they 
 did not know how to do it. It was in their power to be 
 moderate and judicious ; they preferred to be violent. It 
 
108 LIFE OF CyFSJB MILAN. 
 
 is this that brings out, in its true light, their deplorable 
 infatuation. They had no notion of the true character of 
 that religions liberty of which they claimed to be the repre- 
 sentatives ; and hence, while they indulged in high-sound- 
 ing talk about their position as the heads of the Eeformed 
 Church of Geneva, t?liey ended by resembling those fana- 
 tical obscurantists to whom Eome owes all her faults. 
 Following close upon the traces of the old enemies of Pro- 
 testantism, they would have acted far more prudently had 
 they chosen for repetition those epochs in the history of 
 the past wherein their Church had had the wisdom to turn 
 to her profit, and to secure in her service, such occasionally 
 indiscreet enthusiasm as she might chance to observe in 
 her children. 
 
 Admittinc^, therefore — what indeed is difficult to admit 
 — that the Eegulation of the 3d of May had not been 
 directed against Malan personally — admitting that, so far 
 from interfering by act and deed of theirs to enjoin silence 
 with regard to dogmas openly avowed and formularised by 
 that very Church of which they claimed the name and 
 privileges, they had but put in force a regulation originally 
 incorporated in her ecclesiastical provisions, still it cer- 
 tainly was the part of a Protestant authority — exulting, by 
 the way, in its Protestant liberalism — to seek to soften 
 down the wording of engagements so violently opposed 
 to the faith of many of her members. 
 
 Instead of doing this, it was that authority which 
 framed these very engagements, in order to drive out from 
 amongst them, under pretence of insubordination, not such 
 of their clergy as actually held that Eegulation to be a 
 virtual denial of the ancient faith, but the only one amongst 
 
CLERICAL AUTHORITY IN DOCTRINE. 109 
 
 tliem wlio was bold and sincere enough to avow openly 
 what others thought as well as he. 
 
 That authority of the clergy in matters of doctrine — in 
 the name and by virtue of which the ministers of that 
 day drove Malan from the school -desk and from the 
 pulpit, and finally sought to deprive him of his ecclesias- 
 tical status — does not, and cannot exist in a Protestant 
 Church. In fact, a clergy worthy of such a designation 
 aims exclusively at 'protesting^ like the Eeformers of 
 the sixteenth century, in the name of the faith of the 
 heart, against the tyranny of such doctrines or such insti- 
 tutions as have no other title to our respect but their 
 merely traditional character. 
 
 And it may be safely added that what is true generally 
 holds good more particularly in the case of those who had 
 themselves departed so entirely from ancient forms. ISTot 
 to speak of the abstract rights of religious liberty — to pass 
 over which, in such a case, is, to say the least of it, singu- 
 lar, and judging the clergy of Geneva only by the standard 
 of their acts — it is evident that, from the time they entered 
 on the abolition of old forms, they had no other duty, as 
 far as matters of faith are concerned, than to be the imj)ar- 
 tial representatives of the faith of the flock committed to 
 their care. 
 
 When we look at the present state of the Church of 
 Geneva, at the entire religious toleration which pervades 
 it, at the fact that the most advanced broad churchman, or 
 the most enthusiastic evangelical, may each find its pulpits 
 occupied to his individual taste, it is not easy to realise 
 that there was a time when such a censure as we have 
 just recorded could justly be passed on that Church. 
 
110 LIFE OF CjFSJE MALAN. 
 
 Undoubtedly the times then were very different from 
 the present epoch, and my father had to do battle with 
 prejudices which are already in a visible decline. 
 
 At the time that he built his chapel in his garden, there 
 had been no such open appearance in Geneva of a dissent- 
 ing congregation. In all the Protestant countries on the 
 Continent, the Church was invariably regarded as attached 
 to the State ; in Geneva, indeed, the latter had derived not 
 only her lustre from the former, but her strength and 
 security. Seceders, therefore, or sectaries, as they were 
 sometimes called, were looked upon by the people as semi- 
 rebels and insurgents, as promoters of disaffection, and dis- 
 turbers of the national peace. 
 
 In such a case, it was clearly the duty of the heads of 
 the Protestant Church, instead of conniving at, and even 
 stimulating popular passions, to encounter, by all the 
 means in their power, the prejudices of the multitude, due 
 to their own neglect, and, by every possible effort, to en- 
 lighten public opinion. 
 
 If it be urged, therefore, that the narrow-mindedness of 
 the lower orders, and tlieir utter iq-norance of the riqhts of 
 liberty of thought, furnish the only clue to the attitude 
 assumed by the old Genevan clergy, and consequently ex- 
 plain the proceedings which resulted from their view of the 
 question, there is nothing in all this to free their measures 
 from that stigma which will ahvays attach to them in the 
 opinion of every lover of justice and freedom. 
 
 But in order to form a due estimate of the whole case, 
 there yet remains a position more exalted, less personal, 
 less painful, therefore, and embracing more important 
 interests. This is the position resulting from faith in those 
 
EOJF TO BEGABD THE JFEOLE QUESTION. Ill 
 
 eternal realities to "which the gospel testifies ; it is the 
 position assumed by him who believes in the presence of a 
 spiritual kingdom distinct from that earthly kingdom of 
 God to which our natural birth introduces us : — a kingdom 
 into which no one can penetrate but through the " new 
 birth/' which we are told takes place in our souls through 
 the direct agency of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 Taking up this position — the only right one, to our 
 mind, from which to regard a spiritual toj)ic — w^e see at 
 once that the clerical body of Geneva displayed not merely 
 want of tact and equity of dealing, but, as has been loudly 
 testified from every quarter, in their resistance to the 
 revival they were found fighting against God ! 
 
 For most assuredly that wdiich they opposed was none 
 other than the grace of the living God, Who speaks directly 
 to the human conscience. It was the cause of the freedom 
 of the soul — the cause of the gospel, as the supreme law 
 to the hearts of men. It was that holy and awful cause 
 which who will may freely advocate now in the pulpits of 
 Geneva. It was in its defence that Malan suffered ! And 
 hence we have no hesitation in affirming that those who 
 cherish it in their inmost souls wiU cherish, side by side 
 with it, the memory of Malan. 
 
 As for those who hold that there are some yet alive who 
 would fain bury in oblivion the record of his achievements, 
 can they give a satisfactory explanation of this want of 
 sympathy ? Is it to the defects of the man liiniself lliat 
 their indiff'erence is to be ascribed ? We can hardly think 
 so ; his faults, whatever they may have been, found their 
 harshest critic in himself. " Oh, but the injury lie has 
 done to clerical authority in Geneva," say some ; " He has 
 
112 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAK 
 
 troubled us/' say others. As for tlie authority of the 
 clergy, Malan never assailed it ; he never even thought of 
 such a thing. If that authority has injured itself by its 
 attacks upon the unconquerable faith of that man of God, 
 there is no thinking man who would regret its condemna- 
 tion, actually involved in that very fact. As regards 
 tliis general indictment that my father had troubled his 
 country, it can only be met in his own words, when in 
 1817 he begged his opponents to distinguish accurately 
 betAveen offence given and offence taken; not to refer, 
 for additional illustration and reply, to a case more ancient 
 still — the case of One Who found Himself a stumbling- 
 
 o 
 
 block in his native town. 
 
 Malan's entire life, and, more particularly, his public 
 struggle with the clerical body, rank among those facts of 
 history which compel men either to shut their eyes alto- 
 gether, or to submit candidly to the alternative compelling 
 them to choose between the glory that cometh from man, 
 and that which proceeds from God alone. No one can 
 study such a narrative honestly without seeing himself 
 forced, either to side with the prejudices of a world which, 
 while it calls itself Christian, can still too often manage to 
 deny the rights of the faith and the obligations it entails, 
 or with those whose sincerity and decision has led them to 
 prefer to the approval of men, what saints and martyi^s 
 have hailed for two thousand years, " The reproach of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 MALAN'S CHAPEL, AND PASTOEAL "WORK UP TO THE YEAR 1830. 
 
 " ^Vlio loved, who suffered countless ills, 
 Who battled for the True, the Just." 
 
 Ox the 19tli March 1820, Malan commenced to build his 
 chapel in the garden of the Pro I'Eveque. 
 
 At the first blows of the pick-axe, Felix ISToeff, (who, 
 at that time a soldier in the garrison, used to employ his 
 leisure days in working for private families,) turned over 
 in the soil a small piece of copper, which he carried to my 
 father. It was a medal, with an effigy of a sower on one 
 side, and the inscription " Ejadura lucrum." As he looked 
 at the device, my father could not help recalling the words 
 of the Psalmist, in which an abundant harvest is promised 
 to him "who goes forth weeping, bearing precious seed." 
 He remembered, too, the coin which Pranke had found 
 when he was laying the foundation of his orphanage. 
 
 Indeed he had good need to look for the help of God 
 upon his work. " "When I began," he said, " I had only 
 £10 to count upon, a subscription given me by a brother 
 in Ireland. The day that the medal was found I received 
 •unexpectedly, througli the post, £24, whicli the l)rethren 
 
 H 
 
Hi LIFE OF CJ-SJFi JLILJX. 
 
 at Wiirteniberg had fonvarded to help me " in relniihling 
 the ^A•alls of JerusaUnn." This ^vas, however, the only funds 
 tliat he possessed for a hnig time, till, in the month of 
 June, \vheu, after my mother had tried in vain to persuade 
 him to appropriate her property, he determined to sell his 
 house for the benefit of the new ehapel. As he was about 
 to earry out his intention, however, he suddenly reeeived 
 abundant supplies from various quarters, addressed in eaeh 
 ease to himself personally, and sent to aid him in his 
 ^^•ork. 
 
 Let me mention an ineident which he related to me by 
 way of showing " how elTectually he was taught, in the 
 whole afluir, to rest on God alone." He was in the midst 
 of his building opemtions, and had to pay the architect a 
 particular sum on a given day, when he received three 
 letters by the same post. He hastened to open two of 
 them, in the address of which he detected the handwriting 
 of some friends he had relied upon for help ; but inside he 
 found nothing but excuses, and even indirect censures of 
 his undertaking. As he showed them to my mother, with 
 the simple remark that He Who would not that we should 
 make tlesh our arm, would be sure to provide, she asked 
 him to open the third. He did so, and found inside au 
 order for £100, sent, with a few cheering words, by an entire 
 stranger. 
 
 Such was the way in which the chapel, which took six 
 mouths to build, was paid for within eight months of its 
 commencement, so that, as he used to say, it might well have 
 been called " riiiladelphia." He styled it " La ChapeUe du 
 Temoignage," the Chapel of Testimony, partly as expressing 
 his intention to deliver within it none other message than- 
 
DEDICATION. 115 
 
 the testimony Gocl had given of His Son, and partly because 
 he wished it to be a standing testimony against the clergy 
 of Geneva who had cast him out for the gospel's sake. 
 
 He placed under the corner-stone a leaden box contain- 
 ing a parchment, which I myself removed when the build- 
 ing was taken down in 18G4. The document, written in 
 his own hand, ran as follows : — 
 
 " In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost. Eternal God ! my God and Saviour ! my heart 
 is filled with joy for the mercy Thou hast bestowed on Thy 
 servant in permitting him to build this church. I implore 
 Thee to bless it with Thy sovereign grace, for the alone 
 merits' sake of Thy well-beloved Son, Jesus Christ, my 
 Itcdeemer, my Master. 
 
 " Lord, according to Thy promise, let Thy Xame be 
 there ! Amen. 
 
 " The Church of Geneva is desolate. The gospel is seldom 
 heard in our midst. A deadly heresy is destroying souls. 
 Christ is no longer worshipped as God eternal, manifest in 
 the llesh, and His merits are likened to the merits of a 
 creature. 
 
 "The Lord has raised up in our city, for some years, 
 j)reachers of the truth, who have withdrawn from the 
 National Church. 
 
 " God has had compassion upon me ! I have been de- 
 prived of my collegiate appointment, and banished from 
 the pulpit of my country because I was faithful to the 
 ministry conferred upon me Ijy man in 1820, and by the 
 Lord in 1817. 
 
 " Without separating from the Churcli, I have now been 
 preaching in this garden for a year and a half in a little 
 
116 LIFE OF CyFSAE MA LAN. 
 
 cliapel. Eeqiiired for the accommodation of an increasing 
 flock, tins larger building will witness the glory of God, 
 for He has erected it. It is my resolve to preach in it the 
 gospel of Christ as embodied in the Confession of Faith of 
 the Swiss Cliurches, 
 
 "Christians in Germany, (Stuttgardt, Leomberg, Metz- 
 ingen,) in England, Scotland, Ireland, France, America, 
 and Switzerland, have supplied the funds for its erection. 
 
 " This corner-stone, which I pray God to erect spiritually 
 on the Great Corner-stone which the builders rejected, has 
 been laid by me and my house to the glory of the most 
 Holy Trinity. " Caesar Malax, 
 
 " Minister of the Church of Geneva. 
 '' Frkhnj, 2Sth April, 1820." 
 
 That same year, on the 7th October, my father, occupy- 
 ing the little temporary building for the last time, gave 
 thanks to God, with the whole congregation, for all that 
 His hand had done. The next day he inaugurated the 
 new chapel. 
 
 A congregation of about eight hundred people was pre- 
 sent at that solemnity, appointed for two p.m. There were 
 gens d'armes stationed along the approach, and at the 
 entrance, to prevent confusion. After the reading of the 
 Confession of Faith and the Ten Commandments, chanting, 
 and prayer, my father, taking for his text Solomon's words 
 at the dedication of the temple, "The Lord our God be 
 with us as He was with our fathers," (1 Kings viii. 57, 58), 
 explained to his hearers that his one object was to supply 
 a place in the midst of them, where they might hear, in 
 its simplicity, the gospel of Christ, as received and 
 
THE NEIV CHURCH, 1 1 7 
 
 declared by tlieir fathers, to the words, faith, and deeds of 
 whom he made a brief reference. 
 
 Thus began, in a manner independent of the traditional 
 habits of the official Church, the work of public testimony, 
 exacted by the circumstances in which he had been 
 involved, with the irrevocable declaration of his resolve, all 
 Church decrees notwithstanding, to exercise the office with 
 which he had been solemnly entrusted. 
 
 His position at this time was that of an established 
 minister, supported by an ever-increasing congregation, 
 and desirino' to remain steadfast in his allegiance to the doc- 
 trines of the Eeformation. If, four years later, at the time 
 of his coerced secession, he found himself with a settled flock 
 around him, ifc must be remembered that he was as far as 
 possible from anticipating this contingency when he 
 signed himself at the foot of the document I have quoted, 
 " Minister of the Church of Geneva," or when he opened 
 his chapel in the October of the same year. Some time 
 after that event, in January 1821, he published his declar- 
 ation of fidelity to the ISTational Church, in which he cast 
 from him the reproach of having created a schism, which 
 he said, when the terms of his ordination oath were 
 remembered, amounted to nothincj short of a charize of 
 perjury. 
 
 That declaration contains some passages which, while 
 they show the humility of my father's spirit, furnish also a 
 very correct description of his relation to the Churcli. 
 After stating that, at the close of eight years, in wliich 
 his doctrine had been utterly opposed to the gospel of 
 Christ, he was converted from a rationalist to a Christian, 
 he continues as follows : — 
 
118 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAX. 
 
 " I experienced at my first awakening what Paul himself 
 dreaded for the new converts. I fell into spiritual pride, 
 and my speech, too, smacked often of a severity which 
 Christian love condemns, and which I now abhor." And 
 he adds, that it was probably to his vehemence and want 
 of tact that the severity of the measures arainst him miQ;ht 
 be attributed. 
 
 " At that time," he o'oes on to saA^ "I went over to Encr- 
 land, where I met several ministers of the various Churches. 
 Their faith served to strenothen mine. Their writino-s and 
 sermons showed me that we were bound to set forth the 
 truth firmly but kindly, and their Christian charity made 
 me feel how sadly I had been wanting in that virtue my- 
 self Hence, on my return to Geneva, I tried to bring 
 about a reconciliation with my superiors. ' ISIj appeals, 
 however, met with no response, and I was left in my 
 deposed condition. However, I had learnt a fact most im- 
 portant to me, and of which I had previously been ignorant, 
 that our Church of Geneva had held, from its earliest 
 establishment, and in accordance with its unalterable 
 character for more than two hundred years, the very same 
 opinions which I professed myself This discovery warranted 
 my acting as a minister of that Church. jNlairv" a time the 
 dread of innovating had held me back, but as soon as I 
 understood that, by attaching myself to our ancient faith, 
 I was most effectually upholding my ordination vows, I 
 did not hesitate to adhere to my ministerial office, and to 
 fulfil its obligations." 
 
 He then relates how he had been induced to Iniild a 
 "house of prayer," and exclaims, "I declare before God 
 that my only aim has been to discharge my obligations in 
 
CATHOLICITY. 119 
 
 tlie presence of my fellow-citizens, by simply doing, to 
 the utmost of my power, the work of an evangelical 
 minister and guardian of tlie precious trust of the gospel 
 of grace." 
 
 All his earlier publications prove that this was his one 
 object, and show to what extent he regarded his involun- 
 tary secession, as an evil to which he was compelled to 
 submit for conscience' sake, and in tlie interests of the 
 truth, the integrity of which he deemed to be infinitely 
 more important than any considerations arising from mere 
 feeling, tradition, or regard for external unity. 
 
 Already, in 1818, in his little tract, entitled "Come and 
 See," he had aA'owed his deliberate resolve never to sepa- 
 rate willingly from what he called "our Church of 
 Geneva." At the same time he affirmed (in contradistinc- 
 tion from the clergy at its head), that he desired to main- 
 tain with the seceders the same relations that he would 
 wish to see subsisting between himself and any other 
 Christians in Geneva, or in the whole world. " AYhether 
 they style themselves Protestants or Ptomanists, Greeks 
 or Anglicans, Lutherans or Calvinists, Quakers or Mora- 
 vians, what matters it to me ! AYhoever believes with all 
 his lieart in the merits of the Lord Jesus, is my brother, 
 and as soon as I have recognised him as such, I testify it 
 to him as much as it is in my power." 
 
 ISTo one can help recognising in all this, that Christianity 
 of tlie heart Avhich should ever supersede all purely 
 ecclesiastical questions, inasmuch as it takes precedence of 
 all mere ecclesiastical life, and, being eternal itself, like the 
 God Who implants it in the believing soul, is destined to 
 survive the overthrow of denominations, and the wreck of 
 
120 LIFE OF C^SAR MA LAN. 
 
 Cliurclies. Sliould it appear, at a later period, that my 
 father lost sight occasionally of that catholicity of spirit 
 which the passage just quoted indicates, this never arose, 
 as will he abundantly evident, from any sectarian bitter- 
 ness, but simply from a perhaps too tenacious grasp of 
 exclusively doctrinal views. 
 
 It began in sheer fidelity, a fidelity which had beheld 
 the sacrifice of his most cherished natural inclinations. If 
 it be alleged, with reference to the seceders who had gone 
 before him, that they too had left the Church for the same 
 reason, the statement must be amplified and extended in 
 his case, inasmuch as his secession, so far from being vol- 
 untary, was the result of positive compulsion. He never 
 ceased to declare, that had he been permitted to preach the 
 doctrine of Christ's divinity, and of a free salvation as it 
 was inscribed in their ancient formularies, he would never 
 have quitted the Church. 
 
 When, after three years' service in the garden chapel, he 
 was driven to that step, the very existence of his ministry 
 being at stake, he was careful to have it understood that 
 he withdrew only from the Establishment as then existing. 
 And we have just seen that he never felt himself at 
 liberty to preach the word, from the time of his exclusion 
 from the national pulpits, tiU he discovered that the truths 
 which he taught were the faith of the ancient Church, a 
 Church loved by none more passionately than himself, as 
 none held more emphatically than he did the doctrines of 
 her founder. Over and over again did he assert that he 
 had by no means withdrawn himself from the Church of 
 his ancestors, but that, on the contrary, his sufferings had 
 resulted from fidelity to her cause. 
 
CHABACTEB OF TEE CHURCH OF TESTIMONY. 121 
 
 And not only was this liis own view of the case, but it 
 was also shared by such as regarded the whole matter 
 simply in the light of historic truth as well as by those 
 who partook of his faith. 
 
 Let it be added, that if he did thus rend the ties which 
 attached him to the Establishment, he did so, not under the 
 influence of particular opinions on Church matters properly 
 so called, but simply and solely at the bidding of evangeli- 
 cal truth. ISTot as a pastor, not as the " incumbent of a 
 churcli," but as a minister, or mere preacher, he commenced 
 a vocation outside the walls of the national sanctuary in 
 which he had been reared, and from which he found him- 
 self eventually expelled. 
 
 If I appear to dwell upon this point at some length, it 
 is because there have been those who have thouoht that 
 the " Church of Testimony " was an attempted revival of 
 the old Theocratic Church of Calvin. This was so little the 
 case, that as we have just heard it stated by himself, it was 
 not till long after he had been refused the use of the pulpit, 
 that he discovered what had in reality been the doctrine 
 and institutions of the primitive Church of Geneva. 
 If, therefore, in a certain measure, there be found, in the 
 religious sentiments of my father, what can justly be called 
 a thcocratical tendency, it is not to that tendency that we 
 are to trace his secession from the Church. Still less can 
 it be urged with truth, that while his doctrine was akin to 
 the doctrine of the great Eeformer, it was that circumstance 
 which impelled him to adopt it. 
 
 As we shall have occasion to see, he had not even read 
 the writings of Calvin when he first affirmed his doctrine, 
 which, at least until R. Haldane's visit, was solely the 
 
122 LIFE OF C.^SAE MALAN. 
 
 confession of his feelings as a Christian. In general, it 
 must be allowed that my father's work was, on the whole, 
 or in its essential features, one of confession and testimony 
 of personal faith. We shall see how his ecclesiastical v:orl:, 
 far from having originated his secession, came to be added 
 at a much later period, in consequence of peculiar circum- 
 stances, to what he had always considered his peculiar mis- 
 sion, viz., the duty of '' luitncssing for the truth in Geneva^ 
 Even then, (in his Church work,) he did not think of 
 copying Calvin. 
 
 This confusion of the Church with the nation, resultinc^ 
 in an intimate alliance between the civil and ecclesiastical 
 powers, and a consequent rigid system of Church discipline, 
 never found favour in his eyes. So far from regarding 
 himself as representing institutions which, in his judgment, 
 belonged to a different age, he never ceased to uphold the 
 idea of a historic development of the visible institutions 
 of the Church, in opposition to that of a permanent and 
 divinely revealed Church constitution, which was more or 
 less expressly professed around him. 
 
 Possessing to a high degree that historical and traditional 
 instinct which generally accompanies a powerful imagina- 
 tion and a heart prone to emotion, nothing ever appeared 
 to him so distasteful as to assume the character of an in- 
 novator. It certainly was not his ambition to be thus re- 
 garded, nor did he consider such a reputation as by any 
 means creditable. He was so far from aspiring to the dis- 
 tinction, that, in his requests to the magistrates, he based 
 his appeals on the rights he claimed as a member of the 
 old and only true Church of the country. He did not even 
 hesitate in his application to affirm that the clergy had 
 
VISIONS OF GLOBY. 123 
 
 no right to the powers they exercised, simply because in 
 an innovating spirit they had gradually and surreptitiously 
 grafted new doctrines on the catechism and regulations of 
 the ancient Church. Confident that he would himself he 
 permitted to see the Church emerge from a state of virtual 
 secession from itself, and return to the faith of its founders, 
 or, in other words, to tlie pure gospel, he looked upon liis 
 rupture with the powers ecclesiastical, at first as merely 
 temporary, and the position in which for a time it had 
 placed him as simply provisional 
 
 This is apparent not only from his ''Declaration of 
 Fidelity," &c., but from all his writings of that period. 
 It especially shows itself in his " Conventicule de Eolle," 
 which he published in November 1821. Through all its 
 pages there breathes a spirit of holy confidence and joyous 
 hope in the anticipation of this event— an event to be 
 marked by a revival, " attended," he says, " by more 
 Christian charity, possibly by more liberality of senti- 
 ment than even the Eeformation itself displayed. The 
 harvest is just beginning. We are on the threshold of 
 glorious days. The Sun of Eighteousness has arisen upon 
 our beautiful Switzerland, and I trust that we are near- 
 ing a time of conspicuous triumph for the gospel in the 
 world." 
 
 Who can fail to detect in these words the OTacious kind- 
 ness of our heavenly Father illuminating the path of his 
 servants with the light of a future they are not destined to 
 behold in the flesh. So it was with Moses ; so, too, with 
 prophets and apostles. So it was supremely with the 
 ]Master Himself, Who inaugurated with tlic joyful days of 
 Galilee a ministry which was soon to encounter the angry 
 
124 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 outcries of Jerusalem, and tlie bitter hatred of lier 
 Sanliedrim. 
 
 My father's sentiments, so devoid of any special ecclesi- 
 astical bias, show how it was that he and his were able to 
 continue, up to the building of his chapel, in full communion 
 with the iSTational Church, and how, up to the year 1821, 
 he invariably presented his children for baptism in that 
 Church. 
 
 Even strangers perfectly understood that such was his 
 position. As a proof of it, let me quote here a few extracts 
 from letters addressed to him in 1821 and 1823, by the 
 Eev. D. Bogue of Gosport, in reference to which my father 
 writes to A. Haldane in 1826, on the occasion of the demise 
 of the writer: "I was sincerely attached to him, and possess 
 two of his letters, which will be useful not only to myself, 
 but to my children after me." After telling him his im- 
 pression on reading his document, and seeing how they had 
 compelled him to withdraw from the Church of Geneva, 
 he adds : " I bless God, AYlio has endowed you with such 
 gifts for the edification of mankind, and instilled into 
 your mind the pure principles of the Gospel of Christ, in 
 a place where they have been too generally refuted. The 
 Lord Jesus has, I trust, raised you up to be the instru- 
 ment of an extensive reformation in Geneva and the neigh- 
 bouring countries. The opposition you met with, though 
 painful, was to be expected; and it is matter of great 
 thankfulness to God that you were strengthened to stand up 
 against it with so much firmness and success. I rejoiced 
 greatly at the truly Christian spirit which you were enabled 
 to manifest in your answers to your adversaries. There 
 was nothinc: in them of the wrath of man which worketh 
 
VOICES FROM OTHER LANDS. 125 
 
 not the rigliteonsness of God, but, on the contrary, that 
 meekness which cometh from above, and which could not 
 fail to produce the most beneficial effects. If the clergy 
 could not be moved, yet the people must have felt deeply 
 your truly Christian defence of your principles and conduct. 
 I was greatly pleased, too, that you did not recede from 
 the mode of government and regulations of the Church 
 of Geneva. It grieved me when I heard that some 
 pious people had set up a new system of Church govern- 
 ment, and blended adult baptism with the controversy, 
 Ijecause it gave the adversaries of the truth a handle 
 against them, and called away the minds of the people 
 from the grand doctrinal controversy to subjects of a very 
 inferior nature. But your continuance in the same prin- 
 ciples of Church government w^ith the clergy, prevented 
 them from charging you with introducing a new ecclesias- 
 tical system, and kept the eyes of the public fixed on the 
 grand subject of the controversy, namely, the fundamental 
 doctrines of the gospel of Christ. You have only to per- 
 severe in following the same method, and your success 
 is certain. Already I understand it has been considerable, 
 and I have no doubt you will see greater things, and that 
 there will be a gradual return from these dangerous 
 opinions which have torn up the very foundations of real 
 piety, to the pure truths of the gospel which Calvin and 
 Beza, F. Turrettini and Pictet, maintained in ancient days. 
 I have not a doubt, if you live many years, you will 
 see these doctrines revived in all their former glory, and 
 cordially received by the people." Speaking of the general 
 revival of the faith which was then taking place in Eng- 
 land and on the Continent : " Young ministers," he says, 
 
126 LIFE OF CJESAE MA LAN. 
 
 " have joyful days before tliem, and you may labour with 
 a hope of seeing a rapid advancement of the kingdom of 
 Christ. AVith such prospects before you, how important 
 that you should be daily wrestling with God in prayer." 
 " You must still expect," ^Tites the same venerable friend 
 in another letter two years later, "determined and bitter 
 opposition, but in the end you will prevail, while 
 Arians and Socinians will sink in the public estimation. 
 They want the principles which give life and energy to 
 a system, and, do what they will, they will experience a 
 gradual decay. Be not discouraged, then, but assnre 
 yourself of victory and of the triumph of the Eedeemer's 
 cause." 
 
 We may see from these letters how^ my father had 
 assnmed towards the dissenters the same position of liberty 
 and superiority in matters of ecclesiastical policy, which 
 characterised his dealings with the Establishment. Thus, in 
 July 1820, while he was building his chapel, he declined an 
 offer from M. Empeytaz to join " The Little Church." The 
 fact was, as we shall presently see in various ways, that 
 though he was joined in faith with the men who presided 
 over the meetings in that Church, their object materially 
 differed from his. And this led him to set aside the proposal 
 just referred to, with the explanation that he and they 
 were scarcely pursuing the same path, and that the work 
 to which he had been led to devote himself was by no 
 means identical with theirs. Their separation from the 
 Church arose simply from a desire to establish an inde- 
 pendent religious communion. Without speaking of the 
 Church c[uestion with those individual prejudices which it 
 is so apt to call up, we may state that their great anxiety was 
 
POETIC FEELING AND ACTIVE OBEDIENCE. 127 
 
 ratlier to create an intimate Lrotlierly union than to secure 
 an accurate and well-defined system of dogmatic theology ; 
 in that respect, except as regards the great facts of salva- 
 tion, they held no clear and precise opinions. 
 
 In my father's judgment, this was a capital error. 
 Whilst they reproached him with a tendency to dogmatic 
 isolation, his answer was, that he could not sympathise 
 with their religion of feelinc^. 
 
 lieligious sentiment, what the Germans call looeiism, 
 and what we may term mere devotion, inasmuch as this 
 appellation describes the more sensuous side of religious 
 life, — had few charms for him. It always appeared to 
 him as the evidence of a morbid, self-seeking tendency, 
 a weakness repugnant to the sobriety and manliness of 
 his character. His spiritual life, from the very first, 
 was marked by no idle study of his own personal feel- 
 ings, but rather by an active, healthy, earnest obedience 
 to the will of Him Whose holy presence ever filled his 
 soul. 
 
 iSTot that it is to be inferred from all tliis, that he held 
 himself aloof from them, or that he estranged himself from 
 the various dissenting Churches which persecution had 
 called forth in the Canton de Vaud. Their members were 
 his brethren in the faith. More than that, he looked upon 
 them as " saints," as " elect," as " children of God," and as 
 such, regarded them with tenderest affection. " ISTot many 
 years ago," he said in 1821, "I should have been ashamed 
 to associate with them. Xow their companionship is to 
 me a source of sweet delimit." Nor did he confine himself 
 to cordial relations with the young ministers who were the 
 prime movers in the Vaudois revival, or the pastors of the 
 
128 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAN. 
 
 Bourg de Four, he eiideavoiired to render them solid service, 
 by espousing their cause in public, and by sharing Avith 
 them the supplies which he received for his work. 
 
 Among them all, M. Empeytaz was more especially his 
 friend. In a note in his handwriting, dated 6th September 
 1821, he says, "The Lord has put it into my heart to give 
 up my pulpit to-day, for the first time, to M. Empeytaz, 
 who is to preach, please God, this evening, I look upon 
 this as an important step in the right direction." Com- 
 menting next on the remarks that had been made about 
 his presence in one of the temples of the N'ational Church, 
 at the communion, the Sunday before, he observes, " My 
 doing so, as a proof of tolerance and Christian charity, 
 increases the value of any service I may render to my 
 seceding^ brethren." 
 
 A few days afterwards, my father, in concert with them, 
 wrote a circular letter " to the faithful pastors in Geneva, 
 and in the rest of Switzerland," inviting them to join him 
 in the ordination of M. Empeytaz. It was to be signed by 
 him as minister of Geneva. In it, though the arrano-ement 
 proposed was not carried out, as the ordination did not take 
 place at the time, he carefully stated with reference to the 
 candidate, "that though he had been called upon to do 
 battle with error, he had never judged or condemned erring 
 ones. Asserting pointedly his utter aversion to schism, 
 and to all separation from his brethren, he had only con- 
 sented to preside over a gathering of some amongst them, 
 for the sake of rendering open testimony of his attachment 
 to the doctrines of the gospel. A declaration which his 
 present conduct warrants, as he washes to be ordained a 
 minister in the Presbyterian Church of Geneva." 
 
CHURCH DISCIPLINE. 129 
 
 It is apparent at once, how far, even at tlie time 
 that, lie was exhibiting such decision in his testimony, his 
 ecclesiastical position was defined, and to what extent he 
 kept np his relation to the Church in conjunction with 
 his maintenance of purity of doctrine. 
 
 Gradually, however, circumstances led him to determine 
 his position more accurately. In January 1821, just after 
 publishing his " Declaration of Fidelity," he became con- 
 vinced that it was his duty to introduce a system of dis- 
 cipline into what had hitherto been a mere assembly of 
 hearers. This impression arose out of a conversation with 
 an English dissenting minister. He hesitated, however, so 
 long, that he began at last to accuse himself of unfaithful- 
 ness and apathy. " As I was lying awake one night," he 
 writes, " I sat up on my bed, and solemnly pledged myself 
 and my whole being to the service of Christ, beseeching 
 Him to consecrate me thoroughly to Himself, and to 
 tear asunder every bond that held me back from entire 
 obedience. The next day, as I was walking and reading 
 the Scriptures, I asked to be guided to a passage for my 
 meditation, which would reveal His will concerning me. 
 After I had closed the Bible, a thousand thoughts rushed 
 into my mind ; but one only reigned supreme, filling my 
 soul with strength and repose : it was the conviction that 
 I ouglit to exercise a godly su]3ervision over the souls be- 
 gotten again by tlie Word I had been permitted to preach 
 — by establishing discipline amongst them. From that 
 moment I experienced the most tranquil joy and greater 
 freedom than ever in my delivery of the message. I felt 
 an inward support, and a trust in the Lord Jesus all but 
 new to me. This was the finger of God." He goes on to 
 
130 LIFE OF CjFSAFo MALAN. 
 
 say that in this enterprise he met with the sanction and 
 encouragement of those around him. 
 
 In thus abandoning himself to the liveliness of his 
 emotions, he little thought that he was taking the first 
 ste^D towards forming an Independent Church. The dis- 
 cipline here indicated had nothing to do with admission 
 to the sacrament, which was not then given in his chapel. 
 It was simply applied to constituting w^hat had been 
 hitherto a mere congregation of habitual hearers — a com- 
 munity of selected members. JSTevertheless, three years 
 afterwards, when the final luiks of attachment were sun- 
 dered, he found himself — thanks to this first step — at the 
 head of a separate and thoroughly constituted community. 
 Up to that time he had confidently hoped to be permitted 
 to assist in winning back the Church of his fathers to its 
 original position, seeing in that a common meeting ground 
 for all true evangelical Christians. This will serve to 
 explain his peculiar position from 1821 to 1823. 
 
 What proves, moreover, our last statement, is the fact 
 that the same persons who had been all encouragement, 
 when, in 1821, he sought to honour the ancient laws of the 
 Church with reference to the government of the faithful, 
 opposed him openly in 1824, on the assumption that he 
 was endeavouring to establish an independent body. One 
 of those, in his most intimate confidence, in particular, 
 used every effort at this crisis to make him abandon his 
 decision by representing to him that the position of 
 leader of a flock was ill-suited to his independence of 
 character and of action — that in such a capacity he would 
 be like an eagle in a cage, wounding himself and others — 
 wasting his powers, and ending by destroying them. 
 
DISOLDEB IN THE ESTABLISHMENT. 131 
 
 Still he was not convinced. The establishment of an 
 independent community appeared to him to be not only 
 his duty, side by side with those which devolved upon 
 him as a preacher : he Adewed it as constituting in itself 
 a permanent protest against the disorderly condition of the 
 Church he had just quitted. 
 
 ISTow that the subject of Free Churches is a familiar one, 
 not merely in religious circles, his hesitation in this 
 matter may occasion surprise, more particularly when his 
 natural clearness of judgment and decision of character are 
 taken into consideration. But, as De Goltz has well ob- 
 served, in reference to this and all kindred topics, and the 
 light in wliich they presented themselves at the commence- 
 ment of the revival, " All these cases showed that it was 
 not theories that started facts, but facts that produced 
 theories." These words of De Goltz I find underlined in 
 my father's copy of his book. 
 
 ISTow, the "facts" in reference to the Church of Geneva 
 at this time, were well known. From the middle of the 
 last century the decay of independent belief in individuals 
 had led to this result, that the Church, becoming more 
 and more confounded with the nation, Protestant rights 
 — tantamount then to the rights of a citizen of Geneva — 
 superseded the duties of a Christian in the exact sense of 
 the word. Hence it arose, that communions in Geneva 
 degenerated into mere national solemnities, which no 
 one could omit without casting suspicion on his patriotism 
 and respectability. In accordance with this tradition, in 
 the great annual fast-day sermons, in which our pastors 
 are in the habit of speaking in a more pointed and special 
 manner to their parishioners, infrequent attendance at the 
 
132 LIFE OF CuESAR MALAK 
 
 Lord's table figured constantly in the list of the scandalous 
 ofiPences with which the population, considered as such, 
 were charged. Participation in that solemn ordinance had 
 come to be regarded without reference to the living faith 
 in the heart of the communicant, but merely as a thing 
 to be done ; and that not only because it was proper and 
 incumbent, but because the doing of it secured the favour 
 of heaven. Impressions such as these were not wanting 
 in other Protestant Churches ; they were nowhere perhaps 
 more apparent than in the Church of Geneva. 
 
 Such a state of things as this called loudly for a protest. 
 How this protest was to be expressed became a question 
 only to be decided by the circumstances which rendered it 
 necessary. Theoretically, of course, there were two ways 
 open; either to regard all discipline in reference to the 
 Holy Communion as a matter to be left to the responsibility 
 of the communicant himself, care beingj taken on the one 
 hand to instruct him as to his duty, while all risk of placing 
 him in a false position by the misapplication of rules and 
 requirements was avoided ; or, on the other hand, to 
 entrust that discipline to the ministers themselves to 
 exercise it in behalf of their flocks, by welcome or ex- 
 clusion, as occasion should arise. 
 
 As a matter of fact, however, such an alternative as this, 
 which even now might fail to be immediately obvious to 
 many of the clergy, could scarcely have presented itself to 
 Malan, brought up as he had been in a Church where the 
 predominating influence of the clergy had resulted in de- 
 priving the religious life of the faithful of all unfettered 
 individual action. From the moment, therefore, when he 
 detected the abuses we have just pointed out, he fastened 
 
WHAT UE WANTED FOR HIS TASK. 133 
 
 upon the question of discipline, not as one to be studied 
 anxiously on its own merits, but as involving particular 
 obligations incumbent upon liim in his ecclesiastical capa- 
 city — obligations all the more urgent in his eyes, as he had 
 daily proof of the evils resulting from their neglect. 
 
 Granted that these abuses constituted a p'iwia facie 
 ground for maintaining as a principle the necessity for 
 ecclesiastical discipline, the mere contemplation of them 
 could never have sufficed as a practical guide, in respect of 
 ways and means of remedy, to the founder of a model 
 Church. Such an enterprise required an experience and a 
 class of qualifications very different from his. To him the 
 task was far from reducing itself to a mere servile repeti- 
 tion of what he might have imagined to be the constitution 
 of the Apostolic Churches. Ox^posed to such a principle 
 of imitation, as it is sometimes called, a principle which 
 had made Puritans of some amongst his brethren, in the 
 strict historical sense of the term, no sooner had he 
 felt himself called upon to found a religious community, 
 than he saw it to be his duty to frame its future constitution. 
 
 Meanwhile, he had no precedents to guide him to his 
 task, and no other material to work upon, than his general 
 conception of the Presbyterian Constitution. But this was 
 not enough for all that he required. To fit him for his 
 undertaking, he needed a thorough insight into the history 
 of Genevan Protestantism; more than this, of the Clnistian 
 Church itself, from which the Protestant Communion had 
 sprung, in all the principles of its origin, and all the details 
 of its protracted and laborious progress. Over against 
 these indispensable qualifications, we must set his own 
 alleged total ignorance on the subject, and the considera- 
 
134 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAK 
 
 tion that it had never been comprehended in any of his 
 earlier studies. 
 
 But more even than this. To found a Church requires 
 not only a definite and perspicuous creed, a decided and 
 consistent character, Christian charity equally sincere and 
 active, with a heart thoroughly renewed — all this my father 
 had in a high degree — but, in addition to these qualifications, 
 infinite capacity for management, a minute study of details, 
 an ever- watchful caution, and, to crown all, consummate 
 tact, the fruit of an intimate insight into men and 
 character, impossible to a man in an isolated position, 
 from sheer want of opportunity. 
 
 These qualifications, however, w^ere neither natural to 
 him, nor were his circumstances such as to admit of his 
 acquiring them. Truth compels me to allow that not only 
 was a pastor's work unsuited to him, but that it differed 
 essentially, both in character and significance, from the 
 duties he had been led to undertake. Called to be a witness, 
 a confessor, and an apostle, we may say of him what the 
 chief of the apostles scrui^led not to say of himself, that 
 " he was not sent to baptize, but to preach the gospel." If, 
 as will appear, he proved himself a loved and revered 
 pastor to his little flock, if his memory survives to this 
 hour in the cherished affections of his people, it is not the 
 less true that the task to which he was summoned was 
 one of personal testimony, and that his chapel, which had 
 been expressly and solely founded in view of such a work, 
 w^as really to cease with his own labours. 
 
 The leading difference between the work of a pastor and a 
 missionary lies in this, that while the latter is concerned 
 only with eternal truths and absolute facts, the former is for 
 
EVILS OF THE "EOTATION" SYSTEM. 135 
 
 ever being associated witli np-springing interests, and hence 
 is called npon to exhibit a capacity for devoting himself, 
 without neglect of higher duties, to the thousand various 
 contingencies which they involve. This was very far from 
 liis gift. Looking at everything from the most serious 
 point of view, tracing each offence, not to its secondary or 
 accidental source, but to those abstract principles which his 
 spirit so rapidly divined, and the issues of which he so 
 vividly apprehended, it was too probable that with him every 
 act of heedlessness would be a crime, every unenlightened 
 sentiment a heresy, every opposition to his personal influ- 
 ence a flat rebellion against his ministerial office. 
 
 Still, there is one characteristic of the pastoral office, as 
 it exists in Geneva up to the present day, which may serve 
 to throw light upon his compliance with the wishes of his 
 confrreQation. I refer to that custom of a rotation of 
 preachers in the town churches, which has so often 
 aiTested the attention of chance visitors. 
 
 In Geneva the pastors of the N'ational Church preach, 
 in due succession, in each of the city pulpits. Thus the 
 town is in the position of one large parish, with several 
 ministers. The result is that, though certainly the jooor 
 and the young are looked after to a greater extent than 
 generally prevails, as far as the religious life in individuals 
 is concerned, the system works indifferently. Those per- 
 sonal and sustained relations which should exist between 
 a minister and the separate members of his flock are lost 
 sic^ht of, in the absence of that unitinGj influence which 
 leads those who hear the same pastor, Sunday after 
 Sunday, to regard themselves as parts of a special re- 
 ligious community. 
 
136 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAX. 
 
 Possibly it was owing to this that, in the country where 
 each Church had its own pastor, dissent failed to gain 
 ground. This, too, even more than the special circum- 
 stances which troubled it in 1830, may serve to explain 
 how the Church of Testimony was arrested in its progres- 
 sive career. It was at that time that the district in 
 which it stood was formed by the Venerable Assembly into 
 a separate parish, and furnished with a resident minister. 
 
 And yet, however correct these various conjectures may 
 be, and however indisputable the fact that my father 
 became a pastor, more from special circumstances than 
 in consequence of what would have been a decided voca- 
 tion to that particular office, it must, nevertheless, be 
 acknowledged that although he fulfilled pastoral duties 
 towards a congregation of some magnitude only for the 
 space of six years, he discharged the obligations of his 
 office, to the very end of his life, with the utmost perse- 
 verance and conscientiousness. 
 
 I have before me a private register from the year 1825 
 to November 1863, when he preached for the last time. 
 It is entitled, '' Transactions du Troupeau et de la 
 Diaconie de I'Egiise." Here we find set down, his admis- 
 sions of catechumens, the receptions or retirements, and 
 sometimes even the expulsion of members, with a list of 
 baptisms and marriages. It is written in his own hand, 
 and, till 1830 especially, Sunday after Sunday. Up to 
 that period it appeared like a record of the deliberations 
 of a self-governing community, after which it resembled 
 more the personal notes of the ruler of a Church. On the 
 the first page, dated February 1825, we find the question 
 to be answered by every candidate for admission : " Are 
 
ONE BODY. 137 
 
 you convinced, from the Word of God, that you ought to 
 separate yourself unreservedly from the Church of the 
 multitude ; and are you really doing it ? " 
 
 In spite of its smallness, this little community escaped 
 those contracted views which too often prove the bane of 
 isolated congregations. It is only right to say that, amongst 
 all the dissenting communions around, it was pre-eminently 
 conspicuous for the catholicity of its spirit. 
 
 Always at peace within itself, and, thanks to the clear 
 teaching and elevated spirit of its pastor, enjoying a happy 
 immunity from those intestine divisions with which other 
 communities were visited, it dis]olayed genuine spiritual 
 Hfe and practical consistency. Though composed of some 
 amongst the poorest classes, the frequent collections for 
 any special cause, or for general evangelical purposes, sur- 
 passed, in amount, the highest expectations of its pastor. 
 Then, too, the destitute were carefully looked after. It 
 supported schools, and made itself acquainted more or 
 less directly with such occurrences among its individual 
 members as called for peculiar sympathy or prayer. 
 Thus it was, in the fullest sense of the term, a large 
 spiritual family, thoroughly pervaded by mutual intimacy, 
 — those who composed it living near one another, and 
 meeting one another, Sunday after Sunday, in the quiet 
 and pleasant garden, and in the chapel where he wlio 
 ministered was at once their pastor and their friend. 
 
 Apropos of the above, we may say of this little com- 
 munity that, like other separate congregations which had 
 arisen out of the first revival, it was essentially personal 
 in its character; in other words, both in its origin and con- 
 struction, it was the creation of an individual inihience. 
 
138 LIFE OF CMSAR MALAK 
 
 !N"ot that we are to infer from tins that it lacked in- 
 dependent life. Its pastor, not contented with urging it 
 to separate action, insisted most emphatically on the general 
 principle, that a Chnrch is nothing more than a body of 
 Christians fortnitoiisly associated for mutual edification; 
 so that the fact of being admitted into it does not make 
 any one a Christian. This proposition was as distinctly 
 opposed to the theory of the divine right of ministers, 
 with which my father was credited, as to that of the di^dne 
 institution of the Church visible, which had also been 
 asserted around him. 
 
 Agreeably with this, he held excommunication to be 
 nothing more than a matter of external discipline, and to 
 be no exclusion from the spiritual body. Admission to the 
 Lord's Supper, moreover, and admission to the Church, he 
 kept carefully distinct. Hence he prevailed upon his 
 X^eople to resolve (in 1827) that young people should not 
 become members of the Church but on their ^\Titten appli- 
 cation, and after they had been communicants a whole 
 year. The fact is, that refusals of admission were deter- 
 mined by reasons in no way affecting Christian character. 
 For example, in 1825 the Church decided not to receive a 
 husband or a wife, whose partner in either case remained 
 a member of another congregation; and, in 1826, any 
 applicants whose affairs were in confusion or who had not 
 X^aid their debts. Eemissness in Sabbath observance was 
 also a plea of exclusion. We may observe that this dis- 
 cipline was by no means due to the pastor alone ; on the 
 contrary, his influence was often exerted to moderate the 
 extreme rigour which some of the brethren were disposed 
 to exhibit (as for example, on the Sunday question). 
 
ATTACKS FROM JFITEOUT. 139 
 
 To tliese details, we may add that the commiTnity 
 nominated the deacons, who had to present a report, signed 
 by the minister and themselves. It also voted the regula- 
 tion of admission or exclusion ; to it were addressed all 
 letters from other Churches, or from private individuals. 
 It sent out evangelists, and nominated a committee of 
 home missions, and finally set apart for observance special 
 fasts and festivals. 
 
 Such was the state of things from 1825 to 1830, as shown 
 by the register to which I have referred. It is impossible 
 to read its pages without deep interest, and a passing 
 regret that so important a movement was on so small a 
 scale ; more particularly that the powerful originality, the 
 incessant activity, and the talents of its leader were so 
 often involuntarily exercised on insignificant trifles, or in 
 repelling personal attacks, directed from without, against 
 the character and authority of his ministry. 
 
 From such a regret, however, my father was altogether 
 free. Though, more particularly towards the end of his 
 life, his position became oppressive, as he keenly realised 
 his isolation ; though he felt by degrees that his congrega- 
 tion must necessarily dissolve at his death, he never shrank 
 from his work. Now that he is gone, we to whom he min- 
 istered can see the wisdom of God in not suffering a Cliurch 
 which had originated under His divine blessing, out of the 
 living faith of its pastor, to degenerate into a sectarian 
 community, with nothing but the old name retained. We 
 feel, how often, where the human element creeps in, it 
 tends to expel the presence of that blessed Si:)irit, likened, 
 in all His operations, to the wind " blowing as it lists." 
 
 But to return to the time when the little chapel was 
 
140 LIFE OF CjFSAE MALAN. 
 
 still flourisliing, and when its pastor, in tlie full maturity 
 of Ms talents, took care to make it participate in all the 
 work of his ministry. Whenever he set out on a mission 
 tour he asked the prayers of his congregation, and on his 
 return related to them anything that might interest or 
 edify. He invited them to participate in the joys and 
 sorrows of those amongst its numbers who wished him to 
 do so, and was wont even, with his characteristic simplicity 
 and kindliness, to announce any special occurrence in his 
 own family leading him to ask for their intercessions. He 
 asked them to be present at marriages or baptisms, or on 
 the occasion of the admission of young members, who were 
 always expected to make public profession of their faith, 
 or at the ordination of ministers — a not uncommon 
 solemnity in his chapel — at which various nonconform- 
 ing pastors in Geneva, and often from other countries, were 
 accustomed to assist. 
 
 Besides his own congregation, his chapel was visited by 
 numerous strangers. More particularly, in the twelve 
 years previous to the foundation of the Oratoire,'^ there was 
 frequently a crowded attendance, and, as the greater 
 part was generally English, after he had preached in 
 French, he would resume his discourse in that langjuac^e. 
 In those days he was many a time followed as he left the 
 pulpit, so that he was occupied in incessant ministry 
 throughout the day, both public and private. 
 
 Occasionally ministers from abroad applied for his pid- 
 pit, and to such of them as could not express themselves 
 fluently in French, he himself acted as interpreter. We 
 
 * The name of the chapel founded in 1830 by the Evangelical Society 
 under Gaussen, Merle d'Aubigu^, &c. — xYo^c hy Translator. 
 
PEACE WITHIN. 141 
 
 shall have occasion, by and by, to describe a communion 
 Sunday in his congregation. Thus his life, and that of his 
 Church, came into mutual contact in a thousand ways, and 
 that by an influence as simply exercised as it was freely 
 accepted ; so that his ministry, especially up to 1830, would 
 have been eminently peaceable but for the collisions with 
 the seceding communion, whose formation had preceded 
 that of his own congregation at a considerable interval. 
 Surrounded by simple-minded people who owed to his 
 ministrations aU the spiritual light which they sought ever 
 to increase at his hands, esteemed as everything to them, 
 in not merely furnishing them with a place of worship, but 
 with the very instruction and exhortation they desired, 
 even with the very hymns in which they celebrated the 
 praises of God, it would seem that he was destined to con- 
 tinue with them to the end, their beloved and revered pastor. 
 Never did a note of discord make itself heard within 
 the community. His influence was too overwhelming, the 
 veneration which hedged him in too profound, to admit of 
 any opposition to his ministry arising from among his own 
 people.* 
 
 * A word here respecting the pecuniary advantages which my father 
 derived from his congregation, a matter about which much misrepresenta- 
 tion has taken place. At first such a question was not even entertained. 
 A little before 1S30, however, a friend of his, a Vaudois clergyman, hap- 
 pening to visit him, spoke to the members of the congregation and to 
 my father himself of the necessity, on many accounts, of their presenting 
 hun with a salary. That visit decided the arrangement, which was kept 
 up for about fifteen years. The sum, at first collected by the deacons, and 
 afterwards deposited (as successive members desired to contribute) in a 
 church box, labelled, "for the ministry of the chapel," amounted, on an 
 average, to 500f. a year, or £20. These details were procured by the 
 author from one of the surviving deacons of the Church, a man well known 
 in the congregation, and who helped Malan in his ministry nearly from its 
 commencement. 
 
142 LIFE OF CAESAR MALAN. 
 
 But outside it was different. The Cliurcli of the Bourg 
 de Four, more especially, distinguished by religious indi- 
 vidualism, and indisposed to bow to its own pastors, was 
 not likely to bow to him. And hence it came to pass 
 that in its occasional interchanges with Malan's congrega- 
 tion, it often seemed to forget that the pastor of that 
 congregation was the very man whose courage and con- 
 stancy had once received so much of their applause. 
 
 To Malan himself, however much he might desire it, a 
 complete fusion with his brethren was simply impossible, 
 partly from the indefiniteness of their views on the doc- 
 trines of grace, partly from certain Baptist tendencies 
 which sprang up amongst them. To this must be added, 
 on their side, all those discussions concerning the constitu- 
 tion and government of a religious community, which, in- 
 asmuch as they necessarily, especially in so reduced a 
 sphere, involved personal questions, could not fail to mix 
 up bitter dissensions with what ought to have merely 
 given rise to a distinction between the two communities. 
 At that fact of a distinction my father wished them to 
 stop. Even when he found himself obliged to constitute a 
 separate Church, its external regulation never appeared to 
 him of primary importance ; nor did it involve in his 
 eyes a question of dogma. From the very beginning he 
 handled all such matters in the most liberal spirit, reserv- 
 ing the widest possible margin for difference of sentiment, 
 and adaptation to the peculiar circumstances of each 
 Church. AVliile Establishment men and dissenters around 
 liim were wrangling about things essentially external ; 
 while, especially, (at the time of which we are speaking, 
 1824-1825), the congregation of the Bourg de Four was 
 
THE CnUECII OF TEE BOUIIG DE FOUR. U3 
 
 confounding visible Avitli spiritual unity, lie did not liesi- 
 tate to affirm what M. Lost repeated afterwards, that 
 "invisible agreement amid visible disagreements was the 
 constant law of the kingdom of God." High as were the 
 views he held of the dignity of the pastoral office, he never 
 could regard the Church external as directly and expressly 
 constituted and ordained from above. Hence arose the 
 difficulties which beset him in his relations with the Bourg 
 de Four. 
 
 Admitting the inexjDediency of setting down here the 
 details of this quasi-coUision, it will be desirable to glance 
 at them sufficiently to show the special line my father 
 took, and the spirit which animated his flock. The sub- 
 jects which led to the disagreements were purely passing 
 questions, such as cannot fail even now to present them- 
 selves to the consideration of the Churches in proportion 
 as they diverge from the path of old traditions, while it is 
 to be remarked that all modern ecclesiastical progress is 
 invariably in that direction. 
 
 But, in order clearly to understand the point, it may be 
 as well to refer to the position of the Church of the 
 Bourg de Four at the time of which we are speaking. 
 
 Anxious, above everything, to cultivate intimate relations 
 with their brethren in the faith, the members of this con- 
 gregation were penetrated by a peculiar dread of isolation, 
 or, as they termed it, sectarianism. This is evident from 
 an "expose," addressed by then- pastors in October 1825, 
 " to all the Churches of Christ." 
 
 After recalling the truth that there is " one fold and one 
 shepherd," they went on to show how each minister was 
 not the shepherd, but the mere servant uf his lluck. They 
 
144 LIFE OF CyFSAE MALAN. 
 
 then went on to say that each separate Church was but a 
 portion of the fold of Jesns Christ. Each sheep, they argued, 
 belonged to the general fold, and not to that particular 
 portion of it where the shepherd might have placed him. 
 This led to the obvious conclusion that no sheep could 
 submit himself to one under shepherd exclusively ; and 
 that, on the other hand, all faithful shepherds should hold 
 themselves, in a measure, responsible to give spiritual 
 nurture to all sheep in the universal fold. 
 
 Under the influence of these opinions the Church of the 
 Bourg de Four published a rule by which it declared that 
 every believer, communicating in its chapel, was bound to 
 submit himself to all that Scripture teaches in reference to 
 the mutual relation betvreen pastors and flocks ; in other 
 words, that every one who took the communion in that 
 congregation was expected to bow to the pastoral authority 
 of its special conductors. 
 
 On receivincf this sino-ular declaration, Malan's conjjre- 
 gation responded by a letter the length of which compels 
 me reluctantly to quote it only in part. Setting forth 
 their high esteem for the pastors of the other Church, the 
 members of the Pre I'Eveque express their regret that, 
 by the declaration come to hand, they are virtually pre- 
 cluded from communicating henceforth, as they had fre- 
 quently done, in the Bourg de Four, inasmuch as to do 
 so, according to the terms of that declaration, woidd 
 require them to withdraw themselves from the care of 
 their own minister, to be presided over by one of the 
 sister community. 
 
 " To show you," says the letter, " that we greatly regret 
 the necessity to which your rule has reduced us, we 
 
UNITY IX DIVEBSITY. 145 
 
 prayerfully invite you, in tlie Name of the Lord, to come 
 amongst ns, and communicate with us as often as oppor- 
 tunity offers. We assure you that, by so receiving you, 
 "sve should place no yoke on your necks ; that it would he 
 far from our thought that, by fraternising with us, you 
 would come under our pastor's authority. So come, dear 
 brethren, for we interpose no hindrance. Be present with 
 us at the table of the same Lord. You prevent us from 
 coming to you, but since the same difficulties do not pre- 
 sent themselves in our case, rejoice our hearts by your 
 presence." 
 
 In addition to this letter, my father ^Tote liimsclf to 
 the pastors of the sister congregations. 
 
 In this letter he enters into a full justification of the 
 reply forwarded by his people. I need quote but one 
 sentence, in which he censures the idea " that a national 
 Cliurch is the world, or that any one, in taking the com- 
 munion in such a church, would, by that act alone, fail in 
 Ins duty as a child of God." All this, however, he laid 
 down in detail in an essay called "Unity in Diversity," 
 which, though it was printed by him at the time, inihappily 
 was never circulated. 
 
 Distinguishing at the outset between the inward and 
 spiritual, and outward and visible Church, he declares that 
 essential unity can co-exist with external di^'ersity. lie 
 then goes on to obviate all confusion of ideas, to which 
 such theories may have given rise: 1. As to the visible 
 unity of the universal Church ; 2. As to the mutual atti- 
 tude of separate Churches; 3. As to the pastoral duties 
 and autliority. 
 
 On the first point he remarks : " As fur the unity of the 
 
146 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAK 
 
 Cliurcli, it appears to me tliat the SavioTir's kingdom is not 
 of this world ; that is, is not visible. In a spiritual sense 
 tlie Lord Jesus is the sole Shepherd of the flock But as 
 far as earthly and temporal circumstances are concerned, 
 does He show Himself in that capacity ? Even at the 
 INIillennium will He appear as a visible Shepherd ? I do 
 not think so. Hence He calls Himself Supreme Bishop 
 and Pastor, implying that He has others under Him, 
 whose flocks should submit themselves to an administra- 
 tion adapted to their peculiar wants and circumstances. 
 
 St Paul, dwelling upon this point in a letter to two 
 temporal shepherds, recalls to their minds, not the great 
 abstract principles of ecclesiastical discipline, but the parti- 
 cular instructions they had received from his own life. That 
 over-ruling Providence, wonderful in counsel, and infinite 
 in resource, settles for such and such souls the .discipline 
 best adapted to their condition : nor does He work other- 
 wise in the general body, wherever represented and however 
 characterised. Whilst the sheep feed in different pastures, 
 and are nourished up unto God's kingdom and glory, the 
 great fold is preparing above ; that fold is the city of God, 
 the new Jerusalem. 
 
 With regard to the second point, he found that this want 
 of distinction between the temporal and spiritual element 
 in the Church had the effect of preventing those he was 
 addressing from arriving at a fair estimate of the mutual 
 relation subsisting between visible communions, inas- 
 much as it led them to conclude that the pastors of any 
 special congregation were pastors of tlie Church collectively, 
 as soon as the whole Church was in spiritual communion 
 with that single body. He then shows them how by such 
 
TEE PASTOLAL OFFICE. 147 
 
 a tlieoiy tliey mix up general and strictly pastoral dis- 
 cipline. 
 
 " Of course," lie adds, " it would be most desirable to see 
 Cliurclies united in discipline as well as faith, so long as 
 tliey continued true to the gospel they professed. But 
 such uniformity does not exist, and we must allow that 
 the Chief Shepherd of the flock can give His own reasons 
 of infinite wisdom for dispensing with it. ISTor can we 
 doubt that He approves of this external diversity, since 
 He owns and prospers communions differing materially in 
 mere externals. Yours is a proof of the truth of this. I 
 know that it has been abundantly blessed ; but then the 
 same is true of others also." 
 
 " The greatest Church privilege," he resumes, — and the 
 word is characteristic from his point of view, — " is the 
 spiritual guidance which the pastoral office provides; all 
 other benefits fall infinitely short of this, — to be under the 
 discipline of the Lord Himself, to be taught, reproved, 
 corrected, and instructed in righteousness by men of God, 
 to whom He has entrusted this solemn charge." Tlien, as 
 a proof that this statement in no way exhibited a sectarian 
 spirit, he supposes that there would be in Geneva three or 
 four other faithful Churches, national or independent, and 
 professing the same faith as his own. A stranger passing 
 through the city, and communicating in all of these, could 
 scarcely be held to be a member of each. Otherwise, to 
 which of them would he belong, in points wherein they 
 differed from one another ; as, for instance, baptism ? 
 
 From this he passes on to the third point relating to the 
 pastoral charge. " Of course, most honoured brethren, 
 particular Chiu'ches are mere sections of the universal 
 
H8 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 Cliurcli, but, I think each flock shouhl have its own shep- 
 herd, who should call in assistance, such as the Diaconate 
 furnishes, chosen by the Church for its temporal govern- 
 ment." Observing that each of the seven Churclies of 
 Asia received separate and special instructions, he argues 
 the solemn responsibility laid on Christian ministers to 
 guard the truth committed to them, of which they will 
 have to give account. 
 
 He undertakes to demonstrate that as each individual 
 soul has its own separate needs, the pastor could not ex- 
 ercise his office satisfactorily, in utter ignorance of these 
 personal details. Touching the pastoral authority, he 
 quotes the direction to a bishop to employ in the govern- 
 ment of the Church of God that careful administration 
 which he would exercise in his own household (1 Tim. 
 iii. 4.) As each family has its Head, so should it be 
 with every flock; and we may rest assured that He "Who 
 has been appointed over His own spiritual house — that is, 
 the Son of God — will ever be found distributing to separate 
 pastors such wisdom and prudence as shall tend, in their 
 manifestation, to the honour and praise of God. 
 
 Thus, it will appear, that in the Church, the spiritual 
 and the temporal, the duties of ministers and the office of 
 pastors must never be confounded. Xor must we confine 
 ourselves to seeing, on the one hand, only the invisible 
 kingdom of the Lord Jesus, as established by His Spirit in 
 the hearts of believers ; or, on the other, a mere system of 
 scientific evangelical lore ; neglecting, meanwhile, " that 
 personal and progressive application which bears upon the 
 everyday life of the people of God." 
 
 He then glanced at the practical impossibility of sub- 
 
ONE LORD. U 
 
 jectiiig one Cluircli to the rule of many pastors. " From 
 the autocrat who sways the destinies of an empire to the 
 humble swain who has but a few goats to look after, all 
 power proceeds from the only true absolute Source of 
 Power, and Who, in the eternity of His resources, and the 
 wisdom of His appliances, governs the whole creation, not 
 only in a grandly comprehensive sense, but in respect of 
 its minutest details. But it is clear that over this vast 
 concourse of powers or inferior agencies there cannot 
 be two supreme wills in exercise at one and the same 
 tima Find me a kuigdom, or a province, a society, or a 
 household, with tw^o absolute heads, and you would pro- 
 duce a mere human anomaly, and not a divine economy. 
 And, even should you succeed, you w^ould soon ascertain 
 that, after all, there was but one positive Head, one will 
 for every effect produced ; that the really higher cause 
 was virtually acquiesced in by the others, or, in other 
 words, existed alone. 
 
 " To say that any congregation not refusing to admit 
 the governance of many pastors is a sect, is to affix that 
 stigma to the congregations of those faithful and renowned 
 Churches which God has planted in England, Scotland, 
 Ireland, France, Switzerland, Germany, Holland, through- 
 out America, in Asia and Africa ; all which maintain and 
 teach that a Church which has many flocks has as many 
 pastors as flocks. So stands the case, for example, with the 
 Presbyterian Church of Geneva, or with that of France." 
 He concludes by examining one by one the Scripture 
 passages quoted against him. 
 
 I thought it desirable to give this long extract, because 
 Malan lias been credited with extreme narrow-mindedness 
 
150 LIFE OF CjESAR MALAK 
 
 in reference to the entire dispute. For my own ]Dart, as I 
 glance at the piety, moderation, and (once admit the idea 
 of the Church common to both parties) the conclusiveness 
 of his arguments, I cannot help recalling Xoeff's letter on 
 the same subject, and regretting once more that two men 
 so well adapted for understanding each other, had been 
 separated by the aversion ISToeff entertained to my father's 
 method of preaching election. 
 
 As we shall see, no alteration took place in my father's 
 views of the question. If he appeared to waive them on 
 certain occasions, — as, for example, when in 1827, as he was 
 starting on a missionary journey, he recommended his flock 
 to abstain from worshipping in the I^ational Church, — the 
 reasons he gave prove that it was not the constitution of 
 the Establishment that he objected to, but its erroneous 
 teaching. These principles explain the position he alone, 
 of all the dissenting ministers, took with reference to the 
 question of separation between Church and State, as well as 
 his attitude towards the Free Church of Scotland, and also 
 the Evangelical Church which was established in Geneva 
 in 1849. On these different occasions, while entirely 
 sympathising with his brethren, he invariably postponed to 
 the right of private judgment and independence of individual 
 members, the desire to identify a more visible conformity 
 with that true and essential unity which the truth creates. 
 
 Eeferring only to the period antecedent to 1830, this dis- 
 agreement on ecclesiastical points rendered it increasingly 
 hopeless for him to attempt to come to a thorough union 
 with his dissenting brethren round him. 
 
 N'ot only did he deeply regret that estrangement, but it 
 also involved him in much misrepresentation. Yet, though 
 
SUMMING UP. 151 
 
 lie was known to lament this among liis private friends, lie 
 was never heard to recriminate. It was not till after he 
 died, that I met with documents which put the matter in 
 its proper light. As I read them, they conjured up before 
 me, with regard to the relation existing between my father 
 and the leaders on the o^Dposite side, the unhappy spectacle 
 of an enthusiastic and generous man, a stranger to every 
 species of dissimulation and suspicion, encountering minds 
 too often unable to understand him, and hearts that could 
 seldom rise to the level of his feelings. As far as he was 
 concerned, he seems to me to have been too little able to 
 place himself in the position of those whose judgments he 
 too keenly resented. In his dealings with his " beloved 
 brethren," as he continually calls them, he appeared never 
 to have been able to unite with the harmlessness of the 
 dove, which all recognised in his bearing, that wisdom of 
 the serpent which the heavenly Master no less enjoins. 
 
 As has been already said, it would be better to avoid 
 dwelling longer on debates in which both sides appeared to 
 give to the questions at issue an exaggerated importance. 
 Unquestionably, there were not wanting those who w^ere 
 ready to attribute to individual bias an opposition naturally 
 arising from an essential divergence in first principles. On 
 the one hand, it would have been well to have seen in the 
 " brethren," not the spirit of this world, which had been so 
 loudly repudiated, with its polished fashions and plausible 
 forms, but of another, its superior even in this special 
 respect ; while, on the other hand, the truth might have 
 been more constantly remembered, that this better world, 
 instead of being promised to the faithful bulow, is part of 
 that future which all are taught to expect. From the 
 
152 LIFE OF CjFSAE MALAK 
 
 moment any one made a distinct profession, lie was expected 
 to exhibit in fullest development all the crowning graces 
 of ideal Christianity. This was to forget that the Com- 
 munion of Saints is a thing of faith, as well as of sight ; 
 and that Christ's kingdom is not, and cannot be, of this 
 world. 
 
 Considerations like the above may serve to explain the 
 spirit and attitude of the congregation in the Bourg de 
 Four. Starting into life in 1817, eight years before the 
 community in the Pre rEveque was established, my 
 father's act in preferring a congregation of his own to 
 union w^ith them was openly attributed to a sectarian and 
 schismatical spirit. This judgment they supported by a 
 declaration of ecclesiastical principles, published in 1825. 
 Although they freely withdrew it three years afterguards, 
 they did not scruple to return the decided refusal which 
 my father, (not as a Cliristian brother, but in his capacity 
 as the conductor of a distinct congregation,) opposed to 
 their desire of external unity, by attacks aimed not only 
 at his public ministry, but even at his private character. 
 
 I have before me a lengthy memoir, in which, setting 
 aside all private and personal questions, he reviews his 
 j)ublic life from 1818, with the object of refuting these 
 accusations. He brings before those to whom he is writ- 
 ing the numerous proofs he had given them from the very 
 first, of his brotherly spirit, and explains at the same time 
 the real character of the question on which they split. 
 The address is quiet, dignified, and affectionate. I will 
 confine myself to one extract, illustrative of what has been 
 already said as to his views on the necessity for separate 
 communions. 
 
FOLLOWING PEACE. 153 
 
 In connection witli the opinion wliicli had been put 
 forth that one Church was sufficient for a town, he says, 
 " It is by no means reasoning soundly in the interests of 
 Church constitution and discipline to urge that we ought 
 to reproduce a servile imitation of the Primitive Church, 
 since, in laying down such a principle, we suffer ourselves 
 to be led by the Church instead of by the Spirit of God. 
 That Divine Teacher, Whose infinite wisdom adapts itself 
 to all the phases of varying conditions, while He has given, 
 in the letters to Timothy and Titus, endless directions for 
 the ministers of God, can vouchsafe to us and our flocks 
 like holy guidance, suggesting, directing, or deciding, 
 both with reference to their peculiar and special wants, 
 and to the greater advancement of the cause of the gospel, 
 in the presence of various particular circumstances." 
 
 Elsewhere he makes earnest appeal to the fraternal 
 spirit of those to whom he is writing, by reminding them 
 that they had replied to the letter from his congregation, 
 referred to above, with the utmost wisdom and charity ; 
 and recalling the circumstance that, in 1827 and 1828, the 
 two bodies had frequently communicated together, and the 
 pastors exchanged pulpits. 
 
 He regrets that divisions should have transpired 
 between them, while the explanations which he adds show 
 that his chief offences consisted in his using his academical 
 title of doctor in theology, his wearing his bachelor's gown 
 in the pulpit, or rather, as it was called, his preacher's 
 robe, but, above all, the absolute independence wliich he 
 claimed for himself and his special work. 
 
 The very fact that he was thus assailed, gave a pro- 
 minence to himself and everything connected with him, 
 
154 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 whicli could not fail to "be in a measure irksome to liis 
 flock 
 
 Meanwhile liis work continued to prosper. ISTot only, 
 especially after 1827, did tlie attendance of strangers at his 
 cliapel become very considerable ; but, in March 1830, the 
 congregation was forced to take into consideration the 
 expediency of erecting a second building elsewhere for its 
 regular members, now too numerous to be accommodated 
 in the Pre I'Eveque. 
 
 All this could not but revive either the susceptibilities or 
 the scruples of the sister Church. Taken up with their 
 ecclesiastical views, they saw, in an ordinary illustration 
 of the law of progress, the advancing shade of arrogance, 
 and premeditated priestly despotism. Especially at a time 
 when, in the religious as well as in the political world, the 
 very semblance of authority was apt to raise a cry, (French 
 Eevolution of 1830,) such an accusation needed only 
 to be hinted at to find eager acceptance. We cannot 
 wonder, therefore, at its having spread by degrees amongst 
 the members of the congregation of the Pre I'Eveque, 
 whose community had so long been characterised by the 
 peace it enjoyed. 
 
 In May 1830, my father, perceiving signs of uneasiness 
 in many members of his flock, appealed to them generally 
 for a vote of confidence. True to himself, he grounded his 
 application, not on the claims of his ministry, but the sound- 
 ness of his teaching ; taking care, at the same time, in his 
 conscientious uprightness, to present them with a summary 
 of it, most explicitly worded. Thus he transformed his 
 Church into a theological council. The result might easily 
 have been anticipated. Even those who were capable of 
 
FORSAKEN, 155 
 
 following their pastor into tlie field of dogmatic theology, 
 did not fail to detect, when tliey arrived there, matter for 
 scruple. The majority denied his right to impose upon 
 them officially the faith which they held spontaneously, 
 and thus the most advanced and the most independent of 
 his adherents withdrew from the Church. It lost about a 
 third of its meniDers, who went over forthwith to the Bourg 
 de Four. 
 
 This secession has been occasionally represented as the 
 consequence of the pride of success, which my father is 
 said to have displayed. This was the opinion taken up by 
 Dr Ostertag of Bale, in the truthful and touching notice of 
 ^lalan, which he published. He would liave found in this 
 dogmatism, which he so justly appreciated, a more satisfac- 
 tory explanation of facts which he could only have appre- 
 hended but by report. 
 
 Tlie truth is that my father, in his dealings with his 
 church, had no choice but to exercise an influence heartily 
 aclviiowledged ; still further, that in tlie zealous and loving 
 discharge of the duties which a trusting people had laid 
 upon him, there was nothing to give rise either to pride or 
 ambition in a man of his parts. On the contrary — and 
 here my testimony merits acceptance — no one was less of a 
 despot than he, if by despotism we understand, as we 
 ought, not the absorbing influence exercised involuntarily 
 by a superior mind, but that pedantic and restless tyranny 
 which asserts itself by gratuitous assaults on the rights 
 and feelings of those it seeks to rule.* To confine myself, 
 
 * To a person who consulted him on a point of ecclesiastical polity, he 
 writes in 1828: — "Why address yourself to any other but our gracious 
 Lord, in order to know His will about these questions. Could I ever have 
 that authority over your conscience which belongs only to God ?" 
 
156 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 however, to the case before us. ISTothing, so far as I can 
 remember, (and of the incidents of May 1830 I have a 
 most vivid recollection), or others whom I have questioned 
 on the subject — nothing, more especially in the numerous 
 documents before me referring to that time, gives the 
 faintest colour to this imputation. On the contrary, every- 
 thing that occurred, so far as he was concerned, tended to 
 impress, and even edify, any unprejudiced person. 
 
 That he had throughout such faults as God alone can 
 be judge of, he openly acknowledged to the brethren, but 
 the very frankness with which he makes his confession 
 deprives his critics of the right of laying others to his 
 charge. 
 
 He writes thus (N"ovember 1830) in the "Memoir" 
 already referred to, with reference to the recent incidents 
 in his Church : — 
 
 " As for these troubles, I am prepared to give account to 
 my Lord and Master of the souls committed to my charge, 
 and He will have mercy on His servant. He knows 
 whereof I am made ; that I am a man prone to error, to 
 every species of infirmity, to every possibility of falling, 
 and His compassions are from everlasting to everlasting. 
 I would fall into His hands, and not into the hands of 
 man. Leave me, I beseech you, in my Saviour's arms, 
 and if you tliink that I am neither happy nor peaceful 
 there — pray the more that I may realise the blessed- 
 ness of His perfect peace. I have erred, I have been led 
 astray, with regard to my authority. I have used it to 
 abuse it. I have \vi'onged my flock, my brethren — those 
 dear to me as my own children. The eternal God, in 
 His mercy, has roused me from my delusion ; He has 
 
DE rnOFUNDIS. 157 
 
 anointed my eyes ; He lias taken me in hand and tanglit 
 me, and the chastisement has been ap2)lied by His fatlierly 
 love. The Lord's name be praised ! He has not let me 
 go. He has come to my soul, and quickened it witli new 
 .life. Had I regarded iniquity in my heart, He ^^•ould not 
 have heard me, but I know that He has not withdrawn 
 His tender mercies from me. ]\[y humiliation is from Him, 
 and He has enabled me to ask forgiveness of my brethren 
 whom I have offended. I do so with all my heart and all 
 my soul, and I will do so more pointedly still if for their 
 satisfaction they require it." He adds, " that Kl all that 
 had occurred no WTong had been done to tn'ose who had 
 reproached him, towards whom he was conscious of no 
 offence, either in thought or action." 
 
 This will show hoAV he condemned himself at this time. 
 It will show, too, his entire freedom from bitterness as he 
 thought of occurrences which could not fail to remind him, 
 though from a different point of view, of his own secession 
 six years before from the National Church. Subsequently, 
 many of the deserters came back, and in no single case did 
 the separation prove a lasting one. Soon after this the 
 Evangelical Society occupied the ground which had hither- 
 to been monopolised by the two congregations which liad 
 represented the Revival movement in Geneva, and greatly 
 diminished their importance. 
 
 From this period (1830), although my father's congrega- 
 tion continued for a considerable time to hold a marked 
 place in the religious world in Geneva, it never A\itncssed 
 a return of its former days. The secession, especially at 
 the time of its occurrence, was a very painful blow to liim. 
 Still he did not suffer himself to despond. His pas- 
 
158 LIFE OF CyFSAE MALAN. 
 
 toral duties being thus considerably reduced, lie occupied 
 himself with waiting and evangelising (the latter a task 
 for which he was eminently fitted). The records of his 
 missionary efforts will now demand our attention. 
 
 Before quitting our present subject, however, there are , 
 two observations to be made — 
 
 And first, and chiefly; however deplorable some of 
 the circumstances just recorded may appear, it is but fair 
 to state that, even by those whose hostility was most 
 openly expressed, the claims of Christian consistency were 
 never utterly and finally disregarded. 
 
 Our second remark bears upon the explanation required 
 of doings so little to be expected from unaffectedly 
 religious men. The truth of the matter is that, except on 
 isolated occasions, the relations between the two congrega- 
 tions were never cordial. Both my personal recollections, 
 and an anxious study of the documents before me — giving 
 a detailed history of events before and after 1830 — con- 
 firm me in the opinion that the cause of these difficulties 
 must be attributed to an essential discrepancy in the 
 lines which each one of these two communities was 
 respectively following. 
 
 Of this my father was distinctly conscious. Ever ready 
 to yield to the impulses of a truly Christian feeling of 
 fraternity; prepared, too, to make advances himself; 
 anxious to prove the liveliness of his esteem by an entire 
 obliviousness of what had distressed him in the past, and 
 by those sacrifices of his own importance to which his 
 generous nature was so ready to urge him ; he had to deal 
 with men who, from the very fact of their inability to give 
 a categorical account of the reasons of their estrangement. 
 
SUBJECTIVE CONTRAST. 159 
 
 were imliappily induced to seek them on personal grounds, 
 thus interposing always a personal element in what 
 ought to have been a purely abstract and independent 
 difference of opinion. IMeanwhile, if we reflect a little on 
 the sj^irit which has disturbed the Church of the Bourg 
 de Four from its commencement — -on the constant striv- 
 ings which it has made to realise an external religious 
 unity — on the Utopian schemes which it has projected 
 from time to time — on the sensitive jealousy of its mem- 
 bers with reference to their rights — on the extreme im- 
 portance attached by them to questions of ecclesiastical 
 administration ; if we go on to recall the period at which, 
 after its augmentation through the secession from the 
 Pre I'Eveque, it w^as invaded by Darbyism — we shall 
 understand how, from the very beginning, its pastors have 
 had to deal with that same ambitious aggressive spirit, 
 that spirit of levelling — envious, and suspicious : which 
 ere long revealed itself in the political life of our little 
 country. 
 
 It will be evident that it was hopeless to expect that 
 one with Malan's temperament, — an ardent lover of 
 symmetry and good order, a poet by nature, with a 
 strong chivalrous leaning to old historical traditions and 
 associations, as well as to the worship of the past, — could 
 harmonise with men like these, except by an effort of 
 charity ; or meet them on any other ground than that of 
 Christian brotherhood. 
 
 "We may state with confidence that the primary source 
 of these lamentable occurrences is to be traced to this 
 opposition, invariably existing between " religious radical- 
 ism " and the conservative ecclesiastical spirit which leans 
 
160 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 not a little on traditional guidance. Meanwhile, it must un- 
 doubtedly be admitted that the events themselves seriously 
 thwarted my father's pastoral work, to which he was so en- 
 tirely devoted, and occasioned no little suffering to himself. 
 
 And yet, this story told, the relations between the two 
 Churches were by no means broken off. As a proof of 
 this, in 1835 a collection was made in the Chapel of 
 Testimony in aid of an institute connected with the other 
 congregation, while, in 1839, the two bodies communicated 
 together. Gradually, however, in consecpience of the in- 
 roads of Darbyism, the oratory of the Evangelical Society 
 became the only asylum of a ministry such as had always 
 existed in Malan's congregation. 
 
 Later on we shall discover what prevented the remnant 
 of that little Church from joining that union which, under 
 the one title of " the Evangelical Church," came to reunite, 
 in 1849, the various dissenting Presbyterians of Geneva. 
 
 I have thought it desirable to add to this chapter a few 
 letters from my father's pastoral correspondence. Ever 
 active as it was, it was one of the most conspicuous 
 elements in his influence. My selection, however, will be 
 limited to the following, which I deem characteristic, the 
 greater part of which I have chosen from those written at 
 the x^eriod just reviewed : — 
 
 I. — TO A CLERGYMAN IXTEERUPTED IN HIS WOEK BY A 
 VISITATION OF SICKNESS. 
 
 '' March 7, 1827. 
 
 " It is not along the easy path of health and unchecked 
 obedience that the minister of Christ learns himself. In 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. IGl 
 
 tlie midst of tlie noble task entrusted to liim, and of the 
 blessings of which he is the steward to so many souls, 
 nothing is easier than for liim to become remiss in self- 
 knowledge. You are highly favoured, brother, in being 
 withdrawn into the silence of Divine teaching, that you 
 may learn for yourself that true self-renunciation brings 
 with it the positive and living experience of tlie good 
 pleasure and of the life of God. When would the minister 
 of the Lord understand that the work entrusted to him is 
 not his own, if not when he is withdrawn from activity 
 and forced to inaction ? The fisherman, sitting down to 
 mend his nets, is no idler! The faithful and tender 
 j\Iaster be present with you ! May you rejoice that He 
 has thus prepared you for nearer communion with Him- 
 self!" 
 
 -TO xVN OLD FRIEXD, EEV. G- 
 
 " March 29, 1S27. 
 
 " Life is very short, and to employ the least part of it 
 in deprivation of communion with God, through doubt 
 and unbelief, is to forget this. Each day solemnises me 
 more ; death seems to me so serious, and meeting witli my 
 God so near, that I abstain from forming any plans. The 
 words, ' Haste Thee ! ' seem to be constantly repeated to 
 me ; and I feel, in short, * how frail I am.' I am fain to 
 weep, too, over my triiling spirit and feeble devotion to 
 the glorious Master I profess to serve ! 
 
 " Serve ! Is the preaching of a gospel so sweet to pro- 
 claim — serving Jesus ? Tlie pulpit should be our resting- 
 l)lace. Our work lies in the whole conduct of the brief 
 life allotted us ; that conduct should be to us a beginning 
 
162 LIFE OF CESAPv MALAN. 
 
 of lieaven. Let us realise, let us realise tlie gospel ! We 
 are not actors on a stage, but men in life, and on the 
 threshold of the unseen world. Eternity, my friend, .... 
 an awful word ! What duration ! Think of the amaze- 
 ment of a Christian first opening his eyes in heaven ; 
 while, as he takes in the reality of what he believed and 
 heard, he receives into his whole soul the conception and 
 the force of the word ' for ever.' 
 
 '' Let us curtail our vanities. There are plenty of them 
 in the ordinary life of Christians : long conversations, long 
 calls, long meals, long nothings, long hypocrisy of senti- 
 ment, long talks about religion ; while, on the one hand, 
 the world with its fashion is passing away ; and, on the 
 other, Jesus stands at the door and knocks. 
 
 "As for religious intelligence, I know not what to say. 
 ' One day at a time,' is my motto ; I am ignorant of the 
 art of conjecturing." 
 
 III. — TO A SOLDIER AT COUET. 
 
 " May 16, 1828. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — First let me say, that, as it appears to 
 me, you make a great mistake in regarding your condition 
 as a soldier as a hindrance to your conversion. The gospel 
 of the grace of God is for all conditions ; it is calculated 
 to make a monarch successful in his difficult task, and 
 a workman equally so, in his obscure and far easier 
 life. 
 
 "In the condition in which you are now placed, and 
 wherein your own will is in submission to that of your 
 superiors, you have the very greatest facilities for learning 
 obedience, and humbling that pride and self-complacency 
 
COBEESPONDENCE. 1G3 
 
 to wliicli we are so prone. Your duty is, ' not to entangle 
 yourself with tlie things of this life, that you may please 
 those who have called you to be a soldier ; ' those, in short, 
 whom God has placed over you, with an authority entrusted 
 to them by Himself. The more attentive you are in the 
 discharge of duty, even in the smallest details, the happier 
 you will be, the freer from reproach. For God blesses 
 order, and a well-regulated life, wherever it is to be found ; 
 and He has attached peace and temporal prosperity to the 
 conscientious fulfilling of tlie recpiirements of our position. 
 I invite you, then, to show yourself exemplary in your 
 trust, and to neglect nothing, so that those over you may 
 have a full and entire satisfaction in you. 
 
 " For example; should you omit any portion of your duty, 
 even for the reading of the Word of God, you fail to observe 
 that command which calls upon you to render to all their 
 dues, and to the king the king's. ISTow, the sovereign you 
 serve has a right to receive from you the service he enjoins. 
 You are in no way permitted to divert or detract even a 
 minute from his time, nor to relax in any way the devotion 
 which your earthly ruler requires and expects. Your 
 readings, therefore, must take place at another time than 
 that demanded for your duties ; nor must they ever inter- 
 fere in the least degree with what you are engaged to do in 
 Ijehalf of the company in which you serve, and the honour 
 of your superiors. 
 
 " Hence it follows, my friend, that your degradation may 
 have arisen from some negligence of yours, rather than 
 from any hostility on the part of the authorities to the 
 principles you profess ; and you may be wrong in attribut- 
 ing to the reproach of Christ a chastisement witli which 
 
164 LIFE OF CjFSAE MALAK 
 
 God Himself has visited your unfaithfulness in your duty. 
 Not that I can speak authoritatively on this head, ignorant 
 as I am of the circumstances. I only say this, that before 
 setting to the account of persecution against the Lord or 
 His children any possible treatment at the hands of man, it 
 would be well for us to examine whether we are ourselves 
 responsible for it, and whether we are not receiving the 
 due reward of our own imprudence." 
 
 IV. — TO A LADY, AGAINST THE ABUSE OF IMAGIXATIOX AND 
 DOGMATISM. 
 
 " January IS, 1S32. 
 
 ". . . . Observe well, whether the Lord Jesus, in His 
 heavenly hidden life, is better known, is better served, by 
 a doctrine. If it be so, if, in short, the soul exercised in 
 these matters, is more humble, more withdrawn from fame 
 and renown, more absorbed into, more intimate with heaven, 
 not through speculation, but the power of spiritual life ; if 
 that soul be, in a word, more clothed with Christ, and not 
 with religious science, then you may conclude that it 
 lives in fact with Jesus. Xow the first effect of that life 
 will be, or I am mistaken, not external movement, even in 
 truths the most generally received in the Churches, but 
 inward meditation, and inward occupation with a blessed 
 immortality. Here then, are my directions, dear sister; 
 the Holy Spirit can, if He deems them right, make use of 
 them for your good ; and if I have not spoken according to 
 the word, He can no less remove their impression, that 
 your soul may not suffer from my counsel. 
 
 "You complain that you have little joy in com- 
 munion with your Lord. Unquestionably the cause of 
 
yr ^ 
 
 COPiBESrOXDENCE. 1 65 
 
 this is to be found in ourselves : either in our T^^ant of 
 honest watchfulness, or of thorough belief that God really 
 loves us, or of attentive study of the full scope of His 
 promises in His Word. Our hearts are dull, they would 
 fain enjoy surrounding things ; and, since our imagination 
 lives too frequently in fictitious excitements and illusions, 
 the solemn and holy reality of faith, of the love of an 
 invisible God, enchains us but little, as being too severe 
 for our nature. It is very necessary to learn this, and to 
 combat it honestly, with habitual prayer, and a solemn 
 vow before God to banish all imaginations and reveries, 
 whencesoever they may arise, and to substitute for them 
 meditation on Himself; for this sincerity is needed. 
 
 " If you love little, let your soul cheer itself with the 
 bliss of being loved. Here, there is no room for doubt ; 
 for what a love is that which the Saviour feels !" 
 
 V. — TO HIS CHURCH, OX THE SPRINGS OF SAXCTIFICATION 
 IX THE SOUL. 
 
 ''June 14, 1S32. 
 
 " We journey together through the world, drawing daily 
 .nearer to death, and to that solemn moment when faith 
 will be exchantjed for sidit, when we shall cease to learn, 
 when there will be no more error, no more delusion, no 
 more temptation, no more sin. God has caused us to know 
 the mystery of His love towards us. It is for us to glorify 
 Him with the adoration and Inniible trust of reconciled 
 children, to whom their father has forgiven everything, and 
 whom He is leading tenderly by the hand to the paternal 
 home, where He will cause them to know all His love. 
 
 " Wherefore, dear friends in the Lord, learn well what 
 
166 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 should be the issue of sucli assurance. Has God done 
 these great things ? has He smitten, has He sacrificed, His 
 Only Begotten ? Has He raised Him up again, only that 
 His elect may be delivered from condemnation ; and that, 
 by believing this, they may rejoice together at freedom 
 from the fear of hell ? Eather, is it not that God has pre- 
 pared and called unto Himself a peculiar people, that they 
 may, first of all, declare His praises here, and that they 
 may, hereafter dwell, for ever in heaven — ^living monu- 
 ments of His grace and glory ? We are raised from 
 the dead, my brethren ! Our soul participates in the first 
 resurrection ; the life that we now live in the flesh we live 
 by faith in Jesus Who has loved us ; and, for the issue, the 
 aim, the accomplishment of that faith which is the image 
 of God in us. In heaven it will be found true that 
 it was not for our sakes that God chose us, but rather 
 for Himself, to show forth His glory in us His creatures, 
 the exceeding riches of His justice and goodness, and 
 to manifest to the world and the powers of heaven the 
 infinite wisdom and holiness of His Divine compassion. 
 Hence we rob God of His right, we take from Him 
 what belono's to Him, if w^e imagine that a chosen one. 
 belongs to himself, that he is at liberty to live accord- 
 ing to his ow^n wdll, and to content himself with 
 merely ceasing to fear hell, and hoping for and expecting 
 heaven. 
 
 " Meditate on these things, my dear flock, whom I am 
 called to nourish in the truth, and for whom I shall have 
 to give account to my jMaster. Tliink seriously, you who 
 are in Christ, on that life in Christ which you ought to 
 live. And how will you say, one day, that your life has 
 
IFEEPIXa in Til THEM THAT JFEEP. 1G7 
 
 been lived, according to tlie life of Christ, if Christ has not 
 dwelt in the details, the constituents of that life ; if your 
 own desires, your own thoughts, your own wisdom, your 
 own interests, your own glory, your own ease, have been 
 the mainspring of your actions. If this has been the case 
 from minute to minute, from hour to hour, without a 
 thought of Christ or His word, without the influence of 
 His Spirit, how will you be able even to suppose hereafter 
 that you have lived in Christ V 
 
 vi. — weittex ix 1838, ix his oavx xame axd ix the 
 name of his coxgregatiox, to certaix seceding 
 chueches at that ti:\ie passing through a period 
 
 of persecutiox.* 
 
 " Dear axd Hoxoured Brethrex ix Jesus Christ — 
 our Life, our Strength, our Hope ! 
 
 " We have experienced in your affliction, from the day 
 we heard of it, the truth that we are one body in Christ, 
 and, through His Spirit, members one of another. The 
 trials that you have had to encounter, and wdiich you are 
 still enduring, in the upholding of your faith, are no strange 
 thing to us, seeing that it has already been our privilege to 
 receive unrighteous dealing from the world, with the wciglit 
 of its scorn, for the name of the Lord Jesus. ^Moreover, 
 even before your brotherly love had solicited us to humble 
 ourselves with you, we had been led, of the Lord, to re- 
 member you before Him in tlie closest fellowship of prayer. 
 It was needful for us to unite with you in His gracious 
 presence, AVho, if He visits and judges His own House, 
 
 * I am sorry I cannot give it all. It is dated October 29, and addressed 
 *' to the Dutch Churches, suffering for the truth's sake." 
 
168 LIFE OF CyFSAB MALAN. 
 
 and tries the genuineness of onr faith in Him, does it only 
 out of the depth of His compassions, which lie at the root 
 of all His dealings, and who is afflicted in all the affliction 
 of His people. 
 
 " Undoubtedly, dear and honoured brethren, the path of 
 renunciation, of sacrifice, and of persecution, which you have 
 now for a long time been traversing, is hard to tread. To 
 be oppressed, to be spoiled of our goods, imprisoned, driven 
 from our home, esteemed as evil, denounced as accursed by 
 stern laws, is severe discipline. But what soul is there, 
 really taught by the Holy Spirit, that does not know that 
 it is at such a time that the Holy Son of God vouchsafes 
 His mighty consolation ? 
 
 " And even, beloved brethren, supposing that this were 
 not the case, that the Lord were to wait for another season 
 to comfort your hearts, it would never be for a long time 
 that you would have to endure the trial of your faith. 
 Were you in prosperity, your life would be what it always 
 is, short, swift, soon over. Passing it in affliction, you 
 pass it with the same Lord as then, and under the same 
 conditions ; in other words, as strangers and foreigners, as 
 pilgrims to the celestial country, to the Home whither 
 Jesus has preceded you, and where He will receive you to 
 His glorious repose. 
 
 " To Him, then, we would have each of you cling through 
 this painful struggle. It is easy, beloved, when we are 
 engaged in a fight — even in the good and holy fight of 
 faith — and when we are called upon to contend earnestly 
 for the sacred depository of truth, it is only too easy then 
 to deceive ourselves, by taking the externals of belief for 
 faith itself, the honour of the Church for truth, Church 
 
LOVING COUNSEL, 169 
 
 principles for Jesus Himself. How many persons pro- 
 fess to follow the teacliing of the Word, and yet, at a 
 time when they ought to be exhibiting a firm consistency, 
 become estranged from the heart of Jesus, and forget, even 
 outrage, the spirit of love, while they are displaying at the 
 same time the most devoted zeal, and submitting to the 
 most costly sacrifices ! What an injury it is to the good 
 work of faith when the children of God commit the fatal 
 error of putting their Church in the place of the spouse of 
 Jesus ; and fidelity to it, for that obedience which faith owes 
 to the Kim:^ of Zion. 
 
 " Be on your guard, then, dear and honoured brethren, 
 and cherish, as your deepest and most abiding feeling, a 
 lumible desire to follow Jesus, and to exalt Him, and not 
 yourselves, in your Churches. 
 
 "Alas, beloved brethren, it is because we ourselves at 
 Geneva, and others in other parts of Switzerland, have 
 sinned a sin still in this respect, that we speak thus. 
 Let the sword of persecution be in the hands of the world, 
 never of the brethren. Never let differences of views or 
 opinions in what does not appertain to Christ Himself, 
 separate the members of His Body. We have learnt that 
 this evil has reached you. Alas, if we, tlie children of 
 God, were more penetrated with a sense of the uns^^eakable 
 value of the Father's gift in His Son, earthly things would 
 cease to have any undue influence over us. 
 
 " Men of the world, and among them many children of 
 God, weak, and still under worldly influence, stand aloof 
 from you. They regard you as enemies of their Church, 
 and overbearing children. They despise you, they push you 
 from them, they visit you with ignominious treatment ! 
 
170 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 Well, be it so ! Tliey will yet be compelled to admit, that if 
 you are firm in your faitli and in tlie public profession you 
 are justified in making, you are not the less distinguished 
 for the charity which unites you in Jesus, the Eang of your 
 souls, for your compassion for your persecutors, as well as 
 for your meek submission under their iniquitous proceed- 
 ings, which affect not merely yourselves as Christians, but 
 even the very Christ of God. 
 
 " May the Lord Jesus see us walking in the light of His 
 countenance, apart from the darkness of this wicked world, 
 on the narrow path where His footsteps may be traced. 
 It matters little whether we are honoured, welcomed, ap- 
 proved, or upheld even, by our brethren ; but it matters 
 much whether we are holy and blameless, and whether the 
 light of our faith, love, and patience, burns uninterruptedly 
 before the eyes of our fellow-men, and whether thus, in 
 Holland, Switzerland, or elsewhere, those who know the 
 Lord and rejoice in the light of His countenance, show 
 forth by their steadfast and holy conversation the glories of 
 Him AVho has loved them in Christ Jesus with an ever- 
 lastincr love." 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 GENERAL SURVEY OF THE YEAES 1820-1830. 
 
 Mine be the reverend, listening love, 
 
 That waits all day on Thee, 
 With the service of a watchful heart, 
 
 Which no one else can see. 
 The faith that, in a hidden way 
 
 No other eye may know, 
 Finds all its daily work prepared, 
 
 And loves to have it so. 
 
 Ix the previous chapter, we traced out Malan's pastoral 
 work as far as 1830. We will now retrace our steps for 
 the purpose of taking a general view of his exertions 
 during that period, besides his pastoral duties. As the 
 narrative of his missionary efforts is to be reserved for the 
 period when he was led to devote himself more especially 
 to them, our present review will be chiefly directed to his 
 literary labours. 
 
 As we have already seen, before his conversion he 
 l)ublished only two class text-books of no great importance. 
 When, however, he found himself debarred from preaching, 
 he felt all the stirrings of that desire to propagate the 
 truth, which is so universal in the hearts of living Chris- 
 tians. From that time, he sought means to reach by his 
 ])en those whom he was not suffered to address from the 
 pulpit. Already in 1814, when what he himself calls the 
 
172 LIFE OF CMSAPv MALAN. 
 
 first cla^Yiiings of tlie triitli were breaking ia upon his soul, 
 he had translated some English tracts, and shortly after- 
 wards, he presented his pupils with " The Old Man of Ella- 
 combe," a little book which M. Guers had just rendered in 
 French, from the same language. 
 
 It was not till 1819 that he issued his three first tracts, 
 which AA^ere almost immediately translated into English, 
 German, and Italian. Tliese were, " Germain the Wood- 
 cutter," " The Two Old Men," and " The Young Plaster 
 Eigure Vendors." From that time, up to 1830, new works 
 issued from his pen ; among which were some of the best 
 he ever produced. To mention only a few : In 1821 ap- 
 peared " The Poor Watchmaker of Geneva," and " La 
 Valaisanne;" in 1823, "The Truly Catholic Protestant;" 
 in 1825, "The Conversion of the Atheist;" in 1827, "The 
 iS^ew Bartimaeus;" in 1829, " The Good Bargain." 
 
 These little publications made a sensation. In 1820, 
 an old magistrate of Geneva, M. Pocca, said, in an " Ad- 
 dress to the Genevese," in reference to the " Poor Watch- 
 maker " and " La Valaisanne : " " These two works are 
 masterpieces of feeling, and often of good sense as well. 
 Every line, every word is inspired by the love of virtue 
 and of honest toil. They show their author to be a hero 
 in goodness, and the champion of the weak." As a proof 
 of the state of feeling in Geneva at that time, we may 
 mention that this same authority, a few weeks after, was 
 obliged to publish "Eclaircissements" of his previous address. 
 While he continues to recommend the perusal of the works 
 he had praised, he protests against the idea that he himself 
 was a visionary, a '* ]\I6mier," or a partisan of INIalan, in re- 
 spect of his religious views. His address, he says, had been 
 
DEFECTS OF STYLE. 173 
 
 dictated simply by his indignation at the way in which 
 such a man had been publicly treated. It was but the ex- 
 pression of a warm feeling in favour of justice and fairness. 
 
 Particular notices of his productions I reserve for the 
 period of their issue. At present it may be as well to form 
 a general estimate of his powers as a religious writer. 
 
 Without referring to his sacred songs and school hyr^ L, 
 which have been permanently accepted in our rf Aches 
 and families, it may be stated that his numeroij^, prose 
 works abound with pleasant pages of truthful, frQ|^i, and 
 animated writinc*'. At the same time, he was scarcely so 
 eloquent with his pen as he was in the pulpit, or in 
 general conversation. 
 
 That force of conviction which was for ever arresting 
 liis hearers with fresh energy, and at times all but over- 
 powering them with a strange vigour, showed itself in his 
 writings rather in his close' m>tho(J of reasoning, or in 
 the persistency with which he ahx/ms and re-affirms the 
 thought he desires to express, than in that liidden power 
 of persuasion, which allures and enthrals a reader's atten- 
 tion. Thus, only to instance his tracts, which first gained 
 liim notoriety ; in many of them a prolonged elaboration, 
 combined with purely abstract reasoning, following close 
 upon some terse recital, betrays the preacher. The reader 
 is subdued, it is true, and lays down the book in silence. 
 But he is not unfrequently compelled to wonder why, 
 after all, he is not convinced. 
 
 The apostle of a faith, as clear as it is earnest, ^lalan's 
 writings bear emphatic testimony as to what his soul 
 believes, though, at the same time, he has a dilUculty in 
 quitting his personal eXjL-d-^'ice to investigate that of 
 
174 LIFE OF CjFSAB 31 ALAN. 
 
 others. Those who share his convictions will be urged on 
 with him to embrace all the results to which they lead. 
 Those who do not, however genuine his emotion may 
 appear, will probably find it unintelligible. Hence, 
 it will be understood that he has been charged with 
 monotony, and, occasionally, in his attempted expositions 
 of the faith, with a measure of prolixity; yet, for all 
 that, he has succeeded in compelling men to read his 
 writings. More than that, many of his pages will never fail 
 to arrest and fascinate from the powerful ever-present sin- 
 cerity of a conviction full of force, freshness, and vigour.* 
 
 His style is most successful in the conversational parts, 
 in his narrative, and in the striking and pointed expressions 
 wdiich constantly fall from his pen. His writings abound 
 in passages which merit perpetuity, if on this ground only, 
 and of which a useful and attractive collection might 
 easily be made. 
 
 He wrote often, and with great ease and despatch. His 
 sermons and religious tracts procured him fame, which 
 
 * The following extract from a letter to a lady, written before 1819, vnU. 
 give an idea of his deep love of nature at this period of his life : — 
 
 " There are times and seasons when the soul appears to delight in sweet 
 and mysterious longings. It seems as if it had lost half of its life, and 
 had no interest left but for what could pine and complain along •s\dth itself. 
 In such days, it likes to linger in the loneliness and profound silence of 
 the country. The light wind which stirs the dried-up foliage of groves and 
 hedges ; the mists slowly rising from the marshes or rivers, and gliding, in 
 fantastic shapes, between the woods or the hills ; the smoke of the village 
 settlinf down on the fields, through whose haze may be discerned the hay- 
 stacks or roofs of stubble-covered cottages ; the distant, and, as it were, 
 muffled tones of the bells, or the vanishing tints of the mountains already 
 half covered with sleet and snow — all that external world still lovely in its 
 decay, as it appears, when the Lord bids the sun to weaken the power of 
 his rays — seizes, absorbs the soul, and aAvakens in us a kindred sympathy, 
 an intimate and mysterious responsive note of stillness and sadness." 
 
JFAYSIDE GLEANINGS. 175 
 
 was not diminislied "by liis essays as a controversialist, and 
 his publications dictated by passing events. As to the 
 first, we have already noticed them. His controversies 
 will be referred to by and by. With regard to his tracts, 
 their chief merit lies in a happy delineation of character 
 and manners, and in tlie charming anecdotes on which 
 they are based. Quick and accurate in his notice of pass- 
 ing things, he would not unfrequently return from a walk 
 bringing with him, out of some occurrence he had noticed, 
 or a chance conversation in the street, a word, a touch of 
 character, a prompt reply, wliich he immediately noted 
 down, quoting the results to us afterwards with the com- 
 ment, " Here is a tract to write." Especially in his ^mtings 
 for cliildren he abounds in these happy illustrations, secured 
 at the moment they happened, sometimes in his own 
 family circle. We may recognise here the painter's art of 
 comprehending a scene at a glance, exemplified in that 
 faculty of truthful and rapid apprehension no less required 
 in accurate delineation of character. 
 
 With all his earnestness of thought, rather in conse- 
 quence of that earnestness, of the thirst for truth and 
 symmetry which inspired him, he had a quick perception of 
 incongruities, and consequently a keen sense of the ridi- 
 culous. But not only was everything personal utterly 
 repugnant to the habitual loftiness of his mind, but his 
 thorough lovingness of spirit made it additionally ii'K pos- 
 sible for him to use this faculty by way of sarcastic or 
 jesting retaliation. It was only employed in furnishing 
 a picturesque style of writing which deepened the impres- 
 sion of any word, trait, or gesture wliich he recorded. 
 
 In his pamphlets called forth by passing events, in 
 
176 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAN. 
 
 which he rapidly recorded his convictions occasioned by 
 any occurrence demanding, as he thought, testimony to the 
 faith in the presence of the multitude, he knew and ]Drac- 
 tised the wisdom of a concise, grave, and conclusive style. 
 If in this class of writing he failed to rival the incisive 
 fervour of others of his brethren, he never forgot the dignity 
 that declines, be the provocation what it may, to descend 
 to open personalities, or even to veiled insinuations. 
 
 On reading several of his tracts over again, after many 
 years, and with reference to the present publication, I 
 could not but be vividly impressed with their power. 
 Writings like Germain the Woodcutter, the opening 
 portion of La Valaisanne, the beautiful story of the Con- 
 verted Atheist, various passages in the Poor Clockmaker of 
 Geneva, or in the Truly Catholic Protestant, not to mention 
 others, deserve an extended circulation. Their simplicity 
 and truth of feeling must for ever enrol them among the 
 standard classical specimens of this department of sacred 
 literature. 
 
 What especially distinguishes his earlier writings is that 
 joyous hopeful trustfulness which we have already had 
 occasion to notice in his " Conventicule de Ptolle." Look- 
 ing at the clerical opposition he had encountered, as a 
 solitary instance of intolerance on the part of a particular 
 association of teachers, he gives free vent to his benevolent 
 and loving spirit towards the population itself (the mass 
 of the people.) He declares that the evil seems to him to 
 be already sensibly diminished. " Indeed," he adds, " an 
 observing and judicious population cannot persevere in a 
 course of unjust attacks. " Better natures insensibly recoil 
 from them, and persuade Ihe others. Passions calm 
 
LITERARY EFFORTS, 177 
 
 down ; groundless animosity becomes wearisome, and the 
 best way of anticipating this happy climax is to persist in 
 loving those who still feel it their duty to hold back, 
 many of them on conscientious grounds, wliich, if it be a 
 mistake, it is no disgrace to adhere to. I feel that we are 
 on the eve of better days, and I rejoice at the prospect 
 of regenerated Geneva." 
 
 And what he wrote he felt, as appears from his letters 
 to my mother during his occasional absence from home. 
 Subsequent experience of many years taught him, not 
 indeed to relinquish hopes dictated to him by his trust in 
 God, but to content himself with their slow and partial 
 realisation. 
 
 His first works exhibit him rather in the lio-ht of a con- 
 fessor than a teacher. We still find in them more a 
 testimony given to the divine facts of salvation, than, as 
 was the case afterwards, what seemed to aim at being an 
 explanation of the reasons and motives of these facts. 
 By and by, as the succeeding incidents in the struggle 
 led him to examine more carefully into the grounds of his 
 creed, a systematic analysis of them found a place in his 
 writings. This new feature in their contents was dis- 
 played, for example, in "The Eldest Son," 1825; while, in 
 1826, he ap]Dlied himself to a vindication of it in the tract 
 entitled, " Add to Your Faith, Knowledge." 
 
 At the same time, as we shall see, when wa come to 
 touch upon his Eoman controversy, he never suflered his 
 dogmatic teaching to degenerate into bigotry, or wliat 
 might have been deservedly termed the fanaticism of party 
 spirit. 
 
 I may mention, further, among his tracts published 
 
 M 
 
178 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 before 1830, "The Half-penny AYell Employed; or, Tlie 
 Duty of Contributing to the Work of Foreign Missions ;" 
 "Home Missions," in which, in advance of his age, he 
 pleads for those home efforts to which he Avas daily 
 devoted; "The Dead Burying their Dead;" "The Heathen 
 at our Door," delineating under various aspects the Geneva 
 of that day; "Corn Gathered on the Highway;" and, 
 "What God Keeps is Well Kept:" all narratives of inci- 
 dents which had occurred under his eye, or conversations 
 in which he had been engaged, together with " The Blind 
 Bartimaeus," a familiar exposition of the way of salvation. 
 
 But his literary efforts did not stop here. At this time 
 also he produced his " True Friend of the Young," besides 
 many doctrinal works. AboA^e all, not to mention occa- 
 sional publications, the fruit of passing events, it was 
 then that he produced his hymns, with appropriate tunes, 
 and a versification of the first fifty Psalms. 
 
 Before speaking of his hymns, well known in the pre- 
 sent day as " Songs of Zion," it may be remarked that it 
 is difficult to form any idea of the literary activity thus 
 displayed, and of the place it occupied in our happy home 
 life. His tracts spread by thousands, his occasional 
 pamphlets were read with avidity, his hymns were every- 
 where sung by Christian congregations, whether of the 
 dissenting communities in Geneva, or especially abroad. 
 Surrounded as he was by a numerous family, this period 
 of his life was passed in overflowing health and energy. 
 We, his children, were enlisted in the technical department 
 of his work. Some of these numerous editions were folded 
 under his own roof. He had devised and constructed a 
 small machine which considerably abridged the work, and 
 
A LABOUR OF LOVE. 179 
 
 it was a high day for us when tutor and governess an- 
 nounced that books were to be thrown aside, and the 
 eating-room was converted into a merry workshop. 
 
 Whilst we were busy at our toil, some one would read a 
 fresh page or two, or relate how the new tract had been 
 received here or there, or its contents would be discussed, 
 my father all the while present, everywhere encouraging 
 us in our work, the very soul of animation, good humour, 
 and cheerfulness. Young friends and colporteurs came to 
 fetch away the scarcely bound tracts, distributing them in 
 every direction. ]\Iy brothers and I helped him in making 
 up large packages, to be forwarded to various quarters. 
 Occasionally our task was suspended when strangers called, 
 or when one of my sisters went into an adjoining room to 
 play over some hymn which our father had jnst composed, 
 and to which we were anxious to listen. 
 
 In this way my father was enabled, by his own exertions 
 and the practice of strict economy, to defray the cost of 
 publishing his numerous works. Afterwards, friends con- 
 tributed for this special object. I have before me an 
 account-book, from November 1843 to September 1863, 
 on tl\e first page of which I find the following inscription, 
 in his handwritino- : — 
 
 o 
 
 ''Tracts. — T have been occupied with this work since 
 1819, and have spent a considerable sum out of my own 
 pocket; but, since 1840, finding I was unable to bear the 
 sole expenses any longer, I applied for assistance in various 
 quarters. Having visited in England, in 1843, and received 
 £50 to promote this undertaking, I have determined to 
 keep an account both of money subscribed and tracts dis- 
 tributed." 
 
180 LIFE OF CJESAB MALAN. 
 
 A catalogue of liis productions, as complete as I could 
 make it, Avill show tliat their numbers increased the older he 
 grew.* As his physical strength diminished, he sought 
 solace in his pen ; and it is but fair to add, that the weak- 
 ness of advancing age never betrayed itself in his pages. He 
 left also numerous MSS. behind him, together with many 
 hundred hymns ready for publication ; which brmgs me to 
 make a fcAv remarks on his attempts in the field of sacred 
 poetry. 
 
 He inherited from his father a natural talent for versifi- 
 cation. His young man's note-books are full of " essays in 
 versification;" and he had an invariable partiality for 
 expressing, in either French or Latin impromptu verses, 
 some passing thought to which he wished to give special 
 emphasis. 
 
 This gift, like every other, he enlisted in the service of 
 the faith. Postponing further reference to his hymns, I 
 would add that he issued, from time to time, sacred poems, 
 graceful and musical in their flow, and containing many 
 happily turned stanzas. In 1824, " The Blind Eeceives his 
 Sight;" in 1826, "A Letter to our Young Poet," addressed 
 to a relation of his, " Imbert Galloix," probably the best of 
 its kind. One verse will be sufficient as a specimen : — 
 
 All, look around .... 
 
 See God's high gifts — His holy day, — ' 
 
 In ribald laughter jeered away ; ' 
 
 "While His redeemed, by sufferings pressed, 
 
 Learn that the world is not their rest. 
 
 In 1830 appeared his "Hymn on Peace," in which, in 
 nearly nine hundred Alexandrines, he endeavours to set 
 
 * Added to the original work " La Vie de Malan," &c. — Note ly Trans- ., 
 lator. ■ 
 
" upox THE iLinr will i praise thee:' isi 
 
 before an old fellow- student tlie grounds of the assurance 
 and repose which he had derived from the faith. In the 
 following passage, he treats of its nature and the founda- 
 tion on which it rests : — 
 
 " The undying germ of truth divine, 
 
 From heaven it comes, He makes it thine ; 
 While faith the treasured seed applies, 
 And makes a bliss that never dies. 
 Seek not her characters to read 
 In toil-worn phrase of borrowed creed ; 
 His most who best by rote can learn. 
 If once the sire's, the son's in turn — 
 
 So trustful youth, to kiss or blow 
 A strange indifference will show, 
 And, guided by a teacher's nod. 
 Bow down to Baal, or to God." : 
 
 Another example may be quoted : — 
 
 " Christians in name, but citizens of earth, 
 Of lifeless graces take the righteous worth. 
 Ye can't offend who every wrong excuse. 
 Dread honest speech, and to condemn refuse. 
 Who blend the Bible with the wild romance. 
 Or vary solemn prayers mth games of chance ; 
 Who, by a secret strange, to heaven unknown. 
 License to sin relieve with grace t' atone ; 
 Homage to faith at idols' shrines afford, 
 And in the gilded play-house serve the Lord." 
 
 In 1846, he published "Virtue and Grace," witli a in^e- 
 face, in which, in connection with principles of literature, 
 he shows how far lie was under the influence of that essen- 
 tially theocratic idea which expects to realise, in domestic 
 education and national life, the highest principles of the 
 gospel. 
 
 At this time, at the age of sixty, he addressed the follow- 
 ing to a fellow-citizen, a well-known poet : — 
 
182 LIFE OF C^SAR MA LAN. 
 
 " Hoar are our locks, our footsteps frail, 
 With tottering gait, and limbs that fail. 
 Through all our frame we hear the sigh ; 
 ' Child of the dust, 'tis thine to die ! ' 
 
 " How often, still, on yonder height, 
 Shall we behold the blushing light ; 
 Or there, when evening whispers peace, 
 Wander in sweet forgetfulness. 
 
 '' Ah, think, eternity is near, 
 
 With thoughts of bliss, or thoughts of fear ; 
 Be ours to choose, while erst we may, 
 For endless life an endless day." 
 
 Thanks to tlie subject of these verses, — the characteristic 
 defect of all didactic poetry betrays itself here in a special 
 manner. In order thoroughly to appreciate its charms, and 
 enter into its spirit, we ought first to be imbued with those 
 particular impressions which its stately and somewhat 
 elaborate numbers are designed to communicate. Hence, 
 in spite of the occurrence, here and there, of pleasing pas- 
 sages, and notwithstanding all the care and toil which 
 their author has bestowed on them, his poems of this class 
 have never found readers. Unquestionably, his chastened 
 style and graceful versification found better scope in lyrical 
 than in didactic poems on his one favourite subject — living 
 faith. And be it remembered that faith never takes us by 
 surprise. Its morning entrance into the soul succeeds the 
 night of struggle ; while the hearts that it has conquered 
 it awakes from silence, and kindles into praise. 
 
 My father's reputation as a Christian poet will always 
 rest upon his hynms. To this effect is the testimony in a 
 well-known religious journal of the time, "Le Semeur," 
 published in Paris (August 1837), given at the close of an 
 article on Hymnology in France. 
 
A REASONABLE REMONSTRANCE. 183 
 
 " Among ourselves, with the revival of faith has come tlie 
 revival of its song ; and that, too, after a silence of more 
 than a hundred years. God has taught His servants to per- 
 petuate the language of His praise, and has given them 
 new hymns through the instrumentality of this truly 
 Christian poet. M. Malan has re-awakened the lay. His 
 hymns belong already to history, because they have inter- 
 woven themselves, and, while the revival lasts, will inter- 
 weave themselves, with the joys and sorrows of the 
 Church." 
 
 These words have been realised. These hymns are now 
 being sung even in the ^Rational Church of Geneva. To 
 this testimony it would be superfluous in me to add a 
 word of my own in praise of those sacred lyrics which 
 greeted me as an infant, and conveyed to me, in my early 
 years, my first impressions of Christian truth. They have 
 roused the warmest enthusiasm in Albert Knapp, the 
 popular religious poet of Germany ; and more than once I 
 have heard German musicians, and those of other coun- 
 tries, expressing cordial admiration of the melodies attached 
 to them. Nor can I help observing how painfid. it is to 
 those Avho have become lovingly familiar with them, to 
 hear them attributed to other authors, or, worse still, to 
 find them abridged, and even spoilt, by unskilful correc- 
 tions ; to hear them sung at times to strange tunes, or even 
 to airs not in the least recalling those to which they were 
 originally set. I may be permitted, also, to add, witli 
 reluctance, that these observations apply to the restricted 
 use made of them by the Established Churches of Geneva, 
 Vaud, and Neufchatel, for their new psalters ; though 
 persons who have hailed with delight the aiuival of better 
 
184 LIFE OF CyFSAR MILAN. 
 
 days ill their official return to hymns, the nse of which was 
 dear to them from habit, will see nndoubtedly in this new 
 move a hopeful augury for the future. 
 
 It was in 1823 that he published his first hymns, 
 though he made an attempt in that direction in 1821. 
 At first he merely intended them for the use of families, 
 as might be gathered from the title-page, " Sacred Songs 
 for Family Worship." The earliest edition contained only 
 thirty-five. To these, however, sixty more were soon 
 added in a second issue, with the music arranged for two 
 or three voices by one of his friends, ]\I. Wolff Hanlock, 
 professor of music in Geneva. 
 
 In 1824 he sent out, also with tunes attached, the first 
 edition of a metrical version of the Psalms, reaching to 
 the 50th, under the title, "Songs of Zion," or ''Bible 
 Psalms, Hymns, and Canticles." This publication, whicli 
 we shall have occasion to notice by and by, not meeting 
 with a favourable reception, he devoted himself entirely 
 to his hymns, of which he now issued a hundred under the 
 title of '' Songs of Zion." The edition of 1828 comprised 
 two hundred already; that of 1832, two hundred and 
 thirty- four ; that of 1836, three hundred; that total was 
 never exceeded. The last issue was in 1855. 
 
 These hymns were composed at particular periods in 
 his own history. After having laid aside his pen for a 
 considerable time, he would suddenly resume his poetical 
 efforts, as a rule when he was resting from some protracted 
 work. He wrote them thus on the spur of the moment ; 
 not unfrequently when he was walking, or away on a 
 journey. 
 
 Appended to some of them, at the time they were jotted 
 
HISTORY OF HIS HYMNS. 185 
 
 down, are notes of the places or circumstances that sug- 
 gested or inspired them. Many of them were considerably 
 altered, in subsequent editions ; latterly, not always for the 
 better. Some, however, more especially the best, have 
 remained as they were ; above all, such as were composed 
 off-hand. 
 
 So accustomed was he to versify his thoughts, that 
 many a time, when some home incident, intercourse with 
 friends, or an interesting visit from a stranger, had inspired 
 him, he would \vi'ite an appropriate hymn, and send it 
 with suitable music to the person who had unconsciously 
 suggested it. Thus our several baptisms and first com- 
 munions, our return home after absence, our respective 
 birth-days, any departures, births or deaths, in which he 
 might happen to be interested, would furnish subjects for 
 this pleasing method of commemoration. He never set 
 any of his hymns to a strange tune. I do not think he 
 could have done so. 
 
 He frequently lithographed them himself, adding a 
 sketch, of his own, of the place wdiere they had been 
 penned, or some other suggestive design in harmony with 
 the subject of w^hich they treated. Many of these fugitive 
 pieces are now in my possession, written either for 
 schools, or without any special object. 
 
 As regards the tunes, though he played the violin and 
 flute when he was a boy, and accompanied himself on the 
 organ, he did not possess any very great musical know- 
 ledge or skill as a performer. As a proof of tliis, it may 
 be stated that though the melodies suggested themselves 
 to him so vividly, that on several occasions, for example, 
 he could not sleep till he had noted down an air then 
 
186 LIFE OF C^SJB MALAN. 
 
 in his thoughts, he liad some difficulty in rendering them 
 on paper. 
 
 As a rule, he was obliged, before completing a tune, to 
 read on a musical instrument the note that he heard dis- 
 tinctly in his mind. For this purpose he generally 
 carried about with him a box containing an octave of steel 
 plates. Thus, in the event of an air occurring to him 
 during his walk, he would adjust the instrument in com- 
 munication with his ear by means of his stick, holding it 
 in his left hand, — and, touching the keys with the right, 
 set down the notes as soon as he had ascertained them. 
 
 The melody once on paper he would play it himself, or 
 get one of my sisters to play it for him, listening to our 
 criticisms, inviting and receiving them (above all, when 
 they were undeniably true) with a certain inexpressible 
 smile of good humour, which those who witnessed it can 
 never forget 
 
 When he was in the vein, the airs, as well as the words, 
 occurred to him together. One day the kettle on the 
 hob gave him the introductory notes of one of the best 
 known of his musical settings. He had frequently said 
 that each air w^as contained, in his conception of it, in its 
 opening bars. A friend, to whom I related this, men- 
 tioned that, happening on one occasion to meet my father 
 on the road, a few years before his death, the latter read 
 him some verses which he had just composed, adding that 
 the melody, which he intended to put to them, had been 
 suggested to him by the sound made by an imperfectly 
 oiled cart-wheel, which had that moment reached his ear. 
 
 I give these details, however puerile they may appear to 
 be, under the impression that not only the members of my 
 
RESTING AWHILE, 187 
 
 family, but all to whom the " Songs of Zioii " have been old 
 friends, will read them with interest. One association, 
 however, connected with these hymns had a prominent 
 place in my father's most cherished recollections. 
 
 It was in 1827, a year the spring of which had involved 
 him in endless anxiety and fatigue; he was so upset, indeed, 
 that his medical adviser insisted on his taking a thorough 
 rest. On the strength of this order, he left Geneva for a 
 village in the northern part of the Jura range, then for 
 Fraubrunnen, near Bern, to avoid fatio^ue. It must be 
 remembered that at that time he did not speak German. 
 
 During his three weeks' absence, he composed a great 
 part of his " Hymn of Peace," several detached pieces of 
 poetry, and a considerable number of his best spiritual 
 songs. Let it be recollected that all these were pub- 
 lished afterwards without revise, that to many of them 
 a melody was attached at the time of their composition, 
 that the man who did this was on the invalid shelf, — and 
 the fertility of his life and the power of his thought will in 
 a measure be realised. 
 
 In this way, indeed, my father always took his holi- 
 day, up to the very end. In proportion as his strength 
 diminished, in proportion as he lost his interest in mere 
 passing events, this special work, serving as it did to 
 elevate his soul, became his supreme delight and his chief 
 recreation. In the concluding year of his life, indeed, it 
 proved the most effectual antidote to the weariness and 
 weakness by which he was visited. 
 
 Before 1830, his house was full of juvenile boarders, 
 generally Englisli. Their age, as a rule, varied from 
 eighteen to twenty. The object of those who entrusted 
 
188 LIFE OF CjFSAR 31 A LA K 
 
 tliem to his care was to secure for them his influence and 
 guidance, as well as to forward them in a knowledge of 
 Trench. He devoted himself entirely to their interests, and 
 many of them dated their conversion to their residence with 
 him. That good man, Charles de Eodt, whose memory is 
 so precious, decided on the ministry when he was living 
 under his roof. 
 
 So it was with John Adams, who left Geneva to devote 
 himself to foreim missions. I have several of his letters 
 
 o 
 
 in my possession, indicating the feeling with which he, in 
 common with many others, looked back upon those early 
 days. Only to instance Adams, wdiose life has been 
 published : — the letter of the well-known missionary 
 Lacroix to my father, dated the 23d April 1831, announces 
 his premature death in the following terms : "My 
 brother, — the London missionaries in Bengal have com- 
 missioned me to communicate to you the departure of your 
 old pupil and son in the faith, John Adams. He died on 
 the 21st, after a very short illness, brought on chiefly by 
 over-exposure to the burning Indian sun, while he was 
 fulfilling his work as a minister of the gospel. His mis- 
 sionary career was short-lived, but not so will be the traces 
 of his labours, nor do I doubt that the great day of judg- 
 ment will show that he has not toiled in vain. In every 
 possible quarter, — in the market, at the great places of con- 
 course, by the highway, in villages and hamlets, — you might 
 have found him distributing tracts and speaking the word 
 of life. His zeal for the glory of God and the good of 
 man, his love for his brethren and for all the children of 
 God, his firmness of character, his spotless life, his tho- 
 roughly Christian spirit, secured universal esteem. AVe 
 
LOFE OF TEE YOUNG, 189 
 
 lament his death as one of the greatest disasters experi- 
 enced by our mission since its formation in Bengal. jMay 
 I but secure a place near him," writes this man of God^ 
 now also in the presence of his Master, " when it shall 
 please the Lord to call me hence ! His grateful remem- 
 brance of you, my dear sir, of your anxious care, above all 
 of the blessing you were the means of conveying to his soid, 
 knew no bounds. He often spoke of you, and never with- 
 out enthusiastic declaration of the love and reverence he 
 experienced towards you; even in his delirium, I heard him 
 speak of j\I. ]Malan with peculiar delight." 
 
 An illustration this, among many, of my father's life- 
 hold on the young men under his care. He looked upon 
 them as his own children ; and by many of them who will 
 possibly read these pages his memory will be cherished as 
 that of their father in the faith. 
 
 But, besides his boarders, his catechumens occupied no 
 small share of his attention. He prepared each of the 
 lessons he gave them, assigning them the chief parts of the 
 day's teaching, marked with Scripture proofs on cards 
 lithogTaphed by himself. He had been from an early age 
 accustomed to teach ; hence his predisposition, throughout 
 his whole life, to devote himself to the young, and to inte- 
 rest himself warndy in their welfare. The very day of 
 the opening of his chapel the institution of schools was 
 devised, where children might receive at once the rudi- 
 ments of a sound education, and the elements of a reli- 
 gious training. In the midst of the conflicting emotions 
 which that event occasioned, my mother felt strongly the 
 necessity of adding the erection of sc1io(jIs to tlie original 
 design, and spoke of it to my father as they left the chapel. 
 
190 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 He at once assigned a place for the purpose, and tlie 
 scliool commenced with seventy or eighty little girls. 
 Great exertions were made to provide a mistress. Eemain- 
 ing in the place where it was first established till 1864, 
 and maintained from month to month, and week to week, 
 by voluntary contributions procured through my mother's 
 exertions, it still continues, — ruled by the same principles 
 on which it had been founded in 1821, and universally 
 regarded as a model establishment of its kind. 
 
 Its foundress, wdien at length her great age precluded 
 her from taking any active part in its work, was gladdened 
 by witnessing a continual accession of new supporters and 
 protectors of its interests. After the chapel was pulled 
 down in 1864, the school was necessarily removed from 
 the apartment where it had .been originally commenced, and 
 has recently been settled in a building erected for the pur- 
 pose by an old friend of my father's, whose fame is in all 
 the Churches, M. de Laharpe, Professor in the Free School 
 of Theology in Geneva. My father used to visit it from 
 time to time, and never failed to preside at its annual 
 feast. 
 
 Some years afterwards he endeavoured to start another 
 for boys, on a similar model ; but it did not continue for 
 more than three or four years. About 1828 he turned his 
 attention to an infant school founded by a Dutch lady in 
 his congTegation ; nor did he confine himself to efforts like 
 these. Scarcely had he set on foot these movements of 
 which we have just spoken, than he endeavoured, in 1829, 
 to form a superior institution for the education of young 
 women. This enterprise he zealously followed up for 
 eighteen months, when the death of the directress, and the 
 
INFANT BAPTISM. 1 1 
 
 loss of some of tlie most lielpful members of liis congrega- 
 tion, compelled him to abandon it. 
 
 His affection for the young showed itself in his writings, 
 from the very first. Besides the little catechisms, men- 
 tioned already, he published in 1824 his "Child's True 
 Friend," to supersede Berquin's work, almost the only one 
 at that time known to children. His object, as he himself 
 describes it, was to furnish them with a kind of literature 
 which might serve to amuse them, while at the same time 
 it set before them somethino' hioher than mere human 
 excellence. 
 
 This work (translated into English forthwith, — the last 
 edition of it, in four volumes, appearing in 1850) — is 
 a collection of minor pieces, chiefly narrative, setting 
 forth some leading moral principle, or truth of doctrine. 
 They have been found fault with, indeed, as being too 
 dogmatical, yet there are many families in which these 
 books are still welcome friends ; and, if I may qnote my 
 own feeling in reference to them, and that of many others, 
 it must be a matter of regret that they should remain 
 unknown. 
 
 "With such a love of children, as an instinct of his heart, 
 it is not to be wondered at that he should have espoused 
 so zealously the cause of infant baptism. In 1823, at the 
 time wlien liis refusal to witlidraw himself voluntarily from 
 the Established Church placed him in a questionable and 
 altogether untenable position towards other communions, 
 with which he nevertheless greatly sympathised, the ques- 
 tion of baptism was started in the Church of tlic r>(iurg de 
 Four by English influence. Finding no counter argument 
 at first with which to meet their representations in fiivour 
 
192 LIFE OF CjFSAE MALAK 
 
 of what was to liim a new doctrine, my father was won 
 over by its absolute character, and declared himself con- 
 vinced. Once persuaded, that firmness of his in testifying 
 to what he believed to be true came out in its full force. 
 His advocacy of the new belief was ardent and emphatic. 
 He determined to be baptized afresh. 
 
 However, on his arrival at Secheron, at jMr Drummond's, 
 under whose auspices the ceremony was to take place, he 
 passed in review the various passages of Scripture with 
 which the doctrine- is generally supported. Suddenly he 
 was struck with the apostle's language to his converted 
 brethren, "Your children are holy." He immediately left 
 the room, sought retirement, and reopened the whole ques- 
 tion in private. 
 
 The result of his study was a volume of two hundred 
 pages, published in 1824: "God Ordains that Children in 
 the Church of Christ should be Consecrated to Him by the 
 Seal of Baptism." Eecapitulating the primitive arguments 
 in favour of the practice, he added the opinions of some of 
 the fathers, and then examined the passages of Scripture 
 urged by Baptists. The only trace of its authorship which 
 the book reveals, is its energetic maintenance of the theory 
 that as baptism, like circumcision, came direct from God, it 
 could not be said to require any human preparation before 
 it was administered ; that the only possible preparation 
 for it must emanate from sovereign grace, and be as acces- 
 sible to an infant as an adult. Furthermore, baptism with 
 water is but a sign, and the grace it confers a mere 
 summons to salvation. These opinions he vigorously 
 defended in 1835, in a publication entitled, "The Baptized 
 Family." 
 
TEE CHAMPION OF THE OPPBESSED. 193 
 
 The first of these ^vorks was refused by the bookseller, 
 on the plea that he himself Avas a Baptist. This may serve 
 to show how high, in those days, party spirit ran on that 
 question. 
 
 It will be generally remembered that, in 1824, a few of 
 the junior members of the clergy of the Canton de Vaud 
 began to hold meetings for worship out of regular hours, 
 and thus became subject to official persecution and popular 
 odium. At this crisis, my father did all in his power to 
 encourage his brethren, and render them personal help. 
 His house was open to refugees from amongst them ; to 
 many of their members he became personally attached; and, 
 not satisfied with appealing directly in their behalf to the 
 magistrates of their canton, he declared himself as their 
 cliampion, in his published " sermon." 
 
 This brief treatise, only thirty pages long, transports us 
 instantly to those forgotten days when, in their fervent 
 espousal and advocacy of the faith, " the sectaries," as they 
 were called, endured an open and often ferocious opposition. 
 Inspired by the remembrance of suffering such as befeU the 
 brothers Olivier and Juvet (the latter of whom, so said his 
 friends, fell a victim to their intensity) these pages 
 abound with traces of that anguish of soid with which 
 their author contemplated the evidence of a Christian 
 people's downfall, and the harbingers of divine judgment. 
 At the same time, they live with the thrill of anticipated 
 triumph for the faith, and deep-rooted conviction of the 
 reality of the eternal kingdom. The stirring incidents they 
 record, — in their least details full of interest, — combine 
 with the language in which they are written to render 
 them a precious monument of the time tliey describe. 
 
 N 
 
194 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 In this same year, wlien the general discussion of the 
 controversy between my father and the clerical party had 
 in a measure abated, a member of that body, M. Cheneviere, 
 Professor of Dogmatic Theology in the Academy of the 
 Establishment, issued his Precis of the theological debates 
 which had gone on for some years in Geneva, causing a 
 translation of it to be inserted in the " Monthly Piepository 
 of Theology and General Literature," at that time the 
 EngHsli organ of the Unitarian party. 
 
 On receiving this publication, in which he himself was 
 made the subject of personal attacks, my father wrote the 
 following letter to the author : — 
 
 " I remember, my dear Cheneviere (for dear I must still 
 call you), that one of the last things you said to me, five or 
 six years ago, was that nothing could interrupt our entire 
 mutual unreserve, or render it possible for us to condemn or 
 abuse each other as enemies. I believe I have adhered to 
 this sentiment, and that no word of mine, whether written 
 or printed, has assailed either your person or character. 
 
 " Your last publication, however, has convinced me that 
 your feeling towards me differs widely from mine towards 
 you. As soon as I had read it, I formed a wish either to 
 see or write to you ; and, if I have suffered any delay to 
 interpose between my design and its execution, this has 
 simply arisen from a desire to rid myself as nmch as pos- 
 sible of all such unworthy inij)ulses, as attacks from with- 
 out are too apt to arouse in us." 
 
 Going on to assure him of his own anxiety to continue 
 unimpaired the interchange of private courtesies, he pro- 
 ceeds to say that, as a minister of Christ, he could no 
 longer maintain any relations with him. " I am compelled 
 
DEPRECATES FEBSOXALITIES. 195 
 
 to draw a distinction between my old friend and tlio theo- 
 logical teacher. In this last cajjacity I cannot hold any 
 intercourse with you, nor even acknowledge you. In tlio 
 first, I turn to you with aU my heart, and with the word 
 on my lips, ' If I have spoken or done evil, bear witness 
 of the evil ; but if well, why smitest thou me ? ' That 
 your way of thinking in religious matters should have 
 disposed you to see error in the doctrine I hold as abso- 
 lutely true, in no way surprises me ; that you should have 
 written in contradiction of what you hold to be error, is 
 no more than fair. Thus you would have pro^'oked 
 inquiry and research, and have tended to throw light on 
 that truth which you and I profess to seek after, and to 
 value above all our own views and prejudices. 
 
 " But why attack me ? What connection can you find 
 between my humble individuality and the course I have 
 followed, whatever it has been or may be, and the verities 
 of Christian faith ? Why have you thus dragged me for- 
 ward, and stigmatised me with reproach ? Xo mere 
 injury of me can affect tJie truth I preach; and these 
 assaults, however justifiable they may have appeared 
 to you, and may be in themselves, can only draw from 
 him who experiences them the words of the psabnist : 
 ' The Lord hath said. Cursed be David ! who shall then 
 say. Wherefore hast thou done this ?' (2 Sam. xvi. 10.) 
 
 "What most pains me is your attack upon my .Master 
 Himself. That regret is deep and abiding. I have said 
 to many, and what I have said is true, ' If I could by the 
 entire sacrifice of that prosperity with Avhich you reproacli 
 me, and witli which God has blessed me hi cumiiKUi with 
 many other heads of similar institutions in Ceneva ; if, by 
 
196 LIFE OF CJ^SAR MALAN, 
 
 resigning this very day tlie whole of the worldly goods 
 which I enjoy here, I could bring you to a knowledge of 
 that truth which divine mercy has revealed to me, how 
 thankfully would I return to poverty for the attainment 
 of such an end ! Good would it be for me and mine to be 
 once more deprived of all we possessed, if by our poverty 
 you might be made spiritually rich. This is no mere idle 
 sentiment, Cheneviere, I earnestly assure you; no mere 
 gushing outburst of passing feeling, I know it is the 
 emotion of my heart, and of my wife's as well. Truly we 
 should bless God for such a dispensation. 
 
 " What I actually possess, my dear friend, I have won 
 by hard work." He then proceeds to detail to him the 
 ways and means by which his competence had been 
 attained. 
 
 " I have nothing to reply to your written attack by way 
 of detailed rejoinder. To do so Avould have been easy to 
 me, without assailing you personally, a thing I never do 
 in any case. I could easily have rectified certain errors of . 
 fact and inference set forth in your Precis, by reference ■■ 
 to a work I published last year, immediately after my • 
 official connection with the National Church had ceased, 
 under the title of ' Testimony to the Gospeh by a Minister 
 of Christ.' I know that, in the general judgment, that 
 publication would have cleared my personal character of . 
 all the reproaches you have addressed to me ; but I have i 
 been most unwilling to appear even to raise my voice 
 against you.* ^lany others will do this. I learn that a 
 
 * Tins "work, although it had been printed, was kept back from publica- ; 
 tion by my father, at the request of one of the magistrates, for the love of I 
 peace, and in order to avoid raising new distui'bances. Being rej)eatedly | 
 
TENDER FAITHFULNESS. 197 
 
 reply lias already been publislied iii England, and that its 
 tone is in thorough accordance with the lofty spirit which 
 has dictated it. You will have to be prepared for numerous 
 rebukes, and the general displeasure of many different 
 communions. The nature of your written sentiments is 
 such that, passing by all purely personal matter, it will 
 provoke against you and against the Church in A^'hich you 
 are an authorised theological teacher, a unanimity, not 
 indeed of attack, but of rejection on the part of all those 
 who reverence the Bible, and believe in the salvation 
 which is to be found alone in Jesus the Son of God. You 
 have, I learn, inflicted a terrible wound on the Church 
 you would fain defend. 
 
 "But there are more important considerations still in 
 reserve. The safety of your own soul, dear Cheneviere, is 
 a matter more intensely solemn, and demanding even 
 greater interest and anxiety. Had I but the right to 
 speak to you now, as I have spoken to you in times past, 
 I would tell you of my great desire to see you, to converse 
 with you, to explain to you in detail what your writing 
 proves you to be as yet unacquainted with — our principles 
 and conduct. Not that I have any wish to bring you to 
 think as I do, or to win you to my side, as a partisan ; I am 
 but governed by a consideration of the peace and life 
 which would flow into your soul through the knowledge 
 of Jesus as He is, against AYhom there may be found in 
 
 called upon to reply, however, after Cheneviere's attack, especially by 
 friends out of Geneva, he determined, not indeed to issue his work publicly, 
 but to communicate it to his friendf, as occasion required ; takinj,' care first 
 to make the magistrate acquainted with his reasons for so doing. 'Mj 
 mother tells me that this was the only occasion she could recall ou which 
 he displayed any hesitation as to the part he ought to take. 
 
198 LIFE OF CJESAF MALAA\ 
 
 your writings something aj^proacliing to positive blas- 
 phemy. 
 
 "What I intensely desire," he adds, "is that He Who 
 has called me by His grace to the knowledge of Himself, 
 would incline your heart to listen to and accept the good 
 tidings of that salvation which is ' from Him, by Him, and 
 for Him.'" 
 
 He concludes by assuring him, should anything in his 
 letter have given him pain, of the affection by which it 
 had b-een dictated. 
 
 In January 1826 came on for hearing the case of the 
 minister Bost. It was a great event in Geneva, not only 
 on account of the sensation likely to be produced by a 
 public debate in which the respective rights of the official 
 clergy and the press were to be discussed, but more par- 
 ticularly from the decision that followed the first trial, as 
 well as the final judgment of the supreme court of appeal. 
 Bost was acquitted of calumny against the Venerable 
 Assembly, while he was at the same time condemned for 
 various injurious expressions which he had made use of with 
 reference to them. Everybody understood the drift of this 
 sentence, that from that day forward, — certain forms and 
 proprieties being adhered to, — there was absolute liberty in 
 Geneva for the public discussion of the rights of the old 
 Protestant clergy. 
 
 My father, however, was in no way concerned in the 
 affair. The less so, as the lawsuit was prepared at a time 
 when Bost, (as he himself declares in his " Memoires,") was 
 in a position with reference to him which led him to believe 
 that he would not be prepared publicly to espouse his 
 cause. This, however, was not the case. Ignoring all 
 
ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 199 
 
 2-)ersonal considerations, he hastened to join tlie friends 
 ■who surrounded the accused, and, in concert with them, 
 he never quitted him till he had seen him safe out of the 
 reach of the mob who had followed him with hoot- 
 ings. He it was who made a sign to the guard to shut the 
 gates on the crowd, Avhilst Bost and his friends, (himself 
 among them,) escaped by a side gate. 
 
 In 1825, the Synod of the Secession Church of Scotland, 
 l)y a decree of the 1st of September, had enrolled Malan in 
 their body, after anxious and solemn deliberation, and after 
 having been convinced, on the personal testimony of many 
 of their members, as well as on good authority variously 
 collected, that his faith was sound, and that he attached 
 liimself to the Presbyterian form of Church government. 
 In February 1826 he received from the same assembly the 
 offer of pecuniary aid. In his reply, declining their liberal- 
 ity, he contented himself with expressing a desire for the 
 continuance of that brotherly union of which he said he 
 felt increasing; need, aloni:^ with an increasing' sense of his 
 isolated position with reference to the Church of Geneva. 
 
 My reason for mentioning this arises from the rumours 
 incessantly circulated in Geneva by the enemies of the 
 cause to which my father liad dedicated himself, explaining 
 his opposition as the result of a salary received from abroad 
 for tliat purpose. I shall have occasion to recur, (in tlie 
 record of the year 1843,) to these calumnies, — as gratuit(uis 
 as they were treacherous. 
 
 Though I purj)ose deferring to anotlier chapter the 
 account of liis missionary journeys, I cannot altogether 
 overlook, at this point, what he did that year in England 
 and Scotland. It was then that he found himself the 
 
200 LIFE OF C.FSAFo MALAN. 
 
 object of tliat overflowing, tliougli transient entliusiasm, so 
 frequently meted out to foreign guests in England, whose 
 career lias been in any way prominent ; more particularly 
 to sucli as liave exhibited those qualities of vigour and 
 independence in the discharge of duty, to which that great 
 nation so justly aw^ards the highest honour. My father, 
 however, was little able to adapt himself to the experience 
 of a religious public character in England, or the demands 
 it involved, nor yet to fall in with the frequent lionising 
 accompaniments of English " meetings." So far from 
 having " cleverly availed himself of his position to advance 
 his temporal interests," as was alleged by those who 
 ought to have had more self-respect than to bring such an 
 accusation against him, he rather neglected the advances 
 frequently made to him by men of high standing and 
 position. ISTot indeed under any motive arising from the 
 simple fact of their rank ; he w^as no radical, but a spirit- 
 ually-minded and dignified man, to whom any confusion 
 of temporal with eternal interests was eminently distaste- 
 ful. "While, as regards his English friends, he often chilled 
 them by the openness with which he criticised certain ways 
 which they deemed obvious and right. 
 
 After having been received in London, and introduced 
 to some friends by a nephew of Eobert Haldane, who had 
 stayed with him at Geneva some years before, he preached 
 in the metropolis before going to Scotland, where his pre- 
 sence attracted much observation, and where he made the 
 acquaintance of several eminent men. On liis return to 
 London, he led a more private public life, no longer 
 preaching, as he did before, to crowds of eager hearers, 
 though he kept up the numerous relations formed during 
 
ACADEMICAL COURTESIES. 201 
 
 his previous visit, witli members of all the various evan- 
 gelical denominations. I may add that this journey, the 
 eclat of which, increased Ijy distance, stirred up against 
 him an envious spirit in Geneva, is simply mentioned in 
 his " Church Journal " in these words : — " The four and a 
 half months which I have spent in England have been 
 owned of God by a demonstration of power accompanying 
 the Word." 
 
 Shortly after his return he received from the University 
 of GlasgOAV the degree of "Doctor of Divinity." His 
 diploma, dated the 10th October 1826, and signed by the 
 chancellor and eighteen professors, was sent to him " as a 
 very faithful pastor, an excellent man, commendable in the 
 highest degree for his piety, and the holiness of his life, and 
 especially worthy of the highest theological honours." 
 
 Delighted and encouraged by the reception he had 
 experienced abroad, he continued to display, during the 
 years that followed, extraordinary energy and activity. 
 
 It was at this time that he established " La Societe 
 du Bon Depot," and renewed his efforts to induce his 
 friends to unite with him in the endeavour to found a 
 school of evangelical theology in Geneva. 
 
 The Society " Du Bon Depot " (as it was called) was 
 started in January 1827, in a pastoral assembly of the 
 Church of Testimony, for the purpose of defending and 
 disseminating the faith by religious tracts, by the circula- 
 tion of the Bible, and by home and foreign missions. This 
 association, of which my father was the very soul and 
 principal agent, acquired considerable importance, which 
 it preserved up to the time when the Evangelical Society 
 of Geneva became the centre of all activity of that kind. 
 
202 LIFE OF C/FSAR MALAN. 
 
 Witli reference to originating a theological institution, 
 this was a movement in which he necessarily required the 
 assistance of his brethren. He had had the idea of it in 
 his mind from the close of 1825, and it was by his ad^dce, 
 indeed, that one of the nonconforming pastors of Geneva 
 aj)plied himself to the study of ecclesiastical history with 
 a view to this project. In 1827 he again brought the sub- 
 ject under the notice of his brethren, urging the necessity 
 of founding at Geneva a school to be conducted on strict 
 23rinciples, where young students for the ministry might be 
 brought up in sound scriptural, as well as scientific and 
 secular, knowledoe. For a moment it seemed as tliouQ;h 
 the thing were really going to be done. Towards the end 
 of the year, however, on his return, after a brief absence, 
 he found that the friends to whom he had communicated 
 his views were already prepared with schemes for forming 
 among themselves an " Institution " in no way coming uj) 
 to his idea of what was needed. It so happened that just 
 at that time he had had a visit from a young student in 
 theology in the National Academy, who had been com- 
 pelled, on account of his orthodoxy, to abandon his idea of 
 ordination in the National Church. My father took him 
 to live with him and superintend the education of his 
 sons, undertaking, at the same time, to complete his course 
 of preparation, a boon which Avas afterwards shared* by 
 three other young men, who soon found themselves in the 
 same predicament. 
 
 I have before me the J\IS. of an inauguration address, 
 delivered to these students on the 18th December 1827. 
 It contains no great display of learning; it simply sets 
 forth, in glowing and animated strains, the nature of the 
 
CANDIDATES FOR THE MINISTRY. 203 
 
 Christian ministry, representing it as a holy trust, not, 
 indeed, committed to delegates direct from Christ Himself, 
 but to mere re-declarers of the inspired testimony of 
 prophets and apostles. They are not required to tell the 
 world of any other message than that which issued directly 
 from God Himself. That message is to be found in the 
 Bible, wherein faith apprehends it under the influence of 
 the Divine Spirit, and requires to be studied, vindicated, 
 and upheld by means of theological research. 
 
 I select from this introductory address the following 
 passages which may serve to illustrate that ardent love of 
 truth which was at the foundation of my father's dog- 
 matism, as well as that direct personal communion with 
 God which stamped his faith with absolute independence 
 and certainty. 
 
 " Truth, as she actually exists, as she has 
 
 ever been, as she continues to be, as she Avill be, world 
 without end, — this truth is the witness of the Spirit 
 of God, iclio hnoios and searches into the cleejJ tilings of God, 
 and ivJw cannot lie in whatever He reveals. There is no 
 uncertainty here, no probabilities, no questionings, no re- 
 cantings of error, no equivocations, no ambiguities, no 
 seducing argument, no empty declamation, nothing incom- 
 2:)lete, insufficient, or imperfectly stated, but everywhere 
 frem beginning to end light, purity, perfection, a glow of 
 glory and grace. Truth is set forth as ' a strait and nar- 
 row path^ as clear and deep icaters, as refined gold, as silver 
 szxen tiracs tried in the fire, as luscious and fragTant honey. 
 St Paul speaks of its treasures as ' treasures of wisdom and 
 knowledge.' It is the knowledge of heaven, for it is the 
 word of God." 
 
204 LIFE OF CjESAR MALAK 
 
 And further on, in liis enumeration of a preacher's 
 duties : — " Consider, gentlemen, how jealous is the faithful 
 servant of the sovereignty of his Lord and Master over his 
 conscience ; he is free, he has been emancipated by the 
 Lord Jesus, though for the love of his Master he is servant 
 of all. He is under the yoke, indeed, but it is the yoke of 
 God and His Spirit, through the Word. He acknowledges 
 no other, he knows no other ; no persuasion, no seduction, 
 no force, no constraint, can reach his conscience ; and 
 while he knows that it is neither in a spirit of insubordina- 
 tion, nor from a desire to create a reputation for himself, or 
 to surround himself with disciples, that he severs himself 
 from ties which had held him in his ignorance, he honours 
 first his Master's word, and submitting himself to it as a 
 trust for which he must give account, he declares loyally 
 and fearlessly, in public and in private, that the kingdom 
 and glory belong to God, and that those who fear Him 
 should bow to Him alone." 
 
 Let me quote further a distinction between the orthodox 
 professor and the believer, as laid down in his " Prolego- 
 mena" in the same course of reading : — 
 
 " The one bases his faith in the divine authority of 
 revelation on his own arguments and deductions ; the 
 other establishes it on what God has made known 
 to him ; the one rests on the truthfulness of God, as on 
 one of the perfections which he has learned to attribute to 
 the Divine Being ; the other, on the truth of God as re- 
 vealed to his soul by an act of divine power ; the one 
 accepts, through his reason, the witness of God ; the other 
 receives that witness in his heart." 
 
 These instructions continued for more than a year. In 
 
GREAT PERIL. 205 
 
 Marcli 1829 a thesis appeared on " Original Sin/' addressed 
 to students in theology by the candidates of the Church of 
 Testimony, and entitled, " Who can bring a clean thing 
 out of an unclean ?" That same year one of these candi- 
 dates, j\r. Vivien of Geneva, (now a j)astor in the French 
 Protestant Church at Arras), was ordained by my father, 
 who was assisted on the occasion by some of the non- 
 conforming Genevese pastors, with others from abroad. 
 Among the former was ^I. Bost, who says, with reference 
 to the occurrence, " that it was one of the very few ordi- 
 nations in which he had never regretted having taken part." 
 To return to 1827. On the 20th of May in that year 
 our home was laid waste by the inundation which jNI. 
 Bost describes so graphically in his Memoirs. It was on a 
 Sunday evening that the event took place. About six 
 o'clock, the atmosphere being dull and oppressive, black 
 clouds swept suddenly over the sky, and scarcely had we 
 fled for shelter from the garden to the house, when a water 
 spout broke over the Pre I'Eveque with unparalleled vio- 
 lence. The water rushed into the garden, and flooded the 
 basement of the house. My father, up to his waist in the 
 flood, endeavoured, with my elder brothers and some of 
 the boys of the Sunday school, to rescue the furniture and 
 numerous articles which the stream was bearing away. 
 At one moment, rushing into the current, he had great 
 difficulty in saving a servant girl who had been carried 
 away while she was trying to render assistance. Prom 
 time to time he stopped to ask if we were all safe. The 
 storm was terrible. The roar of the water, mingled with 
 the crash of the crumbling garden walls, and the cries of 
 the neighbours who retreated into our house, escaping by 
 
206 LIFE OF CyFSAE MALAN. 
 
 tlie roof from tlieir own, wliich was tlireatening to give 
 way. The road had become impassable. This lasted for 
 several hours. Meanwhile, night came on, but found us 
 unable to procure a light, or to prepare food for the little 
 ones, — the cellar and the ground floors having been taken 
 entire possession of by the waters. Whilst the family was 
 assembled in the rooms above, one of the children (six 
 years old) asked his father to pray to God to stop the rain. 
 At the request of the little one, he fell on his knees, and 
 as he w^as praying the rain and the fury of the storm sud- 
 denly ceased, whilst at the same moment a voice was heard 
 calling him by name. It was an English friend who came, 
 half swimming, to our rescue from our neighbours, the 
 "Wolffs, pushing a basket before him full of provisions, 
 with a supply of candles. The next morning the garden 
 and the basement of the house presented a scene of mourn- 
 ful desolation, the road and plain of the Pre I'Eveque 
 being covered with mud and gravel, while a quantity of 
 fish accumulated round proved that the water spout had, 
 in the first instance, passed over the lake. 
 
 But this was not all. An excited croAvd had collected 
 to view the havoc which had been created, and assumed 
 from time to time a threatening attitude. One of the 
 lower orders, having forced his way into the house, caught 
 sight of the passage of Scripture over the drawing-room 
 chimney, which my father (according to a frequent habit 
 he had of decorating his apartments after that fashion) had 
 painted there, in large characters, many years before : 
 " We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle be 
 destroyed, we have a building of God, an house not made 
 with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
 
VISIT TO FEAUBRUNNEN, 207 
 
 Xo sooner had tlie man seen it, than he called to his 
 comrades and harangued them to the effect that " the 
 miserable hypocrite, instead of exerting himself to save 
 his family, had occupied his time with ^vriting these 
 words." The mob soon prepared to proceed from words to 
 deeds, but an 02:)portune arrival of gens d'armes cleared 
 the premises. 
 
 Our friends the Wolffs, whose country-house was hard 
 by, lost no time in offering shelter to my mother and the 
 children, while our dwelling was being repaired. As for 
 my father, so far from being depressed by the misadven- 
 ture, he named his garden thenceforth the Pre-Beni, a 
 name wliich he transferred to the new country-house 
 to which we removed three years afterwards, and which 
 adjoined the one we had left. This new abode lias been 
 for more than thirty years a home of peace and signal 
 blessing to us and many others. Thus God Himself 
 testified abundantly to the inextinguishable faith of His 
 servant. 
 
 Meanwhile my father, who had suffered considerably 
 from the anxiety and fatigues occasioned by the ]\Iay 
 disaster, felt in need of repose. Tt was tlien that he 
 paid the visit to the village of Fraubrunnen, ^\■hiL•ll has 
 been already referred to. 
 
 In the summer of 1828 he made another expedition to 
 England and Ireland, visiting Scotland at the samu time. 
 It was during this missionary tour that he was seized with 
 an attack of faintness wlide he was in the pulpit, having 
 preached three times in one day, and on several da3^s in 
 succession. Finishing his sermon with great difliculty, 
 and returning to the friend's house where he was visiting. 
 
208 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 lie became very ill. He was confined to his room for six 
 weeks, but availed himself of his period of recovery to 
 publish, in English, a little book on the assurance of 
 faith. It is entitled, " Theogenes ; or, A Plain and Scrip- 
 tural Answer to the Solemn Question, Am I, or am I not, 
 a Child of God ?" It passed through several editions. 
 During his absence his place was filled by theological 
 students, whose sermons, however, he read himself before 
 they preached them. 
 
 Shortly after his return, a committee, formed for the 
 purpose of erecting a statue to Eousseau, handed him the 
 subscription list. Those at the head of the movement 
 regarded it, not merely as an act of homage to a man 
 w^hose reputation had reflected renown on his country, but 
 as a sort of reparation to his memory, and, at the same 
 time, as a protest against the opposition which he had 
 experienced in his lifetime from the clergy and magis- 
 trates of old Geneva. 
 
 My father, however, held Geneva to be no other than 
 the city of the Eeformation, the Christian city, the asylum 
 of pure truth. IN'ot only, therefore, was he unable to aid 
 the project, but he felt constrained to regard it as a public 
 denial of that faith, whose recognition in high quarters 
 constituted in his eyes the sole glory of his country. 
 Hence he replied, in N'ovember, to the deputation which 
 had been sent to him, in a pamphlet of several pages, 
 entitled, "Eousseau's Statue : Answer of a Citizen of Chris- 
 tian Geneva to an Application made to him to contribute 
 to its Erection," and addressed to the members of the 
 committee formed for that purpose. 
 
 With singular eloquence and feeling, he stated his 
 
THE ROUSSEAU CONTROVERSY. 209 
 
 reasons for refusing liis co-operation, under tlie three lieads 
 of religion, patriotism, and the republic. As a Christian, 
 he wondered that the jubilee of the blessed Eeformation 
 should find them preparing to erect such a statue; as a 
 citizen, he recalled to their recollection the fearful revolu- 
 tionary scenes wliich liad terrified liis childliood, and asked 
 those whom he was addressing if they hoped, by honouring 
 anew the object of popular incense and adulation at a 
 crisis of popular delirium, to promote the welfare of a 
 generation already saturated with scepticism, infidelity, 
 and licentiousness. Finally, as a member of the republic, 
 he disputes the right of a mere section to involve an entire 
 populace in its own individual preferences. 
 
 The greater the courage and uprightness of this reply, 
 the more certain was it to irritate those who had been 
 taught to rec^'ard the scheme as a vindication of the 
 national honour. ''AVho knows?" Avas the laniiuaLie of one 
 
 o o 
 
 of the brochures called forth by my father's answer, and 
 declaring that the time for rendering justice to Eousseau 
 had come, " Who knows whether M. Malan himself is not 
 giving a proof of genius in laying the foundation of a new 
 Clmrch?" Then urging in a very pointed manner, "an 
 absolute separation between the spiritual and temporal," 
 it pretends to see, in the earnest protest of which it com- 
 plains, not only such idle declamations as are suited only 
 to a conventicle of sectaries, but a return of tliat old leaven 
 of clerical despotism, the mere mention of whicli, it Avas well 
 known, sufficed to arouse in Geneva the sensitive suscepti- 
 bilities of a nascent liberalism. 
 
 The effect of this publication on the peoi>le was such, 
 that the magistrate begged my father to abstain for a little 
 
210 LIFE OF CyFSAB MALAN. 
 
 time from appearing in pnblic. He replied that it would be 
 impossible for liim not to leave his house when the duties 
 of his ministry required it. That very day, however, as it 
 happened, he was seized with lameness, and so kept a 
 prisoner for more than a month. His family and friends 
 looked on the incident as providential, the physician being 
 unable to account for it ; while he himself was as capable 
 as ever of writing, or receiving friends. 
 
 He turned his forced seclusion to account by reading 
 anew the entire works of Eousseau, and then issued, under 
 the title of " Eousseau and the Eeligion of our Fathers," a 
 picture of manners in which lie depicted vividly the infi- 
 delity as thorough as it was artful, which the false senti- 
 ments of that author had been the means of diffusing, and 
 of which he saw such abundant fruits around him. This 
 brochure which appeared under the title of "Folly of a 
 Wise INIan of the World," was only a republication of a 
 production which he had issued in 1826, in English. He 
 now sent it forth with a few additional pages, in which, 
 under the influence of the self-imposed study, from which he 
 had just risen, and while appealing to the ancient faith of 
 Geneva, he criticises briefly the shallow and dangerous 
 theories of the man, whom it is now the fashion to call 
 " The Philospher of Geneva." 
 
 Meanwhile, the statute was executed by Pradier, and 
 was inaugurated with great pomp in " L'lle des Barques," 
 called thenceforward, " L'lle Eousseau." ]\Iy father never 
 set his foot there from that day. 
 
 After having published, in the February of that year, a 
 new edition of his "Songs of Zion," containing two 
 hundred hymns, and later, of his "Theogenes," he next 
 
FAFJOUS PUBLICATIONS. 211 
 
 issued the tracts, " What God Keeps is Well Kept/' " The 
 Heathen at our Doors," and "The Chateau Weather- 
 cock." 
 
 In 1829 he issued some new works, besides two sermons 
 on " The Love of our ISTeighbour," in which he dwells on 
 the sources and practice of true charity, and " The Two 
 Baptisms," delivered on the occasion of the baptism of his 
 twelfth and last child. It was then that he again sided 
 openly with the dissenters, against whom persecution had 
 broken out into new ardour in the Canton de Vaud, where 
 many of them had been doomed to imprisonment and 
 exile. 
 
 This he did in his publication entitled, " The Liberty 
 and Fatherland of the Children of God,"* where, in a 
 dramatic style, he claims liberty for the persecuted, and 
 presents a picture of those pious and brotherly assemblies 
 — their substitute for the Fatherland — the Fatherland that 
 had rejected them from its bosom. "War with God" — a 
 tract of a few pages — is an urgent and solemn appeal 
 addressed to the Grand Council of the same canton, in the 
 name of justice and right, and of the liberty of the citizen ; 
 above all, of the peril wliich that Assembly incurred, like 
 the Sanhedrim of old, of being found fighting against 
 God. 
 
 Of course, such published utterances could not fail to 
 bring down upon him the odium of the persecuting set, as 
 well as of the populace which they had roused. 
 
 It was at this crisis, I think, that, happening to be at 
 Payerne, where he was detained by an accident to his 
 
 * " Liberty aud Fatlieiiand," the motto of the scutcheon of the Canton 
 de Vaud. 
 
212 LIFE OF CESAR MALAN. 
 
 horse, an occurrence took place in wliicli lie owed liis 
 safety, under God, entirely to liis Christian presence of 
 mind. It is related, at full length, in his " Quatre-vingt 
 Jours d'un Missionaire," page 445. 
 
 The same year saw the issue of two fresh tracts, " The 
 Good Bargain," and " The Hypocrite." 
 
 The " Good Bargain " is a dialogue between two peasants 
 on the gift of salvation through the atonement of Jesus 
 Christ, and on those fruits of joy and holiness which are a 
 necessary consequence of a hearty apprehension of it. It 
 evinces, in numerous niceties of language and gesture, if I 
 may so put it, that correctness of observation which, in my 
 father's case, proceeded from a thorough love of, and sym- 
 pathy with, the people, while, at the same time, it is easy 
 to trace, in the sentiments which he puts in the mouths of 
 his rustics, the compact and logical dcA^elopment of his own 
 system of theology. Thus in " The Elder Son," in " The 
 School of Amont Dale," and in many of his other tracts, 
 we find rather a lucid exposition of evangelical doctrine 
 than a testimony of Christian faith, powerful from its very 
 simplicity — an exposition of truth calculated to affect any 
 who might as yet be strangers experimentally to personal 
 Christianity. 
 
 " The Hypocrite " was merely a narrative of one of the 
 numerous incidents which happened to him in his dealings 
 with "pious beggars." Throughout his long life he was 
 continually obliged to reply to certain deceitful assaults on 
 his benevolence by forwarding " The Discomfiture of 
 Master Eusard." 
 
 At the close of that year occurred those disturbances in 
 his church, of which mention has already been made. As 
 
THE MISSIONARY. 213 
 
 soon as tliey were over, my father, surrounded Ly a numer- 
 ous family, and free from ecclesiastical quarrels, gave him- 
 self up entirely to foreign missionary work, while in Geneva 
 itself he stood forth as perse veringly, as watchfully, as 
 faithfully as ever, a witness for the truth. " It is under this 
 twofold aspect that we nmst now regard him, after we 
 have endeavoured, as succinctly as possible, to summarise 
 that doctrine which, with him, constituted " The Truth." 
 
BOOK IL 
 
 PUBLIC LABOUES FEOM 1830. 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTEE I j 
 
 I 
 
 HIS DOGMATISM, AND THE DISTINCTIVE CHAEACTEE OF HIS i 
 
 TEACHING. ! 
 
 " I know whom I have believed." ' 
 
 How can I err in trusting Thee, 
 
 O Thou in Whom I move and live ? 
 
 Since Thou hast given Thy life for me, ^ 
 
 What lack I that Thou A\dll not give '( j 
 
 Enough has been said to show that the causes that inter- . 
 
 niptecl my father's ministry (so far as they are to be traced . 
 
 to himself), arose x^rincipally from the manner in which he i 
 
 thought it his duty to state his personal opinions in the ' 
 
 midst of his small congregation. j 
 
 Before turning, then, to the tale of his missionary I 
 
 activity, which, from the year 1830, engrossed more and . 
 
 more his time and energies, it would be as well, at this ; 
 point, to say something on the subject of his doctrinal 
 views. And, in doing this, we are at once attracted to an 
 
 investigation of the charge of dogmatism, so frequently ' 
 
PERMAXEXCY OF HIS BELIGIOUS THOUGHT. 215 
 
 and so early alleged against liim, both by friends and foes. 
 It will be our future task to account, as briefly as possible, 
 for tliat distinctive doctrine wliicli lie was accused of 
 making too prominent in liis teaching. 
 
 There is one thing in the history of my father's religious 
 thought which is ever striking me with fresh force. 
 I allude to its unchanged and permanent continuance 
 through the progress of years. From 1818 I find, both in 
 the notes of his first sermons and in his correspondence, 
 the same ideas, embodied in the same' formulas, clothed 
 in the same phraseology, and illustrated with the same 
 metaphors even, which he employed to the very last. So 
 that if, as we know to have been the case, he experienced 
 a gTcat change in reference to his ecclesiastical principles, 
 this was in no way true as regards his theological tenets, 
 which, so far from modifying, he asserted to the end with 
 increasing conviction and clearness of definition. 
 
 Of course, he had not been Slow to arrive at the con- 
 clusion " that the conversion of the heart to God was a 
 work for which the mere argumentative force of truth, 
 dogmatically declared, was utterly insufficient." But if he 
 found himself thus driven to conclude that an indiscrimi- 
 nate, unrei]!ulated declaration of truth was to be avoided, 
 he did not, on that account, vary either the positiveness 
 or clearness of his testimony, nor yet the special form in 
 which it had unifurndy been invested. Of course, tliis 
 involved hnn in a degree of monotony, not always re- 
 deemed, with those to whom his teaching was most 
 familiar, by the solenmity and authority whicli liis singu- 
 larly lively and heartfelt convictions imparted to his 
 delivery. 
 
216 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAK 
 
 It may be admitted at once that lie was rather a faith- 
 ful and courageous witness to the truth, than a theologian, 
 in the strict sense of the term. ITot that his contempo- 
 raries regarded him thus. One glance at the so-called 
 theological productions of the French world of that day- 
 will show this. And indeed if, according to an old say- 
 ing, prayer, hard work, and earnest study of the Scriptures 
 make a theologian, he has, in good truth, a right to the 
 title, and that in an eminent degree. After distinguish- 
 ing himself in his youth as a correct and gTaceful Latin 
 scholar, and a dialectician of no mean capacity, he gave 
 himself up exclusively, from the year 1817, to the daily 
 study of the Scriptures. He had continued to read the 
 ^ew Testament in Greek, and as Hebrew had scarcely 
 been taught at Geneva during the period of his education, 
 he devoted himself to the study of it as soon as he had 
 the leisure. For several years he kept up the custom of 
 reading one or two psalms a day in the original, and was 
 able after a time to quote many of them by heart. 
 
 With reference to his study of the Scriptures generally, 
 he prosecuted it chiefly during the early hours of the day, 
 till, by degrees, his morning reading developed into his 
 habitual occupation. I remember the smile with which, 
 one day towards the close of his life, he thought it right 
 to explain to me, when I found him turning over the leaves 
 of a Yirgil, how he happened to be making acquaintance 
 once more with a friend of his youth. 
 
 As resfards the careful toil of his researches, some of his 
 writings have sufficiently demonstrated that he had by no 
 means failed in his efforts after patient scholarship. His 
 correspondence on such matters is occasionally very 
 
HIS LEGACY TO THE CHURCH. 217 
 
 striking; sucli a letter, for example as one containing a 
 searching criticism of a work on wliich his opinion had 
 been asked. There are others, too, (copies of which are 
 in my possession), complete treatises of Biblical dogma- 
 tism, as it was understood at the time ; and I have often 
 asked myself, as I studied his closely-written pages, 
 full of quotations and discussions of texts, all accurately 
 reasoned out, and not unfrequently punctuated and 
 arranged in paragraphs, whether I was not rather reading 
 a w^ork prepared for publication than letters written 
 hastily and addressed to a private friend, as their style and 
 personal allusions running through them, abundantly prove. 
 The truth is, that even if my father had not bequeathed 
 to the Church a system of dogma capable of satisfying the 
 requirements of the present time ; his testimony, bearing 
 as it ever did on what is the central point of all true Chris- 
 tian dogma, has not the less succeeded, on the other hand, in 
 silencing such negative and erratic views as have elicited 
 its attacks.'' Passing by the fact, that he has left her what 
 is better far than a new system of dogma, a truly apostolic 
 example in the proclamation and defence of the Christian 
 
 * I cannot help expressing my regret that the Eev. E. de Pressensc, in 
 the retrospective view which introduces his remarkable essay on Redemp- 
 tion, should not have pointed more clearly to this fact. As he has named 
 my father as the representative of the system of theology, admitted by the 
 instruments of the revival, it would have been but fair if the gifted author 
 who criticises the narrowness of view which seems to him to be the conse- 
 quence of that system, had indicated the difference between Malan and his 
 contemporaries. Speaking even of the revival as a whole, if de Pressensc 
 thought it his duty to impugn it as leaning towards "antiuomianism," he 
 certainly ought to have stated that, whatever might appear to be the natural 
 result of the doctrines then most conspicuously put forward, the fact remains, 
 that the leading characteristic of that great religious movement was a 
 strictness of morals bordering on austerity. 
 
218 LIFE OF CJE8AP. MALAN. 
 
 faith ; nor yet recalling in liow many liearts there is reason 
 to believe he was the means of writing the everlasting 
 name of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,— in how many 
 souls his clear teaching dissipated the mists of an uncertain 
 faith; what he has done for the Reformed Church in 
 general, by means of his controversies with Home— what 
 he has given to the Church in his writings and hymns— 
 these alone are grounds sufficient for according him the 
 title of Doctor of Theology, with which, first of all those 
 connected with the great revival, he was honoured by a 
 foreign university. 
 
 At the same time, he used invariably to maintain that 
 lie was no theologian. "All I know," he would often 
 repeat, "is the sovereign grace of God in Jesus Christ, the 
 trust committed to me, of which I must give account." 
 
 Yet, in spite of this modest self-depreciation, it is clear 
 that, even as a theologian, my father exercised a marked 
 influence over other minds, as well by the precision and 
 patience with which he reiterated the doctrines of orace at 
 that time little thought of, as also by the firmne°ss with 
 which he maintained the divinity of Jesus Christ and the 
 divine authority of the Scriptures. Still, if he was a theo- 
 logian among his contemporaries, he was sui^-emely a dog- 
 matic theologian. 
 
 Already, at the commencement of the revival, his oppo- 
 nents among the Genevese clergy had reproached him with 
 exaggeratmg the importance of what seemed to them little 
 better than theological subtleties. Even then he was 
 publicly attacked, on the ground of being too much given 
 to hair-splitting rationalism ;* a fault imputed to him from 
 
 " Ua rationaliste trop scrutateur." 
 
THE THEOLOGY HE HAD TO MEET. 219 
 
 a very early XDeriod, tliougli under another name, by liis own 
 brethren. 
 
 As for the attacks of those who had no part in his faith, 
 none deserved the reproach of rationalism less than he; 
 at least, if the word is to be taken to mean that disposition 
 of spirit which will not believe in anything which reason 
 has not grasped, not merely in the recognition of its exist- 
 ence, but the understanding of its essence. To employ 
 reason to defend the expression of faith already arrived at, 
 is not rationalism. Hence everything depends on our 
 ascertaining whether the dogmatic reasoning of ^Malan did 
 or did not meet the negations which encountered evangeli- 
 cal faith, or whether it did or did not bear upon points 
 which belong exclusively to instinctive heart piety. 
 
 To ascertain the exact truth on these points, it will be 
 necessary to form a correct idea of the negative theology 
 with which he had to deal, and of the state of the religious 
 atmosphere round him. 
 
 At the present time, unquestionably, thanks to the 
 unmistakable clearness with which the debate was 
 carried on (more especially by Llalan himself), unbelief 
 has been driven to a denial of the positive or direct 
 authority of the Bible. Appealing therefore, in support 
 of its nen-ation of religious truth, to distinctions of which 
 Malan, in his youth, had not a conception; it seeks its 
 weapons of attack in the inner facts of the present life of 
 the soul. To follow the adversary successfully into such 
 a region, the champion of the faith finds it needful to 
 analyse these facts attentively. And, as an inevitable 
 result, the only authority which will remain available for 
 his purpose will be that one tribunal, ever supreme in this 
 
220 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 subjective sphere, the tribunal of conscience, and the 
 absolute character of the moral obligation it imposes. 
 
 Looking, then, at the question from this point of view, 
 which, as we regard it, may be stated as that of the actual 
 apologist, it is evident that a mind which, as we have 
 seen, was the case with Malan, discarded in the investigation 
 of religious truth all thought of the human element con- 
 sidered as such, would fail to exercise any very general 
 influence. Moreover, this point of view, the mere pro- 
 pounding of which might possibly scandalise the orthodox 
 believer, had not then been assumed. At that time friends 
 and foes of the revival alike confined themselves to the 
 region of religious supernaturalism. ISTeither side thought 
 of making those facts the subject of theological study, 
 which belong to the so-called anthropological science. It 
 never occurred to them to suppose that it Avas the business 
 of the theolos^ian to determine the essential relation sub- 
 sistinsr between the divine and human element. N'or was 
 this only the case with such as denied the Incarnation ; 
 even men, for whose faith this fact had remained holy and 
 precious, considered it after all as an isolated miracle 
 without an essential and distino'uishable cause. EeliQ;ious 
 doctrines included only, in the general judgment, theological 
 truths properly so-called ; such verities as referred to the 
 being and work of God, considered apart from man and 
 the world. 
 
 Both sides, therefore, concurred in taking, for the first 
 and only base of religious argument, not so much a just 
 appreciation of the nature of the facts of revelation and 
 salvation which are stated to us in Scripture, as of the words 
 themselves which transmit to us the historical knowledge 
 
AUTHORITY OF SCRIPTURE, 221 
 
 of these eternal verities. Tims it was tliat these words of 
 Holy Writ were universally designated as being in them- 
 selves " the written re-\'elation/' so that no one Avould have 
 thought of appealing to any other religious authority than 
 that which they contained.. It did not occur to any one 
 to indicate that first and primitive authority which pre- 
 cedes, and which alone establishes for us, that of the 
 Bible. On this last point especially, not only did the 
 Genevese Church remain true to her traditional history, 
 but for more than a century and a half, during a contro- 
 versy with Eome, in which texts had been freely bandied 
 about, the disputants had assumed a position which not 
 even the Eeformers themselves had definitely taken up — 
 the verbal inspiration and oracular character of the sacred 
 writings. Every one admitted the divine authority of the 
 very letter of the Scripture, regarding it as the direct 
 result of a supernatural action of the Holy Ghost.* It 
 never occurred to any, even the most determined opponent 
 of the revival, to relegate the fight to tliat point. As for 
 the men of the evangelical party, intent on the thought of 
 reviving, in the midst of a people who had entirely lost 
 sight of them, the holy and essential truths of the per- 
 sonal will of God, and of the sovereignty of His grace, 
 they loudly denied any sort of moral liberty to the human 
 soul in the spiritual phenomenon of individual faith. 
 Thus it was that such men liad been fureibly liioiiglit to 
 substitute, for the living and personal principle ol" that 
 faith, the mere passive acceptance of a divine action sub- 
 
 * The first man in Geneva who, at a later period, undertook to rei)ly 
 publicly to the letter of E. Scherer against the inspiration of ►Scripture, was 
 Trofessur Cheiieviere, the representative of the most decided opposition to 
 
 the rcli'^ous movement of the revival. 
 
222 LIFE OF CJESAE MALAN. 
 
 sisting entirely apart from the believing soul. Hence it 
 followed that the action of the Holy Ghost, exclusively and 
 strictly attached to the written -word, existed for religious 
 thought independently of the action of personal faith. 
 Another corollary was, that the sacred character of this 
 same action bore specially upon the clergy, the sole ex- 
 positors of the written word, and also on the general fact 
 of the visible Church, through wdiose instrumentality alone 
 it has been handed down to the faithful. Nor did it ever 
 occur to any evangelical believer to distinguish between 
 the authority and the inspiration of the Bible, between 
 the objective truth of the facts to which it testifies, and 
 the perfect accuracy to be attributed to the varying mode 
 of expression in which these facts are set forth. 
 
 And what abundantly proves our assertion is, that as 
 soon as one courageous champion was heard declaring 
 earnestly for that word which received honour in theory, 
 and profound neglect in practice, those whom he 
 appealed to confined themselves, in reply, to such empty 
 and vague generalities as are apt to move public opinion ; 
 or, when they found themselves, after all their rhetoric, 
 pressed into a comer by his clear and cogent reasoning, 
 imported into the discussion the rancour of personality 
 and partisanship, thus disturbing the calmness of debate, 
 and diverting attention from religious to party interests. 
 
 At the present moment, undoubtedly, this state of 
 things has ceased to be. And yet the question still re- 
 mains, whether loud opposition, fraught though it be w^itli 
 the danger of passionate excitement, is not to be preferred 
 after all to that dead silence of indifference which threatens 
 to invade the minds of men. 
 
HIS DOGMATISM. 223 
 
 Be this as it may, when once we regard the qnestion as 
 one of snjiernatnralism, depending wholly on the verbal 
 and oracular authority of the Bible, it must be acknow- 
 ledged that Malan's was not one of those minds, meriting 
 the judgment of being too much given to investigation, 
 because he brought once more into liHit doctrines lon<^ 
 l")assed by, dogmas for many a year despoiled of their 
 authority ; on the contrary, it is but right to maintain that 
 he was a man of progress, of active thought, espousing 
 with faitliful courage the cause of a recognised but 
 neglected authority ; in a word, the champion of the sacred 
 rights of conscience and of religious sincerity. 
 
 As for his dogmatism, so far as it displayed itself, not 
 more in the defence than in the confession and communi- 
 cating of what his faith disclosed, — about this there could 
 be no question. It was impossible to hear him preach, or 
 to read the greater part of his writings, without being 
 struck by the fact, that he did not content himself with 
 rendering simple testimony to the reality of his objective 
 faith, but went on to explain, and even to lay down the 
 intellectual process by which, in his own mind, he appre- 
 hended the object of his faith. 
 
 Tliis characteristic, however, is in no way surprising, 
 when we take up the position he shared with those whom 
 lie addressed. For, as a matter of fact, there was nothing 
 in the intellectual formula Avhicli he deemed the issne of 
 ]iis personal thought. But he and his hearers licld it to 
 have been directly dictated by God Himself in tlie in- 
 spired AVord, — and revealed in its pages. As for tlio 
 introductory (piestion, bearing upon the way in wliicli 
 Scripture should be received and understood, no one had 
 
224 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 even raised it. While, with reference to a further point, 
 embracing a still wider scope — the inquiry, how a divine 
 revelation is to he communicated to the human soul, 
 whether by direct experience of divine realities, or by the 
 intervention of the thought of an intelligible presentation 
 of them ? — this most important consideration, which ought 
 to introduce all dogmatism on religious truth, was at that 
 time utterly ignored. Thus my father remained unable to 
 distinguish, in precise terms, between the essential authority 
 of his faith and the relative importance of his doctrine, — the 
 latter representing to him his Christianity and theology'; — 
 betAveen the authority of his faith, and dogma; so that dogma, 
 in his judgment, conveyed not merely truth, but the truth. 
 And yet, inasmuch as his faith, as is invariably true of 
 living belief, was experienced by him as " the gift of God " 
 to his soul, he could not but repudiate indignantly the 
 reproach he had already incurred, that he considered it 
 as the result of a simple process of thought. Still, the 
 way in which this assertion was persevered in, proved 
 conclusively that, whatever his personal exjierience might 
 be, his teaching lent a colour to it. The fact was that, 
 inasmuch as his whole attention was absorbed in the 
 devout contemplation of the salvation of God, the act by 
 which the soul apprehends that salvation seemed to him 
 so simple and so natural, that he did not care to inquire 
 curiously either into its history or elements.* Here, as 
 
 * In jNIalaiVs eyes, to believe was no act. " To believe does not 
 give any trouble," are his very words. " We must believe without stir- 
 ring." (See Quatre-vlngt Jours cl'un 3Iissionairc, p. 16.) Such senti- 
 ments denote clearly, not a credulous mind, Avhich his never was, but that 
 confiding disposition which appears in the whole tenor of his life. He was 
 called upon, as such natures generally are, to live rather with God and of 
 God than with men and of men. 
 
DO JFE MAKE VOID THE LA IF THROUGH FAITH? 225 
 
 appears to us, was the defect in his teaching ; the point 
 to which he, perhaps, did not realise the necessity of 
 directing sufficient attention. We may go further, and 
 characterise it as the general want in all the revival 
 preaching, — the feature that, for the present generation, 
 leaves it, so far, entirely unsatisfactory. We charge that 
 tendency, not indeed Avitli denying to faith the character 
 of a free, and, as it were, original work of the conscious 
 will of man, but with going further still, by failing to see it, 
 as it really is, a free and voluntary act of the instinctive 
 powers of the heart. It seems as though, by such an 
 exclusive representation of it as the result of an operation 
 directly wrought from above, we are forcibly drawn into 
 the danger of denying to it all essentially moral character. 
 Meanwhile, how is this defect to be explained ? Xot by 
 alleging, for that would be unjust, indifference to the moral 
 interests of the soul. That there were unliappy men in 
 that great awakening who " turned the grace of God into 
 lasciviousness" is possible; is, unhappily, only too probable. 
 But that so terrible a stigma could be affixed to the revival 
 generally, much more, that it could be charged upon any 
 one of the devoted band whose names figure in its liistory, 
 will be utterly denied by any who have had the least 
 acipiaintance either with tlicm or the time in whicli tliey 
 lived. 
 
 Such a reproacli was, indeed, undeserved. Only, carried 
 away by an energy of zeal which took its rise in sincere 
 faith and charity, those who were the heralds of that 
 awakening applied themselves to what was, at tliat time, 
 lln! most pressing want, — tlie proclamation ol" tlu' ol)jective 
 reality of a salvation liitlierto universally lost sight of. 
 
226 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAN. 
 
 Thus only, and from no laxity of moral views, they failed 
 to advance all that appertained to the human aj^propria- 
 tion of the divine tidings, — equally with the tiTith itself 
 objectively, a part of the divine message. Thus it was 
 that, in some instances, they ran the risk of offering to 
 those whom they taught a mere half-gospel, while, it 
 must equally be believed, to obviate this danger God 
 raised up, in the midst of the revival, the mighty voice 
 of Vinet. 
 
 Eut to confine ourselves to wdiat immediately concerns 
 the subject of these memoirs. It must be allowed that 
 we have completely accounted for his dogmatism. En- 
 grossed in absolute contemplation of the work of God, 
 considered as an historical fact, he had no leisure for a 
 slow and patient investigation of that w^ork in the centre 
 of the believer's personal life. HimseK supremely a man 
 of action, he was neither a thinker nor a psychologist, and 
 mere subjective contemplation, in his judgment but useless 
 dreaming, appeared in his eyes a sin. Admitting that he 
 often divined and anticipated the secrets of the human 
 heart, he never patiently examined its mysteries. He even 
 refused the task as useless and wTong. In his eyes, it 
 seemed nothing short of passing over the consideration of 
 the glorious salvation of God, viewed as an external fact, 
 for the sake of inquiring into the method of laying hold of 
 it, on the part of a creature himself powerless for good ; 
 leaving, in short, the celestial accents of the voice from 
 heaven to listen to the confused mutterings of degraded 
 and sinful humanity.* 
 
 * Thus it was tliat Malan did not even hesitate to affirm that we should 
 offend God if we were to pi-ay to Him for a salvation M-hich He declares 
 
• HIS ANALYSIS OF FAITH. 227 
 
 Hence, while lie never scrupled to protest against the 
 reproach already quoted, he may very fairly be charged 
 with want of decisiveness in specifying the nature of that 
 faith so prominent in all his teaching. Assuming that it 
 is to be regarded in itself, according to his experience, as a 
 moral act,* it is no less clear that it did not so present 
 itself to his thoughts at its first commencement. Faith, 
 it is urged, was in his eyes the heart's trust. Granted ; 
 yet it is at the same time a trust only to be reposed in 
 God after, and merely so far as, we have come to believe 
 in His salvation as an historical fact. It is therefore 
 principally, and at first, heartfelt confidence in a work of 
 God plainly understood, a God revealed to our intelli- 
 gence, — or at least in an operation of God clearly appre- 
 hended in our minds. In his judgment the moral element 
 was indispensable to constitute our faith. Here, indeed, 
 is the distinction between his fervent living piety and 
 that dead orthodoxy, that abstract contemplation, which 
 has never affected any but those who have had thrust 
 upon them its icy declamations. Yet, while he is per- 
 petually recurring to the necessity for faith being thus 
 living and heartfelt, that moral element which he 
 so constantly claims as an essential constituent, does 
 not, according to his view, appear in its earliest origin. 
 That element, if we watch for it, is ready to inter- 
 pose for sanctifying and spiritualising what was at first 
 
 He has already accomplished. — (See Quatre-vingt Jours (Tun Missioiiaire, pp. 
 140, 412, &c.) We may add that this sin, as he viewed it, was not 
 so much a want of confidence in God's moral character as a doubt of the 
 truthfulness of His written word, 
 
 * He defines it, the firm and sure confidence of the heart in what God 
 says. — Ihid. p. 279. 
 
228 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAK ' 
 
 but a simple deduction of the mind. In a word, lie re- 
 jected the idea that before we could come to know God, 
 we ought first to have been taught to love Him, believing 
 that we ought to know Him first before we come to love 
 Him * 
 
 The faith he preached is in short that central reality in 
 the human soul, that new life of the affections, which the 
 apostles were for ever setting forth. But in consequence 
 of the decisive part which, according to him, the under- 
 standing had to fulfil at its very earliest uj)-springing, 
 the object of it remains in his teaching, if not in his 
 own mind, rather a doctrine about God than God Himself ; 
 rather the name and history of God than that living 
 Being Whose influence is felt in the soul before it has 
 intellectually apprehended His work, before even it has 
 learned to stammer forth His name. Hence possibly his 
 hearers ran the risk of mistaking for saving faith a mere 
 belief in the salvation of God rather than in God the 
 Saviour; reliance, rather, in God's work than the con- 
 fidence that work inspires in the personal character of Him 
 Whom it reveals as a righteous Father. 
 
 * The following expresses his entire thought on this point. The passage 
 occurs in a letter addressed by him, in March 1827, to one who saw in reli- 
 gious faith an exclusively intellectual operation : " Saving faith is an Almighty 
 act by which the Holy Ghost enlightens the mind or touches the heart. 
 Thus it is that the faith which concerns the understanding only is a mere 
 science, or knowledge ; whilst that which apprehends and receives Christ is 
 a living science, received by the mind and the heart, by which is to be under- 
 stood the willing and acting jDrinciple in man. This faith is not, therefore, 
 as you state it, the full evidence of truth as it is known and accepted by the 
 mind or the understanding ; rather is it that same truth perceived by the 
 understanding, and received by the heart, namely, by the aflections, or the 
 will, of the soul. There is, therefore, in that faith an operation of the Holy 
 Spirit wrought upon both the powers of human nature, the understanding, 
 and the will, and not one which merely touches the former." 
 
HIS ANALYSIS OF FAITH. 229 
 
 Thanks, liowever, to the life and fervour of his piety, he 
 was so far from incurring this peril, that he did not even 
 see it to be a legitimate consequence of his teaching. 
 Moreover, we are not now speaking of the believer, but 
 simply of the teacher. 
 
 To confine ourselves, therefore, to his doctrine. It is in- 
 disputably true that, from the time that faith presented 
 itself to him in the manner indicated, he gathered also that 
 the individual intelligence of every believer necessarily 
 appeared as capable, not only of reflecting clearly in itself, 
 but also of rendering to others a true account of, the faith 
 which constitutes the central life of the believing soul. 
 Thenceforth, nothing was more natural than that my father 
 should ally with his definition of saving faith his entire 
 system of theology. Hence the charges of ultra- Calvinism 
 and generally of scholasticism, which were so often urged 
 against him, even by his best friends ; while he, on the other 
 hand, regarded them as so utterly incomprehensible, that 
 his only reply was a still more exact statement of his dog- 
 matic views. He failed to see that what staggered his 
 brethren was not the want of accuracy in his logic, but the 
 place he assigned to it. And yet, it never occurred to any 
 of them to point out this distinction; they were satisfied Avitli 
 their censures, but they never went further and explained 
 their vague criticisms. IsTo one was bold enough to say that 
 the point in dispute was not a religious truth, but a psycho- 
 logical fact. Xo one put into plain terms the question at 
 the root of the allegation, whether an experience as yet 
 instinctive, and not reflected from the understanding, can 
 be in us an experience really objective, a direct operation 
 of God upon the soid. 
 
230 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAX. 
 
 Above all, my father held such an acting of instinct to 
 be nothing more than a subjective issue of imagination or 
 personal feeling, in every instance a mere outcome of 
 separate personality.* Hence, in his opinion, the whole 
 work of salvation, whether viewed absolutely or relatively, 
 stood out as wrought before us, and consequently as 
 wrought without us. As regarded our interest in it, its 
 claims upon us, these he held as questions purporting to be 
 the issue, not so much of instinctive experience as of clear 
 intelligence. 
 
 From this it will be easy to infer, what we have just 
 asserted, the great importance which he attached to clear- 
 ness and precision in dogma as the expression of faith, 
 regarding it, as he did, not merely as the human version of 
 that faith, but above all as a divine idea preceding the 
 entrance of faith into the soul, and which faith at its first 
 up-springing is bound clearly to apprehend. ^Ve shall 
 understand, too, how it was that his dogmatic teaching, 
 being the expression of his faith, clothed itself in a dis- 
 tinctly syllogistic form ; the more so, as his own fashion of 
 thought was logical and acute. Hence, not satisfied simply 
 with stating his faith as a living reality within him, he 
 could not refrain from explaining it as a reliance based 
 upon considerations approving themselves thoroughly to 
 his reflection. Hence, moreover, — assurance of salvation, to 
 be complete, had to rest with him on a clear and conclusive 
 syllogism. In a word, and this was the obnoxious element 
 in his dogmatism, it was only by an effort of charity that 
 
 * " To feel that T am rich, is to deceive myself ; but to believe that the king 
 is rich, because he says it, is to be certain of a. fact, although I do no\ feel 
 it." — Quatre-vmf/t Jours, &c., p. 218. 
 
RELIGION A SCIENCE. 231 
 
 he credited tliose with living faith who failed to formiilarise 
 their creed exactly as he did. 
 
 Having thus given a tliorough analysis of the charac- 
 teristics of my father's religious opinions, I must liasten to 
 recall the circumstances in the midst of which they were 
 developed. Not only had he been occupied in secular 
 and religious teaching from a very early period, as well as 
 in pulpit ministration, but the very atmosphere he had 
 imbibed, and in particular the character of his studies, had 
 contributed to favour wdiat was beyond a doubt a leading 
 trait in his disposition. 
 
 Not to go back as far as Calvin, which would have been 
 necessary had we wished to have a full insight into the ear- 
 liest beginnings of the tendency with which we have just 
 been dealing, it will suffice to remind our readers that the cate- 
 chism in which my father and his contemporaries had been 
 instructed, commences by defining religion as "a science." 
 
 So it was an admitted fact in Geneva that the religious 
 life could only exist in those whose minds were illuminated 
 with clear religious knowledge. Hence it was, possibly, 
 that earnest men, when they saw religious life decaying 
 around them, so far from supposing that the eclipse of 
 dogmatic teaching which prevailed had resulted from this 
 decline, attributed to that doctrinal obscurity alone the 
 symptoms which dismayed them. 
 
 Thanks to the essentially dogmatic atmosphere which 
 surrounded alike their opponents and themselves, their zeal 
 could hardly fail to express itself dogmatically, and that 
 in direct proportion to the fervour of their fiiith. This 
 remark applies not merely to the Protestantism of Geneva, 
 but equally to that of Scotland, as well as to the tendencies 
 
232 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAN. 
 
 of tlie English "evangelical party" wliicli so decisively in- 
 fluenced the origin of the revival, and especially my father. 
 
 It was not, however, from the positive influences alone 
 to which Malan was exposed, that he derived his dog- 
 matism ; it was also fostered by the reaction he was called 
 upon to oppose to other influences of a directly opposite 
 character. At Geneva, as everywhere else, an excessive 
 intellectual dogmatism had aroused a correspondingly 
 vehement opposition. Underneath and alongside of the 
 prevalent official intellectualism there existed in the re- 
 ligious world a counter mysticism, as vague as it was 
 fanatical. Whilst, among its disciples, men of education 
 drew towards the lofty aspirations of a St Martin for 
 example, among the masses the same tendency frequently 
 expressed itself in superstitious devotion or exaggeration 
 of the imaginative faculty. 
 
 Both these types of religious thought had been en- 
 countered by him from an early period. As a young man 
 he had been a member of a lodge of tlieosophic and mystic 
 masons.* 
 
 Afterwards, however, the spectacle of the enthusiasm 
 existing in certain mmds in connection with the visit of 
 Madame de Krudener to Geneva, contributed, possibly 
 more than he himself was aware, to throw him into that 
 attitude of prudent reserve, to which he carefully adhered, 
 with reference to the earliest manifestations of the revival. 
 
 But more yet remains. Ilis studies favoured this in- 
 tellectual tendency. After his humanity course, followed 
 as it was by no sound philosophical reading, he proceeded 
 to theology, only to discover it to be, as conducted in his 
 
 * See De Goltz, ** Gene've Eeligieuse," pp. 120, 121. 
 
CO-OPEBATING INFLUENCES. 233 
 
 experience, of dogmatisms tlie coldest and most pedantic, 
 the dogmatism of a disguised and emasculated Christianity. 
 Impelled, however, by his mental bias to bring everything 
 within the compass of a precise definition, instinctively 
 averse to all confusion of thought, as well as to all formulas 
 which evade and twist, instead of boldly grappling with a 
 question, he soon found himself unable to rest satisfied with 
 the superficial, vague, obscure, and diluted teaching, which 
 the theological professors dealt out. Not only according 
 to his way of looking at things, (so thoroughly French in 
 this respect,) was it sufficient to prove an idea false, if it 
 could not be clearly shaped ; but none of his studies had 
 led him to distinguish between truth and reality, between 
 a thought, and the fact of which every thought must 
 necessarily be but an inadequate expression. 
 
 Such were the influences which, in conjunction doubt- 
 less with the peculiar bent of his intellect, while they 
 did not, of course, result in any positive confusion of 
 the moral and purely intellectual elements of the soul, 
 still made him regard the one as so intimately allied 
 with the other, that the state of the heart might fairly be 
 inferred from the conclusions of the mind. Hence, we 
 may not only understand the syllogistic and definitive 
 character of his teaching, but also arrive at a just interpre- 
 tation of his position as head of a church. AVe see how 
 he thought himself permitted, or rather considered it his 
 duty in the interests of ecclesiastical discipline, to form 
 clear and definite judgments on the inner life of those who 
 availed themselves of his ministrations. Eegarding con- 
 version, not merely as a reality indispensable to salvation, 
 (as every believer would admit,) but more than that, as an 
 
234 LIFE OF CjFSJB MALAK 
 
 event, the occurrence of which may always be specified 
 with certainty, even to the extent of setting forth its 
 earliest dawning in the renewed soul, he felt himself 
 driven, spite of his sound judgment and thorough large- 
 heartedness, to separate men into two classes, Christians 
 and worldlings, and this not merely, in a general sense, as 
 one stating an abstract fact, but most strictly and uni- 
 formly relying for decision, not merely on the fruit of the 
 heart, but of the understanding also. 
 
 But let it be stated emphatically, in reference to this 
 last point, that, as he judged others, so he judged 
 himself. In his own case, we find him dating his con- 
 version, not from the earliest impressions of his child- 
 hood, nor yet from the religious convictions of his youth, 
 but emphatically from that precise moment, when, under 
 the influence of the study of the Scriptures, he gave a 
 thoughtful and intelligent assent to what he had so long 
 practically though unconsciously held, ^ot, indeed, that 
 he failed to distinguish between the period when he 
 became orthodox and that of his soul's awakening, but 
 even in admitting this distinction, it was with a view to 
 maintaining that the latter would never have transpired 
 except as the issue of the former. 
 
 In general terms, it may be affirmed that his thoughts 
 were more given to the objects, privileges, and life of faith, 
 than to its subjective analysis. His care was to meditate 
 upon and to proclaim to others the celestial fact revealed 
 to his soul ; his one absorbing consideration, the fact itself, 
 its greatness, and the assurance and rapture with which 
 his spirit overflowed. It was not a question with him how 
 he received it, still less did he dwell on the accompanying 
 
BELIEVING AS A LITTLE CHILD. 235 
 
 conflict, his tliouglits were given up wholly and absolutely 
 to the possession, the assured possession, of the salvation of 
 God. Begotten again to a new life by the sudden manifes- 
 tation of this wondrous grace, wdien once by a simple act of 
 will he had laid hold of the promise, instinctively and irre- 
 vocably, — he could not suppose for a moment that any soul 
 experiencing a similar manifestation could ever pause or 
 consider. Full of adoring gratitude to the God of all 
 grace, believing implicitly and with his whole heart the 
 gospel of salvation, he had no thoughts to spare for him- 
 self, for the nature and justifiableness of the transports he 
 experienced, -which were to him the joy of a new life. It 
 was not for him to analyse doubts he had never known, 
 or to investigate, even in a speculative spirit, the precise 
 conception he had formed of that Divine Saviour Whom 
 his soul adored. In a word, he left it to others to indulge 
 in researches for which he had no fancy. His one desire 
 was to proclaim daily, with zeal ever fresh, not so much 
 the character as the work of God, not so much what He is 
 up to the present moment to every believing soul, as what 
 He did once for the elect. And this he did in demonstrat- 
 ing and defending the truth of the gospel, and the results 
 to which it leads, not so much as an historical manifesta- 
 tion of the eternal thoughts of divine love, but principally 
 as being the primary origin and first cause of our salvation. 
 Such was the end he strained at with the authority of a 
 conviction ever growing in power, depth, and heart-felt 
 earnestness. 
 
 And he was one of the most impressive preachers of the 
 objective and absolute reality of salvation. Here lay the 
 explanation of his dogmatism ; here also, its advantage. Xay 
 
236 LIFE OF CJESAE MALAN. 
 
 more, so far from involving him in any spiritual dangers, 
 it became the actual source of a prominently enthusiastic 
 and active piety. Indeed, with his impulsive, ardent 
 nature, glowing with fervent energy, sober-minded and 
 self-contained though he was, with a heart to which sim- 
 plicity and sincerity imparted genuine greatness, he com- 
 bined that trait which characterised Calvin himself, — an 
 inability to understand how the reality of a fact could be 
 allowed without the will and life exhibiting all its legiti- 
 mate results. 
 
 So far as any soul might be held back, either by utter 
 ignorance of what God has done for man, and apart from 
 man, or by a want of clearness and precision with reference 
 to this divine gift ; for such a soul there could have been, 
 there can be now, no more usefid. or powerful preacher than 
 Malan. But beyond this he was not prepared to go. It 
 was not his gift to descend from those great heights of 
 contemplation to an attentive, patient, persevering, and 
 occasionally minute analysis such as is the holy task im- 
 posed u^oon the jD^stor as the trainer of feeble, unwise, 
 uncertain souls. Awe-struck himseK by the eternal glories 
 of the work of God, entranced, enraptured again and again 
 by the mere contemplation of it, his eagle eye seemed never 
 weary of dwelling, with an ever fresh delight, on the centre 
 of all that dazzled his soul. For himself, and for others 
 ecj[ually, he knew of but one remedy for every soul sick- 
 ness, one solution for ever perplexity— the written testi- 
 mony of God, the recorded work of God, the salvation once 
 wrouglit by God.* Should he be called upon to deal with 
 
 * We may quote, as an instance of the manner in which he addressed 
 such souls, the following extract from one of his later works ('^ Incidents de 
 
SEQUENCE OF HIS THOUGHT. 237 
 
 a soul, for the needs or sufferings of wliicli this simple 
 message proved inadequate, he never stopped to search out 
 the cause of the evil in the recesses of the troubled heart, 
 or in any special circumstances of the case ; but confining 
 himself exclusively to the historical and objective reality 
 of the work of God, he proceeded forthwith to argue from 
 it all the consequences it involved ; his penetration, energy, 
 eloquence, and unsparing logic being called into full 
 operation. 
 
 Not that it is to be inferred from this that he ever 
 thought of representing salvation itself as being within 
 the grasp of mere reason. He, like every other believer, 
 knew well that spiritual conviction was direct from God, a 
 fact of experience in which the subjects of it are absolutely 
 passive. It was not as one seeking to establish the truth 
 itself, but as one assuming it, and starting from it, as from 
 an admitted conclusion, to which the soul has been brought 
 by the Holy Spirit through the instrumentality of Scrip- 
 ture, that he exchanged testimony for demonstration, con- 
 fession for exposition. Never caring even to pause and 
 prove the authority of the Bible, he was satisfied to assume 
 it, and to quote it authoritatively in its literal and simple 
 interpretation. Omitting to take into account all the in- 
 consistencies in which the soul of man is involved by his 
 free will, and not satisfied with protesting against all abuse 
 of his independence of action, he occasionally went so far 
 as to turn a deaf ear to its voice, and deny it point l)lank. 
 
 Voyage," Grains de Senevd, vol, vii. No. 89), wliicli may serve to 
 show the injustice of the reproach of antinomianism, as applied to his 
 popular teaching : " If you ask why you do not possess that salvation, I 
 answer, it is not God's fault, it is certainly yours. Here is the source ; rise 
 up and drink !" 
 
238 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 Xor did lie hesitate to affirm that God and man were sepa- 
 rated by a divergence essential, absolute, insuperable. It 
 was not enough for him to say with the apostle, " All is of 
 God," he would go on to say — what should be said, so 
 carefully, or conscience will be outraged — " and nothing is 
 by man." 
 
 Thus it has been endeavoured to enumerate the charac- 
 teristics of his dogmatism which repelled those who, while 
 they shared his faith, by no means shared his views. Him- 
 self a sincere and thoroughly convinced believer, the per- 
 fect submission of his faith rendered his teaching clear, 
 convincing, and irresistible by its strength and life, during 
 the whole period of his protracted testimony. Eeared, 
 however, in the bosom of a prevalent dogmatism, the victim 
 in his early years of that defective teaching of his oppo- 
 nents which culminates in positive ignorance, and absolute 
 negation, it was not surprising that to a negative dogma- 
 tism he was led to oppose what was positive and even 
 aggressive. 
 
 Here we would again remind our readers of the fact that 
 he never claimed to be a propounder of religious theories, 
 a theological professor. When he first commenced his 
 ministry, the scientific element in divinity had as little 
 ascendency in his thoughts as the mere question of ecclesi- 
 astical polity ; and even when it did present itself in due 
 course, it never engrossed his whole attention. His one 
 aim was to testify to the faith which he had so powerfully 
 realised in his own soul by openly avowing it, and, above 
 all, by declaring to his brethren, whom he believed to be 
 in soul-destroying error, the sovereign grace and eternal 
 salvation of a personal living God. For this purpose he 
 
HIS POSITION ESTIMATED. 239 
 
 adojjted the only formula within his reach — what had 
 been, in the society in which he moved, the latest embodi- 
 ment of the faith he was then experiencing. He found it 
 in " Pictet's Doctrinal Summary," and in the " Confession 
 of Faith of the Eeformed Churches of Holland." 
 
 It was not at the bidding of this theology, however — 
 so utterly antiquated in the opinion of the Genevese clergy, 
 but to him the expression of an eternal truth, — that he 
 gave forth his testimony. It was in the name of faith he 
 spoke, and not of orthodoxy. If he had recourse to the 
 systems of schoolmen, it was not for light to see how to 
 fight ; it was only for weapons with which to thrust back 
 the negations by which he was surrounded. This is the 
 only point of view from wliich to take a fair estimate, 
 not only of his dogmatism, but also of the real motives 
 which drove him from the Establishment, and also of his 
 after isolation from his non - conforming brethren in 
 Geneva. To those who accused him of schism with refer- 
 ence to the ]N"ational Church, he replied that his faith con- 
 strained him, at the cost of every other consideration, to 
 declare the eternal Godhead of the Lord Jesus. To such, 
 again, as appealed to him to go hand in hand with his 
 brethren, his answer was, that while he welcomed com- 
 munion with them as heirs together of the grace of God, 
 he considered himself bound to preserve the speciality of 
 his ministry, which was to proclaim the doctrine of re- 
 stricted election.* 
 
 Meanwhile, it remains for us to consider wlietlier ^lalan, 
 trained in another school of religious thought, would have 
 
 * He goes so far as to call himself "the minister of election by grace." — 
 Quatre-vlngt Jours, kc, p. 147. 
 
240 LIFE OF CJESJR MALAK 
 
 been equally well fitted for the work which had been given 
 him to do. If we recall to mind the atmosphere by which 
 he was surronnded, we do not think there can be any hesi- 
 tation on this point. The sentiment, not to say the senti- 
 mentality, of the author of the '" Imitation," Fenelon, or 
 Lavater, admirable as an expression of pious thought, and 
 mightily illustrating the manifold gi'ace of God, would 
 have failed utterly — indeed, it actually had failed — in com- 
 mon with every other attempt to deal effectually with the 
 heartless scepticism which, fifty years ago, had overrun 
 Geneva. That — in the present day, when a wide breach 
 has been effected in the fortress of infidelity, when no 
 hindrance offers itself to the promulgation of the doctrine 
 of a free salvation, and of the divinity of our Lord, from 
 the pulpits of our churches, when none would be held to 
 blame for propounding openly the most distinctive truths 
 in the apostolic teaching — that in such a day, zealous men 
 should show themselves anxious to enlarge upon the 
 gradual subjective appropriation of salvation, is not to be 
 wondered at. The more earnest, however, such efforts are, 
 the more will those who make them do justice to the bold 
 and powerful teaching which God employed to win them 
 leisure for their great meditation. 
 
 Meanwhile, it will be our wisdom, while we abstain 
 from disparaging Malan's gifts on account of his dogmatism, 
 to seek gratefully to avail ourselves of the inheritance 
 bequeathed to us by that faithful and devoted minister of 
 the gospel : but should we fear, on the other hand, with his 
 categorical formula of living faith in our hands, that 
 in listening to the servant's utterance, we run the risk of 
 becoming his disciples, we shall do well to remember that 
 
HIS OPINIONS. 241 
 
 we have one only Master, even Christ. At all events, let 
 us not be bacl^ward to recognise the place which belongs of 
 rioht to the confessor of the Lord Jesus, whenever, in the 
 present day, we are called upon to dissipate some special 
 error, or to throw light upon some special obscurity in the 
 faith. Let us admit the power with which he calls to, and 
 awakens slumbering souls ; with which he presses tliem — 
 we had almost said /orccs them — " to enter." In these re- 
 spects his place is clearly marked out as useful, glorious, 
 and great ; to refuse it to him would be wrong to the 
 Great Disposer Who raised him up at a special time to 
 serve His Church. 
 
 Passing on from his dogmatism, considered solely as the 
 general tendency of his mind, to the particular form which 
 it assumed ; in other words, to his definite opinions : it is 
 sufiicient to state that they were those of the old Pro- 
 testant orthodoxy, as embodied in the Confessions of the 
 Pieformed Churches, more particularly in those of the 
 Calvinistic Synod of Dordrecht in the seventeenth cen- 
 tury ;* in short, the strictest type of what is generally 
 Imown as Calvinistic Scholasticism. 
 
 We must observe, however, that it was by independent 
 ways, and through the close personal study of the Word, 
 that he arrived at these doctrinal views ; more particularly 
 must it be stated that he was not indebted for them to 
 his intercourse with Mr Ptobert Haldane. iSTot only, as w^e 
 have seen, had he arrived at his fixed opinions before 
 Haldane's visit ; but, so far was he from regarding himself 
 as a disciple of that truly apostolical man, that he did not 
 
 * He refers himself to that Synod as embodying his theological views. — 
 Qaatrc-viwjt Jours, &c., pp. 138, 403. 
 
 Q 
 
242 LIFE OF CJESAE MALAN. 
 
 even adopt Ins views on the subject of iDaptism. ]\Iore- 
 over, tliongli lie willingly read the writings, both of the 
 reformed doctors of the " Federalist School " of Holland (H. 
 Witsius in particular), and also of the English divines of 
 the "Westminster Assembly, as well as of the Noncon- 
 formists generally, with many others of the same kind, he 
 by no means gathered his opinions from their pages, 
 thouoli he studied them with interest as recordino- his 
 
 o o 
 
 own convictions. Above all, I know that he never read 
 Calvin, whom he resembled in the most characteristic 
 aspects of his religious thought, till long after his con- 
 victions had become indelible.* 
 
 He has often stated himself that it was Scripture alone 
 that enlightened him. It was not Haldane, but "the 
 finger of Haldane," that governed him with the sen- 
 tence, " How is it written ? how readest thou ?" which 
 that good man loved to repeat to his young friends. 
 Haldane was neither divine, scholar, nor theologian ; at 
 home in the history of theology, or accustomed to inves- 
 tigate it. He was not even an ecclesiastic. He was a 
 simple- believer, but one profoundly versed in the know- 
 ledge of the Word. Hence it is of far greater moment, in 
 determining the special influences which operated on my 
 
 *■ The follo%\'ing verses he wrote, as far back as 1820, under a portrait of 
 the lieformer which hung in the dining-room : — 
 
 *' Si nous voyons en toi ce qu'un docteur doit etre, 
 Et si nous admirons les dons que tu re^us ; 
 Comme nous serviteur, tu n'es pas notre Maitre, 
 Mais avec toi, Calvin ! nous adorons Jdsas." 
 
 *' While the great doctor in thy form we see. 
 And reverence the gifts thou didst receive ; 
 Servant like us, in spirit one with thee, 
 Great Calvin, to the Master pi'aise we give." 
 
UNCLOUDED TRUST. 243 
 
 father, to dwell upon tlie details of liis conversion, tlian to 
 specify this or that article of creed which might be found 
 clearly set forth in the history of Protestant Dogma. So 
 that it will be well for us now, without enterino; into 
 minute particulars, to consider, from a subjective point 
 of view, his ap23rehension of the great fact of salvation, to 
 the entire satisfying of the hunger and thirst of his soul. 
 
 What first arrested his attention was the truth, that the 
 initiative in the great work of salvation is to be ascribed 
 to the sovereign will of God ; or, as he expressed it, " the 
 free sovereignty of the grace of God." It was to this 
 supremely that he yielded his earliest homage, going no 
 farther, remaining transfixed with gratitude, and silent 
 with reverence. ~^o sooner had this view penetrated his 
 soul, and flooded it with light, than it governed and 
 absorbed his thoughts. Ever new as a theme for con- 
 templation, ever living as a fact of experience, this truth 
 of a God AVho loves, because it pleases Him to love, and 
 not because of anything attractive in the object of His 
 affection, AVhose love precedes all attractiveness and pro- 
 duces it ; this truth, be it understood, aroused and governed 
 the glowing activity of his piety, l^ever, from the moment 
 of his conversion, during his long career, through all the 
 difficulties, toils, and treacherous experiences with which 
 it abounded, not even in the last agony of death, did the 
 shadow of a doubt come across his j)erpetual sunshine. 
 
 All which is easily understood. Let the eye of the soul 
 be once fixed on God, and so be withdraAvn from the earth, 
 and it has before it only what can sustain, console, and 
 invigorate. That such was my father's happy experience 
 may with confidence be asserted. 
 
244 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAN. 
 
 And in making this statement I wisli to imply that, 
 even before what he himself called his conversion, faith 
 in the living presence of God, if not in His grace, the fear 
 of a personal and living God, was the ruling sentiment of 
 his being. Here was the rock on which, in obedience to 
 Christ's own words, he erected his faith. It was this holy 
 reverence that kept alive in his sonl his mother's pions 
 teachings, despite the temptations of yonth, and the freez- 
 inof oeneralities of his studies. These teachino-s had come 
 to him when she had made him read the Gospels at her 
 feet. Thus it happened that he afterwards recognised in 
 free salvation the work of that God and Saviour Whom, as 
 he was heard to say, he had preached when he knew Him 
 not. I would not for a moment suggest that this feeling 
 had, at its first uprising, brought liberty to his soul ; all I 
 wish to contend for is, that with him, in a manner more 
 marked than with the majority of others, it may be seen 
 how the fear of the Lord was the beginning of wisdom. 
 
 At all events, this clear, definite apprehension, this indel- 
 ible, personal experience of the free grace of a living God, 
 lay at the bottom of all his after work, whetlier as preacher, 
 missionary, or religious author. 
 
 In meditation on this truth, to him ever new, he armed 
 himself for controversial encounters,* while from it he de- 
 rived those principles which imparted vigour to his morality.t 
 
 * The destruction of every heresy and falsehood is to be found in the 
 entire accomplishment of the work of salvation, in the expiation wrought 
 by Christ. Hence it is that Rome denies and rejects it with the greatest 
 animosity. — Quatrc-iingt Jours, &c., p. 279- Compare also p. 127, and 
 the whole of his method of controversy. 
 
 + He makes gratitude the exclusive basis of tlie whole moral life of the 
 believer. Is not the possession of a crown worth some reforms ? And when 
 once that crown has jbeen given lis, shall we sacritice it to frivolous trifles, 
 or to low and impure instincts ? — lOid. p. 370. 
 
ANOTHER ELEMENT IN HIS PROTEST. 245 
 
 This central experience of liis faitli is to be detected even 
 in his hymns, where, if he does not teach it, he avows it, 
 and is never tired of celebrating it. 
 
 It was this experience of free salvation which presented 
 itself not as the reward of imperfect efforts, but as an act 
 of sovereign and nnlooked-for favour to a Avandering soul, 
 blind and lost; it was this blessed revelation which led 
 him to rest in Jesus, not as a Helper merely, but as a 
 Saviour. Thus it was that he meditated in adoring grati- 
 tude on the omnipotent and essentially divine character of 
 the Atonement. Thus he apprehended, in its supreme im- 
 portance, the eternal divinity of the Saviour, to the con- 
 fession of which truth he sacrificed, with all he had, the 
 dreams and ambitions of his youth. 
 
 Here also we must judge of his doctrines by the ten- 
 dency against which he was called upon to protest. In 
 Geneva, as well as in the rest of the Protestant world, 
 men of faith and piety even had gradually withdrawn from 
 what will ever constitute the special and glorious character 
 of the great religious revival of the sixteenth century. 
 Under the influence of a dogmatical reaction, into the 
 history of which we cannot enter here, the justification of 
 the soul had gradually come to be represented, not as 
 having been wholly accomplished by eternal love, but as 
 being, even according to the divine purpose, the result of 
 the faith of the believer, and of his regeneration by faith. 
 Thus, even in the teaching of men of the most exem- 
 plary piety, that triumphant assurance which had been 
 the strength of Luther or Calvin had gradually been re- 
 placed by the anxious pre-occupations of a humility falsely 
 so called, and by the hesitations of a religious morality 
 
246 LIFE OF C^FSAR MALAN, 
 
 wliicli liad no really firm basis, and no absolute value. 
 These considerations are well calculated to show us the 
 great importance of his special teaching. 
 
 Finally, if we remember that Malan, with all who hold 
 the reformed faith, never for a moment supposed the pos- 
 sibility of the extension beyond the limits of this present 
 life of God's saving work towards man, if we remember 
 too, that, in consequence of his dogmatism, he never 
 deemed it possible for a work of grace to commence in any 
 soul — that soul remaining unconscious of its operation — 
 we shall be in a position to understand how it was that 
 his belief in the divine sovereignty led him to the special 
 dogma which characterised his teaching, in other words, to 
 that reiterated affirmation of restricted election, or of in- 
 dividual predestination, as we find it stated in the writings 
 of the reformed divines of the seventeenth century. 
 
 According to his view, this doctrine, as set forth in the 
 "Word, was no mere declaration, that when any man comes 
 to a knowledge of salvation, he is warranted, nay, even 
 required, to believe that his salvation is the issue of a pre- 
 existing, fixed purpose of God. Xor was it simply an 
 affirmation that tliis fact, in virtue of which the man is 
 then elected amongst others, so far from remaining a 
 matter of indifference to him, involves actually a privilege 
 deliberately conferred, and with it a solemn responsibility. 
 He saw in the doctrine of election far more than this. 
 With him it was a formal declaration that when a man 
 received by faith the revelation of salvation in Christ, not 
 only had he touched the threshold of a new life with new 
 responsibilities, but he had also been the subject of a \)qx- 
 sonal decree from God Who had deigned to choose him 
 
VIEWS OF ELECTION. 247 
 
 by a personal election, and that the divine pnrpose thus 
 apprehended, his salvation is set forth to him as already 
 effected, and as calling only for his future gratitude and 
 praise. 
 
 In his judgment the knowledge of the gospel was not 
 only set forth by the apostles as a providential fact, which 
 ought as such to attract our earnest attention ; he held to a 
 positive assertion that the return of a Avandering soul to 
 Christ issued inevitably in its salvation, inasmuch as con- 
 version is the work of God Himself, and, from the first, of 
 God alone. The presence of faith in a believer appeared 
 to him miraculous, and demanding assurance, on the part 
 of the subject of it, — with regard to the proof it supplied of 
 divine oj^eration, — that his salvation was already accom- 
 plished, completely, irrevocably, from the very day, in short, 
 when Christ died upon the cross. Of course, in arguing 
 tlms, he referred not to mere historical knowledge of 
 evangelical truth, but to its living apprehension in the 
 heart. This point, however, once set at rest, he never 
 scrupled to recognise in sucli a living faith the issue of a 
 special pnrpose, a personal decree, and a fore-ordained 
 irresistible act of God Himself; and, as far as its subject 
 was concerned, a direct revelation to him of a salvation 
 wrought out and irrevocably determined long before. So 
 that God cannot be said actually to save a soul at the 
 moment of its return to Him. He does but announce to it, 
 by the faith He imparts, its place long ago established 
 among the ranks of the saved. This faith. His gift, is not 
 only the life of that soul; it is its pledge of safety: — 
 the evidence proving, not that it is one of those given each 
 day by the Father to the Son, but that it is one of that 
 
248 LIFE OF CJESAFo MALAN. 
 
 limited niimlDer, purcliased once for all by the Son's eternal 
 sacrifice. 
 
 Hence, it follows that the believer is expected to 
 seek out this hidden force of the new life, rather in 
 the revelation which his faith procures for him than 
 in his faith itself; rather in the assurance of salvation 
 than in the daily exercise of an ever fresh act of belief ; 
 in short, rather in the liveliness of his gratitude than 
 the activity of his trust. With jMalan the new life was 
 the result rather than the extension of salvation. The 
 safety of each soul he held to be absolutely secured 
 from the first, and from without. "Either such a soul 
 is saved," he never hesitated to affirm, " or it never will 
 be." And since, according to his idea, faith would never 
 fail to be accompanied by an illuminated understanding, 
 it naturally followed that it was in the power of each one 
 to ascertain whether he was or was not a child of God, and 
 that, allowing for human fallibility, it was possible to dis- 
 cern even here, with reference to others, not only between 
 one whom God has already called to Himself, and another 
 to whom that call has yet to come, — but even more, between 
 the soul loved and saved from all eternity and the soul 
 which, if it believe not in this present life, is for ever 
 excluded from all hope of salvation. 
 
 Such opinions were not likely to remain long unchal- 
 lenged. Aiming at the honour of God, they appeared fatal 
 to that liberty of the creature, which after all constitutes 
 one of the conspicuous glories of the Creator. An attack 
 upon them was all the more inevitable, because their 
 author, in the intensity of his conviction, sought every 
 opportunity of promulgating them. 
 
 I 
 
HIS TEACHING ASSAILED. 249 
 
 During tlie greater part of tlie controversy, however, his 
 opponents gave him fair play. In short, with tlie excep- 
 tion of a very few who went so far as to assert, with refer- 
 ence to a man whose life would have been his best acquittal 
 from the charge, that he was ''an unprincipled antinomian," 
 — the attack was directed solely against that side of his 
 teaching, which affirms the absolute freedom and initiative 
 sovereignty of God.* 
 
 Here was the point wherein the truth and holiness of his 
 opinions were gathered ; here, too, the aspect under which 
 they revealed themselves, with increasing clearness, to his 
 religious faith. Moreover, the objections urged against 
 him in this quarter, could not fail to recall to a man, 
 nourished up as he was in the Word of God, the similar 
 
 * At the commencement of this chapter, I referred to M. de Press^nse's 
 criticism on my father's doctrines. I now allude to such accusations as 
 assailed his personal life. 
 
 The expression I employed in the text is borne out hy many passages in 
 Bost's Memoirs, referring to my father. As this book has been noticed in 
 England, I must be allowed to enter somewhat into detail. 
 
 He applies to my father's doctrines the epithet loose, (" des doctrines 
 relachees," vol. i. page 87 of the French edition.) And what shows that he 
 means to attribute that character to the man as well as to his writings, is 
 the fact that he explains the discussions between Malan's congregation and 
 that of the Bourg de Four, as arising out of "vile money questions," ("de 
 honteuses questions d'argent.") As he immediately adds that the pastors 
 of the Bourg de Four did not receive any remuneration for their services, 
 the entire odium of the remark falls upon the opposite side. 
 
 It may suffice, by way of I'eply, to recall what has been stated in the 
 former chapter about the annual sum my father received from his congrega- 
 tion during twenty-five out of the forty-five years of his ministry. It would 
 be easy to add abundant documentary evidence, showing how he toiled 
 himself, that he might be able to help the needy of his flock, never resting 
 until his benevolent purpose was accomplished. But any one Avho knew him 
 personally, knew him to be conspicuous for his generosity, disinterestedness, 
 and real superiority as regards those money questions which play so weari- 
 some and incessant a part in Bost's INIemoirs. 
 
 But dismissing this point, and dealing simply with the censure which the 
 
250 LIFE OF CjESAB MALAN. 
 
 experiences of the Apostle Paul, thus leading him to accept 
 this opposition as an absolute sanction of his doctrine. 
 
 The only point to which his attention ought to have 
 been directed was, not the mystery of the absolute liberty 
 of the divine will, since that (though beyond the reach of 
 syllogism) is even further beyond the reach of doubt. 
 Truly his opponents should have contented themselves 
 with the peculiar side of that question which belongs to 
 our human experience ; in other words, to that kind of re- 
 sponsibility which, not the eternal will, but the historical 
 action of the Supreme Being imposes upon its human object. 
 
 In proof that, by those regarding the question of destiny 
 from this point of view, a common understanding n:iight 
 easily have been arrived at, it may be remarked, tliat 
 Malan never presses his doctrine on this head to its 
 legitimate detailed j^ractical conclusions. That doctrine 
 
 book pronounces on my father's doctrines, it scarcely comes well from one 
 who, even in his old age, admits that he is unable to shake off the hesitation 
 and doubts which unsettled his mind in his youth, (i. 245 ; ii. 63.) 
 
 Passing over numerous other passages of direct accusation and indirect 
 inuendos, I notice one sentence which seems to explain many of them. He 
 tells us, (i. 404), " that both in Geneva and abroad they attributed the 
 whole revival to Malan.'" "In Geneva and abroad," they were undoubt- 
 edly very wrong, they ijhould have referred it to God alone. Malan invari- 
 ably did. 
 
 Shf)uld any of my readers wish for a fuller review of these volumes, they 
 will meet with one of singular ability in the Record newspaper, November 
 28, 1855, and November 30, 1860. 
 
 As to my father's judgment on a work whose author he had so intimately 
 known, I quote an extract from a letter he wrote to a friend, in December 
 1855: " I have not read Bost's Memoirs. I have received from different 
 persons requests that I would answer sundry assertions which my friend 
 has put forth. But I prefer leaving this and many other things to Him 
 Who knows the truth as regards this series of incidents and writings. I 
 have greater things to do at the end of the week than to rescue from impu- 
 tation the work I have done in the course of it. To the Master, and to the 
 Master alone, I commit the task of judging it." 
 
MEEKNESS IN CONTROVERSY. 251' 
 
 remained the natural and necessary expression of the 
 obedient adoration of his heart, and therefore produced no 
 other result than humility and thankfulness, the two most 
 prominent elements in the activity of true piety. 
 
 As to the inevitable influence of his teaching, on his judg- 
 ment and conduct towards others, those who knew him 
 best will remember the temperate sobriety which charac- 
 terised his discussions. JSTot only was he never seen to 
 manifest a Pharisee's self-righteous pride or a fatalist's 
 indifference, but it will be in the recollection of many how, 
 while from the pulpit he appeared to delight in enlarging 
 on the vilencss of the creature, he showed himself privately 
 ever ready to think and hope the best of all, and to mani- 
 fest a spirit of universal and most sincere charity. ]S"or will 
 such forget how easily his sympathy and esteem were 
 secured ; and, above all, how careful he was not to pass 
 judgment upon others. 
 
 As far as regards the central point in his views, I have 
 precious recollections of long and intimate conversations, 
 in which, especially in his closing years, I found myself 
 often hurrying on before him, expatiating upon the infinite 
 mercy of God, and the presumption of seeking to fathom 
 the divine counsels. Sometimes he would add a word. 
 One day' — can I ever forget it ? — after having listened to 
 me in silence (it was on the occasion of a visit I paid him, 
 shortly after the death of one of my children) he stopped 
 suddenly as we were walking on ; then raising his head, 
 and fixing his ardent gaze upon me, grasped my hand in 
 deep emotion, and withdrew, thoughtful and silent. 
 
 Of course, such recollections are only significant to 
 myself. But what will have been universally noted by 
 
"252 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAK 
 
 those ^\\\o knew Iiim, vras that persevering, patient, and 
 devoted activity, that life marked throughout by charity 
 and courage ; marked, too, from first to last, by that passion 
 for the salvation of souls in which, as has been demon- 
 strated by no feeble pen, resided the grandeur and glory of 
 those men of the revival, among whom my father was one 
 of the mightiest and m.ost prominent. And this shows the 
 fallacy of that charge of self-confident fatalism urged with 
 such complacency, from time to time, against those who 
 professed their faith in the election of grace. 
 
 I cannot undertake to say whether my father's friends 
 share in my impression. But the spectacle of his living 
 theism, which revealed to him on all hands the direct, 
 actual personal w^ork of God Himself — of his authority, 
 courage, and utter clearness in teaching; of his convic- 
 tions, so resolutely practical and uncompromising ; of his 
 faith, circumscribed indeed, but ever watchful and con- 
 stant ; and lastly, of the special use which he made of the 
 text of the Word — the spectacle of all this, I say, has 
 often made him appear to me like one filled with the 
 peculiar spirit of the prophets and faithful of the Old 
 Testament, rather than that which characterised the dis- 
 ciples of the Xew. Descended directly from the old 
 Huguenots, the latest son of the Geneva of Refugees and 
 Confessors, his grand form, slowly disappearing from the 
 horizon of the religious world, so levelled and so super- 
 ficial, has ever appeared to me the type of an essentially 
 theocratic character. With him the kingdom of God, 
 however invisible to sense, was to be realised directly in 
 practical experience; separation from the world was no 
 mere preservation from evil, it was to be illustrated in the 
 
" THOU ART MY GOD ! " 253 
 
 acts and habits of common life. The service of God was 
 blended, in his eyes, with his daily history and deeds, his 
 opinions, and special duties ; extending itself, moreover, 
 to the minutest detail of ordinary existence. Hence, it 
 came to pass that, isolated as he was from all ecclesiastical 
 ties, he remained, notwithstanding the romantic enthu- 
 siasm of his temperament, and the ardour of his imagina- 
 tion, a practical, consistent, energetic believer ; thus it was 
 that he escaped, on the one hand, the perils of a frigid 
 intellectualism, as well as of mere visionary abstraction or 
 sentimental pietism, on the other. For this he was kept in 
 that living holiness which has its spring in an abiding 
 realisation of an ever-present living God ; that apprehen- 
 sion of the divine will as sovereign and absolute; that 
 confidence in the divine love, the reality of which is in 
 no way dependent on the manner in whicli our human 
 feeling comes to acknowledge its greatness. To sum up, — 
 that perfect clearness of understanding, that inextinguish- 
 able assurance, arrived at only by those who have a 
 believing view of a salvation perfected for them, and 
 despite their utter unworthiness. 
 
 Satisfied with having thus dwelt on the' central principle 
 — the ruling thought, if I may so term it — in his system 
 of faith, and referring my readers for details of his views 
 to his numerous writings, I shall confine myself, in what 
 remains of this memoir, to exliibiting him as a witness 
 for the truth — a gospel missionary. In this capacity 
 supremely he displayed the resources of that Christian life, 
 the hidden mystery of which defies analysis or exposure, 
 and which exhibited itself in his case, invested ^Y\i\\ all the 
 lustre and endowments of an attractive and powerfid nature. 
 
CHAPTEE 11. 
 
 EVANGELISATION IN GENEVA, AND OTHER COUNTPJES. 
 
 Sow blessed seed, in hope 
 
 Its precious fruit to see — 
 In God's OA\Ti good appointed time ; 
 
 That is the time for thee ! 
 
 The year 1830 was a decisive date in my father's liistory. 
 "Whilst his private life and that of his family expanded, 
 while his testimony came by degrees to exercise a definite 
 influence, and even to hold a fixed place in the public 
 life of Geneva, he continued to occupy an increasingly 
 isolated position in that section of the religious world iden- 
 tified with the revivaL This circumstance was, however, 
 largely compensated for by the growing activity which he 
 displayed both in Geneva as a witness and defender of 
 gospel truth, and abroad as a preacher and missionary. 
 
 In 1829 he bought a piece of ground adjoining his pro- 
 perty, and added it to the garden lie had occupied up to 
 that time, in which his chapel stood. Then he exchanged 
 a small abode on the jDublic road for a much more con- 
 venient dwelling, in the centre of a large walled enclosure. 
 There, for thirty-five years, he lived with his numerous 
 family in a retreat which, situated though it was in the 
 
JOY IN THE DWELLING OF THE lUGHTEOUS. 255 
 
 immediate vicinity of tlie town, was nevertheless entirely 
 withdrawn from the tumult and excitement of the outer 
 world. Sufficiently extensive to afford us good air, exer- 
 cise, and even privacy, with flower-borders and orchards 
 adjoining, and fresh and peaceful shades, — this garden of 
 the Pre-Beni, with its chapel and school, was, as it were, to 
 us a sort of world in itself, in which the cliildhood and 
 youth of the youngest of us were passed ; while with it our 
 father's life in Geneva was more exclusively associated. 
 Subsequently, as we began to drop off, and establish our- 
 selves in foreign countries, his position became gradually 
 isolated. At the time of which we are speaking, however, it 
 did but secure to him that entire liberty which he increas- 
 ingly needed for his various undertakings. There, too, it 
 was that he displayed the greatest vigour and activity. 
 
 Surrounded by his children ; his once often-failing health 
 now gradually recruited ; he received visits more frequently 
 than ever from strangers distinguished for their personal 
 piety, or for the place they occupied in the religious world. 
 Yet he could not but feel painfully conscious of his isolated 
 position with reference to his Genevese brethren. After 
 having withdraAvn, unhesitatingly, and even witli a certain 
 eagerness, from a clergy which appeared to him to oppose 
 gospel truth, he felt himself constrained, to the end of his 
 life, to stand more or less apart from those whom he 
 regarded as his brethren in the faith. 
 
 AVe have just seen how his position, in reference to those 
 whose work had preceded his in the first revival, may be 
 explained. As for the new movement which has been 
 occasionally styled the second evangelical revival in Geneva, 
 my father had watched it from its birth. Its success was 
 
256 LIFE OF C^FSAR MALAN. 
 
 ill a great measure due to the decisive spirit in which he 
 had originated it * Yet these men, honouring as they did, 
 in his person, the decided testimony to evangelical truth, 
 never thought of uniting themselves to him for the work 
 which they inaugurated with so much enthusiasm. It 
 was evident, especially during the earliest years, that they 
 carefully avoided anything which might lead to the opinion 
 that their operations were connected with his. 
 
 At first glance, it would seem surprising that this could 
 have been the case. As a matter of fact, the establish- 
 ment of the Evangelical Society in 1831, with its oratories, 
 and soon afterwards with its school of theology, was but in 
 reality, after all, — with such a wider scope as a com- 
 mittee composed chiefly of laymen and men influenced by 
 their position could avail for, — the realisation of what had 
 been undertaken fifteen years before by the young ministers 
 of the first revival, and more particularly by my father. 
 
 Moreover — to refer only to the later movement — none of 
 the men who were at the head of it refused him their 
 esteem and respect. He was even personally connected 
 with the three ecclesiastics whose names had already secured 
 well-merited fame. We have heard him say that Galland 
 and Gaussen had been the friends and models of his youth, 
 As for INIerle D'Aubigne, who had just arrived from abroad, 
 he put himself into immediate communication with my 
 father, and continued to be to him, and to his family after 
 him, an invariably kind and faithful friend. 
 
 * ISI. Gaussen remarked to my mother at the time, in reply to her expres- 
 sions of sympathy with reference to the difficulties he was experiencing, 
 " What are they when compared with those which your dear husband has 
 been called upon to encounter ! He broke up the path iu which we are 
 simply called upon to follow." 
 
" THE OBATORY:' 257 
 
 Malan, on his part, so far from standing aloof from all 
 tliat was going on, recognised the first beginnings of the 
 revival, and followed all its vicissitudes with the liveliest 
 interest. He was identified with it in heart and thonoht 
 by his prayers, and by the many testimonies of his 
 brotherly regard. For him and his, the establishment of the 
 Oratory had been a great event — the expansion of our sphere 
 of daily life, till then painfully contracted — the end of years 
 in which their name alone had placed them outside all social 
 relations in this little country. From its commencement, 
 he sent his children to the new meetings, just as after- 
 wards, on several occasions, he made his sons follow the 
 course of the new school All these things considered, 
 however, it was but natural that his relations, in the 
 earliest years of the movement, especially with the Evan- 
 gelical Society, should be limited to simple personal inter- 
 course. When it started, indeed, the congregation of the 
 Oratory was in precisely the same position with regard to 
 the National Church as that assumed by my father before 
 1824; in other words, while, in the matter of preaching, it 
 was separated, in every other respect it continued with it. 
 So that it felt the importance of carefully avoiding any 
 course that might tend to change the position it desired to 
 maintain into one of open secession. 
 
 It is true that in 1835, by celebrating the Lord's 
 Supper, it took the fu'st step towards the establishment of 
 a distinct church. But the men who directed its affairs 
 had no desire, even at that time, to be confounded with 
 the small Church of Testimony, which was held to be in a 
 position of ultra dissent. ^loreover, the members of the 
 new church belonged to quite a different class of society 
 
258 LIFE OF CyFSAE MALAK 
 
 from that wliicli had recruited the ranks of the movers in 
 the first revivah 
 
 That work, indeed, had stood in no need whatever of 
 external support. Having from the very outset developed 
 considerable proportions, it soon became the centre of the 
 religious evangelical movement in Geneva, and of a more 
 extended mission abroad. Union with my father, espe- 
 cially, so far from presenting itself to the founders of the 
 Evangelical Society as a step likely to add a new element 
 of power to the influence they already exercised, coidd 
 appear to them in no other light than as a measure useless 
 in itself, and which would have inevitably compromised 
 them. 
 
 The fact is, that neither my father nor the men of the 
 evangelical party dreamt of it. We have seen what his 
 sentiments were on this point, and how he held to the 
 view that it was wrong to destroy that diversity which, in 
 his eyes, was the expression of a divine j)urpose, for the 
 sake of building up external unity. Besides, in this 
 special case, his convictions with regard to attentive dis- 
 cipline of a flock, and, above all, his scruples on that 
 subject which constituted in his eyes the purity of evan- 
 gelical dogma, would have of themselves sufficed to pre- 
 vent his uniting with his brethren of the Evangelical 
 Society, except in the mutual interchange of fraternity and 
 regard : — a union which subsisted between them from the 
 very beginning, increasing year by year. 
 
 Afterwards, undoubtedly, in 1849, when the congi^ega- 
 tion of the Oratory, which, for fourteen years had com- 
 municated outside the National Church, showed a desire 
 to unite themselves with the old seceders for the sake of 
 
HOME WORK. 259 
 
 forming jointly an Evangelical Church of Geneva, it 
 might have been reasonably expected that the Egiise du 
 Temoignage, reduced as it was to a very small number, 
 would be unwillini:^ to hold back from a movement which 
 was uniting all those in Geneva with whom it was in 
 communion. We shall see, when the time comes, why 
 it remained separate. 
 
 Let us revert for a moment to the time immediately 
 following the crisis which marked the history of that 
 small con2;reL>ation in 1830. 
 
 When its founder saw his work, as a pastor, suddenly 
 diminished in importance, he redoubled his activity as a 
 preacher and gospel witness at Geneva and abroad. This, 
 with his literary labours, which were never interrupted, 
 constituted from that time the occupation of his life. Let 
 us turn our present attention, therefore, to his work in 
 Geneva, beginning with a description of what he was, 
 for more than thirty yea.rs, as a preacher in his own 
 chapel. 
 
 It was, as we have already seen, in ISTovember 1818 that 
 he began to preside over the small "meetings" which 
 were forming around him, after his exclusion from the 
 national pulpit. From that time, up to November 1863, 
 (that is, for forty-five years,) he never passed a single Sun- 
 day (with a few rare exceptions, when he was ill, or on an 
 evangelising tour) without mounting the pulpit, at first 
 three times a-day ; while he continued the weekly prayer- 
 meetings, till fatigue and the infirmities of age compelled 
 him to give them up. 
 
 In his earlier days, especially before his chapel was 
 built, in 1820, he held four of these meetings a-week. 
 
260 LIFE OF CjFSAE MALAN. 
 
 After 1830 lie reduced the number to two, and eventually 
 to one, wliicli he continued till he settled at Vandoeuvres 
 ' in 1859. These prayer -meetings were devoted to familiar 
 expositions of the Scriptures. 
 
 It would be difi&cult to form an idea of his activity as a 
 preacher. I have before me his MS. notes of all his 
 sermons from 1818 to 1821, from which it appears that 
 that which he delivered on the occasion of the dedication 
 of his chapel w^as his one hundred and eighty-seventh. In 
 this, we may almost say that he resembled such men as 
 Whitfield and Wesley in England, or Gossner and Lindl, 
 his contemporaries, in Catholic Germany. N"ot only dur- 
 ing his missionary journeys was he called upon to preach 
 several days in succession, and several times a-day, but in 
 Geneva even, he had, in addition to the afternoon sermon 
 in which he addressed himself to a mixed congregation, a 
 more elementary and more methodised exposition in the 
 form of a catechism.* This service, though particularly 
 intended for the young, was none the less regularly 
 attended by numerous adults. At its close, (it was held 
 at ten) a " pastoral assembly " met — comprising, generally, 
 members of the Church, gathered for his exhortations, or 
 mutual edification.f Then, too, he had an evening ser- 
 
 * I find, for instance, in his French mission in 1830, he preached fifty 
 times before he reached Perpignan, from the 12th April to the 31st of 
 May, while in his mission to the same county in 1841 he preached one 
 hundred and fifty-four times from the 3d of February to the 30th May. 
 (See Quatre-vingt Jours d'un Missionaire, p. 338.) Let me observe here 
 that he seldom gave tlie same sermon twice (I only find one "or two 
 instances of his doing so), and it will be seen what pains he must have 
 taken in his daily preparation. 
 
 + The deacons' meetings, when the business of the Church was dis- 
 cussed in his presence, were held during the week. 
 
CONSCIENTIOUS PREPARATION. 2G1 
 
 vice wliicli he held during the first years of his ministry 
 in the asylum already referred to. On the first Sunday of 
 each month he celebrated the communion, generally after 
 the morning service. In addition to this, for a long 
 period, several of the surrounding families having ex- 
 pressed a wish to participate in his family worship, he met 
 them every morning in summer in his chapel at eight 
 o'clock, and in the winter in his schoolroom. 
 
 It would not be the truth to infer from this vast activity, 
 that he was comparatively careless in preparing his dis- 
 courses. At first he never entered the pulpit without 
 having previously written the whole of his discourse. 
 Soon after 1821 he found he had not time for this, so he 
 contented himself with noting down the heads, writing 
 only the most important passages. Later still, when he 
 was led to pure extempore preaching, he never failed to 
 prepare for it by a long period of meditation and prayer. 
 However great his facility of utterance might be, however 
 small the number of his hearers, his preaching ever 
 appeared to him the most important act of his life. I 
 frequently find in his notes of travel, at the moment when 
 he is called upon to preach, a few words, occasionally a 
 prayer, a lifting of the soul to God, which betray the 
 depth of his feelings with regard to this duty. He 
 prepared even tlie few words he addressed to us, night and 
 morning, in family worship. As for his public preacliing, 
 the feelings I have referred to never weakened in intensity, 
 not even during those years when Sunday after Sunday 
 he addressed but a very small congregation, composed 
 invariably of the same persons. 
 
 Did he appear in the pulpit as the minister and witness 
 
262 LIFE OF C.FJSAB MALAN. 
 
 of Jesus Christ, it was because lie began by thoroughly 
 realising that he actually was such : and to tlie very end 
 of his life no one would have ventured to intrude into his 
 study during the hours immediately preceding his pulpit 
 ministrations. To this, too, must be attributed his invari- 
 able custom of never taking a meal till after his last 
 service, when he joined, for the first time, the family 
 circle. 
 
 His very appearance in the pulpit was, in itself, remark- 
 able. The calm and serene dignity of his demeanour, the 
 animation of his expression, the placid and benevolent 
 seriousness of his striking figure, — everything in short about 
 him, arrested and riveted the attention. As soon as he 
 opened his lips his hearers felt swayed, in spite of them- 
 selves, by such a voice as enchains an audience, not so 
 much by the depth of its volume as by its clear sympa- 
 thetic tones. Even before he spoke the very sight of his 
 noble head, with its early and abundant snow-white hair, 
 never failed to attract attention, when, after slowly passing 
 up the chapel, he mounted with thouglitful and measured 
 tread the pulpit steps. 
 
 After silent meditation, sometimes tolerably long, he 
 commenced the service by his invariable invocation — 
 " Que notre aide soit au nom de Dieu, le Pere, le Fils, et 
 le Sainte Esprit. Amen ! " * After reading the com- 
 mandments and the beautiful confession of sins in use in 
 
 * " Our lielp is in the name of the Lord, the Father, the Son, and the 
 Holy Ghost. Amen." MaUxn had from the first substituted this formula 
 for the one in ordinary use in our churches, " Our heli3 is in the name of 
 God Who created heaven and earth ! " This substitution was, accordintj to 
 his idea, a kind of profession of that faith in the doctrine of the Trinity for 
 which he considered he had been called upon to suffer. 
 
m THE PULPIT. 2G3 
 
 our cliurclies, lie gave out one of his hymns, beginning to 
 sing it generally himself, with a voice easily audible above 
 the roll of the organ, and the strains of the congregation. 
 Then followed a brief extempore prayer, and a portion of 
 Scripture, before he announced his text and began his 
 sermon/^ 
 
 His manner and delivery were natural, grave, pro- 
 foundly earnest, and often enkindling and awe-inspiring : 
 he was never affected or pompous. Exhibiting, in his 
 whole mode of utterance, the perfect reality of his charac- 
 ter, he avoided stereotyped phraseology, and never in- 
 dulged in that sing-song, artificial tone of declamation, 
 enough of itself to alienate the sympathies of the most 
 favourably disposed congregation. To quote a favourite 
 expression of the sainted Vinet, "he spoke, he did not 
 preach." His exposition was always brief, rapid, and clear. 
 Confining himself, as a rule, to indicating the idea which, 
 as he used to say, preceded in his mind the proposition 
 which formed the subject of his discourse, he would 
 designate in a third point the consequences which the 
 acceptance of that proposition involved. These three 
 points thus laid down, he expanded them one after 
 another with greater elaborateness than variety, which 
 failed, however, to weary his hearers, because he never 
 gave way to repetitions in the same discourse. His 
 addresses received attention, if not by an invariable suc- 
 cession of new ideas, at least by his perfect intelligibility 
 as well as by the uniform clearness and precision with 
 
 * This form of worship has just been adopted in the Church of Geneva ; 
 the only difference, at that time, consisted in the reading of a portion of 
 Scripture by the preacher himself. 
 
2G4 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAK 
 
 which his thoughts travelled to the mark indicated from 
 the first. As a rule, it was not till after his three points 
 had been discussed that he appealed directly to his hearers. 
 Giving free scope to a powerful conviction, he became 
 from that moment urgent, glorious, and vehement. Then 
 it was especially that the orator betrayed himself — more 
 than that, the popular orator — never, in his judgment, to 
 be confounded with a careless, irreverent, or vulgar 
 preacher. The sermon ended, there followed a prayer, 
 taken for many years from the old liturgy of our churches. 
 He then gave out a hymn, and, when the singing was over, 
 dismissed the congregation."' Such was the form of pub- 
 lic worship in the " Egiise du Temoignage." Though 
 after 1830 the number of regular worshippers had 
 diminished, the congregation continued to comprise, 
 especially during the summer, a large number of strangers. 
 The sanctuary was pervaded by a refreshing atmosphere of 
 silent adoration. Everything contributed to this ; — the 
 jDOsition in the midst of a quiet garden, the habit of 
 silence which my father had from the very first carefully 
 impressed upon his congregation.i* the style of the hymns 
 sung there, and the manner in which they were sung, 
 
 * As a rule, it was the beautiful doxolo2:y, " Agneau de Dieu, par Tes 
 langueurs," (" Lamb of God, by Thy sufferings,") composed by himself in 
 1819 or 1820, which the congregation sung standing without the organ. 
 That doxology was afterwards adopted by the National Churches of French 
 Switzerland, who retained the beautiful air which he composed for it, but 
 without its slow and solemn rhythm. 
 
 + Thus he interdicted all talking, even in the lowest possible tones, in the 
 house of God. More than once a conversation, or whispering, or any want 
 of decorum in his hearers, drew from him either a significant look or a 
 sudden pause in his sermon — sometimes even a direct admonition from the 
 pulpit. If any one went to sleep he did not hesitate, in the most natural 
 manner, to request a neighbour to arouse him. 
 
A COMMUNION SUNDAY. 265 
 
 contrasting so forcibly with those in use in the ISTational 
 Churches — above all, the profound seriousness and unre- 
 mitting earnestness which breathed through the preacher's 
 words — everything combined to produce the spectacle of a 
 congregation, sometimes of a very mixed character, leaving 
 the worshi23 of God Sunday after Sunday with no trace of 
 eagerness, the result of fatigue impatiently endured, no 
 hubbub of a thousand voices, in reaction from the monoto- 
 nous tones of a minister, but, on the contrary, in that 
 thouo-htful silence indicative of the universal desire to 
 
 o 
 
 retain in its integrity the deep impression that had been 
 produced. 
 
 Thus it was that, through a long succession of years, 
 the Church of Testimony saw many happy days, while it 
 remained, to the very end, the scene of sacred emotions 
 and much spiritual blessing. As an example, apart from 
 my own recollections, I will give my readers an account of 
 a communion Sunday at "■ Pre-Bcni." It is derived from 
 a recently published narrative by Dr A. Ostertag, of the 
 Missionary Institute of Bale, of a visit he paid my father, 
 for a few days, in 1836.* 
 
 As I shall have occasion shortly to recur to this descrip- 
 tion (as striking from its evident truthfulness as from the 
 courteous sympathy which it breathes), I will content my- 
 self at present with a short extract — 
 
 " It was on the 4tli of September that Llalan gave us a 
 truly exalted sermon on the kingdom of Christ ; and, on 
 the afternoon of the same day, an even more striking dis- 
 course, full of rare unction, on the words, 'Iicjoice, that 
 
 * It appeared in the number, for March 1867, of the *' Bibelbliitter " of 
 the Evangelical Mission Magazine of Bale. 
 
266 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 your names are written in heaven.' But my ricliest 
 experience was reserved for this same Sunday, which was 
 that of the monthly communion. 
 
 "Intending to participate in the rite, I entered the 
 chapel (its windows gleaming through the trees of the 
 garden) with a heart j^i'ofoundly drawn towards God, the 
 mighty and living God. The congregation was singularly 
 numerous. I was motioned, in common with an English 
 clergyman, who happened to be visiting the place, to take 
 my place on a reserved seat. 
 
 " The preacher commenced by wishing us all ' the grace 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellow- 
 ship of the Holy Ghost' After a short and earnest 
 prayer he read the 15th of St John ; then, in a few words 
 of most spiritual exposition, he pointed out to us what the 
 Saviour said of the love which His disciples should cherish 
 towards Himself. This opening portion of the worship) 
 closed with a fervent prayer, breathing confession, trust, 
 and thanksgiving. Then, after reading the words of the 
 institution of the Supper from 1 Cor. xi., he gave a brief 
 explanation of the Sacrament, based upon the Calvinistic 
 view, which approaches closely to the Lutheran. 
 
 " Then taking the bread in his hand, he broke it, invoking 
 the name of God ; he next approached the English clergy- 
 man and myself, and spoke to us of blessed and holy com- 
 munion with Christ, of fidelity in the pastoral work, and 
 of brotherly love ; after which he gave us the bread, then 
 the cup, — partaking with us. The recollection of that 
 moment will never leave me, so full was it of heavenly 
 light and life. 
 
 " He now invited the elders and deacons to approach 
 
SPEAKING TO THE MASSES. 267 
 
 the communion table, and distributed the bread and wine 
 to them, exhorting them to love of Christ, and faithful 
 discharge of their trust. 
 
 " It was not till after this that the deacons proceeded to 
 carry the sacred elements from seat to scat. A solemn 
 silence reigned through the assembly, broken only, from 
 time to time, by words of hearty exhortation from his 
 lips. Tlie distribution over, the solemn celebration finished 
 with prayer and a hymn, after a few words pointing out 
 that the blessing of the Supper extends to the eternal life 
 of the souL" 
 
 It was not, however, in the presence, and under the 
 restraints, of his chapel congregation that my father was 
 able to pour out his fullest power of speech. Though 
 gifted with extraordinary powers of successful extempore 
 utterance, lie was only thoroughly at home with a mass of 
 eager and intent hearers. Then, especially, his thoughts 
 (always intelligible and perspicuous) clothed themselves 
 with impromptu illustrations, the appropriateness of which 
 left an indelible impression on the mind. Endowed, in a 
 high degree, with that sympathetic fibre which enables 
 the speaker to read the hearts of the listeners, he possessed 
 no less that quickness which foresees objections, antici^oat- 
 ing or refuting them as they presented themselves to the 
 hearer he sought to persuade. 
 
 It will be inferred from this that he soon betook himself 
 to the work of addressing the masses, and that his own 
 experience of divine life would only strengthen a necessity 
 which arose out of his character and special gifts. Tims 
 in 1820, wdien on a pedestrian tour in Switzerland, in the 
 course of which he preached in all the towns through 
 
268 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 which he passed, I see that at Correncleliii he preached, 
 ill the public square. His ardent faith made him seize 
 eagerly on every opportunity of witnessing to the gospel. 
 Not content with doing this daily, in private conversations 
 which he was an adept at promoting, he knew perhaps 
 better than any — at all events he was among the foremost 
 of those, in the midst of whom he lived — to put aside, 
 when necessity arose, the traditional custom which re- 
 stricts the delivery of divine truth to special times and 
 places. Disposed as he was, by the very reverence of his 
 character, to impress, invariably, the highest solemnity on 
 the particular worship he directed, the all-important 
 element, with him, resided not in imposing ceremonial 
 accessories, but in the grandeur of the message he had to 
 deliver. This explains how, at the time when he was 
 interdicted from entering the pulpit of the K'ational 
 Church, a magistrate having suggested the possibility of 
 the government prohibiting him from erecting a chapel, he 
 did not scruple to say that, in that case, " he would hire a 
 boat and preach on the lake." 
 
 This reply, mentioned by De Goltz, reminds me of an 
 occurrence of which I was an eyewitness in 1828 or 1829, 
 which took place on one of our lake steamboats. Having 
 received the captain's consent, my father, with a few 
 people round him, mounted a pile of cables in the forepart 
 of the vessel, Kew Testament in hand, and invited those 
 present to gather round and hear the good Word of God. 
 I see him now erect above the listening crowd around him. 
 I seem to hear his penetrating voice borne upon the fresh 
 breeze of the spring morning, our beautiful shores stretch- 
 
TRUE YOKE-FELLOJVS. 269 
 
 ing out before iis. AVhat is more, I well remember a 
 gentleman standing next to me (who had betrayed signs of 
 very natm^-al impatience at first at so unusual a scene) 
 came up to my father after he had finished speaking, and 
 grasping his hand with much fervour, addressed those 
 present himself, declaring that his heart had apprehended 
 the gospel for the first time, and that, from that day, he 
 would avow himself its disciple. AYe shall have occasion, 
 by and by, to recall more than one of these incidents, 
 illustrative of the joyous earnestness of the first years of 
 the revival. Afterwards, a declared opposition imposed 
 its ceremonious proprieties. To the involuntary expres- 
 sion (so to speak) of personal enthusiasm has succeeded 
 an avowed antagonism which entrusts to a faction its ante- 
 cedents, and the flag it has erected. This last characteris- 
 tic Avas always foreign to my father's missionary zeal. 
 
 With reference to that zeal, we cannot do better than 
 insert here an extract from M. de Goltz, in which he refers 
 to my father and F. I:^oeff. "They possessed," he says, 
 " mighty faith and ability, were thoroughly men of prayer, 
 and displayed a boldness in bearing witness to the truth 
 which brought down a signal blessing on their labours. 
 Their individual influence was great ; they carried, wherever 
 they went, the witness of Jesus Christ. They never missed 
 an opportunity afforded by a walk or by an accidental 
 meeting. They never heard a hostile word, they never 
 took a journey, without finding or making an opportunity 
 of speaking of their Saviour. Ever in His presence, they 
 could not help feeling a holy interest in the souls which 
 God threw in their way; nor did they mix with other 
 
270 LIFE OF CjFSAB MALAN. 
 
 men witlioiit availing themselves of every occasion for tliis 
 work of soul-gatliering. "" 
 
 " They had a passion for the conversion of souls," says 
 INI. Guizot, in speaking of the instruments of the revival 
 generally, "j" " God ever in communication with man, with 
 every man," he adds, " present to the actual life of each, 
 and hereafter deciding his future destiny, the incalculable 
 worth of every soul before God, and the paramount import- 
 ance of the future which awaits it : — these are the convic- 
 tions, the declarations comprised in that passion for the 
 salvation of souls which filled the life of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ Himself" 
 
 These words exactly describe the sentiments wdiich lay 
 at the bottom of my father's missionary zeal. 
 
 At the same time, it would be a mistake to imagine that 
 he was entirely unmoved when he saw himself the object 
 of envious looks, whisperings, or jeering smiles from a pre- 
 judiced people ; or that he was not pained by the gross 
 insults of the lower orders. In his own home, of course, 
 in the Garden of the Pre-Beni (given to him by God as 
 an asylum to hold his treasures), among those who came 
 to him for light and teaching, — in his pulpit again, 
 where he only looked upon himself as a minister of Jesus 
 Christ, — he knew neither embarrassment nor hesitation. 
 Yet we ought not to infer the absence of sensitive emotion 
 from his composure of manner, imparted by the upright 
 simplicity of his faith, and his courageous devotion to the 
 service of Him Whom he loved to call " his good Master." 
 
 * De Goltz, Gen. Eelig., p. 226. 
 
 t "Eeflections on the Actual State of the Christian Religion, 1st series. 
 Meditation on the Christian Revival in France." 
 
PEESSING FORIVARD. 271 
 
 In his first tract (Germain le Bucheron), written in 1819, 
 he says, " I have often found it dii^cult to start a religious 
 conversation with strangers." How frequently have I seen 
 him, myself, bow down his head with an expression of 
 keenest j)ain under public insults which followed him 
 through so many years, almost every time he quitted the 
 garden enclosure ! How often did he conceal from me, as 
 though it were a wound refusing to be healed, the secret 
 anguish he experienced at ever finding himself disowned, 
 despised, misunderstood, by those whom he longed to con- 
 vince of the love he bore them, and for whose spiritual 
 enlightenment he ceased not to pour out his soul before 
 God !" 
 
 All these feelings vanished, however, when he was called 
 upon to give his testimony to the gospel of salvation. 
 Then he Avas Caesar Malan no longer ; he was the minister, 
 the servant of a faith to which we all bow, the herald of 
 Him Who alone is to be honoured. Eternity, thencefor- 
 ward, with eternal interests, eternal life and eternal death, 
 silenced at once all personal feelings and considerations. 
 
 At the very outset of his career as a preacher of the 
 gospel, he replied to a friend who expressed surprise at the 
 firmness with which he had laid aside all his literary 
 occupations, " My life is too short for that." * Xor is 
 there anything in this sentiment to astonish those who 
 have followed him through his daily career. There was, 
 as it were, a pressure in it ; we feel that he hastened to 
 woi'k while it was day, and that, in his judgment, the only 
 work which seemed worthy to engage his energies and his 
 leisure was labour in the vineyard of the Father of the 
 
 * Schickedantz. 
 
272 LIFE OF CjESAR MALAN. 
 
 family, — the advancement of the kingdom of Christ in the 
 heart. 
 
 This was the feeling that made him one of the bravest 
 and most persevering witnesses of the gospel. Doubtless, 
 what at first required from him an effort of will became, 
 by degrees, a second nature. 
 
 In the intimacies of private life he knew well how to 
 lay aside the gravity of his public character. For my own 
 part I never met any one whose conversation was more 
 constantly varied, more intelligent, readier, or more ani- 
 mated, at suitable times, with a frank good humour, and a 
 gaiety of the best kind. But from the moment any appeal 
 reached him unexpectedly, as a minister of the gospel, when- 
 ever he found himself face to face with any one whom he 
 had no expectation of seeing again at his leisure, he felt 
 himself carried away by the thought thus uttered by an 
 apostle of old, " Woe is me if I preach not the gospel ! " 
 
 Setting aside, from that moment, every other considera- 
 tion, he went straight to the mark : he addressed to the 
 soul before him some one of those questions by which he 
 knew so well how to break over all barriers, and seemed to 
 penetrate with living force into the very spirit of his 
 inquirers. Such questions from any other lips would have 
 appeared most singular ; but they were submitted to, 
 without protest, fiom him, in consequence of the impres- 
 sion produced by the serious and at the same time affec- 
 tionate anxiety, and perfect kindliness with which he pro- 
 posed them. 
 
 Not only, as he said himself, was he thoroughly con- 
 vinced " that a single conversation is often more ethcacious 
 than many sermons," but he took much interest also in 
 
 i 
 
A MISSIONARY INCIDENT. 273 
 
 distributing religious tracts, and lost no opportunity of 
 doing so/* 
 
 Nor was it merely abroad that my father acted the 
 missionary. At Geneva his daily walks, even to the very 
 end, were availed of for this kind of dealing with individual 
 souls, of which it inif_>ht be said, amon;^ us at least, that he 
 alone knew the secret, and for similar instances of which 
 we should have to betake ourselves to the religious world 
 in England or America. 
 
 Many examples of this work may be found recorded by 
 himself, either in his various tracts, or in the accounts 
 he publislied on his return from some of these missionary 
 tours.-f I could not undertake to repeat here what he 
 has himself related, but I may be permitted, before passing 
 on to an account of his evangelising expeditions, to mention 
 a circumstance which came under my own observation 
 about the year 1840, in a pedestrian trip which I made 
 with him, in company with a young Englishman who was 
 staying with us at the time. 
 
 ]\Iy father wished to revisit with us the picturesque 
 gorges, north of the Jura, which he had explored in his 
 youth, and remembered with enthusiasm ever since. Tak- 
 ing the boat from Geneva to Lausanne, we went on foot to 
 Yverdon, no opportunity being missed by him of proclaim- 
 ing tlie gospel. On the hike of Neufchatel I remember well 
 
 * " Qnatre-vingt Jours," &c., p. 390, and elsewhere. 
 
 + See for example the chapter headed Bible Anecdotes, in his "Gospel 
 Sowings," (1830) ; the preface of his "Grains de SentWe ;" tracts, such as 
 "Germain le Bucheron," "la Valaisanne," "L't^pi gland sur une grande 
 route," "Ce que Dieu garde est bien garde," "La Koute perdue," &c., &c. 
 See also several pages in his "True Child's Friend," and in "Twenty- 
 Swiss Pictures:" some episodes in "Can I join the Church of Kome?" 
 and especially his descriptions of his missions, to be referred to by and by. 
 
 S 
 
274 LIFE OF C^FSAB MALAX. 
 
 sketching liim seated in the bow of the boat, with a young 
 man at his side, to whom he was speaking about his soul. 
 His iSTew Testament was in his hand, while a mountaineer, 
 leaning against the gunwale, let his pipe go out as he 
 listened to him. 
 
 A few days after, we climbed, one glorious evening, the 
 road ascending from Bienne, and following the torrent of 
 the Suze. Eeaching the inn at Sonceboz, my father, as 
 he unhooked his knapsack, said to the landlady that he 
 intended having evening prayers with us after supper, and 
 that if she and her household liked to come they would be 
 welcome. '' We don't require that sort of thing here," she 
 replied, apparently very much pressed with business, add- 
 ing one or two expressions of impatience. Thereupon my 
 father forthwith resumed knapsack and staff, saying to me, 
 as he did so, " Do you feel up to another hour's walking ? " 
 little heeding the amazement of our would be-hostess, who 
 was anxious to detain us. " Come, boys, I cannot pass the 
 night under a roof where there is no desire for prayer, and 
 no fear of God." 
 
 A few minutes afterwards, as we were following the road 
 leading from Sonceboz through pine woods to the defile of 
 Pierre- Pertuis, w^e came up to some waggons laden with 
 planks, which were going in our direction. My father 
 called to me, and pointing out a tall young man who was 
 driving the first of them, gave me a tract, asking me to 
 hand it to him from him. The driver thanked me very 
 politely, and I rejoined my travelling companion, who 
 had stopped for a moment to admire a particular part of 
 the landscape. In a few moments, however, the man to 
 whom I had given the tract, and who had set to work to 
 
GENTLE LEADINGS. 275 
 
 read it aloud to his mates, came up to me, and asked me 
 to request my father to explain to them a few things in it 
 which they coidd not understand. My father joined the 
 men, and we left them coming on slowly after us, and 
 keeping alongside of the waggons. SliDrtly afterwards, 
 when they had rejoined us, I overheard him, as he 
 stretched out his hand to the man who had read the 
 tract, inviting him and his companions to our evening 
 worship at Tavannes. They promised to come, and 
 kept their word. "Was it not the Lord who drew us 
 away from Sonceboz ?" lie asked me, when we were by 
 ourselves. 
 
 The next morning we started at the dawn of day. 
 After having walked for about two hours, we went to a 
 village inn to have some coffee. Whilst we were waiting 
 for it, my father noticed that the young woman in attend- 
 ance stopped from time to time to put her apron to her 
 eyes. " You seem to be in trouble ? " he asked. " Alas, sir, 
 only a few days ago I lost my poor husband, and of course 
 I am very unhappy." Making room for her beside him 
 on the form, " Come here, my poor woman," he said, " let 
 me speak to you of the comforting promises of the gospel." 
 He had not got far when his companion interru2:)ted him 
 by asking if she might go and fetch her friend Jeanette. 
 " Slie will be delighted to hear you," she explained, " she 
 too speaks to me very often of these good things." She 
 soon returned with a young peasant, and we left my father 
 alone with them. 
 
 A moment afterwards, he beckoned to us through the 
 window to go with him to visit Jeanette's father, who 
 was lying ill, close by. We were conducted to a little 
 
276 LIFE OF C.FSJE MALAN. 
 
 wooden house, and into a large room, at the end of which, 
 near the window, lay a white-haired old man. " Father," 
 said she, " I have brought you a minister of the gospel." 
 " God be praised," said the invalid, as my father seated 
 himself at his side; soon discovering in him signs of 
 genuine and touching piety. In the conversation which 
 followed, he asked him how he had arrived at a knoAvledge 
 of his Saviour. " On this bed," he replied, " where I have 
 lain for many years ; and through reading a book ^Titten 
 by a Mr Malan of Geneva. Ah ! had I not been aged and 
 infirm, I should long ago have gone there to see him. 
 Look here, sir, you cannot think how earnestly I have 
 entreated the Lord that I might see him before I died. 
 For a long time I thought He would grant my desire, but 
 I 'm afraid I shall have to give it up." I stole a glance at 
 my father, who was sitting silently looking at his hands; 
 " What is the name of the book you refer to ?" he suddenly 
 inquired as he raised his head. "Stay," was the reply, 
 "here it is, it's always by me ;" and he drew from under 
 his pillow a well-worn copy of one of the earliest editions 
 of my father's hymns, and handed it to my father. " Do 
 you sing any of these then ?" asked my father, as he 
 turned over the leaves. " Oh, Jeanette knows some of 
 them ; she often sings them to me, and I derive pleasure 
 and profit whenever I hear them," adding, as though 
 speaking to himself, " If I could only see the dear gentle- 
 man who wrote those beautiful hymns ; he must be a 
 good Christian." 
 
 " Listen, brother," said my father ; " these young gentle- 
 men and I have just come from Geneva." *' You have 
 come from Geneva? then perhaps you have seen M. 
 
NUNC DIMITTIS. 277 
 
 Malan ?" " Certainly I have ; we all know liini well ; and 
 I can assure you, tliat if lie were here he would remind 
 you that he has only been a feeble and imperfect instru- 
 ment of good to you ; and he would speak to you, above 
 all, not of himself, a poor sinner as you are, but of the 
 eternal grace and perfection of our blessed Lord." The 
 conversation lasted a few moments longer; my father 
 prayed ; then, when we had sung together one of the 
 hymns which Jeanette knew, he prepared to leave, telling 
 her that he was to preach the next day, Sunday, at Moutiers. 
 When he had got to the door, however, he stopped, and 
 returning once more to the bed where the old man was 
 lying with folded hands, said to him, with emotion, " My 
 father, God Himself to Whom you will so soon depart, 
 has granted your prayer. I am JMalan of Geneva; your 
 brother in the faith of our blessed Saviour." 
 
 The poor old man, fixing his streaming eyes upon him 
 in a long and ardent gaze, and slowly raising his trembling 
 hands, exclaimed, " Bless me, bless me before I die ! You, 
 whom I have so long prayed God to send to me, bless 
 me now that I have the joy of seeing you 1" Falling on 
 his knees at the bedside, my father replied, in tones which 
 betrayed his deep feeling, " You ought rather to bless me, 
 for you are old enough to be my father. But all blessing 
 comes from God alone ; let us once more ask it of Him 
 together." iVnd, folding in his arms the lowly brother 
 whom he felt he should never see again till they met in 
 the better country, he invoked upon him " the peace which 
 Jesus gives," and we left the hamlet. 
 
 The next morning he preached at ^Moutiers, and in the 
 afternoon at the village of Grandval. To the former place 
 
278 LIFE OF C^SAR MA LAN. 
 
 came Jeanette, witli lier friend, and quite a crowd from tlieir 
 village, a distance of more tlian three leagues, to hear the 
 foreim minister. 
 
 o 
 
 My story may have seemed a little long, but I trust I 
 shall be forgiven for having described in its details, (pre- 
 serving as far as possible the very words of the conversa- 
 tion,) a scene which made so deep an impression upon me 
 in my youthful days. 
 
 An incident which occurred the day after the sermon at 
 Moutiers may serve to illustrate the easy and affectionate 
 manner with which my fatlier was in the habit of addressing 
 the first person whom he might chance to meet. As he stood 
 behind me watching while I was sketching some rocks at the 
 opening of an abrupt gorge, a tall old man passed us on his 
 way. I said to my father, — why, I cannot tell, — " I feel as 
 if that man was a pious Christian." " Xothing easier than 
 to find out," he replied ; and quickly turning to the 
 stranger, said smilingly, " Will you take my hand, sir, if I 
 offer it?" "Eh, sir," said the old man, removing his hat, 
 " you do me a great honour." " And what if it were in the 
 name of the Lord Jesus that I offer it ?" " Then give me 
 both your hands, my beloved brother," he exclaimed. A 
 long conversation followed between them, and we saw him 
 frequently afterwards in a neighbouring village, and found 
 that he was well known through all the country side for 
 his gentle and active piety. 
 
 Let me give here one or two additional illustrative in- 
 cidents extracted from his correspondence, which teems, 
 especially during his missionary journeys, with passages 
 well worthy of being preserved on record. 
 
 " In a town in the north of France," he writes to a 
 
CONVERSATIONS. 279 
 
 friend, in 1849, " a shoeblack of a certain age, to whom I 
 had applied one rainy, muddy day, said, in an undertone, 
 as he looked at my boots, 'Faith, and they want it too 1' 
 ' Xot so much as our souls need the blood of Christ,' I 
 rejoined, solemnly. The shoeblack started, ' I beg your 
 pardon, sir,' he said. On receiving his answer, he recom- 
 menced his task, saying to himself, ' I never heard of 
 that before !' He heard it then at all events, clearly; and 
 appeared to listen eagerly." 
 
 A letter to my mother, dated Heidelberg, 9th Sept. 
 1 849, contains the following : — 
 
 " The country is overrun with Prussian soldiery, and 
 two captains and an Israelite have been my fellow-travellers 
 the whole day. They talked a great deal, all the way 
 along, of their campaign of Baden, and they noticed here 
 and there the battle-fields, redoubts, burnt dwellinf^s, &c. 
 I held my tongue. At length, after about three hours of 
 it, when they had warmed up a little in their description, 
 I said to the Israelite, ' TeU them from me that in heaven 
 there will be no more war.' He did so ; upon which one of 
 the captains remarked to me, ' Yes, yes ; but if there were 
 Baden men there, there would be no peace.' ' There, there 
 will be neither Baden nor Prussian,' was the reply, ' but 
 chiklren of peace — the saved.' 
 
 " A deep silence succeeded the military storm. Then I 
 said to the Jew, ' Tell them the Lord Jesus calls Himself 
 the Prince of Peace.' Again he complied, very seriously ; 
 whereupon the captain next to me turned round and 
 said, in an undertone, ' If we were lovers of order, there 
 would be no more war.' ' liather,' said I, ' if we were 
 Christians. But it is not so : we kill one another, though 
 
280 LIFE OF CyFSAE MALAN. 
 
 we are men, and of tlie same blood I' He sighed, and 
 pressed my hand. Thenceforth the conversation was 
 quieter, and when we parted, we wished one another a 
 pleasant jonrney." 
 
 These ways of ]3i'oceeding were the perfectly natural 
 result, in my father's case, of heart impulse. Moreover, 
 however much surprise he might produce at first by 
 broaching at once the most sacred topics connected with 
 the hidden life of the soul, I do not think any one ever 
 resented his conduct as an offence. As far as he was con- 
 cerned, the motive which prompted him was a constant, 
 earnest desire to be the means of bringing souls to the 
 knowledge of Jesus Christ. This was an aim he never 
 lost sight of. How often, as we paused in our solitary 
 w^alks on one of the eminences which gird our town, and 
 suffered our gaze to wander over the villages and hamlets 
 visible on every side ; how often have I heard him arrest 
 the expression of the admiration, with which the sight of 
 our beautiful country never failed to inspire him, exclaim- 
 ing, " If we might only hope that each of those villages 
 and dwellings contained if it were but one who knew and 
 loved the Lord Jesus 1" 
 
 And then I was led to ask myself how a nature like his 
 could endure the thought that the people over whom his 
 heart yearned so lovingly were so effectually deprived of 
 the blessing of salvation ; till I remembered that his soul 
 was in constant submission to that silent obedience of 
 faith which taught him to abjure either the thought or 
 desire of penetrating into what he held to be a mystery 
 known only to God. I recalled, too, that child-like trust 
 which led him to believe that the glory of God would 
 
IiV ENGLAND. 931 
 
 appear as fully one clay in ^vhat is at present concealed, 
 as it does now in what is revealed. 
 
 Witli reference to what I have just recorded, the reader 
 wiU understand that to attempt a thorough description of 
 the missionary activity of my father's life would involve a 
 record of each day's history, from the time that that absorb- 
 ing passion just referred to, took possession of his soul. 
 Eeserving, then, allusion, as occasion may arise, to vari- 
 ous evangelising expeditions, I shall confine myself at 
 present to a mention of his principal tours with this object. 
 Up to the year 1830 he scarcely ever preached abroad,— 
 except in England, in 1822, 1826, and 1828. 
 
 When he went there in 1822 he had no idea of preach- 
 ing m public. He was, as it were, forced to do so in 
 spite of himself A clergyman with whom he had dined 
 introduced him, without previous warning, into a room 
 where a numerous company was assembled, saying to him, 
 " These persons are assembled here for the purpose of 
 hearing you." My father did the best he could. Soon 
 afterwards he managed to preach easily in English. 
 
 It was to the connections which he formed thus early 
 with the religious community in England, more especially 
 with the evangelical party, and dissenters and Presby- 
 terians of Scotland, that we must attribute the special 
 direction which, from a remote period, his religious habits 
 assumed. Eor example, it was there that he acquired those 
 strict views which he maintained all his life, on the sanctity 
 of the Lord's day; and by wliich he was distinguished even 
 from the other adherents of the revival of Geneva. It 
 was there, too, that he acquired that freedom from conven- 
 tional trammels which accompanies zeal for the propaga- 
 
282 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 tion of tlie faith among English believers. To the same 
 quarter he referred the habit of pnljlicly distributing 
 tracts, of holding meetings in other places besides churches, 
 and, generally, that independence with reference to pre- 
 scribed forms, which characterises the evangelical party in 
 free England. There, too, he made acquaintance with the 
 writings of the Anglican theologians of the seventeenth 
 century, which were popular at the time among those 
 with whom he was brought into special contact, and which 
 continued to be amongst his favourite reading. 
 
 The visit to Great Britain, in which he came most pro- 
 minently forward, was that which he paid in 1826, and to 
 which I have already had occasion to refer. As regards his 
 missionary Avork there, I find the following in the i:)reface 
 of a little work published by one of his hearers, and con- 
 taining notes of some of his sermons delivered in Scotland.* 
 
 After premising that it would be impossible to find 
 simpler and more powerful setting forth of the confidence 
 which the believer is called upon to exercise in what God 
 declares, the author, quoting an expression from an old 
 English theologian, goes on to say that IMalan's merit as a 
 preacher consisted in bringing believers to accumulate two 
 heaps — one of their merits, the other of their sins ; and, 
 to leave them both, to take refuge in Christ Himself. He 
 has no hesitation in affirming that ''the manner in which 
 INIalan presented evangelical truth, recalled to his liearers 
 the days of Luther and Eutherford." 
 
 ]\Iy mother has mentioned to me one more incident in 
 
 * "■ Eecollections of the Eev. C. Malan, D.D., of Geneva, being notes of 
 sermons preached by him in Edinburgh, in May and June 1S2G." James 
 
 Nisbet, 1S27. 
 
LOJFLAND HILL 283 
 
 connection with tlio impression wliicli he produced, in his 
 public speaking at that time, on men capable of forming a 
 judgment. He had just been preaching to an attentive 
 congregation when he was stopped, on leaving the pulpit, 
 by an old man, entirely unknown to him. " I bless God," 
 said the stranger, " that I have this day heard Eomaine 
 and Whitfield." On my father asking who it was that 
 addressed him, " My name," answered the stranger, " is 
 Eowland Hill ! " 
 
 He continued in England for some months of the 
 summer of 1833 and 1834. On that occasion he visited 
 Ireland, where he stayed with his friend Lord Eoden. 
 It was in that country that he was happily instrumental 
 through one of those lucid expressions inspired by his 
 faith in the sovereign grace of God, in giving light to the 
 soul of a Methodist lady whose mind had been affected 
 by the dread of eternal condemnation. 
 
 In 1839 he again visited London and Edinburgh, passing 
 through Holland, wliere he had already been, on his return 
 in 1834. 
 
 I append a few details of his journey in 1839, which I 
 have gathered from the letters he wrote at the time to one 
 of my sisters in Scotland. I may mention it was at the 
 time of the revival in Kelso : — 
 
 "Sept, 1839. — After having preaclied an liour and a 
 quarter at Dundee, I had to speak for the greater j^art of 
 an hour to nearly two thousand persons, silent and im- 
 pressed. It seemed to me as thougii the Word of the 
 Lord were descending upon their souls like rain on the 
 mown grass. What joy my God has given me this even- 
 ing ! My mission has been blessed ! I have been wel- 
 
284 LIFE OF CESAR MALAN. 
 
 corned everywhere as a messenger of peace ! I preached 
 five times at Kelso. The last time the same scene occurred 
 which I had experienced at Dundee. After the blessing 
 every one sat down again, and remained, — their eyes fixed 
 on the pulpit. We understood that they wanted more 
 spiritual nourishment, and I spoke again, at some length. 
 It was very solemn." 
 
 A few days later, from Edinburgh, "jNIy good Master 
 has strengthened me here. I have been enabled to preach 
 twice to large, attentive, and thoughtful congregations. 
 Days of strength, power, and blessing." 
 
 Later still, on board ship at sea, " I return to Pre-Beni 
 full of gratitude. Our gracious heavenly Father has 
 singularly blessed my journey. ]My soul glorifies Him, and 
 I recall, with peculiar joy, the days I have spent in Eng- 
 land and Scotland." 
 
 His last expedition, — and not an unimportant one, — to 
 Great Britain was in 1843 ; on the occasion of the Secession 
 of the Free Church of Scotland. 
 
 Meanwhile he had for a long time directed his attention 
 to the continent. In England he associated, almost ex- 
 clusively, with the religious Avorld. What he longed for, 
 however, above everything, was the privilege of carrying 
 the Word of God where it w\as entirely ^mknown. It was 
 this desire that urged him to undertake, in 1836, his first 
 evangelistic tour in France. He returned to that country 
 in the spring of 1841. In 1842 he bent his steps towards 
 Belgium and Holland. In 1845 he visted the churches of 
 Holland again, and after returning to France in 1849, in 
 1852, and in 1853, and visiting Elberfeld in 1856, he 
 achieved his last missionary journey, that same year, to 
 
ysi 
 
 SAVOY. 285 
 
 the Vainlois Valleys ir Piedmont. Already his advancing 
 years disqnalified him from any longer undertaking alone the 
 fatigues of a missionary expedition, and in this visit of his 
 to the Churches he had so lonof desired to see, and which 
 he regarded as the ancient home of his sires, he was 
 compelled to have one of my sisters with him. 
 
 It may be asked how it w^as that his zeal never sent him 
 in the direction of Savoy. The fact is that he liad endea- 
 voured, at an early period, to penetrate it with gospel light, 
 but, as is well known, the Jesuits were paramount there 
 in those days. Indeed, at that time, my brothers and I 
 were always especially careful to take with us a Greek 
 Testament when we crossed the frontiers, for fear of 
 being involved in any difficulty by the discovery of a 
 French I^ew Testament in our knapsacks. Let nie 
 mention an incident which occurred when I was a child, 
 and which will serve to show to what extent our fears 
 were justified. 
 
 One of my father's boarders, about 1820, had given a 
 Bible to a Savoyard of Chablais, who was able to read. 
 It would seem that he had even employed him to intro- 
 duce a few into the province. The circumstance having 
 come to the knowledge of the authorities, the unfortunate 
 man was dragged from his home by carabineers, and 
 conveyed to the galleys at Genes. It was in mid-winter, 
 and his dautrhter, who, with her two little brothers, had run 
 after the sledge-truck on which their fatlier lay bound, 
 being repulsed by the soldiers, begged her way towards 
 Geneva. She died, however, of cold and wretchedness, 
 before she reached it, and the younger of the two boys, 
 having lost all trace of his brother, was taken home by a 
 
^ 
 
 286 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 gardener, wlio had seen liim before at my father's. Many- 
 years afterwards, ^vhen he was still in this man's service, 
 he saw, on the road near the town, a traveller clothed in 
 rags and covered with dust. The stranger, halting before 
 the young man, asked him to direct him to the house of 
 this very gardener. He took him there at once, and 
 ascertained that the unfortunate wanderer was his father. 
 The latter part of his punishment had been remitted, but 
 he was almost reduced to idiocy by the sufferings he had 
 had to undergo. 
 
 This fact alone wdll suffice to show how difficult it was 
 to introduce the gospel among a bigoted population, very 
 few of wdiom, moreover, knew^ how to read. Notwith- 
 standing this, how^ever, my father happened one day to 
 hear a Savoyard cure, wdth w^hom he had been conversing 
 on their journey, complain of two pests which corrupted 
 the youth of their village, one was emigration to Paris, and 
 the other a certain M. Malan of Geneva, who spread the 
 Bible and little heretical books in every direction. 
 
 From before 1830, however, my father was compelled to 
 keep out of Savoy altogether. Stopped by the gendarmerie 
 at Chamounix, where he had been summoned by the illness 
 of one of his boarders, and transported as a criminal to the 
 head-quarters of the province, he owed his liberty solely to 
 his firmness and presence of mind. He has recounted the 
 circumstance himself in pages of the greatest interest, add- 
 ing details which always encouraged him to hope that God 
 had permitted the arrest for the promotion of the spiritual 
 good of the officer who had been charged with it.* 
 
 During his missionary voyages, he not only preached in 
 
 * See " Quatre-vingt Joi.rs," &c., p. 2S1. 
 
HIS IDEAL MISSIONARY. 287 
 
 all the piilp,it3 open to liim, wlmtever the denomination to 
 which they belonged, hut he also applied his special atten- 
 tion to endless details of work in individual cases. Though 
 in many places his efforts led to the formation of a tract 
 society or the inauguration of fresh schemes of evangelisa- 
 tion, still his special work lay with separate souls. He 
 was far more the instrument of conversion to individuals 
 than of foundation to Churches. The ideal ever before 
 him '.v'as, as he said,* that of " missionaries travellino; alone, 
 skilled to accost those whom they met, and to offer to 
 them, with the courteous greeting of genuine charity, small 
 religious tracts, or even the sacred volume itself; thus 
 leaving with them preachers to accompany them througii 
 their daily occupations, and appeal to them at home." This 
 ideal no one perhaps approached so nearly as himself. 
 
 Some of his journeys were originated solely by himself ; 
 though the greater part of the time, he was delegated or 
 invited by various Churches and religious societies. In- 
 variably, however, especially after 1830, we see him avail- 
 ing himself eagerly of every opportunity of escape from 
 the confined atmosphere w^hich surrounded him in Geneva, 
 that he might seek out populations thirsting for the living 
 Word ; opened hearts ; and numerous and awakened con- 
 crations. 
 
 While he was away from home, and his place in his chapel 
 supplied by his brethren at Geneva, his letters to our 
 mother enabled us to follow his career week by week. His 
 return, announced beforehand and impatiently expected, 
 was a fete-day for his family. He took out of his travel- 
 
 * " Quatre-vingt Jours," &c., p. 300. See also tlie Preface of the 
 " Grains de Seueve." 
 
288 LIFE OF CzESAR MALAN. 
 
 ling-bag small presents for the youngest of us, wliicli excited 
 tlieir wonder — sea shells, foreign playthings, a few chil- 
 dren's books not to be had at Geneva — while his arrival 
 seemed to infuse new life into the house. As for himself, 
 he came back to us happy, refreshed, encouraged ; bringing 
 with him manuscripts ready for printing, or hurried notes 
 which he revised, or a concise account of the mission for 
 his Church, or a more detailed report for those who had 
 sent him. 
 
 During the time immediately subsequent to his return, 
 he was surrounded and cheered by the remembrances con- 
 veyed in numerous letters from those he had visited in the 
 course of his travels. It is in reading these letters, perhaps 
 even more than in hearing his account, that a precise idea 
 of the effect of his ministry is to be arrived at. In England 
 and Holland, where he was specially called upon to address 
 those of a certain amount of educational proficiency, these 
 recollections of his labours subsisted perhaps longer in the 
 minds of his hearers, taking the form, however, in the 
 majority of instances, of an intellectual interest in his 
 doctrine. In Belgium and France, where he came more 
 directly in contact with the masses, the impression he 
 produced was more general ; displaying itself more widely, 
 but appearing to have been more fugitive. The Belgian 
 Churches inspired him with the most affectionate recollec- 
 tions, — the closest, I may say ; while his visit to the Vaudois 
 Valleys (where he had been sent at the cost of some 
 American friends) was not only the last, but was probably 
 the richest of his happy experiences in his evangelistic 
 work. " ISTowhere, in all my mission spheres," he said to his 
 young friend the Pastor Coucourde, who rei:)eated his words, 
 
THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. 280 
 
 to me; — "liave I met with a more favourable field for 
 my worlc tlian among those worthy inliabitants of the 
 valleys." 
 
 If the accounts lie published of some of his journeys 
 give a very striking idea of his method of evangelising, 
 they do not at the same time furnish us with a history of 
 his labours. In order to follow him ste^D by step in his 
 work, it would be necessary to take up each of his expedi- 
 tions in succession, by means of letters and documents 
 which still remain, while his missions on the Continent 
 alone would furnish material for a volume. Instead of a 
 long list of dates and names of places, my readers would 
 doubtless prefer to find in these pages, after an account 
 presented by my father himself to his Church, some more 
 enlaxQ-ed details of his mission in the south of France, in 
 1836. 
 
 At the commencement of that year, he had felt a strong 
 desire to carry the Word to countries asking for it, 
 or deprived of it. He set out, commended to the Lord by 
 the prayers of his Church, which he left under the pastoral 
 supervision of candidates in theology at the Oratory, and 
 some of the pastors of the " Egiise du Bourg de Four." 
 But we will proceed to the further narrative in his own 
 words.'-' 
 
 "There had long been a felt need in France for some 
 minister of God to come and preach the gospel. I was 
 invited to respond to this appeal; and, after having received 
 funds sufficient to set forth, and depending upon the Lord 
 
 * The MS. book from which the following account is derived, is not in. 
 his own handwriting ; it consists of notes of the history of his expedition, 
 which he delivered in his chapel, taken while he was speaking. 20th 
 June 1836. 
 
 T 
 
290 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAK 
 
 for the rest, I can say now, as the apostles said when 
 asked by their Master on their return from their mission, 
 whether they lacked anything — ']N"othing, Lord.'" 
 
 Detailing a conversation with a Eoman Catholic in the 
 public conveyance from Geneva to Dole, he says, "The 
 great error under which I once laboured was, that on 
 certain occasions we ought to engage in controversy. 
 When a wolf carries away a lamb from my flock, I ought 
 by no means to use force to rescue his prey from his teeth. 
 In doing so, I should injure at once wolf, lamb, and my- 
 self. I must endeavour to persuaded him to relinquish 
 his booty of his own accord and follow me whither I 
 will. It is easier, no doubt, to speak of points of difference, 
 than of the centre of union. But we act as we are able. 
 As for my travelling companion from here to Dole, this 
 was the course I took with him. I simply said, ' I should 
 like to speak to you about your soul, but I don't know 
 how to begin.' 'Well, sir, proceed,' he replied with 
 promptitude. I continued, or rather we continued, to 
 converse, and on parting, I had the happiness of hearing 
 him thank God for sending me to speak to him of that 
 salvation which comes wholly from Him, and ho begged 
 me to send him a Bible. As a rule," my father goes on to 
 say, " I have found that if you enter upon a conversation 
 of this character, with kindness and courtesy, yoii will 
 always be listened to. Moreover, that is tlie only way to 
 succeed. Apropos of this, I should like to tell you what 
 happened to me one day wlien I was on the top of the 
 diligence between Paris and Marseilles. Sitting beside 
 me were five young merchants, whom I heard for a mo-r 
 
DWPPmGS BY THE JFAY. 201 
 
 ment chatting in a lively strain about a thousand things. 
 Suddenly I turned and said to them, 'You Frenchmen 
 appear to me like paper-kites without string/ Tirst of all, 
 sir/ said one of them in reply, "you will be so good as to 
 prove that we are paper-kites, and then you will tell us 
 how we come to be without string.' It was not difficult 
 for me to prove, with the Gospel in my hand, that man is 
 but the sport of vanity, and that if he is not held in by 
 the strong cord of the Spirit of God, he is inevitably car- 
 ried away by the unruly wind of covetousness and passion. 
 They listened to me as I asked them if it were not their 
 case; and, four of them leaving us at Sevres, I had an 
 earnest and prolonged conversation with the fifth. 
 
 " I have always found that, whether with Eomanists or 
 Protestants, the best way to commence such a conversation 
 is to bring them, at once, face to face with the doctrine of 
 election by grace." * 
 
 Arrived at Paris, he remained there a week to be pre- 
 sent at the annual meeting of the different religious 
 societies. "The most striking thing I remember," he 
 says, "and which penetrated my heart from the Lord, was 
 that, as He has not decided the question of Church govern- 
 ment in His Word, we ought not to attach too much im- 
 portance to the differences which divide us on this point. I 
 thank God that I went to Paris, if it were only to learn this." 
 He visited the Pastor Vivien at Versailles, and rejoiced 
 greatly in the zeal and activity of his old friend; preached 
 several times in Paris, and took part in the Temple Chapel 
 
 ..* ^''i :Q^^tre-vingt Jours," &c., p. 147, for a similar statement on the 
 same subject at the close of his mission to Bel-ium in 1S42 
 
292 LIFE OF CJ^SAB MALAN. 
 
 in the ordination of a candidate, whose course lie had 
 directed at Geneva some years before. 
 
 Not being able to decide, in the midst of the bnstle 
 of Paris, as to the aim to be given to his mission, he went 
 to St Cloud to spend a day in the park There he resolved 
 to set out next day for the south. 
 
 At Angouleme a young Parisian, amiable and of well- 
 bred manners, took his place in the conveyance, and 
 accosted him at once with the question, "Come from 
 Paris, sir ? of course you've seen the Huguenots ?" " No, 
 I did not ; but I have their treasure here," drawing a New 
 Testament from his pocket, and presenting it to him. 
 "Ah," said the young man, "good enough for children 
 that— mere fables." " How about your soul then ?" " My 
 soul! I haven't one; when you die, you die altogether," 
 and he proceeded to expound the system of materialism. 
 " I could scarcely keep from showing him the foUy of his 
 arguments by others in reply ; but I thought it better to 
 let the Word speak for itself, and read him several 
 passages. He got annoyed ; I saw then that they pricked 
 his conscience, and I went on ; he worked himself up into 
 a great rage, however, and sate silently biting his lips. 
 In this condition he remained for about half an hour, and 
 then exclaimed, suddenly, 'I should like to have such 
 a book as that, for I begin to think that its contents are 
 true, and that I have been under a delusion.' " IMy father 
 gave him his New Testament, and met him afterwards at 
 Bordeaux, where he constantly attended his ministry, and 
 showed, in a thousand ways, that he had received a deep 
 impression. " AVhen I saw this fruit of the Word of God," 
 
A TABLE D'HOTE. 293 
 
 he adds, "I rejoiced that I had not spoken of myself, 
 or employed my own arguments." 
 
 His stay at Bordeaux was laborious. He had written 
 from Paris to an old friend, M. de Laharpe, in that city, 
 saying that he would go south on condition that he had 
 work to do, and that he should be enabled to hold, at 
 least, two meetings a-day. His correspondent welcomed 
 him by saying, " I received your note ; you will hold your 
 first meeting in an hour." " That is what I call a true 
 hospitable greeting to a minister of God," my father adds. 
 It was at Bordeaux, at one of the meetings, that a young 
 Eomanist, a native of Bretagne, was brought to a know- 
 ledge of the gospel,— a workman in the city, and who, 
 after a course of suitable study, became a faithful pastor. 
 His history, for its own sake, would deserve to be re- 
 corded. 
 
 My father preached also in the churches of the Estab- 
 lishment, and before very numerous gatherings. But it 
 was when he left Bordeaux that his mission, properly 
 speaking, began. He quitted the city in company with 
 the pastor Henriquet, one of his old friends, and Mr 
 Laharpe, a candidate for the ministry, the son of the friend 
 who had received him on his arrival. 
 
 After various occurrences, too long to relate, the three 
 travellers arrived at Libourne. There, at the table d'hote, 
 they met a man who said openly, " For my part my religion 
 is gastronomy." "I must confess," said my father to^'his 
 hearers, in reference to this remark, " that I have often had 
 great difficulty in starting a religious conversation at a 
 ' table d'hote.' Here, however, it was started for me, so I 
 
294 LIFE OF CAESAR MALAN. 
 
 merely turned and said to the speaker, ' that a wiser than 
 he or I had declared that the belly and its meats were 
 made to be destroyed.' " From that time the conversation 
 proceeded with animation, and my father ended with dis- 
 tributing tracts to those present. At Bergerac also, at the 
 "table d'hote," he interrupted a sharj) discussion on the 
 comparative merits of Spaniards and Frenchmen, by say- 
 ing, in a loud, clear tone, " that in the eyes of the Supreme 
 Judge no one nation is better than another," and " that he 
 alone is really ' letter ' who has been renewed by the Spirit 
 of God." Then availing himself of the sensation he had 
 produced in the company, he put a tract in each of their 
 plates and left the room. 
 
 After visiting St Foy, they arrived in lands immortalised 
 in the recollection of every Protestant, for the persecutions 
 endured there by the confessors of a pure gospel. Here 
 M. Henriquet, whose church was in the neighbourhood, 
 had to part with his friends. " Some of the fishermen, 
 who comprise the population of tliat country, — simple- 
 minded and honest men, — came to convey us in one of 
 their large boats. The sailing was delightful ; and, as we 
 were quietly towed along by the oxen, we sang with loud 
 voices the praises of the Lord. On approaching La Xouga- 
 rede we found the bank crowded with groups waiting for 
 us. The church was close at hand. I preached there for 
 many consecutive hours to three or four hundred peoj^le, 
 who listened with unwearied eagerness to the message of 
 the gospel." 
 
 As they were leaving, a physician of Bergerac, who had 
 heard my father at Bordeaux, entered into a conversation 
 
BEING INSTANT. 295 
 
 in the diligence "witli ]\f. Laliarpe. On their arrival at 
 Bergerac early in the cla}^, the two travellers found that the 
 diligence did not leave till very late in the evening. My 
 father therefore proposed to M. Laharpe that he should ask 
 the physician, with whom he had been conversing, whether 
 they couldn't have a meeting ? One was held forthwith, 
 and lasted from seven to nine. About midnight, just as 
 they were starting, they found there were no vacant places. 
 As there seemed no prospect of the hotel being opened, a 
 gentleman in the town received the two missionaries into 
 his house. At their departure, the next day, he assured 
 them that he had cause to bless God for their stay. 
 
 At Castillonnez they took a walk in the town while the 
 horse was being baited. *' How many servants of God," 
 said M. Laharpe, suddenly, " have passed under the arch- 
 ways of these gates to go to martyrdom ! " " How I 
 should love to preach the Word of God to this people," 
 replied his companion. Then, observing some children 
 who were leaving school, he called one of them to him, 
 and, asking him if he knew how to read, gave liim a tract. 
 " Soon," he goes on to say, " all the school was round me ; 
 so that I took one on my knees, liad another at my side, 
 and gave a tract to every one who could read ; and thus 
 the truth of the gosj)el was disseminated through the entire 
 place. " 
 
 At Clairac my father held a meeting every day, and 
 preached twice on Sunday. On Monday, after visiting the 
 pastor, he distributed tracts, addressed the workmen on the 
 road separately, and, in the evening, presided again over a 
 meeting. 
 
296 LIFE OF CJESAPo MALAX. 
 
 Malan and his young friend preached at Montaiiban, 
 where the latter stopped. At La Garde my father's address 
 created a lively impression in the minds of some who were 
 present, as well as of the pastor himself Xear there, he 
 had the gratification of thanking one of the gentlemen of 
 the neighbourhood, who had been mentioned to him as 
 being the person who, at the commencement of the build- 
 ing of his chapel, had sent him thirty louis d'or, with an 
 anonymous letter containing the following sentence : " It 
 is written, Extend thy curtains; but it is also written, 
 Strengthen thy pavilions ! I have received this sum, and 
 I send it to you." 
 
 At Toulouse he met M. Chabrand, that delightful 
 character, who, the more he is known the more he is be- 
 loved ; with those servants of God, so zealous and so devoted 
 in their work, the IMjM. Courtois. " I begged them," he 
 adds, " not to be sparing in their supj)ly of work, as I had 
 not come to visit museums and curiosities, but to preach 
 the Word of God." 
 
 So he preached frequently in that town; among other 
 places, at the Military Hospital. " The place where I had 
 to speak," he says, " was sufficiently large, and the soldiers 
 who occupied it had, the greater portion of them, risen 
 from their beds, and came in leaning upon one another. 
 There were some bedsteads which had been stripped in 
 the room. 'Come, my friends,' I said to them, 'we must 
 draw the table near the beds that you may be able to sit 
 down.' Otherwise, they would certainly have fainted. I 
 then preached to them, but in language suitable to soldiers. 
 I said to them, among otlier things, ' You are probably told 
 
EVERYWHEBE PEEACIIING THE JFOBD. 297 
 
 that there are small and great sins, bnt this is not the 
 case. Suppose that in time of war yon had been posted as 
 a sentinel ;' in saying this, I looked steadfastly at an old 
 grenadier with gray moustaches ; ' with instructions not 
 to let a single cockade of the enemy pass your beat. 
 While you are stationed there, a little child comes up 
 to you, wearing this cockade, and says to you, " Let me 
 pass, sentry." '''No one passes here would be your 
 answer." '' But I want to go and see my mother." " No 
 one passes here," yon would again reply ; and the child 
 would be off. Well, it is exactly the same with reference 
 to these sins sometimes called little.' " 
 
 The next Sunday, the soldiers closed their doors on their 
 chaplain; "Go and preach your stuff elsewhere," they 
 cried, " and send us the gentleman who spoke to us the 
 other day." The incident created a stir: it was even re- 
 ferred to Paris, and the final result was a free admission 
 for Protestants into the hos]3ital. 
 
 Prom Toulouse, after visitim:^ the Churches of Ariec^e, he 
 arrived at Calmont. " The people of this place," he says, 
 " were so desirous to hear the gospel, that every time the 
 bell rang, they came in a body to church. When our 
 dear and honoured brother Olivier came there, he arrived 
 very late in tlie evening ; but as he had to set out again 
 the next morning, the pastor had the bell rung immediately ; 
 and though the population had gone to bed, tliey all got 
 up, and the meeting was held. 
 
 " At Mirepoix where we had to stop, we walked into the 
 town — the pastor of Calmont and I — and as we passed 
 by a cutler's shop, I said to the man, ' Ah ! I see you make 
 
298 LIFE OF C^FSAR MALJK 
 
 use of coals, as tlie fire is fiercer, but do you know of the 
 fire that is never quenched.' 'How?' he asked, 'a fire 
 which is never quenched ? ' and lie left his forge and 
 listened very seriously while I spoke to him of his soul." 
 
 As they were returning and crossing the market-place, 
 they saw in the distance a species of clerk who was 
 reading aloud. My father passed on, but his companion 
 cried out to him in English, " Doctor, here's a man who 
 says that God's truth is better than man's." The fact was, 
 that this clerk had intended to make a sort of public de- 
 monstration against the Protestant preachers. " I retraced 
 my steps," says my father, "and asked the reader to let 
 me see the book he had in his hand. It was a Breviary. 
 Then opening it after the Magnificat, I read these words, 
 'And this is His commandment, that we should believe 
 on the name of His Son Jesus Christ, and love one another 
 as He gave us commandment.'* 'What glorious words 
 you have got in this book,' I said to those around me. 
 Thirty or forty persons had collected together, and for twenty 
 minutes I preached to them. I took care to keep my 
 friend the clerk at my side, and said to him in a low voice 
 from time to time, 'See that you are not fighting against 
 God.' He replied each time — ' Don't be afraid. Yes, in- 
 deed sir, it 's very good.' When I had finished, I let him 
 go." My father went back to Toulouse, passing La Bastide 
 on his way. There a letter from the pastor of Calmont 
 summoned him to Perpignan, where he stayed ten days. 
 
 " I had occasion to remark there," he says, " as in ot1 "X 
 countries of France, how far the minds of the people ^r.-f^, 
 
 * 1 John iii. 23. 
 
" TURNING TEE WORLD UPSIDE DOJFXr 299 
 
 becoming impatient of the yoke. They are not only full 
 of ardour, but also invariably ready to throw off every 
 species of rule. Hence care is needed not to mistake the 
 enthusiasm, which they occasionally display, for an im- 
 pression produced by the Word. Above all, it must never 
 be forgotten that the doctrines of grace, which, more than 
 any other, tend to set men free, if they are imperfectly 
 understood by these people, will serve to support them in 
 the tendencies to which I have referred. 
 
 At Perpignan, the mayor and prefect received the 
 foreign preacher very well. He delivered daily addresses 
 there ; frequently to six hundred or seven hundred people ; 
 in the large room of a building erected for the immediate 
 occupation of the Catholic bishop. "I told them," he 
 remarks, '' that I was neither Catholic nor Protestant, but 
 a Bible Christian, and that if any of them had any scruple 
 as to the copies of the sacred books I used, they might 
 come forward and say so, or, if they preferred it, pay me a 
 visit any day. They asked us for Bibles, and, at the close 
 of each address, came forward to thank us for having come 
 among them." 
 
 At Ptivesaltes, — an almost Spanish town, famous for the 
 fanaticism of its population, where he had been invited by 
 some one who had heard him at Perpignan, — he spoke in 
 the large room of a school which had just been established 
 by a few friends of progress. " The stir produced among 
 the population," he says, " was like that in the valley of 
 dry bones (Ezek. xxxvii.) Ten or twelve people renounced 
 Popery, and several ladies formed a committee for the 
 diffusion of the Scriptures. People told me that if I 
 
300 LIFE OF C.FSJB MALAK 
 
 stayed a few days longer tliey woiild abjure Eomanism. I 
 thought it was just the moment for me to withdraw, 
 leaving the S^^irit of God to work in their hearts ; for what 
 good end woukl have been answered by arousing in the 
 place nothing short of a religious revolution. I left there, 
 however, full of gratitude to God, longing for a gospel 
 missionary to return to them, provided only it were one of 
 matured experience, and not a young man." 
 
 At Montpellier, he met his old friend, and companion 
 of his studies, the pastor Lissignol, whose letters had 
 encouraged him during his work at Perpignan. He 
 preached there, as at IsTismes and Montelimart. "At 
 Lyons," he says, "I had the gratification of meeting my 
 dear and honoured brother, Adolphe ]\Ionod, who received 
 me with the most cordial affection, and begged me to 
 address his flock on three occasions. What strikes one in 
 this man of God is the deep humility which has been 
 vouchsafed to him." Then after relating how, in the 
 conveyance by which he returned to Geneva, he had had a 
 religious conversation with a fellow-traveller from which 
 he hoped for good results, he concluded his narrative, by 
 calling upon his congregation to intercede for France, 
 where "the harvest was plenteous but the labourers 
 few." 
 
 By way of giving completeness to the above, I wiU add 
 a few passages from a private journal which he wrote each 
 day, during his stay at Perpignan. In the midst of various 
 notes on letters from home, &c., we are enabled to dis- 
 cover, in all their vividness, his most intimate thoughts 
 on the subject of his mission — 
 
HUNGRY AND THIRSTY ONES. 301 
 
 " Oil June. — Held my first meeting : about tliree hundred 
 persons of all ranks present : officers of the garrison, 
 advocates, &c. At the commencement I said that I had 
 come in the hope of being useful to my hearers, that they 
 would, therefore, have to listen with attention. The 
 introduction of my discourse was to the effect that, in 
 spite of all the opinions which divide and perplex the 
 thinking world, there were two facts which no error nor 
 attack had been able to overrun — the one, that man is 
 a sinner; the other, that Jesus has been crucified, and 
 is risen again : that these two verities comprised all that 
 man was in himself, and all that the gmce of God had 
 done for him." 
 
 Saturday 4zth. — He meets soldiers who appear in- 
 terested in what he says to them, and wishful to hear him 
 further. He is told that his preaching has produced a 
 sensation, and he receives many visits from leading per- 
 sons in the town. " I notice that every one looks at me 
 with curiosity when I go out. Be it so. Let the Lord 
 only spread His net : and, if the fish enter from curiosity, 
 they will do what Zacchseus did." Then he adds, " I feel 
 more than ever that I am nothing in myself, I seem to be 
 nothing. ... I am sometimes disposed to reason with the 
 
 people, and, following the inclination of JST , to prove 
 
 first the authenticity of the Bible, &c., but I have been 
 withheld from doing so by an impulse from within. I 
 will preach Jesus, and His Name will vindicate its power 
 over the individual conscience. Under all circumstances 
 it is better, the sword of the Spirit beuig our weapon, to 
 deal a few blows into human soids, than to stop to 
 
v 
 
 302 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAK 
 
 inquire into the way in wliicli this two-edged blade has 
 been tempered." In the evening, at 9.30, there was a meet- 
 ing of seven hundred persons. " I shall have to prepare 
 my discourse very carefully for to-morrow, that it may be 
 abundantly enriched from the Word of God. Oh Jesus, 
 Jesus, my Master, have compassion on Thy servant's 
 ignorance, and help him with Thy Spirit and Thy AVord ! 
 Amen, Lord !" 
 
 " Monday Qth. — Further conversation with the soldiers. I 
 listened for a few moments to a young girl who played tlie 
 piano, before the lady of the house. Then, on being asked, 
 I played and sung a hymn, which gave rise to a very 
 singular conversation in which a gentleman took part, and 
 which the servants listened to on the stairs. It was 
 followed by several others with the same persons." 
 
 StJi. — After his return from "that day of peace and 
 blessiuGj " at Eivesaltes : " this mornincs;, a resident in 
 Perpignan, who met us in the town, said to me, ' Courage, 
 you are doing good. People are thinking and speaking of 
 what you are saying. If you do not see the results, they 
 are none the less sure to come. Go forward !' Lord, 
 Thou who art the beginning and the strength of the life 
 of Thy people, have compassion upon me !" In the even- 
 ing : " This morning I was exhausted, but it did not last, 
 and the joy of my heart increases in proportion with the 
 work." 
 
 "10/A. — As I was leaving the N.'s I met in the 
 courtyard the Spanish nobleman whom I have mentioned 
 before. I talked with him for more than an hour on the 
 efficacy of Christ's death. At the end of our conversation 
 
WHAT IIATII GOD IFWUGHT ! 303 
 
 lie embraced me warmly. A mason had just been erecting 
 a scaffolding in front of the door by which I left the 
 
 house ; as I crossed to the other side M. N said to 
 
 me : ' May God bless your journey. Perhaps we shall 
 meet above ; and ' — pointing upward with his hand — ' He 
 will lead us to His heavenly abode.' I thought that 
 which intervened between my soul and his — so devoted 
 to his Eoman faith, was but the scaffolding of his obser- 
 vances." 
 
 Vd>th. — Leaving Perpignan, he writes : " How I ought to 
 mamifv the Lord ! He has broudit me here — He has 
 sustained me in health and strength — He has suffered 
 me to preach several times a day — He has enabled me to 
 speak to many souls, and to write, besides, four tracts 
 which, by His grace, will serve to recall what I have said 
 to the memory of some, and will be the means of com- 
 municatincj to others the messasje of salvation."* Such is 
 the history of his mission to the south of France in 18.3G. 
 
 It is not our intention to follow him through his other 
 missionary tours ; the details we have just given will serve 
 to convey a true idea of them. Indeed, he has published an 
 account of some of them. In 1842, for example, he issued 
 his " Quatre-vingt Jours d'un Missionaire ; or, A Simple 
 Xarrative of the Various Toils of one of the Labourers in 
 
 * The (lay after Ins arrival at Perpignan he wrote the tract, " The Best 
 and Surest Way," which was sent by him to his friends at Toulouse, and 
 immediately printed. On the 10th he began " La Route Perdue." Finish- 
 ing that, he composed, on the 12th, an address to the congregations he hail 
 visited ; and returning home, after having taken leave of his hearers, ho 
 prepared, in connection with an expression he had overheard on the way, 
 the tract, " None are Bom Christians." He wrote at the same time also 
 "The Primitive Christians." 
 
 ^ 
 
304 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAN. 
 
 the Great Harvest ; " being notes of a preacliing tour that 
 year in Belgium and Holland. In 1843 appeared "A 
 Visit to Scotland;" in 1 84a, " A Fisher of Living Men," 
 the narrative of a second trip to Holland; in 1850, "A 
 Week in the Mountains;" in 1856, "Travelling Expe- 
 riences ; " and lastly, in the same year, after his return 
 from the Vaudois Valleys, " In Season and out of Season." 
 
 In all these publications, in addition to his personal 
 way of presenting the gospel, and the special importance 
 he attaches to setting forth the doctrine of sovereign 
 grace, his pages abound with a variety of striking thoughts, 
 and display a simple and fervent piety ; and also, as years 
 advance, abundant proofs of the matured strength which a 
 long habit of living with God and for God gives to a 
 simple and devout heart. 
 
 I shall content myself with quoting here a few of these 
 passages. For example, the following may serve to illus- 
 trate his sentiments, as well in reference to the results 
 which he anticipated from his mission, as also in regard to 
 those which he had already witnessed. 
 
 "At the commencement of my ministry I often attri- 
 buted to the Holy Spirit's operation, impressions produced 
 only by persuasive human language. More than once 
 have I had to note of that time, that I was building with 
 hay and stubble. For many years, however, I have learnt 
 that not every religious emotion comes from above. I know 
 that the Holy Spirit alone gives life. I try to discern His 
 whisper within, and to follow Hmi as I repeat His teach- 
 ings. I pray God to send down His Spirit on those I 
 address before they receive the Word. I am careful, 
 moreover, to commend to His grace such souls as tell me 
 
INCIDENTS, 305 
 
 of good received. But I leave everything to the Lord. I 
 prefer rather to wait for the result than to anticipate it."* 
 
 Further on, on quitting Belgium: "Oh, gracious God, 
 ll0^y easy has been the path Thou hast marked out for me 
 in this beautiful country 1 Thou hast brought me here to 
 speak of Jesus. Thou hast strengthened me by the Spirit 
 of peace and grace ; and, to crown all Thine acts of loving- 
 kindness, Thou hast kept me perpetually in the comforting 
 and cheering society of those who love Thee, and who have 
 declared to me their love in the faith, ""f* 
 
 Further on still, speaking of his visit to Holland, where 
 he had just preached twenty-nine times in twenty-seven 
 days : " It was a time of peace, of heavenly joy, of cheer- 
 ing, brotherly love. Eeceived by all as an old friend, 
 as a beloved brother, and as the messenger of Jesus ; hearts 
 and houses opened to welcome me." J 
 
 Dismissing for the present his account of his visit to 
 Scotland in 1843, which only bears upon his intercourse 
 with the Free Church in that country, I will insert here a 
 few extracts from his "Fisher of ]\Ien." In this book, 
 especially ^\Titten, as we have seen, after a fresh mission to 
 HoUand in 1845, are to be found his characteristic traits 
 and those felicitous expressions which he invariably had 
 at his command. 
 
 Thus, at Bide he stopped a quarrel at its commencement, 
 by whispering in the ear of a peasant, "Fear God and for- 
 give. God give you His peace." Afterwards the peasant 
 came up to him, and began an earnest conversation with 
 him. On another occasion, at the time of the Sonderbund 
 campaign, he asked a Swiss of the liberal party, who used 
 
 * " Quatre-vingt Jours," &c., p. 269. f Ibid., p. 371. Ill Ibid., p. 385. 
 
 U 
 
306 LIFE OF CAESAR MALAN. 
 
 violent language in speaking of the Jesuits, " Whether a 
 truncheon or stone-throwing would avail to drive away 
 darkness ?" A remark also followed up, in its turn, by a 
 prolonged conversation. 
 
 In the railway from Amsterdam to Arnheim, w^e see him 
 "sitting in his corner of the carriage, quite silent, and 
 watching for a moment when he might if possible introduce 
 some serious topic." He was not long in finding his oppor- 
 tunity. On another occasion, to a traveller describing 
 the " religious impression produced upon his mind when 
 he entered certain churches," Malan rej)lied, " Then if you 
 were blind, your piety would suffer." Again, he asked a joiner 
 wdio was enlarging upon his desire to render himself worthy 
 of the gTace of God, "whether any amount of polishing 
 would transform a piece of common wood into mahogany?" 
 I wish I could have quoted his conversation with a student, 
 on true and false philosophy, and with the Jesuit on 
 proselytism, a perfect model of guarded and courteous 
 irony. I miglit have referred to various incidents, giving 
 clearest evidence of his benevolent feeling tow^ards the 
 poor, the w^eak, the wandering, the unfortunate, and chil- 
 dren. I will confine myself here, however, to relating an 
 unlooked-for interview wdiich he had with a pious stranger. 
 " I feel," he said, " that the cordial affections which are in 
 Christ belong in effect to a separate existence, are a divine 
 power from which we have to descend before we can take 
 up earthly cares : just as, after havmg breathed the invig- 
 orating air of the high Alps, and contemplated the majestic 
 summits, we have to force ourselves back to the plain, to 
 trudge on once more along the dusty roads, and through 
 the midst of the towns and their surrounding death." We 
 
FELLOJFSEIFS. 307 
 
 recomise in this lanccuafTe the man who, whilst he had been 
 so often called upon to meet with brethren, lived with them 
 so little. These words of his, — the expression of a feeling 
 deep and lively, — may furnish to a thoughtful mind the key 
 to many traits which tended to separate my father from his 
 brethren, and to withdraw him from ordinary life. 
 
 What I should like, however, to quote more freely, is his 
 little publication entitled, "A "Week in the ^Mountains," 
 in which he describes a story in the Bernese Oberland, in 
 the summer of 1849, which contains numerous pages as 
 remarkable for the grace and the freshness of their style as 
 for the genuine feeling they so abundantly betray. 
 
 In 1856, after his visit to the Vaudois Valleys, he 
 published, as we have seen, his little book, called "In 
 Season and out of Season;" where we find, among other 
 things, the advice which his long experience dictated, to 
 young ecclesiastics. He was then nearly seventy ; it was 
 his last foreign mission. 
 
 In looking over all these volumes it is impossible to 
 help being struck, again and again, by that absolute assur- 
 ance of the personal love of God which forms the foun- 
 dation and centre of his entire spiritual life. This it was 
 that stirred up and sustained his activity. Thence he 
 derived his entire self-possession when he was confronted 
 by the smiles of the indifferent or imbelieving. Here was 
 the source of that strength wliich he was cnal)led to 
 maintain, in the midst of his isolation; of tliat joy and 
 peace which breathed through his lightest words ; as well as 
 of that simple ease, with which he addressed each and 
 all This is the sentiment, moreover, to which must be 
 traced that piety, the object of which is the Lord Jesus, 
 
'308 LIFE OF CyFSAE MALAN. 
 
 Whom lie calls his Saviour, his INIaster, his Brother, and to 
 Whom his whole heart is manifestly devoted. Here, and 
 here only, is the basis on which he rests his assured 
 triumphant life of future glory — here too, that consciousness 
 of the love of God for him, with which he feeds the springs 
 of his benevolent and charitable heart. To sum up all in 
 one word, this confidence is so conspicuous in his life, that 
 it is impossible to follow his career without seeing that it 
 realises the scriptural picture of the just man living by his 
 faith. 
 
 If such, however, be the impression produced by de- 
 scriptions such as these, with reference to the spiritual life 
 which animated the subject of them, there remains yet 
 one, entirely distinct, connected with the expression which 
 as a preacher he gave to it. At the first glance we 
 cannot but be struck, on the one hand, by that elevation 
 invariably produced in the soul of the believer by personal 
 and actual communion with God Himself, constantly 
 present in that soul's experience, and, on the other, by 
 the touching simplicity and infantine freshness of his 
 personal and devoted love for the Saviour, the more re- 
 markable in a man distinguished for the manly vigour and 
 independence of his character. As for the impression 
 produced by his method of teaching, shown in these in- 
 cidents, it is much more decided. 
 
 On this point, it is impossible to refrain from the 
 inquiry, as we lay down his treatises, whether, after all, the 
 gospel is altogether comprised in the invariable syllogism 
 they set forth; whether that strictly logical form, that 
 instinctive search after clearness in thought, and intel- 
 lectual truth, really exhausts the whole of the divine 
 
HOME AGAIN. 309 
 
 response to that heart-hunger and thmst which the gospel 
 pre-emmently meets. We ask involuntarily whether the 
 fact that this analysis of the divine scheme is so complete, 
 would not of itself empower ns to think that what we read 
 there can only be one side of that salvation of God which, 
 like all that is infinite and divine, can never be thoroughly 
 apprehended except by faith of heart. Eecurring, in justi- 
 fication of this remark, to what has already been said 
 about my father's dogmatism, I content myself with ex- 
 pressing a regret in tliis place, that these writings of his 
 are not more generally known. 
 
 Having taken this general survey of his missionary 
 activity abroad, from the year 1830, I now invite my 
 readers to retrace their steps, for the purpose of noticing 
 his labours during that same period in Geneva itself. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 PUBLIC LABOUES IN GENEVA FEOM THE YEAR 1830. 
 
 Till the day dawn, 
 And the Day Star arise, — 
 Church of the Living God, 
 Pursue thy upward road ; 
 Look not behind nor stray 
 'From the well-trodden way. 
 Be not ashamed to bear 
 Thy cross on earth, nor fear 
 Reproach and poverty, 
 For Him Who died for thee. 
 
 Section 1. — Controversial Protestantism (jq^ to 1836.) 
 
 The year 1830, so decisive an epocli in the history of 
 modern society, was similarly marked in Geneva, especially 
 by the development of that evangelical revival of the 
 French Protestant voiid, which took its rise in that city. 
 The agitation for freedom which passed at that time over 
 the whole of Europe, made itseK felt in the limited sphere 
 where those events unfolded themselves with which we are 
 now occupied. It was afterwards that the liberal move- 
 ment, which the revival had inaugurated, began to exercise 
 an increased influence on the public mind, in connection 
 with Protestantism. At the same time, this movement 
 changed its character. To the fervour of individual faith 
 
ABOVE TEE WORLD. 311 
 
 was added with augmenting force a claim for the rights of 
 Churches in reference to their external existence. 
 
 Meanwhile, if this is generally true of the part taken by 
 the instruments of the revival in Geneva, it does not apjjly 
 to my father. He continued to dedicate his thoughts with 
 ever-increasing earnestness to the life and faith of the in- 
 dividual believer. While labouring at the progressive 
 development of Churches, he never took a direct part in 
 what may be called the polemical aspect of the question. 
 Moreover, we notice invariably how little he appears on 
 the scene when topics of this kind, which, before 1830, 
 had involved him in so much obloquy in the little world 
 of the first revival, began especially after 1835, mainly 
 through the powerful influence of Vinet, to obtrude them- 
 selves, not only upon the attention of believers, but also 
 on all intelligent minds and friends of progress. Without 
 holding himself entirely aloof from so decisive an agitation 
 of the public mind, he nevertheless abstained altogether 
 from enrolling himself among those who appeared to attach 
 to it an essential importance. More solemnly engrossed, 
 as he ever was, with the eternal interest of souls exclu- 
 sively, he devoted himself supremely to labouring in that 
 direction, wherever it might be, which j)resented openings 
 bearing upon those interests. 
 
 Thus, for example, he followed with sympathising atten- 
 tion the agitation which developed itself, with daily in- 
 creasing clearness, in the bosom of the National Church. 
 The return to it of a new life appeared to him nothing 
 short of an answer to his constant and fervent prayers. 
 Moreover, it might have been said that he felt himself per- 
 sonally called upon to protest whenever he saw any error 
 
312 LIFE OF CESAR MALAK 
 
 publicly appearing, which seemed to him to embarrass the 
 progress of that movement. 
 
 Meanwhile, however strongly he appreciated the marked 
 impression produced in the official faculty of theology by 
 the teachinc^ of his old friend Diodati, however much he 
 rejoiced to note how that teaching by slow degrees served 
 to give a new direction to the minds of the junior clerg}% 
 however manifestly he afterwards participated in the re- 
 awakening of the Protestant sentiment which had mani- 
 fested itself in Geneva from the year 1835, he nevertheless 
 abstained from taking up the pen except when he considered 
 himself called upon directly to do so by circumstances 
 themselves. On this point, he never thought that the 
 simple fact, that he entertained a lively conviction, gave 
 him of itself a right to speak out. Here, as in everything, 
 he left it with God alone to take the initiative, and w^aited 
 for God to show him the way. When once such indications 
 had been undoubtedly granted him, he considered that, had 
 he kept silence, he would not only have been wanting in a 
 most sacred duty, but also that he would have been negli- 
 gent in that direction whither the deepest feelings of his 
 heart carried him. 
 
 In short, up to the very last he loved, with an unfeigned 
 love, his country and the Church of his fathers. There was 
 that in him, in this sentiment, which reminds one of the 
 feeling of honour that binds a soldier to his post, and com- 
 pels him to raise the alarm at the enemy's approach. He 
 loved to compare himself to a sentry, whose sole duty and 
 glory consists in earnest and faithful watching : to a sol- 
 dier whose charge depends only on tlie will of the com- 
 mander who has placed him where he is, and who alone 
 
PROFESSOR CHENEVIERE. 313 
 
 lias tlie right to recall him. " I am but the mere depository 
 of my testimony," he used to say. " It would be simpler 
 and easier for me to hold my tongue ; but then how should 
 I give account to my Master of the ministry He has com- 
 mitted to my keeping?" 
 
 Tliroughout the years to which our attention is now to 
 be drawn, his testimony bore in two special directions. 
 At first, as in 1831 and in 1835, he was stirred up by the 
 party demonstrations among the ranks of the senior 
 clergy of the National Church, whether directed against 
 the doctrines or the very existence of " Methodism." At 
 the commencement of 1838, certain writings which in- 
 volved liim personally, induced him to descend, for some 
 years, into the arena of the Eoman controversy. 
 
 In January 1831 Professor Cheneviere issued his 
 " Essay" on '' The Theological System of the Trinity ;" in 
 which, restrictino- himself to the recomition of Jesus 
 Christ as a divine being, he made a vigorous attack on 
 the Athanasian faith, in the name of the history of the 
 Primitive Church, of reason and of Scripture.* 
 
 This publication, in which, for the first time, as it 
 would seem, the majority of the " Compagnie," gave 
 definite expression to their views, appeared of sufficient 
 importance to the members of the Evangelical Society, to 
 determine them on founding their " school of theology." 
 
 As for my father, he could not ignore an attack which, 
 while it, undoubtedly, did not concern him personally 
 (like the Precis from the same pen seven years before), 
 was nevertheless directed, and that conspicuously, against 
 the doctrine for which he had already suffered. So, but a 
 
 * See De Goltz, " Genbve Kelig.," p. 377. 
 
314 LIFE OF CAESAR MALAN. 
 
 few days after the appearance of M. Clieneviere's publica- 
 tion, lie issued a reply addressed "to those families in 
 Geneva, who are sincerely seeking after, or who possess 
 and love, the truth as it is Jesus." He characterises the 
 work which had just been issued as " a detestable produc- 
 tion of the spirit of darkness ;" and, while reminding his 
 readers that " controversy is not piety, and that wranglings 
 and disputes never proved the truth which the ^Yord of 
 God contains for him who studies it in faith," he appeals, 
 in their presence, " to the simple testimony of that Word." 
 Shortly afterwards there appeared, as a second edition 
 of the Protest, a volume of two hundred pages, entitled, 
 " Jesus Christ is the Eternal God, Manifest in the Flesh ; 
 A First EejDly to the Writings of Professor Cheneviere 
 against the God of the Christian. By C. Malan, Minister 
 of our Great God and Saviour Jesus Christ." This work 
 reached its second edition immediately. An introduction, 
 on the danger of lookinoj for a new meaniue^ in the Word 
 of God, closed with these words, " Be old-fashioned in 
 your principles, in your views, and in your sentiments. 
 You never can be so as much as the Word or Spirit that 
 reveals it. Attend to, and read what God declares. 
 Enough for you if, with a heart surrendered to the Christ 
 of Whom all the Scriptures testify, you wait for the Holy 
 Spirit to reveal to your eyes the glory of Him Who only 
 is come from the Father." He then proceeds to draw the 
 attention of his readers to the importance, — decisive, so far 
 as the interests of the soul are concerned, — of a right 
 acquaintance with the nature of the Lord Jesus. His 
 Bible in his hand, he examines one by one the four 
 declarations — that Jesus Christ is self-existent — that He 
 
CUEIST IS GOD. 315 
 
 possesses sovereign power — that adoration is due only 
 to God, and that it is rendered to Jesus Christ — that 
 glory belongs only to the Eternal, and that Jesus Christ 
 has it. A few notes are add^d on passages referring to 
 the divinity of the Lord Jesus, and of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 It would he useless to seek in this volume an investiga- 
 tion of the divinity of the Lord Jesus, founded on a 
 specific idea of what divinity involves, in respect of its ap- 
 proaches to a divergence from what we are accustomed to 
 specify as humanity. It contains simply a kicid, and in- 
 variably animated exposition of the numerous passages of 
 Scripture which have been quoted in all times, in favour of 
 the cardinal doctrine stated above. While in this exposition 
 is to be found merely that special theology according to 
 which the whole Bible in every one of its parts, and 
 even in its very form, remains not only the testimony 
 of the divine operations for salvation, but also the rule of 
 the impression with which our faith in these facts should 
 be clothed ; while, as a natural consequence, it contains no 
 historical estimate of the testimony of the sacred writers ; 
 while the passages quoted are all brought forward on the 
 same footing ; — it is at the same time evident that the 
 writer is dealing with no mere process of thought, but 
 with the very centre and source of his own religious life. 
 In the introductory address, still bound up with the book, 
 this feeling is very evident. " See to it," says the witness 
 for living faith in Jesus Christ, " in what way Christ is 
 revealed to you. To this end, open, read, search, study 
 that Bible which teaclies nothing but the trutli. Either 
 Jesus Christ is the eternal God ; in which case worship 
 Him as such, and repudiate with abhorrence aU bias- 
 
316 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAK 
 
 phemies directed against Him ; or He is only a created 
 being, and you have no riglit to serve Him, or to partake 
 of the sacrament of His Supper. For in a word, to sum up 
 all discussion on the subject, and to give the result of the 
 most diligent inquiry that it is possible to make, either 
 the Saviour of the Church is the Creator, the eternal God, 
 or He is not ; and this alternative involves two faiths, two 
 religions ; as different, each from the other, as the Creator 
 is from His creatures." ^ Wliatever be the opinion enter- 
 tained as to the value of this reasoning, it would be 
 impossible to deny the importance of so eloquent and so 
 explicit an avowal in favour of the ancient faith, thus 
 presented as a confession supremely of the Saviour of the 
 soul ; — a confession destined never to die out, but to be 
 accepted in the world, for all time, so long as souls shall 
 exist conscious of their need of salvation. 
 
 It is difficult, at the present moment, to form an 
 adequate estimate of the sensation which this publication 
 produced in Geneva at the time of its first appearance. 
 That city resembled then a large family. More particularly, 
 nothing which transpired in the sphere of its religious life 
 remained a matter of indifference to any of its inhabitants. 
 " Public attention was so deeply aroused that the printing 
 
 * A remark iipon the language invariably employed by my father, with 
 reference to our Lord, will not be deemed unimportant. Neither he nor bis 
 orthodox brethren ever made use of the apostolical expression, " the 
 Christ," to this hour employed only by a very small section of the evangeli- 
 cal party. In speaking of the Saviour they always called Him " Christ.''^ 
 A nati;ral custom, inasmuch as they wei-e confronted by an express denial 
 of the divinity of the Lord Jesus, For the former of these designations, 
 indicating the office rather than the Person, tends to raise our contempla- 
 tion from His own Person to Him Who conferred that office. This is no 
 longer the case when the term Christ is employed ; inasmuch as that is an 
 essentially individual dt^ -ignation, in fact, a proper name. 
 
THE BIBLE OF GENEVA, 317 
 
 ofi&ce, from wliicli the reply was issued, was suiTouncled Ly 
 a crowd of people, who carried off the sheets, still damp 
 from the press, and read them in the street," as an eye- 
 witness assured me. 
 
 The year 1835 brought round, for the tliird time, the 
 celebration of the centenary of the jubilee of the Keforma- 
 tion. The majority of the people regarded the ceremony 
 as nothiuc^ more than a Gjreat national fete, intended to 
 recall the first rise of their political liberties. As for the 
 clergy of the National Church, their aim was to avail 
 themselves of the opportunity to recover an influence 
 threatened alike by the measures which the government 
 were adopting with the view of abridging their preroga- 
 tives, by the increasingly alarming advances of an aggressive 
 Catholicism, as well as by the rapid spread of orthodoxy 
 and religious activity, the starting of which tliey felt they 
 had too thoroughly abandoned to the dissenters. 
 
 Their first step was unfortunate. They chose that 
 moment for publishing a new translation of the Holy 
 Scriptures, prepared after much care, and many years of 
 labour, by the members of the " Compagnie." This was 
 that " Bible of Geneva," the language of which is un- 
 doubtedly very superior to the occasionally unintelligible 
 versions of Osterwald, and more especially of ^lartin, but 
 which, even in the Church of Geneva, is about to be set 
 aside for a new one. It is notorious that that publication 
 brought about a decisive rupture between the Britannic 
 and Foreign Biblical Society and the Biblical Society of 
 the Church of Geneva at that time. 
 
 jNIy father could not hold himself aloof from a festival 
 which associated itself witli his deepest feelings as a be- 
 
318 LIFE OF C^FSAR MALAN. 
 
 liever and a citizen. And, even had he desired to main- 
 tain silence, the opponents of the revival would never have 
 j^ermitted it. Filled, indeed, with a sense of triumphant 
 security, inspired by the reappearance of the Protestant 
 sentiments of the population, they imagined that the 
 moment had come for asserting publicly, and almost 
 officially, their opposition to that " Methodism," which 
 they persisted in regarding as nothing more than an 
 ephemeral and half-conquered innovation. At the very 
 beginning of the year, accordingly, there appeared an 
 announcement to the effect that a prize of one thousand 
 florins would be awarded to the best essay on the under- 
 mentioned subjects ; the prize to be confined to Genevese 
 clergymen, and the MSS. to be sent to Professor Cheneviere. 
 
 1. What are the causes which have led to the intro- 
 duction of Methodism into Geneva ? 
 
 2. AVhat are the evils and perils it brings to the State, 
 the National Church, and the well-being of sepiarate house- 
 holds ? 
 
 3. The best methods of attacking and driving it away. 
 The essays to be handed in to the care of Professor 
 
 Cheneviere. 
 
 In replying to this announcement my father issued in 
 February, under the title of " The Trial of Methodism 
 submitted to Competent Judges,"* a pamphlet of eighty 
 pages, perhaps the most striking of his numerous s^DCcial 
 publications. 
 
 " The subject is difficult," he says, in his Preface, " not 
 
 * " By Caesar IMalan, Doctor of Theology, minister," declared to be de- 
 posed of the Churcli of Geneva, and regent, " ejected of the college of that 
 city," with the motto, " It is time for Thee, Lord, to work." 
 
WHAT '' MEinODISM'' TEACHES. 319 
 
 in itself, our passions have rendered it so. For it invariably 
 happens in all that pertains to religious questions, that, 
 when opposing principles meet. Truth, whose voice is not 
 of this world, appears to speak in too low a tone, while 
 passions raise their cries to help her." 
 
 Such is the misfortune which attends discussions least 
 of all meriting it, — discussions on faith. It is true, that if 
 they were conducted by the people, and that, if the people 
 themselves were not led by others, they would, un- 
 doubtedly, be calmer, and, above all, less protracted. Of 
 this Geneva has had more proofs than one. Asperity, 
 occasionally malice, and even irony and satire have 
 wielded the pen which justice at least, to say nothing of 
 charity, ought alone to have employed; and religion has 
 wept over the advantage which it was thus pretended to 
 afford her. I desire to shun these evils in the important 
 investigation on which I am about to enter. The subject 
 is grave; on the one hand, it involves the glory of the 
 gospel, on the other, the welfare of Geneva ; two consider- 
 ations dear, each of them, to my heart. 
 
 Then in a style of g^eat occasional rapidity, and thrilling 
 witli emotion, he analyses one by one the three subjects of 
 the programme. 
 
 In replying to the first, he appeals, at the outset, to the 
 evidence of facts, as showing that the Methodism of 
 Geneva is nothing but the doctrine of the blessed Eeforma- 
 tion — the religion and faith of our forefathers — tlie 
 religion of tlie Bible, summed up under these three 
 principal heads : — The Most Holy Trinity, Original Sin, 
 and Salvation by Grace, accompanied in the heart hy the 
 love of the Lord Jesus. "Only," he adds, "if in 1535 
 
320 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 those wlio loved the Bible were esteemed in Geneva ; — in 
 l8o5 the fete of the jubilee of that glorious and mighty 
 event is inaugurated by utterances directed against those 
 friends of the Lord Jesus, and by the issue of a programme 
 in which it it is suggested as a subject of debate, how they 
 may be driven from Geneva." He then shows that this 
 Genevese Methodism, a vigorous offshoot of. the religion of 
 our fathers, or rather of the sacred truth of the Bible which 
 they professed, was called forth by the heresies of the last 
 century, and appeared when the tree of the Eeformation 
 was threatened with death. 
 
 In his answer to the second question, (in which he refers 
 to two of his previously issued publications : " Are jNIomiers 
 injurious or necessary to the welfare of a State ?" 1823 ; 
 and " Genevese Methodism," in 1831, a re]3ly to an attack 
 by the Journal of Geneva of that time), he unfolds the 
 principles of these " Methodists." They belong to the 
 Universal Church ; they follow the Bible. As for their 
 morals, they exhibit individually a humble, pacific, just, 
 charitable, temperate, pious, religious spirit. In proof of 
 all this, he appeals to facts patent to his opponents, which 
 he presses home with clear and direct appeals, through 
 which may be traced the indignation which an honest man 
 experiences at the spectacle of prejudice and injustice. 
 
 As to the means of banishing Methodism, after enumerat- 
 ing forces which had been already tried in vain, — con- 
 tempt, hatred, opposition, and the secular arm, — he finishes 
 by naming the only one likely to prove effectual. " Take 
 away the Bible," he exclaims, " and Methodism disappears. 
 Without that, you may abandon all hope of success. 
 Methodism is Christianity ; be assured of that : and Chris- 
 
REPLY TO CIIENEVIERE. 321 
 
 tianity is the Bible ; and the Bible is the AVord of God ; 
 and God is over all. Fear Him." 
 
 " I have replied," he says in conclusion, " but \vithout 
 competing for tlie prize. I neither judge nor condemn. 
 Alas, who would judge unhappy souls ! I would rather 
 humble myself before God for the grace that has rescued 
 me from such ignorance and unbelief. I, too, for many 
 years neglected the Holy Bible. I, too, despised and con- 
 tradicted the doctrines of grace. I was then a candidate 
 for the ministry. I was afterwards a minister, and I 
 preached error. I, too, denounced the meetings of the 
 brethren, and at that time wished they would cease, while 
 I carefully kept my friends away from them. God has had 
 compassion upon me. He has opened my eyes, and shown 
 me my sin. He has granted me repentance. He has con- 
 verted me to the Lord Jesus. Tlie riches of His mercy are 
 ever the same. He can rouse a slumbering heart, and 
 m.YQ, understanding^ to those who lack it. He has done all 
 this for my soul. Oh that in His loving-kindness he may 
 do it for others, and that it may soon be said in Geneva, 
 ' Those who once persecuted the faithful now preach tlie 
 faith which lately they destroyed.' " 
 
 At the same time that he issued this pamphlet, he 
 announced, as " The Unanswerable Beply of John Calvin 
 himself, and of his Brethren, the Pastors of the Church of 
 Geneva, to Professor Cheneviere's book against Divine 
 Election," a reprint of " The Congregation of Calvin." A 
 copy of this little work, for a long time nearly forgotten, 
 had been sent to him in 1820, with a few jesting words, by 
 a bookseller in the town, and had proved to him for a long 
 jtime, as he says himself, " a constant and precious study." 
 
 X 
 
322 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAN. 
 
 With reference to tlie programme on " tlie Extirpation 
 of Methodism," it does not appear that the prize of one 
 thousand florins was adjudged. 
 
 Meanwhile, every preparation was being made for the 
 fete which was to take place in August. After having 
 assumed the defence of the cause of evangelical revival, my 
 father wished to make known to the public what the fes- 
 tival ought to be. 
 
 In one of those popular dialogues which he knew so 
 well how to ^Tite, entitled, " The True. Jubilee," he shows 
 the impropriety of celebrating the festival of that Eefor- 
 mation, founded, in common with all Protestantism and 
 Christianity, on the truth that Jesus Christ is God mani- 
 fest in the flesh, if the solemnity is to be regarded as merely 
 a national commemoration of the dawn of a new era of 
 social and political liberty. Eeminding his readers that 
 the Eeformed population of the Canton de Vaud, of Scot- 
 land, of Holland, and other parts, had declared that they 
 would have nothing to do with those in Geneva, as far as 
 the jubilee was concerned, so long as their only idea of 
 celebrating it was in effect, as he says, to raise a subscrip- 
 tion for curtains and painted windows for their cathedral, 
 he repeats to his fellow citizens that text which " neither 
 people, nor priests, nor ministers, nor philosophers, nor 
 learned men will ever be able to destroy, ' If any man have 
 not the spirit of Christ, he is none of His.' " 
 
 Thus, then, no less as a Genevese Protestant than as an 
 orthodox believer, he found it impossible to unite with 
 the promoters of the fete. " Originally," he said, " Popery, 
 by means of the Eeformation, was expelled from the State ; 
 now it is recovering its ground among us. Moreover, the 
 
THE JUBILEE. 323 
 
 Eeformation founded the Cluircli of Geneva on the sacred 
 truths of original sin, the divinity of Jesus Christ, and the 
 justification of the sinner by faith in the blood of Jesus ; 
 now, this very essence of the Eeformation is generally denied 
 botli by ministers and people. Finally, the Eeformation 
 established in Geneva a firm and holy discipline, insuring 
 respect, at least externally, to the authority of the com- 
 mandments of God; now there is nothing of the kind. 
 I am persuaded," he exclaims, "that the troubles which 
 have visited Geneva, for the last century — her revolutions, 
 her enslavement, and the return of Popery to her midst — 
 have sprung out of her unfaithfulness, her unbelief, the 
 rebellion of her people against the Lord Jesus Christ; 
 and I have no doubt whatever, that a festival celebrated 
 without repentance and humiliation will prove to the 
 nation a new snare, in which she will be yet more and 
 more involved."' 
 
 As for himself, he will " join in celebrating the jubilee, 
 with all such in the State as love the Lord Jesus Christ in 
 sincerity, by prayers to God for the poor Genevese." 
 "While the people were in the highest pitch of their 
 excitement," says de Goltz, "the three dissenting con- 
 gregations occupied themselves in praying fervently to 
 God for the conversion of their fellow citizens. In ]\Ialan's 
 chapel especially, they sang 'the four hymns for the tliird 
 jubilee of the Eeformation in Geneva,' which their pastor 
 had just published." 
 
 The anticipation which closed the earnest and thouglit- 
 ful pages from which we have just quoted, could not but be 
 realised. The celebration of the Eeformation Jubilee of 
 1835, in Geneva, was unquestionably attended by most 
 
324 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 lamentable consequences * ISTot to speak of the religious 
 life of the Protestant population, we are compelled to date 
 from this period that destruction, in the very home of the 
 Eeformation and the great Eeformer, of the wholesome 
 reverence with which they had hitherto been invested. 
 Calvin, in the popular judgment, was regarded no longer 
 as a kind of prophet and providential legislator, — a 
 representative of a roused conscience and of the heart's 
 return to repentance and a holy God, He came to be 
 looked upon only as one of the many "great men" of 
 Geneva. Eobbed of their evangelical aspect by a clergy 
 which had expelled from its dogmatic traditions every- 
 thing savouring of this special character, the recollections 
 of the Eeformation ceased to be associated in the public 
 mind, with an all but miraculous interposition, by which 
 the hand of God revealed itself in the national history. 
 They became the bare remembrances of a national revolu- 
 tion in the political and social life of the country. N"or was 
 it possible thus to blot out the record of the work of God in 
 history, without effacing by degrees its presence from 
 individual life. Thus it came to pass that, from that 
 period especially, unbelief — and that too in the most fatal 
 of all its phases, indifference — began to show itself among 
 the Protestant masses of Geneva. A natural result was 
 that absolute contempt of all authority, which has char- 
 acterised from that time, and through so many years, the 
 civil life of the population. 
 
 But if the forebodings of irood men were thus mourn- 
 
 o o 
 
 fully realised, their prayers were undoubtedly heard. To- 
 
 * See de Goltz; ''Geneve Eeligieuse," p. 426. 
 
METHODISM. 325 
 
 getlier with this perilous indifference, appeared another 
 phase of it, of a totally opposite character. 
 
 The very year which was to witness the extinction of 
 Methodism proved, on the contrary, in the revival of that 
 faith and life to wliicli the stigma of this name was 
 attached, the commencement of a period in which it 
 depended only on itself to stamp its impress on the pub- 
 lic life of the country. From 1835, — the period of the 
 issue of the " Trial of Methodism," — the attacks upon it, 
 more or less official, ceased. The evangelical movement, 
 recognised by the majority in its true character, was ad- 
 mitted by degrees, in public opinion, to the j^i'ivileged 
 position of a common right. This arose from various 
 causes. In the first place, the revival of old Protestant 
 animosities, produced in the people by the celebration of 
 the jubilee after the fashion conceived of by the national 
 clergy, induced the more serious portion to betake them- 
 selves afresh to the consideration of religious questions. 
 Such persons soon discovered that all that the clergy had 
 thus accomplished was the rekindling of the religious 
 passions of a by-gone age. Nor could they fail to observe 
 that all this official agitation had tended to no practical 
 results beyond the secret formation of the " Protestant 
 Union." Apart, however, from sundry partial efforts at 
 reintroducing some of the religious customs of old Geneva 
 into family life, this Union was, at bottom, nothing 
 more nor less than a secret society intended, under the 
 pretext of defending Protestantism, to isolate the 
 Catholics from the population of which they formed a 
 part. Eeflecting men, who saw in Protestantism some- 
 
326 LIFE OF CJESAB MALAK 
 
 tiling more tlian a mere remembrance of national glories 
 and a hatred of priests — men who had come to see in it the 
 very liberty of the soul, and free access to the word of the 
 gospel for themselves and their families — such men soon 
 discovered that it was not by methods like these that 
 it was possible to dissipate the perils that threatened 
 them, whether from superstition or unl^elief. Instructed 
 by the dismay caused them through ultramontane fana- 
 ticism, they went on to repudiate fanaticism of every 
 kind ; and, by degrees, understood that their only possible 
 weapon of defence was a clear, earnest, and, above all, 
 definite faith. 
 
 This became apparent when my father (to return to the 
 subject of these memoirs) found himself called upon, as we 
 shall soon see, to take in hand the defence of evangelical 
 truth. Moreover, the men, to whom we have just referred, 
 gave their attention ; and the people, generally forgetting 
 the gibes and insults which they had so recently lavished 
 on the " Momier," adopted him from that time as the 
 champion of the slighted rights of the old Protestantism of 
 Geneva. 
 
 From this time also, he came to be invested with a cer- 
 tain amount of consideration among the population gene- 
 rally. This reversion of opinion came too late, indeed, 
 to effect any change in the position he had occupied 
 through so many years ; and it is to be questioned 
 whether, secluded as he was from the society in which 
 he lived, he even perceived the gradual change in the 
 popular feeling towards him. To others, however, the 
 reaction was very evident. It happened at the same time 
 with a distinct revival in a considerable portion of the 
 
LIGHT IN THE EVENING. 327 
 
 population, if not of religious life, at least of sincere 
 attention to the religions interests of the country. Continu- 
 ing firm in their attachment to the Church, the very name 
 of which recalled in itself the old associations of Pro- 
 testantism, they soon learned to separate the sacred cause of 
 that Church from what was, after all, nothing more than 
 the cause of her clergy. This speedily became apparent 
 when, on the occasion of a change which supervened in 
 the political administration, it was decided to deprive 
 the clergy of the exclusive direction of ecclesiastical in- 
 terests. 
 
 Scarcely had this occurred, however, than it was fol- 
 lowed by a marked change in the life of the Xational 
 Church. The prohibition of the preaching of the gospel 
 being withdrawn, it soon revived on all sides, while liberty 
 of worship, hitherto existing only in the habits and man- 
 ners of the people, found its way into the statute book. 
 
 Trom that time, too, my father was no longer summoned 
 to repel attacks directed against him, more or less openly, 
 by the national clergy. The few publications of this kind 
 Avhich he continued to issue became mixed up with writ- 
 ings of a generally controversial nature, or, at all events, 
 are impressed with the special and occasionally personal 
 character of the circumstances which give rise to them.* 
 
 * We may quote here, in illustration of the above remarks, the follow- 
 ing publications : In 1845, " Sectaries Discharging Pastoral Functions," 
 " A Unitarian Pastor of Geneva," and " Christians, Beware of Arianism," 
 directed against a production of the pastor Othamare. In 1846, " The 
 Essential Lacking," on the occasion of conferences held at the time by 
 "orthodox" pastors of the National Church; and, in 1847, "Protest 
 of an Old French Refugee against the So^jhisms of a Socinian Work," 
 called forth by a book, entitled, " Doctrine of Sacrifices, in their relation to 
 Christ." 
 
328 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAN. 
 
 For the rest, not to mention a volume of sermons pub- 
 lished in 1833,* he had also issued, in March 1835, his 
 " Mistake of Christians, with regard to Assurance of Salva- 
 tion," and a little narrative work, entitled, " Manasseh ; " 
 in May appeared the first edition of his " Speaking Vig- 
 nettes," got up in little stanzas for children ; in December, 
 " The Baptized Family," already referred to ; and, lastly, 
 a metrical version of the Psalms, on which it is necessary 
 to say a few words, -f- 
 
 It will be remembered, probably, that in 1824 he had 
 issued, under the title of " A mere Essay," a first instal- 
 ment of this work, containing the first fifty psalms with 
 the music. The universal success of his hymns, however, 
 prevented attention being directed to this new issue. The 
 one hundred and fifty psalms, published in 1835, attracted 
 even less notice. In short, after having aimed at rendering 
 the thoughts of the Psalms in strictly evangelical language, 
 he decided, in the end, on folio win cf the advice of some 
 friends, who, out of respect for the literal authority of the 
 Scriptures, urged him to confine himself strictly to the 
 very words of the Old Testament. AYhat inclines us to 
 believe that, had he adhered to his original scheme, his 
 versions would have been more popular, is the fact that 
 several of those which he wrote in 1824 became generally 
 known, and are sung up to the present moment. He 
 
 * " Six Sermons delivered in the Chapel of Witness," also published sepa- 
 rately luider the titles, " The Love of the Spirit ; " " The Unbeliever Per- 
 ishing through his own Fault alone;" " Sanctification Inseparable from 
 Salvation ; " " Good Seed Sown in Good Ground ; " " The True Treasure ; " 
 " The Supper of the Lord is Truth and Life." 
 
 + "Songs of Israel; or, The Psabus, Hymns, and Canticles of the Bible, 
 versified and set to music." 
 
AT HOME. 329 
 
 reverted himself to his primary idea in the selection he 
 made of some of the psalms for the latest editions of the 
 Songs of Zion, as also, wherever he attempted fresh ver- 
 sions of some of them, employing always J^ew Testament 
 lanijua^re. 
 
 CD O 
 
 Section 2. — Malan testifying to the truth in his oum house, 
 and to stranfjers lulio visited him. 
 
 Before noticing the labours to which my father devoted 
 himself from 1837, in the matter of the Eoman contro- 
 versy, it would be desirable to pause in what might prove 
 to be but a mere nominal list of publications, for the sake 
 of glancing at his private ministry, if I may so describe it, 
 in his own household. 
 
 These, indeed, were the years of his vigour and maturity. 
 The attacks of the Genevese clergy had ceased. The fierce 
 and brutal opposition of the loAver orders had begun to 
 subside; the recollection of the trying disputes with the 
 extreme dissenters before 1829 had worn away. He was 
 in the prime of life, and a missionary career, for which he 
 felt himself peculiarly adapted, opened widely before him.* 
 At Geneva, while he followed an independent course, and 
 held aloof, in this respect, from his brethren, his life was 
 energetic and fully occuj^ied. His house was visited by 
 numerous strangers,*}* his cliildren were nearly all at home 
 
 * In the spring of 183G lie made Lis first great missionary expedition to 
 the south of France. 
 
 f There might be seen Darby, Tholuck (who stayed some time at Pre- 
 Beni), Kirk, or Cheever of New York, with men like Count Zaremba, the 
 Polish missionary, or Sc^latz, the Hungarian. In connection with the last 
 named, I remember that one (hiy the conversation at table was to be con- 
 ducted in Latin, as the only language common to all. 
 
330 LIFE OF CyFSAE MALAN. 
 
 at this time, liis wliole existence was bright, prosperous, 
 and full of force. 
 
 I cannot refrain from inserting liere the notice from the 
 pen of Dr Ostertag, to which I have already adverted. 
 "While it records the testimony of a well-known and 
 highly-esteemed man, it is, moreover, the witness of one 
 who was wholly apart from the prejudices and partialities 
 of Geneva ; more than this, of one who, as we shall see, 
 would have differed from my father on those very points 
 to which he attached the great&st importance. Present- 
 ing, as it does, various traits of the personal and family 
 life of the sul^ject of this memoir, this circumstance alone 
 would warrant me in submitting it to my readers. I only 
 regret that a translation, necessarily abridged, must fail in 
 reproducing the glowing tone and graceful style which 
 mark the original. It may be as well to add that I have 
 omitted (only, however, when they occur in eulogistic ex- 
 pressions) a few superlatives, for which tlie German is 
 better adapted than the French. 
 
 He commences his description by telling us that when 
 he arrived at Geneva, (he was then a candidate in theology), 
 " his first proceeding was to visit Malan," and that he 
 found in him " a man of God who had already exercised 
 a conspicuous influence over his own inner life." 
 
 '' His house was outside the town, in a pretty large gar- 
 den, at the bottom of which might be seen the chapel — a 
 simple but suitable building. When I came inside the 
 enclosure, I was told that the evening service was then 
 ffoincj on. After listenini? under the windows till it was 
 over, I saw the venerable man come out in company with 
 a stransrer from Scotland. He greeted me in the most 
 
HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 331 
 
 affectionate manner ^vitli that grace and dignity wliicli 
 characterised him. 
 
 " The first impression produced in my mind by seeing 
 Malan was that of a noble and imposing personage. His 
 figure was a little above the average height ; Ids frame 
 compact and vigorous ; while his attitude had about it a 
 semi-military air not the less simple and natural. There 
 was nothini::^ in him studied or affected. His broad 
 shoulders supported a magnificent head ; his forehead was 
 expanded and lofty, suggesting the idea of power ; his eyes 
 sparkled with wit and fire, while at the same time his 
 affectionate expression captivated you on the spot, and 
 held you in chains. His finely car\'ed mouth betrayed an 
 iron will and a thorough benevolence, while it indicated at 
 the same time that special gracefulness which stamps the 
 orator. His luxuriant hair, already white (he was then 
 about fifty years old), flowed down to his shoulders. For 
 the rest, his black dress, straight collar, and white cravat, 
 at once marked the clergyman. 
 
 " After greeting me as an old acquaintance, he conducted 
 me to a room which opened into the garden, where he in- 
 troduced me to his wife and to some of his dau^liters. 
 She, with her distinguished, yet simple air, recalled, to me 
 the picture of a mother of a family in a German household. 
 
 "' And what brings you here ?' he asked, as soon as we 
 were seated. When I had told him that I had come to 
 pay a visit to Geneva, he interrupted me by asking, ' Where 
 are you lodging V ' Come,' he added, ' when I had 
 named the hotel, ' have your things brought here, and 
 make yourself comfortable under my roof.' I was afraid 
 of being in the way, partly because ^Malan was not equally 
 
332 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAN. 
 
 admired by all tliose whom I purposed visiting ; but even 
 more, because, in my youth and inexperience, I dreaded 
 his superior powers, and that sort of evangelical fanaticism 
 with which he endeavoured invariably to bring others over 
 to the exaggerated rigour of his Calvinism. Guessing my 
 thoughts apparently from my silence, he said, ' Don't be 
 afraid to come ; you are perfectly free wdth us ; go and 
 settle your affairs, and be back to tea.' This decided me, and 
 many a time since have I thanked God for my decision." 
 When Ostertag came in the evening to stay with his 
 
 host, he found there, amongst others, the Eev. 
 
 Bennett, well known for his voyage round the world with 
 his friend Tyermann, to visit the different stations of evan- 
 gelical missions. " To me," he says, " the evening was full 
 of interest and instruction. It may be generally remarked 
 that ]\Ialan's hospitable roof was a rendezvous for people 
 from every country, and that never a week passed without 
 strangers of every kind being gathered beneath it. To 
 these he devoted himself with an entire oblivion of self; 
 and as he was not only a man fitted for society, but one 
 also who knew how to brincf out of his treasures thincfs 
 
 o o 
 
 new and old, the conversation at once became, if not 
 thoroughly serious, at least invariably instructive. When 
 he invited his visitors to tea, as he often did, he took his 
 place in the centre of the large table, his guests being 
 arranged on either side, or opposite to him, and his 
 numerous family to the right or left, in such a way as 
 that he might take in all at a glance. A look sufficed to 
 keep his children in order, or to admonish them of any 
 carelessness or omission. The style of the repast was a 
 mixture of Genevese and English customs. 
 
THE FAMILY ALTAR. 333 
 
 " Tliere were no brighter seasons in liis domestic life than 
 the periods of family worship — these were precious hours 
 of blessing and revival. It is needless to say that all who 
 were in the house were present, guests and servants 
 included. One of the children brought a round table,'^ 
 which was drawn forward, with the family Bible and a 
 book of Malan's hymns upon it, and placed before the 
 chair to be occupied by the head of the family. His eldest 
 daughter took her place at the piano, whilst the rest of us 
 were arranged in a circle with our Bibles in our hands. 
 
 "He commenced with a very short prayer, which he 
 offered sitting. Then he gave out a hymn, which those 
 present sung, generally from memory. He next read, 
 with great solemnity, a chapter of the Bible, putting such 
 expression into the words as was often an exposition in 
 itself. Then he spoke for about a quarter of an hour on 
 what he had read, generally with special unction, and 
 always taking care to apply it to the individual needs of 
 those he was addressing. Last came the prayer, when all 
 knelt; it was full of the praise of God, and of thanksgiving for 
 the great work of salvation. He ^\'as in the habit, moreover, 
 in his concluding prayer, of commending to tlie Lord, great 
 and small, individuals and comnninities, the Cliuroh of 
 Christ, her internal (piickening, and her extension tln'oiigh 
 the world. His native country, Switzerland and Clcneva, 
 
 * I pos-ess that round tal)le still. IMy father made it hiiusclf, for my 
 mother, as an offering on her wetlding-day, with several other specimens of 
 his workmanship. In those days (as my mother has often told me) his i)osition 
 was very straitened, while he was not the man to offer a present of which 
 he could not have defrayed the expense out of his own resources. Through- 
 out his whole life my father scrupulously avoided debt. Eoth he and my 
 mother knew how to content themselves Avith little. 
 
334 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 the city he so clearly loved, his little church, with its 
 especial needs, the members of his household, whether as 
 regarded their interests or their pleasures, with the circum- 
 stances of their daily life. He made special reference 
 also to his quests, foUowinsr the callino^ of each, the state of 
 his soul, his projects and personal position. All these 
 requests were laid before the Father of mercies in the 
 name of the Lord Jesus, with such confidence and inti- 
 macy of communion, that in rising from a prayer like that 
 one felt refreshed and streno-thened. 
 
 " I now understood the source of that sweet temper, 
 always the same, that freshness of mind which distinguished 
 this noble father of the household. I could account for that 
 cordial attachment and mutual kindliness which reigned 
 among his children ; I discovered the secret of that cheer- 
 fulness and radiance which produced so favourable an 
 impression on every guest privileged to visit there. 
 
 " I soon discovered, too, that the spirit of prayer pervaded 
 the whole family life. I could see that, whenever any of 
 his children or of the members of his family happened to 
 be anxious or troubled by anything whatever, this true 
 head of the household either urged him affectionately to 
 seek God in prayer, assuring him that he himself would do 
 so for him at the same time, or else took him aside and 
 prayed with him, after a few words of earnest private con- 
 verse." 
 
 What Ostertag says on this point recalls to my mind 
 powerfully reminiscences of childhood, too early effaced by 
 the events of after years. My father was most thoroughly 
 a man of prayer. He was often supplicating for himself ; 
 and, as for his intercourse with others, he was in the habit, 
 
 i 
 
IVAITING ON GOD. 335 
 
 as far as possible, of leaving no one with whom lie felt him- 
 self in communion without praying with him. ISTever did 
 he set out from home ; never did he see any of us, or even 
 a friend, set out ; without assembling all the houseliold, to 
 commend to tlie Supreme Head those who, however they 
 might be separated from one another, were still one under 
 His eye. So, too, the first thing he did on his return from 
 a journey, after he had embraced us all round, was to return 
 thanks to God for the protection he had vouchsafed to liim 
 and us, and for His mercy in reuniting us. Xever did he 
 sit down to table, were it only to take a basin of broth, 
 without first bendinf>- his head a few moments to return 
 tlianks, whether he were in his room, or amouLi- his familv, 
 or at a table d'hote surrounded by strangers. It was in 
 this necessity which lay upon him to ask God's help in 
 everything, that he illustrated his view of the principle, 
 " all things of God," his dogmatic expression of which has 
 pained so many people. " AVe must go to God at once," 
 he used to say to us, '' and not wait till we have exhausted 
 all other means. Before deciding on, or undertaking any- 
 thing, whatever it be, we should never forget to ask counsel 
 of the Lord." 
 
 After remarking that the Sunday services failed to make 
 the impression upon him that he expected, cither because 
 the chapel was so thinly attended, or because he recognised 
 in my father's words evident allusions to conversations they 
 had had together, Ostertag goes on to say, " I can never- 
 theless testify, with joy and gratitude, that hi.s ministra- 
 tions were always animated by a spirit of true charity, and 
 that they never produced in my mind an unfavourable 
 impression against that excellent man. 1 found in them 
 
336 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 invariably sucli unction, solemnity, and warmth of heart, 
 that I never went empty away. 
 
 " In his house, the Sunday was observed with all the 
 rigour of Scotch Protestantism. To me this was a source 
 of trouble and discomfort. Everybody knows that, on this 
 point, the Lutheran Church, in its teaching and tendency, 
 differs from the Keformed Church of Scotland. Beyond 
 all doubt, one cannot help detecting in the Scotch fashion 
 a return to those fables and weak rudiments of the world 
 from which Christ has redeemed us (a return which may 
 not be regarded as a matter of indifference). And yet this 
 zeal seemed worthy of all praise, when we compare it with 
 the habitual profanation of the Sabbath in our towns and 
 villages, as much amonsr Protestants as amono- Ptomanists. 
 One fact remains, that God has blessed the seventh day, 
 that He set it apart for all mankind (long before tlie 
 Levitical law, long time even before there was a people of 
 God), that men may relinquish labour for rest, disturbance 
 for repose, distraction for reflection ; in a word, the world 
 for Himself But to return to Malan. 
 
 " One Sunday I heard his voice from the garden into wdiich 
 my window looked, calling to me, and asking, ' What are 
 you about just now?' 'I am writing some letters,' I re- 
 plied through the window. ' Come into the garden then,' 
 was his reply, ' we have important things to talk about.' 
 I lost no time in complying with his request ; and we were 
 no sooner seated on a bench than he said, ' Do you know 
 that you are breaking God's commandment by doing work 
 on the Sabbath V 'By doing work on the Sabbath ? ' I 
 replied in amazement. 'Do you know the fourth com- 
 mandment V (the third, according to the Lutherans). 
 
THE FOURTH COMMANDMENT. 337 
 
 ' Certainly," I answered ; ' but how have I broken it ? ' 
 ' Thou slialt do no manner of work on the Sabbath-day,' 
 he rejoined, in solemn tones ; repeating, while he laid em- 
 phasis on the words, 'no manner of Avork. 'To write 
 letters is to do work, is it not ? Is this work connected 
 with God, to Whom the day belongs ? Have you no spare 
 time for this during the week ? Have you nothing to-day 
 to put in order with your God, with reference to the past ? 
 Nothing to say to Him ? Nothing to ask of Him for the 
 days which are before you ? ]\Iy friend, you keep back 
 from God the honour which belongs to Him, and you wrong 
 your own soul.' 
 
 " I felt the force of his words, though I made no reply ; 
 while, at the same time, many counter arguments occurred 
 to me. ' Undoubtedly you will have many objections to 
 make to what I say,' he continued ; ' but listen to me 
 nothwithstanding. Xo true Christian has, as yet, ven- 
 tured to declare that the sixth commandment, " Thou 
 shalt do no murder," is obsolete, and has ceased to be 
 a rule for Christian practice. On the contrary, in the 
 economy of the new covenant, this commandment is so 
 enforced as to be made to extend even to uncharitable 
 words, even to thoughts of ill-will. It is the same with 
 the seventh and eightli, with all the comniandments of 
 the two tables. Should, then, tlie fourth be lield to be 
 abolished ? Ought we not rather to allow of this com- 
 mandment what is true of tlie others, that it, too, is even 
 more strenuously enforced under the new dispensation. 
 My friend, turn over tliis sentence in your mind, honestly, 
 seriously, * Thou shalt do no manner of work.' 
 
 " I was about to reply, when he interrupted me with. 
 
•338 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 ' Hear me out. There is my house ! There we keep the 
 fourth commandment in an earnest way. My youngest 
 children realise the obligation of desisting from the six 
 days' work, and of living on the Sabbath-day only for 
 God and their Saviour. Xow notice the result of that 
 obedience among us. God has blessed the seventh day, 
 and that blessing is renewed to the present moment in all 
 its power. God has blessed my house. You may trace 
 that blessing in our domestic happiness, in the peace 
 which reigns among us. You may see it in my children. 
 Yes, my friend, we must be in earnest in dealing with 
 the commandments of God. Then He, for His part, will 
 be found true to the fulfilment of His promises.' " 
 
 After replying that, notwithstanding the serious and 
 convincing arguments he had listened to, he still was 
 unable to admit that the Christian Sunday was the Jewish 
 Sabbath, Ostertag tells us that he assured my father that 
 he preferred his rigour to the opposite tendency, and that, 
 at all events, he would cheerfully bind himself, so long as 
 lie remained under his roof, to order his own conduct by 
 the rules of the house. 
 
 " Malan," he adds, " was not satisfied. He interrupted 
 me constantly, and endeavoured with much persuasive- 
 ness, and often with marvellous skill of sophistry, to over- 
 turn my arguments.* Obliged, however, to be satisfied 
 
 * I imagine that this word sophistry does not bear in the German the 
 unfavourable sense that is attached to it in our language. I believe it 
 applies there to a man who reasons falsely, and does not necessarily convey, 
 as it does with us, the idea of a dishonest man — that is, of one who seeks 
 to take advantage of, and to trip up his opponent. I would add, moreover, 
 with reference to my father's Sabbatarian views, that allowance must be 
 made for the impression produced on a young stranger by the way in which 
 they were presented. As a matter of fact, the Sunday in the Pre-Beni was 
 
THE CRUCIFIX. 339 
 
 with the promise I had made to him, he concluded by 
 saying that he trusted that ' during that time I should be 
 converted.' That hope was not realised, certainly, in the 
 sense in which he expressed it ; and yet, in that matter also, 
 I carried away with me from his house a great and lasting 
 blessing. Since then I have sought, with God's help, not 
 only to cherish more earnest views as to the thorough 
 sanctification of the Lord's day, but also, in course of time, 
 to seek, as far as I could, to introduce the blessing into 
 my own house." 
 
 Ostertag saw, at this time, an example of what he 
 calls, in my father, " an Old Testament tendency," in 
 the manner in which he, in common with all Eeformed 
 Churches, interpreted the commandment against images, 
 on the authority of which he repudiated every species of 
 representation of the Deity, as well as the crucifix, as an 
 object of worship.* 
 
 Meanwhile Ostertag went to Lausanne, on the occasion 
 
 very far from being a JeAvish Sabbath. For my own part, while I entirely 
 agree with Dr Ostertag on this point, I can only recall with regret, on many 
 grounds, that these Sabbaths of my youth are passed. 
 
 * It was not altogether as an image that my father objected to the 
 crucifix, which, as every one knows, is adopted by the Lutherans. He 
 himself placed in the hands of his younger children illustrated Bibles, from 
 which he only banished representations of the eternal Father and of the 
 devil. He rejected the crucifix chiefly as being a false resemblance. See 
 his tract, " Why am I a Protestant?" p. 20. 
 
 In a letter to one of his children, in 1850, I find the following : — "For 
 my part I do not like to see representations of the Lord Jesus. He 
 appeared to John, and the apostle ' fell at His feet. ' He is never repre- 
 sented as He is, not even as He was ; for He is God, and God cannot be 
 represented. Let His marvellous meekness and kindness be ever more and 
 more demonstrated to our souls ; but let it be through the Holy Spirit, 
 in the heart, and not by our own imagination, and the work of man's 
 hand." This shows us that my father never supposed, for a moment, that 
 the Holy Spirit could ever avail Himself of the faculty of imagination. 
 
340 LIFE OF CjESAE MALAK 
 
 of the religious anniversaries, and my father joined him 
 there, later on. 
 
 " On the 4th of Angust a large company of ns returned 
 to Geneva, in the steamboat which, thanks to the glorious 
 weather, was full of strangers of every kind." '\A^iile 
 Ostertag, in conversation with his friends, enjoyed the 
 liberty which succeeds all mental strain, he perceived, he 
 tells us, " that Malan had just seated himself by the side 
 of a foreign lady, and had, in the most courteous manner, 
 exchanged a few words with her. The conversation be- 
 came increasingly animated. In her features there appeared, 
 by turns, the expression of surprise or the smile of con- 
 tempt. Her face reddened and paled alternately. Evi- 
 dently she was a prey to the conflict of most opposite 
 sentiments. Frequently might she have been seen speak- 
 ing and gesticulating in great excitement ; it might have 
 been conjectured that she was seeking to defend herself 
 against unjust attacks. Then she set herself to listen 
 attentively, silently, with her eyes bent down. By degrees 
 these intervals of silence became more frequent. At 
 length she gave uj) speaking entirely. Malan, on the 
 other hand, appeared to grow increasingly serious and 
 earnest, and more and more confident of success. Tears 
 were soon seen coursing one another down her cheeks, 
 while she applied her handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 "For a long time," writes Ostertag, "I watched this 
 scene from a distance, with the liveliest interest ; for it was 
 plain that Malan was seeking to bring that soul to Christ. 
 Had I not already heard him spoken of as one, not only filled 
 with the most ardent zeal to gain hearts over to the king- 
 dom of God, but as one possessing, moreover, an extra- 
 
FERVENT IN SPIRIT. 341 
 
 ordinary aptitude for winning souls ? Many and many a 
 glorious instance could I recall, going far back, of what God 
 had thus wrouglit by his means. I had heard how, during 
 his walks, in the diligence, at hotels, and among people of 
 every class, he had been enabled at times to fix in the 
 heart, by a single \vord, an arrow incapable of being extri- 
 cated. And now, for the first time, I saw him at this 
 work. Whilst the rest of us were scattered about doing 
 nothing — looking about us, and chatting on subjects 
 more or less trifling — he was preaching the gospel with 
 indefatigable zeal and ardent love. 
 
 " About half an hour afterwards, as I was standing by a 
 young German of my acquaintance, Malan passed close to 
 me, and whispered in my ear, ' Another soul gained over 
 to the Lord.' A quarter of an hour afterwards, while I 
 was still in the same place, and just as a young theologian 
 from the north of Germany joined us, he passed me again, 
 touched me on the shoulder, and said, in a low voice, 
 'Preach the gospel — sound the trumpet.' Through the 
 whole of my journey after that — indeed, througli all my 
 after life — that sentence has resounded in my ears, and 
 never did I faithfully obey it and repent of doing so." 
 
 He then mentions how he received a proposal that was 
 made to him to become a tutor in a distinguished English 
 family. " According to my custom," he says, " I reserved 
 my decision till I had consulted my family, and got at the 
 opinion of experienced men. Moreover, as soon as I had 
 written home, I went to find INIalan. 
 
 "After quietly listening to my tidings, he asked me 
 what decision I had come to myself? 'To accept the 
 invitation/ I replied, ' if my family approve.' He shook 
 
342 LIFE OF C.FSAR MALAN. 
 
 Ms head, and Legan to set forth with vehemence and in- 
 creasing warmth the inconveniences of such a position; 
 pressing me, at the same time, with an appeal to my con- 
 science, to remember that I was called to preach the Word 
 of God — to proclaim the gospel, and not to become the 
 guardian of a young man of family. ' Go to Trance,'* 
 he exclaimed, ' to America, to Africa, anywhere you 
 please, provided you preach Jesus. Win souls to the 
 Lord, that is your work. Go, and sound the gospel 
 trumpet ! ' A little disconcerted at this dispersion of 
 my pleasant dreams, I endeavoured to show him the 
 advantag^es of the offer I had received. ' Delusion ! de- 
 lusion ! ' he replied ; mercilessly upsetting all my objec- 
 tions." 
 
 He next goes on to tell us how in the afternoon of that 
 day he felt himself demolished again, as some of the little 
 ones spoke to him on the same subject; and that too, 
 quite naturally, to the same effect as their father had done; 
 only with the decisiveness and exaggeration of their age. 
 
 A few days afterwards, on his return from an excursion 
 in the neighbourhood of Geneva, he decided on taking a 
 professorial chair in the mission house at Bale. He tells 
 us how my father, to whom he hastened immediately to 
 communicate his intelligence, tried his utmost to dissuade 
 him, while he attacked the Missionary Institute to a 
 dec^ree all but amountino: to bitterness, on account of the 
 errors which he thought he had discovered in their re- 
 ligious government.-|- " I confess that this attack pained 
 
 * He had just returned himself from his first missionary journey there. 
 + Ostertag mentions the charges of Arminianism and Socinianism. As 
 for the first, I remember myself hearing my revered father urge it against 
 
OSTERTAG MISTAKEN. 343 
 
 me, for I tliouglit it unjust. I soon recollected, however, 
 that nothing found favour in his eyes, — admirable as he 
 was in every other respect, — that appeared to be in the 
 slightest degree opposed to his favourite doctrine of pre- 
 destination. So I left the matter there ; expressing a firm 
 belief that God would guide me in days to come, as He had 
 done up to that moment." 
 
 He then goes on to relate in detail the conversation in 
 w^hicli my father sought to Avin him over to this special 
 doctrine. As we have already had occasion to notice 
 Malan's dogmatism, I shall content myself with a few 
 quotations, and one or tw^o observations of my own. 
 
 To commence with the latter. Ostertag frequently asserts 
 that this doctrine was held by every member of the family; 
 and that, " with iron obstinacy." His examples, however, 
 would but serve to prove a most natural circumstance, 
 namely, that we succumbed as children to the only dog- 
 matic influence to which we were exposed, I may venture 
 to say, in my father's public teaching. I mention his 
 public teaching intentionally, for he had too nmch tact to 
 make his theological dogma the special subject of his 
 private conversations with his children. I think I may 
 safely say that the decided inlluence he exercised over us 
 was not due to any special opinion which he tauglit, but 
 rather to his living faith and true piety. 
 
 We may now observe how Ostertag sums up his own 
 impressions on this head. " It cannot be denied that on 
 
 Bale ; especially just at that time. I imagine, however, that the second is due 
 to a misconception. According to my father, Arminianism was the error of 
 a nmltitude of true and dear Christians, while a Sociniau he holds to 
 have no rlL'-ht whatever to the title of Christian. 
 
344 LIFE OF CJSSAE MALAK 
 
 the one hand the grandeur and the imposing logic of this 
 doctrine is calculated to make a deep impression on any- 
 one, while, on the other hand, Scripture, in a certain sense, 
 supports it." 
 
 He tells us next how my father commenced a discussion 
 of the subject with him by the abrupt question, "Are you 
 one of the elect ? " — how he pressed him not to rest his 
 assurance of salvation on that sandy foundation, for ever 
 shifting and changing, which he denominated our own 
 feelings and sentiments, or, generally speaking, on anything 
 in ourselves. "No," he added, "we must found that 
 assurance on a firm indestructible rock, without us ; in a 
 w^ord, on the declaration of God. Faith is to believe 
 what God declares." 
 
 "I shall never cease to be grateful to dear Malan for 
 this conversation," he continues, recalling further, how my 
 father was for ever urging him on this subject of particular 
 election, and the death of Christ for the elect only. On 
 that point Ostertag would have had plenty to say, but 
 " whenever Malan grew animated in a discussion, he gave 
 his companion no chance of speaking. ISTo sooner did he 
 hear the commencement of an objection than he would cut 
 it short at times with some such an exclamation as I 
 heard from him at the time. ' Oh those German heads ! ' 
 or else by saying, 'I understand what you are going to 
 say.' On the occasion referred to, after unfolding his views 
 with much fervour and eloquence, he finished with the tri- 
 umphant exclamation, ' You see the dialectics of Geneva ! ' " 
 
 A few days afterwards, a fresh discussion was started by 
 my father on final perseverance. Ostertag maintained that 
 the believer might fall from grace, quoting, in support of 
 
URGING VEHEMENTLY. 345 
 
 his argument, the well-known texts of Scripture. My 
 father, after explaining the passages from his point of view, 
 added ; — suddenly exchanging scriptural exegesis for dia- 
 lectics : — " Answer this question, ' Is it we who preserve 
 our salvation, or is it our salvation that preserves us ? ' I 
 simply replied that we were certainly unable to take care 
 of it, but that we midit nevertheless lose it through our 
 own fault. Malan rose with the air of one about to deal a 
 decisive blow. ' Come into my room,' he said. There, 
 opening a large Bible, he showed me numerous passages, 
 on the authority of which he sought with amazing force to 
 prove his view, and ended by asking, ' Are you convinced 
 now? Are you willing to give God the glory?'* 'I 
 should not be telling the truth,' I replied^ ' if I said I was 
 convinced.' " " Let us pray," said my father ; and, rising 
 from his chair, he knelt down and asked God, in fervent 
 prayer, not that He would vouchsafe general enlightenment 
 to him who knelt beside him, but that he would convince 
 him on this one point. " I do not think," says Ostertag, 
 " that any prayer ever gave me so much pain. Exliausted 
 with fatigue, with tears in my eyes, tears which he inter- 
 preted very differently from the truth, I left his study and 
 sought to be alone." 
 
 * Here we see the essence of my father's thought, and the only interpre- 
 tation of a persistency which other\\'ise would have been painful to recall. 
 Moreover, had not the scene which Ostertag describes been recorded at the 
 moment, and on this ground had a claim to insertion here, and had 1 not 
 knowTi that I was writing for readers capable of appreciating the sacred 
 rights of religious opinion, so fully recognised by my father when he estab- 
 lished this special dogma on such high ground, I should not have referred 
 to the occurrence. Such readers will be well pleased, on other accounts, to 
 have had an opportunity of studying a scene, so full of interest from the 
 way in which it illustrates the characters of the two excellent men who 
 figure in it. 
 
346 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 As we read tliis, we recall wliat another very distin- 
 guislied man wrote, after a conversation with my father in 
 1841 (the Eev. F. W. Eobertson) : " I love old Malan from 
 the bottom of my soul, but I hate arguing with him, even 
 though the discussion remained that of Christian brethren."* 
 
 Shortly afterwards, Ostertag, who had retired for the 
 purpose of looking into a German work on Calvinistic 
 theology, which my excellent mother had handed him, at 
 my father's suggestion doubtless, heard his voice calling to 
 him. " He invited me into his study, against the wall of 
 which there was a chamber-oro-an. Placino; a music-book 
 on the desk, containing a beautiful hymn tune, with the 
 text in French, he asked me to play it. I complied at 
 once, while, with a superb tenor voice, in clear, full tones, 
 he sang the three verses of the hymn. Both words and 
 music were quite new to me. It was a hymn on the com- 
 munion of saints, the sweetness of brotherly love, and the 
 blessed hope that a day will come when all the children of 
 God will come into the unity of a perfect knowledge in 
 Christ, and will unite in praising the Lamb. I was de- 
 lighted, and asked him as I finished if he would let me 
 copy the words and music. ' That copy is for you,' he 
 replied, with a pleased expression in his bright face, the 
 result of a heartfelt kindness whicli has produced the de- 
 sired gratification. ' It is my good-bye to you,' he added, 
 and I saw then that the sheet had a sort of dedication to 
 me. JSTot a very important incident this, yet it gives us a 
 near view of the admirable life of love which characterised 
 that excellent man." 
 
 * " F. W. Robertson's Life and Letters." London : Smith, Elder, and Co. 
 P. Q5. 
 
 I 
 
SABBATH SUNSET. 347 
 
 After liaving narrated to us, in the style already quoted, 
 the communion on the last Sunday he spent under our 
 roof, Ostertag finishes his description of that day by re- 
 marking that '' the salutary sacredness which marked it 
 throughout was present even at the evening meal, when 
 the English minister was present, who liad assisted at the 
 celebration. During tea a box was handed round, with 
 passages of Scripture.* Each read the text he liad drawn, 
 and the head of the family took occasion to say a few 
 words of exhortation or application, as the case might be. 
 Before we separated the Englisli minister offered a prayer 
 of singular power and unction. 
 
 " It was with tears in my eyes that I took leave of that 
 excellent family, having to start the next morning at five 
 o'clock. 
 
 " As for Malan himself, he took me by the arm and led 
 me into tlie garden ; there he displayed tlie fulness of his 
 affectionate spirit. In a few clear words he brought in 
 review the days we had spent together, and added excel- 
 lent advice with reference to my contemplated journey to 
 France, with kindliest niessiiges for an entire list of friends 
 
 * The contents of the Sunday box were applied to different charitable pur- 
 poses. For a long time they were given to my mother's school. For some 
 years the collection was devoted to the redemption of young girls enslaved 
 at Cairo, a work to which one of our English friends at that tin.e — an 
 English lady — was devoting herself. One of these slaves, after having been 
 instructed in the Christian faith, received at her baptism our family name. 
 Afterwards, my father sent the proceeds to the evangelising work in Bel- 
 gium. As for the texts of Scripture, one of us usually ^\Tote them on the 
 Sunday afternoon. At the present time, some pious families having adopted 
 this custom for the Sunday evenings, such texts may be had, printed for 
 the purpose. My father in ♦ituted it with the view of fixing the conversa- 
 tion, at a table so numerously surrounded as ours, on i^ubjects in harmony 
 with the religious character which he washed to keep up to the very close 
 of the day of rest. 
 
348 LIFE OF C.^SAR 31 A LAN. 
 
 and acquaintances. It was tlien nearly midnight, and I 
 wished to say good-bye. ' 'No, no/ he replied, ' to-mor- 
 row I shall see you to the coach-office.' 
 
 " The next morning he was at my door at four o'clock. 
 ' Is your luggage ready ?' was his first question, after giv- 
 ing me a hearty good morning. He assisted a servant to 
 carry it down, and accompanied it himself to the garden 
 gate. N'ot till he had done this did he come to escort me. 
 The town was still wrapped in silence, not a sound was to 
 he heard in the streets through which we passed. On the 
 edge of the horizon, a streak of sky, faintly lit up, heralded 
 the approaching dawn. ' What will it be,' said Malan, 
 ' when the day of Christ appears, and He shall suddenly 
 return to awaken every sleeper in the twinkling of an eye V 
 
 " Conversing thus, we reached the place from which my 
 journey was to commence. Coach and horses were ready. 
 Malan embraced me, invoking upon me the blessing of 
 God. The next moment the diligence was bowling on its 
 way. 
 
 " I have never seen him since. He has g^one to his rest, 
 but his memory remains — a blessing that can never be 
 effaced — with me and many others." 
 
 May he who wrote these touching lines receive a blessing 
 himself, for the reminiscences they have called up in ^lalan's 
 family ! As I transcribe them, I seem myself to behold 
 and to listen anew to him whose pure and exalted image 
 they so vividly recall !* 
 
 * Further recollections of visits to my father from men of note may be 
 met with in " Notices of the State of Religion in Geneva and Belgium," by 
 Dr Heugh of Glasgow, 1844 ; and in the work of Dr Cheever of New York, 
 " Wanderings of a Pilgrim under the Shadow of Mont Blanc," published 
 in 1845. FuU of interest as these two volumes are — the former especially 
 
VIEJP'S OF CONTROVERSY. 349 
 
 Section 3. — Roman Controversy from 1837, and literary 
 activity to the close of his life. 
 
 It -was in tlie year 1837 that niy father appeared pub- 
 licly on the stage as the avowed opponent of the preten- 
 sions of Eomanism;^' Up to that time he had always 
 purposely avoided a controversy which, in his judgment, 
 could only lead to the stirring up of passions. Convinced, 
 as he loved to assert, " that darkness never retreats before 
 the blows of the cudgel," he was satisfied with testifying 
 — wliatever the error with which he had to contend — both 
 in the presence of Catholicism and of Protestant unbelief, 
 to that divine and living Christianity which remained with 
 him a celestial and eternal fact, and wdiich consequently 
 was anterior, and essentially superior, to what deserved 
 only the name of Catholicism or Protestantism. Thus we 
 found him, in 1820, declining to exact from sundry Catho- 
 lics a formal abjuration of their errors as soon as he dis- 
 covered them to be true Christians. These princi2:)les he 
 urged in 1823 in his "Protestant truly Catholic," while he 
 did not scruple to avow them o^^enly before his Catholic 
 hearers in Perpignan in 1826. 
 
 I discover them, moreover, in the letters in wliicli lie 
 exhorts priests who applied to him, with the view of em- 
 bracing Protestantism, " to become not the mere proselytes 
 
 being rich in detailed information with regard to the religious world of that 
 time — they do but add to what has just been quoted, the testimony of the 
 personal feelings of their authors, who were both of them among the num- 
 ber of my father's friends. 
 
 * He refused, in common with English evangelicals, tlie title of " Catho- 
 lic" to the Roman Church. " Nothing is less catholic or universal than the 
 Latin Sect — the schism which Rome has made with the orthodox Church 
 throughout the world." — The Future of liomanism in Ocncva, p. 4. 
 
350 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 of a man or a party, but the disciples of the Saviour Him- 
 self" 
 
 Xor did he meditate enterimr the arena of direct con- 
 troversy till he found himself ]Dersonally challenged. And 
 even then his controversy consisted supremely in the ap- 
 plication to such special points at issue as presented them- 
 selves in those grand principles of his faith in the sove- 
 reignty of God. 
 
 At first the representatives of Catholicism had taken, 
 with reference to the revival, a position tending directly to 
 compromise its partisans in the eyes of the old official 
 Protestantism of Geneva. Publications such as the " True 
 History of the Momiers/' or articles of the same kind in 
 the ultramontane journals of the period ; — while they held 
 up the evangelicals as the sole representatives of the tra- 
 ditional orthodoxy of Christianity, and the victims at the 
 same time of most unrighteous measures on the part of the 
 national Protestant clergy ; — could not but result in making 
 the old Genevese hate a party which they thus beheld 
 defended by the most inexorable foes of their liberties. 
 
 On the other hand, those whose defence was thus 
 espoused by the Catholics were the first to discover the 
 gulf which separated evangelical liberty from that prin- 
 ciple of autliority which their new allies upheld. They 
 had no sympathy with men whose zeal, in their judgment, 
 was the mere issue of calculation and a party manoeuvre. 
 These sentiments were all the more avowed and natural as 
 just as that period, (immediately before 1835), Catho- 
 licism had assumed in Geneva, under the energetic direc- 
 tion of the Cure Vuarin, a position as hostile as possible 
 to everything held dear, as much by the friends of liberty in 
 
EVANGELICAL PRIESTS. 351 
 
 Geneva as by those of the pure gospel. As for my father 
 — to confine our attention to him — he did not scruple, 
 out of that very frankness with which he professed his 
 faith, to encounter the priests with an opposition which, as 
 may be remembered, all but endangered his personal liberty. 
 Of course, side by side with the fanatic ultramon- 
 tanes, there was, especially at that time, a large num- 
 ber of liberal Catholics, and even of priests, who, up 
 to a certain point, showed themselves friendly to evan- 
 gelical doctrine. It is notorious with what intensity 
 this movement of faith and liberty displayed itself de- 
 finitely in the Catholic Church of South Germany. ]\Iy 
 father soon found himself in communication with kindred 
 spirits even beyond the German frontiers. He refers 
 often, in his missionary narratives, to his interviews with 
 priests, in whom the spirit of evangelical Christianity 
 revealed itself, through, and in spite of, the ecclesiastical 
 traditions of the Latins.''' 
 
 * Many of these facts will be found related in the extracts I have already 
 given from his missionary journal of 1836, at Perpignan, as well as in the 
 missionary narratives he printed. He relates some also in his, " Shall I 
 be Able to Enter ? " in his Vendelin, p. 114; in his publication, entitled, 
 " Is the Iveligion of my Fathers the Religion of the Fathers'?" I ai)pend 
 the following extract from a letter addressed to him in 1S37 by a Freuch 
 priest, as giving a very fair idea of the position assumed by the priests above 
 referred to, towards the evangelical revival : " I have read Avith great 
 interest your ' Evangelical Sowings,' and your sermons preached in the 
 Chapel of Witness. I rejoice to hear you speak of our Lord Jesus Christ 
 so differently from many Protestants, whose works have come within my 
 reach. They are tliorough Socinians. To them the Saviour is no more 
 than a man, though they do not openly avow this. Moreover, the impiety 
 which, since the time of Louis XV., has waged so bitter a war against 
 Christianity, has never had to encounter their opposition. May you reach 
 the goal to which Providence is conducting the Mt.-thodists, though they 
 may not perceive it ! May you couipleta "our work of restoration, and 
 bring into the bosom of the Catholic Church the Christiana who are follow- 
 ing you ! " 
 
352 LIFE OF CJESAE MALAN. 
 
 He no sooner found himself, however, face to face 
 with men of this stamp, than they had either to throw 
 up whatever he demonstrated to be a contradiction 
 of the faith which they professed with him, or else to 
 submit to his open charge of inconsistency. More than 
 once he had the satisfaction of seeing some one of them 
 adopt the former course; but, when this was not so, he 
 was prepared to put himself in their place, and estimate 
 the full force of the considerations which held them back.* 
 At all events, he never advocated what is generally termed 
 a change of religion. With him the important point was 
 to impress upon all he met, whoever they might be, what 
 he had experienced in his own soul as the glorious salva- 
 tion of the sovereign grace of God. 
 
 He was convinced that when once that light penetrated 
 within, it dispelled the clouds of a credulous and slavish 
 superstition, as well as the deadly chill of a reasoning and 
 negative unbelief. 
 
 " I am far from condemning either books or conversa- 
 tions appertaining to what is properly called controversy." 
 Thus he writes liimself, in 1850, to a friend who was at the 
 head of a missionary work among the Catholics. " But I 
 consider them as being very secondary, and as being 
 designed not for conversion, but for instruction. I believe 
 that, as regard souls wdio are still ignorant of the truth of 
 salvation, whether Eomanists or so-called Protestants, we 
 shall be more useful to them, the more simply we show 
 them the fulness of the sacrifice of the Son of God. Con- 
 
 * An unbelieving young Romanist once said to him, " Must I change my 
 religion, then? " " Sir," he replied, " it is necessary, first of all, that you 
 should have one to change." — Quatre-vingt Jours, &c., p. 312. 
 
DIVINE RIGHTS OF PROTESTANTISM 353 
 
 troversy may come after that, just as you would pre^^are 
 a tree after felliuG^ it ; but, in order to have it laid low, we 
 must first seize the axe of grace. Its edge is powerful." 
 It may Le said of him that he did not so much ask his 
 partners in discussion wlience they came, as whither they 
 were going. 
 
 Meanwhile, if my father supposed tliat he could tlius 
 demonstrate the weakness of Eoman Catholicism by resting 
 on a simple faith in salvation by grace, there were Catholic 
 priests who saw, in the doctrine of the divinity of Christ, 
 of which he was rightly styled the champion in Geneva, a 
 truth which ought, unquestionably, to have won him over 
 to the Eoman Church. Towards the close of 1837 an 
 Abbe de Baudry, formerly a professor of theology in the 
 seminaries of Lyons and Paris, published a work, in which 
 he declared that the essential principles of Protestantism 
 were subversive of all real authority.* Thence he appealed 
 for confirmation of his doctrine to the histo]// of the intro- 
 duction of the Pteformation into Geneva rtSfA. . A few 
 days after the apj^earance of this pamphlet, my father 
 published a brief re]3ly, entitled, " The Divine Eights of 
 Protestantism." 
 
 After distinguishing between evangelical Protestantism, 
 and the Arianism or Socinianism, which liad usurped its 
 name in Geneva, he passes rapidly in review the history 
 of that protest wdnch is, from the nature of the case, the 
 essential character of the position of the Cliurch of (Jod 
 outside, and opposed to the world ; shows what anti(|uity 
 
 * " A Defence of the Sacred Eights of the Episcopate, and of the Holy 
 See," &c. This brochure was not specially levelled airainst Protestantism, 
 which it only referred to casually. It had been called forth by a discussion 
 among the priests themselves, and concerned the Church of Ivome alone. 
 
354 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 is, the promise of God, — what is "apostolicity," the doctrine 
 of a free salvation. Snch is that eternal Protestantism, 
 which is the religion of the Bible, and the faith of the 
 children of God. 
 
 Public opinion, among the Protestants of Geneva, re- 
 ceived with acclaim so firm and courteous a vindication of 
 the right divine of its traditional beliefs. As for jNI. de 
 Baudry, he had recourse to party personalities. In a few 
 pages, in which he adopted an unctuous tone of excessive 
 mildness, he took care to insinuate that my father's 
 opposition to his views was, at bottom, merely an expres- 
 sion of his ill-will against his old enemies, the clergy of 
 Geneva. Such a course, however, as my father took care to 
 show in his reply, could only bring him nearer to that 
 Church " which Eome has had reason to fear, and which 
 she may fear yet more hereafter." '^ " Xo, sir," he writes, I 
 do not think that the holy Church of God consists only of 
 those whom you style Methodists, since I believe that 
 every soul that worships the Lord Jesus, in sincerity, is a 
 member of that Church which the Saviour has purchased. 
 I consider the Church of God in Geneva as composed of 
 all those who, whether dissenters, semi-dissenters, or 
 state-church men, believe in the eternal Godhead of the 
 Son, and in free salvation." Then, having replied, by an 
 appeal to facts themselves, to the insinuations and accusa- 
 tions of his adversary, "Greater things," he says, in 
 conclusion, ''require our meditations and our watching. 
 The invisible world is too near for us to employ our time 
 in quarrels and disputes. Our contemporaries, moreover, 
 
 * " Eeclamations Necessaires, presented to the Abbe de Baudry, in 
 reply to his former observations." 
 
CONTROVERSY JFITII DE BAUDRY. 355 
 
 are far from re(|uiring ns to form parties among tliem. 
 The world, alas, is too divided already ; so I withdraw from 
 the discussion altooether." 
 
 But in this he was mistaken. The ahbc, seizing upon 
 my father's declaration with reference to the divinity of 
 Jesus Christ, published a few days afterwards a small 
 pamphlet, entitled " Dr Malan, Protestant minister of 
 Geneva, led by the force of his own opinion to embrace 
 the Catholic religion." 
 
 Of course my father was bound to explain, and he was 
 not backward in doinc^ so. Setting to work with that 
 ardour and assiduity of which he liad already given such 
 ample proofs, he issued, in less than a month after the 
 publication of the last pamphlet, a volume of two hundred 
 and fifty pages, entitled, " Can I Enter the Eomish Church 
 so long as I Believe the Whole of the Bible ? " a question 
 submitted to the conscience of every Christian reader, with 
 a motto taken from the 11 9th Psalm, "Thou art my portion, 
 Lord, I have said that I would keep Thy words." * Tliis 
 work, which has been often reprinted, deserves a passing 
 notice here.-f What strikes us, at first glance, is the basis 
 of its arguments, which is purely and simply the Bible itself, 
 as presented to the conscience of every Christian reader. 
 So tliat it is not so much a volume of Protestant, as a 
 treatise of Christian, controversy. The faitli of tlie Chris- 
 tian, in its expression most simple and most general, 
 
 * He advertised it in the papers immediately after de Bandry's announce- 
 ment of his book, with these words : — " In the press, and to be puljHshed a 
 fortnight hence." 
 
 f M. de Baudry merely replied in a tract of a few pages, called " Final 
 Observations," in which, "in presence of the evidently prt-jiuliced mind of 
 Lis opponent, he declares his wish to be silent from that time." 
 
356 LIFE OF CJESAPo MALAN. 
 
 forms the ground-work of the entire argument. As for 
 Protestantism, in the special sense of the word, there is no 
 reference to it ; except in so far as the individual conscience 
 of the believer in the grace of the gospel, finds in it the 
 expression of his faith. This faith itself is defined there 
 as that of a man who, because he believes in Jesus Christ, 
 and worships Him, knows that he is justified by faith, has 
 peace with God, possesses iioio life everlasting, and is sealed 
 by the Spirit till the day of redemption.^ It is that faith 
 which rests alone on the declarations of the gospel, and 
 which, speaking for himself, he says, " has been for more 
 than twenty years his precious unfailing portion." And 
 now he finds himself driven to the inquiry, whether really, 
 as the question is submitted to him, that faith has been a 
 delusion ; whether he has misunderstood the Bible after 
 all; whether the Eoman creed is actually more in har- 
 mony with the infallible utterances of Holy Writ. 
 
 With this end he examines the Eomish faith under 
 three general heads, — revelation, government, and pos- 
 session of salvation; in other words, he examines it in 
 respect of what it affirms of Holy Scripture, of the 
 Church on earth, and of the peace of God and holiness 
 of heart. 
 
 On each of these three points, after submitting to the 
 reader, first, the Eoman dogma, next, the difference of 
 opinion which the Church presents in its fathers, councils, 
 and popes, he asks whether his own faith, as being based 
 upon the Bible, should not remain the subject of his 
 preference. 
 
 Thus he passes in review, first, the authority of Scripture 
 
 * " Can I Enter ? " &c., p. 11. 
 
CONTEXTS OF HIS BEPLY. 357 
 
 (the Apocrypha, Tradition, the Vulgate, and the Bible in the 
 Vulgar tongue) ; secondly, the question of unity, antiquity, 
 permanence, catholicity, the hierarchy, and the services of 
 the Church ; thirdly, possession of a free salvation, assur- 
 ance, final perseverance, penance, and purgatory, — all 
 which is submitted to the reader in a glowing, animated 
 style, and with great diversity of handling. After treating 
 the first and second points as a simple exposition of doctrine, 
 he adopts, on arriving at the heading of worship, a narra- 
 tive and occasionally dramatic style. He relates his per- 
 sonal recollections of his conversations or journeys. Thus 
 " the pilgrimage " is merely a description of a visit he had 
 made in his youth to Einsiedeln ; while the deeply interest- 
 ing episode of the old cure in the chapter on purgatory, is 
 a description of what happened under his personal observa- 
 tion. 
 
 Owing to the diversity of its style, the more we read of 
 the book, the more pleasure we experience. Founded on 
 a believer's faith in the Word of God, written with a grace- 
 ful simplicity, and interspersed with interestiiig stories; 
 hastily compiled as it was, it reveals none the less, in its 
 numerous pages, evidence of conscientious research and 
 extensive scholarship. Moreover, it was widely circulated, 
 and frequently quoted, and remained not only a monument 
 of my father's industry, but also, in one particular respect, 
 a lucid and complete manual which it was very easy to 
 consult. After several reprints of it had been issued, my 
 father, in a preface to the fourth edition (Brussels, 1854), 
 stated, that He AVho makes use of tlie smallest instrumen- 
 talities to accomplish the designs of His gi'ace, had blessed 
 the scriptural truth whicli tlie work contained. 
 
358 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 Xot content with reprinting some extracts from tlie work 
 in 1840 and in 1843, lie frequently took up his pen as new 
 controversies arose. For example, in March 1839 he was 
 the first to accept the challenge which a certain Abbe 
 Espanet had flung out to the Protestant clergy. The Abbe 
 was a Lent preacher in Geneva, whose violent language 
 especially excited the reformed population, inasmuch as 
 it was uttered at the time when Father Eavignan and the 
 Abbe Combalot were holding out Protestant virtues as a 
 pattern to Parisian Catholics.* In 1843, he wrote an 
 answer to a Catholic of Versoix. In 1845, he replied to 
 the attack of the Abbe Angelin, in his publication, " Sec- 
 tarians and the Primitive Faith." In 1846, he was induced 
 to publish " A Friendly Peply from an Old Soldier of the 
 Gospel," to a paper signed " A Veteran and Good Catholic." 
 In 1851, he addressed his " Eeclamations Publiques " to the 
 Abbe Mermilliod ; and replied, in 1852, to the "Catholic 
 Annals of Geneva." Lastly, in 1853, he published a fresh 
 edition of his tract, " AVhat Men Call our Prejudices against 
 Popery, is our Heart Belief in the Bible." 
 
 It was only most unwillingly, however, that he partici- 
 pated in this paper war, which, as he himself said, too easily 
 diverted the soul from better and eternal things. At the 
 same time, he no less felt " that, if patience and courtesy 
 required him to allow free speech to his adversaries, so long 
 as they confined themselves to personalities, he could not 
 concede the licence when their attacks were directed against 
 the truth of God." f 
 
 * " The Priest and the Minister ; or, The Eeformation as it is : Letter 
 from the Rev. Dr Malan to Two Priests." 
 f " Our Doctrinal Anarchy," p. 4. 
 
STATEMENT OF HIS OBJECT. 359 
 
 His constant aiin, too, was to handle every question in the 
 light of faith in the authority of the Gospel. This was the 
 ground he had already assumed in his work, " Can I Enter?" 
 and again, in his "Questions of a Genevese," in 1844, as 
 well as in his "Manual of a True Protestant," 1845. 
 
 The three " Questions of a Genevese, on the Particular 
 Doctrines of the Church of Rome," consist of a re-issue 
 (Avith a few notes and explanations) of his edition of three 
 English works of reformed controversy, compiled in the 
 seventeenth century. They treat of Protestant rejection of 
 the mass, of Mariolatry (translated from AVillet, Synopsis 
 Papismi, IGOO), and of the reading of the Bible in the 
 vulgar tongue. 
 
 " His object," he says, " is to provoke a sincere dis- 
 cussion, much needed in Geneva." " Its people love the 
 truth," while he seemed to " detect an awakening of atten- 
 tion to these subjects in the liomish parishes of the 
 cantons of Geneva." The following is his explanation of 
 the little success the preaching of the gospel meets with 
 among certain liomanists : — " A species of idealism, a 
 religion of imagination and poetry, or of brilliant, but too 
 indefinite and too confused, conception, engages and arouses 
 
 the feelings A sensuous devotion may captivate 
 
 souls that hanker after mere emotions. Tt offers tliem 
 ready food, and a religion, so to speak, ready mad(?, accom- 
 modating itself easily to the exigencies of a contemplative 
 mind, and of an ardent and impassioned heart."* 
 
 Ear from Avishing to copy the Church of Ptome by 
 saying that, out of Protestantism, there is no salvation, he 
 declares " that everywhere, where Christ is proclaimed, 
 
 * " First Question;' p. 113. 
 
360 LIFE OF CyFSAE MALAN. 
 
 salvation is to be had ;" and tliat, " if the Eomanist looks 
 with faith to the one sacrifice of the Saviour, by that he 
 abjures papacy, and experiences the benefit of the promise 
 made of God to faith." * 
 
 At the close of the third question; "reminding his 
 readers that the writings of actual controversialists, such 
 as Wiseman and Moehler, are but the repetitions of 
 errors encountered in those very writings of old time to 
 which he is now referring, he addresses his Protestant 
 felloAV-citizens especially, with the view of submitting to 
 their attention, in a few glowing words, the true meaning 
 of their old Eeformation symbol, ' Post tenebras lux.'" 
 
 As for the "Manual of a True Protestant," it is a 
 little catechism of popular controversy, based on the 
 authority of Scripture texts, and designed especially for 
 evangelists and colporteurs. It was translated into Eng- 
 lish, soon reached a second edition in French, and is in 
 use still. 
 
 Engaged in controversy, my father displayed, not merely 
 the believer in the gospel, but the true Protestant and 
 Genevese patriot. No one loved his country more than he 
 did ; no one realised more than he, the tie that bound 
 every true Genevese Protestant to the ancient confessors 
 and defenders of the faith.-f- 
 
 * " First Question," p. 118. 
 
 f " I love my country. I have ever honoured and loved its paternal 
 government. I seek its peace : of this, I and mine have given proofs." 
 (Reclamations cle VAuteur de la Fete-Dieii, a MM. les Rcdacteurs du 
 Federal, published by my father, in connection with an article in that 
 journal, June 13, 1843.) In speaking thus, he alluded doubtless to the 
 way in which, at the commencement of the year, at the time of the riots in 
 February, he had sent one of his sons, whom youth might well have absolved 
 rom such service, to the succour of the government. 
 
WITNESSES A GOOD CONFESSION. 361 
 
 " Already, and more tlian once," he says in the passage, 
 a portion of which is quoted in the note, " I have had to 
 oppose myself, in our dear Geneva, to the scorn, the 
 attacks, the encroachments of IJomanism. I am confident 
 that I liave done tliis witli as much moderation as truth 
 requires, as well as with the energy which it demands. I 
 have respected persons, while I denounced error or heresy. 
 I am a Genevese, and, as such, I think that same Bible, 
 which has made and ennobled my native city, ought to 
 rule among us, above every superstition and doctrine of 
 men. Geneva must perish if she rejects the Bible. I am 
 a Protestant, and, as such, I tliink that riomanism, even in 
 its most modified form, is as far removed from evangelical 
 faith as the merits of man from the grace of God. I am, 
 above all, a Christian, and, as such, I tliink that the 
 eternal salvation of my fellow-countrymen is not to be 
 found in Popery, because it is only in Jesus Christ, God 
 blessed for ever : — Who has perfected a salvation for His 
 Church, through faith in His blood, without the aid of 
 human merit. For tliis reason, as a Genevese who fears 
 God, I am bound, with all my might, to upliold, in our 
 native land, the authority of the Bible, the purity of our 
 holy faith, and the dignity of the true cross of Christ. 
 ]\lany will blame me, some will be offended, others will 
 despise me ; but who ever defended truth, whether in reli- 
 gion, politics, or science, without encountering o})]iosition ? 
 And what is there to be wondered at, it lie, mIio main- 
 tains tlie cause of the gospel, is set at nought by the 
 world ?" 
 
 Nowhere do these sentiments of a Christian patriot shine 
 out more brightly than in two publications issued by him 
 
362 LIFE OF CAESAR MALAN. 
 
 in 1842, " Eome and Geneva, or. The Impossible;" and " Tlie 
 Ritiire of Eomanism in Geneva." The last (a pamphlet of 
 fifty pages) deserves particnlar notice. After having 
 recalled in it the vital principle of the Eeformation itself ; 
 after having shown the real action of this principle in cer- 
 tain of the conversions to Protestantism of which it was 
 the instrument; he argues thence that Eomanism, which is 
 Trinitarian in its character, w^ill never recede except as the 
 Bible advances, nor yield its ground except to this principle 
 of grace, " Man cannot earn salvation." Tlien addressing 
 himself directly to the Protestant families of the Eepublic 
 of Geneva, " as one shuddering at the bare idea of a Catholic 
 Geneva," he exhibits Eome " as a famished vulture, hasten- 
 ing to trample the reformed city under its talons ; " and 
 exhorts them "to repel that indifference and infidelity 
 which alone could hand them over to its powers." "As in 
 1835, faith in Jesus and in salvation by grace liberated 
 Geneva from the snares and fetters of Eome," he cries, 
 "let Geneva, once more reGfenerated and blessed from on 
 high, say with confidence to her Eoman parishes, ' I am 
 Christian : will you join me ? ' " 
 
 It is evident from wdiat point of view my father regarded 
 the question. Eepresenting the ancient Genevese of the six- 
 teenth century — or, to speak more exactly, the last repre- 
 sentative in modern Geneva of those French emigrants who 
 had succeeded, after many attempts, in rekindling and main- 
 taining in that city the life and decision of a new faith — he 
 had already ceased to belong to that generation wdiose 
 frivolous shallowness had been so incessantly appealed to 
 by his earnest convictions. Hence it w^as that, during the 
 wdiole of his life, he felt that he was regarded as an alien in 
 
ALONE IN A CROJFD. 363 
 
 that Geneva, concerning wliicli it may be said that those 
 who pray for her fear even now that, except in the event of 
 some special divine interposition, she will relapse once 
 more into that easy hnt deadly superstition from wliich, 
 three hundred years ago, the Word of God, as imported Ly 
 a few French emigrants, availed to rescue her. 
 
 And this was one of the reasons why his faith and 
 efforts failed to he appreciated by the majority of his 
 fellow-countrymen. Endued with a warm heart — his creed, 
 an intense reality ; his conscience, an irresistible power — 
 he was at the same time a man of the past, a witness of 
 bygone days. Hence he lived a baffled and despised life, in 
 the presence of that superficialness and hollow dilettanteism 
 wliich seems to characterise increasingly every day the 
 times in which we live, more especially in a town which 
 may be scarcely said to exist as it was, save in the old 
 memories of some of its sons. Thus his testimony from 
 the very first met with more acceptance with Itomanists, 
 among whom, thanks to the discipline of their Church, the 
 shallowness to which we have referred liad made less way, 
 or among the Protestant population of the Vaud and of 
 Neufchatel, who had remained in a measure unaffected by 
 the influences to which Geneva had so long succumbed. 
 
 The fact is, that in Geneva itself his Church comprised 
 very few Genevese; while, from the outset, his ministry 
 found special acceptance with foreigners and Iiomanists. 
 His earliest tracts have already demonstrated this.'"*" I'roud 
 of the past history of their city, confident in the renown 
 brought them by tlie memory of their antecedents, the 
 
 * The greater part of bis fii"st tracts arc narratives of conversations ^\•ith 
 E-omanists. 
 
364 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAK 
 
 Genevese of that day ceased to experience that hunger and 
 tliirst which alone prepare for the snccessful preaching of 
 the gospel of the grace of God. Since that time, un- 
 doubtedly, weary years of suffering and spoliation seem 
 to have succeeded in awakening once more in that same 
 population feelings with which they had so long dis- 
 pensed. 
 
 At all events it must be allowed that, after 1830, my 
 father was called upon to address himself especially to 
 Eomanists. His mission, out of Geneva, was directed 
 chiefly towards France and Belgium, and in Geneva 
 itself the most acceptable among the literary ^productions 
 of his latter years, are almost all composed with reference 
 to Eomanists. This may be said especially of " The True 
 Cross," in 1837,* of "Vendelin," in 1844, and of his 
 numerous tracts which he collected together in 1853, in 
 the sixth volume of his "Grains de Seneve," as well as 
 of others of the same kind.-f* Such were his labours 
 
 * Ten or twelve years ago, one who devoted himself at Turin to the 
 evangelisation of Italy, assured me, that of all the means which he and his 
 friends had employed in their work, they knew of none which had been 
 attended with such striking results as the dissemination of the two tracts, 
 "The True Cross," and " La Valaisanne." "We cannot print enough of 
 them," he said. 
 
 f We append the titles of such of his writings as have not been noticed 
 hitherto. In 1844, "I have left Rome and her Altars : an Account of a 
 Conversion ; " in 1845, "A Eomish Priest become a Disciple of the Bible ; 
 or, A Few Facts and Conversations, relative to the Abjuration of Romanism, 
 made on the 5th Jamiary, 1845, in the Church of Testimony, at Geneva ; " 
 in 1846, three brochures, entitled, " The Watchman and the Sentry, a Dia- 
 logue between a Native Protestant and a Foreign Romanist"; in 1847, 
 " A Morning at Lauterbrunnen," " L'Essentiel, Messieurs, I'Essentiel!" 
 and " Is the Religion of my Fathers that of the Fathers ? a Letter to the 
 Abbe Beaujard ; " in 1852, "One Little Word;" in 1S53, several minor 
 tracts, "Catholics, you are not Invited to Change your Religion, but to 
 become Christians, an Authentic Anecdote ;" "The Two Pieces of Wood, 
 
THE TRUE PATRIOT. 365 
 
 among Eoman Catholics. He appears not so miicli in the 
 light of a controversialist, as of a missionary of the grace 
 of God. 
 
 It still remains for us, however, before ve close our 
 history of his literary labours from the year 1830, to 
 mention rapidly such efforts as have not yet been 
 noticed. 
 
 It was not merely by the zeal with which he protested in 
 Geneva against everything which tended to obscure those 
 truths which lie at the foundation of historical Protestant- 
 ism, that he was for ever displaying the feelings of an earnest 
 and devoted heart. With him these emotions were not only 
 the expression of that patriotic pride which so often displays 
 itself with all the greater self-complacency, from the very 
 fact that those who abandon themselves to it would blush 
 to display such vanity under any other furm. He was 
 truly and deeply attached, not merely to that which con- 
 stituted, in his judgment, the greatness and glory of his 
 nation, but to the nation itself ; that is, to the welfare and 
 safety of his fellow-citizens. His patriotism was but one 
 of the expressions of that deep devoted love with wliich 
 
 or, Faith and Superstition, an Historical Tale ; " " Do the Words, * Ave 
 Maria, Gratia Plena,' comprise, 1. The Immaculate Conception, 2. The 
 Title of the Mother of God, 3, The Assumi>tion, 4. The Royalty, and 5. 
 The Worship of the Blessed Mother of the Saviour ? — a Dialogue between 
 Two Sincere Men, the one a Komanist, tlie other a Protestant ; " " Our 
 Lady of Geneva — Is Hers to be the Temjjle of Jerusalem, or of Gerizim ? " 
 "The 'Galimatias' of Geneva and the False Prophet, a Kei)ly to Attacks 
 in which these Terms had been Employed to Designate His Teaching and 
 Himself ; " " The Mass does not Kecogiiise Jesus Christ as God, as Priest 
 and Everlasting King ; " " Who Goes and Who Stays? " Many of these 
 were written before 1853, but I do not find them anywhere except in the 
 volume of " Grains de Scnevd," which appeared in that year. Lastly, in 
 1856, " The Three Visits," &c. &c. 
 
366 LIFE OF C.FSAR MALAK 
 
 lie felt himself continually inspired towards Ms fellow- 
 creatures. Nor do we see liim waiting, so to speak, for 
 such critical occasions as serve to bring into prominence 
 any one skilled enough to make himself the organ of the 
 sentiments of such as agree with him. His aim in address- 
 incr himself to those amons^ whom he lived was, above all 
 things, to avoid attaching to himself any new influence or 
 authority, but to minister to them, supremely to their 
 souls. Thus the most fugitive opportunities were seized 
 by him for uttering words of Christian sympathy and 
 appeal. 
 
 Let me adduce an instance of what I have just stated, 
 from my own observation. In September 1838, on the 
 afternoon of the Fast Day, which was on a Sunday, a small 
 boat, with eight persons on board, foundered in the lake, 
 under an unexpected squall. The passengers consisted of 
 a merry party of friends — young men and young women, 
 belonging to families of the middle class. ]\Iy father 
 hastened to one of their houses, the head of which was a 
 member of his flock. He shortly publislied a tract headed, 
 " Genevese, be Warned !" in which, addressing himself to 
 his " dear fellow-countrymen," he spoke to them sympa-* 
 thisingly as a Christian, and a minister of the gospel. It 
 is well known how speedily an effect is produced among a 
 people so intelligent and susceptible as the Genevese. On 
 this occasion, the impression was profound. According 
 to his usual custom, he followed to the cemetery the body 
 of the young man whose parents he knew. After he 
 had offered up a prayer, and addressed a few words to the 
 weeping family, he was implored by the father of another 
 of the victims, who was standing by his son's grave, un- 
 
COMFOLTS THE MOUBNEES. 367 
 
 ministered to by any pastor, to come to liim there.* I was 
 present at the time, and I well remember the simple and 
 touching scene when, after a brief, pathetic address, and a 
 prayer into which my father flung his whole heart's utter- 
 ance, we passed through the serried ranks of the crowd, — 
 more than one voice being heard to thank him, and many 
 hands stretched out to grasp his in silence. "|* 
 
 Yet it was not merely the deep feeling of a kindly 
 spirit; it was the earnestness of his faith as well, that 
 led him to issue those occasional publications. To the 
 very end of his life, he never ceased to regard himself as 
 the witness for the truth in Geneva; and, as such, he 
 deemed it his duty to declare openly, as often as occasion 
 offered, what he regarded as truth. Thus we find him 
 in 184G taking up his pen to refute some recently pub- 
 lished assertions on the subject of the resignation of the 
 Vaudois pastors. 
 
 In the following year, he wrote on the occasion of the 
 election of a new consistory summoned by the Xational 
 Church ; after having assumed, at the commencement of 
 the year, with reference to the question of a separation 
 between Church and State, a position (as we shall soon 
 see) at variance witli that of liis dissenting brethren.^ 
 Finally, in 1850, he was the first of those connected with 
 
 * It is the custom in Geneva for the ministers of the Xational Church to 
 conduct the funeral service at the house of the departed, and not to attend 
 the procession to the f,Tave. 
 
 f Many years afterwards, on the occasion of the sudden death of a young 
 man in our neighbourhood, my father i)ublished a few hues headed, " Dear 
 fellow-parishioners, let us watch, for we know not at what hour our Lord 
 may come for us." 
 
 X " What kind of a consistory will be chosen ? will it be thorousjfhly I'rotes- 
 tant, or will it not be selected from the Arian, if not the Unitarian, party ? " 
 
368 LIFE OF CJSSAE MALAN. 
 
 tlie religions awakening who protested, at tlie same time 
 with his okl opponent, Professor Cheneviere, against Pro- 
 fessor Scherer's views on the inspiration of Scripture * 
 
 In 1836 there appeared a little book called " N"ew 
 Stories and iSTew Hymns." As for the pamphlet " On 
 Pieligions Scepticism," which he published anonymously 
 that same year, it merely established one point, which is, 
 that its author had never experienced that fatal paralysis 
 of faith. He looks upon doubts as mere obscurities of the 
 intellect ; his heart never wavered in its trust. 
 
 The most important of his publications yet to be noticed 
 are his hymns for schools, which are not only circulated, 
 at the present day, among all French-speaking Protestants, 
 but the melodies attached to them have found their way 
 abroad, and even penetrated into Piomish schools. 
 
 The first edition appeared in 1837, under the title, 
 " Sixty Hymns and Spiritual Songs." " Yours is an 
 amiable and happy age," he says in the preface addressed 
 to the young, "and a gracious God Who has given you 
 your voices as He has given its song to the bird, bids you 
 use them in His praise. And so I have taken care to pro- 
 vide you with no frivolous numbers. I dedicate this book 
 to you with the sincerest and most tender affection, and to 
 Jesus, Who calls Himself the Good Shepherd, I commend 
 you as the lambs of the flock He feeds." 
 
 * " The authority of the Bible is revealed only by the Holy Spirit ;" and, 
 shortly afterwards, " The whole Bible is the very Word of God." It is 
 of the former of these that De Goltz says (Genfeve Eelig., p. 567), " Malan 
 goes to the very bottom of the question with tact and fairness. Indeed, 
 although he does not expressly state it in so many words, the distinction 
 between divine authority and inspiration lies at the bottom of his whole 
 argument." 
 
J>^ 
 
 ORIGIN OF " THE SIXTY HYMNS." 3G9 
 
 -^ It would be superfluous to praise tliem in this place, as 
 ley are more generally known than even the Songs of 
 ion. The hymns in the first part are more especially 
 itended for worship. The second contains sacred poems 
 f various kinds, such as " Dawn," " Evening," " Spring," 
 The Primrose," "The Swallow," "The Lark," "The 
 vValk," " Autumn," " Winter," and many others that, with 
 heir bright and pleasant melodies, will not soon be for- 
 gotten by those who have heard them sung. After having 
 enlarged this small collection in successive editions, he 
 issued the last (and fourth) in 1853. It contains one 
 hundred and twenty-seven poems. The writing of these 
 " Sixty Songs " was one of those incidents which gave 
 evidence of the working power of which he was cap- 
 able. My mother had asked him for some hymns for her 
 school. There were, up to that time, only a few already 
 written by liim at various times, and which existed merely 
 in manuscript copies. My father, without making any pro- 
 mise, set to work, and, as was his custom whenever he was 
 absorbed in some engrossing undertaking, barred his study- 
 door against all comers. After an entire seclusion, inter- 
 rupted only by family worship, and his ministerial duties, 
 he came down into the dining-room, where he had not 
 shown himself the whole time, and, laying on the table the 
 MS. of sixty hymns and sacred songs, with airs for each, 
 said to my mother, " Here, dear Jenny, is what our gracious 
 God has enabled me to do during these six weeks." 
 
 Unfortunately, some of the best of them were soon got 
 hold of for other compilations, and tlieir language so 
 altered, that those who knew them, in tlieir origimxl form, 
 would scarcely have recognised them. Some of them are 
 
370 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAK 
 
 to be met with, even now, in numerous school-books, more 
 or less transformed, and very frequently attributed to 
 other authors.* 
 
 He continued to publish almost every year one or more 
 new w^orks. I have quoted several which have a special 
 character; their titles will be found in the lists of his 
 writings. I confine myself here to mentioning the follow- 
 ing :— 
 
 In 1845, he issued two descriptions of pious deathbeds : 
 " The Christian does not Die," and " Tears and Consola- 
 tions." The last describes the death of the little daughter 
 of one of my sisters, and the two indicate the train of 
 feeling into which the illness of one of my brothers had 
 led him. 
 
 " The Four Voices of God," (Creation, Conscience, Law, 
 and the Gospel), published in 1847, disj^lays in its opening 
 pages a singxilar solemnity of style and sentiment. That 
 benevolent sympathy for children and for sufferers, so 
 distinguishable in his earliest writings, appears, from time 
 to time, with the special charm with which a kindly dis- 
 position invests the old, in the tract, " He hath Done all 
 Things Well !" (in 1847), and especially in another, " God 
 has Saved us Once for All — it is Enough," (1856). 
 
 "Julia's Progress," "Mark and Janot," (1847), " Lis- 
 beth and Jean -Marie -Joseph, "(1848), "How Glorious is 
 the Gospel," and " Camille showed his Faith by his 
 Works," (in 1856), are, like the majority of his publica- 
 
 * On the first page of the fourth edition, we read, " The author requests 
 his brethren to consider the injury they would do him by transferring these 
 hymns to their own compilations. He therefore begs that they will not do 
 60 any more." 
 
LATEST LITERARY EFFORTS. 371 
 
 tions, descriptions of facts which he had himself witnessed. 
 The charminsf dialoo'ue, "Mark and Janot," was written 
 " after nature," and sent by my father to two misdoers, 
 who derived so much benefit from it, tliat tlieir parents 
 felt it their duty to express a sense of their obligation to 
 its author. As for " Camille," it was a narrative of an 
 incident which occurred more than thirty years ago. I 
 knew Camille myself personally. 
 
 " When Do You Lie ?" " Every Eeligion is Good if we 
 only Follow it," (in 1847), and "The Catechism and the 
 Gospel," (in 1852), are scenes stamped on the religious life 
 of Geneva ; the two last, in particular, characterising that 
 life of the lower classes with which he was so entirely 
 familiar. 
 
 As will appear, if we run our eyes over the lists of his 
 writings, he published a dozen tracts after 1861, and tlie 
 greater part of them he composed for America, where he 
 had recently met with eager and attentive readers. Among 
 his latest writings there is one which, possibly owing to 
 the circumstance that it was issued anonymously, pro- 
 duced an indisputable impression in the religious world of 
 Trance. I allude to a brochure which appeared in 1851 
 with the heading, " Are You Happy — thoroughly Happy ? 
 Sincere Advice from Certain Friends." The subject had 
 been suggested to him by the Chevalier Eynard, whom he 
 frequently met at that time. It was very eulogistically 
 noticed in several journals; indeed its seventy-five pages 
 well deserved all the notice they received. Difierent, in 
 more respects than one, in style and thought, from all that 
 my father had previously written ; graceful and attractive 
 in language ; it was well calculated to produce a serious 
 
372 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 impression on educated men, whom the bustle of the 
 world, and the influence of an active and honourable life, 
 withheld from giving heed to the promises of the gospel. 
 Then, too, the whole is written from a point of view 
 entirely superior to mere ecclesiastical differences. Catholic 
 and Protestant may read it alike without encountering 
 anything bearing, in the remotest degree, on the traditional 
 form of their respective creeds. 
 
 Such was my father's public life from 1830. Evange- 
 lising journeys, with domestic incidents, formed the only 
 interruption to his regular pulpit ministry. His religious 
 work among strangers who came to his house, and his 
 literary activity we have endeavoured to set forth. It only 
 remains for us to add what bears upon his attitude (during 
 his latter years) towards different Free Churches, as well 
 as the National Church of his country. This I shall 
 endeavour to do in a few words, after having first recalled 
 my personal remiiiiscences of his private life. 
 
BOOK IIL 
 
 MALAY'S PRIVATE AND DOMESTIC LIFE— HIS CLOSING 
 RELATIONS TO THE CHURCH— THE EVENING OF 
 HIS LIFE, AND HIS DEATH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MALAN IN THE BOSOM OF HIS FAMILY. 
 
 " There in sweet strains of kindred music blending, 
 All the home voices meet at day's decline ; 
 One are those tones as from one heart ascending — 
 There is my home : " 
 
 Thus far, in describing my father's public -^ork, I have 
 had to deal simply with facts in the knowledge of all, and 
 doctrines which any one may judge. 
 
 At the same time, it has been my duty to temper any 
 approval with discretion, and to remember tliat these 
 facts in his life, public though they were, could only 
 be regarded by me from one point of view. AVliile, as 
 for doctrines, I cannot but be conscious that formulas of 
 his, which I scarcely felt / could use, w^ere in him but the 
 
374 LIFE OF CESAR MALAK 
 
 expressions of a faith, to the largeness and simplicity of 
 which I have never ceased to aspire. 
 
 In presence, however, of the attempt to record the per- 
 sonal life of one of the best of parents, such reserve ceases 
 to be necessary. The task, as easy as it is grateful, in- 
 spires me with but one sentiment of emotion, naturally 
 aroused on the review of a past which has gradually lost 
 its brightness under the influence of the chancres of time. 
 Could I at any time be led to hesitate in the task I have 
 undertaken, it would be from a consideration whether 
 sundry details, which filial affection loves to recall, would, 
 in the nature of things, prove interesting to the generality 
 of my readers. This much, however, I may venture to 
 say — and say it to all — that it pleased God to give me, in 
 my father, one whose excellence grew upon me the more 
 closely we were brought into contact. Experiencing this 
 most fully during his life, I have realised it even more 
 during the past year, which has been devoted to the per- 
 usal of his most confidential letters, and the survey of the 
 fugitive notes of his youth. Truly, I feel justified in declar- 
 ing openly my sense of an inestimable blessing, for which 
 I have never ceased to give thanks to God. Throughout all 
 these innumerable papers I have failed to encounter a word 
 or thought — I will not say, which filial affection would have 
 urged me to destroy, — but even which I would hesitate to 
 communicate to any whom it might concern. If they 
 reveal the characteristics of our common humanity with 
 its infirmities and imperfections, they show none of those 
 passing blots from which it would seem almost impossible 
 that the records of so long a life should be free. JSTot a 
 single sentiment have I discovered, nor a single word,. 
 
THE INNER CIRCLE. 375 
 
 wliicli my feelings as a son would have prompted me to 
 forget. iSTor have I found reason for the least regret that 
 I have been thus led to penetrate my father's inmost life 
 and most hidden thoughts. Here, even more than in his 
 public life, he has stood out before me such as I ever knew 
 him when he was upon earth, in the familiar intercourse of 
 the domestic circle. He appears not merely as among the 
 saintly few who dwell from day to day in the very pre- 
 sence of God, but as one to whom it would have been a 
 painful effort to live otherwise. 
 
 An extract from a confidential letter, written by him to 
 one of my sisters in 1850, will serve as an illustration : — 
 
 " There is nothing Utile for a soul to which all things 
 are dignified by the presence and government of God. 
 How often is the actual help of the Holy Spirit more 
 abundantly evident in a trivial incident, than in a great 
 deed. The wick of a lamp, ever so little charred, will 
 smoke ; and our Saviour bids us have ours well trimmed 
 as well as well furnished with oil. But it is not by haste, 
 nor by heedlessness, still less by impatience, that the 
 wick is cleaned and trimmed." 
 
 " Even though we lost all the grand and beautiful re- 
 membrances that our father has becxueathed to us," said 
 one of my brothers to me once, at the close of a conversa- 
 tion on some points in which we had been led ^to abandon 
 the traditions of our childhood, "there is one treasure 
 which we have all received from him, wliich alone would 
 suffice to render his memory a holy and a sacred thing in 
 our eyes. It is that truth which he has impressed upon 
 our souls, that God is not an idea, but a living reality ; not 
 a Being more or less separated from the details of our daily 
 
376 LIFE OF CjFSJE MALAN. 
 
 life, but the living omnipresent One, the actual witness of 
 our very thoughts, to Whom every day and every instant 
 of the day we are all accountable. And," added he, '' our 
 father has not been satisfied with telling^ us this, he has 
 done much more and much better. He has convinced us 
 of it by the practical illustration of his own daily life. He 
 has indeed walked before us, always and to the very end, 
 ' as serving Him Who is invisible.' " The truth of this re- 
 mark I am in a better position perhaps than any to appre- 
 ciate. Not only was my father the last man in the world 
 to sustain an assumed character ; not only would this have 
 been impossible to a nature so impulsive as his; but having 
 honoured me with a complete intimacy from a very early 
 age, he thus exhibited himself to me with complete unre- 
 serve. Meanwhile, during all the years that I lived under 
 his care, as well as during the after period in which not a 
 week passed without my meeting him more than once, I 
 never observed in him anything but what contributed to 
 confirm the assertion here made. Never did I see in him 
 a gesture, or hear from him a syllable, which, looking at it 
 from his point of view, I could regard as likely to yield 
 him subsequent regret. Not that I would have it inferred 
 that his manner was cold and constrained ; or that he was 
 wanting in that ease and freedom which alone can secure 
 the society of even the best of fathers from being occa- 
 sionally irksome to a son ; precisely the reverse. To the 
 very end of his life, little children, so quick by instinct to 
 discover any tendency to restrain their liberty, might have 
 been seen pressing eagerly round him, regarding him as 
 ''their true friend." As for young men, I can only say 
 that I never felt so thoroughly at my ease as when I was 
 
GENUINE SYMPATHY, 377 
 
 with him. Though I regarded him as the very personifica- 
 tion of conscience, I felt none the less that he was always 
 desirous to put himself in my place. He did not appear 
 to me as one of those who, not satisfied with their own con- 
 scientiousness, aim at forcing upon their children their 
 personal scruj)les. He was for ever urging me to recognise 
 the personal voice within me, the voice of God (as I myself 
 had learned) speaking to my soul. I saw that, with 
 his kindness and discrimination, he sympathised with me 
 entirely in all that was not wrong; while, at the same 
 time, I felt so certain of his judgment and absolute discre- 
 tion, that if I chanced, through the buoyancy of youthful 
 feelings, to transgress in the least degree the limits of justice 
 or charity, I knew that he to whom I spoke was as incap- 
 able of sparing me weakly as of reproving me harshly. I 
 never hesitated to disclose to him my whole mind, even 
 when I differed from him. Indeed, he would have soon 
 detected the least symptom of dissimulation, while he him- 
 self was the first to set me the example of that entire 
 independence of thought which recognises conscience only 
 as its absolute sovereign. Yet if, with all this freedom and 
 frankness, I forgot for a moment my duty towards him or 
 others, I was arrested at once, not indeed by a spoken 
 word (for he would have shrunk from seeing me blush at 
 his rebuke), but by that authoritative deportment and ex- 
 pression, which he held it his right at any time to assume, 
 even in moments of most confidential intercourse. AVhat- 
 ever might be the topic of our conversation, I was sure of 
 being understood, if not of being approved. It is univer- 
 sally allowed, that the most irritating of all discussions are 
 those which are indefinitely prolonged because tlie dis- 
 
378 LIFE OF CJESAF, MALAK 
 
 piitants fail to ascertain tlie measure in which they are 
 agreed. With a man of his intelligence and benevolence, 
 I had no fear of this. 
 
 Over recollections of a father of whom I am justified in 
 speaking in terms such as these, it is easier far to linger 
 than to glance. Without attempting, however, to present 
 him in these pages as he was to me in daily life, I shall 
 confine myself to recalling my personal reminiscences of 
 him, commencing from my earliest childhood. 
 
 Amonc? the first is the circumstance of hearinsj him 
 converse in Latin with my eldest brother. It was his wish 
 to spare his son the distress occasioned to most children 
 by the study of that language, as witnessed by himself in 
 his position of master in the college. For this purpose he 
 determined, from the first, to address him only in Latin. 
 Afterwards, when he was old enough to learn to read, my 
 father prepared a book containing vignettes drawn and 
 coloured by himself, having underneath little stories in 
 that language. As a result of this method, Latin is, to 
 this day, my brother's " mother tongue." * I only mention 
 this as an example of the zeal and assiduity my father 
 displayed in the prosecution of any design on which he 
 had resolved. Generally sj)eaking, indeed, he concerned 
 
 * I find the following in a letter from ]\Ir Bnien, dated from Geneva, in 
 1817, quoted in Dr Mason's Memoirs, p. 460 : — " What do you think of 
 my sitting down at table at Malan's house, in Geneva, with his little son, 
 six years old, who not only knew the name of everything he wanted in 
 Latin, but could sustain a conversation in that language. It may amuse 
 you to hear, that when Dr Mason and myself had engaged to dine with his 
 father, he was told, as something extraordinary, that two Americans were 
 to be there. His first exclamation, on seeing us, was, ' Amcricani? non 
 sunt cum plumisr He had no other idea of Americans than what he had 
 derived from prints, and therefore very naturally expected to see us in the 
 feathers and fantastic I'arb of Indians." 
 
IN THE STUDY. 379 
 
 himself with the education of each of us. My first lessons 
 of any importance — my first analyses — are linked with his 
 memory. Every evening at a certain hour, ahout the year 
 1829, 1 saw my elder brothers and sisters go into his study 
 with their paper books. In course of time I was permitted 
 to be ]Dresent. Alternate lessons in logic and rhetoric 
 formed the staple of the studies.* At a later period one 
 of my brothers and myself read with him some Latin 
 authors and the elements of geometry. Aided by his 
 varied experience, he gave us, further, our first ideas of 
 natural philosophy. To accomplish this he constructed 
 electric machines, one of them of large dimensions, with 
 the various appendages then in use. Sometimes, on fine 
 nights, he would adjust his large telescope, to show us the 
 satellites of Jupiter, or the mountains of the moon ; at 
 others, collecting us round his microscope, he made ns 
 handle, as it were, the proofs of the infinite goodness and 
 power of the Creator. He never failed to correct us every 
 time that we used a faulty grammatical expression. 
 Whenever a dispute arose upon a point of language, or of 
 history, for instance, he did not suffer the thing to remain 
 unsettled. "We must never put back till to-morrow the 
 settlement of any doubt," was what he said. When the 
 dictionary or grammar had decided the point at issue, he 
 would exclaim, in a tone of satisfaction, "There is one 
 error less ! " 
 
 My most vivid recollections, however, of that time gather 
 round certain seasons, in which he used to call us into his 
 room to tell us stories. It was on Sunday evenings after 
 
 * It will be evident at once, how thoroughly this course of instruction 
 serves, of itself, to illustrate the turn of his mind. 
 
380 LIFE OF C^SAE MALAN. 
 
 he had had his tea. We used to find him seated in an 
 easy-chair in front of the fire. IMy brothers and sisters 
 settled themselves right and left of him, while my place — I 
 was very small at the time — was ■usually at his feet, on a 
 thick rug which decorated the hearth. There, as I watched 
 the flame flickering on the logs of wood, while the fire died 
 slowly down, and the shadows danced on the Dutch tiles 
 of which the sides of the fire-place was composed, I 
 heard him tell us the story of the Watch-Chain, Eaoul, or 
 Theobald the Iron-Hearted, with several other original tales, 
 wdiich appeared subsequently in his "Veritable ami des 
 enfans," with "Didier le Vagabond," ''Jean des Eaquettes, 
 and " The German Tinder Dealer." Before publishing them 
 he wished to test their effect upon us, and so, by the follow- 
 ing Sunday, we had to set down what we had heard — 
 while the hints he gave me one day, after I had tried my 
 hand at writing a page, I remember, and find useful still. 
 He was, indeed, much more than a careful and exact 
 grammarian. He never failed, though it was only by a 
 word, and that most kindly spoken, to indicate any defect 
 of thought or character, so frequently betrayed by inaccu- 
 racy of language or style. Let it be added, however, that 
 while he thus laid the utmost stress on clearness and 
 precision of thought, he was anything but a pedant. 
 What he had in view, in his teaching, was not so much 
 the idea that struck himself, as how to enable his pupil to 
 apprehend it. Hence these lessons were eagerly looked 
 forward to by us ; and, as for me, the day when I had to 
 exchange his teaching for a tutor's, remains among the 
 saddest of my earliest boyhood. 
 
 At a very early period he began to teach us drawing ; 
 
IN TEE WORKSHOP. 381 
 
 and ever afterwards, when, (among the first in Geneva to 
 do so,) he applied to A. Calame to instruct us, he scarcely 
 ever omitted to come into the room where the lesson 
 was being given, if it was only for a few moments, either 
 to exchange a few words with " the dear master," or to go 
 from one to another with a word of encouragement, or 
 uniformly kind criticism.* 
 
 With reference to his sons, in particular, — he it was w^ho 
 gave us an early taste for handicraft. When the weather 
 was bad, and we were at liberty, he opened his workshop. 
 It was a large room, containing a lathe for his own use, 
 and a smaller one for us, a forge with a locksmith's 
 belongings, a carpenter's bench, and a large assortment of 
 tools of every kind, many of which had been manu- 
 factured by himself. Here he instructed us in the art of 
 distincruishinfi; the various kinds of wood, and estimatinsj 
 their value, as well as of making and using tools ; or sum- 
 moned us to help him in some particular task. 
 
 He united, to great muscular strength, singular certainty 
 and skilful lightness in the use of his hands. Partial to 
 manly exercises, he was the first to teach me riding and 
 fencing. 
 
 * I remember well the day he sent me, about 1S30, to ask Calame, at 
 that time very little known, if he could come and give lessons at our house. 
 I found the artist by the bedside of his aged mother. He came the next 
 day, and I have still the oak branch which he painted before me in sepia, 
 and which he handed to me with the remark, " Here is my first copy." 
 Calame never forgot what he loved to call my father's kindness ; he often 
 referred to it with me, as well as to the words of faith and piety he heard 
 him utter. Meanwhile my father, for his part, never wavered in his sincere 
 attachment to one whom he regarded, not only as a gifted artist, but also 
 as a true and humble believer. At Mentone, Calame, at the point of 
 death, expressed his desire to see my father once more, and one of his last 
 regrets was caused by his being informed that Malan had anticipated him, — 
 as it happened only by a few days, — in hia entrance into everlasting rest. 
 
382 LIFE OF CjESAE MALAN. 
 
 E'ot that he was our only instructor. He had not suffi- 
 cient leisure for the purpose. But he ascertained for him- 
 self, before handing us over to masters, in what quarter 
 our special tastes lay. What he especially desired was, 
 that whatever we undertook, we should do well ; and he 
 omitted nothing in furnishing us with the means. He set 
 up for my eldest brother a bookbinder's workshop, com- 
 pletely furnished. Afterwards, on noticing the interest 
 with which another of us employed himself with a 
 child's printing press, he made him a small one of iron, 
 with all the proper accompaniments. The printer, who 
 was then about twelve, was soon informed that, as his 
 printed matter was circulating among the public, he ought 
 to take out the requisite license. It was for this printing 
 press of the Pre-Beni that my father wrote his " speaking 
 vignettes." 
 
 In spite of the unfailing and varied character of his 
 activity, I cannot help remembering that, much as he 
 enjoyed the country, he never occupied himself with horti- 
 culture. It was a sine qua non with him that the fruits of 
 his exertions should be rapid and reliable. AYhat could 
 not be calculated upon with certainty failed to attract 
 his mind, as it might have attracted others. 
 
 Fond as he was of giving away, he would have nothing 
 lost. While out for a walk, I have seen him stop to pick 
 up a nail, a pin, or some other trifling thing ; remarking, as 
 he did so, that he would one day find a use for it. It is 
 true, he possessed the talent of turning everything to 
 account. On this point, he used often to quote to us, when 
 we were children, the exam|)le of the hero of our age, 
 Eobinson Crusoe. One day, I remember, he brought me a 
 
' DECENCY AND ORDER. 383 
 
 knife, the handle of which he had made out of an old bone 
 bleached by the sun, wliile he had forged the blade out of 
 a piece of steel which I had seen him pick up in the road 
 some days before. 
 
 Devoted to method and order, he left their impress on 
 every household arrangement. In connection with this, he 
 congratulated himself on the year he had sj)ent as a young 
 man in a bank at Marseilles. He required the members 
 of his family to be punctual, whether at family prayers or at 
 meals, the signal for which was given, precisely at the 
 hour, by a bell hung outside the house. Each of us had a 
 set of tablets, in which he would show us how to enter 
 hour by hour, at the beginning of each new season, what- 
 ever we had to do each day of^he week. He was very 
 urgent in requiring his boys to rise early, and very careful' 
 to see that we had a short time for recreation after every 
 meal. In summer our first lesson was at six o'clock. 
 He was generally up at four himself ; and, during the fine 
 summer days, we often saw him as we met for prayers and 
 breakfast, returning from his morning walk. 
 
 If his activity was constant, it was by no means restless. 
 No one ever found him in a hurry or confusion, just as, on 
 the other hand, he was neither a dreamer nor a chatterer. 
 His recreation was manual labour. 
 
 It would be difficult to mention all the various thimxs 
 he could do. Sometimes I saw him with a graver's tool in 
 his hand, a glazier's diamond, or a tinsmith's irons. Then, 
 again, he would be devoted to maldng ink or sealing wax, 
 or some other preparation. On other occasions, when he 
 had a few spare hours, he would paint, or compose music, or 
 (as was the case especially during the years I most vividly 
 
 ^ 
 
384 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAK 
 
 recall), lie would busy himself with lithography, or in his 
 workshop. There, putting on a workman's waistcoat and 
 apron, he applied himself vigorously to whatever he had 
 to do. Always thorough in his undertakings, he might 
 often be heard singing a hymn while he was at work, or 
 whistling the air of it ; and when he succeeded in what he 
 was about, he generally came to my mother or me to make 
 us partners of his satisfaction. It may be added that he 
 had a habit of succeeding; and that through the house, and 
 through the houses of his friends, he was looked upon as 
 able to repair anything. I have seen him accomplish, in 
 this respect, perfect marvels of ingenuity and skill. 
 
 But to return to my earliest recollections. On Thursday 
 afternoons, when the weaiiilier was fine, we used generally 
 -to go out for a walk with him, all together. Getting into 
 the country as quickly as possible, we halted on the bank 
 of a stream, or under a cluster of trees, or in some other soli- 
 tary nook ; there, — the little ones being tired with running 
 about, — he would gather us round him, and enlarge upon the 
 habits of various field animals, or tell us the names of the 
 flowers we might happen to bring him. He showed us in 
 everything the wisdom and goodness of God, Whose pre- 
 sence was ever filling his souL It was on one of these occa- 
 sions that, observing me striking a little branch in a hedge 
 with my stick, he asked me to bring it to him ; and when 
 we stopped to rest he began, with his pen-knife in his hand, 
 to give me my first ideas of the construction of one of 
 those leaves, the wonderful development of which I had 
 been thoughtlessly arresting. 
 
 Sometimes, in the summer, he took us rambles of some 
 days' duration through the surrounding country. I was 
 
EVENINGS AT HOME. 385 
 
 six years old when T saw liim set out with my ekler bro- 
 ther to visit the Salines de Bex. The following year I was 
 one of the party, and that time he took us to the valley 
 of the Lac de Joux, in the Jura, and the iron-works of 
 Vallorbes. Afterwards, from time to time, it was my good 
 fortune to accompany him on various walking expeditions. 
 Equipped witli a light coat and knapsack, he strode on at 
 a famous rate, and, in spite of my youth, I had enough to 
 do to keep up with him. I have given elsewhere an account 
 furnished from my recollection of one of these trips. They 
 w^ere occasions on which he showed lumself the most de- 
 lightful of touring companions, took part in all the delights 
 of my age, and identified himself with all my enthusiasm. 
 
 In our earlier years, however, it was in the winter time 
 that he associated himself most forcibly witli our young 
 life. With it came the long evenings, which we spent 
 with our mother round the drawing-room table. There, 
 every one was occupied. Whilst my sisters were busy 
 with needlework, T drew or read aloud. Often we had 
 music. One of my brothers would accompany my sister 
 on the flute — she playing the piano — and we generally 
 finished by singing together one of my father's or Bost's 
 hymns. To the little ones, meanwhile, winter was 
 supremely the time of " lantern " evenings, and tlie glories 
 of New Year's day. 
 
 The optical lantern (we were forbidden to say magic) 
 was a phantasmagoria of considerable size, still in my pos- 
 session, and a source of great delight to my childron. Its 
 slides were all painted by my fatlier him.seir. He had 
 wished, in his first journey to England, to learn tlie art of 
 painting on glass, but as an exorbitant price was demanded 
 
386 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAK 
 
 for communicating the secret, he set to work to find it out 
 for himself, and soon succeeded. He then proceeded to 
 paint natural history subjects, cheerful family scenes, &c., 
 but especially moral stories, as also a series of our Lord's 
 parables. 
 
 I may be permitted to describe here one of those pic- 
 tures. As I exhibit them to my own children, they carry 
 me back to the time when, myself a child, at the given 
 signal, a blast from an ox-horn sounding from the top of 
 the stair-case, we hurried, a delighted audience, into the 
 darkened room where my father, standing before his lan- 
 tern, awaited our presence in front of the great screen. 
 
 As an illustration, " The story of poor Diego." The first 
 scene presented the negro, as black as jet. Standing before 
 his hut, shadowed by a palm-tree, he smokes his pipe ; while 
 he watches his wife rocking their infant in a tortoise-shell 
 cradle. IsText, he is to be seen going to his field, with his 
 hoe and rake upon his shoulder, passing a hedge on his 
 way, the resemblance of which to those in our country I 
 find a little too exact, but which I fully appreciated at six 
 years old. In the third scene, the drama commences. 
 The first thing that strikes us is the appearance of two 
 Portuguese. Not to libel the Portuguese of the present 
 day, they appear with the feathered head-gear and dress of 
 the sixteenth century. One of them, with his sabre, points 
 out Diego to his companion, who is armed with a musket, 
 while the poor negro, whom the latter has just seized 
 by the arm, stretches out the hand that is still at 
 liberty, in the direction of his hut. But the " robbers of 
 men" (as the Bible calls them, so our father invariably 
 added) are merciless ; and their canoe is next seen quitting 
 
LIGHT IN DARKNESS. 387 
 
 the bank, and carrying off the groaning victim to the slave- 
 ship, anchored a little lower down in the road-stead. This 
 slide disappears from our view, and the next transports us 
 to the plantation of the Antilles. A white man is seen 
 '' elabouring an unhappy black, who had been forced by the 
 scorching sun to suspend for a moment his heavy drudgery ; 
 doubtless to dream of his wife and his poor little one. 
 Then comes the last scene. Diego is stretched on a 
 wretched pallet, in a pent-house, stretching out his hand 
 towards heaven, just as he is about to die in his ^Tetched- 
 ness. " But, my children," said our father, as he heard us 
 little ones trying in vain to keep back our tears, " don't 
 think that our loving heavenly Tather has forgotten 
 Diego. He knew what He was doing, in allowing the poor 
 negro to be torn from his. far-off African home. Diego 
 met, at the Antilles, a missionary — a true Christian. He 
 spoke to him of that glorious Saviour Who had suffered for 
 black men as well as white. Hence you see him on his 
 bed of death giving thanks to God who had thus caused the 
 message of ' good news ' to reach him ; and beseeching him 
 to convey the same tidings to his wife in the land of the 
 blacks ; a request with which the missionary promises com- 
 pliance." It will be seen that my father, while he thus 
 inspired his children with utter horror of the robbers of 
 men, w^as not at the same thne altogether an abolitionist, 
 as the term is understood in our day. 
 
 But all these lantern scenes would merit description. 
 One of my brothers, to whom I was showing them not very 
 long ago, put them aside after glancing at them. " Stay !" 
 he exclaimed, " I seem to hear him yet, telling us the story 
 of the Samaritan, or the good Shepherd, ur the dcbturs, or 
 
388 LIFE OF CyFSJB MALAN. 
 
 especially of the servant standing, liis lamp in his hand, 
 listening, with his hand stretched towards the door, to dis- 
 cover whether the footsteps he heard were those of his 
 tarrying master; while through the window might be seen the 
 moon going down and the sunrise crimsoning the horizon." 
 Amongst them, also, were amusing slides ; for example, a 
 school-boy, his cheeks red with cold, his cap on his ears, 
 appears shouting, " Take care ! " at the bottom of a slide 
 on which his sledge has already overturned a companion 
 in the snow; or again, the hunt after the cat that had 
 stolen the roast-beef and was being pursued by the old 
 cook, armed with a spit; the man-cook brandishing his 
 cleaver, the master of the house re-adjusting his spectacles, 
 and an old neighbour joining in with a hand-screen. As I 
 recall my vivid remembrances of these evenings, I cannot 
 forget the wish expressed by my father, that some intelli- 
 gent colporteurs could be sent out, whose sole business it 
 should be to collect the villao^ers tocrether on winter even- 
 ings to witness similar exhibitions. Of course, it would 
 be requisite that such men should be distinguished by that 
 thorough reality of character which made the transition as 
 easy as possible, and free of all outrage to the feelings of the 
 spectator, from sacred to secular subjects. For myself, I try 
 to recall his very words, when I am relating to my children 
 the story of Diego, or of James the chimney-sweep; or 
 when, with the pictures in my hand, so full of liveliness 
 and expression, which my father painted, I repeat the 
 parable of the talents, or of the prodigal son. 
 
 But the great event of the winter to us was the Xew 
 Year feast. It was then especially that my father poured 
 out the fulness of his loving heart. By dint of great pains 
 
NEJV YEARS DAY. 389 
 
 and personal sacrifices, lie contrived tlie means to enrich us 
 all ; and the ever varying way in which he planned the 
 celebration of the evening of the 31st of December, or Xew 
 Year's Eve, the part he took in it himself, the joy he 
 experienced in our joy, and the few hearty spiritual words 
 which he addressed to us the last tjiing before we knelt 
 down toLTether with our mother and him to render thanks 
 
 o 
 
 to our gracious God and heavenly Father, — these are 
 things that remain indelibly engraved on the memory of 
 us all. 
 
 The next morning aft<3r breakfast (when we received the 
 presents exhibited to us the evening before), we repaired to 
 the chapel. In his Xew Year sermons he displayed all the 
 earnestness of his faith, and all the force of his eloquence. 
 Xever was he so impressive as when, led thus to place him- 
 self and his hearers face to face with the solemnities of 
 eternity, he made us realise in a measure the vanity of 
 our days, and the nearness of that departure which was to 
 be to him, as each year brought it nearer, a blessed entrance 
 into the heavenly city. 
 
 After service, we repaired to the home of his parents (my 
 mother's had died before 1828). He himself walked first, 
 with my mother on his arm, and his children behind. 
 He did not omit, in passing, to give little Xew Year's gifts 
 to the custom-house officer, or the soldier at the city-gate, 
 accompanied by words of kindly Christian greeting ; while 
 more than one passer-by stopped to salute him, and to 
 watch his numerous family going by. 
 
 The reader will be astonished, perhaps, to find n()Lhing 
 as yet indicative of the discipline a fiither is invariably 
 called upon to exercise over his children. As a ride he 
 
390 LIFE OF C^SAR MA LAN. 
 
 avoided reproving and scolding. He liad, as it were, a 
 deep respect for the individual liberty even of liis youngest 
 children ; and what he aimed at, from the very first, was 
 to furnish their hearts and understandings with sound 
 principles, which he had a peculiar aptitude for presenting 
 to us under a striking form. " A truth well expressed and 
 well understood," he used to say, "is like a nail well 
 planted — it is small, but it is iron and solid — many things 
 may be hung upon it." His rules for conduct bore rather 
 upon the loill than the actions, and appealed to the con- 
 science in preference to the memory, " If you would know, 
 my children, wdiat you ought to do," he used often to say 
 to us, " if you would know whether you have acted rightly, 
 ask if the Lord Jesus, at your age, and in your place, 
 did do, or would have done, the same. Never go where 
 He cannot follow you. Shun, in your companionship, your 
 amusements, your pursuits, your readings, everything on 
 which you cannot heartily implore the divine blessing." 
 Most undoubtedly, when I was a boy, I never knew my 
 father hesitate either to prohibit or sanction, as occasion 
 required. Even then, however, he endeavoured to explain 
 to me, in a manner adapted to my youth, the reasons and 
 principles by which he was guided. In after years he 
 contented himself with reminding me of them. 
 
 As for discipline, in the strict sense of the term, or, 
 in other words, punishment, — I can only say that his 
 memory is identified to us with nothing but perfect kind- 
 ness. 
 
 He only punished very rarely, and always most reluct- 
 antly. Tliere was but one fault to which he held himself 
 bound to be merciless, and that was the least departure 
 
GENTLE DISCIPLINE. 391 
 
 from truthfulness. He was for ever assurinir us that a 
 lie was of the devil, that liars should not tarry in his 
 house, that that was the only crime of which our time of 
 life was capable, and tliat exaggeration and detraction 
 were as avenues conductinoj to it. Our father never struck 
 us, in a hasty moment ; as need scarcely be asserted. As 
 for corporal punishment, he by no means adopted those 
 \dews which the false e<ioism of Eomanism has made 
 fashionable. The only consideration with him was his 
 duty^ as a father, to the exclusion of abstruse considera- 
 tions of this or that theory about the abstract dignity of 
 human nature. Yet, at the same time, as a matter of fact, 
 I don't think he ever used the rod, except once or twice, 
 in the case of liis younger sons; and this reminiscence 
 only recalls to them his quiet solemn grief, which caused 
 them their greatest sufferings ; while his feelings, on the 
 other hand, were never allowed to interfere with his sub- 
 mission to what he regarded as the order God Himself 
 (Prov. xxiii. 13, 14; Heb. xii. 7, 10,) has given to parents 
 in the interests of their children. As for back-biting, he 
 ^dewed with displeasure every kind of idle discussion of a 
 neighbour. He well knew tliat a proper name was so 
 called, because it was the proper or private possession of 
 him who owned it, and tliat no one has any right to take 
 liberties with it. At table, where he delighted to hear us 
 talk, he watched the conversation, and directed it always 
 himself, witli perfect tact, to cheerful or instructive subjects; 
 introducing, as occasion offered, serious and lieartfclt words. 
 Nor did he ever forget to render tlianks witli all of us, 
 standing up with his hat in his hand, before each meal. 
 Such are my early recollections of my fatlier. They 
 
392 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 close in 1835, when I left for the first time my paternal 
 home, and the garden within whose quiet enclosure my 
 whole j)revious life had been passed. 
 
 I was then fourteen years old, and my father took me 
 to Wiirtemberg to learn German. We stopped at Schaff- 
 hausen, where he preached ; and there I saw him for the 
 first time receive from the clergy of an official church, 
 testimonies of attachment and respect. At Stuttgardt, 
 where he visited those who twelve years before had sent 
 him the first proofs of sympathy he had received from 
 abroad, he was given the address of Albert Knapp, with 
 whom I was to remain some time. Arrived at the little 
 town where he lived, my father ascertained that the castle, 
 visible from the iron window, was inhabited by that very 
 princess who in 1819 had attended with her daughters the 
 meetings at the Pre I'Eveque. Sending in his card, he was 
 welcomed with the utmost cordiality and respect by that 
 noble Christian lady ; and the kindness his son experienced 
 afterwards, for his sake, at her hands, remain among the 
 most cherished remembrances of his early youth. On his 
 return, my father was requested to preach in the Eeformed 
 Church of Stuttgardt. The commencement of his sermon 
 produced a marked impression ; but a Lutheran congrega- 
 tion could not fail to be irritated when he closed with his 
 personal views on the election of grace. The result was 
 that, in spite of the generally expressed desire to hear him 
 again, no further offer of the pulpit was made. He had 
 left the place, however, when it became known in the 
 town that a decision on the point had been arrived at. 
 
 In August 1837 he saw, for the first and last time, and 
 only lor one week, his entire family reassembled round his 
 
COJIIXG SOPJlOJr. 393 
 
 table. At our last meal each of us received five francs 
 from him, with which to purchase some remembrance of 
 that family gathering. At my side, as I write, I see the 
 paper weight I purchased at the time; but what I see 
 even more clearly is the look of radiant pleasure with 
 which, on that last day, our dear father arranged the 
 twelve pieces of silver on the table. 
 
 It was not without great difficulty that one of my 
 brothers had been enabled to join us. This brings me to 
 speak of the only occasion for mourning which my father 
 ever experienced in his family circle. JNloreover, the 
 death to which I refer, with the long years of pain and 
 anxiety which preceded it, forms a marked epoch in our 
 domestic history. It closes, with the majority of us, the 
 sunshiny days of our childhood. It was the first time the 
 shadow of death had crossed my father's path, — up to that 
 period so clothed with life and brightness. 
 
 My brother Jocelyn (who was called after his godfather. 
 Lord lioden, one of my father's oldest and best friends), 
 began, when he was seven years old, and probably in con- 
 sequence of a severe fall which he had at that time, to 
 betray the first symptoms of a terrible nervous disease. 
 As the attacks only occurred in the night, one of his 
 brothers, with the sanction of the medical attendant, suc- 
 ceeded in concealing their gravity from his parents for 
 about two years. Gradually, however, the disease 
 assumed such a form tliat it became absolutely necessary 
 to tell them the truth, and we soon began to lose all hope 
 of a cure being eilected. ^ly dear mother speedily adopted 
 this sorrowful view, but my latlier tliouglit otherwise. 
 Such an opinion seemed to him a want of faith; and 
 
394 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 wliilst lie encountered the malady witli the energy and 
 perseverance of his character, he constantly reminded ns 
 of God's promise to hear prayer. He did not know at the 
 time that the years that lay before him were to be sent, 
 not to furnish a new triumph to believing assurance, but 
 to teach him the long and painful lesson of sacrifice and 
 silent submission. 
 
 After three years' study abroad, I had to return home. 
 I found my father greatly changed. His expression was 
 wearied and anxious. Before deciding on allotting a room 
 in the garden for my poor brother and the watcher, who 
 soon remained permanently with him, he had had him in 
 a little room which opened into his own. My father and 
 I were at that time the sole occupants of the top story of 
 the house. 
 
 Let me mention one of the most vividly remembered 
 scenes of that distressing time. One night, aroused by a 
 cry from my sick brother, I sprang out of bed and left my 
 room. A ray of light fell across the floor of the corridor, 
 through the half-opened door of the room where he was 
 lying. Entering, I saw my father in his dressing-gown, 
 his candle at his side, on his knees by the bed on which 
 my poor brother was writhing in the last struggles of one 
 of his attacks. With head bent, and gaze fixed on the con- 
 vulsed features of his unhappy child, he appeared to be 
 uttering, in a low voice, a prayer of anguish, and through 
 the flowing: locks of his now white hair I saw the silent 
 tears that his rending heart sent forth, trickling down his 
 emaciated face. I retreated witliout his seeing me. From 
 that time, it was not without awe that I watched, as from 
 a distance, tlie strucrgle to which his powerful nature was 
 
A MOTHERS RECORD. 395 
 
 a prey. I saw him wrestling with the angel God had sent 
 to meet him in his way. I felt that, as with the patriarch 
 of old, so with him ; the struggle was to be in solitude, the 
 conflict in the dark ; and that if he was to come forth vic- 
 .torious, it would be at the cost of wounds and scars. 
 Wlien the day arrived on which (after years of torture so 
 inconceivable that, towards the last, none but my mother 
 and myself were permitted access to the sick-room) the 
 hour of deliverance sounded, it left him stricken into 
 silence. 
 
 As for the poor invalid, — while each day the thouglit of 
 his terrible pain settled down upon us like a deepening 
 cloud, — while those who saw him (including even the doctors 
 themselves) were overpowered at the spectacle of liis inde- 
 scribable sufferinos, — he himself, thoucj-h at first he seemed 
 as if he could not accept his lot, began suddenly to diSj^lay 
 a sweetness and resignation so angelic as to strike tue 
 very strangers who came to visit him, and to be edified by 
 witnessing his submission. 
 
 I have at my side a few pages written by my mother at 
 the instigation of M. Gaussen, and recording what she had 
 seen during her poor boy's weary years of suffering. I 
 cannot quote them entirely, but I may be permitted to 
 insert a few extracts. Apart from the interest attacliing 
 to the incidents they record, they will serve to give an 
 idea of the experience my parents were called upon to 
 undergo, as well as to reveal, in a measure, llie character 
 of her whose gentle, lowly piety, togetlier with lier devo- 
 tion and courage in every extremity, have ever been at the 
 source of my father's domestic peace and happiness. 
 
 After a few detailed accounts of terrible episodes in that 
 
396 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAN, 
 
 long illness, and various incidents noticed at different 
 times, she writes thus (I give the passage curtailed), a few 
 days after Jocelyn's death : — 
 
 " While his life wore away in terrible anguish, I saw 
 him grow in holiness and submission to God. Daily, with 
 three or four exceptions, I passed four or five hours at his 
 bedside, in the most precious and sacred communion. 
 While I witnessed his anguish, I was also the depositary 
 of his feelings ; and I traced in them, clearly reflected, the 
 blessed victorious work of the Holy Spirit of God. 
 
 " One day, when he was worse than usual, I read to him 
 several times the consolatory descriptions and promises of 
 the 21st and 22d chapters of the Eevelation. When I 
 had finished, he said to me, with the sweetest expression, 
 ' How thankful I shall be to be there !' Whether, ov\ing 
 to the circumstance that his distressing malady had too 
 greatly exliausted him to admit of liis following an argu- 
 ment, or because a silent awe held me back from in- 
 truding on the celestial teaching which he was receiving, 
 under my very eyes, from the Holy Spirit of God, I 
 explained the Word to him A^ery sparingly. Listening 
 rather myself for what God would teach him, I contented 
 myself with offering, from time to time, any explanation 
 he might apply for. But I prayed with him ; nor did I 
 ever do so without his countenance assuming afterwards a 
 celestial peace and happiness, of which, indeed, he testified 
 in the most touching manner. 
 
 " One striking feature in his character was his holy fear 
 of God, and reverence for His will. One day I was 
 repeating a verse from the Psalms (Ps. xl. 17), ' As for me 
 I am poor and needy, but the Lord careth for me : thou 
 
" MY EXPECTATION IS FROM IIIM." 397 
 
 art my helper and deliverer ; Lord, make no long tarry- 
 ing.' He said, ' jMamma, I love that verse ; all hut the 
 last hit. It looks like a murmur against God. He never 
 " tarries " in my case.' Alas ! how far my own heart was 
 removed from this suhmission, as I marked the long delay 
 in succouring my darling. 
 
 " While I watched liim lying day after day and week 
 after week on his hed of sufferino- cut off from all that 
 brightens life, he would say to me, from time to time, 
 'Dear mother, how the time flies on; how short it is!' 
 and then he would add, 'How good God is to me! He 
 graciously dwells with me in my heart. I feel Him ever 
 at hand, dear mother, and I seem as if I could speak to 
 Him just as I am speaking to you.' 
 
 " On his countenance, the faithful index of his soul, I 
 never saw a shadow of trouble or distress except on 
 account of sin; as, for instance, when he prayed to be 
 resigned under his sufferings, or had become acquainted 
 with some fault committed around him. 
 
 " One day, during his last week on earth, when he could 
 scarcely speak without great difficulty, he said to me, 
 ' All, mother, how I long to be patient and submissive to 
 my God;' and on my assuring him tliat he was, and that 
 he might give thanks for this, he replied, ' Yes, mother, I 
 can; for it is not I that am submissive, but His i)0wer 
 working in me.' 
 
 " Ten or twelve days before his departure, he said to me, 
 with deep feeling, ' Ah, mother, you do not know wliat I 
 have seen !' ' What have you seen, darling ?' * Oh, I liave 
 seen and heard tilings I cannot describe; they were so 
 glorious ! Oh I have been so happy ! Dear mother, words 
 
398 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 could not utter what I have witnessed. I could not, 
 I must not, tell you. Oh what glory! and it lasted 
 so long !' I saw at once that the Good Shepherd, — to 
 strengthen him, and give him courage for the endurance of 
 his sufferings which were increasing daily, — had revealed 
 to him, by the Holy Spirit, during the watches of the 
 night (it was in the early morning), the glories on which 
 he was so soon to enter. 
 
 " His natural character had been singularly upright, but 
 inclined to pride, and sometimes to unldndness to his 
 inferiors ; but the grace of Christ made him the humblest 
 of little children. During the last seventeen months of 
 his illness, in which I watched him all tlie day, I never 
 saw him, but on two or three occasions, in the least degree, 
 exacting. Meanwhile, he never murmured ; I never heard 
 a complaint from him, even in his paroxysms of suftering ; 
 or even a simple groan. He always begged my pardon for 
 cries unconsciously uttered during his attacks. He never 
 spoke of his sufferings, except to bless the Lord for having 
 sent them to him, and thus led him to know and serve 
 Him. 
 
 " Once he said to me, ' I do not envy my brothers and 
 sisters, I assure you ; they are still in the midst of the 
 world, with its temptations and vanities : while I am taken 
 away from it by my Saviour's power. Ah, I am happier 
 than they all.' 
 
 " The passages of Scripture, which sustained him most 
 abundantly, were, ' I have chosen Thee in the furnace of 
 affliction ;' ' He learned obedience by the things which 
 he suffered ;' ' Out of much tribulation we enter the king- 
 dom of God.' When I repeated to him the words of the 
 
RESURGAM. 309 
 
 Lord Jesus, ' Tatlier, not my will, but Tliine be done ;' lie 
 added, ' Amen !' 
 
 " One last grace, wliicli beautified tliis Christian spirit, 
 was extreme humility. Once, when I emphatically com- 
 mended him, he said to me, with striking solemnity, 
 ' Mother, don't flatter me ! ' I never thought of doing so. 
 Alas, I could never convey an idea of his expression ; * the 
 sweet sound of his voice ; and the ineffable celestial j)eace 
 Avhich marked the least of his actions, and hallowed all his 
 wishes ! His holy, blessed memory wdll follow me all 
 my life. 
 
 " Once, when in an outburst of affection I lavished on 
 him the tenderest epithets, such as ' my darling,' ' my de- 
 light/ ' my comfort and joy,' he said, ' Dear mother, you 
 tempt me ; don't say all that to me.' ' I may call you my 
 darling, then, mayn't I ? ' His sweet smile said ^ yes.' " 
 
 In January 1846, after nine years' suffering, tlie most 
 terrible symptoms of his disease increased in intensity. 
 On the 26th of that month, I spent almost the whole night 
 at his bedside with my father. We had scarcely left him, 
 on his becoming to all appearance a little more composed, 
 when the message came that he had j)assed away to his 
 everlasting rest. 
 
 The following year, after witnessing in a bloody revolu- 
 tion the end of the Geneva of my earliest recollections, I 
 went al)road again. From that time, i'or many years, I Avas 
 only at home on a visit. A few words, therefore, with re- 
 
 * My brother Jocelyn had a singularly beautiful expression. ISIy father 
 referred to it when, in the poem entitled, "A Father at the Grave of his 
 Boy," he wrote that verse — 
 
 " How sweet it was to see 
 Thy soul look through thiuc eyes ! " 
 
400 LIFE OF C^SAR MILAN. 
 
 ference to my father's attitude towards me in my early 
 manhood, will be appropriate at this point. 
 
 ISTo one felt more than he did that the isolation into 
 which he had been brought, together with his family, in 
 Geneva, was calculated to increase the embarrassments 
 which every youth must expect to encounter at the com- 
 mencement of his career. Hence he effectually guarded 
 himself, by explicit and numerous rules, from interposing 
 any further difficulty in our way, shut out as we already 
 were from the world in which we lived as much by the 
 principles and customs of his household as by the stigma 
 which attached to our name. 
 
 Ever ready to listen to us and advise with ns when we 
 referred to him, he never took the initiative. It was not 
 by orders, it was by a simple setting forth of principles and 
 of faith, above all, by the unremitting influence of his 
 whole life, that he most powerfully ruled us. It is true 
 that, on the one hand, the discipline of his house was abso- 
 lute ; while, on the other, his influence was such that it 
 would have been impossible for any one to have felt 
 themselves perfectly independent under his eye. But 
 nothing of this resulted from an avowed purpose or pre- 
 meditated calculation. Above all, there was nothing to 
 remind one, even remotely, of that direct personal authority 
 which, once irrevocably asserted, leaves a son no choice, 
 except between hypocrisy and revolt. 
 
 To touch only on my own case : I shall content myself 
 with observing here that, until I came to mature years, my 
 father's will was in my eyes the very personification of the 
 wiU of God Himself At the same time, I hasten to add 
 that, so far from seeking to inspire me with this view, he 
 
RELATIONS WITH THE CHURCHES. 401 
 
 would have been staggered had he become aware of the 
 earnestness with which I adojited it. 
 
 Having lost his father in 1840, and received, in 1844, 
 news of the death of his brother (who had lived most of 
 his life abroad), he closed his mother's eyes at Vandoeuvres 
 in 1848. That year commences the evening of his life. 
 IN'ot only was he left alone from that time, as regards all 
 who had surrounded his childhood, but never was he so 
 painfully conscious of his isolation in Geneva. 
 
 Indeed, it was then that he felt himself compelled to 
 abandon the idea of reunion with his seceding brethren. 
 I will arrest the record of my personal recollections (to 
 which I shall have an opportunity of recurring when I 
 reach that part of my subject), for the purpose of supplying 
 a few details in connection with his last intercourse, in 
 public life, with Free Churches abroad and in Geneva itself, 
 as well as ^vitli the iSTational Church of his country. As I 
 was away from home the greater part of the time to which 
 I am now referring, I shall be careful to indicate the 
 sources from which my information has been derived. 
 
 Section 2. — Ilis Final Relations vnth the Churches. 
 
 If there be one thing supremely worthy to attract the 
 
 believer's thought, it is the way in which faitli invariably 
 
 succeeds, despite the errors and weaknesses of cartli, in 
 
 maintaininof its eternal ridit in the hearts of all tliose in 
 
 whom its empire has been thoroughly estal)lislied. The 
 
 spectacle of every really Christian life sliould lead us to 
 
 appreciate the victorious development of the spiritual 
 
 man, — the man born from above. And it is only in propor- 
 
 2c 
 
402 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAK 
 
 tion as sucli is the case with us that we can regard 
 ourselves as having arrived at a proper estimate of such 
 a life. 
 
 This thought, frequently present to me in the course of 
 my narrative, comes up with new force now that I have to 
 describe the j)osition which my father uniformly assumed 
 in reference to all that affected the form and outward 
 discipline of the churches. 
 
 It has been already observed that in his case the mani- 
 festation of the faith of the heart presented, from the very 
 first, two aspects. It revealed itself especially in the form 
 of doctrine. It was in opposing the setting forth of a 
 positive dogma, or of negative dogmatism which it was 
 sought to impose on his preaching, that he testified, at the 
 first, his faith in the free salvation of God, and in the 
 Saviour of his soul. It was this same faith, moreover, in 
 the reality of the celestial gift, and consequently in the 
 privileges and duties resulting from it to true believers, 
 which led him subsequently to unite with his brethren in 
 a separate Church, when the ecclesiastical institution to 
 which he belonged, had prohibited him from freely ex- 
 pressing his \dews. Thus his separation from the Esta- 
 blishment was, in his eyes, an essentially religious act — was, 
 in fact, so far as he was concerned, the simple indispen- 
 sable testimony of the faith of his heart. 
 
 Side by side with this, however, new elements afterwards 
 appeared. A singularly pertinacious opposition soon com- 
 pelled him to affirm, with increasing precision, the special 
 form which he gave to his protest, and over and over 
 again to vindicate its soundness. Of course, in doing this 
 he was liable to the danger of forgetting for his own part, — 
 
HIS DANGER AND DEFENCE. 403 
 
 while he concealed this from his hearers, — the supreme 
 importance of that heavenly faith which alone gave to his 
 dogmatical and ecclesiastical position its religious charac- 
 ter. He was in peril of assigning, whether to dogma 
 considered as such, or to matters external in ecclesiastical 
 economy, that place which belongs only to living faith, to 
 that reality of the heavenly life which will alone remain 
 after the imperfect manifestation with wliich we, in this 
 world, have invested it, either in our creeds or forms, sliall 
 have disappeared for ever. 
 
 To this danger my father would certainly have suc- 
 cumbed, had he been like other men — I mean, had he not 
 been one essentially different from and superior to others, 
 a true Christian. 
 
 On the other hand, if nothing in his life had betrayed 
 the presence of this danger, if nothing had occurred to 
 testify to weakness and inexperience, he would not have 
 been like other believers — in other words, he would have 
 been no longer one of those subject to error — called by us 
 not so much saints, as Christians. 
 
 It was that living faith — that eternal imperishable prin- 
 ciple — implanted by the sovereign power of the Holy 
 Ghost ; that everlasting life, so thoroughly established 
 within him — that secured him alike from narrowness of 
 spirit, no better than lifeless dogmatism, and from sterility 
 of soul which would have left him a fruitless sectarian. 
 To prove the first of these two points it will suflice to 
 appeal to the devoted energetic charity of his whole life ; 
 while as for the second, the facts to which we are now to 
 call attention will amply establish it. 
 
 The reader will remember the position my father as- 
 
404 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 sumed before 1830, with reference to the pretensions 
 which, because they admitted the divine institution of the 
 visible Church, made it necessary to find the model of that 
 Church, not so much in the virtues of the apostles, as in 
 their writings ; and this, with the avowed object of realis- 
 ing, in a visible form, the mystic union of true believers. 
 It will not have been forgotten with what precision and 
 clearness he had already expressed the right possessed by 
 each Church of believers to affirm openly its special and 
 distinctive individuality. Wliat he had to undergo in this 
 matter, so far from modifying, served only to strengthen 
 convictions which in him were, after all, nothing but the 
 natural result of innate superiority of thought and breadth 
 of sentiments. 
 
 In short, in my father's judgment, the Church, as the 
 visible Church, had but one absolute character with which 
 everything in it was required to consist — namely, that of 
 an assembly of believers, (Matt. xvi. 1 6-1 8.) Every other 
 characteristic which might chance to invest it, he regarded 
 simply as an accessory; as an earthly and fugitive thing ; to 
 wliich it would consequently be wrong to attach more 
 than a relative importance. From this, it will appear that 
 the ecclesiastical institution, in its historical form, had no 
 importance in his eyes, except in so far as he saw in it 
 the manifestation of that life produced in believers by God 
 Himself, through the instrumentality of their faith in His 
 Word. On the other hand, in thus considering the 
 Church in the world solely from this absolute, ideal, 
 eternal point of view, he confounded its origin entirely 
 with that of the spiritual life of the faithful, of which 
 it was in his eyes merely a manifestation. At the same 
 
ECCLESIASTICAL VIEJVS. 405 
 
 time (and this brings us to the point which, as we have 
 already seen, specially characterised his religious thought), 
 inasmuch as he never recognised faith apart from the 
 intelligible expression of it by the individual believer, the 
 only feature to which he attached any decisive importance 
 in his judgment of any Church, was the doctrine it be- 
 lieved, professed, and taught. 
 
 Everything else was in his eyes entirely human; freely 
 submitted to private judgment ; the importance of which 
 must vanish before the question of the presence or absence 
 of pure evangelical doctrine. Even those phases of the 
 historical life of Churches which appear, from time to 
 time, to exercise a direct influence on the development of 
 their religious life, even their interior organisation or their 
 attitude towards the civil power, were unimportant in his 
 eyes, except in so far as he saw involved the eternal in- 
 terests of the ideal, invisible, mystical Church constituted 
 within them, under the headship of the divine Saviour, by 
 faithful souls. Considered in themselves, these circum- 
 stances might serve to originate, in our Christian expe- 
 rience, decisions more or less precise, but no matter of 
 faith was involved in them, nothing which might claim to 
 have been dictated by a superior and infallible authority. 
 
 Such, in brief, was the conviction at the bottom of the 
 opinions he expressed on ecclesiastical matters ; while it 
 also determined his position with regard to the different 
 Churches. In this he was distinguished from the earlier 
 seceders before 1830, and this it was that he continued 
 to set forth from that time with increasing perspicuity in 
 his writings, and, more especially, in liis conduct. 
 
 And first, in his writings. It will be understood, after 
 
406 LIFE OF C^FSAB MALAN. 
 
 what has just been said, how it was that he published so 
 S];)aringly on the subject of the visible Church, its consti- 
 tution, and historical rights. I find little more than a 
 speech on this subject, in 1845, in a meeting assembled 
 at Lausanne, to maintain the essential independence of the 
 Church, with regard to the civil power. Even then he 
 justifies the part he took in the demonstration, solely on 
 his abstract idea of the mystic Church. What he aims at 
 upholding supremely is the spiritual liberty of the true 
 believer, whose faith he defines by what he deems the 
 only scriptural doctrine, the doctrine of free salvation, 
 resulting directly from the initiatory action of the sove- 
 reignty of God in Jesus Christ. As for whatever, in the 
 body ecclesiastical, has no immediate reference to this re- 
 ligious reality, or to its possession and profession ; as for 
 the historical rights of the Church, considered by them- 
 selves, he does not even pause to advert to them. 
 
 These principles which had already withheld him, be- 
 fore 1830, from sacrificing to mere external unity what he 
 regarded as faithfulness to his message, we subsequently 
 discover in the position he assumed towards various 
 foreign Churches, as well as in Geneva itself; and that, as 
 much with reference to the old National Church of his 
 country, as to the evangelical communion of which he 
 witnessed the origin in 1849. 
 
 And it showed itself especially after his visit to Scot- 
 land in 1843. While confining himself strictly to testify- 
 ing his sympathy with the true and faithful, without 
 distinction of sect, he disappointed the hopes of those of 
 his friends who had calculated on seeing him take part 
 openly with the Free Church, the rise of which had 
 
FREE CEURCHES. 407 
 
 produced so great a sensation. I append a few extracts 
 from a pamphlet lie felt called upon to publish on the 
 occasion* 
 
 After setting forth (in a preface addressed to the friend 
 who had asked him to write the tract in question), the 
 gratitude with which the brethren in Geneva had been 
 filled on hearing of what the Lord had just done for His 
 Church in Scotland, and their admiration at seeing so 
 many ministers of the Saviour resolving unanimously to 
 part with so much of what the world values, rather than 
 permit the invasion of what they esteemed the rights of 
 the Lord Jesus, — after adding that, as far as he was con- 
 cerned, it had been his wish to convey to the Free 
 Church, first by letter and then in person, a testimony of 
 S}Tnpathy and respect from his little congregation,— he re- 
 turns thanks to God that a gTcat number of true servants 
 of Christ had, nevertheless, held it to be their duty to 
 remain in the Establishment, and so maintain in it both 
 the preaching of the truth and those institutions which 
 are in harmony with the gospel, and the glory of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 At that very time, " while he sympathised witli a Church 
 which refused to submit to the control of the decisions 
 which the civil power felt called upon to make in matters 
 of spiritual economy," he foresaw that the disruption, 
 " distressing though it appeared in tlie eyes of the Na- 
 tional Church, was destined to be, in the liands of God, 
 a means of rekindling the zeal of many, and of spreading 
 abroad the AVord of Life in (piarters wlierc it had not 
 hitherto been preached." 
 
 * " A Yiait to Scotland iu 1S43." 
 
408 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 At the same time lie reminds his friend " that excite- 
 ment, together with political or material interests, might 
 very possibly have influenced more than one mind, and have 
 even been at the bottom, in more than one instance, of the 
 ready cession of temporalities." Eef erring to " the days 
 when the Lord Jesus alone, and without visible gain, 
 would present nothing but the cross to His faithful ones," 
 he adjures his brethren of the Free Church " to keep strict 
 watch over the purity of their doctrine." 
 
 "My visit to your country," he says, in conclusion, 
 " short though it has been, has been full of solace to my 
 own soul. I have enjoyed the society of many ministers 
 of Christ belonging to both Established and Free Churches. 
 I have actually discovered that there is no division in 
 Christ, and that it is the same Spirit Who is the Teacher 
 and Comforter of all the servants of the same Saviour. If 
 here and there I have witnessed passing exhibitions of a 
 tendency to judge, I have nevertheless observed uniformly 
 the triumph of charity over mere pers.onal satisfaction, and 
 the rights of Christ taking precedence over those of any 
 Church or any special discipKne." 
 
 He then describes the imposing scene, of which he had 
 been an eye-witness, at Glasgow, where he had been in- 
 vited to be present at the two first sessions of the General 
 Assembly of the Free Church. 
 
 In the subsequent pages he gives an analysis of his 
 sermons delivered at the time in different churches * 
 
 " My desire," he says, in giving an account of his first 
 
 * At Aberdeen, in the Free Church ; at Edinburgh, in Dr Candlish's 
 pulpit ; at the " Tabernacle " of J. Haldane, and elsewhere. He preached 
 also in French, in St Luke's Church. 
 
HEARERS AND DOERS. 409 
 
 sermon, preaclied in a Free Clmrcli, " was not so much 
 to speak of tlie power whicli our Lord possesses, as King 
 of His Church, but of the right which he has to the faith 
 and obedience of us all." liecalling the days of the Swiss 
 revival, " Numbers," he says, " were animated at that 
 time by carnal motives. While raising the cry, ' Liberty ! 
 Separation ! A Free Church ! ' they knew nothing either of 
 that conversion which can alone really emancipate, or of 
 that still small voice of the Spirit which is the teaching of 
 the Lord ; and hence they were soon offended. Trust not 
 then in human wisdom or strength ; do not be so bigoted 
 as to suppose that, because such and such ministers of 
 Christ do not go along with us, they are not serving Him. 
 Be not hasty to judge or to condemn. It is your charity 
 which will establish before God the proof of your sincerity, 
 and of the purity of your motives." 
 
 " It may happen (it happens frequently), that we deceive 
 ourselves as to ,our intentions ; and, while our hearts are 
 unrenewed, confess the gospel, or utter words of truth and 
 « soberness in mere compliance with the demands of our 
 reason. But, to follow the example of Christ, to cling to 
 His side in the presence of the world, carrying His cross 
 and His reproach, — here, Christian brethren, is a thing 
 in which there can be no deception. Obedience brings us 
 into contact with what alone is real ; and our submission 
 is the evidence of the truth of our devotion." 
 
 In another sermon I find these words : " If mysticism, if 
 a certain religious sentimentality, is the error to which 
 Christians are exposed in Germany, is it not true that 
 pride of understanding and an attempt to seek to fathom 
 God and His mysteries, threaten those in Scotland ? " 
 
410 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAN. 
 
 These extracts suffice to sliow the ground "which my 
 father occupied, and how little that veteran confessor 
 allowed himself to be affected in his testimony to eternal 
 salvation by the surrounding excitement of the move- 
 ment. 
 
 Decision and absolute clearness on the doctrine of con-, 
 version, as Avell as of the necessity of a new life in the 
 soul; breadth and toleration with reference to those 
 transient forms which the outward action of that life 
 might chance to assume — such were his characteristics ; 
 whilst, at the same time, he furnished abundant evidence 
 of an ever accessible heart, of an ever lively and ardent 
 enthusiasm with regard to whatever event seemed a har- 
 binger of better days for the diffusion of the heavenly mes- 
 sage, and for the eternal interests of the sj^iritual king- 
 dom of Jesus Christ. 
 
 But if this catholicity of spirit admitted of his thus 
 stretching out his hand as a Christian to all his brethren, 
 wherever he might meet them, it had its irremoveable 
 limits in what he termed the personal and special ministry # 
 entrusted to him, as he believed, in his capacity as an 
 officer in the Church, and a preacher. 
 
 Alread}^, before 1830, we saw that it was not merely the 
 ecclesiastical narrowness of the separatists, with whom he 
 had had to deal, that had prevented him from associating 
 his labours with theirs. This decision of his was equally 
 due to the importance he attached to what constituted, in 
 his eyes, " purity of doctrine." 
 
 It was this last motive which chiefly prevented him, 
 in 1849, from joining himself and his church with the 
 Free Church, set up at that time in Geneva, by the fusion 
 
A STRUGGLE. 411 
 
 of the two nonconibrniing bodies, the Oratory and the 
 Pelisserie (originally the Church of the Bourg de Four). 
 
 My father had much to endure on that occasion. Not 
 only had lie been compelled to endure the unjust accusa- 
 tions his conduct called forth ; not only did he hear men 
 whom he thoroughly honoured and loved, attributing his 
 decision to a proud and bigoted spirit ; but, to speak only 
 with reference to himself, it cost him mucli to abandon 
 a union which had been the dream of his whole life. iSTor 
 did he do it except from a feeling of duty. I myself was 
 abroad at the time, and my liither having written to ask 
 me what I thought about the matter, I set before him 
 all the reasons which led me strongly to desire that 
 he should reunite, as a minister in the Church, with 
 hi brethren in Geneva. ^Vhen I found that his mind was 
 by no means made up in the same direction, I gathered at 
 once that he had made a most painful sacrifice at the bid- 
 ding of conscientious scruples. Afterwards, wdien I had 
 had an opportunity of speaking to him on the subject, I 
 not only found that I had judged him rightly ; but I was 
 brought to see, moreover, why it had pleased God to lead him 
 thus to act. As for him, though suffering daily from the 
 isolation Avhich, from that time more than ever, cliatacterised 
 his position in the limited religious world of Geneva, he 
 never appeared to me to harbour, even for a single moment, 
 a thought of regret at the decision to which he had 
 come. 
 
 I append a letter which he wrote on that occasion to one 
 of my elder sisters. I give it almost entire, as it will save 
 me from going any further into detail ou this episode in 
 his life. 
 
412 LIFE OF CJESAE MALAN. 
 
 "Geneva, Feb. 2ith, 1849. 
 
 " You ask me for the motives wliicli have hitherto pre- 
 vented me from adhering to the plan of the new Church, 
 and I know no other than the fear I have lest, by joining 
 this fusion, I should seem to sanction what I consider 
 error. Here is my entire judgment in the matter. 
 
 " It has been customary to distinguish, in the truths of 
 the gospel, between those indispensable to salvation, and 
 therefore described as essential, and those which scarcely 
 appear to have a direct bearing upon it, and which are 
 therefore called secondary. But, among these, I think 
 that a minister of the gospel, charged with guarding the 
 deposit, and even with teaching the observance of ' the 
 least commandments,' (Tim. vi. 20; Matt. v. 10), cannot 
 draw an absolute line, and say, of such or such a point, 
 that it ought to be waived, seeing that this point is pre- 
 cisely one which, some time or other, he may have to con- 
 tend for with the utmost vigour. Therefore, if I feel my 
 heart overflowing with toleration for those of my brethren, 
 Baptists or Chiliasts,* or whatever else they may be, and 
 if I can join in prayer and holy communion with them, 
 this by no means involves acquiescence in their errors. 
 Such being my conviction, I can easily contract a union 
 with different Churehes of believers, and so maintain with 
 them hearty and active relations through mutual faith in 
 the Saviour, and mutual love. But a fusion I could not 
 form ; in other words, a confusion, if I saw in them the 
 errors I have pointed out, or some other doctrine which 
 might appear to me to be opposed to the divine truth and 
 
 * These two tendencies were numerously represented among the elements 
 which composed the new Church. 
 
LETTER TO HIS DAUGUTER. 413 
 
 government. I should be afraid, in tliiis fusing the minis- 
 try of the unadulterated word witli error, on the one 
 hand, of being faithless to my trust as a minister ; on the 
 other, of furnishing a support, a seeming sanction, to that 
 error. 
 
 " Certainly if, in the arrangement just carried out, I 
 could have detected simple jealousy for the truth, I would 
 have hastened to subscribe to it. I, who, as you know 
 and have seen, for more than twenty-five years, have never 
 had in view any other ecclesiasical scheme than the union 
 of the different communions in one vast Presbyterian 
 Church, in which, the flocks remaining distinct, should 
 keep their individual liberty, their special idiosyncrasies, 
 especially in the matter of Church government." 
 
 After statinfy hoAV advantag^eous this fusion would have 
 been to him in his sphere of action, and even as regarded 
 his social position in the religious world of Geneva, 
 " What of all that," he exclaims, " when compared with 
 the fidelity I owe to what I deem my duty as a minister 
 of Christ ; what of temporal advantages, and the approval 
 of my brethren, when purchased at the cost of my peace 
 of conscience as a servant in the presence of his master ; 
 what appertains to me is too precarious to "be, for a 
 moment, considered, and, in fact, I never even thought of 
 it. No motive have I had, known to myself at least, 
 springing either from wounded self-love, or despised dignity. 
 Such a feeling I never entertained. No, my dear child, I 
 have been actuated simply in tlic way I liave explained, 
 and if God were to show me tliat I have been mistaken in 
 that (a thing whicli I cannot imagine). He would give me 
 a different view of my duty from that which I have desired 
 
414 LIFE OF C^SAFv MALAN. 
 
 to clierisli. I am His servant, and I wish to do only what 
 the Lord commands. 
 
 " You can enter into all my sufferings, of every kind ; 
 from without and from within. My flock has almost 
 entirely deserted me, and, from all sides, I experience 
 censure and reproach. But what can I do to arrest these 
 evils, since I cannot swerve in anything from what I 
 "believe to be the right of God." 
 
 rive years after that letter was written, in 1854, he 
 made a spontaneous overture to be admitted into the 
 Evangelical Church, preserving, at the same time, his 
 character of minister, and of special pastor over those who 
 still followed him. But that idea of a confederation of free 
 elements, in which each was to preserve its own individu- 
 ality, an idea which he had always entertained, and which 
 he delighted to express by the words, "fusion, confusion, 
 union, commimion," was no better understood then than it 
 had been in 1849. The strong desire was entertained 
 to constitute a body, in the presence of the National 
 Church, which was to be influential by the unity of its 
 career and the numbers of its adherents. AVith this 
 object in view, it was clearly inexpedient to take in one 
 so independent in character as my father, while regret 
 could scarcely be felt at the absence of the few people 
 who still adhered to him. 
 
 It will be evident from all this that the isolated position 
 which he occupied as regards the other Churches of the 
 revival, was not the result of wliat had been a mere 
 personal feeling with him, but had been dictated by his 
 conscientious view of a precise duty. This is further 
 evident from the manner in which, in 1855, he defined 
 
POSITION OF HIS CIIUnCIL 415 
 
 publicly the position occupied by liis little Churcli with 
 reference to the National Church of Geneva, as well as 
 from the nature of his action towards the latter com- 
 munion at the time of which we are now speaking. 
 
 On the occasion of a declaration which emanated from 
 the Grand Council in 1855, "that the only reason which 
 dissenting Churches had for their existence was their mere 
 negative opposition to the National Church," he took up 
 the subject in a tract, entitled " The Church of Testimony 
 in its relations, as regards doctrine and discipline, with the 
 ancient Church of Geneva." 
 
 Having briefly referred to the origin of his church, he 
 lays it down that the sole reason for its existence is 
 founded in the preaching of the orthodox doctrine of the 
 Eeformed Churches, and the maintenance of their ancient 
 discipline. So far from being, in consequence, opposed to 
 the true National Church of Geneva, it aspired the rather, 
 in its limited sphere, solely to revive the old doctrines and 
 old life of that Church. He then concludes his exposition 
 of the doctrine and discipline of his Church, by saying, 
 "that if they were actually dissenters, they were not 
 separatists." 
 
 But it was not merely by the abstract declaration of liis 
 ecclesiastical principles that he manifested towards the 
 National Establishment such a breadth and superiority of 
 view, as to draw down upon him, from many of his 
 brethren, the charge of ecclesiastical indifference. It is 
 all the more important to point out the fiicts, to whicli I am 
 now referring, since he has been perpetually accused by 
 the national party itself, of having been actuated only by 
 a feeling of animosity towards the Church from which he 
 
416 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 had seceeded, and of having done all in his power to injure 
 it ahroad. There is evidently some misconception here. 
 It is not for me to inquire how far the National Church 
 could be calumniated abroad. What I afi&rm is, that 
 my father never did so, unless, indeed, by the loyal and 
 open opposition which he manifested, (whenever he was 
 called upon to do so), towards those negative tendencies 
 which had obtained among the clergy of that Church, and 
 in the name of which they had compelled him to detach 
 his labours from theirs. And now for the facts referred 
 to. 
 
 It is well known how far the subject of a separation 
 between the Church and State had succeeded, about 1842, 
 in occupying the attention of all parties. In the Canton 
 de Vaud, Yinet had extensively agitated it, and even in 
 Geneva it had been the theme of public discussions, on the 
 occasion of the elections for the Constituent Assembly in 
 1842, as w^ell as in the very bosom of the Assembly itself.* 
 AVhen the question of the choice of deputies came up, that 
 point had figured in the very front of the prograronie of 
 the different candidates. 
 
 As my father knew that many of his brethren would 
 stand aloof, he asked me what I thought of doing ; espe- 
 cially with reference to the question of the Church. I 
 replied, that whatever might be the opinion required as 
 to the theological doctrines professed in the National 
 Church, that institution did not the less appear to me, at 
 that crisis, a providential barrier against the rising tide 
 of ultra-montanism, and that from that point of view 
 it seemed to me to be incumbent on every friend of the 
 
 * See also De Goltz, " Genbve Religieuse," p. 3iO, ct scq. 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
THE CHAMPION OF THE CHURCH. 417 
 
 country, and of liberty to maintain it. ]\Iy father told me 
 that such was his judgment in the matter, and we went 
 together to drop our votes into the ballot-box. 
 
 I remember that, as we were returning, we met one of 
 the first representatives of the evangelical party in Geneva, 
 who, so far from sympathising with our views, expressed 
 himself as greatly surprised at the course we had taken, 
 assuring us that we were probably the only dissenters who 
 had voted in the same way. 
 
 The state of thino-s inaugurated in 1842 havinsj been 
 subverted in 184G, the same question came up again in 
 1847 in a more urgent manner. Indeed, everything com- 
 bined to awaken the gravest fears for the National Church, 
 and to strengthen the conviction that the point then to be 
 mooted was no mere modification of the relation hitherto 
 subsisting between it and the civil j)Ower, but involved its 
 very existence. It was on this occasion that, in the teetli 
 of the aspirations of an evangelical section wliicli appeared 
 to hail, in the overthrow of the National Church, the 
 advent of a new era, my father issued a three-paged tract, 
 entitled, " Eemove not the ancient landmarks which thy 
 fathers have placed," (Prov. xxii. 28.) Commencing by 
 quoting the beautiful and resolute address which tlie 
 " company of pastors " had just issued to tlie grand council, 
 setting forth " that they could not die who had with them 
 the power which God bestows," he refers to his " Declaration 
 of Fidelity to the Church of Geneva," published twenty-six 
 years before. " In separating at that time from an unfUilhful 
 communion," he says, " neither he nor his brethren dreamt 
 of opposing that ancient Protestant Church of Geneva, 
 
 which God Himself had planted among them as a barrier 
 
 2d 
 
418 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAN. 
 
 ac^ainst the encroacliments of Eomanism." GivinGf full 
 scope to the ardour of his patriotic sentiments, and his 
 feelings as " an old Protestant," he conjures up before him, 
 phantom-like, the idea of the final destruction of that 
 ancient bulwark of liberty and evangelical truth, known as 
 Genevese Protestantism. " Separate Church and State," 
 he cries, " if the State is weary of the Union. Give her 
 back her symbols and standards if she has been rifled of 
 them. Eestore to its proud place of honour in her midst 
 the teaching of the Word, if she has been reft of her 
 dignity ! Do this, and all, — yes, all true Protestants — I 
 mean, all Christians — will rejoice ; but have a care not to 
 remove the ancient landmarks, and, under a show of liberal- 
 ism, to take away from Geneva what alone has rendered 
 her liberal, if indeed we are to understand by this word 
 what the Bible calls true liberty, — given and maintained by 
 truth, the gospel, and the Christian faith." He goes on to 
 entreat his fellow-citizens, " instead of meditating the de- 
 struction of the Church of Geneva, to strengthen it, on the 
 contrary, by reminding it of all that it was, and all it 
 ought once again to become." 
 
 This little tract made a considerable impression at the 
 time. Not only did it find an echo among a people whose 
 patriotism is so easily stirred up, by appealing to the 
 memory of their past, but it helped to remove more than 
 one prejudice against its autlior. The majority of his 
 contemporaries, in fact, having ceased for many years to 
 hold any communication with him, though seeing him 
 daily, had accustomed themselves to judge him by hear- 
 say, and had mistaken his dogmatic opposition for what 
 w^ould have been mere party hostility and sectarian rancour. 
 
" CLIFFS, RENT ASUKDEIl" 419 
 
 For myself, I lay all the more stress on this exhibition of 
 what I may best caU his ecclesiastical and religious patriot- 
 ism, inasmuch as it appeared just after he had experienced 
 a fresh proof of the implacable hatred entertained towards 
 him in that very Church whose ancient and glorious memo- 
 ries he so glowingly recaUs. That animosity had, indeed 
 gone so far as to assume the appearance of personal aver- 
 sion, and to make its way under the disguise of indirect 
 anonymous denunciations. 
 
 Let me refer here to a letter, addressed by one of the 
 influential members of the National Church of Geneva to 
 one of the first pastors of Holland, immediately after my 
 father's missionary tour in that country, in 1842 durin^ 
 which, as will be remembered, he was everywhere received 
 with respect. That letter, which was circulated throu<Th 
 the Dutch Churches, aroused deep indignation. It was 
 sent at once to my father, who had hitherto regarded its 
 author (one of his old scliool-feUows), as a man on whose 
 personal sentiments he could safely rely. He oave him 
 the letter himself, imploring him, in the name'of trutli 
 and of their old relations to eacli other, to spare him the 
 necessity of a reply. His "friend," however, met all his 
 entreaties with absolute silence. I remember well his 
 return from the interview. Pale, and deeply moved, he 
 said to my mother, as he entered the house, "I have lost 
 an old friend to-day." It was not till then that he wrote 
 to the ecclesiastic in Holland his reply to the dishonour- 
 able epistle he had received through his hands. Both 
 letters were forthwith pubUshcd in Holland.* "AVe 
 
420 LIFE OF CJSSAE MALAN. 
 
 abstain from all comments at this point," so we read 
 in a preface to the reader, "leaving the publication of 
 the truth in the hands of our great God and Saviour, 
 Jesus Christ, the King Eternal, Who knows how to 
 avenge all iniquity, and to punish falsehood and calumny, 
 whatever be the name or title of their authors." 
 
 It is needless to add that these libellous personalities, 
 were it only for their virulence, were powerless to injure 
 any but the man who had been capable of uttering 
 them. 
 
 As for the manner in which my father resented the 
 outrage, I will content myself with saying that I found 
 after his death, at the bottom of a cupboard, a packet 
 enclosing a few copies of the publication, the title of 
 which is given in the note, which had been sent him for 
 distribution. It remained in the state in which he had 
 received it twenty years before, and I read then for the 
 first time the letter of his "friend" in Geneva. He did 
 not content himself, however, with estimating such 
 attacks at their proper value. While they pained him 
 deeply every time tliey occurred, they never left in him 
 the slightest trace of bitterness, either against the persons, 
 or parties themselves. AVe have just had a proof of this ; 
 what I am now going to relate will furnish evidence still 
 more striking. 
 
 It was in 1853, after his last visit to Scotland, one of 
 the principal preachers of the Free Church in Edinburgh 
 having refused to allow him to preach in his chapel 
 because he would not pledge himself to abstain from 
 preaching in Established churches, several other Free 
 Church ministers came forward at once and offered him 
 
THE SCOTCH CHURCH. 421 
 
 tlieir pulpits, so that lie realised his wish of being able to 
 exercise his ministry in both communions. In a very 
 numerous oatherini,^ of the Xational Church, when he was 
 asked to say a few words on the state of religion on the 
 continent, he delivered an address, a few extracts from 
 which I will insert in this place. 
 
 After remindino; his hearers that their Church, the 
 National Church of Scotland, though originally a daughter 
 of the Church of Geneva, had declined to send a de- 
 putation to their jubilee, in consequence of the position 
 assumed by the latter towards the evangelical revival, he 
 assured tbeni that he was delighted to seize the oppor- 
 tunity of declaring publicly to the faithful in Scotland — to 
 those Christians who had given him such a brotherly 
 welcome, at a time when, thirty years ago, he was being 
 persecuted by the clergy of the Church of Geneva, and 
 compelled to separate himself from that Church — that it 
 had pleased God to bring thitlier again the preaching of 
 the pure gospel which, said he, "is now making itself 
 heard with more power and clearness than had marked 
 the discourses for which he had been suspended." Ho 
 invited them, moreover, to rejoice with liim at wliat 
 God Himself had wrought in drawing out their sympathies 
 to that ancient Church which their fathers had revered, 
 and, above all, in encompassing it with their prayers, that 
 it might be upheld in its onward career. 
 
 This explicit address, supported by numerous facts, pro- 
 duced a great sensation in Scotland. A desire was ex- 
 pressed in many quarters that the wishes my fatlier had 
 thus puldicly uttered might soon be reab'sed, and friendly 
 relations re-establislied between tlie national Churclies of 
 
422 LIFE OF C.^SAB MALAK 
 
 Scotland and Geneva. The sudden feeling^, however, was 
 arrested as soon as started, by letters written from Geneva, 
 and published in the organ of the Free Church in Edin- 
 burgh — letters which tended to destroy the impression 
 produced by the testimony just given. 
 
 The cause was still there. When on a visit to Edinburgh 
 three years afterwards, I happened to hear the facts I have 
 just mentioned. I went immediately to the Moderator of 
 the General Assembly, who, after having heard what I had 
 to say, encouraged me to resume the good work which my 
 father had commenced. The Moderator of the Company 
 of Pastors in Geneva, Pastor Duby, having furnished me, 
 at my request, with some specific details as to the evan- 
 gelical preaching in the Church over which he presided, I 
 handed over the papers, accompanied by a statement in my 
 handwriting, to a relative. Sheriff Arkley, lay deputy to 
 the General Assembly. A letter addressed by him to the 
 President of the Committee, intrusted with the communi- 
 cations with Foreign Churches, was read, in May 1857, in 
 the Assembly itself Thereupon that body charged the 
 Committee to write to the JSTational Church of Geneva in 
 the spirit of the conclusions adopted by ^Ir Arkley, which 
 were based again on the public testimony given by my 
 father in 1853. The next year these letters were sent to 
 the President of the Consistory of Geneva, and from that 
 time there was no further obstacle to the existence of 
 friendly relations between the two Churches. Thus, my 
 father had the satisfaction of witnessing the triumph of 
 his efforts, which he had commenced with such thorougli 
 Christian heartiness. Facts like these are ample testimony 
 
RESTORATION TO THE ESTABLISHMENT. 423 
 
 to tlie emptiness of tlie accusations referred to above, and 
 for tliat reason tliey are quoted here * 
 
 It was not for liini to decide whether he should re- 
 enter the Church of Geneva, not, indeed, as a pastor, 
 which he never contemplated, and which his principles, 
 with reference to Church discipline, would have absolutely 
 prohibited, but to exercise his ministry as a preacher of the 
 gospel, I allude here not merely to the protests which he 
 never ceased to make against the inhibition with which the 
 established clergy had visited him, but to the circum- 
 stances which occurred at the close of his life in 1859 and 
 1861, and with wliicli I will conclude my account of his 
 ecclesiastical relations. 
 
 The period was 1859. For a long time the friends my 
 father had acquired among the national clergy of Geneva 
 had arrived at the conclusion that there was no further 
 obstacle in the way of his realising a wish he had always 
 cherished of preaching once more, as minister of the gospel, 
 in those pulpits which had only been closed to him by the 
 "Eeglement" of May 1817, which "Eeglement," as a 
 matter of fact, after becoming practically obsolete, had been 
 repudiated by the Church itself on the occasion of the 
 Jubilee in 1835.-f" Whilst some desired to see this brought 
 about, simply from regard for an old man who was regarded 
 with general esteem; whilst others thought that it was 
 
 * My Scotch readers may possilily be interested in knowing; that the pre- 
 ceding narrative having been sent by me a year ago to my lamented brother- 
 in-law, Sheriff Arkley, met Avith his full approval. 
 
 f Publicly, if not olficially, and in an answer given by the President of 
 the Solemnity, speaking in his official character, to a (piery put to him on 
 the subject by deputations from several churches. 
 
424 LIFE OF C^FSAE MALAK 
 
 time tliat liis capacity of minister of the gospel, which no 
 one out of Geneva had ever dreamt of challenging, and 
 which, even in Geneva itself, was universally accorded to 
 him in personal intercourse, should be recognised in an 
 ofificial and public manner, it was their wish that after it 
 had been stated how the exercise of the ministerial office 
 had been unjustly denied him by the ruling section of the 
 Church at a particular period, the history of Geneva might 
 be able to furnish evidence, through subsequent transac- 
 tions, that that act of injustice had been repudiated. 
 
 The men who cherished these sentiments were the true 
 and sincere friends of our National Church, and I was re- 
 quested to communicate to my father the wish they enter- 
 tained. I see him now, at the moment when I convinced 
 him that a serious possibility was involved in the question. 
 The old man's eye flashed with sudden light, soon dimmed 
 by the presence of deep emotion. After looking at me for an 
 instant in silence, " Is it possible !" exclaimed the venerable 
 servant of the old Church of Geneva, the Church of con- 
 fessors and refugees, the Church of Calvin — " Is it possible 
 that I may preach again in St Peter's * before I go into the 
 presence of my God ?" 
 
 At the same time, everything depended on the Consis- 
 tory ; and consequently, as is always the case where de- 
 liberative assemblies are concerned, especially when such 
 assemblies have as yet no abundant tradition of precedents 
 behind them, everything depended on the way in which 
 the Consistory was to be secured in the matter.-|- 
 
 * The Cathedral Church of Geneva. 
 
 f "Owing to a recent change, to which we have already alluded, the 
 highest administration of the Protestant Church had been transferred a 
 
vv 
 
 THE QUESTION FALLS THROUGIL 425 
 
 IMeanwliile, a preaclier of the National Churcli, whom 
 my father, then in the country, went to hear from time to 
 time, requested him to occupy his pulpit. Having under- 
 stood him to say that he was ready to comply, the preacher 
 entered upon certain proceedings with the Consistory in 
 May 1859, which he deemed requisite before feeling him- 
 self at liberty to place his pulpit at my father's disposal. 
 Tlie Consistory, on a precognition w^hich they demanded 
 from the Company of Pastors, resolved to set aside the 
 prayer addressed to them, on the ground that it w^as neces- 
 sary first that my father should withdraw the lett' r in 
 which he had declared himself, in 1823, to be no longer 
 desirous to remain in the National Church. Thereupon 
 the author of the prayer forebore to insist upon it ; and my 
 father, seeinc^ that no further reference was bein«^ made to 
 the matter, by degi^ees regarded it as at an end. 
 
 It was only tw^o years afterwards, in 1861, in reply to a 
 letter in which the same pastor referred to what has just 
 been stated, he wrote a reply, an extract of which I proceed 
 to furnish : — 
 
 " VANDasuVRES, 19th Aujust, 1801. 
 
 " Dear and Honoured Brother, — ... To refer simply 
 to the demand that I should withdraw my letter to the 
 Council of State (14th August 1823), before the Consistory 
 could even entertain the idea of re-admitting me into the 
 national pulpit in our Canton ; I cannot tell you liow much 
 that clause distresses me, since it declares, what I was far 
 from supposing, that the National Church of our country, 
 at least among those who govern it, holds the same opinions 
 
 few years previously, from the 'YeneraLlc Compagnie' of the pastors, to a 
 'Consistory,' consisting principally of laymen." 
 
426 LIFE OF CyFSAB MALAK 
 
 which it held more than forty years ago, when it drove 
 from its pnlpits the orthodox ministers of Geneva. 
 
 "... For me to withdraw now my declaration of the 
 14th of August 1823, it would be necessary first for the 
 Consistory to give me to understand that it, for its part, 
 withdraws what caused me to retire from the E'ational 
 Church of Geneva. 
 
 '' My protest will fall to the ground of itself as soon as 
 the cause which elicited it shall cease to exist. . . . ]May 
 it please God to bring this about ! . . . I wait for it with 
 the most fervent desire, . . . rejecting even the thought 
 that I, a minister of the Lord Jesus, could have withdrawn 
 from a Church faithful to the Son of God." The letter 
 closes by permission to his correspondent to publish it if 
 he chooses. 
 
 A note in his handwriting, dated loth of May 1859, 
 shows even more clearly the precise character of his wishes. 
 The same friend, having told him that he ought to address 
 a personal and direct request to the Consistory : " I have 
 replied," he writes, " that I by no means seek admission 
 into the ISTational Church of Geneva, but permission only 
 to exercise my ministry in the State of Geneva ; in other 
 words, to preach the gospel, without opposition, in any 
 pulpit which may be offered to me." 
 
 We should much prefer seeing in all this nothing more 
 than a misunderstanding. My father had in view simply 
 the sole rights of the evangelical ministry, rights which 
 the Church of Geneva had never hesitated to recognise as 
 pertaining to any ecclesiastic who, without being within 
 its jurisdiction, was accepted as such by any of the Pro- 
 testant Churches. The Consistory, on the other hand, 
 
THE COXSISTORY IX DIFFICULTIES. 427 
 
 failing to mark the distinction between the vindication of 
 their rights, and of the rights which appertained exclu- 
 sively to the ministers of the National Church, — concerned 
 itself only with the latter. The fault, however, seems not 
 to have been chargeable to the Consistory itself, \\'hich 
 perhaps could only take into consideration the question of 
 the readmission of my father into the ranks of the national 
 clergy. 
 
 However that may be, it is plain that the reply of the 
 Consistory to the demand addressed to it could only be 
 regarded by my father as a veiled refusal, and that he 
 could not meet it otherwise than he did. In fact, his letter 
 to the Council of State, of which the Consistory demanded 
 the previous withdrawal, had been the consequence and 
 not the cause of the interdiction from ministering which 
 had been issued several years before. ^lore than this, that 
 interdict had been based solely on my father's refusal to 
 submit to the " rtcglement" of J^lay 1817, which had for 
 so many years ceased to be quotable as liaving the force of 
 law in the Church of Geneva, so that the Consistory could 
 not possibly have had it in view. The only thing on 
 whicli it could rely, therefore, was tliat unfortunate deci- 
 sion by which the " Venerable Assembly," exceeding, as we 
 have seen, the powers of a Protestant tribunal, had gone so 
 far as to perpetuate, by means of a simple administrative 
 arrest, an act of sacerdotal supremacy, in declaring, ^^•ith- 
 out discussion, and in the most absolute way, tliat " .MaLin 
 was deprived of his holy orders." 
 
 In the presence of this fact, it is evident tliat tlie Con- 
 sistory could not at least, without committing the same 
 fault that we have laid to the charge of the " A'cnerable 
 
428 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 Company," annul officially this illusory and illegal decree 
 of deposition from the sacred ministry by one of restora- 
 tion, which would have been open to the same exception, 
 From the moment its attention was drawn to this first 
 decree, it had no alternative except to invite my father, at 
 his own positive request, to accept a second ordination at 
 the hands of the "Company of Pastors." Evidently, to 
 such a step as this he never gave a thought. It would 
 therefore, we believe, have been much better to have 
 regarded this decree as having been in excess of the legal 
 powers of the ecclesiastical administration to which it 
 had succeeded, and to have utterly ignored it. 
 
 From that time, in view of the fact that the interdiction 
 w^hich had been pronounced against my father was vir- 
 tually annulled by the withdrawal of the " Eeglement " 
 which had occasioned it, evidently the only reply to make 
 to his friend was that there was no conceivable reason why 
 a pastor of the Church of Geneva should not admit Dr 
 Malan into his pulpit as a minister of the holy gospel. 
 
 The Consistory was all the more favourably situated 
 with reference to the question from the circumstance that 
 it not only had before it the official acts connected with 
 the readmission of the minister Bost into the IS'ational 
 Church, in which the questions at issue were clearly dis- 
 cussed, but also that it was regarded universally as having 
 inaugurated, in the history of that Church, a new era of 
 life and liberty. 
 
 It cannot but be regretted that, under these circum- 
 stances, no pastor of the National Church ventured to 
 invite my father's services. Such a step would have vir- 
 tually annihilated a " suspensio a divinis," the grounds of 
 
GENERAL VIEW, 429 
 
 wliicli liaJ no longer weight witli any one. We tliink 
 such a course would have tended to the glory of God, and 
 that such a man would liave deserved well of his Churcli. 
 If, liowever, it had been deemed desirable to carry 
 the matter before tlie ecclesiastical authorities, it w^ould 
 have been necessary that one perfectly versed in the 
 facts, and with no personal interests in the discussion, 
 should have taken the matter in hand. Everything 
 inclines to the belief that, if a proposal, based upon the 
 considerations now alleged, had been laid before the Con- 
 sistory in proper form, that body would have seized the 
 opportunity of closing a long open wound. It would thus 
 have accomplished in our judgment a great act of justice, 
 and, in the interest of the liistory of the Church, whose 
 progress it directed, a Cliurch which still wears the vene- 
 rated name of the ancient Church of our fathers, it is cer- 
 tainly to be regretted that this was not the case. 
 
 \ 
 
CHAPTEE HI. 
 
 EVENIXG, AND CLOSE OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 * ' Abide with me when night is nigh, 
 For without Thee I cannot die ! " 
 
 The foregoing chapter has already introduced ns into this 
 last stage of my father's life, of which it now remains for 
 me to recall the beautiful and affecting remembrance. The 
 close of his career was, in fact, protracted, and, in some 
 respects, painful. To the brilliancy and activity of his 
 youth succeeded early those years of which the wise man 
 says, " that there is no pleasure in them ; " years in which, 
 in an isolation continually more and more marked, he had 
 also to experience, occasionally, straitened circmnstances, 
 and continual and prolonged bodily sufferings. 
 
 As we have already seen, he had omitted no effort to 
 give his numerous family as careful and complete an 
 education as possible. Himself, keenly conscious of the 
 species of solitude to which they were reduced, he set to 
 work to remedy it by every means in his power; whether 
 by fostering the development of what seemed to him their 
 
DECLINE. 431 
 
 talents and tastes, or by according them, within the 
 domestic limits, whatever pleasure and relaxation com- 
 ported with his principles and his means. 
 
 But, in all this, he only followed the dictates of his 
 fatherly heart. Hence, when he had completed the 
 education of his large family, and, at his advanced age, 
 could no longer take boarders, he found himself reduced 
 to a position which would never have been suspected by 
 those Avho judged of his circumstances only by what they 
 had seen him do for his children. 
 
 At the same time there appeared in him, at a very early 
 period, symptoms of a disease which, if it does not at once 
 reach the vital parts, affects no less the centre of the 
 bodily strength, and even the mental energy. In his 
 case, meanwhile, the disease assumed a special character. 
 Whilst, generally, the physical weakness, which is one of 
 its most distressing features, not only shakes the soundest 
 temperaments, but calls out, even in the kindliest and hap- 
 piest characters, discontent, murmuring, and rebellion, — this 
 was never the case with him. For a long time we were 
 unacquainted with his sufferings, and, when we came to 
 understand them, we were amazed to see how far, in spite 
 of them, and of the nervous unrest which resulted from his 
 complaint, his force of will and entire self-forgetfulness 
 triumphed. Here, however, were virtues which he had 
 practised all his life. I remember when I was a young 
 man discovering, accidentally, that he was obliged to look 
 closely to his expenditure, and that he allowed me then 
 to speak to him about it. After a brief discussion, he 
 recommended me to take no more notice of the matter, 
 and, above all, not to mention it to my mother : " These 
 
432 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 are things," lie said, "with which I had rather not 
 trouble your dear mother, she must not know anything 
 about them. As for me, my dear boy, I have felt for a long 
 time that the silver and the gold belong to my God and 
 heavenly Father, and that He will never suffer us to want 
 wdiat is needful." 
 
 But while his faith remained so strong that, instead of 
 seeking to disturb those around him, he continued constant 
 to his old practice of concerning himself especially with 
 making every exertion for them, his suffering was none the 
 less evident to all of us. The visits of strangers, who were 
 perpetually coming to see and hear him, and even of 
 his best friends, instead of proving a source of recreation 
 and interest, as they once did, had begun to weary him. 
 The cramps in his stomach, from which he had always 
 suffered, w^ere now combined with headache, which de- 
 prived him of rest, and soon loud buzzings in his ears 
 very often took away his sleep. 
 
 Under these circumstances it was not strange to find him 
 sometimes smarting too sensibly, perhaps, under a sense of 
 his isolated position in Geneva. ISTot that his intercourse 
 with his brethren of the evangelical party was ever devoid 
 of mutual respect, or that he was not asked from time to 
 time to speak in their places of worship, but only on excep- 
 tional and very rare occasions. If the old man — worn out 
 with the sufferings of age, and the deceptions by which 
 ardent and confiding natures will ever be weighed down — 
 exaggerated a little, perhaps, the extent of his annoyances, 
 it is not the less true, for all that, that he experienced 
 mortification in his old age so intense and profound as 
 could be fully described to God alone, by him who w^as 
 
PASSED BY. 433 
 
 called upon to endure tliem. JSTor were tliey altogether 
 without adequate cause. He heard men whose efforts 
 had long ago been anticipated by himself, who had even 
 at the time hailed him with acclamation, who had only 
 walked in the path cleared up for them by his courage 
 and devotion, — boast publicly, amid the applause of their 
 friends, that " they had been the first to wave in Geneva 
 the banner of orthodoxy." Thus he not only found him- 
 self withdrawn from the efforts of his youth, but he saw 
 others enter into his labour, and parade it as theirs under 
 his very eyes, while they impressed upon it a character 
 totally alien to his sympathies. He received from officious 
 sources copies of such of his own works as had appeared 
 anonymously, which were sent to him as models to 
 follow, and as a criticism on those which he had issued 
 with his name attached. At the gatherings, to which his 
 brotherly spirit was for ever taking him, he heard his own 
 hymns sung to strange, and often ill-chosen airs, altered, 
 too, occasionally, by unskilful hands. He saw himself, if 
 not put aside, at least left aside, by men whose opening 
 career he had followed, if not guided, with interest. In a 
 word, liis great soul had to submit in silence, year after 
 year, to the sacrifice of personal feeling, as well as to that 
 general desertion by wdiich it pleases God that the even- 
 ing of His beloved ones should be accompanied after their 
 day of action and energy is over, and by means of which, 
 in His wisdom and love. He is wont to ripen for glory 
 those strong and generous spirits whom He had at one 
 time appointed to be head over their brethren. 
 
 And this gracious purpose He commenced, by revealing 
 it to His servant. Lamenting with my father one day tliat 
 
434 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 the path he had to traverse was so arduous, he replied, 
 " Yes, it is painful ; but then it is God Who has bid me 
 walk in it, and He has excellent reasons for doing so. 
 When I was young and strong, I was a hammer of iron, 
 which His mighty hand made use of to break up the 
 stones. Now it is still His work ; it is still His fatherly 
 hand which, after having handled me for use on others, 
 is forging me for myself." 
 
 Thus it was that his faith in God kept him from being 
 irritated or beaten down. Thus, as we have seen, in con- 
 nection with his literary activity, his latter years were, in 
 this respect, his most productive. As for his private life, 
 it was cheered by the news he received of his numerous 
 absent children, and by an active correspondence with 
 Foreign Churches and the leaders of the evangelical move- 
 ment ; while through all his dejection might be seen, side 
 by side with the remains of an ever manly energy, the 
 constancy of a faith which became each day more simple 
 and touching. 
 
 His thoughts dwelt also, the older he grew, on the 
 memories of his childhood. "Alas," he wrote, in 1843, to 
 his mother's eldest sister, who was living abroad, " Clave- 
 liere is almost in ruins. The linden- tree and the great fir- 
 tree have both been cut down. They have knocked down 
 the clock wing, and changed the old porch. The fashion 
 of this world passeth away ; God seeks to turn our thoughts 
 to that which passeth not away." 
 
 We have seen the effects of my brother Jocelyn's death 
 upon him, in 1 846 ; and how, in 1 848, he had to close the 
 eyes of his gentle and pious mother, " after having had the 
 privilege of remaining incessantly with her," — so I read in 
 
DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. ^ 435 
 
 some notes of which she is the subject, — " during the five 
 months that she was confined to her bed." 
 
 "Everything goes on here/' he wTites to my mother, 
 " like the "lacier which looks as if it never chanc^ed its 
 place, though it glides on every day with an irresistible 
 motion. My good mother is so very pale and cold." After 
 saying how the old lady had prayed " God bless thee," 
 accompanying the exclamation with some one of the en- 
 dearing terms with which she had been accustomed to 
 address him in his childhood, he adds, " Alas, she '11 soon 
 be unable to utter even that below; but what endless 
 things her soul w^ill utter in heaven, where our glorified 
 Jocelyn already is ! " 
 
 " I have lost her," he writes in another place, " who 
 was, for sixty years, my earliest and my constant friend 
 and benefactress." 
 
 It was at this time especially that he began to appear 
 depressed and dejected — his elasticity gone. " I find myself 
 much as I was in 1819," we read in his Church journal for 
 1849, at the time when he saw the remainder of his little 
 congregation showing symptoms of an intention to desert 
 him and join the new Evangelical Church. From that 
 time, he began to feel himself no longer happy at Prc-Beni. 
 On the removal of the fortifications, the town liad been 
 extended. The gardens which had suiTounded liis dwell- 
 ing changed rapidly into noisy suburbs, and liigli houses 
 looked down on all sides over a spot wliich till then 
 had been a shadowed and secluded solitude. After 
 having married two of my sisters to foreign husbands, 
 on the same day, he found the house too big for him and 
 my mother, and the garden too deserted. Moreover, his 
 
436 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAK 
 
 writings were no longer eagerly caught up ; new voices 
 were heard instead of his. With all the deference paid to 
 his name, it was with difi&culty that he could get his articles 
 inserted in the different religious journals which were being 
 rapidly started on all sides. Meanwhile, he could not 
 understand how the discussion of this or that passing topic 
 of the day was regarded as more important than his grave 
 and lucid expositions of scriptural doctrines. The truth is, 
 that a new movement, and one with whicli he was only 
 remotely connected, had begun gradually to obscure, 
 among the adherents of the evangelical cause, those eternal 
 interests of salvation and that personal love of the Saviour 
 which had been at the bottom of the courage and persever- 
 ance he had displayed in his youth, and which had con- 
 tinued to characterise his best years ; while a special pro- 
 minence was awarded in many minds to the distracting 
 consideration of the rights of Churches, and of the liberties 
 of a religious world in which he felt himself out of place, 
 and the several factions of Avhich invariably wearied him. 
 
 This is evident from his correspondence at that time. 
 His letters are almost always called forth by some necessity 
 arising to vindicate the position of independence he had 
 assumed with regard to the ecclesiastical parties, whether 
 in Geneva or abroad. The impression produced on reading 
 them is of a mixed character. While they evince an 
 elevation of thought and catholicity of spirit, developed 
 with ever-increasing clearness, it is impossible to feel indif- 
 ferent at the proof they give of the degree to which his 
 isolation had weighed him down. 
 
 " I have ever received at my own table, as at the table 
 of the Lord, all the disciples of Jesus Christ," he writes to 
 
A SENSITIVE CONSCIENCE. . 437 
 
 a friend who had deserted him because he had entertained 
 a professor of the Established Church of Scotland. "What- 
 ever might be the form of the Church to which they 
 belonged, I have ever shown them respect and affection. 
 Dissenter though I am myself, I am far from supposing 
 that my friends are confined to dissenters. No, no ! the 
 Lord Jesus has not forsaken His sheep because the pasture 
 in which they feed is under the protection of the great ones 
 of the earth." 
 
 At Geneva, where he suffered daily, he never hesitated 
 to cross-examine himself over and over again as to whe- 
 ther by any possibility he could follow a different line. 
 This appears in the numerous letters which passed between 
 him and the pastors of the evangelical Church at that 
 time. We see there, side by side with an entire inter- 
 communion of faith and piety, the evidence of two opinions 
 clearly defined. On the one side predominate the inte- 
 rests and the unity of the visible Church ; on the other, 
 purity of doctrine, and the hopelessness of attempting to 
 confine the free action of the Holy Spirit to fixed institu- 
 tions. The correspondence, from this point of view, is 
 full of interest. Whilst the thorough uprightness of the 
 men to whom it introduces us prevented them from having 
 any reserve with one anotlier, their sentiments of mutual 
 deference and fervent charity invariably reunited them, in 
 a stronger bond, at each point of separation. I refer espe- 
 cially to the letters between my father and ]\Ierle 
 D'Aubigne, in wliich the tenderness of an old friendship 
 blended with the traits arisincj out of tlie character and 
 piety of the two men. 
 
 " It is good," he says, in a letter to one of his children 
 
438 LIFE OF CjFSAB MALAN. 
 
 to whom lie had been in the habit of speaking his mind 
 very freely, after a passing reference to his regret at finding 
 himself estranged abroad from many old friends, — " it is 
 good, it is necessary, that heaven should reveal itself to ns 
 as a reality, utterly different from this poor world, even 
 from the so-called Christian world. The heart draws 
 closer to the Friend who remains the same for ever — even 
 the Lord Jesus. So faithful, so sincere, so real !" 
 
 Gradually he withdrew altogether from the scene. After 
 1848 he used to pass the summer in a little country house 
 which he had inherited from his mother at YandcemTes. 
 Eventually, in 1855, he resolved, by his son's advice, to 
 take up his abode there entirely. This he did in 1857, 
 after having exhibited once more in the sale of Pre-Beni 
 and in the thousand matters of detail which such a change 
 involved — the decision, energy, and activity of his best 
 years. It was no light thing, indeed, at seventy years of 
 age, to leave the neighbourhood of the town where he had 
 always lived, and the house in which thirty-five years of 
 domestic life had been passed, and to carry out such 
 repairs and building arrangements as were necessary for 
 an entirely new establishment in a retired village, with 
 no further change in prospect ; to have his library con- 
 veyed there ; to set up his workshop and lithographical 
 machinery ; above all, to change his study, — to desert the 
 old one filled with endless memories, and which had been 
 for so long a time the sanctuary of his joys and sorrows 
 in the presence of his God. 
 
 His plans determined on, however, he did not hesitate ; 
 indeed, so far was he from regretting his decision, that we 
 even wondered at the readiness with which he adapted 
 
VANDCEUVRES. 439 
 
 liimself to the change. We soon found him becoming 
 daily more enamoured of his retreat. Moreover, he Avas 
 the first to recomiise with latitude to God that that de- 
 
 o o 
 
 cision which had been to him so painful originally, had 
 nevertheless, by determining his position, led to a provi- 
 sion for his old age amply sufficient for his moderate wants 
 and simple and orderly habits. 
 
 The traveller landing at Geneva by a lake steamer, on 
 one of those warm, bright summer evenin^^s which lend to 
 our climate the glow of an Italian sunset, — after gazing 
 wonderingly at the crimsoned ridges of the glaciers of 
 Mont Blanc, will notice, as his eye forsakes the paling 
 mountain, a hill which skirts the shore by the margin of 
 which he is being rapidly borne. Many villas cluster on 
 its beautiful ridges, gleaming among the dark green masses 
 of park and thicket foliage. Its name is " Cologny," the 
 name, too, of the village which crowns it on the west, 
 within twenty minutes' walk of Geneva. 
 
 Setting out from the city and arriving there, he will 
 leave behind him the dusty roads of the suburbs, and 
 even the distant views of the bridges and quays. Ex- 
 tending his walk a little further he will reach the sum- 
 mit of the hill, where he will be compelled to pause. The 
 sublimest of prospects unveils before him its sudden 
 splendours. Face to face with him are the eternal Alps, 
 surrounding witli their sky-piercing pinnacles the snowy 
 form of their majestic monarch, and encircled by an outer 
 range, alternately bare and wooded. At his feet he sees, 
 not here, as on the other side of the city, the blue and 
 motionless surface of the Leman, but a long wide plain, 
 
440 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 spreading under liis gaze, witli its towns, cottages, and 
 woods, — and melting by degrees into the nearest declivities 
 of the Voirons, of Mole and of Saleve ; while the eye 
 follows its last windings into the heart of the populous 
 valleys which lose themselves between the above-named 
 mountains. Here and there, on all sides, country houses 
 of the citizens, — some of them veritable chateaux, — face, 
 with their groves and lawns, the tranquil and majestic 
 landscape. Near him at his feet glitters, among the trees 
 which conceal its base, the summit of a modest steeple, 
 with peasants' cottages grouped around. It is the 
 church and village of Yandoeuvres, one of the loveliest 
 retreats a sage could covet, wherein to forget the turmoil 
 of busy towns ; or a Christian, wearied with the tumult of 
 life, to prepare himself for those eternal mansions wdiich 
 the distant view of the lofty Alps, more vividly even than 
 the ocean itself, seems fitted to suggest to the soul. 
 
 At the extremity of the village, out of sight and hearing 
 of its houses, stands tlie modest dwelling where my father 
 spent the seven last years of his life. You scarcely enter 
 it w^hen you see right in front, through the glazed door, 
 Mont Blanc himself, the centre of the landscape the 
 details of which we have endeavoured to describe. Close 
 at hand a long terrace, supported by a low wall, stretches 
 in front of the house, extending beyond it on either 
 side. Lower down is a flower garden with a vine-clad 
 arbour, and, lower still, a small orchard bordered with oaks, 
 and shaded here and there by a few fruit trees. At one 
 end of the terrace a wooden summer-house offers its 
 shelter from the north wind. Brought here from the 
 Bre-Beni, it bears on its front the passage of Scripture 
 
THE EVENING SACRIFICE. 441 
 
 wliicli my father inscribed upon it in 1823: "Then tliey 
 that feared the Lord spake often one to another : and the 
 Lord hearkened, and heard," (Mai. iii. 16.) Seated there, 
 we see before us, on the other side of the garden, an old 
 house almost entirely covered with a wild vine. It still 
 contains some habitable rooms in which my father used to 
 put up those of his family who came to stay with him 
 from time to time. 
 
 Such is the retreat to which my parents withdrew in 
 1857, with one of my sisters who never left them, and who 
 still lives there witli my mother. 
 
 At the time of the sale of the Pre-Beni, my father took 
 care to reserve the usufruct of his chapel, as well as 
 possession of its materials. His object in this was to pre- 
 vent, after his death, a buildino- so lonc,^ consecrated to 
 the preaching of the gospel, being handed over to secular 
 uses. 
 
 So, while living at Vandceuvres, he continued to minister 
 at the chapel. Giving up the week meetings, however, he 
 confined himself to the Sunday services ; generally walking 
 over for the purpose. He contrived a little room in the 
 summer-house where he had commenced his meetings in 
 1819, in which he rested a few moments before entering 
 tlie pulpit, and where he received, after the sermon, any 
 who might wish to speak to him. 
 
 Who shall conjecture his thoughts in that place where 
 he had commenced his courageous testimony, and A\liere he 
 came forty years afterwards, a wliite-haired old man, not 
 to contemplate the triumph of his own labours, but to bow 
 down before the same Lord and Master Who had so won- 
 derfully accomplished the work under his own eyes. 
 
442 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 In those concluding years liis preaching changed wonder- 
 fully. There were days when he seemed to have sum- 
 moned back the fire, the clearness, the eloquence of his 
 youth. His congregation, too, which had been so reduced 
 after 1849, increased very perceptibly. For himself, his 
 pul^Dit ministrations alone gave importance to a life which 
 was becoming feebler every day. Sometimes, on a doubt 
 arising, as to whether he would be strong enough for the 
 next Sunday's service, he would appear to hesitate, yet, 
 when the day came, he would set out on foot for the city, 
 often through rain and snow. It was not till afterwards 
 that he had recourse to a conveyance, and, at first, only 
 for his return. Not only throughout his whole life did he 
 avoid, as far as possible, occasioning Sunday labour to 
 any, but he seemed positively on that day to regain 
 something of his former vigour. 
 
 That vigour, however, was only called forth in him, in 
 connection with eternal interests. As w^e have already 
 seen, he never attached much importance to the strifes of 
 parties, and the excitement of what is called the reli- 
 gious world. ISTow, more than ever, the invisible king- 
 dom, the work of God in human hearts, the return of 
 wandering souls to a holy and merciful Father, Whom 
 the Saviour reveals, and to Whom He conducts, — became 
 each day increasingly his constant and soul-absorbing 
 concern. 
 
 When he asked me for news from Geneva, it was in this 
 direction that his inquiry pointed. It was his delight to 
 hear of the gospel being preached with life and warmth, 
 whatever might be the Church where it was delivered, and 
 whose-soever tlie lips that delivered it. As for the ever- 
 
LATEST RAYS. 443 
 
 changing affairs of men, and the ever-deceiving promises 
 of parties, he ignored, and, what is more, he wished to 
 ignore them. He felt it a relief to be, as he nsed to say, 
 "removed from all that." Almost lost sight of by those 
 who had come after him, he was, to the general j)iiblic, 
 merely an old man, whose irreproachable life and habitual 
 benevolence commanded universal respect. Educated 
 men, while they saluted him with marked respect, were 
 in evident terror, "lest he should question them about 
 their souls." The people, however, who were not so over- 
 sensitive were instinctively drawer towards him. His 
 departure from Eaux Vives w^as a positive grief to many 
 families in that populous parish, and at Vaudoeuvres he 
 soon found himself invested with the confidence and 
 respect of all the villagers. 
 
 There, too, he found, in the good pastor of the place, a 
 man as courteous as he was large-hearted. He made a 
 point of attending his church whenever his own service 
 was in tlie afternoon, as it usually w^as in winter. While, 
 on their part, M. Theremin and his family never ceased to 
 evince towards my mother and him the most thoughtful 
 and devoted attention, which tended greatly to diminish 
 the solitude of their life, and the remembrance of which 
 they will always gratefully cherish. 
 
 Erom time to time a return of strength arrested for a 
 moment the weakness and infirmity of age. Thus, during 
 the first years of his stay at Vandccuvres, he was greatly 
 occupied wdth the publication of several of his tracts in 
 America. A gentleman, till then unknown to him, having 
 read some of them, wished to see English versions of them 
 distributed through the United States. Correspondence 
 
444 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAN. 
 
 with liim, his warmth of heart, and his zeal for the interests 
 of the gosjoel, were among the sweetest mercies with which 
 it pleased God to brighten the last years of my father's 
 life. 
 
 Another great delight was the festival of the Evangelical 
 Alliance, which took place at Geneva, in August 1861. 
 ^Nothing could more thoroughly harmonise with what had 
 been all his life long tlie one earnest desire of his soul, 
 than the idea on which that Alliance had been established. 
 "We may recall his words in 1818. "AYhatever be his 
 confession or denomination, the man who believes with all 
 his heart in the merits of the Lord Jesus is my brother, 
 and as soon as I recognise him as such I will make him 
 feel it to the utmost of my power." It is well known 
 that the leaders of the Genevese branch of the Alliance 
 thought that they ought to replace, by a dogmatic formula, 
 clearly expressed, the simple declaration of faith and piety 
 which had served till then as the rallying standard of the 
 Association ; my father, though he did not start the idea, 
 certainly supported it. Indeed, he had long cherished a 
 wish that the Alliance would adopt what he called "a 
 more open and living confession," while, at the same time, 
 he deplored the fact that his brethren of the National 
 Church kept aloof from it."^ From his point of view, 
 
 * I find the following opinion on the subject of Confessions of Faith in a 
 letter he wrote, in 1862, to a friend of his : — "For my part, I always 
 looked upon Confessions of Faith, in Christ's Church, nob as obligatory 
 formulas and rules for thought, belief, or profession ; but as (what they 
 really are) solemn manifestations of conviction ; sign-posts, as it were, 
 on the high-roads ; placed to show the way where paths diverge. Did 
 
 the sign-post ever constitute the road itself ? The science of 
 
 sciences must also declare what it is, not in order to make itself what it 
 already is, but in order to manifest itself openly." " It certainly does not 
 
IN ST PETERS. 445 
 
 indeed, lie could only see, in such a formula, a sign of 
 fidelity and frankness in the confession of the faith itself. 
 Letters, which he wrote to a friend at that time, show the 
 indignation he felt at the protest which emanated from 
 twenty-two of the National clergy, against this declaration 
 of orthodoxy. One would have said that the cry of 
 "Negation" had been heard again after a long silence, 
 denounced once so openly by his powerful voice. 
 
 It was not without emotion, and gratitude to God, as 
 evinced by these same letters, thai he found himself on 
 that occasion, after an interval of more than forty years, 
 one of a multitude of godly men, present from all parts, at 
 this great solemnity, in the church of St Peter, which, to 
 all Genevese Protestants, is the sanctuary and palladium of 
 their country. He had not crossed its threshold since the 
 day when, in August 1818, he had preached that sermon 
 which had resulted in his inhibition. Now it was no 
 longer to strive, or to protest, but to render thanks, that 
 he was present there. His joy, too, was unalloyed at the 
 thought of what God had done in Geneva since that day, 
 so many years ago, when He had chosen him "to raise 
 from the dust the fallen standard of the gospel of truth. 
 
 Apart from the sufferings and infirmities entailed upon 
 him by his great age, it may be remarked that his life at 
 Vandccu\Tes was a period of repose, and retrospect, and of 
 sweet and peaceable meditation. He received visits— not, 
 as at I^rG-Peni, from a number of strangers who came to 
 
 imply that the minister of God ought to be made a slave to a prescribed 
 form, but teaches this first, that it behoves him not to presume, as if he 
 were infallible ; or, secondly, that he is called upon to examine for himself 
 how far such a Confession of Faith expresses the Holy Spirit's actual 
 teachin'j-." 
 
446 LIFE OF CESAR MALAN. 
 
 see the man whose fame had reached their ears, but from 
 those exclusively whom affection or genuine spiritual con- 
 cern induced to seek him out in his retirement. Nume- 
 rous enough in the summer, they were often productive 
 to him of sweet and sometimes sacred pleasure. 
 
 It was not only strangers, however, who came to see 
 him. A gentleman who, though much younger than him- 
 self, had been one of his oldest friends, and who spent, 
 like him, the last years of his life in the country near 
 Vandoeuvres — Col. H. Tronchin — never ceased, to the very 
 last, to cheer and enliven his solitude. " How often,'* 
 writes my sister, who lived with my father and mother, 
 " has that excellent man thought nothing of the distance 
 which separates his house from this, while his own health 
 was shattered, and even sometimes the worse of the two, — 
 to bring a word of cheering encouragement and affection 
 to his old friend. The character of their minds, the frank- 
 ness and the firmness of their faith, agreed so well. Our 
 door was never closed to him, nor did the two believers 
 ever meet on the threshold of the eternal world without 
 my father feeling rejoiced and re-animated by the inter- 
 view. * 
 
 It was my privilege to see him constantly during 
 these years; and often have I been elevated, strength- 
 ened, aroused, by his clear, positive, simple, earnest teach- 
 ing. Never was he more thoroughly my guide, my 
 comforter, my friend, and the father I mourn ! The days 
 when, as he used to say, he felt 1 should come, he would 
 go a little way back with me for a walk. Sometimes, 
 towards the end, I had to urge him to take his stick. 
 
 * CoL Tronchin died a yeax after my father. 
 
 i 
 
TUE GOLDEN JUBILEE. 447 
 
 Scarcely, however, had we started than he raised his head, 
 his step recovered its elasticity, and his conversation re- 
 called his brightest days, alternately familiar and lively, or 
 grave, earnest, and affecting. Then, as always, there was 
 no mention of proper names, as that would have been but 
 idle gossip. We talked of family news. He never forget 
 to inquire after my little ones, whom he had baptized, and 
 whom he tenderly loved ; as well as their mother, whom 
 he delighted to call his " beloved daughter." 
 
 Occasionally, during that period, in the summer months, 
 he would visit me early at Geneva. Seating himself at 
 our table, his presence alone was a treat to our elder 
 children, who are now described by their juniors as 
 " those who knew their grandfather." He entered into 
 all the details of my earliest joys and sorrows as a father ; 
 and his image is inseparably associated with the remem- 
 brances of the commencement of my domestic life. 
 
 On the 25th of April 1861, my parents celebrated the 
 fiftieth anniversary of their marriage. Some of their 
 children were able to collect for the occasion from foreifija 
 parts. A simple repast, with a few choice dishes and 
 flowers sent by old friends of the family, and a piece of 
 plate, the offering of a few members of his reduced congre- 
 gation, was prepared for the festival, at which were present 
 a few of his children and grandchildren. IMy father began 
 by returning thanks to Him Who had led him safely so 
 far, then he addressed a few graceful words to our motlicr — 
 courteous and appropriate. Amongst the many congratu- 
 latory letters, there were several which it would have been 
 a pleasure to preserve. One of them contained some 
 verses from the minister Bungener, by whose sentiments 
 
i 
 
 448 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK \ 
 
 ! 
 
 my father was deeply affected. I give the poem, which i 
 
 was entitled Lcs Trois Couronncs. ' 
 
 " The first was on the brow ; 
 
 Long years had covered o'er with tresses white, I 
 
 Ere at a joyous feast the glad sun's light ! 
 Silvered its locks of snow. 
 
 " The second served t' adorn 1 
 Father and mother with its rim of gold ; 
 
 The blessed fruit of half a century told ; 
 
 Of wedded love, were gathered at their feet, ' 
 
 Children and grandchildren, their hearts to greet, J 
 Upon their marriage morn. 
 
 " The third, unseen, awaiteth him on high, ! 
 
 Where at the solemn hour — to man unknown — ! 
 
 The Lord shall faithful labours own, 'i 
 
 And crown his long-wrought service in the sky. 
 
 " And sons and loving ones cried, ' Wait awhile ! 
 
 Lord, yet a little while, in mercy stay ; 
 Ere yet his boyhood had begun to smile 
 
 He caught the gleam of Thine eternal day ! 
 Leave him in love and hope to linger yet, 
 
 Quench not the shining light, its lustre spare ; 
 And, Jesu, when on earth his sun has set, 
 
 Be his the crown of righteousness to wear ! ' " * 
 
 * Translated from the original of M. Bungener. j 
 
 The translator would take this opportunity of adding a version of one of \ 
 
 Malan's hymns — omitted from that portion of the book for which it was .; 
 
 originally intended. The original was composed by the author at a time 
 when he was called, in a measure, to suffer for the truth's sake, and was 
 often sung by him, voice and heart in full tune Avith the words. 
 
 He wrote it in 1821, after a pedestrian tour in Switzerland, and a visit to 
 Constance. The sight of that city — once so prosperous, now, as it were, 
 visited with the displeasure of the Most High — struck him deeply. While 
 he lived among the traditions of the blessed Reformation, the names of 
 John Huss, of Jerome of Prague, and of the English Wickliffe, were 
 specially dear to him. 
 
 His first care was to visit the State in which the persecuting council had 
 
A GRACEFUL SERENADE. 449 
 
 We were just preparing to return home,— our father and 
 mother being exhausted with the day's excitement. He 
 indeed had already retired to his room, when an unwonted 
 
 assembled. Thence he turned to the martyr's prison, and saw the "cage" 
 in which he had been incarcerated. A piece of this he brought back with 
 him, and hung it over his mantle-piece among other similar reh'cs. 
 
 HYMN OF JOHN HUSS IN PRISON. 
 Jesu, Son of God most High, 
 
 See me in this dungeon drear ; 
 For Thy glorious name I lie 
 
 Fetter bound, a captive, here. 
 Vengeance this of foes of Thine, 
 Dooming me till death to pine : 
 Yet, Saviour King, for Thee 
 Sweet is suffering to me ! 
 
 In my life was never cause. 
 
 Thus, for meed of savage ire ; 
 For the rigour of their laws. 
 
 For their baptism of fire ; 
 Love of Thee was all my sin — 
 All they sought without, within ; 
 Yet, Saviour King, for Thee 
 Sweet is suffering to me ! 
 
 When I told them from Thy word. 
 How Thy cross atonement made — 
 
 How Thy "precious blood," outpoured, 
 All redemption's price hath paid — 
 
 Curses hailed my loving warning, 
 
 Hurled by men Thy message scorning ; 
 
 Yet, Saviour King, for Thee 
 
 Sweet is worst reproach to me ! 
 
 When I spoke of all Thy grace, 
 
 Of salvation perfected, 
 Of a pardon for the race — 
 
 They but heaped upon my head, 
 (Scowling, with contempt irate,) 
 Insult fierce and withering hate ; 
 Yet, Saviour King, to me 
 Sweet is all, endured for Thee ! 
 
 2f 
 
450 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 light, and the first notes of a choir of male voices brought 
 him to the window. Some students in theology, with a 
 few friends, had come from the city to greet with a torch- 
 light serenade the man whose very name they had learned 
 to reverence. Such a termination of the day crowned it 
 worthily. After addressing them in a few heartfelt words, 
 my father retired, full of wonder and gratitude at the 
 general sympathy which he had encountered on this 
 memorable anniversary.* 
 
 It is of those first years of my father's retirement at 
 Vandoeuvres that ]\I. J. A. Bost gave such a true account, 
 from which I may be permitted to make a few extracts :"[- — 
 " What a peaceful charm ! — what blessing ! — what sweet 
 and precious remembrances I have of afternoons and even- 
 Thus this body, faint and frail — 
 
 Far removed from gleam of day — 
 Pangs of cruel thirst assail, 
 
 Pangs of hunger waste away ; 
 And the gyves and clanking chain 
 Drag me down to deeper pain ; 
 Yet, O Saviour King, for Thee 
 Bright the dungeon is to me ! 
 Now I wait their cro%vning deed ; 
 
 Soon their vengeance will be o'er ; 
 Death, the captive exile speed, 
 
 Swiftly to a painless shore ! 
 Upward borne on wings of flame, 
 Por the honour of Thy name ! 
 O Lord Jesu, Saviour King, 
 
 Whispers oft my heart to me — 
 Can Thy service suffering bring ? 
 Is it death to die for Thee ? 
 
 * It is worthy of remark that my father was not the oldest surviving 
 member of his family at that time. His mother's eldest sister was then 
 living at Florence, where she shortly afterwards died, having all but com- 
 pleted her 100th year. 
 
 t "Caesar Malan: Impressions, Notes, and Souvenirs." 1865. P. 59. 
 
PORTRAIT OF A ROOM 451 
 
 iDgs spent at his house. On the terrace, in tlie garden, in 
 the drawing-room, in his work-room, everywhere, he was 
 the same; simple and unpretending, his manner affection- 
 ate and brotherly, his conversation lively and diversified- 
 though he never forgot that he was the ambassador of 
 Christ, and was constantly discovering means of intro- 
 ducing the solemn subjects which filled his thoughts. I 
 was soon in his room, and seated by the organ on which 
 he had composed and played all his hymns ; the mantle- 
 piece before me, the ornaments of which recalled so many 
 episodes m his missionary life; inscriptions on all sides • 
 texts from the Bible ; drawings, portraits, beads, and other 
 relios,-the fruits of his influence over the souls he had been 
 the means of enlightening; aU lands of souvenirs of his 
 family, his journeys, his friends, his youth, his children in 
 the laith, the deliverances God had wrought out for him 
 That room was a museum, a library, a workshop ; he ou^dit 
 to have written its history. He sometimes thought" of 
 doing so. But it was a sanctuary, too." 
 
 Again : " Eound the tea-table, what inexhaustible ani- 
 mation-what usefulness-the old man displayed ! If there 
 were children present, how he exerted himself in their 
 behalf-disinterring the memories of his youth tliat he 
 might find something to interest them. Then when, after 
 family worship, we took our leave, he would give his 
 friends a parting word, and we separated in the sincerity 
 and delight of brotherly love." 
 
 My father was much occupied with his hymns at that 
 time. This was his last work, with the exception of his 
 daily study of the Scriptures-a study to which he devoted 
 himself to the last. He revised those he had in his port- 
 
452 • LIFE OF CjFSAB MALAN. 
 
 folio, and composed fresli ones, never deceiving himself 
 as to the inequality that existed among them ; and en- 
 joyed reading portions of them to his friends, asking, " Do 
 you think that worth printing ?" " He brought more love 
 than self-love to his task, and challenged friendly criticism 
 spontaneously, making notes at the time," we read in 
 Best's notice, — he being, I believe, one of the " friends " 
 referred to. As I have already mentioned, my father 
 left behind him more than a thousand hymns, a great 
 number of wdiich he had carefully revised. This was his 
 favourite employment, and he regarded it as a legacy 
 to his brethren. His correspondence at this time closes 
 with precious testimonies of that life of faith and personal 
 piety which became increasingly his absorbing care. I 
 give an instance from a letter which he wrote, in May 
 1861, to an asfed friend drawing^ near his death : — 
 
 " I often anticipate that solemn hour which is to witness 
 the close of my earthly life, and I ask whether my peace 
 and hope are steadfast, and whether I can enter fearlessly 
 the realities of eteriuty. It is then that I realise the worth, 
 the power, the calm sovereignty of the promises of God. 
 ' He that hath the Son hath life : ' and I realise that doctrine 
 of grace that I have Christ indeed, because I firmly believe 
 that He is living in His Father's presence in heaven, and 
 that in Him and by Him have been wrought out and fully 
 accomplished the redemption and eternal salvation of those 
 whom the Father has given Him. Here, — emphatically 
 here, — is the repose of my soul, and the ground of my ex- 
 pectation. Here alone I find my assurance of being in 
 heaven, in that lieaven which I see so near me, wherein I 
 behold only the Eternal, the glorified saints, the elect 
 
A ROYAL VISIT. 453 
 
 angels, and where I could never have entered had it not 
 pleased the Father to choose me in Christ, and to give me 
 true life in Him, and to prepare me for His presence." 
 
 From time to tims some unexpected joy befell him. 
 Among the greatest was a visit in 1853 from his old friend 
 Paul Henry of Berlin, whom he had never met since 1815, 
 when they parted at Schalfhausen, and who died in the 
 following year. 
 
 I may be permitted also to refer in this place to another 
 visit which my father was far from expecting. One day, 
 in the autunm of 1862, on my asking him, as I entered 
 his room, what had transpired since our last meetmg, he 
 told me laughingly of the dismay of an inexperienced 
 young servant whom my mother had just engaged. The 
 girl, amazed at seeing a carriage stop at our little garden 
 gate, and a noble lady issue from it wdth her attendants, 
 had run to my father's room announcing the stranger by 
 some inconceivable name. Going downstairs he found 
 himself in the presence of the Queen of Holland, who had 
 spared a few hours, in passing through Geneva, to pay him 
 a visit at Vandoeuvres. I did not know till then that he 
 had ever been presented to her. I asked him if he had 
 been careful, at all events, in addressing her, to observe 
 the prescribed forms. Eecovering his seriousness in a 
 moment, he replied, " Ah, my dear boy, I know nothing 
 about that, positively ; all I know is, that I addressed her 
 as a minister of God. I had no time to think of any but 
 eternal things. The one important consideration is the 
 gospel and the Saviour. We spoke of the salvation of the 
 soul; of that vast eternity to which we are hastening." 
 " Your father's words are engraven in my recollection, and 
 
454 LIFE OF CJESAB MALAN. 
 
 I often recall them with gratitude," writes the iUustrious 
 lady, who was so willing to mark her interest in the vener- 
 able servant of God by visiting him in his humble retreat. 
 The Lord remember this cup of cold water given to one of 
 His children ! 
 
 And my father needed refreshment and encouragement 
 by the way. His strength decayed rapidly. Each time I 
 saw him I found him more infirm, and, at first, more 
 silent. Eor a long time certainly it was a gradual and 
 almost insensible change, but I noted with concern its too 
 evident progress. His image comes back to me at that 
 time, as described by my sister, to whom I have already 
 alluded. 
 
 " Like Abraham, sittinc^ at the door of his tent and con- 
 templating, in protracted and sublime meditation, the divine 
 promises, so did this second Abraham, — this calm, peace- 
 ful old man, — sit in his chair, and hold silent communion 
 with his God. How often we found him, — with clasped 
 hands and uplifted eyes, — apparently plunged into the 
 invisible world : his expression calm, gentle, and serious. 
 The sacred volume was before him. He never left off 
 reading it till the approach of death veiled his eyes. For 
 hours he meditated on it ; studied it ; searched into it 
 again and again. His Bible ; covered with notes and 
 his writing ; is, as it were, a monument of his declining 
 years. 
 
 " One of the last religious services, at which he presided 
 in his chapel, was the ordination of M. Lenoir to the 
 sacred ministry, in June 1863. Three or four pastors had 
 gathered round the pulpit. Learning from one of his 
 deacons that a minister from abroad, with whom he had 
 
HE ACHING THE HORIZON. 455 
 
 kept up an affectionate correspondence, was present, he 
 sent to ask him to come up, and greeting him tenderly, as 
 a father might a son, rapidly exchanged with him a few 
 earnest words, and then placed him in the midst of the 
 ordaining pastors. The sermon and prayers had no other 
 preparation than the long experience and fervent piety of 
 the preacher, but the congregation remained under a sense 
 of the real presence of the Spirit of God, and their inter- 
 cessions will ever follow him for Avhom they were offered."* 
 
 A few days before the ordination (June 19th), I find the 
 foUowing in my father's journal: "Dear Gaussen is with 
 the Lord ! What ineffable bliss for his soul !" 
 
 And my father craved no more for himself He had 
 done with the world. Already he had witnessed the de- 
 parture of many of his fellow-labourers and the friends of 
 his youth— Empeytaz, Rochat, Olivier, Galland, and nume- 
 rous others. We felt, too, as if we saw him gTadually 
 withdrawing from us. One might have accused him of 
 apathy, had not his tenderness to us, and his faith in God, 
 remained as deep as ever. It was evident that, if he did 
 thus alienate himself from the world, it was because his 
 soul was rapidly approaching that heavenly country, where 
 eternal glory and bliss were never more joyously, more 
 victoriously, anticipated. 
 
 On the 11th of October lie had a baptism in his chapel ; 
 on the 8th of November lie mounted the pulpit for the last 
 time. 
 
 He had long been silently battling with his disease. He 
 found it increasingly necessary for him to drive to his Sun- 
 day service, which he was compelled occasionally to entrust 
 
 * J. A. Bost. Ibid. 
 
456 LIFE OF C^SAR MALAK 
 
 to others. At the end of November, I learnt that he was 
 in bed ; but as I was ill myself, he sent to forbid my going 
 out to see him. Hearing, however, the next day that he 
 was in great pain, I went to him. The same evening I 
 returned with a surgeon. After a few days, in which he 
 was a little better, he had to take to his bed again, and 
 permitted me at once to call in Dr Duval, a physician whose 
 skilful services in my own family T had learnt to appreciate, 
 and who, up to the very end, displayed a zeal and devotion 
 to my dear father which powerfully contributed to soothe 
 our distress, and to alleviate the sufferings of the in- 
 valid. 
 
 It was not long before the doctor told me plainly that 
 the case was beyond cure. My father, was now confined 
 to his bed by paralysis in the extremities, though his 
 sufferings had somewhat abated. Conscious as he was, 
 however, of the gravity of his attack, I knew him too well 
 to hesitate as to wliether he should learn the whole truth. 
 Eeserving it for myself to tell my mother, I begged the 
 doctor to take the first opportunity of letting him know 
 everything. 
 
 The next day, when Dr Duval had left him, he called 
 my mother and myseK into his room. Addressing her, he 
 said, " Well, my dear Jenny, it seems that I am nailed to 
 this bed." Then, askine^ me with a look how far he micrht 
 go, " The dear young man," he said, speaking of Dr Duval, 
 "was quite distressed; he was afraid of paining me. I 
 soon put him at his ease. I told him that all was well ; 
 that I understood what he had to tell me ; that I was given 
 over by human skill, and then we spoke of heavenly things." 
 Dwelling no longer on the thought of his death, he recurred 
 
DEATH, BUT NO CONDEMNATION. 457 
 
 • frequently to his sensations at noticing the natural hesita- 
 tion which the doctor, who might easily have seemed young 
 to him, had manifested in the discharge of his solemn duty"^ 
 ^ It was only to spare us, however, that he was thus 
 silent ; for, from that moment, he was another man. While 
 he had never regarded his sufferings as being merely 
 temporary in their character,— the anxiety they occasioned, 
 and the helplessness to which he found himself suddenly,' 
 and for the first time, reduced, had combined to make him' 
 restless and depressed. Though he never uttered a word 
 of fretfulness or murmuring, still it was evident that it 
 was only by an effort that he could maintain his patience. 
 But from the moment that he was told that he would 
 never " quit the bed on which he was gone up," * a peace 
 and an absolute calm took possession at once of his whole 
 being; and, when the pain was not too great, his expres- 
 sion, if words were wanting, never ceased to utter the 
 most tender love to all who approached him. 
 ^ Such was his state during the last four months of his 
 life; especially during the two last, which literally were 
 nothing short of a terrible and prolonged agony. 
 
 With many others of our family who had come from 
 various parts, I established myself in his house. He could 
 not bear long visits— it was even evident that he did 
 not like us to sit by his bed. One day, on catching the 
 look of intense sympathy that the sight of his sufferings 
 called up in me, he said, "Do not stay, dear, tliis is not the 
 place for you." Sitting in the next room we could see 
 him through the half-open door, propped up with pillows, 
 his hands cramped with pain, his eyes lowered, whilst his' 
 
 * 2 Kin-s i. 4. 
 
458 LIFE OF C^SAB MALAN. 
 
 moving lips showed that he was breathing out a low- 
 voiced prayer. 
 
 These were his worst days, how^ever; he had better 
 ones, and then he w^ould have his Bible open on his bed at 
 some part of the gospel, in which he read at intervals. 
 One day, when one of my sisters had entered after his 
 doctor had just left, " What honour ! " he exclaimed, 
 what joy ! " laying his hand on the sacred Volume. " God 
 has given me grace, enabling me once more to preach the 
 glad tidings of the gospel from my deathbed ! " 
 
 By degrees the news of his sufferings became widely 
 spread. On all sides, at Geneva and abroad, as we after- 
 wards learnt, his brethren assembled to pray for him. 
 This was the case in all the dissenting chapels in Geneva. 
 In his own church, wdiere meetings had been held for two 
 years, under the presidency of some pious men, every 
 Friday evening, they did not cease to intercede for him. 
 In one of these meetings, which w^as particularly afiecting, 
 says one w^ho was present, there was a presentiment (after- 
 wards realised) that it would be the last.* It was presided 
 over by the Pastor Barde, who, after mentioning that at 
 the time w^hen that chapel was built, he had been among 
 the opponents of the " Methodists," invited those present 
 to join him in pleading with the Lord for its founder, then 
 in his last struggle. 
 
 Towards the close of his illness he was seldom able to 
 see any one. One of his friends, on leaving his room, said 
 in my hearing, as though he were talking to himself, " He 
 had, as it w^ere, a halo of glory around him!" I was not 
 surprised to hear him say so. Indeed, if my father's was a 
 
 * J. A. Bost's Notices, p. 64. 
 
LIGHT! 459 
 
 silent deathbed, it was truly glorious. He spoke little; 
 sometimes lie never uttered a word tlie whole day. But 
 he did more. His whole soul absorbed within itself, — he 
 endured, without a murmur, without even a groan, suffer- 
 ings, the mere sight of which deeply affected the servants, 
 and even the medical attendants. JSTight and morning he 
 apologised to his attendant for the pain he had given him. 
 The servant, an old artillery man, who never quitted his 
 room for a siugle instant, felt in his own soul the grandeur 
 of that simple, silent, calm submission. " Our master," he 
 said to me, "is no soldier running up to the guns, he 
 walks into them." 
 
 " Those six months," I wrote, shortly after his death, to 
 ^lerle D'Aubigne, " and especially the two last — months of 
 torture borne without a murmur, with silent adoration, 
 with (allow me the expression) a grace and tenderness, 
 touchiuGf and sustained, I cannot describe in writing-." 
 
 In fact, his deathbed seemed to those who witnessed it 
 the most surprising of all liis achievements. Said the 
 doctor to me one day on leaving him, " I have just be- 
 held what I have often heard of, but what I never saw 
 before. Now I have seen it, as I see this stick I carry in 
 my hand." "And what have you seen?" I asked. ''Faith, 
 faith" he answered ; " not the faith of a theologian, but of 
 a Christian ! I have seen it with my eyes." 
 
 Ten or twelve times was I summoned to pray by his 
 deathbed. " That 's the thing to do me good," he said to 
 me once, when the prayer was over. " How fearfully you 
 are suffering, my dear father !" I exclaimed. Eaising his 
 hand with an effort, and lookintr at me with his loncj and 
 speaking gaze, he replied, " I do not suffer a moment too 
 
460 LIFE OF CjFSAR MALAK 
 
 mncli. I say not that God allows it ! ISTo, no !" lie added 
 earnestly, " but God ordains it ;" and, the next moment, 
 " It is that that gives one real consolation !" 
 
 Who would not long after such a faith in the eternal 
 decrees of God which can thus endue the weak soul of 
 man with a hero's strenofth, in the anguish, humiliation, 
 and down-crushing of the bed of death ! 
 
 On another occasion, shortly after, I spoke to him of the 
 heavenly glory, of entrance into the dwelling of the Lord, 
 of the sight of Jesus, of his beloved Master. Fixing on 
 me a deep, calm look, conveying an expression of semi- 
 surprise, " Why, God," he exclaimed, " Heaven, glory, 
 the Saviour — these are realities — realities ! Why 
 employ them to work ourselves into an excitement? 
 They are realities," he repeated. " It is this that passeth 
 aAvay : " showing me his emaciated, and all but paralysed, 
 hands. 
 
 One day I asked him, after having again prayed with 
 him, if he felt any distress of mind, any doubt, any ob- 
 scurity in his heart. Eaising his eyes, and casting a glance 
 around him, " iSTo," he said;" I am not alone!" and re- 
 peated twice, " ISTo, there are no clouds over my sky !" 
 When I said again to him that " even our Saviour, in His 
 agony, had felt the need of the presence of His friends," 
 and implored him to let me know if a season of trouble 
 visited him, he promised he would : and would seek the 
 ministry of my prayers. He never did so. 
 
 In general, his faculties remained unimjDaired to the 
 last. To one who visited him he could say, " The Lord 
 is with me, — as I have ever known Him ; " adding the 
 next moment, with his sweet and tranquil smile, " I have 
 
DOMINUS PASTOR MEUS. 4G1 
 
 always accepted the entire gospel without disputing either 
 its commandments, its mysteries, or its promises. The 
 Lord is faithful.* 
 
 A few days before his death he asked my eldest brother, 
 who, with me, was standing by him, to repeat the 23d 
 Psalm. As he never spoke anything but Latin with my 
 father, he began it in that tongue ; but he asked him to 
 give it in Hebrew, reciting it after him with folded hands, 
 in a low voice. He thought, too, of all of us. He gave 
 me directions as to what to do after his death ; he be- 
 queathed this or that article to one or another; but he 
 did not dwell on these matters. Havinc^ once arramied 
 them, he never again referred to the subject. 
 
 The nearer he approached to his end, the more silent 
 lie became. If we no longer came to hear him speak, 
 we could not grow weary of watching the saintly heroism 
 which the great Christian knew how to put forth in his 
 death. 
 
 M. Tronchin himself was deeply impressed by the spec- 
 tacle. One day, when we were talking together of the 
 manner in which my father was bearing the sufferings it 
 had pleased God to lay upon him, and when I expressed 
 my surprise that, after a life like his, he was called to such 
 an end, he replied that it was in the very character of 
 his career that he found the explanation of his protracted 
 figony. "How often have I heard even his friends say, 
 when I have been dilating admiringly on your fatlier's 
 work, ' Malan serves God with energy, with courage, and 
 ])erseverance, because the service which God requires of 
 him is an activity that agrees with his tastes and talents, 
 
 * Notices by J. A. Eost, page QQ. 
 
462 LIFE OF CJESAR MALAN. 
 
 "but pause before you fix your judgment — wait till you 
 see him summoned from an active, to a passive, service.' 
 God is doing that now," he added, " under our very eyes, at 
 this moment ; and in our eyes, too. His servant is found 
 faithful." 
 
 A matter which still occupied my father's thoughts was 
 his chapel. His wish had been that it should continue 
 dedicated, after his death, to the ministry of the gospel. 
 At the very beginning of his illness, he asked me to relate 
 over again to him certain steps which had been taken 
 some years before to transfer it into the hands of his 
 brethren of the Evangelical Church. Those to whom I had 
 applied in the matter wished it for themselves, but they 
 could not come to terms with the society to which the 
 site had been sold. Moreover, its position, in consequence 
 of new embankments which had thrown it into a hollow, 
 made it impossible to tliink of setting up there any but 
 a temporary worship. 
 
 Under these circumstances, my father, in view of his 
 end, charsjed me to have it taken down, lest, if it were left 
 standing, it might come to be appropriated to secular pur- 
 poses. As I was detained at YandoeuATes, one of his 
 deacons, a man who had given his whole life to the service 
 of Malan's church, and who had stood by my father 
 through nearly his entire ministry, was ready to undertake 
 the mournful task. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had he commenced to do so, when he 
 ascertained that the building which, at the beginning, was 
 very lightly constructed, was in so dilapidated a condition 
 that it would have been dangerous to allow it to remain. 
 
THE TABERNACLE AND TEMPLE. 4G3 
 
 It was even necessary to take special care lest its demoli- 
 tion should involve some accident/'^ 
 
 So ended the Chapel of Testimony, in which two genera- 
 tions had received spiritual nourishment, and the recalling 
 of which evokes, even at this hour, in Geneva, tender and 
 sacred memories in many a pious heart. All that now 
 remains of it is the title, " Chemin de la Chapelle," given 
 to the road which skirts its site. Allied with my father's 
 personal work, it was fitting that they should end together.-f 
 
 But to return to our beloved one. AVe had never 
 ceased to entreat the Lord to diminish his sufferings, and 
 to put an end to the anguish of our dear mother, who 
 saw him slowly departing without power to utter a 
 single farewell. These prayers w^ere now to be heard. 
 IVIy father descended, step by step, into the dark valley ; 
 but, as the tranquillity of his features showed, his lonely 
 pathway was lighted with radiance from on high. A 
 peace superior to the sufferings and dissolution of the 
 bodily frame — the peace and assurance of a believing soul 
 — that assurance which he had spent his life in proclaim- 
 ing to his brethren — surrounded him now. ]N"or did it 
 ever leave him, but proved his one support. He could 
 
 * Geneva being still in 1820 a fortified town, the military administration 
 could not allow tlie chapel to be built of stone, on account of its proximity 
 to the fortifications. 
 
 t The proceeds of the sale of the materials of the seats, and of the organ, 
 amounting, after expenses deducted, to 1900 francs, was placed by me to 
 the account of the Girls' School founded by my mother, as we have already 
 seen, on the very day of the consecration of the chapel. At the desire of 
 Madame Wolff Hanloch, the organ which had been given by her family in 
 1820 was sold in the interest of the same charity. It was bought for the 
 vestry of the church in Coppet, in which, as it happened, my father, when 
 a student, preached for the first time. 
 
464 LIFE OF C^FSAE MILAN. 
 
 not always hear our voices, but his assured and peaceful 
 look showed us that he still enjoyed an unclouded mind. 
 
 In his last sleep on the eve of his death (it was a Satur- 
 day) he smiled constantly, while he folded his hands. On 
 the Sunday morning, the 8th of May, my eldest sister, 
 coming into his room with me, greeted him with the 
 words, " Father, this is the day when the Lord Jesus will 
 come to receive you unto Himself." I saw him smile that 
 gracious, winning smile, ere he fell asleep to awake no 
 more. At 1.30 on that day, while we were all gathered 
 round his bed, waiting for his last sigh, his breathing, 
 which, since the morning, had been quiet and regular, 
 ceased by degrees. He had departed without a struggle. 
 
 As the paleness of death swept solemnly over his fea- 
 tures (which, through the whole morning, had been sin- 
 gularly bright, and, one might almost say, grown young 
 again), his face flushed up with a sudden gleam of delighted 
 surprise. The servant, who was standing in front of me 
 at the foot of his bed, broke the stillness by exclaim- 
 ing, " Oh how glorious — how glorious ! Look, sir, look ! " 
 I did not catch his expression at that particular moment, 
 but I heard one of my sisters reply to the appeal, " Yes, 
 our father's spirit was introduced at that instant into the 
 presence of celestial glory." 
 
 When his death became known at Geneva, there was a 
 general mourning among his friends. 
 
 On Tuesday, at two P.M., a large concourse of sym- 
 pathisers came from far and near to pay him their last 
 tribute of respect. The Pastor Theremin conducted the 
 funeral service at tlie house. The bereaved family were 
 represented by the only one of his sons who was still 
 
 J 
 
^ 
 
BENEATH THE JFAFE. 465 
 
 there; another having been summoned home at a time 
 when it was not anticipated that his end was so near. 
 Fifteen ministers— National and Independent, Anglican and 
 Lutheran— gathered round the grave. The son of Malan, 
 who was present, gave a brief address, and offered a 
 prayer, amid the reverent attention of the bystanders. 
 A clergyman present invited the people to join him in 
 singing the following verses of one of Malan's most popu- 
 lar hynms, commencing, "Du Eocher de Jacob," No. 199 
 of the " Chants de Sion :"— 
 
 " C'est pour I'etemit^ que le Seigneur noas aime, 
 Sa grkce en notre coeur jamais ne cessera. 
 
 Alleluia! Alleluia! 
 Car il est notre espoir, notre bonheur supreme ! 
 
 " Notre se'pulcre aussi connaitra sa victoire; 
 Sa voix au dernier jour nous ressuscitera ; 
 
 Alleluia! Alleluia! 
 Pour nous, Ses rachetes, la mort se change en gloire." * 
 
 The hymn over, the throng silently dispersed. 
 
 Malan rests in the cemetery of Vanda3uvres, by the side 
 of his beloved mother whom he had laid there himself in 
 
 The Translator offers the following English version : 
 
 " Ever doth His love enfold us, 
 Ever will His grace uphold us, 
 
 Alleluia ! 
 This our hope and happiness. 
 This our perfect blessedness. 
 Alleluia ! 
 
 " Death, discrowned, can ne'er appal us. 
 From the grave He will recall us, 
 
 Alleluia ! 
 Death to His Kedeemed is life 
 Glory crowns their toil and strife, 
 
 Alleluia !" 
 
 2g 
 
466 LIFE OF CjFSAE MALAN. 
 
 1848, under a cypress wliicli he loved to look at as lie sat 
 on a seat in liis garden, which commanded a distant view 
 of it, and which had consequently become his favourite 
 haunt. My mother has made it hers. Thence she sees 
 the granite block which marks his grave, and which stands 
 out in snowy contrast against the cemetery trees ; while 
 above soars Mont Blanc and that amphitheatre of moun- 
 tains which he, whose absence she mourns, loved to con- 
 template. 
 
 It is her desire that a resting-place may be reserved for 
 her beside that tomb on which, under the vivid impress of 
 the deathbed scene, she has caused to be engraved, in 
 memory of the past life of him who has gone from her side, 
 and in prosj)ect of the blessedness into which he has 
 entered, the following words : — 
 
 CESAR MALAN, 
 Dr en Th. 
 
 7 JuiUet 1787. 
 8 May 1864. 
 
 " Bienlieareux sont les morts qui dorenavant meurent au Seigneur! Oui 
 pour certain, dit I'Esprit, ils se reposent de leurs travaux, et leurs ceuvres 
 les suivent." — Apoc. xiv. 13. * 
 
 I feel, more especially after writing the last fcAv pages 
 which have awakened the most affecting of all my recol- 
 
 * C^SAR MALAN, 
 
 Doctor in Theology. 
 
 7 July 1787. 
 
 8 May 1864. 
 
 " Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord. Even so, saith the Spirit, 
 for they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them." — Rev. 
 xiv. 13. 
 
FABEJFELL, BUT NOT FOR EVER 4G7 
 
 lections, that, in laying down my pen, I am quitting anew 
 the society of one who was to me more than the great and 
 strong-soiiled man, so simple in his faith, his piety, his 
 uprightness, as known to all ; — even the friend of all earthly 
 friends the truest, and of fathers the most devoted. 
 
 l)r jMalan's name will remain blessed in the Church 
 of God. He will never be forgotten among those who have 
 learned to rank high above all other interests " the progress 
 (jf the spiritual Idngdom," which consists pre-eminently in 
 individual regeneration, in personal conversion. Assuming 
 that his immediate sphere of action was very limited, his 
 intluence has made itself felt beyond the limits of the 
 French Churches. 
 
 Yet no mere expression of my feelings or convictions 
 added to the facts I have submitted to my readers, would 
 serve to bring him more vividly before them. I should cer- 
 tainly never have accomplished the task committed to me, 
 — I should have been out of tune with the central thought 
 of the life I have laboured to depict, — if these pages tended 
 to the glory of man. 
 
 On the other hand, we should fail in ascribini;- due 
 honour to God, were we to refuse to recognise, in the man 
 from whom we are now about to separate, that greatest of 
 the living works of the ]Most High, a Christian M'orthy tlie 
 name, and a true confessor of the gospel ; a man wlio, after 
 having put his hand to the plough, never looked back ; a 
 servant heartily faithful to llie uttermost, to all tliat lie 
 knew of his blaster's will. 
 
 And in taking a last look at such a lite, we can Init re- 
 call the words in which the King Himself has declared His 
 purpose to reward His devoted ones. " Well done, good 
 
468 
 
 LIFE OF CjESAB MALAN. 
 
 and faithful servant : tliou liast been faithful in a few 
 things : I will make thee ruler over many things. Enter 
 thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
 For my own part, as I turn away from his hallowed 
 resting-place, I seem to realise more vividly than ever that 
 one thing alone holds its ground. Standing firm amid the 
 ever accumulating ruins swept on by the torrent of the 
 ages, we see the heart constancy of the man who, after hav- 
 ing been led to lay hold on the living God in humble faith, 
 has been enabled to persevere unto the end, in constant 
 service, up to the full measure of his light. 
 
 And I wait in hope for a happy day, when I shall see 
 him again whom I have so long reverenced and loved. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 SANSON AND CO., PRINTERS EDINBURGH. 
 
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