^^««.''*'**'""*«,»,^ 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 BX 9225 .R64 J3 j 
 
 James Robertson of Newingtc^ 
 
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JAMES ROBERTSON OF NEWINGTOK 
 
MORRISON AND GIBB, EDINBDRGH, 
 PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE. 
 
,^___y^/,M:^ (a. J C C^/fj^^ 
 
JAMES EOBERTSON 
 
 OF NEWINGTON. 
 
 H /IDemorial oX bis Xife an^ Morl^. 
 
 If/y/r J PREFACE BY THE LATE 
 Rkv. JOHN KER, D.D. 
 
 N E W YORK: 
 
 ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
 
 530 Broadway, 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 Owing to various circumstances, this Memoir, with 
 other records of Mr. Eobertson's life, has been delayed 
 longer than was at one time expected. But it is 
 believed that those who knew him will open it with a 
 loving interest, and complete in their own memory the 
 portrait which is here faintly sketched. And while it 
 is sadly felt how little words can do to take the place 
 of departed life to those who did not know him per- 
 sonally, it is yet hoped that even by such there may 
 be felt some small measure of that influence for good 
 which was so often experienced from contact with one 
 who was always intent on his great errand, and full 
 of sympathy for the souls of men in his endeavour to 
 win them for his Master. 
 
 The Address on Flowers in the Memoir, and the 
 Sermons to Children subjoined, are given under con- 
 siderable disadvantage. They have been copied from 
 
VI INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 notes partly in shorthand, at times somewhat frag- 
 mentary, and not prepared with a view to publication. 
 The difficulty of transcription has been a hindrance 
 in the way of comparison and selection ; and those 
 who read them will miss the interjected thoughts and 
 breathings which sometimes formed the most striking 
 features in his discourses. Notwithstanding these 
 drawbacks, it has been thought good to give some 
 specimens of his mode of address to children, as 
 whatever came from him bore the stamp of his own 
 heart and spirit. 
 
 A debt of gratitude is due to those friends, men- 
 tioned elsewhere, who have so cordially contributed 
 their individual experience of their intercourse with 
 Mr. Eobertson, to the Eev. Andrew Carter for much 
 valued counsel and help, and to all those who have 
 kindly lent letters, or otherwise aided in the prepara- 
 tion of this volume. 
 
 We deeply mourn that one who had an interest 
 in these pages, and to whom we owe much, is no 
 longer with us. Dr. Ker's sudden call came while 
 this volume was passing through the press. His 
 tender words here will linger with us, while it is some 
 consolation to know that the Christian Church, in 
 her great loss, is not left without what may now be 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. Vll 
 
 regarded as a parting gift of enriching thought from 
 his pen, in other volumes. 
 
 We had hoped that this Memoir would also pass 
 under the .revision of Dr. Eobertson of Irvine ; but 
 the illness which took him from us had set its fatal 
 mark upon him ere the material was ripe for placing 
 in his hands. Thus we have missed the privilege of 
 his counsel and the touch of his delicate hand, which 
 would have been of inestimable value, and the record 
 remains in this sense, as in many others, incomplete. 
 The two brothers — James and William Eobertson^ — 
 who here gave to the Church so beautiful a com- 
 mentary on that word of the apostle, ' There are 
 diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit,' are now 
 reunited in the Church of the firstborn, each taking 
 his own place in the song, each rendering his own 
 particular service. 
 
 M. H. M. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preface, ....... xi 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Home and Parentage, ..... 1 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 Boyhood, ....... 9 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 At Glasgow University, . . . . .18 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Days op Waiting, . . . . . .41 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Divinity Student, . . . . .60 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Preacher and Evangelist, . . . .71 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Ministry in Musselburgh, . . . .84 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Edinburgh — Duncan Street, . . . .112 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. PAGE 
 
 Pastoral Work and Home Life, . . . 146 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Cloud and Sunshine, . . . . .169 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 Grange Road, . . . . . .190 
 
 CHAPTER XI L 
 New Ties and Wider Service, .... 203 
 
 CHAPTER XII L 
 Family Bereavements, . . . . .216 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 'Clouds after Rain,' ..... 236 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Eventide, . . . . . . . 254 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 Home, 277 
 
 Short Sayings, ...... 289 
 
 Extracts from Letters, ..... 299 
 
 Sermons to Children, ..... 309 
 
 Extracts from an Address given at an Annual 
 
 Meeting of the Tract Society in 1873, . . 346 
 
 'Love Divine, all Love Excelling, . . . 350 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 We are glad that this memoir is to come into the 
 possession of the general public. It will be lovingly 
 welcomed by all who had a personal knowledge of the 
 subject of it, and it will help to extend an influence 
 which belongs to those the poet speaks of — 
 
 ' Stillest streams oft water fairest meadows.' 
 
 Few ministries, which have diffused such a healing 
 and fruitful power, have been so noiseless in their 
 course ; and one is reminded of the links of the Forth, 
 on which his native home looked down, winding out 
 and in, calm and seemingly motionless, but all the 
 more bringing refreshment to many a field. 
 
 He belonged to a family remarkable, both in parents 
 and children, for an uncommon degree of Christian 
 devotion and intelligence, with a faculty of sight and 
 feeling peculiar to themselves, and rising in more than 
 one case — in one very specially, still remaining among 
 us ^ — to the vision and faculty divine which is called 
 genius. 
 
 ' The Rev. W. B. Robertson, D.D., who died 27th June 1886. 
 
Xll ' PREFACE. 
 
 A few of the more marked features of the character 
 of the man, and of his ministry, may be of some little 
 service as a summary of what is told in the memoir, 
 and they have this value at least, that they are not so 
 much drawn from it, as that they are the independent 
 witness of one who knew him well for many years. 
 
 The first, and indeed the pervading feature in him 
 was this, that the ministry was the natural and 
 necessary outcome of the man — that the man was 
 constantly the minister. Not that he was thinking 
 of the office, and girding himself up to its duties, still 
 less to its officialism and proprieties, but that he was 
 throughout his life, public and private, the minister 
 of Christ to the souls of men. Made as he was by 
 nature and by grace, his ministry was himself. From 
 the very beginning, when his heart was touched by 
 the grace of the Lord Jesus, he would be nothing else 
 than a Christian minister. In his earliest years his 
 eye was bent on preparation for the ministry, and, 
 when he began it, on to the close of his life, he was 
 occupied in the fulfilment of its service, not apparently 
 l:)y an effort of the will, but by the spontaneous move- 
 ment of his heart. We may reasonably believe that 
 if the labour, which the love to his work gave him, 
 may have in some way weakened his health, in 
 another and higher degree it strengthened it and 
 added to his years. Before he began to preach, and 
 often afterwards, he might say, 'As dying, and behold 
 we live.' An object to live for helped him to keep 
 
PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 hold of life. If there be anything in mind-healing it 
 is that a man should forget himself and go out to 
 some absorbing aim ; and those who saw him at times 
 utterly prostrated, and then rising and ' walking and 
 leaping and praising God,' could not help thinking of 
 the beautiful gate of the temple, and of a greater than 
 Peter, whose eye he had caught and whose hand he 
 had grasped, till the vision of Him and His service, 
 ' out of weakness made him strong.' 
 
 It was this same spirit which gave him the peculiar 
 influence he had with his own people. They felt that 
 he was a minister of Christ, not only when he was in 
 the pulpit, or at the prayer-meeting, but always and 
 everywhere. He could not meet them without leav- 
 ing something behind, which told them what was 
 nearest his heart, and made them feel he was ' watch- 
 ing for souls.' It was not done in any forced or far- 
 fetched way, but by a quiet word or fitting incident, 
 which left a fragrance like the ointment of the right 
 hand — carried about and communicated when his 
 hand touched theirs. He had great skill in this, 
 which belonged, no doubt, to his original character, 
 but which came also from his habitual purpose — ' This 
 one thing I do.' He had become wise in winning 
 souls, from a deep persuasion that he is wise who 
 seeks to win them. And this also made his ministry 
 very wide. More than most he ' walked in wisdom 
 toward those that are without, redeeming the time.' 
 There were very few with whom he came into more 
 
XIV PEEFACE. 
 
 than the slightest contact, who could complain that 
 no man cared for their soul. When he was travelling 
 by railway, or walking in a country road, or entering 
 a house on a casual errand, he was looking out for 
 opportunities for dropping a seed-word. We never 
 heard that any took his speech amiss ; often it happened 
 that he found a place waiting for it. They could not 
 mistake his motive, and they were won by his manner. 
 There are more waiting to be spoken to in this way, 
 if ministers had the courage and the aptitude — if they 
 approached men in a natural human way. He seemed 
 to have the three great requisites — he kept before 
 him his Master's aim, he had a large portion of his 
 Master's spirit, and he had studied his Master's 
 methods. They are all contained in the words of 
 Christ Himself, ' As Thou hast sent me into the world, 
 so have I also sent them into the world.' 
 
 We have put this spirit of his ministry first, because 
 we believe it went through all his work, and gave 
 it its peculiar character. His Christian personality 
 might be described as that of one who was seeking 
 to keep close to the person of Christ, and to bring 
 others to the same position. His preaching was 
 evangelical to the core. The doctrines of the gospe] 
 were present in every fibre and filament of it, but 
 they were never separated from Christ's own person, 
 and thus faith rose into love and reverence and trust. 
 The alabaster box of the heart was broken in His 
 presence, and He was the Master at every feast. The 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 seven golden candlesticks of truth were lighted, but 
 the Lord Jesus was always seen in the midst of them, 
 and His own hand was felt as He said, ' Fear not ; I 
 am He that liveth and was dead ; and behold I am 
 alive for evermore.' The warmth of personal affection 
 with which all the aspects of Christ's life and character 
 were dwelt on, the tone, and look, and manner which 
 said, ' This is my beloved, and this is my friend,' gave 
 to his preaching its distinguishing fragrance and 
 unction. It was in the line of descent from that of 
 Samuel Eutherford, and Andrew Gray of Glasgow, 
 and Thomas Haly burton, and Ealph Erskine, and had 
 their characteristic of the fancy set on fire by the 
 heart, and sparkling and burning with a gleam and 
 glow of originality. Bible histories came out with 
 new life, texts were quoted in connections which 
 revealed new sides of meaning, and figures of crystal- 
 like beauty rose with a sudden surprise, not for 
 ornament, and not elaborated, but to reflect Him 
 whom he wished to commend, and then to pass away 
 before His presence. He was not what is called a 
 philosophical preacher, or logical in the sense of pro- 
 ceeding by links of argument, and so some reckoned 
 liim deficient in unity; but there is a unity of the 
 heart as well as of the mind, the unity of a psalm as 
 well as of a set of syllogisms, and this he had. He 
 brought his hearers into a unison of feeling and 
 impulse, which is surely the great end of preaching. 
 Neither let it be thought that his sermons wanted 
 
XVI PREFACE. 
 
 method. His pearls were not jointed into one another, 
 which would have been against their nature, but they 
 were strung, and arranged in divisions, which had 
 headings, frequently of a very felicitous kind. He 
 was fond of alliteration and antithesis, and this, with 
 his striking illustrations, made his preaching remark- 
 ably memorable. At seasons when strongly moved, 
 all unconscious to himself, his voice rose and fell into 
 a musical cadence, which kept time to his subject, and 
 brought his hearers into closer sympathy. It had 
 come down from the old style of the Secession and 
 Puritan period, if it was not earlier, but it belonged 
 not less to his own emotional nature. 
 
 He had, however, strong affinity for all that is best 
 in the new life of the Church, and especially for 
 interest in the young, one of the most hopeful features 
 of our time. His happy nature and his faculty of 
 illustration fitted him especially for dealing with them. 
 The saying of the old Greek moralist, ' Speak nothing 
 base in the house where there is a child,' was turned 
 by him to a positive precept, Never fail to speak 
 what is loving and Christian. At the sight of the 
 children in the family his eye brightened, and he had 
 them round him, first for their own sakes, and then 
 as the best way of reaching the other members of the 
 household. When he preached in his own church, or 
 indeed anywhere, he always remembered the children's 
 portion, and at intervals he had his entire service for 
 them. In this he was not the first in time, but he 
 
PREFACE. XVll 
 
 did much to make it more general, and to give 
 examples of the best methods of performing it. He 
 was, we believe, excelled by none and equalled by few. 
 It was not merely the fixed attention he secured in 
 large gatherings, for this is only a means — it was the 
 amount of Christian truth he conveyed in the most 
 attractive and impressive manner. In his own church, 
 the portion for the young, sometimes at the close, 
 'sometimes scattered through the service, was not the 
 least valued by the more mature hearers. For brother 
 ministers who assisted him, the request, ' Eemember 
 the lambs,' was seldom forgotten, and was the means 
 of carrying his own spirit into other congregations. 
 The result was that the care of the young in his 
 church, through the Sabbath school, and in the mission 
 district, was a model of Christian work. He breathed 
 his spirit into his people ; he was never happier than 
 when surrounded by his teachers and moving through 
 their classes, and his mind was much employed in 
 ingenious plans for interesting the children in Christian 
 truth, and helping them to remember it. In this 
 respect, like wisdom, ' he found out knowledge of 
 witty inventions.' It would take too long to tell 
 here, but it may be discovered from the memoir, how 
 other branches of work were carried on. He was 
 himself an assiduous visitor to the sick, the bereaved, 
 the lonely ; but there were agencies which penetrated 
 the congregation in all directions, to help them in 
 their trials and guide them in their activities. His 
 
 h 
 
XVlll PREFACE. 
 
 principle was to discover the aptitude of every member 
 for taking share in any of the operations of the church, 
 and to enrol them accordingly. The community was 
 thus like a piece of clock-work with all the wheels in 
 movement, or like a beehive full of the sights and 
 sounds of life. The complaint against many of our 
 Protestant edifices that they are open only on one day 
 of the week and closed all the rest, could not be 
 made against his, or the halls and rooms connected 
 with it. The evening lights and the hum of voices 
 gave token of what was being done for self-improve- 
 ment or work for fellow-men. All this could not be 
 carried on without a strong central fire in the pulpit, 
 and a constant lighting and trimming of the lamps in 
 the departments of action. It spoke to an intensity 
 and to an organizing gift, which do not frequently 
 meet in one. The effect of it was the binding of his 
 people together by a family tie, the production of a 
 kinship of character, and a fulfilment in an unusual 
 degree of the apostolic injunction, ' Not forsaking the 
 assembling together,' and a ' provoking to love and to 
 good works.' 
 
 One thing which struck those who knew him 
 intimately was the constant care he had about his 
 work, and the preparation for it. To furnish provender 
 for the household of faith was not simply the business 
 of the study at set times, but the engrossing occupa- 
 tion of his life. He was never without his note-book 
 and pencil, to jot down thoughts which occurred to 
 
PREFACE. XIX 
 
 him, or incidents which could be turned to profit in 
 sermons, or classes, or even for individuals, in the way 
 of cheer and comfort ; for he really individualized his 
 congregation, and studied how he might be hel]3ful 
 to them one by one. This gave point to his preaching 
 and aim to his prayers, and one could feel that he 
 was truly seeking to learn by heart, and carry out in 
 life, that beautiful first chapter of Philippians, which 
 strikes the deepest chords of the affection a Christian 
 minister should bear to his people : ' For God is my 
 record, how greatly I long after you all in the bowels 
 of Jesus Christ. And this I pray, that your love may 
 abound yet more and more in knowledge and in all 
 judgment ; that ye may approve things that are 
 excellent ; that ye may be sincere, and without offence, 
 till the day of Christ.' 
 
 Before finishing these notices of his public work, 
 it may be right to say a word as to the movements in 
 which he took a share outside his own cono-regation. 
 It may be owned at once that he was not a man of 
 war. He did not take an active place in the battles 
 which gather round great questions in Church or 
 State ; nor was his voice heard much, if at all, in 
 ecclesiastical discussions. He had his decided con- 
 victions, and was not afraid to own them ; and he 
 was very far from the weak narrowness which would 
 condemn Valiant for truth as secular -minded and 
 unspiritual. He had a great esteem for the resolute 
 soldiers who can ' rebuke the multitude of spearmen, 
 
XX PREFACE. 
 
 and put to silence the lips which speak grievous things 
 proudly and contemptuously ; ' but blows and battles 
 were not suited to his temperament, and he was not 
 found sharing in the throng of them. Yet he had 
 plenty of courage in his own way. He could speak 
 a quiet word for a right cause, which went straight 
 to the mark, and he could join, when conscience was 
 at stake, an unpopular movement against any odds. 
 The abstinence cause had no steadier adherent, long 
 before it had taken its place in public approval. 
 He was faithful to it in the face of the smile and the 
 sneer which met it in its youth ; he was a diligent 
 worker in its societies, and an advocate on its plat- 
 forms. He had the work of evangelization at heart 
 in all its forms, and welcomed it where respectable 
 profession might be ready to frown, or to pass by on 
 the other side. It did one's heart good to mark his 
 delight at the discovery of some humble worker for 
 the same Master, on whose track he had fallen, and 
 the quaintness of their expressions and methods, 
 which he would describe with a pleasant humour, 
 seemed to bind them closer to his heart. His sketch 
 of Eobert Flockhart, the Edinburgh street preacher, 
 is a gem of its kind, and that somewhat eccentric 
 herald of the gospel had no warmer friend. The 
 Conferences which it is now the custom for Christians 
 to hold in different parts of the country, were well 
 acquainted with his face and his voice. He visited 
 them as some seek mountain air or sea breezes for 
 
PREFACE. XXI 
 
 exhilaration and bracing. He was one of the first to 
 join Mr. Moody in his apostolic work, and in his visits 
 to Edinburgh he gave valuable aid in dealing with 
 inquirers at his meetings. For this he was peculiarly 
 well adapted. He had deep sympathy with the work, 
 a great affectionateness of nature, a clear and simple 
 way of putting Scripture truth, and a rare knowledge 
 of the human heart when it is stirred by the touch 
 of God's Spirit. Original gift and long experience 
 had made him a spiritual pathologist. With all this 
 — we may say hccmisc of all this — he had great 
 delicacy and wisdom. He knew when to stop at 
 the door within which God asserts His own claim, 
 and how to guide the soul to the presence of its 
 Maker and Lord without himself intruding there. 
 On one occasion when a zealous worker wished to 
 count the cases of conversion, he quietly passed the 
 proposal by, and gave out the psalm which closes — 
 
 ' When God the people writes, He'll count 
 That this man born was there.' 
 
 For many years he continued these activities, and 
 it was surprising to all who knew him, and would 
 have been, at first, to himself, could he have antici- 
 pated it, that a frame originally delicately strung and 
 sensitive, should possess such powers of endurance. 
 But at length it gave way, and the inability to carry 
 on the work, which was the breath of his life, was, 
 in the beginning, a sore trial. About the same time 
 family bereavement fell on him, heavy and repeated. 
 
XXll PREFACE. 
 
 His wife, who had been his strength and solace in all 
 his work, a woman of remarkable wisdom and devout- 
 ness, was taken from him, and three daughters in 
 succession, in the first bloom of a beautiful Christian 
 womanhood. There was hope that the youngest might 
 be spared through the help of a southern climate, and 
 he spent a winter with her at San Eemo in the Italian 
 Eiviera. They were attracted by the prospect of use- 
 fulness : he, in preaching and visiting among the 
 English-speaking residents, and in touching by broken 
 sentences and by hymns the Italian heart — which is 
 beginning there to open to the gospel ; and she, in the 
 aid she might be able to give to the mission through 
 the service of song. The desire, and it was a very 
 deep one, was all she was allowed to give ; ' she did 
 what she could.' Week by week she faded away, in 
 the most beautiful spirit of resignation, and when the 
 bright anemones and all the flowers of spring were 
 on the hills, she died. During this sorrowful time, 
 when deep was calling unto deep, and the fond earthly 
 hope was passing over through the struggle of faith 
 into the heavenly one, he tended her with the one 
 hand, and carried on his work with the other. With- 
 out this preoccupation, he might have sunk entirely, 
 and there is evidence that the words he spoke out 
 of his great trial of affliction were not without the 
 testimony of God's Spirit. He was a comfort to 
 many, and the means of new life to some. He left 
 his daughter there, in the beautiful cemetery among 
 
PREFACE. XXm 
 
 the olive trees, close to the murmur of the Mediter- 
 ranean, with the texts she most loved graven on 
 her tomb, in Italian and English, that she might 
 sjDeak to those who came to look on it, and carry 
 out in death the mission on which she had set 
 her heart. The place is a fit one for the words of 
 the poet — 
 
 ' Sing softly, sjiring bird, for her sake ; 
 
 And tliou not distant sea 
 Lapse lightly, as if Jesus spake, 
 And thou wert Galilee.' 
 
 I saw him at Paris on his way homeward, and have 
 met with few things so touching as the narrative of 
 her long, self-forgetful death-bed, her interest in the 
 work she was not allowed to share, her strong simple 
 faith and bright hope, and the light which these 
 sent up into the sky for him, as he followed in the 
 desolateness of his heart. The anguish he felt was 
 tempered and softened almost to a removal, as he 
 turned his eye to that sunset which had in it the 
 promise of ' a morning without clouds, and a clear 
 shining after rain.' 
 
 We may give a few of the expressions contained in 
 his letters at this time, as an example of his state of 
 mind, and his manner of speech. If, besides those 
 contained in this memoir, a collection of similar 
 sayings could be made from his sermons and addresses, 
 we believe it would be a valuable treasure of Christian 
 experience, containing often ' apples of gold in baskets 
 
XXIV PREFACE. 
 
 of silver.' One of his first letters from San Eemo 
 begins, ' They of Italy salute you.' 
 
 When nearing the New Year, ' Eound the cape of 
 this season, what ships of memory come floating, 
 freighted with loving recollections of those who have 
 reached the desired haven, and the golden city.' 
 
 ' What though our way be hedged on every side 
 with thorns, if it keep us in the way to glory.' 
 
 ' I have been labouring to turn away my eyes from 
 the waves to the Eock.' 
 
 ' Neither sun nor stars for a good long time have 
 appeared, but we are casting out our anchors and 
 longing for the day.' 
 
 ' He walks the billows with us, and we hear Him 
 say. It is I.' 
 
 ' Many a promise written in sympathetic ink we 
 cannot read till the fire of trial brings out the 
 characters.' 
 
 ' The farther we go down the shaft of affliction, the 
 deeper are we led into the gold mines of spiritual 
 experience.' 
 
 ' If Jesus seems to sleep in our vessel. He sleeps 
 with His hand on the helm, and will steer us home- 
 ward.' 
 
 When he returned to Scotland, he could not resume 
 work, in his former place and way, in Edinburgh. 
 His strength had failed for continuous exertion, and 
 the memories that met him brought up too painful 
 contrasts. His home, which had been filled with 
 
PREFACE. XXV 
 
 happy voices, was silent, while every object spoke of 
 his losses, and he had a heart peculiarly sensitive to 
 impressions. He had now a colleague well fitted to 
 carry on the care and work of the church, and he 
 was in that respect free. It belonged to his character 
 that he could not be idle, and he had too high an idea 
 of the purpose for which life is given, to sit down 
 and brood. One remarkable feature of the gospel of 
 Christ is, that while it deepens a man's sensitiveness, 
 it heightens his activity ; the heart has keener sorrows, 
 but more abundant fruits of love. During what re- 
 mained of life he never rested. Sabbath after Sabbath, 
 and week after week, he was found in all parts of 
 the country preaching and teaching, with the special 
 interest he had always taken in the young, now more 
 marked than ever, as if he wished to adopt them all 
 in the room of those he had lost, and build up a larger 
 family for the one that had been broken. It was 
 what an old Puritan has called, ' taking a noble revenge 
 on death for the losses he had suffered at its hand.' 
 He was called away suddenly with his foot in the 
 furrow, his hand on the plough, and his eye bent 
 forward. No two years of a life full of labour were 
 perhaps so fruitful in quickening and comfort to young 
 and old as his last. It will be found, we believe, true 
 of it all, but especially of the close, ' He that goeth 
 forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubt- 
 less come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves 
 with him.' 
 
XXVI PREFACE. 
 
 We can only say again that we are glad these 
 memorials are to be brought under the eye of the 
 Christian public, all the more that his life was to a 
 great extent a hidden one, and his labours not carried 
 on in what are called ' the high places of the field.' 
 That life had such a character that the example and 
 lessons of it should have permanence beyond the 
 memories of those who knew him. To them the 
 record of it will be specially welcome as a fragrance 
 that blossoms from the dust ; but we trust it will 
 reach the hands of many more. To Christian ministers 
 it may be a stimulus to varied and unwearied diligence, 
 and especially to the truth of what Philip Henry says, 
 that ' weeping should not hinder sowing.' It is a 
 great encouragement to all Christians to see that a 
 life of much trial may be a life of deep happiness, 
 ' as sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing.' The poet has said 
 of nature when he compares her spring labour with 
 her autumn fruits — 
 
 ' She sees \\'ith other eyes than ours 
 
 The fruit of suffering born ; 
 The hearts that blossom like her flowers, 
 
 And ripen like her corn.' 
 
 But it is better still to see it exemplified in human 
 lives, and to have a view of the peaceable fruits of 
 righteousness that spring up, not only after, but 
 beside sore afflictions. It is an evidence that while 
 we are moving away from the origin of the gospel in 
 time, we are always as near its spring of power, and 
 
PREFACE. XXVll 
 
 that the Saviour, who left His legacy many centuries 
 ago, is close to those who seek Him, as a personal 
 Friend, to bring home its provisions, ' Peace I leave 
 with you. My peace I give unto you.' The life of 
 James Eobertson is a witness to it. 
 
 John Kek. 
 
' aajljcit tfjcjj fjaU iintti, 3csu5 saitlj to Simon letter, Simon, son 
 of 3onas, lobest tfjou fHc more tijan tijcsc ? |l?c saitfj unto |^im, 
 Ura, ILorU ; STijou Imoiucst tfjat 2 lobe iHjcc. |£jc saitlj unto fjim, 
 JrcB ilHg Iambs. 
 
 ' %]t saitlj to fjtm again tJ}E scronlJ time, Simon, son of Sonas, 
 lobcst tfjou fHc ? |t!e saitlj unto ?ijim, l^ra, EorB ; Cijou fenoiutst 
 tfjat 31 lobe STfjee. p?E saitfj unto ^im, JFeeti ilHg sfjeep. 
 
 'I^e saitij unto Ijim tlje tljirti time, Simon, son of Sonas, lobest 
 tfjou IHEle? Peter bias griebei because |l?e saiU unto Ijim tfjc tfjirti 
 time, Eobest tfjou Mt1 ^nti fje saiti unto |^im, ILortr, ^Cfjou 
 ftnotoest all tijings ; Efjou fenobiest tfjat 2 lobe Ef)«. Sesus saitf) 
 unto fjim, JFeeti fKg sfjeep.' 
 
CHAPTEK I. 
 
 ^amz anb Parentatj£. 
 
 Upwakds of seventy years ago, on a wintry Sabbath 
 morning, a young couple on horseback were seen 
 wending their way down the long sloping road above 
 the field of Bannockburn, and on through the narrow 
 village of St. Mnians, and up the steep romantic walk 
 by the Castle Eock, at the ringing of the bells, to the 
 old historic Church of the Secession, then called the 
 ' Back Eow,' and now ' Erskine Church,' Stirling. It 
 was John Eobertson of Greenhill, with Margaret 
 Kirkwood, his wife, and this was their ' kirkin' ' 
 day. 
 
 Born in the same neighbourhood, each of godly 
 parents of modest worth and unobtrusive piety, ' they 
 grew together side by side,' were brought up in their 
 respective homes under refined and Christian influ- 
 ences, and, ere the bride had completed her twentieth 
 year, they began together, in the fear of God, to 
 establish a home of their own in the quiet house at 
 Greenhill. 
 
 Both are well worthy of remembrance, not only as 
 A 
 
2 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 the parents of James Eobertson, but because of their 
 own sweet and lofty Christian character. We may 
 be pardoned, therefore, if we pause a moment to speak 
 of them, and of the home around which so many 
 hallowed associations have gathered. 
 
 John Eobertson was a native of Auchenbowie, in 
 the parish of St. Ninians, and even when a boy gave 
 evidence of the intellectual ability, the moral strength 
 and firmness of character, and the deep and genuine 
 piety which so distinguished him in maturer years. 
 He studied in the University of Edinburgh, with the 
 intention of entering on one of the learned professions ; 
 but failure of health compelled him to relinquish his 
 favourite pursuits, and return to the quiet rural life of 
 his boyhood, becoming assistant, and afterwards suc- 
 cessor, to his father, as factor on the estates of Plean 
 and Auchenbowie. While diligently attending to the 
 ordinary duties of the business, and well fitted, both 
 by nature and training, for its more scientific depart- 
 ments, his mind was of that contemplative order that 
 rendered him, in the highest and best sense, a ' student ' 
 throughout, and even to the close of his long life. 
 
 In the study of chemistry and mathematics he took 
 peculiar pleasure — especially the higher mathematics ; 
 but it was in the field of theology that his thought 
 and spirit roamed with the rarest delight and liberty, 
 and the home of his heart was ever in the lofty region 
 of spiritual truth. He had his favourite authors, such 
 as Edwards, Foster, Fuller, and Dr. John Brown ; but 
 
HOME AND PAEENTAGE. 3 
 
 he was not satisfied with drawing from human cisterns 
 • — ' he went directly to the fountain-head, and drank 
 from the well of life pure and undefiled.' 
 
 In the winter of 1809 he was married to Margaret 
 Bruce Kirkwood, whose maternal uncle was the Eev. 
 Professor Bruce of Whitburn. She was a woman of 
 peculiarly gentle and amiable manners and disposition, 
 inheriting the genial nature as well as the mild liquid eye 
 of the Bruce family, and in all points was a true ' help- 
 meet ' and ' heir with her husband of the grace of life.' 
 Her quick perceptions, prudent management, and calm, 
 presiding wisdom will not soon be forgotten by those who 
 knew her best — a faithful transcript of Solomon's vir- 
 tuous woman — ' the heart of her husband safely trusted 
 in her, and her children rose up to call her blessed.' 
 
 Little or nothing of the home life in its earliest 
 stage can now be recalled, but some glimpses of it, as 
 seen at a much later date, have been kindly given by 
 one who knew it well — the Rev. James Brown, D.D., 
 of Paisley. He writes : — 
 
 'The immediate surroundings of Greenhill are common- 
 place enough ; but it is in the neighbourhood of historic 
 scenes. It stands on the higher ground that skirts the Carse 
 of Stirling on the south. The field of Bannockburn, with 
 the Gillies' Hill and the Bloody Ford, is but a little way to 
 the north-west ; and the Torwood is as near on the south- 
 east. Indeed, the scenes of all the famous battles in the 
 War of Independence which stretch from Stirling Bridge to 
 Falkirk are within easy walking distance. From the open 
 
4 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ground near the house the grand solid masses of the Ochils 
 can be seen across the Carse, while the airier heights of the 
 South-Western Grampians rise beyond. 
 
 ' Little of the house is visible until you are near it, but 
 there is a small end window upstairs that can be seen from 
 afar, above the hedges and garden trees. In other days 
 it used to be remarked by the neighbours that the light 
 in this window burned long into the night. It was the 
 window of the study, tenanted by one after another in the 
 succession of student sons ; and through the long years, by 
 day and by night, that window seemed to hold out kindly 
 welcome to all of the student tribe who cared to seek shelter 
 under the roof. 
 
 ' There was no respect of persons at that hospitable fireside. 
 The nameless lad, struggling through College and Hall, was 
 received with as much honour and kindness as the popular 
 minister or the learned professor. Every prophet, or son 
 of a prophet, who passed by, was welcome to turn aside, and 
 he failed not to find a " chamber, with a bed, and a table, 
 and a stool, and a candlestick," or to be " constrained to eat 
 bread." 
 
 ' Years after Greenhill had ceased to be the Greenhill 
 I knew so well, I had it vividly brought to mind as I rode 
 through Shunem, on the way from Ayin Ganim to Nazareth ; 
 for there too there was, in ancient days, a homestead at 
 which the man of God was always welcome ; and I remarked 
 that, like Greenhill, it stood on a rising ground over- 
 looking a great plain — the battlefield of Palestine, as the 
 Carse of Stirling is the battlefield of Scotland — and was 
 surrounded by corn-fields, where in harvest there were 
 reapers, and children playing among the sheaves. 
 
HOME AND PAEENTAGE. 5 
 
 ' In the garden, through part of which the visitor reached 
 the front door, I never saw anybody at work, and yet that 
 garden was always in order. It Avas one of the charac- 
 teristics of Greenhill tliat, both Avithin and without, the 
 work seemed to be done quietly and out of sight. There 
 was no bustle, and the harsh sounds of labour were never 
 heard, and yet everything was duly done. The only sound 
 of work that I remember to have noticed Avas the leisurely 
 clip of the " shears " with Avhich Mr. Robertson himself 
 trimmed the garden hedges. It used to float in at my bed- 
 room window with the sweetness of the morning light, and 
 the tAvitter of the birds beneath the eaves. 
 
 ' No one could enter the house without becoming conscious 
 of a peculiar charm. You saAv no signs of Avealth, but there 
 was that atmosphere of refinement Avhich wealth cannot 
 purchase. The furniture Avas plain and simple ; but a little 
 ornament here, and a bit of drapery there, gave to the 
 Avhole an air of lightness and grace. Stillness pervaded 
 the rooms — not the heavy stillness Avhich makes the hours 
 long and the tick of the clock monotonous, but the delightful 
 stillness which brings to jaded nerves a sense of rest. The 
 air that came in at the AvindoAA^s Avas fragrant, and the very 
 light Avas softened. 
 
 ' I have no doubt I am idealizing as I look back through 
 the vista of thirty years ; but the ideal is often the most 
 truly real ; and after all, the air that fills a house is that 
 Avhich is breathed out by the spirit of those Avho dAvcll in it, 
 and the light in Avhich one sees it bathed is that Avhich 
 shines from their eyes. 
 
 ' When I Avent to Greenhill first, the father and mother 
 were still together ; but there Avere already lines on the 
 
6 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 mother's face which betokened their early separation. 
 When I went again her place was empty, and Mr. Kobertson 
 seemed to have gained, through experience of his greatest 
 sorrow, in the sweetness and dignity of nature which had 
 won my reverence from the first. He was an educated 
 man, and in his case the highest end of education — the 
 culture and refinement of the whole nature — had been 
 reached. In his double relations to the men who served 
 him, and to the proprietors whom he served in turn, he so 
 demeaned himself as to win the confidence and affection 
 of both. Everything went smoothly under his moderating 
 hand. None of the farmers or cottars for miles around ever 
 dreamed of carrying their disputes into courts of law. They 
 learned to bring them for settlement to Mr. Eobertson, or 
 to his son Andrew, who grew up to be associated with him 
 in his work, and to share his spirit. 
 
 ' But it was not education only that made Mr. Eobertson 
 the man he was. His "higher education" was the educa- 
 tion of the spirit, carried on under Divine teaching, in the 
 closet, at the family altar, in the " Back Kow " Church, and 
 throughout his whole life. I never understood how much 
 the life at Greenhill, and all that went forth from it to 
 enrich and ennoble the life of the Church, were indebted 
 to the pulpit ministrations at Stirling, until I read a volume 
 of sermons by Dr. Smart. In these sermons the poetry 
 of Christian doctrine, and the comjirehensive, far-reaching 
 morality of the Christian life, are set forth with an eloquence 
 that must have laid hold of the minds of hearers, and had 
 a powerful influence in moulding their character. When 
 such seed fell upon such good ground as was in the Green- 
 hill family pew, it could not fail to bring forth fruit after 
 
HOME AND PARENTAGE. 7 
 
 its kind ; for even genius is not independent of the influence 
 of early teaching. 
 
 'Mr. Kobertson had some favourite themes on which he 
 delighted to dwell. Chief of these was the need there is 
 for a higher ideal of the Christian Church. He thought 
 the terms of communion in all the Churches were too easy. 
 He would, even at the risk of fewer going in, have had the 
 gate made str alter and the way made narrower — not straiter 
 and narrower through the setting forth of a less universal 
 love, but through the demand for surer signs of living faith. 
 He could not accept the general interpretation of the parable 
 of the Tares, and was accustomed to insist — against, it must 
 be admitted, accepted theories of Church discipline — that 
 it is in " the field " which " is the world " — not the field 
 which is the Church — that the tares and the wheat should 
 be permitted to grow together until the harvest. I remember 
 his pleasure when some Moderator of Synod — I think it was 
 Dr. Robson — gave, in his opening sermon, what Mr. Robert- 
 son believed to be the true interpretation of the " gold, the 
 silver, and the precious stones," and of the " wood, hay, and 
 stubble," in St. Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians. He held 
 that they signified worthy and unworthy Church members, 
 and that the apostle was pointing to the peril of admis- 
 sion on a mere " credible profession." 
 
 ' I think I never knew a man who so fully realized the 
 idea of " walking with God " as did Mr. Robertson. He set 
 the Lord always before him ; and so it seemed as if there 
 might have been written over his doorway, "This is none 
 other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." 
 The talk at his fireside, ever quiet and refined, was of 
 all subjects of human interest — of literature, of politics, of 
 
8 • JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ecclesiastical affairs ; and yet one always felt, when it was 
 over, as if one had been reading the Beatitudes, or listening 
 to St. Paul's chapter in praise of "charity."' 
 
 A few well-weighed words of the late Eev. J. 
 Steedman, the pastor of his later years, may not 
 ' unfitly close this chapter : — - 
 
 ' His was not the thin and feeble nature which affords 
 no ground for the anchorage of strong convictions. On 
 religious matters his opinions were formed with peculiar 
 caution, and held with a firm grasp. Although liberal and 
 tolerant of other men's opinions, he Avas not one of those 
 liberals who are "tossed about with every wind of doctrine," 
 "ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge 
 of the truth ; " or tolerant of all religious opinions as 
 equally true and safe. Those called "Evangelical" were 
 graven on his heart as with a pen of iron and the point of a 
 diamond.' 
 
OHAPTEK II. 
 
 1816-1828. 
 
 Such were the influences under which James Eobert- 
 son's childhood and youth were moulded. It is to be 
 regretted that the page of his early life is nearly blotted 
 out, since they are gone who could so well have given it. 
 
 We believe he was born in the spring of 1816. 
 The day is uncertain. 
 
 His mother used to say that of all her fourteen 
 children, James, who was the fourth, was the tiniest 
 and feeblest, and the least likely to live beyond the 
 days of infancy. His twin-brother John, a strong, 
 healthy child, about wdiom there was no anxiety, 
 was taken off by sudden illness when only a few 
 months old, while the tender James struggled on 
 through weakness into strength, giving the parents 
 cause to sing of mercy as well as of judgment. 
 
 As his childhood developed he was peculiarly unlike 
 other children. The common routine of toys and play 
 had no charms for him. His one toy was a pulj)it, 
 and his one game preaching. As soon as he was old 
 
10 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 enough to be taken to church, what he saw there was 
 faithfully enacted at home, and became the business 
 of the week. The rostrum chosen was usually the 
 top of a ' dyke,' that the servants working about might 
 be within hearing ; while his elder brother Andrew, 
 with that characteristic modesty and love of the lower 
 room which distinguished him through life, acted the 
 ' beadle ' or ' precentor ' as occasion required. The 
 youthful preacher was always careful to secure his 
 subordinate with cords or reins, so that there might 
 be no chance of escape until the service — usually a 
 long one — was concluded. 
 
 A small tragedy, however, brought this conjunction 
 of affairs to a sudden termination. 
 
 James had been taken one day to a church in the 
 neighbourhood, in which the minister had resorted to 
 the familiar mode of touching the precentor on the 
 head when he wished him to sit down, the psalm 
 having been thought too long to sing to the end. 
 This was of course observed by the child, who pondered 
 in silence over its meaning ; and, before reaching home, 
 he had come to the conclusion that the minister had 
 knocked the precentor down ! This ivas something 
 new, and must be acted immediately. So Andrew 
 was summoned, and pinioned even tighter than usual. 
 The 119th Psalm was given out. But before two 
 verses were accomplished, down came the little fist 
 with incredible force on the unsuspecting head below ! 
 
 The rest we need not relate. It was too much 
 
BOYHOOD. 1 1 
 
 even for Andreiu, and from that time James had to 
 look about for another precentor. 
 
 As he grew, his ruling passion grew with him, and, 
 through his winning ways, he succeeded in coaxing 
 some of the servants to erect for him, in a corner of 
 the garden, a real wooden pulpit, of true orthodox 
 size and form. This was a great joy to him, and a 
 treasure he was eager to show to all visitors who came 
 to the house. The poet's saying that ' the child is 
 father of the man,' true in many cases, was certainly 
 true in his ; and there, many years after, in his student 
 days, and even beyond them, did that same pulpit 
 become the centre of large gatherings of young people 
 from the surrounding district, on Saturday afternoons, 
 to hear from his lips the ' wonderful words of life.' 
 
 At the age of seven, he was sent to the village 
 school of Dunipace, whence, three years later, he 
 passed to the higher tuition of the late Eev. Archibald 
 Browning of Tillicoultry, whose name as a high-class 
 teacher was at that time widely known. It was not 
 without a pang of anxiety that the mother saw her 
 tender, sensitive child go from her, to keep abreast 
 with boys several years older than himself, and in a 
 school in which study was study and not play. 
 
 The following is from the pen of Mrs. Smith, widow 
 of the late Eev. William Smith of Bannockburn, and 
 daughter of Mr. Browning : — 
 
 'For some years prior to 1826 my father was beginning 
 to be known, beyond the district of Tillicoultry, as a very 
 
12 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 thorough teacher, and pupils were attracted to his school 
 without the modern expedient of flaming advertisements. 
 Tillicoultry in those days was but a hamlet, composed of 
 two or three handloom factories by the side of the stream, 
 a feAv straggling houses, the parish church and school, and 
 the Secession meeting-house. 
 
 ' The system of teaching adoj^ted by my father was 
 unique, and far in advance of those days. His great aim 
 seemed to be in the case of every pupil to awaken and 
 stimulate thought and beget a love of learning, and to 
 inspire a purpose of becoming a useful and intelligent 
 member of society. Ten hours a day were devoted to school 
 work in the school-room ; but of this only a very small 
 portion was set apart to the mere " saying " of lessons. The 
 greatest portion of the day was employed by the teacher 
 in explaining and making easy to be understood, by attentive 
 listeners, the lessons for the succeeding day. It must be men- 
 tioned here that strictness was a necessary accompaniment of 
 such a system. No excuse whatever obtained against full pre- 
 paration, when the lessons came to be, in school phrase, said. 
 
 ' James Robertson was in every respect from the first what 
 may fairly be termed a model pupil. I cannot recall a single 
 instance, in his case, of rebuke for careless or imperfect 
 work. It was about the year 1826 that he entered school, 
 and his appearance then was that of a very slight, delicate, 
 sensitive boy, of pale countenance, with large expressive 
 eyes and fair hair, well brushed back from a broad forehead. 
 During the two school sessions he studied English, History, 
 Latin rudiments and grammar — translating portions of Caesar, 
 Ovid, Horace, and Virgil — Greek grammar, and translating 
 the Greek Testament. The text-books for the study of 
 
BOYHOOD. 13 
 
 English literature were Milton's Paradise Lost, Bunyan's 
 Pilgriin's Progress, and the Bible History of the Jews, with 
 the Life of Christ from the New Testament. In each of 
 these subjects he was always very carefully prepared. 
 
 ' He was seldom seen in the playground but as a spectator. 
 His favourite pastime was reading voluntarily some standard 
 author under the shade of the trees. Being very gentle in 
 disposition, and too fragile in frame to indulge in rough 
 games, he took no part in such. It is not usual that a pupil 
 so constituted becomes a favourite with his fellow-scholars, 
 but there was in his manner and conduct a kind and winsome 
 earnestness that overcame all opposition. When any request 
 for a half-holiday — to ramble on the hills, or by the side of 
 the Devon — had to be presented, he was frequently the 
 deputy selected, and was invariably successful. 
 
 ' On "Wednesday afternoons there was a slight change in 
 the school routine. All were required to write a letter or 
 an essay. These terms do not convey the distinction in the 
 task which now might be inferred. A letter of fifty years 
 ago was far more nearly analogous to a school essay of to-day, 
 than might at first sight appear to the everyday letter-writer 
 of 1886. 
 
 ' The best specimens were read aloud in the evening before 
 the household. ISTot infrequently those of James Robertson 
 were amongst the selected specimens. When time per- 
 mitted, a recitation followed. 
 
 'The literature of that period for the young was very 
 scanty, and generally poor. It is therefore not surprising 
 that PoUok's Tales of the Covenanters were eagerly read 
 and much prized. James seemed to be deeply impressed 
 with them, and when his turn came to recite, he determined 
 
14 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 to repeat the story of " Helen of the Glen." His recitation 
 of that tale is still vivid in my memory. He delivered it 
 with such power and tenderness, that several of the auditors 
 were in tears. This effect, produced by a boy of about 
 eleven years of age, exemplifies his ability of awakening 
 sympathy and arousing feeling, developed in his after career 
 to such prominence and power. 
 
 'He was compelled to leave school shortly after this 
 episode, on account of ill-health, before his second session 
 terminated. Shortly afterwards, when I visited Greenhill, 
 I found him, though much of an invalid, following the 
 system initiated in Tillicoultry, in the case of his brothers 
 and sisters, and this of course when he was yet a boy, not 
 old enough to enter the higher forms of the modern High 
 School.' 
 
 Some of the letters to which Mrs, Smith refers as 
 ' nearly analogous to a school essay,' are still preserved. 
 They are in a formal style of composition, and written 
 in a beautiful hand, most correctly. Addressed to his 
 brother Andrew at a time when they were not at 
 school together, and treating, essay-like, of some par- 
 ticular subject, they show the unmistakeable leanings 
 of the boy's mind, and his measuring earthly things 
 by their relation to things unseen, at this early period, 
 when from ten to twelve years of age. 
 
 Another member of Mr. Browning's household, an 
 old servant, remembers the arrival of James and 
 Andrew at her master's house, and that the fragile 
 look of the former attracted her at once. She repeats 
 
BOYHOOD. 15 
 
 Mrs. Smith's testimony that James, making good use 
 of his time, and being nervously anxious over his 
 lessons, could always say them, and quite satisfied 
 Mr. Browning ; and adds that an essay he wrote on 
 ' Eiver Scenery ' was thought such a marvellous 
 production for a boy of his years, that Mr. Browning 
 was proud to read it over to all visitors. 
 
 Our informant envied the boys their education, and 
 was greatly interested in any lessons she heard ; and 
 nothing pleased her better than to take her stool into 
 the school-room, in the evening, to hear the boys 
 repeat, in their own words, a story which they had 
 read, and which Mr. Browning gave as an exercise, to 
 enable them to express themselves fluently. To James 
 it was one which suited both his taste and talent, and 
 his stories were for the most part so touching, and so 
 graphically told, that she frequently applied her apron 
 to her eyes. 
 
 While at this school he had a slow fever, and to 
 her was delegated ' the pleasant task ' of attending to 
 his wants during the night. He was so pleased to see 
 her that he would lie long awake, talking principally 
 on religious subjects, and his experience was such, she 
 thought him ' the maist winderfu' laddie ' she had ever 
 seen. Now and again he broke in with, ' Jenny, I 
 know you have to be up early, and I'm vexed to keep 
 you wakin', but I just like to have somebody to 
 crack tae.' 
 
 Their respect was mutual, and he would have her 
 
16 ' JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 to Greenhill, to see his home and people. She spent 
 a night there, and remembers vividly the respectful 
 bearing of all the workmen to the young boy. Much 
 to her regret, he left Tillicoultry before she did, but 
 the friendship formed so early he did not allow to 
 drop. Many a kindly visit he paid to her, in her own 
 house, in after years. 
 
 To this period of school life James was accustomed 
 to refer, in after days, as a very happy and profitable 
 one ; and he, as well as his brother Andrew, retained 
 throughout life a warm affection for their old master. 
 
 Eight years later we find him writing of having 
 'spent two happy days in Tillicoultry, and found 
 enough in his old master to indicate the purest ore of 
 human excellence ; ' adding, ' No man needs go thither 
 who wishes to forego the human prerogative of 
 laughter.' And again : ' Mr. Browning, who has been 
 with us, possesses a mind of uncommon power. While 
 others are passing on slowly, step by step, he can leap 
 at once to the conclusion — quick-sighted to discern 
 truth afar, and logical in the arrangement of his 
 thoughts. They are all great thoughts too, and when 
 they struggle forth in their native, unadorned grandeur, 
 there is a nervousness in his speech, which vastly more 
 than compensates for the want of the beauties of a 
 highly polished diction.' 
 
 Some years further on, and shortly before Mr. 
 Browning's death in 1858, Mr. Eobertson went to see 
 him. He found him in bed, and surrounded not by 
 
BOYHOOD. 17 
 
 pillows, but by hooks ; the only portion of the man 
 visible being the large wonderful head, which, in 
 form, has been compared to that of Luther or Robert 
 Hall. 
 
 They had not met for years, and it was touching to 
 observe how the old man's eye melted at sight of his 
 old pupil, and how tenderly he embraced him as if he 
 had been his son. 
 
 Mr. Eobertson was going on to express regret at 
 finding him cohere he was — fearing he was ill — when 
 the reply came with all the ring of health : ' III ! man, 
 I never was better all my life ; but I just wanted 
 to make a good sermon, and I always come here when 
 I want to do that.' 
 
CHAPTEK III. 
 
 at ^lasgofa) ^Entbcrsitu. 
 1828-1833. 
 
 Having returned home from Tillicoultry in the summer 
 of 1828, he began his studies at Glasgow College, in 
 the month of October of that year, joining the Latin 
 and Greek classes when he was but twelve years of age. 
 For four years he studied Greek under Sir Daniel K. 
 Sandford, whom he warmly admired, and whose death 
 in 1837 he truly lamented, as that of one ' who had 
 the power of attaching a class to himself and to its 
 work, in a manner that will never be forgotten Ijy the 
 thousands that attended on his instructions, who would 
 feel his loss as that of a brother and a friend.' 
 
 During his first winter at college, while still so 
 young, he was interesting himself in the improvement 
 of the younger ones at home, and we find one of these, 
 a sister, aged nine or ten, who died early, writing a 
 letter of the Tillicoultry type, and fulfilling in it a 
 promise she had made him to ' turn some sentences of 
 the Economy of Himian Life another way.' 
 
 Having, during his college years, met a youth from 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 19 
 
 Edinburgh, who was visiting friends in the neighbour- 
 hood of Greenhill, their casual acquaintance ripened 
 into a warm Christian friendship. The young man 
 died early, but James Robertson's letters to him were 
 carefully preserved by his friends. They are unusually 
 mature for a lad of fourteen or fifteen, and are written 
 in a deferential tone that belonged to his nature and 
 training and modest estimate of himself, with the 
 scrupulous exactness of the Tillicoultry tuition, and in 
 a style which was too formal for his own original 
 tastes, but which he soon learned to modify when he 
 sought how best to tell effectively on his fellow-men, 
 and to find the most direct way to their hearts for his 
 message of love and mercy and righteousness. Still, 
 whatever of the formal bound him in his modes of 
 expression in these letters, they are the true outcome 
 to his friend of his likings and aspirations. We give 
 a few extracts : — 
 
 ' 28th April 1830. 
 
 ' .... In the logic class there is no riding in imitation of 
 Don Quixote on an old, lean, raw-boned and lazy horse like 
 Rosinante. If one would rise above mediocrity there, he 
 must provide himself with such a fiery charger as may be 
 seen pricking up his ears — snorting, pawing, kindling into 
 foam and rejoicing in his strength when he smelleth the 
 battle afar off. During the last two months I have often 
 been sleepless for more nights than one in succession. But 
 I flatter myself with the prospect of soon running away from 
 the hurry and inquietvide of class study, and Avith hope of 
 
20 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 getting rid of all the headaches and odious giddiness which 
 they have entailed. . . . 
 
 ' Let lis value praise and honours less on their own account 
 than on account of the pleasure they give to those whom we 
 
 love Well shall it he for us, my dear friend, if, 
 
 recollecting how on the longest habits of the strictest inti- 
 macy, and 
 
 " On our fii-mest resolutions, 
 The silent and inaudible tread of Death 
 Steals like a thief," 
 
 we are seeking to make Him our Friend Avho "sticketh 
 closer than a brother ; " and if, alive to the unstable nature 
 of what men call philosophy, we are striving to become 
 initiated in that heavenly wisdom, the depths of Avhich are 
 to be sounded by no human plummet-line. . . . Do not be 
 long of gratifying me with a letter, and let us often enjoy 
 that sort of spiritual communion, in which minds alone — 
 unembarrassed by the presence of the body — seem to mingle.' 
 
 ' 30th October 1830. 
 ' . . . . You see I am agam moored in this great Babel 
 — within the jurisdiction of the moonlike sun. . . . Our 
 progress has hitherto been Avavering and slow, like the 
 forced pace of a ^^ shuffling nag" rather than the flight of 
 Pegasus. I trust, however, that when we come to be 
 "sounding on our dim and perilous way," Avith a load of 
 anxiety on the mind, I shall duly appreciate and follow your 
 well-timed memento, not to dissolve the pearl of health in 
 the cup of an overweening eagerness. . . . You will pro- 
 bably know of the honour conferred on Professor Sandford 
 last week, viz. that of knighthood. "We have some good 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 21 
 
 reason to suppose that he will not regard the appointment as 
 a mere honorary title ; and after all, perhaps it is chiefly for 
 us to be mindful that the glory of great names can neither 
 clothe an institution with respectability, nor maintain its 
 usefulness, unless attentiveness to their precepts and the 
 self-denying spirit of scholarship animate the students, 
 
 ' I have entered on the study of mathematics. Really it 
 seems to be one broad realm of iron and frost. The thought 
 of passing through the class is not unlike the prospect of a 
 journey over glaciers and Alps. ^ But we "reckon without 
 our host," I daresay, if we lay not our account to meet with 
 difficulties at the commencement of any new pursuit. Yes ; 
 and while filling our heads with the phantasmagoria of these 
 sciences and books, I feel more and more — and I am sure 
 you do the same — that we tread on slippery ground, and 
 that it requires no small share of caution to make our ven- 
 ture safe. My dear Daniel, I cannot avoid the suspicion 
 that every step towards the acquisition of literary knowledge 
 may possibly be a retrogression from objects of inconceivably 
 higher concern, and that while the heart is gladdened at the 
 prospect of success, it may unwittingly be endeavouring to 
 "serve two masters." . . . Dangers, full surely, there are, 
 which, if contracted, may more or less cling to us through 
 life, but from which let us "rejoice together" that by a 
 gracious influence our God can effectually defend us. 
 
 ' . . . Though the rabbit is a helpless, amiable, and inno- 
 cent creature, I doubt not but that it will prove somewhat 
 " troublesome " at times ; yet, after it has confided itself so 
 long to your keeping, it would be almost a violation of the 
 laws of hospitality to maltreat or expel it ! I hope it will 
 gradually become more tractable and grateful ; and indeed, 
 
22 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 the gentle usage of such animals is an indication of kindly 
 feelings, at least the diversion is an exercise of humanity ; 
 and in these days when men take a licence for wantonly 
 inflicting pain on poor animals, this humanity is almost a 
 virtue. You recollect Cowper's three leverets. ... I trust 
 that, though distant from you, I shall yet live in your recol- 
 lection, — I shall add, in ijour prayers. Such a remembrance 
 is greatly needed, and will ever be highly esteemed, and 
 gladly returned b}', my dear Daniel, yours most affectionately, 
 
 'J. K.' 
 
 '26th Jan. 1831. 
 
 ' . . . For my OAvn part, although the good-natured old 
 countenance of snow -crowned Christmas is exceedingly 
 desirable, its smiles of ease and relaxation have something 
 of the same effect on me that the reading of a novel has. 
 The fictions of the novel 7nay perha^os answer well enough 
 for lounging away an hour on a sunny afternoon; they 
 may he a very good subject to talk about ; but they scarcely 
 make the student go and sit down " heart and hand " to his 
 work. He would rather go back again and lounge — and talk 
 that day — and the next day — and the day after that. I am 
 aware that you are fairly out of the way of such a misfor- 
 tune, though I am so subject to it. I fear I have yet to 
 learn the ru.diments of firmness. 
 
 ' The full tide of excitement will have again set in with 
 you. It has so with us. It is a tide of words and phrases 
 "signifying little;" and yet we must just let ourselves be 
 drifted along by it. How desirable to be in such a state of 
 feeling that we shall be neither elated by success, nor fretted 
 by disappointment. 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 23 
 
 ' . . . I intended to tell you some things about a certain 
 odd character with whom I have become acquainted of late. 
 He is of the seed of Abraham — a Jewish rabbi of the tribe 
 of Levi, I have commenced the study of Hebrew with 
 him ; but I have sometimes a tete-a-tete with him on other 
 subjects for hours. Alas ! if the heart were to be mended 
 Avithout any regard to the Spirit's agency, these poor " lost 
 sheep of the house of Israel " might be the last on whom we 
 needed bestow our pains,' 
 
 His letters at this period to his brother Andrew are 
 of course less formal. 
 
 'Glasgow, Nov, 10, 1831. 
 
 ' Surely the tendency to run into extremes is itself an 
 extreme. At least if you saw the motley groups, that " hold 
 their petty parliaments, and say their little speeches, and 
 move their little motions," in the college courts every hour of 
 the day just now, asserting their respective claims and pri- 
 vileges, and struggling against what they style violation, you 
 would make yourself merry at the expense of their oratorical 
 valour. Cockburn and Hume are undoubtedly to be the 
 leading candidates. There is still a faction of ultra principles 
 — puffing and blowing like the frog in the fable to make 
 herself like an ox. It is not for me to prophesy, but the 
 probabilities are on the side of Cockburn, " Questionless " 
 (as - — - would say) he is a gentleman of splendid and well- 
 earned reputation. 
 
 ' . . . The annual Temperance Convocation takes place on 
 the first of December, The preparations are great, and they 
 mean to have a concentration of influential names — a galaxy 
 of talent. Please come and see, . , . Mr. S. preached the 
 
24 JAMES EOBERTRON. 
 
 monthly discourse on Monday evening. There was a great 
 cluster of the clergy among the audience. I will not say 
 that he did not " hring against them a railing accusation." 
 I think he said enough to disarm the most wrong-headed 
 Philistine. " The most noxious, loathsome reptile that 
 pollutes the ground it crawls upon is a lovely and respectable 
 creature compared with the slave of strong drink. He 
 degrades himself far beneath the dignity of a beast that 
 perisheth." So much for a sample. . . . Tell me how you 
 are all tugging at the Temperance oar.' 
 
 ' . . . Now what have I to tell you other or better than 
 that there is with a vengeance free discussion of "jesting 
 Pilate's " query : " "WHiat is truth ? " now. There was so on 
 Monday night. Could my wishes have been seconded by 
 the fabled cap of Fortunatus, I would have had you trans- 
 ported to the spot where I was — delighted and penetrated 
 and subdued by the savour that was coming from off that 
 platform. . . . 
 
 ' We are likely to have some rare Voluntary and Temperance 
 concerns at that time (the Synod). . . . Dr. Brown will be 
 elected beyond a doubt, and what a magnificent man he is ! 
 He gave us a rare assemblage of excellencies and beauties on 
 the day of our recent sacramental occasion here. Solid and 
 brilliant and exquisite. If he be promoted I doubt not but 
 that on his account " the thanksgiving of many shall redound 
 to the glory of God." ' . . . 
 
 As liis first session at college approached its close, 
 we find him deploring, as was like him, the ' petty 
 jealousies and heartburnings in which the students 
 became immersed — -each repining at the success of an 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 25 
 
 antagonist — each blessing himself if others miscarried.' 
 He regretted the ' feelings dictated by envy — " at once 
 the justest and most unjust of passions," ' — as being 
 ' like so many gnats fixing themselves upon the soul.' 
 
 In a spirit similar to this, and unlike the usual 
 views of youth, he remarks, elsewhere, at the same 
 period : ' "We shall very fatally err, I think, in involv- 
 ing ourselves in the mazes of opinion or the heats of 
 controversial warfare.' How characteristic all this is 
 of the spirit of his life, those who knew him best can 
 testify. 
 
 He wrote : ' I was asked recently if I really meant 
 to be a minister of the gospel, and my answer was, that 
 I would need to keep " silence," as there was " in heaven 
 for the space of half-an-hour," before I could give a 
 satisfactory reply.' It was certainly his secret wish, 
 but he doubted his fitness for it. He realized that it 
 needed a deep acquaintance with one's own heart, and 
 an influential acquaintance with God the Saviour, to 
 feed the flock ' which He hath purchased with His own 
 blood,' and he wanted evidence that God had need of 
 him. 
 
 This deep acquaintance with his own heart and 
 with God the Saviour was largely given to him, 
 through the exercises of a sensitive spirit, under the 
 teaching of the Divine One, and by the discipline of 
 God's providence, in the years that followed, that he 
 might be qualified to be ' a workman ' who would 
 ' rightly divide the word of truth.' Of this period we 
 
26 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 have happily a record in his own words, upon which 
 what follows of his experience during the next eight 
 years is chiefly based. 
 
 Although, as is seen from the foregoing letters, etc., 
 his leanings from his childhood were unmistakeably 
 towards God and things spiritual, it seems clear that 
 up till his sixteenth year he had not such a grasp of 
 saving truth, nor such a sense of Divine forgiveness, 
 as satisfied his own mind ; and that he was greatly 
 troubled about it. He knew theoretically the answer 
 to the question, ' How shall man be just with God ? ' 
 but had no persuasion that he was in such a case as 
 this, and was longing, like most young souls in con- 
 cern, ' for a conscious touch of the Divine new- 
 creating hand,' and for some firm and satisfactory 
 basis for his hope. 
 
 During the spring of 1832, both when at college in 
 Glasgow and afterwards at home, it is believed that he 
 passed through such an experience as brought him to 
 the discovery that it was vain to look within for 
 grounds of his hope of salvation, and that his trust 
 must be outward and upward. 
 
 The ministry of the Baptist — the forerunner of 
 Christ, and preparer of His way — led to conviction of 
 sin, and to the earnest question, ' What shall we do 
 then ? ' A subject of such preparatory teaching, 
 James Eobertson was brought to see himself ' a sinner 
 and led captive by Satan in the vexatious stirrings 
 of self-love, pride, unbelief, formality in devotion, 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 27 
 
 and the atheistical principle in his heart, as truly as 
 if he had been guilty of gross sins.' While he had 
 the esteem of friends around for his apparently con- 
 sistent Christian character, and while he was seeking 
 the living God ' with all his heart,' and hoping in His 
 mercy, he was making growing discoveries of his own 
 unworthiness, of richly-merited wrath, and of his in- 
 ability to do more than weep over the worldliness of 
 an evil heart ; but this sentence of death in himself 
 taught him effectually henceforth not to trust in 
 himself, but in Him who not only wept over Lazarus 
 dead, but spoke the word that brought the dead to life. 
 
 All the humbling experience of what he called this 
 ' solemn critical era,' made it ' unchanging Marah ' to 
 him for a time. All was probably aggravated by 
 partial infirmity of liealth and dread of death in an 
 unprepared state. 
 
 He tried to oppose his wrong views of God by 
 God's statements about Himself, who said, I am the 
 ' Help ' of self-destroyed Israel ; till the joyful words 
 of the Psalmist began to find an echo in his heart : 
 ' Blessed is the man (oh, the blessednesses of the 
 man !) whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is 
 covered.' 
 
 His argument was : 
 
 * My sins " reach unto the clouds," but " Thy 
 mercy, Lord, is in the heavens ; " my necessities 
 drive me to the God whose mercy sweetly constrains 
 me to come.' 
 
28 JAMES; ROBERTSON. 
 
 In that ' evangelical penitence ' which ' consists,' 
 as an old divine says, ' in having the heart broken for 
 sin and from sin,' we have good ground to believe that 
 he learned for himself what was the spirit of his 
 teaching to anxious ones afterwards, that ' while in 
 our contrition we bemoan ourselves, we may shed the 
 tear on the Saviour's breast/ 
 
 ' A seeking sinner and a seeking Saviour will soon 
 meet.' Taught so deeply his need, willing to be the 
 new-created ' workmanship ' of God — these leading to, 
 and issuing in, the gradual seeing of the truth that 
 met his need, with its message of a possible, great, 
 complete salvation, — no wonder it became the joyful, 
 irrepressible theme of his life. It was a persuasion 
 graven on his experience ' with a pen of iron and the 
 point of a diamond,' and it found favourite utterance 
 in his ministrations in the oft-repeated saying : ' Does 
 light suit the eye ? does music suit the ear ? does the 
 key fit the lock ? not half so well as this blessed 
 gospel fits every chamber of the human heart.' 
 
 Brought low enough to accept salvation as a ' gift,' 
 he knew well how to place himself side by side with 
 those who, in after years, were the objects of his loving 
 concern, and with an entire absence of all air of 
 superiority in addressing a ' fellow-sinner,' to make 
 his appeal on the old footing : ' We believe that 
 through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ we shall 
 be saved, even as they.' 
 
 It is told that on one occasion it was his use of 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 29 
 
 the word ' fellow-sinner ' in his sermon that was the 
 means of leading to a saving change in one of his 
 audience. 
 
 Emerging from doubt and conflict into a believing 
 hope of full and final conquest, we find him now 
 saying : ' When the foe is foiled and repulsed, and 
 utterly confounded for ever, all the comfort of the 
 victory is ours, but all the glory shall be Thine, 
 blessed Lord, world without end.' 
 
 ' The worth of a visit of Christ's salvation is 
 beyond all rhetoric to tell,' but this he knew — and 
 often the testimony was heard from his lips, in such 
 words as these : ' It can sweeten a bitter cup and 
 make a sweet cup the sweeter ; and in the experience 
 of a multitude, which no man can number, has it 
 smoothed and sweetened the passage through the 
 valley of humiliation, and the valley of death, into 
 the eternity beyond.' 
 
 In June 1832, at the age of sixteen, he saw his 
 way, with much evident distrust of self, to venture the 
 open confession of Christ, by joining the church of his 
 parents in Stirling, thus publicly and solemnly avowing 
 the Lord to be his God. It was no light occasion to 
 him. The consequences and bearings of it were not 
 done with him when the solemnities were past, but 
 stretched into eternity, and he reckoned himself, more 
 than ever, in the hands of a faithful Creator and 
 Saviour, whom it was noiu his purpose to serve in the 
 Gospel of His Son. 
 
oO JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 His ' home and its delightful retirement ' was 
 much prized by him, as yielding most ample facilities 
 for improvement. His absence never estranged or 
 weaned him from the domestic circle, to which his 
 affections clung with increasing earnestness ; and he 
 delighted in its store of strengthening and sweetening 
 considerations. 
 
 At the end of his college session he was very ready 
 for its refreshment and invigoration, of which he 
 stood greatly in need ; but far from spending too 
 much of his leisure on his necessary restful prepara- 
 tion for future labour, he, with his liabitual shrinking 
 from the misuse of time, set at once about carving 
 out present work for himself and others. 
 
 Whilst he valued and honoured his parents the 
 more as life advanced, they, on their part, showed 
 their implicit confidence in him, by committing to 
 his hands, when at home, the education and general 
 charge of the younger members of the family, as has 
 been already indicated. With anxiety to turn the 
 young lives entrusted to his care to the highest 
 account, days and hours were conscientiously laid out 
 for honest work. 
 
 It was from his old master that he took his 
 model, and growing experience gradually taught him 
 how to adapt the Tillicoultry methods to his own 
 nature and youth. 
 
 It was not by natural instinct alone and untutored, 
 that he knew so well how to touch sympathetic chords 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 31 
 
 in young hearts in ministerial days, often by a few 
 words, even on casual meeting, opening floods of thought 
 and feeling that so frequently issued in untold good. 
 This rare power was, under God, due in large measure 
 to the early self-training of a loving heart, longing, 
 like Abraham, ' that Ishmael might live before 
 Thee ! ' 
 
 From the records of one of his youthful charge — 
 who died comparatively young, and whose devout spirit 
 runs through his diary — we gather that he and they 
 were then, among other things, studying natural history, 
 reading Homer in Greek, and Genesis in Hebrew, 
 Shakespeare, etc. ; that they were occupied, on Satur- 
 days, in learning, for recital next day, parts of such 
 works as M'Laurin's Sermon on ' Glorying in the Cross 
 of Christ,' Hannah More on ' Prayer,' Bishop Home 
 on ' Solitude,' Dr. Waugh on ' Contentment,' Hall, 
 the ' Olney Hymns,' etc. They would read two of 
 Timothy Dwight's sermons, such as ' Probation,' and 
 ' The Pall of Man,' ' to be examined on.' 
 
 A brief account would also be given, on the Sabbath 
 evenings, of such voluntary religious reading as went 
 on during the week. One day in the week was set 
 apart for letter - writing, each choosing a different 
 correspondent. These letters, before being despatched, 
 were read aloud in the family, at breakfast, or before 
 evening worship, or at some other suitable time. 
 
 It was the aim of the young teacher to try to 
 put the children on the practice of devout prayer, in 
 
32 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 the hope that it would soon become dehghtful enough 
 to them. ' Many children neglect the duty ' (he says), 
 ' not from any ill-disposition, but because nobody takes 
 care to teach them in it.' 
 
 Whatever his circle might be, small or large, at 
 home or abroad, it was his to seek to use his 
 influence wisely in diffusing a distaste for evil and a 
 relish for good. He considered that the smallness 
 or insignificance of it in no way diminished his 
 responsibility ; nor did he allow himself to justify 
 indolence under pretext of diffidence. 
 
 Many of the first principles of the oracles of God, 
 he was teaching, as the modest professor of chemistry 
 did his art, ' in order that he might learn them,' 
 
 There is evidence during those student years of 
 abundant and varied reading. His ' notes of reading ' 
 contain long lists of books by authors of known 
 excellence, along with remarks on what he finds in 
 them, and a decided expression of opinion regarding 
 them. In these lists the religious element pre- 
 dominates, but is by no means exclusive. It seems 
 to have been from his own reading that he induced 
 the younger members of the family not only to commit 
 to memory, as has been said, but also to write select 
 passages, which he considered of greatest value, and 
 worthy to be impressed on young minds. Thus were 
 they accustomed to 'high thinking,' while they might 
 be scarcely aware of the loftiness of the region — not 
 to speak of the superiority of style — with which their 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 33 
 
 everyday exercises were making them familiar from 
 their earliest years. 
 
 At Greenhill there was little or no coercion by the 
 parents in matters of detail. Broad principles were 
 laid down for guidance, and it was thought this should 
 be sufficient. In all the surroundings of that quiet 
 country home, there was an unusually large pre- 
 ponderance of good, and consequently the children, 
 while they remained there, had little knowledge of 
 the evil that is in the world ; they were not warned 
 against books or persons, but were accustomed to draw 
 all the good they could from all. 
 
 It is the common fate of voyagers to meet with a 
 storm. In December of this year (1832), James had 
 an attack of typhus fever at home. But he had 
 been able to enter the storm with some degree of 
 composure, saying, ' It is the Lord.' 
 
 He used often to refer to this event afterwards 
 with great interest. He told how, when at the crisis, 
 in the deepest state of prostration, unable to speak, 
 while his friends were gathered round the bed weep- 
 ing, and looking for the end, he felt as if roused out 
 of the final sleep that seemed creeping on, by the 
 sound of the ' cheeping of the doctor's shoes on the 
 stair.' The doctor's entry to the chamber changed 
 the scene. ' Hoot, he's got the turn ! ' were the lively 
 words that were to the patient like something that 
 helped him to a new hold of life — so far as his con- 
 
 c 
 
34 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 sciousness was concerned — and the point from which 
 he rallied slowly. 
 
 It may have been from this experience that he 
 learned the sensitiveness of one in such a state, and 
 how much might be endured (and, in his later visits 
 to the suffering, he was persuaded often was endured) 
 if the cruel wrong were committed of too free and un- 
 sympathetic speech in a dying chamber ; as if the poor 
 invalid, unable to give signs of consciousness, might 
 not be keenly aware of all that was passing — more 
 keenly perhaps than usual. It was always a delicate 
 point with him that whether one was sure of the 
 patient's unconsciousness or not, nothing should be 
 said but what would fall with perfect appropriateness 
 on the dying ear. 
 
 He returned to his college work in March 1833, 
 after three months' absence, finally parting with it in 
 May ; after which he took the first step that formally 
 committed him to the gospel ministry. In August of 
 this year he went to the Divinity Hall of the Seces- 
 sion Church in Edinburgh, for the first time. There 
 he remarked with delight the harmony and brotherly 
 kindness that subsisted among the students — ' no 
 paltry jealousies to embitter friendship, or to set friends 
 at variance.' 
 
 Previous to this he had repeated attacks of illness, 
 and after the close of the session, in the beginning 
 of October, while suffering from severe spasms of 
 pain — the earlier stages of the heart affection that 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 35 
 
 clung to him through life, and ultimately caused his 
 death — he repaired to Eothesay to recruit, and to pre- 
 pare also for the fatigues that awaited him, in what 
 he described as ' the delightful course ' that lay before 
 him. There for a time he was worse rather than 
 better, and it even seemed doubtful whether he might 
 recover. He returned home, however, with some 
 revival of strength. 
 
 A fellow-student and life-long friend, the Eev. John 
 Haddin, furnishes some reminiscences of this period 
 of Mr. Eobertson's life : — 
 
 'My acquaintance with liim began at Glasgow College, 
 when we were students in the logic class, under Professor 
 Buchanan. This was in the session of 1829-30, when the 
 Professor was yet new to the chair, and his enthusiasm in 
 full flow. The class was a brilliant one. The Professor 
 stated, some years afterwards, in a letter appended to the 
 funeral sermon on the death of the Rev. Morell M'Kenzie, 
 who was drowned in the wreck of the Pegasus, that it 
 was the most distinguished class which, up to that time, 
 he had taught. Mr. M'Kenzie was a student of that year, 
 and the most eminent in the senior section. The most dis- 
 tinguished in the junior was Mr. Halley, a student of the 
 Established Church, who died before he obtained licence ; 
 an interesting memoir of whom was written by the Rev. 
 William Arnot. The late Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. 
 Tait, was also a member of the class, and was then as 
 distinguished for his solid judgment, calm spirit, and prudent 
 action, as in after years. 
 
 ' The place which Mr. Robertson held in the classes was 
 
36 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 good. ISTot having been with him in any of these save 
 Logic and Mathematics, my knowledge is particular only in 
 regard to these. His course in Logic secured him one of the 
 higher prizes there. 
 
 *As a student, two things struck me as specially charac- 
 teristic, and sources of his power. These were the beauty 
 of his diction, and the richness and melody of his voice. 
 When he read an essay, the language appeared to me so 
 refined, and elegant, and apposite, and flowed forth in a 
 stream so soft and musical, that I was quite enchanted. 
 Nothing, I thought, could be more exquisite, and I placed 
 him at the highest point as an eloquent speaker. 
 
 * As an evidence of the spell thrown over me, I voted him 
 a prize in the mathematical class, and found myself, to my 
 surprise, the only student who did so ! My preference must 
 have arisen from the charming ivay in which he repeated 
 the demonstrations of Euclid, for he was not possessed of 
 mathematical talent, and I was not then so intimate with 
 him as to be blinded by partiality. The voice did the whole 
 — so telling, that it could render even the propositions of 
 Euclid musical, and convert their bald sentences into 
 eloquence ! 
 
 ' That which led me to yield myself to his influence, and 
 seek his friendship, was that which, in after years, made 
 him many friends. It was the intensity of his sympathy, 
 and the frankness of his manner. When we first met, I 
 was the most shy and awkward of youths. Nothing could 
 have been more exclusive and repellent than my appearance 
 and action. Think, then, what must have been the efi'ect on 
 such a one, when a fellow - student approached him with 
 easy manner, and smiling countenance, and spoke to him as 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVERSITY. 37 
 
 if he were a brother ! This was our first introduction to 
 one another, as I stood in the college court, apart from all 
 others. From that time, when we met, he spoke as if we 
 had known each other from childhood. The sudden and 
 close union I ascribe to his quick perception and instinctive 
 appreciation of the desires of others. To observe a want, 
 ever produced in him a wish to supply it. 
 
 ' This sympathy was his most distinguished characteristic. 
 In this he was unsurpassed by any minister with whom it 
 has been my lot to come into contact. One was sensible 
 of it on his first salutation, and all subsequent conversation 
 deepened the impression. There are many who will think 
 with you, resolve with you, act with you ; but the number 
 of those Avho will feel with you, and whose emotions will 
 respond to yours, is small. Mr. Kobertson was one who not 
 only thought and willed, but felt with those who appealed 
 to him. Not only so, but he felt more than he either 
 thought or willed. While his judgment and will might but 
 slightly accord with yours, and be but feebly expressed, his 
 feeling was decided, and strong, and fully manifested. The 
 effect of his sympathy was to attach many to him — some 
 in a high degree — "grappling them to him with hooks of 
 steel." 
 
 'All that he afterwards became, when he stood forth a 
 prominent and active minister, was in him as a student, not 
 only in germ, but in marked development. That which 
 first and most forcibly imi)ressed me was his piety, which 
 Avas at once commanding and constantly manifested. The 
 stream of faith and holy feeling was not more full and 
 flowing, his devotion more reverential and fervent, nor his 
 exertions more varied and active, in his advanced years. 
 
38 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 than in his opening ones. It was the entire surrender of 
 himself to God at the first, in heart and soul, that enabled 
 him to maintain such a bright and consistent course. 
 
 ' My first visit to Greenhill was in December 1833. During 
 the whole of the time Mr. Kobertson was labouring under 
 serious illness, so that usually he could scarcely speak above 
 a whisper. His mind was full of reverence and godly fear, 
 and at the same time of love and confidence. We had. 
 much pleasant and profitable intercourse. 
 
 ' At this time, his desire and. intention had been to devote 
 himself to the foreign mission field, and it had been his 
 wish to seek qualification for it by voluntary home mission 
 work in his own neighbourhood. Now he feared the 
 prospect was closed, and he must relinquish the fondly 
 cherished desire. Even the children of the district, among 
 whom he had taught Divine things on Sabbath evenings, 
 with evidence that his labour had not been in vain, were 
 denied their wonted privilege.' 
 
 Other reminiscences given by this friend, as well as 
 Mr, Eobertson's own notes at the time, show that he 
 was pondering deeply the varying phases of his spiritual 
 experience, and was most seriously exercised about the 
 discoveries he made in his faithful, earnest self- 
 examination, during his time of waiting and suffering 
 at home. It was something far from habitual cheer 
 that he derived from it : he sometimes feared, indeed, 
 that he was still unregenerate : — 
 
 ' Surely, were I a new creature, my desires would not 
 be so vagrant. What repugnance in the habitual dis- 
 
AT GLASGOW UNIVEESITY. 39 
 
 position of my heart to God ! How unsuitable tlie posture 
 and demeanour of my spirit to the great truths that 
 have been so long hovering in it ! I could run away from 
 myself. 
 
 ' My course of conversation is not shaped according to 
 what is lodged in my mind. I have a rational certainty of 
 the truth, strong enough to overcome the objections of 
 judgment, but not sufficient to destroy the corrupt inclina- 
 tions of the heart of unbelief. Oh, this unbelief, this 
 obstinate unpersuadableness ! 
 
 ' Self-condemned and self-abased, we throw ourselves at 
 Thy feet, even were it a peradventure whether Thou wouldst 
 pity us, even were it a supposable thing that we should 
 perish there. "We venture our souls upon Thee, with an 
 unconditional submission to the methods of Thy grace ; and 
 we make use of the blood of our Redeemer as our only 
 plea. 
 
 ' Rather let our tongue cleave to the roof of our mouth, 
 than that, through a wretched heart of unbelief, we should 
 reject and affront Thee, Saviour, as if Thou meantest to 
 mock and delude us by offers of salvation which Thou art 
 not infinitely willing to bestow. That be far from Thee, 
 and may the impious suspicion be far from us. We believe 
 and are sure that we cannot make too large demands on Thy 
 mercy to pardon, and Thy grace to help us.' 
 
 From these two sources we also learii that he 
 tried to strengthen his good resolutions by solemn 
 personal covenant with God ; and yet that, ' finding 
 his resolutions unstable as water,' and dissatisfied 
 with all, he ' turned to Him who could shape him 
 
40 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 entirely anew.' They show that his investigations 
 led him more and more to distrust himself, and to 
 centre his confidence on the Great Covenant-Keeper ; 
 working out for him, we doubt not, under God's 
 teaching, that shrinking from too much of the 
 * subjective ' in religion, that relinquishment of the 
 hope of drawing comfort from anything within, that 
 necessity of going out of himself for what would 
 enlighten and cheer, afterwards so characteristic of 
 his ministry. 
 
 And what have they not been the means of 
 working out for others, under a teaching that always 
 — consciously or unconsciously to them — pointed from 
 darkness to light, from confusion, and sin, and misery 
 in self, to a Saviour outside of us — distinct — separate 
 from us, who has done a work /or us, and is able and 
 willing to do a work loithin us, if we will but keep 
 looking to Him and expecting from Him, and cease the 
 vain attempt of saying to our own ' empty cisterns,' 
 ' Spring up, well ; ' a teaching that never taught 
 wanderers in darkness and sorrow to seek the Divine 
 in the human — in self ; but to seek it where it is — 
 in the glorious Person outside of self, and so become 
 in the finding and the beholding of Him, ' changed 
 into the same image, by the Lord the Spirit.' 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 IBags at OTaitintj. 
 1833-1835. 
 
 The spring of 1834, which brought with it gradual 
 recovery, brought also a new sorrow in the death of 
 his former Sabbath-school teacher. Miss Jessie Lowis 
 of Plean. Many years after, and within a fortnight 
 of his death, he spoke to a friend of the great 
 debt which spiritually he owed to her, saying : 
 ' Did I never tell you about that ? ' and then went 
 on to relate how, through God's mercy, he received 
 from her the first sacred impressions he could 
 recall, of the tremendous importance of the gospel, 
 and the necessity of a real, vital union with the 
 Saviour it reveals ; and how, in after years, he used 
 to go and sit on her grave, and think about it with 
 grateful emotion. 
 
 When ' Hall ' time came round this year, his health 
 did not admit of his attending it, and he felt this 
 keenly. His companions were compelled to leave him 
 behind like the poet's man on a desert island, who 
 
 * Never heard a sound so dismal as their parting oars ; ' 
 
42 JAMES ROBEETSON. 
 
 but their subsequent visits to him, with their gospel 
 voyages of discovery, and maps of what was, as yet to 
 him, a terra incognita of theology would, he expected, 
 be some compensation for the loss. 
 
 His being shut out from his loved employment, 
 with almost no prospect of ever reaching his goal, 
 gave scope to his ingenuity in devising varied plans 
 for service in the very short span of life that seemed 
 likely to be allotted to him, whereby he early began 
 to gather that rich experience in private and personal 
 dealing that distinguished his work, and rendered it 
 so fruitful. With the one aim ever before him, 
 he learned to be skilful in leading to higher things 
 through natural channels, carefully following the 
 windings of the mind he was dealing with, whilst 
 always giving glimpses of truth that led to the 
 revelation of self to self, and prepared for the 
 reception of the Christ he preached. In these things 
 we find much that resembled the natural and yet 
 varied ways of his Master with those to whom He 
 came laden with blessing, as in the case of the woman 
 at the well. Like Him, too, he sometimes asked 
 little favours that he might be the means of giving 
 greater ones, and getting inlet for them : ' Give 
 me to drink ' — ' He would have given thee living 
 water.' 
 
 About this time, a valued servant of the family 
 was leaving Greenhill to be married James and his 
 mother accompanied her for a short distance along 
 
DAYS OF WAITING. 43 
 
 the road. On bidding her farewell, he slipped a letter 
 into the basket she carried in her hand, and which 
 has been kept by her as a sacred treasure ever since. 
 We subjoin some extracts : — 
 
 ' Considering the present to be a crisis in your life, I 
 cannot stand upon ceremony, or satisfy myself, without 
 expressing my best wishes for your welfare, and especially 
 for the security of your everlasting interests, which is ihe 
 Grand Concern.' 
 
 ' May I ask you with all the humility of a fellow-sinner 
 (who has nothing between himself and destruction but the 
 blood of the Lamb) what your prospects are for that eternal 
 condition of being, to which this shifting life is but a 
 passage 1 
 
 ' Soon shall you and I exchange, not houses, but worlds. 
 On your reception, and on mine, of the Friend of sinners, as 
 the Way, the Truth, and the Life, depends our everlasting 
 weal or woe.' 
 
 ' Have you taken refuge under the shadow of His dear 
 cross 1 Have the worth of the soul and the Saviour, the 
 possible nearness of death, and the weight of eternal things, 
 affected your heart, in some degree suitably to the magnitude 
 of these objects. I know there arc multitudes, multitudes ! 
 Avho are cheating themselves — placing their hopes of sal- 
 vation in the harmlessness of their outward behaviour, and 
 the fidelity with which they discharge the duties of their 
 situation, and having repeated year by year the self-delusion, 
 sink into the grave ! How can I be otherwise than anxious 
 that you should go forth from us, not merely exemplary for 
 industrious and sober and amiable manners, but with warm, 
 
44 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 enlightened, and serious piety, and adorned with all the 
 beauties of holiness.' 
 
 This intense desire, ' that by all means he might 
 save some,' continued to be the habit of his life ; 
 and not a few of the class referred to can recall 
 with tender gratitude the opportunities he never lost, 
 of dropping, in season and out of season, the pointed 
 word, always fitted to arrest, and call to serious 
 thought. His method was once quaintly characterized 
 by an old servant, when driving a ministerial friend 
 from Greenhill to the station. 
 
 ' Do ye ken oor Maister Jeems, sir ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' Oh yes,' was the reply. 
 
 ' Aweel, ye canna be lang wi' him in a gig, till he 
 staps up your hraith! 
 
 About this time we find him planning an association 
 in aid of missions, when missions were less general 
 than now, conscious that it was quite possible for 
 contemporary criticism to call him ' visionary.' All 
 through his life, callous unbelief was often disposed to 
 call his hopefulness and high aspirations for man 
 visionary. It seemed an unwelcome intrusion on the 
 indifferent sleep in which too large a proportion of 
 professing Christendom lies. But his hope for man 
 lay not in man himself, but in his unfailing belief in 
 what God could do for him, through the gospel, by 
 His good Spirit. 
 
DAY.S OF WAITING. 45 
 
 Those who had known God's power themselves 
 welcomed the cheer and sthnulus his presence brought, 
 and renewed their efforts and prayers for their fellow- 
 men, with revived faith and hope. 
 
 In 183 5 he wrote some things for the press, that he 
 might proclaim his favourite theme by pen, if not by 
 preaching. 
 
 A tract entitled ' Look Up ' is one of these, and 
 another — written in winter during the languid hours 
 of convalescence from two years' illness — is a 
 meditation on ' The Benefits of Affliction to the 
 Young.' The points illustrated in this tract may 
 here be given, as indicating the lessons which he 
 had learned in his time of weakness. He says of 
 affliction in youth that it 
 
 ' 1. Hides pride from the young. 
 
 ' 2. Corrects their extravagant expectations. 
 
 ' 3. Preserves them from sin, and teaches them its 
 exceeding sinfulness. 
 
 ' 4. Has often been the means of conversion in 
 youth. 
 
 ' 5. Endears to the young the word of grace, the 
 throne of grace, and the sympathy of Jesus. 
 
 ' 6. Invigorates the graces of the young Christian.' 
 
 The peculiar irksomeness of a state of non-employ- 
 ment, his bodily trouble and mental exercise drove 
 him at first to this writing for the press, while ' the 
 absolute impossibility of subsisting without some 
 useful work ' continued to recommend it. The weari- 
 
46 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 ness that worried him hunted him into the use of the 
 pen — his only remedy. 
 
 He writes : * We read that Zachariah stayed out 
 the days of his ministration, though he was both dumb 
 and deaf. Though he ceased to be able to speak, he 
 did not cease to minister. He did not take his dumb- 
 ness as a dismission. He knew that God could accept 
 his hand and heart, though his tongue was tied.' It 
 was in this spirit that he accepted his chastening, and 
 learned, when under it, that it was good to go on 
 with his work as far as he was able, and never to 
 take any slight occasion for withdrawing his neck 
 from the yoke of the Lord. He was still blessed 
 with some powers of usefulness, that excluded all 
 excuse for indolence, and these he would use as 
 he could. 
 
 The death (in August 1835) of a sister, endeared 
 to all in no ordinary degree, touched him much. He 
 drew up a detailed statement of the scenes and facts 
 of her deathbed, to gratify the wishes of survivors, 
 and console them. The narrative was carefully kept, 
 and read and re-read by younger members of the 
 family. 
 
 This sister's death was an example, imprinting 
 itself indelibly on the minds of the other young 
 people, of the power of Christianity, enabling her to 
 display the calmest heroism in the most trying 
 moments, carrying her through a long series of 
 sufferings with dignified composure and unaltered 
 
DAYS OF WAITING. 47 
 
 sweetness, and scattering the horrors of the sepulchre, 
 so that she could look into it undismayed. ' Here is 
 the patience and the faith of the saints.' 
 
 ' The darts of death, vary as they may, all come 
 from His armoury. His quiver. Wonderful, that we 
 should reap so much encouragement from those who, 
 in the awful act of dissolution, need to be themselves 
 so much encouraged. Christ in His agony had " an 
 angel from heaven strengthening Him." ' 
 
 This autumn he attended the Divinity Hall in 
 Edinburgh, but seems to have come home from it 
 early, and rather downcast — not having ' nerve enough 
 to face the rough world ' — apparently concluding that 
 his only wisdom was in quiet, and that home was 
 still the only eligible place for him. ' A vain, 
 vexing, weary world is the beaten way to a better,' 
 and ' God has His own ways of saying to His children, 
 as He did to Abraham, " Get thee out unto a land 
 that I will show thee." ' 
 
 The pleasure of meeting with fellow-students was 
 balanced by the pain of contrast ; and it was no 
 wonder that, gazing on the hopeless wreck of 
 schemes long cherished with passionate affection, he 
 should be ' filled with silent anguish. The nightshade 
 was twining about the rosebuds of his best hopes.' 
 But it was ' not a new experience. Moses, at the 
 promised land knew it : David, in regard to the 
 building of the temple.' 
 
48 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' Feeling, like fire, is a good servant, but a bad 
 master.' 
 
 ' Oh, for a well-governed sensibility, touched and 
 purified with " a live coal from off the altar ! " ' 
 
 Yet it was with unjealous joy and thankfulness to 
 God that he could see others go forth with devotion to 
 preach Christ among the heathen, while the work — 
 ' the most delightful of all employments ' — was mean- 
 time wrested from his hands. 
 
 His chief infirmities at this time were, he says, weak- 
 ness of voice and want of locomotive energy ; and he 
 adds : ' Natural evil, with God's blessing, is moral good. 
 The nearest way to my wishes, God being judge, may 
 not always be the best ; and the fruit I covet will 
 be much more rich and wholesome when ripe, than if 
 I should seize and devour it while green. " He that 
 believeth maketh not haste." My days of inaction the 
 Lord knows them — that is with Him, appointed by 
 Him. None but He knows what is good for a man. 
 A child may cry for a sharp instrument, or long to get 
 up a steep ladder, — may wish for holidays and dainties, 
 when a wise and good parent knows it needs schooling 
 and medicine.' 
 
 After this there had been some recovery of strength, 
 and still more on discontinuing the work of teaching 
 at home. He was yet able to visit for Christian ends 
 in the neighbouring villages, and to hold occasional 
 meetings too. 
 
 His dealing with people at the close of his services 
 
DAYS OF WAITING. 49 
 
 was a natural outcome of his land of work, from the 
 beginniug. It did not belong specially to the later 
 part of his life, when others were doing it more 
 generally ; nor yet only to his ordained ministry as 
 a whole, but it was already a feature of his early 
 meetings in ' The Camp ' (a colliers' hamlet near 
 his home) and elsewhere, while he was yet a lad. 
 Neither was it the forced un discriminating attack of 
 an undiscerning nature on all sorts of people alike. 
 In his meeting, his quick, sympathetic eye would 
 detect the concerned sinner ; and, on coming out, he 
 would find him loitering about the road, and, in the 
 easiest and most natural way possible, he would give 
 him an outlet for what he wanted to say. The man 
 could not but feel he would understand and help him. 
 
 In visiting the sick and apparently dying, it was 
 characteristic of him, from his early years, to avoid on 
 such occasions any cruel freedom in expressing alarm, 
 or in talking of death. To use his own words, he had 
 'no right to number any person's days, even when 
 they seemed most probably numbered ; ' and yet, if 
 warning were needed, there would be no lack of faith- 
 fulness, and his aim would be ' to do it through 
 Scripture passages, which do not shock, without infus- 
 ing the balm of Gilead to heal the wounds they 
 expose, and to open the door of hope to a better 
 world, while the ties to this were being loosened.' 
 
 As health improved, his outside work increased, and 
 the scene of his loving labours sometimes extended to 
 
 D 
 
50 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Stirling, which was five miles from his home. The 
 interval between services on Sabbath was used in 
 this way to good purpose ; but week-day and Sabbath 
 found him in the same favourite employment, now 
 trying to rouse the self-flatterer out of false security, 
 and receiving thanks for it, now ministering to the 
 sick and dying. He records with concern the case of 
 one who would go ' no further with him than the " if 
 argument " (" if we could pronounce on the safety 
 of our soul, if we could read our title clear to the 
 inheritance of the saints in light ") ' with whom he 
 left Hall's Farcivdl to Life, hoping she might ' taste 
 and sec that God is good.' Other dying ones he was 
 seeking to convince that a main ingredient in pre- 
 paredness for death is the pardon of sin, and that the 
 grand object should be to get at, not a favourable, so 
 much as a correct notion of their spiritual condition ; 
 not to get relief from the fears of guilt by any 
 means, but the truly Scriptural means ; while his 
 heart would be gladdened, on his way home, in talking 
 with a poor old woman whom he joined on the road, 
 who had scarce where to lay her head, and yet seemed 
 to be rich in faith, and beautified with God's salvation. 
 A worthy miner in the neighbourhood, Sandy 
 Stevenson (regarding whom a memorial sketch was 
 ultimately written, entitled ' The Pious Collier '), was 
 brought about this time to his deathbed. Mr. liobert- 
 son visited him often, and prized his character and 
 Christianity much, quoting of him as he approached 
 
DAYS OF WAITING. 51 
 
 his end, John Newton's saying, ' He is in great danger 
 — of going to heaven,' his evidences being bright for 
 that better country, and his sun becoming bigger at 
 its setting. Many an hour was spent at Sandy's, his 
 visits to him being always found profitable to himself. 
 ' It is a place privileged beyond the common walks of 
 life — the chamber in which a dying Jacob is waiting 
 for God's salvation. . . . The word of the Lord has 
 tried him, and if the world marvels to see how Chris- 
 tians are sustained and consoled in their penury and 
 pain, the reason is, it cannot see one-half. It can see 
 the burdens, but not the Everlasting Arms underneath 
 them. It can see the tokens of sorrow, but none of 
 the comforts of the Holy Ghost shed abroad in their 
 hearts. Strange as it may seem, I believe this suffer- 
 ing saint in his tedious confinement, with few of the 
 alleviations which affluence or friendship supply, is 
 the happiest man among us.' Some of Mr. Eobertson's 
 letters to Sandy have been carefully preserved. 
 
 'Nicholson Street, Glasgow, March 30, 1833. 
 ' My dear Friend, . . . You feci your strength, I trust, 
 recruiting much, especially Avhcn all about you is becoming 
 rapidly redolent of spring. Oh, for a new spring-time in our 
 souls ! Truly the light of life is sweet, and a pleasant thing 
 it is for the eyes to behold the Sun of Eighteousness. Under 
 what is termed " the hiding of God's countenance," alas wliat 
 distractions and what torturing forebodings ! The " horror 
 of great darkness " falls upon us. " How great is that dark- 
 ness ! " How great the peace-giving influence then of " good 
 
52 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 hope through grace," of the voice of love and mercy from 
 Calvary, "Peace be still." The quaking spirit is hushed. 
 It banishes every " fear which hath torment." 
 
 ' If our eye and heart are not gladdened, my dear friend, by 
 the tide of melting light and love which surrounds and eman- 
 ates from the throne of the Lamb, the cause verily is not in 
 the love or in the light. A faithful God never withdraws 
 from us, but when sin or unbelief withdraws us from Him. 
 
 ' With the exception of some considerable strengthlessness, 
 which makes the chariot wheels drag on accordingly, I may 
 caU myself quite well. How forcibly does returning health 
 summon me to gratitude for the mercy of it ! I have been 
 both smitten and smiled upon. May I never " forget His 
 works," as Israel did, after He had " compassed them about 
 with songs of deliverance ! " 
 
 'Temperance matters here far more stagnant than they 
 ought to be — not that there is any flagrant backsliding or 
 declension, Irat we are sleeping within our old limits, and fie 
 on us for it ! 
 
 ' Church parties are keeping each other in hot water. 
 Surely now they might have free trade in discussmg prin- 
 ciples, without infringing on charity, Avithout cherishing a 
 particle of ill-will against those who hold them. They might 
 be " purging out the old leaven " when they are wasting 
 their breath on revilings. Stand by thyself yonder, come 
 not near me, for I am sounder than thou. Oh, come the day 
 that shall do away discords, and make it the watchword 
 of the whole brotherhood of professors : "I am of Christ ! " 
 
 ' I fondly hope that no root of bitterness shall spring up on 
 this account to trouble you, or mar your harmony on the 
 Saturday evenings. I beg to be very affectionately re^ 
 
DAYS OF WAITING. 53 
 
 membered to those who still take counsel with you, and 
 please myself with the confidence that the relish of all is 
 heightening for the delight of such " solemn groups and 
 sweet societies," and that a taste is appearing to he imparted 
 to those who may have been too much strangers to the 
 experience of their excellence. Let us " set our hope in 
 God," and go forward, forgetting the things that are 
 behind. 
 
 * You will, I hope, my good friend, take this (scrawl as it 
 is) as a token of the sincerity with which I am, — Yours, 
 with respect and love, J. E.' 
 
 The others are pencil notes from Greenhill, when it 
 would seem that both Sandy and he were under the 
 rod. 
 
 ' . . . Does not the blessed Hand which lays the cross on, 
 also supply unction for the bruises it occasions'? Let us 
 not be discouraged because of the way Zionward. Yes, it is 
 a waste land, but " God can spread a table for us." We have 
 the Manna, the Rock, and the Ark. And should there be 
 but a scanty portion of the blessings that perish in the using 
 allotted us, need Ave be ashamed of treading in the footsteps 
 of the "Lord of all," who, though He had more right than 
 we have to better entertainment in His own world, was worse 
 provided for than birds or foxes ; and who, in illustrating 
 the sorrows and privations of His own life, was not ashamed 
 to caU us brethren. Yonder, not here, is your recompense, 
 your centre, your resting-place, your home ' 
 
 Again — 
 
 ' . . . I was in the very act, when yours came to hand, of 
 
54 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 sending you some Missionary Chronicles. . . . You will 
 see a little of tlie Lord's doings among the nations — of the 
 moral miracles He is working upon such as loere bleeding to 
 death of their spiritual wounds. It is a period when great 
 things are expected, and great things attempted. We must 
 " tarry beside the stuff," but we may wield the sword of the 
 Spirit. Yes, we are but dust, and can bear but little, and it 
 would be something of which, we may presume, we would 
 never lose the relish all our days, if it were consistent with 
 His holy pleasure to remove the stroke by which we are 
 consumed. But, whatever betide. He has pledged His word 
 to apportion the burden to the strength. This is our com- 
 fort, and this our confidence, that He "looks down from the 
 height of His sanctuary to hear the groaning of the prisoner, 
 to loose those that are appointed soon to die." 
 
 'Ay, our friends are telling off apace, from the land of 
 the dying to the land of the living. " 'Tis the survivor 
 dies ! " . . . " Dear in God's sight is the death of His saints." 
 Their works of faith and mercy are said to follow them ; but 
 it is the righteou.sness of Immanuel that, as it Avere, goes 
 before them, to open the gates of the celestial city. The 
 good Lord lead us to learn the lesson which others are dying 
 to give. . . .' 
 
 ' . . . I rejoice in the proofs enough which you have, and 
 which you give, that the Lord is Avith you of a truth. More 
 and more do I see how blessed a thing it is to be taught 
 heavenly wisdom, though in the roughest school, to "be 
 made partakers of His holiness." I see it, but in how 
 unspeakably small a measure do I attain ! I am abased in 
 dust and ashes at the idea that the furnace fails to purify, 
 
DAYS OF WAITING. 55 
 
 and the rod to drive folly from this heart of unbelief ; and I 
 entreat a share in your intercessions, lest there should be 
 ground for the question: How "have ye suffered so many 
 things in vain?" . . . On the subject of the prosperous 
 state of our Aaron-and-Hur Society, I have reason to be of a 
 doubtful mind. "We are faint, I fear, and dissipated, and 
 shorn of our strength. I long to see you, to tell you without 
 suspicion or reserve what roots of bitterness have sprung up 
 to trouble us. I long for the time when you shall be among 
 us again, to quicken our languishing love, and teach us to 
 steer steady. Our sin is, that our prayers come not in 
 enlargement and in confidence up to the amount of the 
 Divine promise, and to the amount of influence in Jesus' 
 name. From all jealousies except a godly jealousy over our 
 own hearts, and for the honour of our Saviour, may the 
 good Lord deliver us. . . .' 
 
 Another miner, James Msbet, a disciple of Sandy's, 
 followed him to the grave soon after, but by a more 
 sudden passage. It is of him Mr. Eobertson writes : — 
 
 ' After Sandy's death, his delight seemed to be to spend 
 the interval between services on Sabbath, sitting on the sod 
 that covered him, as if his faith had been " preventing " his 
 own change, and anticipating the ensuing commission, A 
 favourite text he often alluded to, as having sometime 
 broken his fetters, and as descriptive of the triumph of the 
 believer over the sufferings and sins of earth, was : " Though 
 ye have Ken among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of 
 a dove, covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow 
 gold." He bore the marks of unfeigned humility, a heart 
 full of love to Christ, and fervent zeal for the salvation of 
 
56 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 souls. While emi^loyecl in his room in the pit, a huge block 
 of coal, which he was loosening from beneath, suddenly 
 gave Avay, and crushed him to the ground. The alarm was 
 immediately given, but several minutes elapsed before men 
 could be collected in sufficient numbers to extricate him ; and 
 the poor sufferer was so dreadfully injured, that after linger- 
 ing in intense anguish, but apparent unconsciousness, for 
 eleven hours, he expired. 
 
 ' What made him so desirable for this world was just that 
 he was so well prepared for a better. While he lived the 
 world cordially hated him for his piety ; but after his death 
 every tongue bore the language of unbought respect and 
 attachment.' 
 
 Mr. Eobertson's yoimger brother George, who was 
 truly ' of the same mind ' with himself, was from home. 
 To him he wrote in pencil as follows : — 
 
 ' Saturday night, 8 o'clock. 
 
 ' If you have tears, my dear George, prepare to shed them 
 now. . . . James Nisbet is gone to join Sandy in a death- 
 less world. You will share with me this sad day's sorrow, 
 for it is a burden too heavy for my single heart to bear. 
 The whole " Camp " is written desolate to-night of its accus- 
 tomed joy. Every one is weeping, and "their tears become 
 them, and their grief is just." . . . The Lord liveth, and 
 blessed be our Rock. The Almighty ever liveth, though the 
 mighty be fallen — they who had power with God and pre- 
 vailed on our behalf. 
 
 ' . . . We will not despair or perplex ourselves about the 
 means of protecting the interests of religion against the 
 enemy and the avenger. ... Is there iiot an unfailing 
 
DAYS OF WAITING. 57 
 
 resource in Omnipotence, to which the whole compass of 
 creation is obedient, and which " calleth things that are not 
 as though they were"? 
 
 * James sent me word last night that he would spend an 
 hour with me this afternoon, to talk over some of his plans 
 of doing good. But the first news that reached my ear this 
 morning, when I awoke, was that he had been carried home 
 from the pit in the utmost anguish. I was at his bedside in 
 a little ; but dying was hard work — he hardly recognised 
 any one. ... It was a fiery chariot, but it carried him to 
 heaven. ... I have taken some of the sweetest counsel 
 with him since you left us last. . . . 
 
 ' Old Rabbie (too) is dead and liappit. So are other three 
 who used to frequent your little congregation in Jean's. . . .' 
 
 Having taken notes of Sandy's life and experience, 
 Mr, Eobertson desired Mr. M'Cheyne (then assistant to 
 the Eev. John Bonar, Larbert, and afterwards minister 
 of Dundee) to frame a narrative from them, believing 
 that it might be of much use. Kegarding this request 
 Mr. M'Cheyne wrote from Stenliousemuir in September 
 1836:— 
 
 ' I was so much interested Avith the sketch of Alexander 
 Stevenson's life that I hardly stopped till I got to the end of 
 it. It presents the most graphic picture that I ever saw of 
 a poor collier's life. How true that one -half the world 
 knows not how the other half lives ! It is peculiarly 
 interesting to me, having been somewhat occupied among 
 that very class of people. And the grand lesson that it 
 teaches me is, that it is the duty of the minister to know the 
 case of every one of his people — to be his intimate guide to 
 
58 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 tlie Saviour. I am somewhat at a loss to trace the beginning 
 of a work of grace in his heart. His seems to be one of 
 those cases (unHke the Philippian jailor) where there is no 
 sudden transition from darkness to marvellous light. The 
 abstaining from secret prayer, even after the beginning of a 
 kind of religious life, is quite a puzzle to me. There is good 
 evidence of a graciously humbled spirit ; but there seems to 
 have been no particular time when he was overpoweringly 
 convinced of sin. In the same way there seems good evi- 
 dence of a mind looking unto Jesus, and receiving peace only 
 from looking out to Him — to His wounds, and to His 
 obedience ; but I do not find there was any particular time 
 when his eyes were opened of a sudden to see the beauty and 
 fitness of the Saviour. If I look rightly into his case, it is 
 one of those in which God, from time to time, by provi- 
 dential dealings, leads on and on to the knoAvledge of their 
 lost estate, and to the knowledge of Jesus, without any one 
 point in their life which can be called a time of conversion. 
 Their whole life has been, as it were, one long birth into the 
 world of grace. If this be true, it is very precious, and 
 teaches ministers a thousand lessons. Another remarkable 
 feature is, that no man seems to have been God's instrument, 
 or chief instrument, in turning him to God. He had no 
 spiritual father. God's providence seems to have been the 
 chief instrument. His providences are admirably told, and 
 are exceedingly interesting. ... I do think it Avould make 
 a useful tract to print it at some length ; but it would need 
 a pruning hand, or rather to be remodelled. . . . 
 
 ' If you know those of his friends that are living, you 
 might let me know their names, that we may not injure 
 them by putting them in print. 
 
DAYS OF WAITING". 59 
 
 ' I was grieved I could see so little of you last evening. 
 Remember the sweet words of Jude 21, "Keep yourself in 
 the love of God " — in His love to you, and then yours will 
 abound to Him ; and to Him who alone is able to keep you 
 from falling I commend you and yours.' 
 
 Mr. M'Cheyne was sent abroad soon after this, in 
 connection with the Jewish Mission of his Church, 
 and the constant labours of a busy, but short ministry 
 on his return left him no time to compile the narra- 
 tive. This was finally done by another hand, that of 
 Mr. Wliitecross, author of Anecdotes on the Shorter 
 Cateehism, etc. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 E^z Hi&inftg Stxiticnt. 
 
 1835-1839. 
 
 One of Mr. Eobertson's favourite places of call in 
 Stirling was Jeanie Wilson's. He was wont to call 
 her 'A Lily among Thorns;' and many will recognise 
 this title as that of a small memoir from his own 
 hand, which has appeared at different times, in several 
 different forms. 
 
 Jeanie belonged to a tribe of gypsies that had their 
 headquarters at Eaploch, a village at the foot of 
 Stirling Castle Eock. During the summer wanderings 
 of some of her company in Fife, she was attracted to a 
 tent-preaching at a communion, and heard : ' Cursed is 
 every one that continueth not in all things written in 
 the book of the law to do them.' She thought she 
 had continued in nothing, came under deep conviction, 
 and, returning to Stirling, found the truth that met her 
 need, chiefly in Erskine Church, and under the teach- 
 ing of Mr. Campbell. She became thenceforward 'a 
 light shining in a dark place,' and for many years 
 she lived quietly and consistently, supporting an aged 
 mother by her industry. She was afterwards herself 
 
THE DIVINITY STUDENT. 61 
 
 almost entirely bedridden for about eighteen years, 
 and dependent on charity. 
 
 Of her Mr. Eobertson says : — 
 
 ' She spoke of God as one who lived in His presence, and 
 of Christ as one dwelling near His cross. Hence it was 
 that, in a wide circle of Christian friends, her name became 
 a sort of inspiring watchword for the cultivation of Christian 
 graces and heavenly affections. Often on Sabbath between 
 services there might be seen directing their steps to Jeanie's 
 garret, on the Castle Hill, students who were preparing for 
 the ministry of the gospel. She was a stranger to the names 
 of their classical poets and orators, but they felt that she 
 was well fitted to instruct them in everything truly spiritual, 
 being so richly familiar with the strains of the " Sweet 
 Singer of Israel," and with the nobler eloquence of Him 
 who "spake as never man spake." They went to that 
 favourite spot to learn their practical theology, to study 
 "the faith and patience of the saints;" and often might 
 they have been heard saying to each other as they returned : 
 " Did not our hearts burn within us 1 " 
 
 ' She cautioned them frequently against the danger of 
 putting active zeal in the room of heart Christianity — of 
 confounding frequent thinking or speaking of the things 
 of God officially with the graces of His Spirit in the soul. 
 She reminded them that " a servant cannot live on the act 
 of preparing food for others, but she must have her own 
 meals besides." She urged them to live much in the spirit 
 of dependence and of prayer, and never to forget that word 
 of Jesus, "Abide in Me." "Be sure," said she, "that you 
 commend Christ weel wherever you go. You'll never be 
 
62 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 able to tell sinners half o' His Avorth. For He is just a Non- 
 such. There's nae spot in Him." 
 
 ' At another time, when speaking of " the Avinning of 
 souls as being the grand, thing we Avant, and ministers Avho 
 will really seelc to Avin them," she added, "But mind, ye 
 maun gang Avarily aboot it, for perishing souls are just like a 
 man lyin' on the broAv o' a rock sleepin', Avi' the sea beloAv 
 him. Eh, hoAV canny you Avoukl deal Avi' a man like this ! 
 You wouldna gie a wild shout, in case you Avaukened 
 him in a start, and he lost his balance. Wouldn't you 
 try to draAv him aff to a place o' safety aa'I' great 
 tenderness and affection ? ' He that Avinneth souls is 
 Avise.' " ' 
 
 On Mr. Robertson's A^isiting her once, A\dth a brother, after 
 nearly three years' absence, she said to him : ' That health 
 God has restored is a gift Avhich it is at your peril to put to 
 an improper use.' Visiting her again Avith three other young 
 men, she asked regarding them, ' But can you say they are 
 the friends of the truth'?' and made these among other 
 remarks : ' Oh, Avhat safety in Christ's hold of me ! Avhat 
 comfort in my hold of Him ! ' 'The LaAV-giver is the LaAV- 
 fulfiller. I cannot tell you the joy I have in His un- 
 changing love. He can never cast away any of the jeAA'^els 
 of the cabinet that He koft sae dear.' * Carry a savour of 
 Christ contmually about Avith you.' 
 
 To Luther's ' trio that makes a minister — prayer, 
 meditation, and temptation ' — it was with a calm per- 
 suasion that Mr. Eobertson added' — 
 
 ' . . . the visitation of the too-much-unvisited cottage and 
 garret of the afflicted saint, Avhom, though poor in this 
 
THE DIVINITY STUDENT. 63 
 
 Avorld, "God has cliosen rich in faith.'" It was 'there in 
 conference that he heard (what he thought) the best lectures 
 on Divinity, and felt with overwhelming force the grace of 
 the Saviour, and the nearness of eternity. Such sick and 
 dying rooms are the best schools for the living and the 
 healthy to get spiritual instruction ; and oh ! how little do 
 the crowds that pass and repass, and gaze unmeaningly on 
 everything that offers itself — how little do they know of the 
 interest, from more worlds than one, that meets and clusters 
 round that little chamber ! If blessings are bestowed and 
 judgments averted in answer to prayer, if the Bible teaches 
 that the efficacy of prayer is proportioned to the inwrought 
 fervour, it is impossible to say how much this neighbour- 
 hood is indebted to those saintly persons, who employ on our 
 behalf so powerful intercession with God.' 
 
 ' Blessed gospel, which can so soften the pillow of the 
 suffering followers of Jesus ! ' ' What a Bethel is the bed of 
 poverty, or the chamber of sickness, when a person, simple 
 as simplicity itself, discovers such gifts and powers as seem 
 to come immediately from above. Reserved and retiring on 
 other subjects, and at other times, they seem to have their 
 lips touched, and their tongues unloosed on this. They 
 express themselves in such a manner, that one is never tired 
 of hearing them ; yea, the most modest and timid can come 
 forward and confess Christ with such a holy boldness as 
 reminds you of her who said, " I cannot plead for Christ, 
 but I can die for Him." How delightful and salutary the 
 fragrance of these blossoms of paradise. To meet un- 
 expectedly, as it were by the waters of Babylon, even one 
 citizen of Zion ... is sufficient to make "the desert rejoice 
 and blossom as the rose." None but those who have felt it 
 
G4 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 can know what it is for them to acknowledge one another, 
 and to taste the blessedness of conlmunion in the love of 
 Christ. They bear the unerring features of the liousehold of 
 faith.' 
 
 A little later he says : ' Drawing near God, and receiving 
 inspiration from His Word, though destitute, like the first 
 disciples, of " staff and scrip," let every Christian labour 
 among his family, his kindred, his neighbourhood — among 
 the young who need him, the sick who desire him, and 
 the poor who will welcome him. His Master will find him 
 field enough for usefulness ; and though the Avorld shall 
 deride him, and cast him forth from its fortunate places, he 
 need not feed on the smile of its favour, but on the stern 
 resolves and heavenward enjoyments of an apostle's toilsome 
 calling. One such Christian Avere worth a hundred, and a 
 hundred such were worth a host, to revive and quicken the 
 pining interests of Jehovah's Zion. 
 
 ^ 'Visit the poor, the outcast, the perishing, my fellow- 
 Christian, and you will find them worthy to be visited. 
 Take an interest in their condition, and you will not only 
 confer, but inherit a blessing. 'Tis the finest office of 
 "religion, pure and undefiled, to visit the fatherless in their 
 affliction," and those who have no helper. Most like it is 
 to the providence of the Father of Mercies — so tender, so 
 noiseless, and so iinseen — so effectual. Most like it is to 
 prayer, this private communion of two afflicted ones — the 
 one in want, which the other can supply. 
 
 ' It needs no society, no committee, no subscription list, 
 no memorial of any kind. The witness is in heaven, the 
 record is on high. . . . The vilest sinner and the bitterest 
 enemy are not to be excluded from the sphere of your 
 
THE DIVINITY STUDENT. 65 
 
 tenderness. ... If there is real love in the heart, in those 
 visits, one may say anything.^ 
 
 Again, elsewhere : ' Nothing but an affectionate forth- 
 going is necessary on our part among the outcast and long- 
 neglected families of our population, that we may have a 
 willing and warm reception on theirs. It is utterly a mis- 
 take (to think) that among the labouring classes there is a 
 hardy, an insolent defiance, which no assiduities of good- 
 will, or of kindness, on the part of Christian visitors, can 
 possibly overcome. They have been tried in this respect, 
 and found courteous and inviting. It is not in human 
 nature to withstand the charm which lies in unwearied zeal 
 for their best interests.' 
 
 As the summer of 1836 advanced, Mr. Eobertson's 
 prospects of attendance at the Hall did not brighten ; 
 but whether they did or not, he still cherished the 
 thought of being bound as it were by office to 
 religion, as a wholesome antidote to the dangers of 
 temptations to relapse into utter worldliness and 
 apostasy ; trusting to get, through grace, the antipathy 
 in his heart to what is good destroyed by close 
 attention to such duties and exercises. His uncer- 
 tainty kept him in sympathy with the good man who 
 said, ' I have not had a to-morrow for years.' 
 
 In the spring of 1837, a young man, of the name 
 of Miller, was imprisoned in Stirling, on a charge 
 of murder. One who was a boy at the time still 
 recalls the feeling of reverential awe with which he 
 used to watch the delicate young student gain admis- 
 
 E 
 
66 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 sion to the gaol, in order to deal with the culprit, 
 when under sentence of death. Mr. Eobertson refers 
 to the exhaustion consequent on visits to poor Miller's 
 cell, in which, no doubt, his sympathy with a brother- 
 man standing in such a solemn position was almost 
 too much for his bodily frame. After Miller's death, 
 the Falkirk Tract Society asked him to draw up a 
 statement of the whole case for publication. This he 
 did, intermingling the narrative with practical lessons 
 throughout, in which he aimed at leading his readers 
 to feel, as he himself did : ' There goes John Brad- 
 ford but for the grace of God.' 
 
 The man went by the nickname of ' Scatters.' 
 Some time after Scatters' death, Mr. Eobertson met the 
 culprit's mother on the road to Larbert. She was on 
 the way to her work in the wood — peeling bark. She 
 threw down her pipe as soon as her eye caught his, 
 came forward weeping, and said how very glad she 
 was to meet him, as she did not know where he was 
 to be found. After giving a history of the progress 
 of poor Sandy's degeneracy, she added : ' But it was 
 all ordained so to be, and I'm quite content ! ! ! ' 
 
 "When expostulated with on her intemperate 
 habits, she said she had tasted no whisky for six 
 months past, and if anybody should abhor it, she 
 added, ' it should surely be me, for it has cost me 
 my laddie. I canna get his end oot o' my mind an 
 hoor in the day. I'm- aye thinkin' o' him.' 
 
 After the Hall season of 1837, Mr. Robertson went 
 
THE DIVINITY vSTUDENT. 67 
 
 to reside as tutor in a family in the neighbourhood of 
 Falkirk, during the long recess between the annual 
 periods of study in Edinburgh — his health being now- 
 better, though he still felt the ' thorn in the flesh.' 
 It was in no hireling spirit that he entered on his 
 charge, but with the one desire uppermost, the pro- 
 motion of the welfare of all, and specially, that the 
 ' dear little ones committed to ' his care might 
 become wise unto salvation. He seems to have been 
 able to continue with them till the summer of the 
 following year. 
 
 Among his occasional labours in his new sphere, 
 stimulating addresses on home and foreign missions 
 occupied a prominent and interesting place. We 
 find him also assisting at the formation of an 'asso- 
 ciation for religious purposes,' and again at the 
 formation of ' the Falkirk Branch of the British and 
 Foreign Young Men's Society.' Speaking of the latter, 
 he described its purpose as being ' to pour the gifts 
 and graces of each into a common treasury for the 
 benefit of all ; to increase their watchful interest in 
 one another, and thereby multiply their guards 
 against self-deception and temptation ; to mark their 
 respective qualifications for the labours of Christian 
 love, and with faithful affection to rouse to their suit- 
 able improvement ; and to quicken each other's zeal on 
 behalf of those who are perishing without knowledge, 
 or, what is worse, perishing with it.' He was, in fact, 
 urging the young men to those exercises and com- 
 
68 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 passionate labours which he had himself found to be 
 such means of grace. 
 
 In these wise words we see a foreshadowing also 
 of his own later work, while we recall the keen and 
 loving eye with which he watched over the flocks 
 of which the Holy Ghost made him overseer, the 
 pains he took to find out the qualifications of each, 
 the faithful affection with which he sought to assign 
 to every man his work, setting himself, with all the 
 loving, discerning influence he could bring to bear, 
 against useless Church -membership either in man or 
 woman. 
 
 Thus he speaks at this time in an address on Home 
 Missions : — 
 
 ' One feature of the Christian instruction plan which 
 commends itself strongly to my mind is this, that it does 
 away with the mode of discharging that part of the 
 ministerial function which is greatly calculated to dilute 
 and enfeeble its effort — the mode, I mean, of merely making 
 an ordinary call from house to house, and afterwards 
 delivering the exhortation and uttering the petitions of the 
 service in a little congregation collected from them all. 
 Men have a fatal facility, we must be all aware, of escaping 
 the part of admonition addressed to them in company with 
 others. They hear for these others more than for them- 
 selves — seated, as it were, in the centre of the crowd, where 
 the arrow can reach them only through another's side ; and 
 so, what is suitable to many is often effective with none. 
 What is addressed to all is powerless with each. 
 
THE DIVINITY STUDENT. G9 
 
 ' The preacher, who wishes to do good, will labour above 
 all to insulate his hearers — to place each of them apart, and 
 render it impossible for him to escape in the crowd. This 
 is precisely the character of that domiciliary visitation of 
 which we speak. Its intention is to render escape impos- 
 sible. It checks that subtle delusion which would blunt 
 and turn aside the edge of that quick and powerful sword 
 which, in itself, is "sharper than a two-edged sword, and 
 is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.'" 
 
 Mr. Eobertson did not, in his ministry, avoid such 
 district gatherings as he refers to, after a day's visita- 
 tion ; but ' the Sword of the Spirit ' would, no doubt, 
 be used in his previous visitation with his accustomed 
 skill, so that when the evening came, the hearers were 
 ready to apply the truth to themselves. 
 
 From these student days and onwards he sought 
 to be on his ' guard against indiscriminate and desul- 
 tory reading as an awful consumer of time ; ' and he 
 made it a point to have always by him some profit- 
 able book — be it select biography, practical theology, 
 or any other such to which he might recur, to refresh 
 his spirit and get renewed zest for pure, evangelical 
 truth. And, along with all earnest theological investi- 
 gation, he was satisfied of the necessity of mingling 
 deep devotional exercise ; for, in this frame, the mind 
 will feel the suitableness, and authority, and worth of 
 many truths which, in a state of levity and speculative 
 dissipation, would not make the same impression. 
 
70 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 It was in the same prayerful spirit that he attended 
 the lectures of his professors, mixed with his fellow- 
 students, and waited on the ministrations of the 
 sanctuary. 
 
 In another connection he says at this time : ' If 
 our reading be confined to subjects which we cannot 
 closely, and continually, and practically apply, what 
 it will foster is not the " charity that edifieth," but 
 " the knowledge that puffeth up " — a rock ' which he 
 sought to ' learn effectually to shun.' 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 Pteacj^cr anli lE&angelist. 
 
 1839-1840. 
 
 Me. Kobertson's last session at the Hall was in 1838, 
 and the Presbytery of Stirling and Falkirk licensed 
 him to preach the gospel on the 30th of July 1839. 
 He went forth to his work under a crushing sense of 
 his unfitness and unreadiness for the ' stupendous 
 service ' he had taken in hand ; not in the fulness of 
 strength, but in feebleness ; trembling at the words, ' Not 
 a novice, etc.,' — fearful lest he should run before being 
 called ; and yet assuring himself that 'His grace would 
 be sufficient for whomsoever He sends into the work.' 
 
 A friend tells us that when he was licensed, and 
 often before, it had been regarded by many as 
 unlikely that he would ever be able to preach ; and 
 yet remarks that, ' in some marvellous way, as soon 
 as he was licensed he began to preach and to work 
 in a way few strong men could have done.' 
 
 Writing at this time of himself, he says : ' Unlooked- 
 for mercy meets me at every turn. The more we try 
 
72 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 to do for our Master the kinder He shows Himself. . . . 
 It would be a thing of hopeless drudgery without the 
 Spirit's help, but with it a thing of heartfelt joy.' 
 
 During this period he was not only preaching, 
 according to appointment, in various places on 
 Sabbaths, but addressing week-day meetings on different 
 subjects, including tract distribution, town missions, 
 temperance ; directing his attention frequently in 
 this way to the young, teaching them, among other 
 things, their duty and privilege in regard to the 
 spread of the gospel ; and specially throwing himself 
 into revival and evangelistic work wherever he had 
 an opportunity. 
 
 About this time, the Eev. Dr. John Brown of Edin- 
 burgh, in asking his services as ' a great gratification to 
 his congregation and to himself,' says : ' I trust your 
 health is not suffering from your professional engage- 
 ments. It is not generally necessary to say to either 
 young or old preachers, " Spare thyself ; " but this 
 is an injunction which I apprehend the Master is now 
 laying on you. Husband your physical energies ; 
 moderate exertion will invigorate them, over-exertion 
 may destroy them.' 
 
 We find in Mr. Eobertson's diary some notes 
 entitled, ' Gleanings in Conversation with Beggars,' 
 which contain much that is interesting and not a little 
 that is quaint. From them we learn how some of his 
 time was spent during the short periods of residence 
 at home, before he entered fully on his official duties — 
 
PREACHER AND EVANGELIST. 73 
 
 as well as on subsequent visits — and also a few of the 
 many mistaken ideas among the poor and ignorant 
 about God and salvation. From his room at Greenhill 
 where he studied he could see the beggars approach 
 the back door. Before they could be served, he was 
 round in the avenue at the end of the house waiting 
 for them. A younger member of the family was 
 puzzled as to why he was always talking to them, 
 but occasionally catching some words of the con- 
 versation, found that he was doing earnest work for 
 eternity. It is not necessary for those who knew him 
 to say that it was no official religiousness he put on ; 
 but the * well of water in him ' was ' springing up,' 
 unrestrained, ' unto eternal life,' in office or out of it. 
 
 Repeatedly he visited Kilsyth, taking part in the 
 interesting scenes there in 1839 in connection with 
 the ministry of the Eev. W. H. Burns, D.D. To other 
 places he sought to be the means of carrying similar 
 blessing, with all the hopefulness of one who shunned 
 to ' set limits to the Holy One of Israel.' 
 
 He carefully studied the movement at Kilsyth, 
 rejoicing in all that seemed wholesome ; and, while 
 throwing himself in a sympathetic manner alongside 
 of it, he was learning to discern for himself and others 
 between the true and the false. 
 
 Well persuaded that such general rousings of the 
 human spirit from lethargy have their reason and root 
 in the momentous Facts of our being and prospects — 
 considering them most reasonable and desirable, he 
 
74 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 was ever anxious to guide and keep them in such 
 channels as were in accordance with wisdom and 
 Scripture. No one shrank more from extravagances 
 of every sort, or was more concerned to keep the 
 balance of truth. 
 
 On one visit to a revival scene he says : — 
 
 ' There could be less morbid excitation, but more fervent 
 afifection ; less bustle, but more work ; less feverish agitation, 
 more wholesome fervour. 
 
 ' It cannot be denied — we have no wish to conceal — that 
 there are excesses and extravagances. Like spots on the 
 sun's disc, they appear more conspicuous from the pure and 
 holy scenes with which they are connected. 
 
 ' Have they invented any new scheme, or any novel 
 application of the old scheme for converting sinners 1 No. 
 The instruments and weapons employed are those that have 
 been always found "mighty to the puhing down of strong- 
 holds." Among these prayer has held a prominent place. 
 The wisdom of God makes use of the all-pervading power 
 of sympathy. The ardour reaches from bosom to bosom. 
 Every man's countenance, every fixed eye will preach — will 
 utter a mysterious language, that will awaken the sensibilities 
 of the most careless. . . . ' 
 
 Some years before, he Avrote : ' Infinitely rather give 
 me the turbulent excesses of vitality, than the long, quiet, 
 sealing, fearfid slumber of the lethargic soul.' 
 
 The Monthly Visitor of the Scottish Monthly Tract 
 Society for July of this year, on ' The Throne of Grace 
 or Ejaculatory Prayer,' was, we understand, from his pen. 
 
PREACHER AND EVANGELIST. 75 
 
 About this time we find liim engaged also in several 
 courses of special meetings, in Dunfermline, Alloa, 
 Bathgate, etc. etc. In arranging for one of these in 
 Alloa, in January 1840, he adds: — 
 
 ' There is a tone of healthful spirituality needed for an 
 effort like that which you contemplate, and a responsibility 
 attaching to it, the thought of which makes me shrink ; 
 but " the God of heaven He will prosper us, therefore we 
 His servants wiU arise and build." Too long have we slept 
 over the interests of Zion. The triumphing of the wicked 
 is fearful. Scarcely less so the supineness of Zion's children. 
 "It is time to seek the Lord tiU. He come and rain 
 righteousness." ' 
 
 He alludes to similar work in Dunfermline, in the 
 following letter to the same friend : — 
 
 'Musselburgh, Feb. 14, 1840. 
 ' My very dear Brother,— I long to hear how matters have 
 gone at Dunfermhne. "Want of knowledge may leave our 
 harps dumb, or want of certainty of knowledge may give 
 jarring notes and wailing tones, intermingled with our song 
 of salvation; but surely the word has "run swiftly" and 
 been " glorified." Surely angels have been rejoicing over 
 fresh conquests to the sceptre of Immanuel. Doubtless the 
 small apparent success of some of our efforts is just owing 
 to our unwillingness to cast ourselves entirely on the Lord. 
 We are everlastingly grappling at His honour. There has 
 been a looking to the supposed disparity of our means to 
 our ends, rather than to His uplifted arm, and according to 
 our unbelief so has it been to us. 
 
76 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' I was much struck and. quickened on that very delightful 
 Thursday at Bo'ness by the text for the day previous in the 
 Christian Almanack, "Ye shall not tempt the Lord your 
 God" — in the passage is added (Deut. vi.) — "as ye tempted 
 Him in Massah." And that tempting was their chiding for 
 water — the indulgence of the dishonouriug suspicion, "Is 
 the Lord among us or not ^ " and their impious demand for 
 a proof of His presence. But oh, the superaboundings of 
 His grace over the aboundings of their sin — and ours ! 
 
 ' " Behold He smote the rock, and forth 
 Came streams of waters great. " 
 
 ' The exercises of last week did send me back to my post 
 with greater fervour of trust in Christ's grace and compassion 
 for the perishing. I do feel as in a dry and thirsty land 
 here, "where no water is," and few, few are disposed to 
 speak to the rock, that it may give forth its streams. I am 
 "sowing among thorns" — "prophesying to dry bones." 
 ..." Come from the four winds, breath ! " ' 
 
 The ' post ' to which he refers in the letter quoted 
 was in Musselburgh. He was requested to go thither 
 early in 1840, by the Presbytery of Edinburgh, to try 
 and revive a cause that had been ' wasted and wellnigh 
 wrecked, by some painful incidents which had occurred 
 in connection with recent efforts made by the congrega- 
 tion to obtain a successor to the Eev. Mr. Hill, as 
 colleague to their venerable senior pastor, Mr. Black.' 
 
 A few sentences from a letter to a friend may 
 indicate the state of the congregation, as it touched 
 his peaceable nature, and also the kind of work to 
 which he had to set himself : — 
 
PREACHER AND EVANGELIST. It 
 
 ' The spirits of the belligerent party are surging " like the 
 troubled sea." In such an element He cannot dwell whose 
 emblem is the Dove. The hosts of the worldly, glad of any 
 pretext for repudiating Christianity, are passing by, wagging 
 their heads, and saying, " Behold how these Christians liate 
 one another ! " Truly, my dear friend, the deepest, deadliest 
 wounds that can be given are received when Christ is 
 "wounded in the house of His friends." The Sabbath 
 attendance has about doubled these two days. It used to 
 vary from thirty to eighty. The Sabbath - school classes 
 which I have commenced present a field of great promise. 
 I have a most interesting group of more advanced young 
 persons on the Monday, and a weekly meeting for revival 
 purposes on the Friday evenings. Cease not, beloved brother, 
 to supplicate grace to help me in this time of need. 
 
 'Hundreds are asleep, or dreaming that they are on the 
 Lord's side, while they care not for " the fatherless in their 
 affliction," and are all over " spotted with the world." . . . 
 The vile laugh at the shaking of our spear, if the Captain of 
 the Lord's host be not with us. I feel wholly shut up 
 to help from on high ! Blessed necessity ! Oh to be as 
 polished shafts in His quiver, and sharp in the hearts of 
 His enemies ! 
 
 ' I expect much from a negotiation, which I entered into 
 
 yesterday, with good Mr. and Mr. , in regard to 
 
 co-operation in a Sabbath evening meeting, in each other's 
 churches. It was with a view of preparing the way for a 
 week-day evening series, and if I get this plan carried into 
 effect, I know I may depend on your kind aid, should you 
 find it at all possible. . . . Oh, let us be fellow-intercessors 
 and fellow-helpers on the way to our Father's house. 
 
78 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' " Glorious things are spoken of thee, Zion, city of 
 God.". . .' 
 
 Some weeks later he writes to the same : — 
 
 ' I long to see you that we may puhlish with the voice of 
 thanksgiving, and tell of all His wondrous works. He is 
 making waters to hreak forth in this wilderness, and streams 
 in this desert. I have daily visits from inquirers. There 
 is real heart- work going on. . . .' 
 
 And referring to a second series of meetings about 
 to be held in Alloa, he says : — 
 
 ' Oh that He may rend the heavens, and come down to 
 the rescue of Mansoul. . . . Let us ask and expect largely. 
 •' Intimate the morning meetings 1 " Surely. They are the 
 true meter of the interest. All our success here is to be 
 traced to prayer ! 
 
 ' As to preaching on the Sabbath evening, I need not say 
 how glad I would be to try it, if I did not apprehend danger. 
 During the past ten days I have preached seven times, and 
 addressed six, so that my strength is well worn. I might 
 disable myself for the work of the week by a Sabbath of exces- 
 sive effort. Could you not get some other to take half of the 
 day ? I dare not engage on any other terms. Alas for this 
 " vile body " ! How it encumbers and weighs us down. Oh 
 that we had a thousand hearts and a thousand tongues to 
 magnify the name that is " above every name." 
 
 ' " His worth, if all the nations knew, 
 
 Sure the whole world would love Him too." ' 
 
 Besides the general work of these meetings in 
 Alloa, ' he went and hunted out people ' in the poorer 
 
PEEACHER AND EVANGELIST. 79 
 
 districts, and, it is understood, held little meetings 
 there, engaged the young to visit the sick, etc. 
 
 One says of this time : — ' He had certainly a most 
 extraordinary hold over people's minds. I have tried 
 to analyse it, but I cannot. I know that when I had 
 not seen him for years, he would only have had to say 
 to me I should do a thing, and I would have done it, 
 never looking at difficulties.' 
 
 Soon after these meetings, one congregation in 
 Alloa in connection with which they were held (the 
 First United Secession) had occasion to consider the 
 propriety of engaging a missionary to labour in the 
 neglected districts, and to act as a partial assistant 
 to their own minister, the Eev. P. M'Dowall, who was 
 then in broken health. A congregational meeting 
 was called to consider the question, when a new and 
 unexpected thought was found to have taken posses- 
 sion of the people ; and it was resolved by them to 
 take the necessary steps to invite Mr. Eobertson to be 
 colleague and successor to their pastor, and to assist in 
 missionary work as well. After these wishes began 
 to be first mooted, Mr. Eobertson carefully sought to 
 avoid putting himself in the way of the people, and 
 regarded the whole affair as having much in it of the 
 stuff that dreams are made of. But the hearts of the 
 people seemed set on him. 
 
 The call had some attractions, and when there was 
 nothing indistinct or dubious in ' the vision,' it appeared 
 imperative on him to ponder it, with all the calm- 
 
80 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ness he was able to commaud — a calmness that was 
 weighted with his 'apprehensive and overwhelming 
 consciousness of inadequacy to such a work.' 
 
 After six months' labour at Musselburgh as a pro- 
 bationer, the congregation there also called him to be 
 its pastor. ' The news of Musselburgh did not sur- 
 prise me ' (it was said to him). ' The people there 
 would neither have been grateful enough, nor selfish 
 enough if they had not called you.' Other competing 
 calls came, at the same time, from Dunfermline and 
 Partick. 
 
 In the midst of the consideration of these calls, his 
 spiritual work, in various places, was rejoicing his 
 heart, and he was gathering fruit which continues to 
 this day. 
 
 He writes to Mr. M'Dowall (to whom several of the 
 foregoing and following letters are addressed) : — 
 
 ' . . . Circumstances have set me a-thinking, this week, 
 of a sermon on "fighting the good fight of faith." I feel 
 a firm faith that the cause of genuine revival among you 
 will, in the long run, be promoted by all such innocuous 
 attempts of Satan to impede it. Oh for firmer faith in 
 Divine direction, amid the present perplexed intertwinements 
 of my path ! I do wish to give myself up to the guidance 
 of that Pole Star, and to follow whithersoever it leads. 
 When almost sinking "at His feet as dead" with anxiety, 
 I am often rallied by recollecting how He laid His right 
 hand, with solemn grandeur and gentleness, on John, saying, 
 " Fear not, I am the Living One." 
 
 ' He " has the key of death," and so long as He has work 
 
PREACHER AND EVANGELIST. 81 
 
 for either of lis to do, He will neither turn the key, nor 
 suffer man or devil to injure a hair of our head. Oh to 
 learn more confiding love, where John learned it, on the 
 bosom of the Master ! ' 
 
 ' I have had visits this week from the commissioners of 
 the different congregations. . . I wish to put a blank for 
 everytliing into that Hand which was nailed to the cross for 
 me. 
 
 ' !N"ever was preaching such sweet work as it is now-a-days 
 surely ! I thmk I have seen results that it were worth while 
 to have come into being for, Avorth living for, worth dying 
 for, a thousand times over ! ' 
 
 In some of the evangelistic work to which reference 
 has been made, Mr. James Morison, a fellow-student 
 (afterwards minister at Kilmarnock, and now Principal 
 of the Evangelical Union Church, Glasgow), was a 
 fellow-labourer. Together they visited many places 
 in the middle and north of Scotland. In the north 
 as well as elsewhere, their united work is still remem- 
 bered as fruitful of good. It is said that in their 
 meetings Mr. Morison usually took the first part, 
 addressing himself to the conscience with the object 
 of arousing and alarming ; while it fell to Mr. liobertson 
 afterwards to set forth free grace — * the blessings of 
 goodness ' which anticipate and are prepared for the 
 cry of need. 
 
 The die was cast in regard to Alloa, and he wrote to 
 the clerk of Presbytery : — 
 
 ' I beg to make known through you to the Presbytery. . . . 
 
 F 
 
82 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 that, after mature deliberation, I find it my duty to decline 
 the call addressed to me by the first congregation of Alloa. 
 My feelings towards that congregation I shall probably have 
 other opportunities of expressing to themselves. The pain I 
 feel at thus disappointing their wishes is greatly alleviated by 
 the fact that they are already so highly favoured with an 
 efficient pastorship.' 
 
 Meantime he writes to their pastor: — 
 
 '. . . . I AVas detained (blessed detention) at Bridge of 
 Teith, till late last night, by inquirers. They came sua sponte. 
 God was among us of a truth. I have been preparmg some- 
 thing for the afternoon on "the waters" from "the well of 
 life." . . . 
 
 ' The accompanying letter has fallen in my Avay to-night, 
 
 and I have requested the loan of it from . I send it to 
 
 you to "comfort you concerning the work and labour of 
 your hands." . . . How much more of the seed which you 
 have watched, and wept, and prayed over, may be germinat- 
 ing beneath the soil ! . . . 
 
 'I feel every day more deeply the solemn necessity of 
 simple views of the gospel, and of vigilant solicitude that 
 they be exhibited just as they stand in the record of mercy, 
 without adulteration, addition, or change. It is no light 
 matter to handle eternal truth, connected as it is — every 
 word of it — with the honour of Jesus. . . .' 
 
 During the years 1834 and 1835, Mr. Robertson 
 seems to have read and thought not a little on the 
 nature and extent of the Atonement, and questions 
 akin to these ; and we find notes expressing in un- 
 
PREACHER AND EVANGELIST. 83 
 
 mistakeable terms the conclusions to which he was 
 led. Thus he saw his way, even at this early period, 
 to that unfettered offer of the blessings of salvation 
 which is now happily characteristic of evangelical 
 preaching in Scotland, but which, at that time, some 
 did not feel warranted to make, through fear of not 
 giving due prominence to Di\dne Sovereignty in the 
 work of redemption. Whilst he held unhesitatingly 
 the great truth on the Divine side of the question, 
 his conclusion on the human side is found expressed 
 in such words as these : ' Christ died for me and for 
 every man in such a sense as warrants me and every 
 man to regard the offer of pardon as made to us 
 without distinction,' and more in the same strain. 
 
CHAP TEE VII. 
 
 ilHinistrg in i^usselfiurflfj. 
 
 1840-1847. 
 
 Of the four calls, ' he bravely chose that which, to the 
 common view, seemed the least desirable, where the 
 work would be the heaviest, the battle the hardest,' 
 and the temporal advantages to be reaped the lowest. 
 
 The ordination took place at Musselburgh on 
 Tuesday the 27th of October 1840. 
 
 ' It was then,' writes the Eev. Dr. Joseph Brown, at that 
 time in Dalkeith, ' that my acquaintance with ]\Ir. Robertson 
 began. The intercourse of neighbour ministers shortly ripened 
 into friendship, and that friendship led to frequent fellowship, 
 in the course of Avhich we never knew the joy of reconcilia- 
 tion, for we had never known alienation or estrangement. 
 
 ' I remember Avell with what energy and zeal he set himself 
 to build up the walls that had been broken doAvn, and to 
 repair the desolations that had been wrought, and with what 
 success his efforts were croAvned. He succeeded in infusing 
 something of his own spirit into those whom his ministry 
 drew around him ; and, by God's blessing on His own work, 
 and the efforts of those who had a mind to work along with 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 85 
 
 him, the congregation grew in numbers and influence, and 
 attained a condition of comparative prosperity.' 
 
 A week after his ordination he wrote : — 
 
 ' . . . I have made shift to occupy once more my little 
 sentry-box here. It was a melting day to me. The idea 
 came over me several times, so as almost to unman me, that 
 if the trumpet be not seasonably blown, the ruin of souls — 
 the victims of my unfaithfulness — may be found charged to 
 my account in the book of God's remembrance ! Oh pray 
 hard, my dear . ... I need wisdom, much " meek- 
 ness of Avisdom." . . .' 
 
 And a little later : — 
 
 * My tale of work here is growing very heavy, but the 
 Lord is very gracious, and raises up friends on all sides. 
 The "well of life" is springing up hopefully in some hearts. 
 ... I know you bear me on your heart. In Him who 
 bears us both on His, I am, yours ever lovingly, J. R.' 
 
 ' . . . Since the loss of the fishermen I have been preach- 
 ing to that class every week. The Lord is setting before me 
 " an open door." I am not anxious about the future. My 
 business is with present duty. Usefulness, usefulness ! that 
 is the point. The congregation is daily increasing. . . . 
 'Tis like a little heaven — to go to heaven in — when we get 
 loAV at His feet, and feast (while feeding others) on " Love 
 Divine, all love excelling."' 
 
 Mrs. Lyall, of Adelaide, South Australia (wife of 
 the Eev. James Lyall), who has long occupied a posi- 
 tion of much usefulness there, thus records in 1883 
 her impression of those early days : — 
 
86 JAMEvS ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' My early recollections go as far back as forty-three years. 
 I was at his ordination in the little church of Bridge Street, 
 Musselburgh. All the others of our family who were present 
 that day have joined the family above. Mr. Robertson had 
 other calls, if I mistake not, and chose Mvisselburgh because 
 it was in a depressed state at that time. 
 
 ' Our parents joined his church at his ordination, because of 
 his winning power with children. I used to hear he had 
 only tAvelve families on whom he coidd count ; but he soon 
 gathered round him a larger and warmly attached congrega- 
 tion. Some, like ourselves, walked several miles to church, 
 coming from Edinburgh, Portobello, etc. 
 
 ' Mr. Robertson's aim was to make the congregation like a 
 large, loving, busy family. The new members then were 
 always publicly received in the church, as is common now, 
 and he contended that no worldly introduction Avas needed 
 after that ; and the old members were expected to fraternize 
 forthwith with the new ones. 
 
 ' The Sabbath services had such a charm for us children 
 that to be obliged to remain at home was no small trial. 
 A rainy day (and it can rain in dear old Scotland) was 
 never imagined to be a hindrance. We simply dressed 
 accordingly. 
 
 'The interval between morning and afternoon service 
 was spent in the session-room, and it was often made radiant 
 to us little ones by Mr. Robertson's looking in to speak to 
 my father (who was one of his elders), while with his two 
 hands he was going over all of us, giving each a benign 
 look, and a hearty shake of the hand. How we did love 
 him ! and so heavenly did he seem to us, that my sister, 
 whom he baptized in 1841, remarked, when quite a little 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 87 
 
 girl, that "oiir Saviour," she supposed, "would be just like 
 Mr. Eobertson," 
 
 'He was often troubled then with a constitutional 
 aflection of the heart, and his impression was that his 
 life would be a short one, and certainly he made the most 
 of it. 
 
 'The Sabbath school met from four till five, and even 
 after his two sermons, when he must have been quite 
 exhausted, he generally gave us a few words at the close, 
 and, whatever else was forgotten, they were not. 
 
 ' In his ordinary discourses he always dropped some 
 crumbs for the children, which kept us on the outlook. 
 Then there were periodical sermons to the young, in the 
 afternoon, when there was a specially large attendance ; for 
 the parents, as used to be remarked, liked "the bairns' 
 meat." It is needless to add that the love of the Divine 
 Redeemer to the young was his favourite theme on these 
 occasions. 
 
 ' Mr. Robertson educated his young people thoroughly in 
 their duty to missions, home and foreign. He had a fine 
 band of active and attached young men. 
 
 ' I remember one benighted village at which a service was 
 held by two or three young men on their way home from 
 church. 
 
 ' And as regards foreign missions, it cheered his heart when 
 one of our family ^ Q-ong since gone to rest) went, years 
 after, to labour in the West Indies ; and still later, another 
 — she whom he baptized — went as a missionary's wife to the 
 New Hebrides ; ^ her missionary zeal being kindled from her 
 
 1 Tlie Rev. Wm. Wliitecross, Grand Cayman, 
 - Mrs. Paton, of Tanna, 
 
0» JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 earliest days hy such verses as : " Would you wish to be 
 told the best use of a jDenny ? " etc. 
 
 'Mr. Kobertson also established a mothers' meeting, the 
 influence of Avliich was very helpful and blessed to anxious 
 mothers. I used to hear often of this agency, my mother 
 being secretary. 
 
 'He did not spare himself from outside work either. 
 When he came to visit us, he would hold a service in a 
 schoolroom in the town in which we lived ; and as it was 
 too far for him to return that evening, unless he drove, he 
 remained all night with us. These were as angels' visits ! 
 The first one I specially remember. The hours after the 
 service sped so rapidly, first in drawing from iis what we 
 recollected of the sermon, and bright, loving talk, then in 
 listening to his converse with our parents, that twelve 
 o'clock had arrived before we were aware, and we children 
 had to say " Good-night " — going reluctantly away, feeling it 
 was all too short, in such loved society. At family worship 
 he asked that we children might so live that others might 
 take knowledge of us that we had been with Jesus. 
 
 ' During those years we were often sent messages by my 
 father to Mr. Robertson, but I never recollect his missing 
 an opportunity of speaking to me about the Saviour, and 
 pressing home His claims upon my love and service. It was 
 done in no formal way, but out of the very abundance of a 
 heart full of love to Christ, and yearning for souls ; and 
 though the young heart was too timid to respond, the impres- 
 sion was made, never perhaps to be effaced. 
 
 'In the year 1843, when the thrill of sorrow ran through 
 the churches at the early death of the sainted M'Cheyne, he 
 made full use of it, and seemed doubly earnest to work while 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 89 
 
 it was day, inspiring others Avith his own divinely-received 
 fervour. 
 
 'In 1846 we passed from his ministry to that of Mr. 
 M'Dowall, and he kindly asked two of lis to write regularly 
 to him. My business was to give an account of the 
 sermons we heard ; thus he kept hold of us, while yet we 
 had made no open profession of being Christ's. 
 
 'Various other incidents come into my mind, but it is 
 difficult to write without being personal. 
 
 ' About my childhood's most beloved minister, I have had 
 two thoughts more or less life-long. One is, that the theme 
 of the successful preacher must be " Jesus Christ and Him 
 crucified ; " the other is, the enduring influence of a pastor 
 who can reach the hearts of little children. 
 
 * Of course Mr. Robertson was naturally very attractive 
 to young people ; but if young ministers, not so gifted, 
 would take special care to cultivate the winning grace that 
 draws the children, for their Master's sake, they would be 
 much more influential in leading them to Him. Mr. Robert- 
 son's words to us about the Lord Jesus were so genuine, so 
 bright, and so loving, that we could never think them weari- 
 some or commonplace ; and, all through life, to think of Mm 
 has been to remember his Master.' 
 
 Another writes : — 
 
 ' . . . I had no close intercourse with him, though I knew 
 him very well, and loved him. 
 
 ' When I was young, I used to go to hear him at Mussel- 
 burgh, and would have then walked ten miles, and sat hours, 
 to hear him preach. There was something wonderfully attract- 
 ive about his youthful ministry — great natural power and 
 
90 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 eloquence, a melting, winning manner, and also very clear 
 and powerful expositions of the truth. So it all appeared 
 to me then. What I would think now I know not ; I 
 have no reason to think I would think differently. He 
 seemed, up to the last of my personal knowledge of him, 
 to be always the same loving, gentle-spirited man, averse 
 to sectarian bigotries, and Avilling to " forgather " with all 
 who loved the Lord.' 
 
 From Musselburgh, Mr. Eobertson writes : — 
 
 'October 11, 1841. 
 
 ' We have had a prayer-encompassed week. The Lord 
 has been uniting our hearts to call upon His name. Nearly 
 all parties here have been co-operating — praying, etc., in 
 each other's churches. . . . The Master is manifesting com- 
 passion and favour to me in my work here, beyond all 
 expectation great. The joy is ours, the glory His ! ' 
 
 In asking ministerial assistance at an evening social 
 meeting, he says : — ' The general plan ... is to insist upon 
 all the different ways in which a truly Christian people, in 
 all their different spheres of life, may aid their minister, in 
 
 the promotion of the work of God. Your friend takes 
 
 the general topic, speaks to elders, you to mothers, if 
 
 possible, etc' 
 
 On another similar occasion : — ' I announce as your text for 
 the anniversary meeting : " The church ought to be liberal." 
 Don't spare the churls.' 
 
 ' I have had a weary, weeping seed-time here, but the 
 harvest is begun. . . . Street preaching on the Sabbath 
 evenings I have found to be a remarkable auxiliary, in 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 91 
 
 connection with our congregational Christian Instruction 
 Society. The estabhshnient of this species of agency is 
 quite a novelty in this burgh. I am persuaded that the 
 instrumentality of such " helpers " in our churches admits 
 of much addition and vast improvement. 
 
 'There is another plan which I have found singularly 
 successful. The folks pour in questions (anonymously) on 
 Bible subjects ; to the public answering of which I have 
 had to devote an additional evening every week. Not one 
 (among many scores which have been already taken up) 
 has been a question of curiosity or of speculation. They 
 come out in unwonted numbers to all the week-evening 
 meetings, and yesterday afternoon the church was nearly as 
 full as it was when you preached among us " the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ." My strength is carried to its full stretch, 
 but oh, how delightful the exercise of faith in going to the 
 Strong for more ! 
 
 ' I do fear that " the clouds " of Synod-time may " return 
 after the rain " yet. "We were indeed " led in a way that we 
 knew not," and found ourselves " like them that dreamed," 
 believing not for joy and wondering. But it is much too 
 soon yet 
 
 ' " to speak of it and smile, 
 
 Like mariners, who, on the peaceful shore, 
 Sit, and with pleasure talk of dangers o'er." 
 
 ' Must we not " rejoice with trembling " 1 ' 
 
 'November 17, 1841. 
 ' . . . Yours has found me a bit of an invalid, i.e. con- 
 valescent ; but, since this day week, I have been passing 
 through a pretty sharp storm of tribulation. There is no 
 
92 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 denying that extra work, with exposure to cold, brought it 
 on, . . . The doctor tells me I must spend another silent 
 Sabbath, else I will be unfitted for going to you. Rather 
 than that this should be the consequence, I will not " peep, 
 or mutter, or move the wing." ... I wish, by all means, to 
 say Tes to you and your children. [This was in response 
 to a request that he would address the Sabbath-school child- 
 ren at their annual meeting.] . . . Have I anything to do 
 on Sabbath but the evening sermon and table address 1 
 IsTo fencings,^ I hope ? Please relieve me from them. . . . 
 If you intend throwing off a hymn for each of the children, 
 I could send you a nice new one on missions. . . .' 
 
 In reply to the remark, ' So you have been putting a rod 
 into your Father's hand, and He has been using it. The 
 Lord bless the smiting, etc.,' — he says : ' Like dew upon the 
 parched spirit, yours, so tender, so soothing, came in just 
 now, and found me "sitting alone and keeping silence, 
 because of this rod." I feel as if all the world had gone 
 wrong — " all the foundations out of course," when Sabbath 
 " returns, but not to me returns " liberty to plead for God. 
 Our Father knows what will be a trial to us. I have not vis 
 to preach to-morrow, however eager. . . . 
 
 ' Please do exempt me from these fencings, and the rest 
 may all stand. The Monday evening will suit nicely for the 
 nursing of the lambs. I shall rejoice to lend a hand. 
 
 ' Let us make a point of special prayer for special visitations 
 
 ^ The word ' fencing ' refers to the custom, common in former days 
 in Scotland, of 'fencing the tables,' i.e. indicating classes of persons 
 who had no right to partake of the Communion. This was usually 
 done on the Communion day itself, and in that respect was uncon- 
 genial to Mr. Robertson's mind ; he considered it should be done at 
 an earlier stage. 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 93 
 
 of heavenly influence at your solemn feast, — " as in the days 
 
 of old:' 
 
 ' " As we have seen Him heretofore 
 Within that holy place." 
 
 ' Hasten on, happy eternity, when we shall see His face, 
 without a veil between. "Our light affliction." . . . My 
 love to the little ones. God Himself be their Father, the 
 Guide of their youth, their unfailing Friend.' 
 
 In July 1842, Mr. Eobertson was under call to the 
 pastorate of the congregation worshipping in Lothian 
 Road Church, Edinburgh. The call had been signed 
 by 8 7 9 members and adherents. Notwithstanding the 
 recognition of this as a specially encouraging post of 
 labour, and of much in it that ministered to the 
 gratification of earthly motives, there was still the 
 unbiassed wish to listen honestly to the responding 
 Spirit, and to pursue faithfully the path of hioiun duty, 
 whithersoever it led. It ended, as usual with him, 
 on what seemed from most points of view the self- 
 sacrificing side. The call was refused, and Mr. 
 Eobertson remained in Musselburgh six years longer. 
 
 Writing about a year and half later, he says (in 
 connection with some ministerial engagements) : — 
 
 ' " Man proposeth, but God disposeth." He leads us round, 
 but He leads us right. ... I preached yesterday with great 
 comfort. The Lord is "making us glad, according to the 
 days wherein He hath afflicted us." Oh for a praising heart ! 
 Do you remember the hymn ? 
 
 ' " I asked the Lord that I might grow 
 In fdith and love and every grace." 
 
94 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' I hope I have been learning to be less solicitous about 
 gilding or ornamenting the " Sword of the Spirit," and more 
 about trusting to its native power. How much of self one 
 may detect in all his work ! and how often we dress up 
 the abomination in the garb of Christian zeal, and then 
 admire it ! But it will not do. Self must be in the dust, 
 and Christ exalted. 
 
 ' K^eed we feel surprised, if He every now and then causes 
 a thorn hedge to grow up before us ? This He has promised, 
 to keep us from wandering. My beloved friend, when past 
 unprofitableness grieves us, let the supports and revivings 
 we have so frequently received excite our gratitude, and the 
 promises, which "flow clear as crystal from the throne of the 
 Lamb," refresh us in going forward. 
 
 ' We know not which of us shall first cross Jordan — we 
 shaE meet on the shores of the Canaan that Ave love, to 
 weep and sin no more ! 
 
 ' I trust your dear little girls are not thinking I have for- 
 gotten them, or my promise to them. Something that I 
 wished to send them I have not yet succeeded in securing. 
 Will they have a little more patience with me, and accept, 
 in the meanwhile, of all possible love, with these little books, 
 which I have just now found in my desk ? 
 
 . . . All the sanctifying and consolatory blessings of the 
 covenant be yours, imparted to you all, as you need, all 
 your journey through, till you reach your happy home.' 
 
 We find among his papers belonging to this time, 
 one containing the ' Constitution and Laws of the 
 Musselburgh Association for the Promotion of Tem- 
 perance through means of the Church ' — a ' society of 
 
MINISTEY IN MUSSELBURGH. 95 
 
 professing Christian al)stainers,' whose ' specific object ' 
 was ' enlisting tlie interest of the friends of the 
 Eedeemer in behalf of the Temperance movement.' 
 
 Not a few of the early abstainers were so because 
 they were Christians, and carried on their advocacy of 
 the cause on gospel grounds. ' Gospel Temperance ' 
 may be a new name, but it is not a new thing. Some 
 years ago, a gentleman remarked to a friend : ' I once 
 heard Mr. Eobertson preach a temperance sermon — 
 oh, a long time ago. " They that used curious arts 
 brought their books and burned them," was the 
 text.' 
 
 Knowing how the need of every unsaved sinner in 
 every audience he addressed was ever present to Mr. 
 Eobertson's mind, the friend asked, ' You would get 
 the gospel before he was done ? ' 
 
 ' It was gos^Kl all through^ was the reply. 
 
 Alluding, in 1834, to a measure proposed then for 
 stemming ' the putrid and stormy stream of pauperism 
 swelled by the tippling customs of the country,' he 
 adds : — 
 
 ' It is not so much a work of self-denial as the policy of 
 self-defence, by which w^e evade the fatal necessity of lying 
 entirely at the mercy of events. He — whatever be his station 
 — who withholds his quota of influence from the remedy, 
 may justly consider himself as accessory to the ruin. And if 
 there is a man to be found who is perfectly reconciled to let 
 the fiery flood roll on, his moral structure is such as I shall 
 never envy.' 
 
96 JAMES ROBERTSON". 
 
 Eeferring to an application by a Total Abstinence 
 Society for some service, Mr. Eobertson wrote from 
 Musselburgh in 1847 : — 
 
 ' . . . I felt it necessary to refuse tlie request on account 
 of their mode of managing their social meetings especially. 
 The staple of the entertainment given at such meetings con- 
 sists of songs and aU the frivolities of the baU-room. I was 
 not aware, till very lately, of the extent to which these 
 things had become identified in the public mind with the 
 teetotal cause. I have Avritten remonstrances to them, but I 
 know not yet Avith Avhat success. We have a society here 
 on the principles of tlie " Edinburgh Association for the 
 promotion of the cause through means of the Church," and it 
 is with this I am connected. Let me have the happiness 
 of hearing from you soon on this and other subjects.' 
 
 In the summer of 1845, a great sorrow overspread 
 the family at Greenhill. A younger son, George, who 
 had been ordained the previous autumn over the 
 congregation at Busby, was, after a short pastorate 
 of eight months, suddenly removed by death, 'while 
 yet the dew of youth was upon him,' to higher 
 service. 
 
 The Eev. Dr. Cairns, who knew him well, wrote 
 of him at the time : ' Earely has a larger circle of 
 tenderly attached friends been enveloped in so dark 
 a cloud of grief. Few characters have been more 
 simple in their outline, or more harmonious in their 
 proportions, so thoroughly had his whole being grown 
 up under the training of the Spirit, that it was hard 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 97 
 
 to distinguish in him grace from nature. Any 
 one more ingenuous, tender, and confiding, it is 
 impossible to conceive. His domestic and social 
 affections were vigorous and pure ; and selfishness, 
 malignity, and envy seemed utterly unknown 
 to him ; while all the features of his character 
 were irradiated by the hallowed light of Christi- 
 anity, which shone from within as from a lighted 
 candle.' 
 
 To James, whose kindred spirit he was, the parting 
 from such a brother was no common sorrow. From 
 their earliest years their love for each other was 
 wonderful. They were of one mind and of one heart 
 — their sympathies met and intertwined, and in 
 nothing more than in ' whatsoever things were pure, 
 and lovely, and of good report.' 
 
 But sorrow to James never meant the folding of 
 the hands. Work was always its outcome, and its 
 cure ; and from this date a fresh impetus was given to 
 his spiritual life and labours, as the voice came to 
 him with solemnizing power : ' Work while it is day — 
 the night cometh.' 
 
 And the Church knows how unceasingly during the 
 thirty-four years that followed he did work until the 
 night came. 
 
 As one says, speaking of his early ministry : ' His 
 labours were of no ordinary kind ... he laboured 
 night and day far beyond his strength, and often we 
 feared he would fill an early grave.' 
 
 G 
 
98 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 In October 1845, after ripe acquaintance, Mr. 
 Eobertson was married to Eliza, second daughter of 
 Mr. Alexander Baird, Marshill, Alloa, one who was in 
 full sympathy with him in his aims and work. Under 
 her influence he could gladly and freely place any of 
 those whose spiritual welfare he sought, knowing that 
 her conversation would tend to draw them upwards, 
 and confirm his own teaching. 
 
 The members of his flock found in her a gentle and 
 sympathizing friend, in quiet association with whom 
 the light of Scripture was thrown on their path, while 
 her habit of quoting choice sayings which she had 
 freshly culled from some author old or new, contributed 
 to the elevation of their intercourse and their mutual 
 quickening. * 
 
 In writing to a friend, whom he regarded as having, 
 like himself, received his partner from the Lord, he 
 adds, ' How exactly suited to each other they and 
 we are, mind to mind, and heart to heart ! How 
 additionally dear to us the throne of grace by their 
 fellowship with us there ! How lightsome is our 
 work, when we can take sweet counsel with them 
 concerning it all ! ' 
 
 His dread of any other union than one ' in the 
 Lord,' for any young friend in whom he was in- 
 terested, was often emphatically pressed on such as 
 needed or sought his counsel ; and he would further 
 advise long and thorough acquaintance, before ventur- 
 ing on such a tie, with all its bearings, not only on 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 99 
 
 their temporal, but on their spiritual and eternal well- 
 being. 
 
 In the following letter to his father-in-law, Mr. 
 Eobertson refers to the aged pastor of the congregation 
 in Musselburgh, who had resigned his position during 
 the troubles which preceded Mr. Eobertson's settle- 
 ment there : — 
 
 ' 4th February 1846. 
 
 ' I find this an unusually busy week, owing to arrange- 
 ments that devolve upon me in connection with Mr. Black's 
 funeral ; so that I can send you little more than a note of 
 remembrance and apology. . . . Mr. Black had a very quiet 
 dismission. It was just the standing still of the weary, 
 worn-out wheels of life. He sustained, in connection with 
 this congregation, the pastoral office for more than half a 
 century. He retired from active duty about six years ago, 
 and was followed into his retirement with much affection 
 and esteem from his flock and friends. And now, at the 
 age of eighty-three, lu^ has been gathered to his rest. My 
 connection with him (though it was not what is properly 
 called a collegiate union) has been a source to me of much 
 enjoyment. There has never been a single jarring note to 
 mar our happy concord. He ever treated me with all the 
 kindness of a parent, and my "heart safely trusted in 
 him." . . .' 
 
 ' Blessed gospel that sustains you,' said the younger 
 minister to the elder, on his deathbed. ' Oh yes,' 
 responded the other, ' the very gospel you have been 
 
100 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 preaching ever since you came among us. Preach on 
 that way to the very end.' 
 
 The following extracts are taken from the dis- 
 course preached by Mr. Eobertson after Mr. Black's 
 funeral : — 
 
 ' . . . One day, while walking in the garden, he 
 ajjpeared quite overpowered with emotion ; and, on 
 being asked if he felt ill, he replied, " No, — but, 
 ' having loved His own, He loves them unto the 
 end.'" . . . 
 
 ' The last time we prayed together, Jesus was spoken 
 of as a " long-tried Friend." He seized my hand and 
 exclaimed, " Long-tried Friend indeed ! tried and 
 trusty ! " and then he attempted to utter the lines : 
 
 ' " I'll praise my Saviour while I've breath, 
 
 And, when my voice is lost in death, ■ 
 
 Praise shall employ my noblest powers. 
 My days of praise shall ne'er be past. 
 While life, and thought, and being last, 
 
 Or immortality endures. "... 
 
 ' . . . " One there is above all others," whose work 
 is finished, and who is now the witness of ours. He 
 is present with us always. He is present with us 
 here. Christian ! let us catch His spirit, and we shall 
 be wise. Let us lean on His arm, and we shall be 
 strong. Let us identify ourselves more fully with 
 His cause, and we shall see the salvation of God. 
 Blessed Jesus, we are Thine. Thou hast loved us and 
 given Thyself for us. We would live to Thee, die to 
 Thee, and dwell with Thee for ever ! 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 101 
 
 ' Unconverted sinner, we weep for the dead. But 
 who are the dead ? The dead in Christ ? No. They 
 are " not dead, but sleeping." 
 
 ' We weep for the dead — the dead in sin. We 
 weep for the dead, and we weep for you. Had I the 
 tongues of men and of angels, could I find words in 
 the languages of earth or heaven too strong to press 
 upon your instant acceptance the glorious gospel of 
 the blessed God ? It is God's own message, on God's 
 own authority, with God's own evidence about remis- 
 sion of sins through the Saviour's atoning blood, and 
 renewal of nature by the Saviour's quickening Spirit. 
 
 ' This salvation is laid down at your door. It 
 comes to you as a free gift — free as the cheerful light 
 and the vital air. Eeceive it, and be safe. Eeceive 
 it, and be happy. Eeceive it, and put away from you 
 the shudderings of guilt and the fears of death. How 
 shall we prevail with you ? Would you tell us the 
 way to your heart ? We have tried almost every way. 
 Is it yet in vain ? We have shifted the position of 
 the pulpit from Sabbath to Sabbath. We have 
 placed it one day close by the gate of heaven, and 
 another near the gate of hell. At one time, beneath 
 Sinai, with its blazing lightnings and its pealing 
 thunders ; and at another time on Calvary, where we 
 have lingered round the cross and drawn our argu- 
 ments from its blood, and shame, and woe. And now 
 to-day, we have been led to the "grave's devouring 
 mouth," whence a voice comes back on your memory 
 
102 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 and your heart, beseeching you, with all the solemn 
 and moving accompaniments of eternity, to come and 
 lie down, as a perishing man, on the truth and mercy 
 of Jesus. 
 
 ' Yes, the " dead " seem to " speak," and beseech 
 you to come. And the living beseech you to come. 
 " The Spirit and the bride say. Come." We are wait- 
 ing till you come. Your coming will change the 
 character of this assembly. Though we mourn over 
 the dead, we will rejoice over you. And of that joy 
 your departed pastor will be one of the hajDpy 
 partakers.' 
 
 What an interested and loving member had been 
 introduced into the circle from which he had chosen 
 a wife, was shown both in his correspondence and 
 in all his subsequent action. 
 
 To his sister-in-law he writes : — 
 
 ' How kind it has been in you to anticipate and relieve 
 our anxieties, by writing so regularly in regard to our worth}'- 
 father [who was seriously ill]. , . . We hope to hear 
 to-morrow what answer has come from Dr. A. . . . But it 
 is only in a very subordinate sense that we are in the hands 
 of physicians or other advisers. We are in Divine Hands, 
 the Hands that were pierced for us, the Hands from which 
 no foreign power can pluck us. Yea, we are persuaded 
 that even " Death shall not be able." 
 
 ' We are delighted to know that his spirits are so stayed 
 and cheerful, and trust that he Avill continue to be buoyed 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 103 
 
 up, and carried through, on the "Everlasting Arms." . . . 
 Health is a precious blessing, but the pearl of greatest 
 price is Holiness. 
 
 ' I have just now been interrupted again for an hour . . . 
 but it is one of those interruptions of which I wish we had 
 many thousands more — a person under deep spiritual concern, 
 eagerly asking the safe way into eternity. 
 
 ' I often think (and especially of late, when so many of 
 them have been going hence) that we would do well to make 
 use of our good old friends, as we do of our borrowed books. 
 If we have a book of our own, we think we can read it at 
 any time ; but when we borrow a book, and know Ave must 
 return it soon, we make the most of it (at least ought to 
 make the most of it) while we have it. So, surely, should 
 we be concerned to make use of pious friends, and to gain 
 advantages from them, ere they leave us for better society 
 and purer joys. Oh that He whose providence has so 
 sweetly united us as one family here, may bring every 
 one belongmg to our circle to His own happy Home 
 hereafter. . . .' 
 
 To his father-in-law : — 
 
 ' . . . I have been up during part of last night with the 
 senior member of my session — a valuable old Christian of 
 eighty-seven, who seems fast sinking under the accumulated 
 weight of infirmities and years. . . . Perhaps you may 
 remember how much I wished that you and he had met, 
 when you first visited us ; but he was unable to come. 
 
 ' He was long a prosperous merchant . . . has had many 
 "sore adversities" during his long pilgrimage, but he has 
 extracted the sweet from the bitter, and always speaks of his 
 
104 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 trials as his " best mercies." His experience now is a most 
 impressive illustration of the divine power of the gospel to 
 impart tranquillity and hope in a dying hour. There is per- 
 fect naturahiess in his composure — nothing ostentatious, 
 nothing enthusiastic. All is unfeigned simplicity. He said 
 to me on Sabbath, " God is my Eock. He hath made with 
 me an everlasting covenant, and He cannot lie. He is 
 faithful and true." Every word indeed, and every look, 
 bespeaks his fullest confidence of being "accepted in the 
 Beloved," and that for him death has no sting. 
 
 ' . . . How delightful to feel that the stroke, which severs 
 every other tie, cannot touch the tie that connects a soul 
 with Christ ! Whatever is meant by being in Christ is the 
 same after death as before it. And, among those that are 
 friends in Christ, there is a bond of union Avhich eternity 
 itself shall never wear to weakness. 
 
 ' Let us be satisfied with nothing short of Christ's having 
 His proper place, on the very throne of the hearts of those we 
 love, and of our own. Then shall we have true comfort in 
 their death, and they in ours ; and we shall be bound up in 
 the same bundle when the angel reapers shall gather in the 
 harvest. 
 
 My beloved B. is an invaluable helper in my work of 
 visiting the sick and dying ; and the more we try to labour 
 for Christ, the happier we are. . . .' 
 
 From the Vale of Clyde, to the same : — 
 
 ' . . . I feel disposed to address the excellent friend I am 
 assisting in the words of the spouse, in Solomon's Song : 
 " thou that dwellest in the gardens " — for the whole strath, 
 for many miles, is one continued orchard, and, amid the rich 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 105 
 
 blossoming of the season, it presents one blaze of beauty. 
 Oh the wondrous presence of God in all things ! ... In 
 proportion as His influences are "withheld all things lan- 
 guish ; in proportion as they are again poured forth, all 
 things are revived, and germinate, and blossom into blessed- 
 ness. 
 
 ' We have just been praying that so " the earth may yield " 
 unto us her spiritual " increase " — that so the Lord may (on 
 this occasion) " cause righteousness and praise to spring forth " 
 — ^that " our Beloved may come into His garden, and eat His 
 pleasant fruits." ' 
 
 To a ministerial brother Mr. Eobertson wrote : — 
 
 'To-day I am like L., "tired and Aveary," and glad to 
 keep at home. By this time I hope you are safely landed 
 too among the endearments of your own fireside. Many 
 little faces will have met you at the door with all their 
 news. We often speak of yours as " the happy family." 
 " We thank our God on every remembrance of you, always 
 in every prayer of ours for you all, making request with 
 joy." . . . 
 
 * One of your remarks in your speech yesterday has led 
 me to a text to-day. The remark was about the occasion 
 
 given by such exhibitions as poor 's for scornful sarcasm, 
 
 and for the direct and serious impeachment of Christianity ; 
 and the text is that in 2 Peter, which speaks of "The 
 pernicious ways of those, by reason of whom the truth is 
 evil spoken of." If you are at any loss to fix on a topic, 
 may we try this together ? Under the ennui of this week 
 I need all the stimulus of sympathy, and may not the theme 
 be a " word in season " 1 The case is exciting many such 
 
106 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 infidel sneers as you referred to. "Would it not be interest- 
 ing to show what compliments to the truth, and to its usual 
 effects, these all imply 1 
 
 ' But perhaps I may be wrong in adventuring on such 
 delicate ground, and may see it best to abandon it, lest the 
 intention be misunderstood.' 
 
 It hurt him to the core, and was as if his dearest 
 frieud had been maliciously maligned, when anything 
 was said or done inconsistent with the spirit of 
 Christianity, or tending to misrepresent it to the 
 world. 
 
 His adopted circle of friendship had good occasion, 
 in the spring and summer of 1847, to prove and know 
 the truth of his ' brotherhood in adversity.' A suc- 
 cession of trying bereavements drew out his sympathy 
 and love ' not in word only, but in deed,' and 
 strengthened ties that had already become strong. 
 
 Writing to Mr. M'Dowall, he says : — 
 
 ' My beloved Brother, — My heart would have impelled me 
 to begin to Avrite the instant I received yours, had I not 
 been under the necessity of going out on duty and into the 
 country. Now, when I am back to my desk, I could pour 
 out to you two hearts full of sympathizing affection. You 
 have a " fight of afflictions," but you " shall not be greatly 
 moved." He who " took Israel from the furnace " will 
 keep you, and be your " Saviour in the time of trouble." 
 It is when we feel the "land" very "weary," that broadest, 
 deepest, coolest becomes "the shadow of tlie Great Rock," 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. 107 
 
 It is sadly disappointing to us to miss what we had so 
 fondly counted on — your beloved M.'s presence Avith us at 
 the time we spoke of. But the claims of her health are 
 paramount, and everything must yield to the means that 
 seem necessary to its renovation. ... I have often been 
 in the hands of Dr. J., and have great confidence in his 
 skill, of which I am in some sense the monument, under 
 the guidance and blessing of the Infallible Physician. We 
 shall not cease to plead that efficacy may be put into the 
 means used for our dear sister's recovery to sweet established 
 strength.' 
 
 Of a mutual friend, he adds : — 
 
 * Her mourning and conflicting experiences have given 
 place to a peace that seems to flow through her heart like a 
 river. She appears to have been led by the Spirit into much 
 of the largeness of the love of God. She used to "weary 
 herself in the greatness of her way," trying to make herself 
 such a creature as God could love. Now her soul has found 
 its centre of rest, disburdening conscience of its load in the 
 presence of the cross, and leaning her head on that bosom 
 out of which the Son came as the Father's gift to man. 
 How this "rainbows the darkest cloud of sorroAV." . . . 
 
 ' I am in the ^9?rss in more senses than one, correcting 
 proofs' and preparing for Sabbath — far, far behind. Will 
 this be any comfort to you in your work to-morrow to know 
 that you have in all respects possible the intense fellow- 
 feeling of your very loving brother, J. E.' 
 
 Again — ' We will write as often as posts will let us, and 
 we are always getting at each other through God,' 
 
108 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Again — ' I have been defrauded by a visitor this afternoon 
 of the time I meant to devote to you, but have left him 
 for a Httle. ... I will be more comforted by sending you 
 a line or two than I could by being silent till another post. 
 You do need " strong consolation." And you have it. The 
 Heavenly Eefiner is evidently watching with tenderness 
 and faithfulness the process through which the precious 
 metal is passing. He is making her more and more a choice 
 one in the furnace of affliction. We weep with you and 
 rejoice with you by turns. Never does heaven appear so 
 bright as when contrasted with those sorrows of earth. 
 How very cheering the anticipation of it ! Our ship is safe. 
 The Pilot is on board. "We are sure of reaching the quiet, 
 happy haven. Oh, the wondrous beauty, the glorious 
 sufficiency, the matchless suitableness of Jesus to our need ! 
 " In the day when I cried Thou answeredst me, and 
 strengthenedst me with strength in my soul." . . . 
 
 ' Every gleam of sunshine, and every genial breath of 
 summer, has a new charm to us just now, for we say to each 
 other, many times a day, "This will bring back health to 
 our beloved M." Our hearts are never away from you. 
 God will be with you always, " tJie Comforter." Peace be 
 with you in Christ Jesus. . . .' 
 
 To the sufferer herself he wrote : — ' Dearly beloved 
 Sister, — Be of good cheer. The eternal God is thy 
 refuge, and underneath are the Everlasting Arms. We 
 want to join with you in singing "songs in the night." 
 And is not this the chorus of them all, " God is love " ? 
 I think it was you that first told me the story of the 
 little girl who said, " That is my text, ' God is love.' "... 
 We do not wonder that " the joy of the Lord is your 
 
MINISTEY IN MUSSELBURGH. 109 
 
 strength," when you are looking to such joy-giving objects, 
 and believing such joy-giving news. They produce joy of 
 heart as necessarily as the finding of a treasure or the gain- 
 ing of a victory, and your joy no man taketh from you. 
 Drinking in our Heavenly Father's love, as reflected from 
 the face of our Elder Brother, we are changed into the same 
 image, from one glorious and glorifying degree of love to 
 another. "Keeping ourselves in the love of God," we shall 
 always have our own desire, inasmuch as we shall always 
 have His will, which is ours. Submitting our will to His 
 is only preferring a greater good to a less, as Jesus did in 
 the garden. . . . 
 
 ' We wish we could bear your burdens for you, but the 
 impossibility of this makes us rejoice the more that He, who 
 fainteth not as we would do, will, and does, carry both you 
 and them. He has fully overcome, and by the victory of 
 the Head, the living members must all be conquerors too. 
 . . . You live in our hearts all the day long. . . .' 
 
 ' By your languishing and pains you are brought into 
 closest communion and co-heirship with Him who " endured 
 the cross." His human exaltation is ascribed to that endur- 
 ance as its caiise. (Phil. ii. ; Heb. ii. 9, 10, 11.) Surely 
 then, by the various forms of bodily suffering, as Avell as 
 by any mode of faithfuhiess in active duties, we may be 
 " conformed to the image of God's clear Son." "Wlien we 
 look at a believer's afflictions in this light, when we think 
 of their perfecting tendency, their close resemblance in 
 character and purpose to the trials which the Saviour bore, 
 it serves at least to abate our wonder, and disposes the 
 mind to waiting adoration. " "Wait on the Lord, be of good 
 courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart." 
 
110 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 'Dr. Payson found it so, when he said in the midst of 
 racking pain, " What a blessed thing it is to lose one's will ! 
 Since I have lost my will I have found happiness. There 
 can be no such thing as disappointment to me, for I have 
 no desires but that God's will be done." 
 
 ' I can never read the life of Payson without recollecting 
 the sentiment of the holy Leigh ton, that " God has many 
 sharp-cutting instruments and rough files for the polishing of 
 His jewels, and those He especially esteems, and means 
 to make the most resplendent, He has oftenest His tools 
 upon." . . . 
 
 ' We alternately speak of and pray for you, dear brother 
 and sister.' . . . 
 
 Again — 'Do not these lines express your experience : — 
 
 ' " Lord my God, do Thou Thy holy will— 
 I will lie still ; 
 1 will not stir, lest I forsake Thine arm, 
 
 And break the charm, 
 Which lulls me, clinging to my Father's breast, 
 In perfect rest." 
 
 'I thought much of you yesterday, while preaching on 
 "//ie right toay." Your Leader, dear sister, has not mis- 
 taken the way that you take. What here we call days of 
 darkness will appear, by and bye, to have been among the 
 brightest and fairest. All that seems good in God's sight 
 must be really good, for He cannot be deceived. His 
 chastising love is the deepest love of all. Have you not 
 now found resources of strength and grace in Him which 
 you never knew before 1 . . .' 
 
 * The end He promises is holy good. The means of its 
 
MINISTRY IN MUSSELBURGH. Ill 
 
 production He Himself decides. It may be that the trials 
 Ave are under are a fulfilment of the prayers Ave have often 
 offered together. Ai-e Ave crucified to the Avorld 1 Are A\'e 
 Aveaned from the creature ? Were not these our petitions ? 
 But Ave anticipated not the mode. 
 
 *It needs more prayers noAV for grace to fix us in this 
 resolve, Avhen Ave perceive the Avay in Avhich it is to be 
 accomplished. 
 
 ' Let us desire holiness more than we fear the discipline 
 necessary for its attainment. Let us leave to Him, Avho 
 " sits as a Eefiner," the degree to Avhich the furnace should 
 be heated, in order to purify and brighten us, that Ave may 
 reflect the glories of His image.' 
 
 These are a few extracts from many letters written 
 at this time to the sorrowing circle. Besides every 
 kind service he could think of, rendered otherwise, not 
 a few cheering visits were paid to his dying friend — 
 visits that brought a wondering feeling of sunshine, 
 even to the childhood of the house, in the sick-room, 
 as well as cheer to the mother, who, under his tender 
 and appropriate ministrations, was made to ' drink ' 
 largely ' of the river of God's pleasures.' 
 
 Writing after the departure of this friend (closely 
 followed by that of two others in near relationship), 
 Mr. Eobertson says, in near prospect of preaching 
 there : ' The partition between the pulpit and eternity 
 looks thinner here than ordinarv.' 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 ^liinbxtrtjl) — Buncan S»trect. 
 
 1847-1862. 
 
 The Musselburgh ministry was now drawing towards 
 its close. In 1847, a Baptist chapel, in Duncan 
 Street, Newington, Edinburgh, was advertised for sale, 
 and as the field around seemed a desirable one in 
 which to carry on Christian work, three United 
 Presbyterians, after anxious consultation with mem- 
 l)ers of the Edinburgh Presbytery and others, resolved 
 to secure the building for a new cause, in connection 
 with their denomination. 
 
 These three had the warm sympathy of the Eevs. 
 Dr. John Brown of Broughton Place, Dr. Eobertson 
 of Portsburgh, and others ; and it is specially worthy 
 of mention that Dr. Eobertson, with characteristic 
 Christian spirit, suggested to those of his flock who 
 lived in Newington to cast in their lot with them, and 
 thus help on the cause of peaceful church extension. 
 Some of his most valued and useful members took his 
 advice. 
 
 Wlien the proprietors of the Baptist chapel knew 
 
 112 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 113 
 
 of the proposal, they generously handed over the 
 building to their brethren, at £300 less than the 
 price originally sought, on the understanding that their 
 successors would take up the schools and the mission 
 district of Causewayside, in which they had laboured 
 for many years. ' There was ample field of usefulness 
 for an enterprising missionary church.' 
 
 A small nucleus gathered in this chapel (seated for 
 624) as a preaching-station, on 9th January 1848, 
 and was afterwards constituted into a congregation, 
 by the Presbytery of Edinburgh, in February. The 
 members of Presbytery conducted the Sabbath ser- 
 vices in turn. Of these, Mr. Eobertson was one, 
 and, after hearing him, the congregation addressed a 
 hearty and unanimous call to him, in June 1848, to 
 become their pastor. 
 
 They 'had nothing to offer Mr. Eobertson,' they 
 said, ' in addition to abundance of hard and harassing 
 labour, but hearty co-operation in prosecuting the great 
 work which they knew he had at heart.' They ' re- 
 frained from holding out to him any inducement that 
 savoured of the nature of a pecuniary bribe,' know- 
 ing by how much higher motives he was actuated, 
 and ' fearing that any such would just have gone to 
 ruin their fondest expectations.' 
 
 It was urged by the Musselburgh people, that, out 
 of the mere remnant of a congregation, the founda- 
 tion of a truly prosperous church had been laid ; but 
 that there was every risk of the progress of this spiritual 
 
 II 
 
114 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 building being arrested, and of ruin and decay super- 
 vening, if the builder was withdrawn. 
 
 Through the labours of the last seven years, it had 
 risen in strength and usefulness to ' a model of a good 
 working congregation.' Under the influence of the 
 gospel, set forth from Sabbath to Sabbath, fresh and 
 full of fragrance, and falling like dew from heaven on 
 believing souls, 'there had arisen a well-cared-for 
 Sabbath school,' with teachers of high-toned piety, who 
 now made a special appeal to him. There were also 
 advanced classes of young men and women, gathered 
 not only from the congregation but beyond its pale, 
 and anxiously thirsting for religious instruction ; 
 weekly prayer-meetings ; a maternal society ; church 
 meetings from time to time, at which the members 
 acknowledged one another as professing brethren and 
 sisters in the Lord, and sought each other's welfare ; 
 a missionary society, with its collectors ; a Christian 
 instruction society, with its agents labouring in the 
 villages around, and scattering the words of eternal 
 life. 
 
 The pressure put upon him to remain was indeed 
 very strong ; and he was so much perplexed as to his 
 duty in the matter, that in the end he left the decision 
 in the hands of his brethren. 
 
 To the Presbytery he said : — 
 
 ' With the Commissioners from both places I most 
 thoroughly accord in the principle, that we, who are 
 ministers of Christ, are at liberty to say to oxir people, " We 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 115 
 
 are not yours, neither are we our own ; " nay, that we are 
 bound to consider well how and where we may best promote 
 His interest who died for ours. . . . 
 
 ' The fear of doing wrong is sometimes an impediment in 
 the way of doing right. The mind becomes fevered with 
 anxiety. It is then that one, judging in his own cause, is 
 in danger of laying too much stress on what are called the 
 "openings," or "leadings," which Providence is supposed to 
 exhibit by outward signs and peculiar events. . . . The 
 very same things vary in their hue and complexion according 
 to the bias with which they are regarded. . . . 
 
 ' As regards the majus] bonum ecdesice, I must allude to 
 one or two things on which I would far rather restrain my- 
 self, and seal them up in silence, were it not that they 
 furnish important elements of judgment. 
 
 ' The Presbytery have already been reminded of (it would 
 not be easy for some of them soon to forget) the hapless 
 singularity of their own crippled and bleeding cause in 
 Musselburgh, at the time when you sent me there, as your 
 willing servant for Jesus' sake. The little remnant of people 
 had a great fight of afflictions. . . . But God be praised 
 that their night of weeping was followed by the morning 
 joy. . . . The hand of the Lord hath done it. . . . 
 
 ' It was the hope of seeing this, which cheered whatever 
 of sore trial, and hazard to Hfe itself, the experiment 
 imposed. The call that places me here to-day seems, in 
 many respects, a call to go through the same trying experi- 
 ment again. Not that there is at iN'ewington any broken and 
 desolated wall to be built in troublous times, with a trowel 
 in the one hand and a sword in the other. But certain it 
 is, that the present nucleus of membership at Newingtou 
 
116 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 is very much the same as I found at Musselburgh, so that, 
 it is just after beginning to enjoy the recompense " where- 
 with the Christian mower filleth his hand, and he that 
 bindeth sheaves his bosom," that I am invited to tread anew 
 what may seem the empty furrow. . . . 
 
 ' On all such peaceful Church extension, prosecuted under 
 auspices so animating, may the broadest benedictions of 
 the Church's Head descend ! Its failure would be very 
 calamitous ; its prosperity will be very joyous. . . . "When 
 I remember that a minister's anxiety ought to be to exert 
 himself where exertion is most needed, without allowing 
 his own little convenience more than a feather's weight in 
 the balance — you need not wonder that I should have 
 some doubts whether the problematic, and remoter good, of 
 going to Newington, may not find a counterpoise in the 
 more immediate evils connected with a vacancy in Bridge 
 Street. . . . 
 
 * May I beg your indulgence while I allude to the other 
 difficulty, which is of a personal character. It respects 
 health, which to a minister is almost equivalent to life, 
 . . . and which may not warrant any confident expectation 
 of its being quite a match for such another lengthened 
 course of extra toil and care. . . . 
 
 ' Divesting myself, as far as I can, of all reserve or bias, 
 I put the case into your hands, earnestly requesting you to 
 strike the balance, and to dispose of me, and of any service 
 I can render, to what seems to you the best advantage, in 
 the best of causes. I am afraid of being wedded to any 
 methods or means of my own. I am afraid of having my 
 judgment unduly swayed by feeling. ... I have only this 
 " Urim " to consult, and Avhatever the answer be, I think I 
 
EDINBURGH— DUNCAN STREET. 117 
 
 shall have little need to doubt that " the whole disposing 
 thereof is of the Lord." Is not "the sound of your 
 Master's feet behind you " ? and the responding voice, 
 " Eehold I will lead the blind by a way that they know 
 not." " This is the way, walk ye in it." . . .' 
 
 The members of Presbytery deferred their decision 
 till a later meeting, at which they gave their judgment 
 in favour of the new charge. The prospect of the 
 change, with the severing of the old ties, and doubts 
 as to his having strength for the duties before him, 
 brought much anxiety. The induction took place on 
 Wednesday, 11th October 1848. 
 
 '21st November. 
 
 ' When I tell you that I am so overburdened with 
 work as to have little more than four hours' sleep at night, 
 and scarcely time for meals during the day, you will not 
 think it strange that I was so long in writing. This is the 
 heaviest labour I ever had in hand, but we are not without 
 cheering encouragement. . . . 
 
 ' I send you a specimen of the children's recollections of 
 your sermon on Solomon. They are first attempts ; for 
 everything has to be begun here. Already we have a 
 Sabbath school of more than 100 children, with 15 teachers 
 and superintendent ; an advanced female class also of 
 32, and a young men's class in process of being formed 
 this week. " The number of the names " (in church mem- 
 bership) is about 120. To the 42 with whom we started, 
 68 were added at last communion, and some have been 
 gathered since that time. 
 
118 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' A Christian Instruction Scheme, to be wrought by the 
 ladies, on a somewhat new principle, has likewise been 
 arranged. The church attendance has been steady in the 
 forenoons, and increasing in the afternoons — nearly filling 
 the house. But my strength is very inadequate to the 
 incessant demands made on it, and I have often reason to 
 fear it will sink under them entirely. In what work, how- 
 ever, can we be more blissfully " spent " ? ' 
 
 ' 20th December 1848. 
 
 ' . . . Dear A.'s letter gave us much delight, with all its 
 news and its merry notes. ... I am surrounded with mercy, 
 and not a day passes over me but I say, " Who should be 
 thankful if I am not ? " my brother, help me to put on, 
 and to wear that seemly attire, " the garment of praise." 
 
 ' My work continues very heavy, but I have more strength 
 for it than I had at first, and the Lord manifestly smiles 
 on it. 
 
 ' Since the cause became self-supporting, we have entered 
 on missionary work, and are this week on the point of 
 engaging a home mission agent. About £30 per annum 
 is already guaranteed, by a few members, for this primary 
 object. There have gathered around us some of the most 
 active and devoted Christians with whom I have ever 
 met. ... I have few minutes all day that I can call my 
 own. . . .' 
 
 '27th Jan. 1849. 
 
 ' "We may smell the flowers of earth as Ave pass, but let 
 us not tarry. " Behold the Bridegroom cometh." . .' 
 
 It took no little courage, with an infant cause just 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 119 
 
 formed there, to set all the desirable machinery of a 
 working church in lively motion. But this was to be 
 no hive of drones. 
 
 The ordinary schemes immediately started, included 
 a vigorous Sabbath school (out of which, owing to 
 ignorance discovered there, grew week-evening classes, 
 and soon a week - day school), the minister's ad- 
 vanced classes for young men ^ and women (held at 
 separate times), a maternal meeting, a weekly prayer- 
 meeting, adult and juvenile missionary associations. 
 There was also a special church meeting, on the first 
 Sabbath of each month, for members alone, to bind 
 them more closely in the bonds of Christian affection, 
 and to give opportunity for the unreserved expression 
 of thought and feeling on topics bearing on Christian 
 life and work. At this meeting the new members 
 were introduced, previous to each communion. A fresh 
 element was early brought into it, by the gathering 
 there ' of the baptized children of the church, that 
 they might be reminded of the meaning of their 
 baptism, of the nature of the obligations they were 
 expected personally to renew, and that they might be 
 commended to God in solemn prayer.' 
 
 In the quarterly sermons preached to the children 
 their wants were still further remembered. 
 
 ' The young men's class came, during its second or tliird year, 
 under the care of Mr. Benjamin H. Blyth, and afterwards under 
 that of Mr. James Young, till his death, both elders, and highly- 
 prized co-workers with their pastor, strengthening his hands in every 
 way possible to them. 
 
120 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 By the 14th of January 1849 (about three months 
 after Mr. Eobertson's induction), the home missionary 
 referred to, who was selected from among the members 
 themselves, had begun his labours in the Causewayside. 
 To further his work, the mission district was divided 
 into eighteen sections (allowing twelve or iifteen 
 families to a section), and visited by both ladies and 
 gentlemen of the congregation, as ' Christian instruction 
 agents.' 
 
 Thus a large number of the members was brought 
 into direct contact with the people of the district, the 
 children there were cared for, and wholesome literature 
 of various kinds was distributed. 
 
 Of this work in its early days, Mr. Eobertson 
 says : — 
 
 'They will find it have a powerful influence on their 
 personal sanctification. Their own knowledge of the gospel 
 wiU be corrected and enlarged by repeated demands for its 
 exercise, and their own impressions of its preciousness wiU 
 become sensibly deepened by every attempt to convey it to 
 the hearts of others. 
 
 'Where twenty-four church members consecrate to such 
 exertion a single hour in the week, it is well-nigh equal to 
 the addition of a new agent to the ranks of our valuable 
 home missionaries. . . . We regard this scheme as only the 
 revival of the great Christian principle, that aU who know 
 Christ should make Him known. It is only leading us back 
 to the apostolic plan of " teaching from house to house." It 
 is as old as Christianity. It is a part of Christianity. It 
 is Christ's own ordinance, as truly as the preaching of the 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 121 
 
 gospel in the sanctuary. Never will the labours of the most 
 devoted city missionaries prove sufficient, by themselves, to 
 bear in successfully or permanently on the fermenting mass 
 of depravity around us. The divinely - appointed instru- 
 mentality, by which it is to be penetrated with the healing 
 influence of the gospel, is the combined agency of all the 
 members of Christ's Church, actmg harmoniously, and acting 
 on system. How rich is the Church in undeveloped power ! 
 Were that power only brought out from the napkins in which 
 it is shrouded, and from under the bushels where it is hid, 
 and placed in Christ's hand, and at Christ's disposal, how 
 soon might all our streets, and alleys, and obscurest recesses 
 be pervaded with the light of the knowledge of God's glory ! 
 how soon might " the city be flourishing," and filled with 
 " the beauties of holiness" ! ' 
 
 Within four years the Christian instruction visitors 
 extended their labours to several outlying hamlets, in 
 which, ultimately, a second missionary, with all the 
 usual organizations of a mission, was established. 
 
 Experience of the wants of the mission district at 
 an early stage, and of the great barrier to the prose- 
 cution of the work there in the drinking habits of the 
 people, resulted in the formation of a Total Abstinence 
 Society, which was joined at once by a goodly number 
 of those for whom it was intended ; and efforts were 
 also made to interest the young in the same, by 
 weekly meetings in the school-room. This continued, 
 throughout, a prominent feature in the home mission 
 work. 
 
 In the course of a few years, ' the improvement 
 
122 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 which had taken place among the population of the 
 district, and the benefits conferred by the mission, 
 were manifest to the merest observer. This was 
 acknowledged by the people themselves, as well as by 
 many residents in the neighbourhood, who, at various 
 times, volunteered tlieir grateful testimony. The 
 swarm of unwashed, untrained youngsters, that used 
 to infest the district, and annoy the neighbourhood, 
 had disappeared.' 
 
 Altogether, the number of the young connected 
 with the church and mission districts, under religious 
 instruction, was not less than five hundred; whilst 
 those on the roll of the day-school — now under four 
 teachers — numbered 374, 
 
 It was ascertained, by the visits of the missionaries, 
 at this period, that there were no children, capable of 
 attending, who were not at school, provision being 
 made, by individual private benevolence, for paying 
 the fees of those whose parents or guardians were 
 unable to do so. 
 
 This continued to be a school for a full secular 
 education, in all its branches, combined with religious 
 instruction ; the congregation, true to its principles, 
 refusing all Government grants, and supporting it by 
 its own contributions. After the passing of the Edu- 
 cation Act, this school was handed over in 1872 to the 
 School Board. The people of the church were soon 
 able to rid themselves of the burden of debt, and to 
 build besides school and mission premises, at a cost of 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 123 
 
 £600. At this time ( 1 8 5 6 ) Mr. Eobertson writes : ' We 
 had one of our social meetings among ourselves, when 
 it was reported that there had been raised, during the 
 past twelvemonth, considerably more than £1200. 
 The debt on church and school property, which stood 
 over at £1800, is now brought to a perpetual 
 end. And in April next we hope to celebrate our 
 emancipation.' 
 
 These ' social meetings among ourselves ' were, like 
 everything else, meant to be special means of grace, 
 when the conventionalities that belong to the world were 
 laid aside, and the members met on a common footing, 
 with the understanding : ' One is your Master, even 
 Christ, and all ye are brethren.' One moving spirit 
 was among them, bringing those together that might 
 value or help each other, and making all easy, and 
 genial, and kindly — drawing out the special talents 
 of some for the benefit of all, and never failing to 
 give the cast of his own lofty and sacred aims to the 
 whole. 
 
 Many recall, with much warmth, the heart and 
 homeliness of those days in the old but 'amiable 
 tabernacle,' with a flock growing in numbers year by 
 year, and in loving harmony with one another, in all 
 congregational and Christian work. Nothing could 
 be more like what we may suppose the circle of the 
 early Church to have been. It seemed natural for them 
 to adopt, for some of their number, such names as 
 ' Paul,' and ' Barnabas,' and ' Phebe our sister.' 
 
124 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Thus he strikes the keynote for a Christian social 
 meeting in his student days : — 
 
 ' Can we suppress the thrill of affectionate interest in each 
 other, even were we to try the experiment ? Can any heart 
 here, hy any effort, go into cold and jealous calculation of 
 comparative rank or standing with any one Avho sits heside 
 you, or who addresses you 1 Perish the thought ! All 
 such considerations are swallowed up, sunk, lost in the deep 
 and delightful consciousness that we are associated with 
 the friends of Jesus — loved hy our Common Father, sancti- 
 fied by our Common Comforter, heirs of the Common 
 Salvation. It will he so if, through mercy, we reach 
 heaven. Why should it for a moment he otherwise on 
 earth 1 In order that o\ir meeting may image the harmony 
 and happiness of heaven, one thing is indispensably necessary, 
 that, as on a memorable occasion in Cana of Galilee, Jesus 
 shall be invited to the feast to honour it by His presence 
 and hallow it by His blessing,' etc. etc. 
 
 The same keynote was sounded in these congrega- 
 tional gatherings, held with the view of keeping up 
 mutual acquaintance and fellowship, and giving them 
 further impetus for everyday life. 
 
 It was no empty, formal invitation that Jesus re- 
 ceived to the feast, as if there were little concern 
 whether He came or not ; but such a one as would 
 have made pastor and people disappointed if He was 
 not with them, ' to honour it by His presence, and 
 hallow it by His blessing.' It is unnecessary to add 
 that the character of the entertainment provided was 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 125 
 
 in harmony with the Divine fellowship desired and 
 expected. 
 
 To an absent member of the congregation, he writes : 
 
 ' 24th February 1862. 
 ' How much I wish you had been with us to enjoy our 
 dehghtful social meeting of the teachers last night. It was 
 a time of great enjoyment — quite like an " ordinance ; " and 
 we parted saying, " The Lord has been with us of a truth," 
 But I am glad you are off for change, and I fondly trust 
 you will return with many materials for a "new song." 
 Jesus is the " Saviour of the body," and we must take good 
 care of His property. May He keep you as the apple of 
 His eye. How intensely tender is that image ! Bodily 
 infirmity cannot touch your life — your t7'ue life — the life 
 hid with Christ in God. "With what confidence, and with 
 what assured expectation, you may put yourself wholly into 
 the hands of the Infallible Physician. The more simple 
 and full our faith in His finished work, the more rapid and 
 sure will be our spiritual healing.' 
 
 The Eev. John Young, afterwards colleague and 
 son-in-law to Mr. Eobertson (who, previous to his 
 ordination, had been connected with the congregation 
 for many years, and had rendered much valued help 
 in many departments of its work), says : — 
 
 'As early as 1859 or 1860, there were originated two 
 Sabbath forenoon children's services (for the mission dis- 
 tricts) — long before Foundry Boys' Societies or so-caUed 
 children's churches came into fashion. They still flourish ; 
 and never has there been any friction between them and 
 
126 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 the cliurch, as care has always been taken that they neither 
 lessened the attendance in " the family pew," nor drained 
 away from the church services more than two or three adults 
 to take charge.' 
 
 Whether or not a statement as satisfactory can 
 be always made in regard to children's churches, 
 may be doubted. Mr. Eobertson, in later years, fully 
 appreciated the difficulties arising in connection with 
 them, and became suspicious as to what the outcome 
 might be in the future, in fostering a desultory church 
 attendance. On a Sabbath forenoon's visit to a service 
 of this kind in another city, when hundreds of adults 
 were crowding to the gallery, the question was put 
 to him, 'Why are there so many grown-up people 
 here ? I thought it was for children ; ' and he replied, 
 ' Ah, that's the sore bit of these children's services ! 
 When they become men and women they just continue 
 coming here.' 
 
 From the foregoing it will be seen, to use Mr. 
 Young's words — 
 
 ' How thoroughly the character impressed upon the church 
 from the beginning, under Mr. Kobertson's ministry, was 
 that of a home mission one. It was territorial in the best 
 sense of the term. It lived and laboured, from its infancy, 
 for the Causewayside, and it blended into a membership 
 truly one in spirit, the suburban and mission classes in its 
 neighbourhood. The aim in Newington has always been to 
 have a thorough mixture of classes; and all arrangements 
 as to seat-holding, social gatherings, etc., have been made 
 
EDINBURGH — ^DUNCAN STREET. 127 
 
 subservient to giving to the poorest a home-feeling in its 
 membership. There has been no undue haste to draft into 
 the communion of the church those impressed at our mission 
 meetings, or residing in the mission district ; but many of 
 our best members have been won through the mission, and 
 the percentage of disappointments has been very small.' 
 
 The following is from the pen of an eminent 
 Glasgow physician, Dr. Yellowlees, who was at this 
 time a student at Edinburgh University, and attended 
 Mr. Eobertson's ministry : — 
 
 ' You ask me for reminiscences of Mr. Kobertson and 
 " Duncan Street " in my student days. It is like asking for 
 some old song, of which you can recall only fragments, 
 though its cadence and pathos are unforgotten. It is like 
 asking an analysis of some familiar friend, whom you felt to 
 be so good and true, that you never thought of cataloguing 
 his virtues. 
 
 ' " DuncMi Street " was — just Duncan Street. You had to 
 feel it, before you could understand it. And Duncan Street 
 was just what James Kobertson made it. Never did con- 
 gregation more truly reflect its pastor, for never did pastor 
 more truly put himself into his work. 
 
 ' In him the life and work of the congregation centred, and 
 from him they took their tone. No wonder, then, that the 
 spirit of the church was Christian fellowship in Christian 
 work, and that brotherly love abounded. There were no 
 strangers in Duncan Street ; for if strangers came they 
 instantly became friends, attracted and magnetized by the 
 pervading spirit. To " belong to Duncan Street " was a bond 
 of friendship of no common kind, and it implied to my- 
 
128 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 self, and to many another student, an amount of personal 
 interest and real kindness which can never be forgotten, and 
 which commended the gospel to us as nothing else could 
 have done. 
 
 ' This spirit of fellowship pervaded all the congregational 
 work. Each department of it interested all, and was 
 quickened and sustained by the common interest. The con- 
 gregational social meetings were liker a large family gather- 
 ing than anything else ; and our minister was never more in 
 his element than when there, promoting the Christian fellow- 
 ship in which he so rejoiced. In the intervals of the 
 business he would move quietly about the room, with a 
 smile or a word for every one near him. He remembered 
 names, faces, and personal circumstances with wonderful 
 accuracy, and made his people known to each other with 
 such happy tact and ease that each deemed it a favour. 
 
 ' Perhaps before you knew he was near you, you would 
 find his arm over your shoulder, with — " And when did you 
 hear from your mother ? I wish there were more like her." 
 If there's a better way of getting at the heart of a lonely 
 student than that, I don't know it. But such tact was his 
 special gift. He could put himself alongside others with 
 singular ease, and could so slide into their heart and feelings, 
 that they felt as if he had been there all the while. It was 
 this faculty that made his visits so welcome in sickness, and 
 so comforting in sorrow. 
 
 ' In the congregational Sabbath school he was the same, 
 alike with teachers and scholars. The lambs of the flock 
 were his peculiar care, and however long or fatiguing the 
 services in the church had been, he had always some tender 
 words for them in closing the school. 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STEEET. 129 
 
 ' If you met him in the street he was the same. He would 
 take your arm and walk along with you, ask ahout your 
 friends, and your studies, brighten you with some home 
 allusion, tell you some story leaving you to find its lesson, 
 and then probably say, " Man, I wish you woidd come over 
 to breakfast on Wednesday — eight o'clock, you know — and 
 you'll get away in time for your classes ; and I'll ask James 
 
 , and James , and Henry , and the rest ; and 
 
 there's a new student I want you to know. It aye does 
 my heart good to see you yoving men." Thus he went 
 about bringing sunshine. How much brighter life would 
 be if we all tried to do likewise ! 
 
 ' When we met at breakfast, he seemed as if it truly did 
 do his heart good, but the real gain was ours. The kind 
 inquiries and kinder home reminiscences about each of us, 
 the genial way in which he brought out the most reticent, 
 and the wise way in Avliich he could diflfer without wound- 
 ing, did us far more good than we knew ; while Mrs. 
 Robertson's motherly gentleness — never to be forgotten by 
 me — made it almost like a glimpse of home. 
 
 ' The quarterly sermon to the children was another feature 
 of Duncan Street, which no retrospect could omit. They 
 were great occasions. The children and their teachers sat 
 in the centre of the church, and every part of the build- 
 ing was croAvded. The text was always read by one of 
 the children — a proud, but trying distinction. In preach- 
 ing, Mr. Eobertson put questions to the children, and the 
 word of commendation elicited by a good reply was more 
 valued than the costliest prize. A verse or two of some 
 favourite hymn was always introduced during the sermon 
 — sometimes more than once, and sung by the children 
 
 I 
 
130 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 with great fervour. The sermons were simple, tender, 
 pointed, and memorable. His whole heart went out to the 
 little ones. His administration of baptism was, for the 
 like reason, very tender and impressive. 
 
 ' Perhaps Mr. Robertson's ministry was at its best in the 
 Duncan Street period. He felt sustained by a devoted and 
 earnest people, who had gathered around him, and he was 
 still unfretted by the cares and anxieties of a large con- 
 gregation. 
 
 ' In the pulpit you felt that he was at home, and strong in 
 his Master's strength. His prayers were always remarkable 
 — so lofty, direct, tender, and trustful. In private they were 
 often yet more striking, from his peculiar felicity in intro- 
 ducing personal circumstances or local allusions, and so 
 clothing common things with a new significance. His 
 preaching appealed more to the heart than to the head, 
 but its tender earnestness gave it wonderful power, and it 
 was full of Christ crucified. He liked to dwell on favourite 
 themes, and was prone to picture and amplify, but he could 
 also be terse and pointed. He used contrast, antithesis, and 
 alliteration largely, and often put the truth in a most 
 memorable way with their aid. Some of his sentences 
 come back to me still like echoes of other days. 
 
 ' But after all I have now written — and it is far more than 
 I had intended — I feel that my first words were right. You 
 cannot tell what Duncan Street was to those who were not 
 there. You could not understand it till you felt it, and 
 scarcely then ; — but " that we were in Dimcan Street " is 
 still the bond of some of my best friendships. To us the 
 church monopolized the whole street, and somehow the old 
 folk never took so kindly to the new church at Grange Road. 
 
EDINBURGH DUNCAN STREET. 131 
 
 It was not Duncan Street. I have never seen the same 
 spirit anywhere else, and I miss it sadly. When I see city 
 churches where the minister rarely enters his Sabbath school, 
 where he can scarcely know his members by sight, and 
 where the members scarcely know each other, I cannot 
 but fear that we are in danger of taking false standards 
 wherewith to measure the life of our congregations. Huge 
 membership, fine architecture, swelling organs, and big 
 collections would be very poor substitutes for the spirit of 
 Duncan Street.' 
 
 Eeference has been made in the foregoing recollec- 
 tions to the children's services as being ' great occa- 
 sions ' in Mr, Eobertson's church at home. They 
 were in no less degree ' great occasions ' away from 
 home, wherever it was announced that Mr. Eobertson 
 was to preach a children's sermon. It was a feature 
 in his ministry that began early, and continued in 
 growing intensity and interest on to its close. His 
 bright, joyous, sympathetic nature ever drew the 
 young irresistibly around him. 
 
 One of these services about this time comes vividly 
 to mind, though many years have passed away since. 
 It was on a Sabbath evening in the church in Stirling 
 in which he had himself sat when a boy. All the 
 Sabbath schools in the town and neighbourhood were 
 congregated together, and long before the hour of 
 meeting the spacious house was crowded in every 
 part, the passages and pulpit stairs and even the pulpit 
 itself being thronged with children, all in eager ex- 
 
132 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 pectation. It was a sight the preacher obviously loved 
 to see, as with beaming countenance he threaded his 
 way slowly from the vestry with a smile for each as 
 he passed, and a pat on the shoulder for some. 
 
 When he had announced where his text was to be 
 found, he asked if ' any child would be good enough 
 to read it.' It was before these modern days of 
 youthful development in that direction, and the large 
 audience held its breath for an instant or two, when a 
 responsive movement was observed behind the preacher. 
 Mr. Eobertson, turning round and taking a little boy 
 by the hand, said, ' Here is a little man who is kindly 
 going to read my text for me ; ' and in clear, distinct 
 tones, slowly and reverently the words were read : 
 ' And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, 
 in that day when I make up my jewels ' (Mai. iii. 17).^ 
 ' Thank you, my little boy,' said Mr. Eobertson when 
 he had finished. ' When you grow up to be a man, I 
 hope you will become a minister of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and read many such texts from all the pulpits 
 round.' The * little boy ' is now Professor Henry 
 Drummond, of the Free Church College, Glasgow, 
 whose name as that of an author and an evangelist 
 is so familiar to us all. 
 
 We subjoin an address delivered many years later 
 
 by Mr. Eobertson, at a Saturday children's gathering 
 
 in Glasgow, in connection with the ' Flower Mission,' 
 
 an institution which, with its sympathetic ministrations 
 
 ' This sermon is given at p. 307 of this vohune. 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 133 
 
 and sweet comfort, has been a power for good in our 
 large cities to many a weary and sorrowful soul. 
 
 J 1 b3 c r 5, 
 
 Guess where to find my text ? to find it in a field, 
 to find it among the rich green grass, from which 
 there comes up a fresh, delicious smell. 
 
 I stooped down, and found my text nestling there, 
 underneath some broad leaves, and hanging down its 
 head upon a slender stalk. It was a sweet spring 
 flower. I plucked it, and admired it, and put it in 
 there, in my button-hole. It gave me some thoughts, 
 that led me to remember you, and to remember a little 
 ditty I have often heard dear children singing — 
 
 ' Buttercups and daisies, oh the pretty flowers, 
 Coming in the spring-time, to tell of sunny hours.' 
 
 ' The Flower Mission ' — you have all heard of it. 
 Last Thursday evening I was talking with one of the 
 kind friends who visit in the Infirmary, and sing 
 gospel hymns to the poor sufferers there, and I was 
 happy to hear that the Flower Mission had begun 
 again, as in former years ; and this is one of the 
 ways in which you children may make yourselves 
 very useful, gathering flowers, and making them into 
 bouquets or posies to brighten up and cheer the dull 
 ward of the sick, like sweet smiles and shining stars 
 of heaven. 
 
 Flowers for Jesus ! Who will gather flowers for 
 
134 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 Jesus in spring and summer ? He who said to Mary, 
 when she broke the box and poured the ointment on 
 His head, ' She hath done what she could,' will rejoice 
 in everything that is done from love to Him. To 
 every such flower -gatherer He will say when He 
 comes in His glory, ' I was sick, and ye visited me : 
 Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of these, 
 ye did it unto me.' 
 
 So I was led to take as my topic to-day, what you 
 will read for me in Song of Solomon ii. verses 10-13 : 
 
 ' My beloved spake, and said unto me, Eise up, my 
 love, my fair one, and come away. 
 
 ' Eor, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and 
 gone; 
 
 ' The flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the 
 singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is 
 heard in our land ; 
 
 ' The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the 
 vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, 
 my love, my fair one, and come away.' 
 
 I have my eye particularly on these six words in 
 the beginning of verse 12:' The flowers appear on the 
 earth.' 
 
 I never knew a child who was not fond of flowers. 
 I cannot forget the unspeakable delight it was to 
 me, when quite a child, to watch the little green 
 points of the crocus breaking through the ground, 
 because they told me that spring flowers were going 
 to 'appear on the earth.' I trust God will let me 
 
EDINBURGH DUNCAN STREET. 135 
 
 love the flowers, and the singing of the birds, as long 
 as I live here. Oh that our hearts may continue 
 brimful of praise to Him, for the joy they bring us, 
 year by year, at the first burst of sj)ring ! 
 
 There was a great man once, who thought it so 
 good for everybody to see and love God's beautiful 
 gift of flowers, that he used to say to his friends, 
 ' If you have money enough to buy two loaves, you 
 may buy one loaf, but be sure to buy along with it 
 a bunch of flowers.' Another who is now with Jesus, 
 had, when on her dying-bed, a flower put into her 
 hand. She turned it round and round, looking 
 earnestly at it, and then said, 'It is God's flower, and 
 it is so God-like.' In that flower, she loved Him who 
 made it, even that Saviour dear, who, when sitting 
 on a mountain in the midst of flowers, stooped down 
 and picked up one, as He spoke to the people, and 
 held it in His hand, and said, ' Consider the lilies.' 
 You may read it in Matthew vi. 28. 'Consider the 
 lilies ' — the flowers of the field. Is not this the 
 time for considering them, when they are beginning 
 to bud and bloom on every side ? 
 
 What is it to consider them ? It is something 
 more than looking at them or smelling them, some- 
 thing more than making them into daisy chains, or 
 cowslip wreaths, and wearing them on your breast. 
 To ' consider ' them is to think much about them. It 
 is to think what the flowers would say if they had 
 tongues and could speak. 
 
136 JAMES KOBERTSON. 
 
 Well, what would they say ? 
 
 1 . The flowers would say : ' There is a God who 
 created us, and though there are ten thousand different 
 kinds of us, He has put us all in our right places. 
 Some of us grow on the hill-sides, and some of us 
 grow in the valleys ; some on the water's edge, and 
 some far away in the wilderness.' Surely God loves 
 flowers, for He first planted a garden in Eden, and 
 put in it every plant that was beautiful to look upon ; 
 and ' God saw that it was good.' 
 
 Go on, pretty flowers, go on teaching us ! 
 
 What ! Can a flower be a teacher to you and to 
 me ? Yes, a dumb teacher. It is as silent teachers 
 that flowers have been given us. God has not sent 
 flowers to feed us, or to make us rich. Though there 
 were not a flower in all the world, we would have food, 
 and raiment, and riches, all the same. 
 
 But all God's handiworks must be of some use, and 
 He has raised up these lovely httle teachers to speak to 
 us, from under their green leaves, lessons about Himself. 
 
 The fool hath said in his heart, ' There is no God.' 
 But nature says in her heart, and in every colour and 
 feature of her flushing face, ' There is a God — an only 
 wise God — and He is here ! ' 
 
 How wise God is ! and what a worker of wonders ! 
 Take a magnifying glass. Examine with it the most 
 delicate web that ever came out of the looms of Paisley 
 or Manchester, and the threads you would see looking 
 rude and rough, almost like cable ropes. 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 137 
 
 But pluck the leaf of a lily, and put it under your 
 microscope. What glorious tints are laid open to you ! 
 And if your glass were a thousand times stronger, the 
 beauties would be a thousand times more. 
 
 Yonder, on the table in one of your houses, isn't 
 there a bunch of artificial flowers, with a wax lily 
 among the rest ? How ingenious the lady who 
 fashioned it ! But take it near. Where is the life, 
 the growth, the freshness and fragrance of the living 
 flower ? Bees soon know the difference. 
 
 Look at them through your microscope. This 
 wax one is like coarse canvas. But in God's you 
 see all the minute pores through which it draws in 
 gas like breath. Along its tiny veins, its blood, the 
 sap is flowing. Its roots go hunting down into the 
 earth for meat and drink, and both are pumped up, 
 through the stem, to the milk-white cup — the smelling- 
 bottle at the top. ' Verily this is the finger of God.' 
 And when God is the artist, how perfect is the 
 painting of His flowers ! I recollect the exclamation 
 of a good friend, who held a lily in his right hand, 
 and a clod of black earth in his left. He said : 
 ' Wliat a God must our God be, who is always pro- 
 ducing the like of this out of the like of that ! ' And 
 I could tell you of a minister, who had many sore 
 trials to bear, and who was tempted, in the midst of 
 them, to doubt the Word of God. When in this 
 miserable state of mind, he was riding one after- 
 noon on horseback, along a thickly-shaded path, when 
 
138 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 from one of the trees overhead there came a little 
 leaf trembling down (you know how a leaf goes, this 
 way and that way, when it falls), and it alighted 
 right in front of him on the saddle. He took it up, 
 and turned it over, and, as the sun was shining 
 through the trees, and as he held it up to the sunlight, 
 he was struck with all its little veins, so much more 
 exquisite than the finest lace of man's making, and 
 he said to himself, ' Surely this leaf has come from 
 heaven at this moment to put my doubts to shame, 
 and to tell me I have a Father yet, who is too wise to 
 err.' So his fetters were broken, and ' he went on his 
 way rejoicing ' in God. Didn't he truly find tongues 
 in the tree from which the leaf had fallen ! 
 
 ' How manifold, Lord, are Thy works, 
 In wisdom Thou hast made them all.' 
 
 Say away, pretty flowers ! what else have you to 
 teach us ? 
 
 2. Listen ! they are saying, ' God is love, faithful 
 love. Great is His faithfulness.' 
 
 Yes, my children, the lengthening days are telling 
 it, the birds are singing it, the flowers are blooming 
 it ! It is breaking abroad this morning in all the 
 balmy air. 
 
 Did God's own hand raise that flower on its stem 
 with all its rich minglings of colour ? Then God 
 must love beauty. And may we not expect that God 
 will be tender Himself ? The dearest things we have 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 139 
 
 we can bring to Him, — our wonncled feelings, our 
 trembling hopes, our children when they are sick, or 
 when they are seeking salvation, and our own souls 
 when they are all sensibility and sorrow. Yes, all 
 these we may bring to Him Whose mercy is tender 
 mercy. Whose kindness is loving-kindness. 
 This is the use of flowers — 
 
 ' To comfort man, — to whisper hope 
 
 Whene'er his faith is dim, 
 For God who careth for the flowers 
 Will much more care for him.' 
 
 This was what Jesus was seeking to make the 
 disciples understand, when He said, ' Consider the 
 lilies.' 
 
 Eead, when you get home, the latter part of that 
 6 th chapter of Matthew, from the 25 th verse down- 
 wards, and you will find Him first pointing to the 
 sparrows, as they darted to and fro beneath the bright 
 blue sky. 
 
 Behold these fowls (says He), see how happy they 
 are ! Who keeps Eobin Eedbreast's cupboard ? Surely 
 the God who feeds His birds will never starve His 
 bairns ! 
 
 And it is the very same teaching He repeats. 
 
 Look at the lilies, — how they grow. Not by being 
 careworn ; no, their fair leaves are never fretted by 
 a single wrinkle of anxiety. Are they ever heard to 
 cry, * When will that hot sun set ? When will the 
 next shower come ? ' 
 
140 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Are you not much better than they — you, who 
 have souls that shall never fade away ? 
 
 And will your Father forget you, while He still 
 remembers them ? Mungo Park, the African traveller, 
 was at one time surrounded by savage beasts, and still 
 more savage men, who plundered him, and left him 
 almost half-dead, among barren rocks and burning 
 sands. ' In a cleft of a rock,' said he, ' I caught a 
 glimpse of a lovely little green tuft of moss, not bigger 
 than the tip of my finger. It looked to me like a 
 smile from God. I said, ' I must not think myself for- 
 gotten or forsaken. Poor and needy though I be, the 
 God of that tuft cares for me.' So his heart errew 
 brave again. His limbs gradually recovered strength, 
 and he went hopefully forward, till he found a place 
 of refreshing and repose. If the fresh verdure of that 
 little plant saved his life — as it probably did — surely 
 the blooming of all the flowers we see around us may 
 still save our faith, may still lift up the hands that 
 hang down, and confirm the feeble knees. And just 
 what the small bit of moss was to Mungo Park, Jesus 
 intends the lilies to be to us. The best lesson taught 
 by them is trust. ' Have faith in God,' ' only trust 
 Him.' 
 
 Go on, pretty flowers, go on talking and teaching us. 
 
 What other lessons would you have us learn ? 
 
 Hearken, what they are saying — 
 
 3. Children ought never to be proud — proud of 
 their dress. 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 141 
 
 I once heard of a girl who stayed at home from the 
 Sabbath school for weeks, because she had not got a 
 small piece of finery, like some of her companions, 
 and she was too j)roud to show herself at school 
 without. Ah ! such girls must be sent to the lily's 
 school again. Has not Jesus already sent them there, 
 when He said, ' Even Solomon in all his glory was 
 not arrayed like one of these ' ? 
 
 ' There's not a yellow buttercup, returning with the spring. 
 But it can show a golden crown, as bright as any king. 
 The red rose and the lily give that charm of summer day. 
 There's not a lady in the land so finely dressed as they.' 
 
 Any more to say, pretty flowers ? Any more ? 
 
 4. Yes, one word more, as you find it in Isa. xl. 6 : 
 
 ' All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof as 
 the flower of the field.' 
 
 Yes, all the dear children here may be likened 
 to spring flowers. For what ? For freshness and 
 beauty. 
 
 I do delight in the early bloom of the round face of 
 a little child. But just as when you take a flower 
 and pull it to pieces, it is so pretty inside, so the soul 
 that is within you, when sheltered by Christ's side, and 
 beautified with Christ's salvation, is very beautiful, 
 very beautiful indeed. 
 
 An excellent Christian lady, well known by the 
 name of Charlotte Elizabeth, took great pains for 
 the salvation of a poor deaf and dumb Irish boy, 
 called John Brett, and she was accustomed to give 
 
142 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 him the famihar flower name, ' My Shamrock.' 
 Since he could only make signs, he used to say that 
 God looked at his prayer. Once when asked how 
 he felt, he answered by signs, ' Jack prayed — God 
 looked at Jack's prayer. Jack knows that Jesus loves 
 poor Jack. Jack very, very much love Jesus. Jack 
 very much hate Devil. Go away, Devil, go away.' 
 
 [Another story connected with this boy would be 
 told here, but the manuscript does not give it in full 
 — only the words : ' Bad . . drop of blood . . Black 
 page . . made all white . . nothing . . going away to 
 see the Dear Eed Hand.'] 
 
 Converted children may be likened to flowers for 
 usefulness as well as for beauty. 
 
 Flowers are very useful. They brighten up the 
 faces of those who look at them in the wards of a 
 hospital. They comfort many a lonely sick room. 
 
 It is told of a Frenchman, who was a State prisoner 
 for many months and years, that his great delight was 
 a small flower that grew in the little yard belonging 
 to his cell. It had sprung up between two flagstones, 
 and when it began to droop for want of more room, 
 he sent a petition to the Emperor to allow the two 
 flagstones to be lifted up. Wlien the Emperor gave 
 leave for this his gratitude was unbounded, because it 
 gave him the companionship of his favourite flower. 
 
 I give it on the authority of that admirable 
 Christian lady. Miss Marsh, that she sent to a thought- 
 less, bad man, when he was ill, a lovely crimson 
 
EDINBURGH DUNCAN STREET. 143 
 
 azalea, and he used to say that he loved that flower 
 more than any other that ever grew, because it brought 
 to his memory and kept before his mind that verse, 
 which she had repeated to him, and which was the 
 means of bringing him to the Saviour, ' Though 
 your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as 
 snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall 
 be as wool' 
 
 Charlotte Elizabeth had sweet thoughts about the 
 flowers m her garden, such as no one else had. With 
 many of the flowers, she joined recollections of her 
 beloved friends ; and I would like to recommend it to 
 you, my young friends, as a very pleasant exercise, 
 to put down a list of the names of the children of the 
 Bible, and call them after different flowers, according 
 to your own judgment of what suits them best. 
 
 For instance, there is little Samuel, who early 
 served the Lord. Might you not put over against his 
 name the Snowdrop ? because the snowdrop is such 
 an early spring flower, and so very beautiful. 
 
 There is little Moses, who was drawn out of the 
 water. Might you not put over against his name 
 the Water-Hly ? 
 
 Little Timothy, who was so quiet and humble a 
 learner of his Bible, and from a child wise to salva- 
 tion. Might you not call him the Violet ? 
 
 And the little Hebrew maid, who dressed the hair of 
 Naaman's wife, so modest and yet outspoken — instru- 
 mental in saving her master's body and her master's 
 
144 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 soul. Might she not remind you of the Wallflower of 
 the spring ? Will you (older boys and girls) try your 
 hand at this exercise, and send me a list of Bible 
 names linked with the flowers that you think may 
 be suggested by their characters ? 
 
 And above all delight yourselves in Him Whose 
 name is Jesus, — and over against Whose dear name 
 you put the ' Eose of Sharon,' and the ' Lily of 
 the Valley,' not a lily that grows far up the moun- 
 tain, difficult to climb, but down where any child can 
 reach it, and enjoy it — the ' lily of the valley! 
 
 But I must hasten to close, by adding as one 
 reason more why children are like flowers, — that 
 their bodies soon wither and die. 
 
 Hence the many, many little graves in the cemetery. 
 But the cemetery is God's garden, where many seeds 
 are sown, and, like the flowers, will come up again, 
 will rise again in glory ' when Jesus comes.' I sat 
 the other night by the death-bed of a young believer. 
 I sat with my heart and my eyes full ; for Jesus was 
 giving to that dying one some of the foretastes of 
 heaven. ' Jesus only,' were the words he loved to 
 come over. It was like the singing of sweet birds, 
 on the graver side of the river of death. The angels 
 seemed to be throwing over the wall to him some of 
 the flowers of Paradise. 
 
 ' My Beloved ' (says the Church in the Song of 
 Solomon, vi. 2, 3) — ' My Beloved is gone down into 
 His garden to gather lilies.' 
 
EDINBURGH — DUNCAN STREET. 145 
 
 ' Who has stolen my favourite flower ? Who 
 dared to touch it ? ' cried the gardener one morning, 
 as he entered the greenhouse. As he came out in his 
 rage, he met the bLack butler, to whom he repeated 
 the angry question, ' Who dared to touch my favour- 
 ite flower ? ' ' Oh,' said the butler, ' I'll tell you. 
 This morning, at an early hour, our master sent me 
 to bring him that very flower, and he is wearing it 
 on his breast.' Then the gardener was silent. The 
 whole garden was the master's, and might he not do 
 what he liked with his own ? So when the black 
 butler Death comes into our domestic garden, to take 
 away our freshest and fairest, our sweetest, our best, 
 what is it but ' another Lily gathered ' from the lower 
 to the upper garden, from the shade to the sunshine. 
 
 ' There everlasting spring abides 
 And never withering flowers, 
 Death, like a narrow stream, divides 
 That happy land from ours.' 
 
 ' Come, children, march to Immanuel's ground, 
 For soon we'll hear the trumpet sound, 
 And then we shall with Jesus reign. 
 And never, never part again.' 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 Pastoral Mork anti ^mxz 3Life. 
 1848-1862. 
 
 Grange Cottage, Newington — an unpretending abode, 
 in its quiet garden, walled in from a rather stirring 
 street, and near the church — what memories it recalls 
 to many a one ! memories treasured in the inmost 
 soul, to be exposed to no rude touch of the careless, 
 and unconcerned, and worldly ! How many poverty- 
 stricken souls have entered there and found untold 
 wealth ! how many careworn ones have left, feeling 
 that their burdens had been shared, and that the 
 light from above had been brought to shine upon 
 their path, making duty clearer and difficulty easier ! 
 
 Those who were uncertain about their relations 
 with God found there in Mr. Eobertson a most 
 sympathetic friend, who would spare no pains, and 
 grudge no time, in trying to solve their difficulties, 
 to discover the mode of applying to the case the one 
 remedy, in the efficacy of which his faith was unfailing. 
 It was no dry repetition of doctrine, no formal use 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 147 
 
 of a system, from which the spirit had gone, but a 
 skilful bringing of persons together, — the sinner and 
 the Saviour ; the one of whom had been miserably 
 living in ignorance or misunderstanding of the other, 
 and was just wanting the pure story, as the Bible tells 
 it, to dismiss the doubts, and receive, with all free- 
 ness, the freely-given salvation. 
 
 How promptly would he reply to letters or questions 
 of inquirers, and with what earnest, persevering care 
 would he watch over cases of hopeful concern, 
 supplying suitable counteractives in each case against 
 what might deaden impression, or check full entry 
 into the glorious light ! 
 
 Mr. Eobertson used to tell how his desire to guide 
 seeking souls to the light was stimulated by the 
 memory of his own early experiences. 
 
 When groping in darkness, and longing for guidance, 
 though he had the cream of spiritual teaching in his 
 own home, it was not unnatural that he should look 
 to him on whose public ministrations he waited from 
 week to week, to help him out of the maze in which he 
 was, ' to a place where liberty and room is.' The shy, 
 shrinking boy would linger behind the rest of the con- 
 gregation, at the close of the Sabbath morning's ser- 
 vice, and wait the coming footsteps of his minister, 
 earnestly hoping that he might give him an oppor- 
 tunity of opening to him the troubles of his young 
 heart. 
 
 When he passed, the boy followed at a little dis- 
 
148 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 tance, eagerly watching if he would not even look 
 round, and give him a chance of speaking. The 
 studious pastor, absorbed in the thought of the many, 
 and the food for them, little dreamt how a little per- 
 sonal crumb was longed for by this young hungry 
 soul, and did not even notice him. 
 
 The impression of the feeling of disappointment left 
 was ever vivid, and accounts for Mr. Eobertson's being 
 always on the outlook for such youthful cravings, 
 ready continually to meet them more than half-way, 
 and to help out the longings and questionings ; and 
 for his being often found surrounded by groups of 
 children. 
 
 Lenient and tender towards all who sought his 
 counsel, he was peculiarly so to the young ; rarely 
 criticising, rarely finding fault, — winsome always. 
 While not lacking power to discern blemishes of 
 character, lie would, by the gentlest hint, suggest 
 courses of thought and action in the direction most 
 needed, and always in such a way as to make the 
 listener anxious to enter into the possibilities pro- 
 posed, — leading, drawing, never driving. As the 
 natural result of this, of his fine sense of the sacred- 
 ness of friendship, and of the respect due to the 
 feelings of every one, people of all classes were 
 eager to unbosom to him what lay nearest their 
 hearts, and to seek counsel on matters spiritual and 
 temporal, which they would carefully conceal from all 
 others. 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 149 
 
 One could not be long under his roof, without 
 knowing to what an extent this was the case — how in 
 this, that, and the other room, visitors were waiting, 
 seeking a share of his time, on very various errands, 
 and all with equal faith in his sincere cordiality and 
 trustworthiness, and in his willingness to involve 
 himself in whatever care or labour their cases might 
 need. He often put himself to great trouble to help 
 students by securing teaching for them, writing them 
 introductions, and personally recommending them in 
 likely quarters. 
 
 If anxious inquirers (and of these many were outside 
 his own denomination) were paying repeated visits, 
 eagerly seeking the truth, and yet carefully testing 
 every step suggested before taking it, he would — in 
 addition to his own instructions — be selecting from 
 book or manuscript, whatever might tend to solve each 
 successive difficulty, and getting some member of the 
 household to transcribe it, without saying why. All 
 in the household knew well that any such service 
 was meant to contribute to the one great end of his 
 ministry ; and it was willingly rendered for his sake. 
 
 Among other things that had been repeatedly copied 
 for his use in this way were some verses, entitled 
 ' The Mistake and its Eectification,' of which the 
 following is the story. One Sabbath Mr. Eobertson 
 had preached two sermons, in which he tried to show 
 the difference between man's way of seeking to save 
 himself, and God's gospel way, the text being, ' My 
 
150 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways 
 my ways, saith the Lord.' Next day, the manuscript 
 above mentioned was sent in, anonymously. He was 
 struck with its truth and beauty, and, convinced that 
 it was well fitted to do good, he frequently made use 
 of it. He had never seen or used it but in MS. It 
 had, however, afterwards been printed, and widely 
 circulated, as one of the series of ' Stirling Tracts,' The 
 authorship of it was not known for about five years. 
 
 In a bookseller's shop, ]\Ir. Eobertson met a friend, 
 whom he noticed to be eagerly looking at this ' Stirling 
 Tract.' Surprised to see it in print, he asked him : 
 ' Is that new to you ? Did I never give you a copy 
 of it ? ' 
 
 ' It is new to me in this form,' replied the other. 
 ' You never gave me a copy, but I sent you one.' 
 
 This friend — the Eev. James Proctor, who died 
 soon after — was much touched on hearing how useful 
 his lines had been to many ; and agreed, at Mr. 
 Robertson's request, to write other verses, suitable 
 for those asking what they ' must do to be saved.' 
 These were published, along with the former, by 
 ' the Book Society,' under the title, ' Man's "Way and 
 God's Way.' 
 
 What a ministry it was for anxious inquirers all 
 through, was testified by the weekly opportunities 
 announced for conversation on spiritual things, not 
 only in the vestry, at the close of each service, but 
 also at his own house. 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 151 
 
 It will thus be seen that with the two services his 
 Sabbath work only began. With the gleanings to be 
 gathered, in these conversations, of the day's teaching, 
 and the sick to be visited, besides Sabbath-school 
 exercises, it was often matter of wonder how his 
 not-too-strong frame sustained the strain of prolonged 
 and intensely engrossing work, without what others 
 would deem necessary intermission and support. But 
 the extent to which he was revived and encouraged, 
 by evident tokens of blessing on his labours, was a 
 literal fulfilment of Christ's own words : ' My meat is 
 to do the will of Him that sent me, and to finish His 
 work.' As a ministerial friend already quoted said 
 after his death, ' I do not know any one who might 
 with less presumption appropriate this language of the 
 Master.' 
 
 Often did he reach home on Sabbath, long after the 
 pubhc services were over — weary enough in body, but 
 gladdened and strengthened in spirit, and utterly 
 oblivious of the need of 'the meat that perisheth.' 
 A long evening was often spent, after all this, in 
 conversation with those who had come to the house 
 seeking him, and who were still dealt with indivi- 
 dually, and with such patience as each needed ; 
 neither weariness nor anything else being allowed to 
 interfere with the sacred work. 
 
 Thus had he ever-growing experience in dealing 
 with various minds, which suggested to him fresh ways 
 of putting ' the old, old story,' so as to arrest those 
 
152 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 (not a few) to whom it had become ' as a tale that 
 had been told,' or those others who had never heard 
 the tale before, except, perhaps, in some perverted 
 and unscriptural form — as a gospel that was yet no 
 gospel to a needy and helpless sinner. 
 
 It was sometimes no small cause of gladness to 
 members of his household (either perhaps from a 
 somewhat selfish point of view, or from consideration 
 for him) when occasionally these calls from without, 
 on Sabbath evenings, were fewer than usual, and 
 when he felt at leisure to sit with them, talking, 
 in his natural, genial way, of the things that lay 
 always nearest his heart, or answering questions and 
 solving difficulties, whilst rebuking no one's ignorance 
 and hurting no one's feelings. 
 
 An old fellow-student, already mentioned, says : — 
 
 ' Of all the ministers with whom I have been acquainted, 
 and whom I have had the opportunity of particularly observ- 
 ing, I regard Mr. Robertson as the most successful in winning 
 souls. Only " the day shall declare it." Doubtless he shall 
 then have not a few for " a crown of rejoicing." From an 
 early period of his ministry in INIusselburgh, he set apart an 
 evening every week to meet with those who were anxious 
 about their spiritual interests. This was continued in Edin- 
 burgh, alike in his years of struggle and of success. Of this 
 conference many, first and last, availed themselves, and found 
 that God there met with them and dispelled their darkness. 
 
 ' His was the " still small voice," whose appeal is to con- 
 science and affection j and this speaks most powerfully, and 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 153 
 
 is best heard in " the secret chamber." Sechision is its field 
 of action. There, teacher and tanght are brought most heart 
 to heart, and the whole personality of the one acts with 
 fullest force on the whole personality of the other.' 
 
 This openness to personal dealing yielded ricli fruit 
 in the experience and life of one — 
 
 ' A man of science and high talent, who, like all thought- 
 ful men, had often deeply pondered the great problems 
 which hang like a cloud over human life. Especially had he 
 thought and read much about the great questions of sin, of 
 man's acceptance with God, of the possibility of atonement, 
 and of the restoration of the Divine image in error-stricken 
 humanity, and had long been seeking some rock on which to 
 find sure footing, instead of the various bases he had been 
 trying, only to find them shifting sand.' He was led to 
 attend Mr. Robertson's ministry occasionally, owing to the 
 distance of his residence from his own usual place of wor- 
 ship — belonging to another communion. 
 
 ' His state of mind had been intensified by the birth of his 
 first child. The first gush of a parental love, that never 
 afterwards ceased to flow out in a bountiful stream, had 
 thrown new light on the tender relationship of the Divine 
 Father to His children, the loving-kindness with which He 
 regards them, and the mercies He bestows. This, and a 
 sense of our pitiable condition while we live apart from it 
 all, made him listen with deep interest to such ministrations 
 as he now received, for they touched a chord that vibrated 
 in sympathy with the preacher's words, and which drew him 
 to frequent them more and more habitually. 
 
 'The thought, moreover, that on his relations to God 
 
154 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 depended, not only the future of liis own soul, but the 
 spiritual welfare of his beloved wife and infant child, added 
 to his concern. 
 
 ' He took advantage of Mr. Eobertson's simple arrangement 
 for conversation, to become personally acquainted with him, 
 and to unburden to him his whole mind, and especially 
 to talk over with him a series of discourses Mr. Robertson 
 was then delivering on Isaiah liii. While listening to them 
 he had got a new view of sin, of the Divine Sin-bearer, and 
 of the need that the sinner should concur with the plan for 
 his deliverance. Docile and meek as a little child, he sought 
 to learn more perfectly his lesson in the school of Christ, 
 and the " ambassador for Christ," faithful to his commission, 
 continued to declare Jesus Christ and Him crucified, as the 
 way of access to God, as a propitiation freely made, and given 
 for the remission of sin, till at last, one evening, as the 
 simple statement was being repeated, bright light broke out, 
 where only the faint streaks of dawn had hitherto appeared. 
 
 ' " Eternal love was seen to be wedded to eternal law." 
 
 ' " Mercy and truth met together ; righteousness and peace 
 kissed each other." " I see it," he said, " I see it clearly ; " 
 
 quickly adding, "How I wish that my M had been 
 
 with me ! " 
 
 ' Tears of joy were followed by prayers of gratitude. 
 
 ' His devotedly-attached wife accompanied him on his next 
 visit, when the conversation was renewed Avith increasing 
 interest and increasing light. Prepared, by many an earnest 
 talk with her husband, for the reception of the truth 
 which had brought light into his mind, she had fewer 
 obstacles to oppose to it ; and henceforth husband and wife 
 walked hand in hand as declared servants of Christ. 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 155 
 
 * Fresh energy and new motives had entered into their lives, 
 and their obedience, made no longer a ground of merit, came 
 to be in the glad and willing spirit of those who, having 
 received much, love much, and therefore long to serve 
 much. 
 
 ' As Mr. Robertson said of him, " The channel of his grati- 
 tude was deepened in proportion as he clearly saw that 
 nothing now needs to flow in the channel of expiation." 
 
 ' The friendship begun under such solemn and interest- 
 ing circumstances continued unbroken and undimmed, with 
 constant interchange of service, till death. 
 
 ' During its course the remark was made to a relative, " If 
 I did not value James Robertson as my own pastor, I could 
 not help doing so for the sake of my children." 
 
 ' He often urged Mr. Robertson to continue his practice of 
 reserving the Sabbath evening for conversation with in- 
 quirers, or others, and never to omit the announcing of it, as 
 he said : " You don't know how many may be, as I was, 
 anxious to have the advantage of individual dealing with 
 them about their hope for eternity." ' 
 
 During his own holiday time Mr. Eobertson wrote 
 to a young man who had been seeking his counsel : — 
 
 ' My dear Friend, — It has been matter of much regret to 
 me that I have been so frequently prevented from meeting 
 your wish for converse on the great things of the great 
 salvation. . . . Anything whatever is a blessing that draws 
 or drives us to Jesus. The Avay to God, by Him, is so 
 exactly suited to a poor lost soul — so suited to you and me 
 — a way sprinkled with atoning blood — ^justice and mercy 
 forming such a Avail of defence on either side; and then 
 
156 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 the way leads to such a rich Treasure House, filled with all 
 blessings for time and for eternity. 
 
 ' Is there not inexpressible' sweetness in the thought that 
 salvation is not of works, that our full and complete accept- 
 ance is not in our wretched selves 1 It is all, all of grace. 
 It is Christ first, Christ last, Christ all through. The spot 
 wet with His blood is the only spot in the universe where 
 God and the guilty can meet ; but to every one who hears 
 its voice, that blood does speak of God satisfied, and satisfied 
 by being abundantly glorified. It tells that Christ's life 
 was given for our life, and that we are warranted and 
 welcomed to carry our failures and misdoings, all our evil 
 within and fears without, all, all, at once to Him. It is 
 our mighty privilege to open our hearts to Him just as they 
 are, Avith all their deadness, coldness, blackness — keeping 
 nothing back, telling Him all. I hope your choicest seat is 
 at the foot of His cross. I know no other Eefuge — I need 
 no other, and I know no way of entering or re-entering that 
 Kefuge, but trust. Let us never distrust the act of simple 
 trust — trust in Him who " cannot lie." 
 
 ' But I do not well know how to speak to your case till 
 you let me understand what troiibles you, and what stumbles 
 you. . . .' 
 
 It may be remarked here that Mr. Eobertson used 
 to lament the influence of the holiday season on people 
 generally, through the use they made of it ; and was 
 specially anxious to guard his own flock against its 
 temptations. He felt as if people did not always 
 return in autumn, with the same wholesomeness of 
 spirit with which they left home ; that, in their 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 157 
 
 various places of sojourn, they sometimes cast them- 
 selves loose from their usual restraints, doing things 
 they would not do at home, and bringing back influ- 
 ences of carelessness, that had a tendency to reduce 
 the atmosphere in and around them. It was not 
 therefore without anxiety and warning that he parted 
 with his people on such occasions. 
 
 Another holiday letter to a young friend, for whose 
 interests he was caring : — 
 
 '25th Aug. 1855. 
 
 ' We must not lose sight or sound of each other. . . . 
 Two days I was over in Arran. . . That island is quite 
 a picture gallery of natural beauties, and some precious 
 lessons were suggested on better things. One was in con- 
 nection with that sentiment of the 36tli Psalm : " Thy 
 righteousness is like the great mountains. Thy judgments 
 are a great deep." If our Father's dealings with us are an 
 immense Ocean, whose depths Ave have no power of sound- 
 ing, on each side of that abyss rise towering moimtains — 
 those giants of the earth, with their summits glowing in 
 sunlight. 
 
 ' The Goatfelh and their kindred are emblems of the 
 "Righteousness of God" — that righteousness within whose 
 embrace all His dealings rest, even as the waters do within 
 the circle of the everlasting hills. "We are to prepare our- 
 selves for going down into the " great deep " of God's 
 "judgments," by planting our feet more firmly on the 
 " great mountains " of God's righteousness. Let us dwell 
 more on what God is, and then we shall not be greatly 
 moved by anything that God does. ISI'ever can we go adrift 
 
158 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 so far from land, on the dark waters of Providence, as not 
 to have discernible, by faith, some peak of those "Hills 
 whence cometh onr help." When we take our stand on 
 the gospel character of God, and regard it as immoveably 
 girding round the whole economy of Providence, then we 
 can afford to cast our eye over the vast heaving ocean of 
 human events. Its tossings and ebbings need occasion us 
 no agonizing solicitude. For however much the waves may 
 be agitated and roaring, they cannot pass the bounds our 
 God has appointed. We may feel the solidity of the rock 
 on which we rest, the revealed wisdom and love of God in 
 Christ, and we Jinoio that this is the same alike in the 
 sunshine and in the storm. 
 
 'Erroneovis vieAvs of the Divine character evidently lie 
 at the root of our German friend's case. I had a long talk 
 with him in his lodgings that evening after you left. When 
 I went in he was alone, and reading one of the capital tracts 
 you had enclosed in your envelope. We started with it, 
 bvit it was not long before I drew out a distinct avowal of 
 his Socinian creed, the denial of the doctrine of the Trinity 
 and of the divinity of Jesus ; and the venomous egg from 
 which all his other errors are hatched is his false estimate 
 of sin. Of course he feels that he has the best reason for 
 making light of sm, that he may give a mere creature 
 Saviour the less to do. We were interrupted by a gentle- 
 man coming in just when we were at the most interesting 
 
 point ; but, of his own accord, he came down to next 
 
 day seeking me. Unfortunately I was out, and to be away 
 
 for some hours, but had some conversation, which 
 
 confirms my impression that he still needs to be aioakened 
 to know himself. I hope to find some time when we return 
 
PASTOEAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 159 
 
 to to resume our inquiry. . . . You will wield the 
 
 sword of "All prayer." "There is none like unto it." It 
 is bathed in heaven. May the glorious power of Christ 
 rest upon you, that from the treasures of a heart enriched 
 by His love an influence for good may flow forth on all 
 around you. ..." Oh for a closer walk," that our Avhole 
 life may be one Emmaus journey — happy in the converse 
 of our risen, living, loving Lord. "Will you continue to pray 
 this for me, as I will try to do for you 1 Let me have the 
 happiness of hearing soon of all "the way by which the 
 Lord has led you " since we parted.' 
 
 Mr. Eobertson's Fridays and Saturdays were always 
 a time of close seclusion and hard, unremitting labour, 
 with study door locked, and orders given to the 
 servant not to allow him to be disturbed, unless for 
 some reason of serious urgency. When he joined the 
 family circle for a hurried meal, he came with pencil 
 and paper, to catch each passing thought, and with 
 his mind full of his subject — throwing out suggestive 
 hints of what he was gathering for his people, and 
 feeding on richly and joyfully himself ; then, having 
 given enough to rouse a current of devout thought, 
 he would be off — with a loving leave-taking — to his 
 cherished work again. The days of study were often 
 prolonged far into the night, and the children would 
 hear his study door open after daybreak, on Sabbath 
 morning, for a short period of rest, to be followed 
 generally by return to work at an early hour. Often, 
 through the quiet hours of night, his voice would be 
 
160 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 heard singing in his happy toil — the breaking forth 
 of a joyous soul which could not be repressed. 
 
 One of his domestic servants has precious memories 
 of the time spent in his house. On one occasion, 
 when sitting up with some of the children who were 
 ill, she heard sounds coming from his study. Thinking 
 there might be something wrong, she went to the study 
 door, and she heard Mr. Eobertson saying : ' Lord, 
 the wlioh congregation — may not one of them be 
 awanting.' In the still hours of the night, while she 
 was watching the children he was pleading for the 
 souls of his people. 
 
 Many young people at school in Edinburgh, and 
 away from home, spent good part of their Saturday 
 holiday at Grange Cottage — or, in later years, at 6 
 Salisbury Eoad ; and however pressed with his pulpit 
 preparation, Mr. Eobertson usually found time for 
 kindly interest and inquiries, and sought to make 
 his house feel as homelike as possible for them, 
 being heartily aided in this by those around 
 him. 
 
 Their souls were to be watched for too. Increasing 
 relish for things spiritual was marked with much joy, 
 and fed. Worldly surroundings and influences else- 
 where, and any evidence of yielding to them, were 
 mourned over, and counter-attractions and influences 
 were offered. 
 
 There would be the ' good-night ' in the study, or 
 elsewhere, before leaving, with the parting ' text,' and 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. IGl 
 
 a few words about it, that felt as if they came straight 
 from the ' Lord of the Hill ' Himself, in this inter- 
 preter's house ; and then the few words of appropriate 
 prayer responsive to the text — uttered just as they 
 were, standing or sitting ; and the young stranger, 
 among strangers, would go away fortified — determined, 
 by grace, to lead a better life, confirmed in every 
 better feeling and resolution by the human hand that 
 came so near, and that helped to get a closer grasp 
 of the Divine Hand, which so often in youthful 
 struggles and searchings seems — only seems — so far 
 away. 
 
 Dr. Joseph Brown says : — 
 
 ' In the early part of his ministry, there Avere few 
 preachers by whom the wants of the children were con- 
 sidered in " the daily ministration." Things are greatly 
 mended now, and Mr. Kobertson did much to mend them. 
 He set himself, in the exercise of a holy ingenuity, to 
 devise means for arresting and rewarding the attention of 
 the young ; and there are many young men and maidens, 
 ay, and many fathers and mothers, in different parts of the 
 country, who will testify that he was the first minister who 
 interested, instimcted, and impressed them. Many of our 
 ministers — I hope most of them — recognise, ui some form 
 or other, the claims of the young ; but Mr. Robertson 
 was before them; and as he was before them in point of 
 time, so was he before them in point of efficiency, He 
 stood confessed to the end as the prince of preachers to 
 children.' 
 
 L 
 
162 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 We quote an extract from an appreciative tribute 
 by the Eev. J. D. Taylor, Kilwinning, son of an 
 esteemed elder in Mr. Robertson's congregation : — 
 
 ' He interwove " Children's Portions " Avith his ordinary 
 discourses, long before the days of special services for the 
 young. He had an almost unequalled felicity in making 
 divine truth attractive to the young, his addresses to them 
 being rich in running illustrations, and exuberant with 
 fancy, abounding in those soft and silken cords of image 
 and allegory, Avhich little hands ever grasp with delight. 
 I can well recall the first time I ever heard him, now nearly 
 a quarter of a century ago, Avhen he preached a Sabbath 
 evening sermon to children from the text : " Behold I stand 
 at the door and knock." I have never forgotten with what 
 graphic and impressive power he described those bolts and 
 bars, by which so many keep the loving Saviour out of 
 their hearts. 
 
 ' By putting two texts together, as he often did, he got 
 what he called a stereoscopic view of truth.' 
 
 Some very interesting reminiscences, of which we 
 have gladly availed ourselves in some of the following 
 pages, have been kindly given by Mr. James Good- 
 fellow, the much - respected Home Missionary of the 
 congregation, who had many opportunities of accom- 
 panying, and specially observing Mr. Eobertson in his 
 work. He says : — 
 
 ' Preaching in Duncan Street Church once from the text, 
 " They shall revive as the corn, and grow as the vine," Mr. 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 163 
 
 Robertson asked the children if ever they had seen a vine. 
 Then he invited any of them who had not to come over to 
 his house on the morrow, and he would show them one. 
 On Monday morning the bell rang, and a crowd of child- 
 ren were at the door — they had come to see the vine. Mr. 
 Robertson took them in liis own happy way and showed them 
 it, and preached a little sermon to them, taking their faith 
 in his word as an illustration of the Avay in which they 
 were to trust Chrisfs word. The children Avent away ; but 
 in a little while another group came, and they too had their 
 wish gratified, and were pointed to the True Vine. That 
 Monday's sermon to the young proved a memorable one to 
 some of them.' 
 
 On another occasion he at once secured the atten- 
 tion of a large audience of children and teachers by 
 the following introduction : — 
 
 ' As I was coming along in the train yesterday there were 
 three men in the carriage beside me. I knew one of them 
 to be a farmer from his appearance and conversation; I 
 knew the second to be a miller in the same way ; and the 
 third I knew to be a fisher, from the line and hooks that 
 were wound round his hat. I have come to you to-day as 
 a fisher, and when I throw out my gospel line, do not be 
 afraid to lay hold on the beautiful hook (my text), for I come, 
 not to injure you, but to draw you out of the muddy stream 
 of sin into the pure water of life ; ' and so he cast his line 
 in his own inimitable Avay. 
 
 During those Duncan Street days a happy band of 
 little ones was gathering round Mr. Robertson's own 
 
1G4 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 table. We have a glimpse of them in the following 
 letter to a sister : — 
 
 * . . . Mamma is at present down-stairs in the midst of 
 her wee lassies. You would know them getting bigger and 
 wiser. . . . 
 
 ' If you were here you would see Mary put her spoon into 
 the sugar, and, taking a great mouthful, say to her mother, 
 "Will you forgive me this time yet, mamma? " Something 
 had fallen which Mary did not much care to lift when 
 " Mamma " was bidding her do it, " mamma," she says, 
 " I think it ivonH lift. It's surely sticking to the ground." 
 
 ' Her mamma was telling her the other day what a wicked 
 world this was, and the happy home heaven would be, Avhen 
 she replied in her quick way, " Why do you stay here then ? 
 Let us go home to heaven — -just let us go to-day ! " The 
 dear lassies, they are brimful of life and happiness. . . .' 
 
 * Mr. Robertson ' (says Mr. Young) ' was a great favourite 
 with the young people of the congregation, and in the 
 households where he was wont to visit. He delighted in 
 their company, and was very successful in drawing them 
 out to talk with him, and in interesting them by his own 
 conversation. Our children's soirees and Sabbath - school 
 excursions he enjoyed quite as much as any of the children, 
 giving pleasure to all around, while he received from 
 them an abundant measure of it for himself. His fund 
 of anecdote and illustration seemed inexhaustible, and he 
 poured out " things new and old," in lavish profusion, for 
 his eager young listeners. Riddles and conundrums were 
 in great favour with him, and he had a plentiful stock of 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 165 
 
 them, so that he could keep a merry band beside him, in 
 alternating puzzle and laughter, Avith his guesses, and 
 enigmas, and strange plays upon Avords. He used to say 
 he studied best on the Saturday evening if there was a 
 gathering of young people at his house, and he could hear, 
 in his study, the echo of gladsome song and merry play 
 from the drawing-room. Certainly, on such occasions, his 
 youthful visitors Avere in no doubt as to his desire for 
 their full enjoyment of the evening's happy diversions, and 
 gladly Avelcomed his participation in their pleasure, if for 
 a few minutes he was drawn from his study to join the 
 company. 
 
 ' Many a boy or girl has left his presence, pondering over 
 some quaint question put by him, or some puzzling enigma ; 
 and I have seen children run up to him in the street, to tell 
 him the answer to some conundrum he had dropped, on his 
 last visitation to their home. In this way he made many 
 an opportunity for instilling a wholesome lesson, or awakening 
 a serious thought, and he was skilled in using such oppor- 
 tunities to good purpose.' 
 
 Another friend tells how, one day in Glasgow, a 
 little hand was felt gently pulling his coat from 
 behind, and how, on his turning round, a little voice 
 
 timidly said : ' Please, sir, the clock has ticked 
 
 times since I was born ' — mentioning the number. 
 
 A friend above quoted says : — 
 
 ' His household visits were like gleams of sunshine ; in the 
 home he was the children's friend. Visiting a family of his 
 flock one day, he was at once surrounded by the children. 
 
166 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 He took one of them, a little boy, upon his knee, and asked 
 him what he was going to be when he grew up. Then he 
 asked him what liis brother James was going to be. The 
 boy answered, " Oh ! I think James wants to be nothing." 
 "Well," said Mr. Kobertson, "let us all be like James, 
 nothing. ' Oh to be nothing, nothing,' — emptied of self and 
 full of Christ." His words are still fresh on the boy's 
 memory. Calling on another occasion, and finding that the 
 father was ill and in bed, he sent this message to him by one 
 of the children, and, in order to fix it on the child's memory, 
 he gave a word for each finger : " All . is . yours . but . 
 yourself." Adding to the boy, " Kemember ! all the fingers 
 his but the thumb," ' 
 
 He gave the same thought as a puzzle to other two 
 young people, who remember it with much interest. 
 He was driving with them a short distance after a 
 meeting of the last Synod he attended, when he said 
 before parting : ' Now, children, I am going to give you 
 a riddle to find out for me. All things belong to you 
 except one thing ; what is that ? ' They thought over 
 it for some days, and then found that they had hit on 
 the right answer : ' All things are yours . . . and ye 
 are Christ's ' (1 Cor. iii. 21, 23). 
 
 As he was passing along one day with some flowers 
 in his hand, a message-boy asked him for one for his 
 jacket. Mr. Eobertson gave him one, and the boy put 
 it in his button-hole. Mr. Kobertson said : ' Now I have 
 another flower for your heart : " Create in me a clean 
 heart, O God." Have you got hold of it ? Can you 
 
PASTORAL WORK AND HOME LIFE. 1G7 
 
 repeat it ? ' The boy repeated it. ' Well,' said Mr. 
 Eobertson, ' put it in your heart ; you put the other in 
 your jacket.' The boy looked puzzled, and said, ' How 
 do I do it ? ' Mr. Eobertson said, ' You pray it. You 
 ask God to do it. Do you think you need a clean 
 heart ? ' The boy said, ' Yes.' ' Do you desire a clean 
 heart ? ' ' Yes.' ' You want all the sin washed out 
 of it ? ' ' Yes.' ' Then just ask Jesus to do it. Do 
 not carry your sinful heart any longer. He wants it 
 now to make it clean.' 
 
 ' I did not give you a withered flower. So you 
 must not keep your heart until it is all withered and 
 hardened by sin, and then take it to Jesus. . . . Have 
 you put the flower in your heart now ? ' The boy 
 answered, ' I think so,' and went away looking at the 
 flower in his button-hole and then back at Mr. Eobert- 
 son as long as he could see him. 
 
 Speaking to his Bible-class on one occasion on the 
 subtle temptations of Satan, he said, ' He is bad every 
 way you take him — his very name, for instance. 
 Take away the d and he is evil, transpose the e and 
 he is vile, take away e and v and he is il — an il, vile, 
 evil devil ! ' 
 
 It was natural that Mr. Robertson in his love for 
 children should love also to speak of them. He would 
 often draw a friend aside from the busy street, if only 
 for a moment, to tell some story about their touching 
 words and childlike ways. One of these friends gives 
 us an anecdote such as he delighted to relate. 'A 
 
168 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 little friend had been making a round of visits along 
 with her mother. Several ladies upon whom they 
 called were not at home. Talking of tliis afterwards, 
 the child said : " Mamma, is God ever out ? " " No, 
 dear ; why do you ask ? " " Oh, I thought that with 
 all the angels and people in heaven to look after, God 
 7nust sometimes be from home." ' 
 
 Next to the children the mothers had a warm and 
 sympathetic place in Mr. Eobertson's heart. 
 
 At a Conference held in Moffat, not very long before 
 his death, those who saw and heard him (we are told) 
 can never forget the light that shone in his face, and 
 the wonderful spirituality that breathed in all his 
 utterances. In addressing the children, he told them 
 of two boys who were talking together about the 
 Pilgrims Progress. The one said to the other that he 
 liked Christian very much. The other said that he 
 liked Christiana better, for while Christian went alone, 
 Christiana took all her children with her. Then, 
 looking down upon the mothers who were present, Mr. 
 Ptobertson said, ' The Lord bless you, Christianas ! ' 
 
 Visiting a home once in which there were a number 
 of children, he found the mother careworn and weary. 
 His remark was : ' What a number of errands you will 
 be having to the Throne ! ' The friend who tells this 
 adds that the saying has been often repeated by her to 
 anxious mothers since. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 €l0uti antj Sunsljine. 
 1855— 
 
 Though Mr. Eobertson liad gathered a new and loving 
 home circle round himself, there was no change or 
 loosening in his clinging to his old home. He wrote 
 to a sister : — 
 
 ' . . . Do you really look for me on Tuesday next ? I 
 wish I could, but must content myself with a mental trip, 
 an aerial ramble. I am many, many a time beside you 
 in spirit. Greenhill will always be home to my heart. 
 But "far better" still will it be when we bid every such 
 home a final adieu, and close our eyes on earth for ever, 
 to find our home with Him who says, "I go to prepare 
 a place for you, and I will come again and receive you to 
 Myself." . . . 
 
 '. . . I never have time to write a letter except in the most 
 hurried manner at this season of the year [Nov.]. It is well 
 for us to remember that we are not our own. If we are 
 disposed to forget it, the Lord keeps us in mind of it. What 
 nests we would build to ourselves if we were left to our own 
 
170 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 disposal ! But there is a gentle, guiding, holy, loving Eye 
 upon us when we know it not. My dear sister, what has 
 not sovereign grace done for us ! ' 
 
 Again to the same : — 
 
 ' . . . You surely hold me to be a privileged man, in 
 respect of correspondence, else you. might well disown me. 
 Thanks for yours, which relieved ns of all our fears that 
 William had broken his leg or his head somewhere near 
 Coivlairs ! [referring to a recent railway accident]. 
 
 'Did you ever meet any of the L.'s of F. when you were 
 here ? I spent a day or two with them lately, and I never 
 saw a family so like our own Greeuhill one. The coincidences 
 would divert you when I have time to tell you of them. . . 
 The very candlesticks at which the girls sew beside their 
 mother in the winter evenings seem duplicates of yours. And 
 their eldest brother comes in about 8 o'clock, throws him- 
 self back in the arm-chair, and reads them the newspapers 
 and the magazines ! Then the house, the rooms, the piano, 
 the very gig that takes them to church, the calm presiding 
 wisdom of their mother, are almost facsimiles. But she is 
 a widow, and they are fatherless ! Blessed be God that ice 
 are yet permitted to look up in the faces of the dear guides 
 of our youth.' 
 
 Towards the close of 1855 (7th December), death, 
 however, again entered the Greenhill circle, and re- 
 moved the loved and gentle mother. The days being 
 evidently at hand when she must die, Mr. Eobertson 
 wrote to the watchers at home : — - 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 171 
 
 'Nov. 30, 1855. 
 
 'My very dear Sisters, — I am trying to work away at 
 sermons for Sabbath, but you can believe that my heart is 
 most with you. I Avish the subjects that have come in 
 course had been more in harmony with my feehngs. I 
 should have liked to preach to myself, from some such words 
 as these : " Now is my soul troiibled, and what shall I say ? 
 Father, save me from this hour? . . . Father, glorify Thy 
 name ; " or, " Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from 
 me : nevertheless, not^ my will, but Thine be done." He 
 recognised what befell Him as the appointment of a Father's 
 will, and dealt out to Him by a Father's hand; therefore 
 did he cheerfully submit to God's will, and glorify God's 
 name by such endurance. 
 
 'Yes, it is a Father's will, who knows our frame, who 
 knows also, and has appointed everything that is occurring 
 to us, and is not this blessed remembrance the sweetest 
 balm to our spirits ? Love comes to our relief. The cup is 
 bitter, but we love Him who administers it, and love takes 
 the bitterness away. Our Father's will occasions no pain 
 in heaven. It cannot, then, occasion needless pain on 
 earth ; for it is the will of the same God. Blessed be His 
 name for the consolation ! Without it, what should we be ? 
 With it, aU. is easy. Resignation almost ceases to be an 
 effort. It becomes as " meat " and " drink " to know, obey, 
 and submit to His will in all things. 
 
 * May you and I enter more into fellowship with 
 Jesus in saying, " I delight to do Thy will ! " AVliat 
 depths of untold sorrow the doing of that will led Him 
 into ; — yet He delighted in it, whilst His human heart 
 
172 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 felt the sorrow in all its anguish. I think on Gambold's 
 words : — 
 
 ' " Who can help praying now ? 
 
 My soul is on the stretch, and busy with his God, 
 
 About some big request I cannot utter." 
 
 'But He knows all the meaning of these "unutterable 
 groanings," which impotent sympathy wrings from the 
 burdened heart. Let us not "fear as we enter into the 
 cloud." In that cloud we shall see His glory. 
 
 ' I write these hurried lines, that, in your hearts and my 
 own, the spirit of praise may be stirred up amid our heavi- 
 ness, and that we may " follow on," as David did, to make 
 "the shadow of His wings our refuge, till these calamities 
 be overpast." 
 
 ' You will be dropping little gospel texts into our beloved 
 mother's ear. May the joy of the Lord strengthen her in the 
 hour of nature's weakness. . . . Our separation, in presence 
 only, draws us nearer in heart ; and the want of opportunity 
 of speaking to each other will lead us the oftener to speak 
 of each other to Him who heareth prayer. Commending 
 you, with warmest affection, to the unquenchable love and 
 faithfulness of the Friend who loveth at all times, but in 
 adversity becometh a " Brother," — I am, your ever attached 
 brother, Jambs.' 
 
 Another stroke followed soon after, about which he 
 thus writes : — 
 
 'Feb. 16, 1856. 
 
 ' " Our Beloved is come down into His garden to gather 
 lilies." And this morning He has gathered home our 
 beautiful, bounding boy, Alexander. Dear precious lamb ! 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. l73 
 
 he has " come out of great tribulation." There was sore 
 suffering for the last two days. It had its origin in teething, 
 and in some sympathetic affection of the head. Our inmost 
 hearts are bleeding. In this first freshness of our sorrow, 
 we sometimes feel almost as if there were no stepping-stones, 
 on which to pass through these deep waters. Our God lets 
 us feel that we are beyond our depth, just that His own 
 hand may be our only stay. . . . Our darling was one of 
 the very sweetest cords of love let down from heaven to 
 fasten round our hearts, and draw them up Avith him where 
 he is gone. Where can we rest but where Jesus reigns! 
 Every pulsation of the bereaved heart echoes the cry, 
 "How long?" 
 
 ' In spite of all the agony the dear child passed through, 
 his exquisite placidity and sweetness of disposition remain 
 on the countenance. 
 
 ' In the blessed hope of the restoration of the treasure, we 
 intend to lay the beautiful wee body in its narrow bed on 
 Wednesday. . . .' 
 
 What was to Mr. Eobertson another true bereave- 
 ment occurred not long after this, in the interrup- 
 tion, by death, of a friendship that ran its earthly 
 course in a few years of highly-prized fellowship, — 
 a fellowship which had its root in closest spiritual 
 sympathy, and influenced the personal and ministerial 
 life of both. 
 
 Both as to the inmost circle of intimacy, and the 
 Church at large, it was a loss such as Mr. Eobertson 
 mourned with no light grief. Fellow-soldiers, who 
 were truly fighting the battles of the Lord, could ill 
 
174 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 be spared, when all, and more than all, seemed to be 
 needed. 
 
 We refer to the Eev. John Maclaren, who, during 
 a few years' ministry in Glasgow, had been doing a 
 fundamental work of no common kind, under the 
 great Master Builder, and of whose short but 
 powerful and fruitful life an interesting record was 
 written, at the time of his death.^ 
 
 From Mr. Robertson's letters to Mr. Maclaren, we 
 
 extract the following : — 
 
 'Aug. 1853. 
 
 ' . . . There is something surpassingly sweet in the 
 thought that, through wondrous grace, we hope to be to- 
 gether evermore. Let us seek to have more realizing views 
 of heaven every day — that it is near — and that it is ours 
 through Jesus. Oh that our souls were full of Him, — our 
 ministry, our life, our all unreservedly His. I am more 
 and more convinced that we can only speed well as ministers 
 in the exact degree in which we prosper in our own souls, 
 as close walkers with God. 
 
 ' Your present perplexities are much on our hearts. The 
 "Good Spirit" Himself be your guide. May our Father 
 help us to view His hand in the smallest circumstances of 
 every case. You know these lines? I have often felt 
 them very cheering — 
 
 ' "With peaceful mind thy course of duty run, 
 God nothing does, nor suffers to be done, 
 But what thou would'st thyself, if thou could'st see 
 Through all events of things as well as He." ' 
 
 ^ Memoir of the Rev. John Maclaren, by the Rev. Peter Leys, 
 Strathaven, 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 175 
 
 Mr. Maclaren had declined several calls to settled 
 and prosperous churches, in order that he might 
 devote himself to the labour of gathering in a con- 
 gregation from among the poor people of the Cow- 
 caddens in Glasgow, where he began his work in 
 a humble mechanics' hall. Mr. Eobertson wrote to 
 him at this time as follows : — 
 
 '16th Sept. 1853. 
 
 ' . . . I read your decision this morning with deepest 
 interest. I enter into the very joy of your relief at the 
 throne of grace, and give thanks with you, and for you ; and 
 with my very soul, dear brother, I commend you and your 
 work into the tender hands and holy keeping of our gracious 
 Father, who has guided, overruled, appointed all. You go 
 to till the Avilderness for One who never suffered any true 
 labourer to lose in any way. " God speed the plough " of 
 His precious gospel, which shall turn even the wilderness 
 into a "fruitful field." " My word shall prosper." Is not 
 this warrant, sure warrant for hopeful, expecting prayer, 
 without hesitation, mistrust, or misgiving of any sort 1 
 "Be strong, yea, be strong." ... In the fulness of the 
 blessing of the gospel may God send you forth. . . .' 
 
 Writing shortly before Mr. Maclaren's death, he 
 
 says : — 
 
 ' Kewington, 3rd June 1859. 
 ' My heart is ever with you, and cannot cease to com- 
 mend you to " our Father, who hath loved us, and given 
 us everlasting consolation and good hope through grace ; " 
 and what a goodly heritage these define ! From whose 
 heart could it come but our Father's 1 and what a position 
 
176 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 of safety, and joy, and hope is theirs, who know whom 
 they are trusting ! " His work is perfect." His doings 
 in grace are so, and His doings in providence no less so. 
 His way is in the sea ; but His way is also in the sanc- 
 tuary, where the rent veil discloses the blood -sprinkled 
 mercy-seat. Whatever may be in your cup, there is new 
 covenant love at the bottom of it. How reposeful and 
 blissful a state when the soul is brought to this : " Thou 
 shalt guide me." I know not what lies before me. My 
 path may be dark and perplexing ; steep hills may be in it, 
 and slippery descents, but " Tliou Lord shalt guide me.'' 
 I have put my hand in Thine, the very Hand that was 
 nailed to the cross for me, and who shall be able to pluck 
 me out of it ? " Thou shalt guide me," and " afterward " — it 
 may be after some more discoveries of my own nothingness, — 
 no matter — if, '^ afterioard Thou shalt receive me to glory." 
 
 ' I have often remembered the night when you and I first 
 read the case of the man who said : — 
 
 ' ' ' I'm a poor sinner and nothing at all, 
 But Jesus Christ is my all in all." 
 
 ' It came vividly before me the other evening, when a 
 simple-hearted old disciple said to me, "I do not know 
 what is to come out of this illness of mine. But it does not 
 matter ; for Jesus has taken the whole concern into His own 
 hand, and I've given my cordial consent to that — my cordial 
 consent — and His word was never broken yet — never yet ! " 
 
 ' Many are the praying hearts, my beloved friend, that are 
 constantly commending you to the Shepherd of the sheep, 
 whose eye is bent upon you night and day. Blessed Jesus ! 
 we shall see Him soon. The King in His beauty. You 
 will see the thorn marks in His broAv, of which you spoke 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 177 
 
 when you last assisted here. Present troubles and conflicts 
 will be as a shadow that has passed away, and, in the 
 meantime, you will lose the sense of these, in the abundance 
 of His strong consolation. 
 
 'May you and your dear mother and wife be cheered, 
 moment by moment, as by sunshine from the face of God.' 
 
 Mr. Robertson wrote to the late Mr. John Colville, 
 a man of truly ISTathanael-like spirit, who had been 
 taking a brother's place in the sick chamber : — 
 
 'Newington, 10th June 1859. 
 
 '. . . My heart is ever with you, as you watch the ebbing 
 earthly life of one so dear. Over his real life in Jesus 
 death has no power at all. He has nothing to do with 
 death but to triumph over it. You will be realizing heaven 
 as very near, with its peace, its rest, its love, its joy. We 
 are meeting you in spirit at the throne, while committing our 
 beloved brother to the faithful, tender, watchful Shepherd, 
 who Himself comes to earth's dark shore, to carry him across, 
 to carry him home. 
 
 ' Our gracious covenant-God will strengthen and console 
 his dear wife and mother. They will expect the help they 
 need, Avhen natural feelings are working mightily within 
 them, and these are not wrong, for "Jesus wept." . . .' 
 
 ' 16th June 1859. 
 *. . . " It is I, be not afraid." Jesus deemed it sufficient 
 to put all fear to flight, to let them know that He was there. 
 Is not that voice of our Beloved very sweet to you, as He 
 walks with you now on the waters? It is the same voice 
 that cried of old in the ears of Israel, " I, even I, am He." 
 
178 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 We have been bearing on our hearts in the congregation, and 
 in our meetings, our precious friend, who is awaiting the hour 
 of his departure. For the exceeding strength and comfort 
 of God's rich grace granted him, many thanksgivings were 
 offered. The dying day is one of those for which his 
 strength is " accordingly " ensured. His Forerunner will 
 be in sight. He will set his foot only in the warm prints 
 of the feet of Jesus. He will " see Jesus standing on the 
 right hand of God." You cannot too tenderly remember 
 us to him, with a heart full of affection, and the earnest 
 desire that " an entrance may be ministered to him 
 abundantly." . . .' 
 
 *. . . There is an atmosphere of special blessing in the 
 school of trial ; — to use the words of a Christian friend : " It 
 is a finishing school." Jesus was perfect through suffer- 
 ing, and so shall we ! The means may be costly, but they 
 are well worth the pains. 
 
 '. . . That same boundless love which led our blessed Lord 
 to Calvary, leads Him still to carry us, with all our cares, in 
 His bosom. In the openings of our hearts to Him, and the 
 opening of His heart to us, in giving us answers of peace, 
 quieting our anxieties in all the emergencies of life — in that 
 lie some of the highest blessednesses on this side heaven.' 
 
 To the same, when the end came : — • 
 
 '21st June 1859. 
 ' " Now he is comforted." 
 ' " Present with the Lord." 
 ' " With me where I am." 
 
 '"God has wiped away all tears from his eyes." And 
 yet our eyes overflow. I have wept my fill since your 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE, 179 
 
 telegram came, dear brother. And did not He who has 
 taken up to heaven a liuman heart — our compassionate High 
 Priest — become our fellow - mourner, by weeping for the 
 dead ! Oh that He may apply His own balm to the wounds 
 of sorely-bereaved ones. 
 
 * She that is a " widow indeed " will be trusting in God, 
 and finding that to be a new text to her, " Thy Maker is 
 thy husband " — the undying One. And the deeply-smitten 
 mother will be understanding, as she never did before, the 
 heart of Jesus at the gate of 'Nam. We are praying that 
 the smile of the Saviour may be with you all, and the 
 breathing of the Comforter. 
 
 ' Though such precious, precious hopes are withered, the 
 never-failing word remaineth, " Li Me ye shall have peace." 
 With overflowing love and sympathy to the sorrowing circle, 
 ever your attached friend, J. R.' 
 
 Again to the same : — 
 
 'Irvine, 19th July 1859. 
 
 '. . . On our way here, we visited our precious friend's grave ; 
 and close by it, John caught a little bird that had escaped 
 from a cage. It reminded me of Ralph Erskine's lines : — 
 
 ' ' ' Death is to him a sweet repose, 
 The bud is ope'd to show the rose, 
 The cage is broke to let him fly, 
 And build his happy nest on high." 
 
 '. . . But alas for ourselves ! that the fioiver of the grass 
 soonest Avithers. How are the mighty fallen ! ' 
 
 With reference to him along with one or two others 
 in the coterie of friends, Mrs. Maclaren wrote, after 
 Mr. Robertson's death, to a member of his family : — 
 
180 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' How that little circle of Christian brothers loved, and 
 delighted in one another ! I cannot think that the inter- 
 course so cherished on earth is ended for ever ! No ; " We 
 live together with Him," and shall renew it where the Lamb 
 is the centre, 
 
 * I recollect of saying to Mr. Eobertson, that I had never 
 seen that it was best, in any respect, that my dear husband 
 had been taken away, but I knew that it must be so ; when 
 he quickly said, "All, it wouldn't ho, faith to you and me, if 
 we could see" 
 
 ' The beauty of Mr. Eobertson's Christianity made me feel 
 his most ordinary actions and conversation noteworthy, and 
 all that I ever saw or heard of him greatly interested me, 
 and was pondered over ; — but somehow the impressions won't 
 submit to be transcribed. Long before I saw him, I remem- 
 ber hearing Dr. Heugh speak of him with great admiration 
 and love; and all that I heard of his singular piety, and 
 ardour in winning souls, led me to think of him as less 
 human than he really was. But when I met him for the first 
 time, his exquisite human sympathies, elevated and controlled 
 as they were by divme grace, at once struck and won me. 
 
 ' I never saw his adroitness, in saying suitable things to 
 those who would fain have escaped from them, equalled. 
 No matter how difficult the circumstances might be, his 
 genius would instinctively hit on a most unexpected and 
 thoroughly effective mode of administering the needed instruc- 
 tion, or warning, or reproof, not only Avithout giving offence, 
 but securing the gratitude of the object of his dealing. 
 
 'A medical student told me that Mr. Eobertson called 
 upon him at his lodgings, which were up two stairs. There 
 was no opportunity for private conversation, as one or two 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 181 
 
 fellow-students were present, and my impression is that, 
 although the visit was very pleasant, it Avas not considered 
 quite satisfactory by Mr. Kobertson ; he and the lad would 
 both have preferred being alone together. When he took 
 leave, my young friend accompanied him to the door, and 
 kindly offered his arm to assist him down-stairs. The offer 
 was pleasantly and gratefully declined, with the smiling but 
 significant explanation, '^ Facilis descensus'^ — "^verrei" was 
 of course mentally supplied by the lad, who was much struck 
 by the terrible suggestion so unexpectedly conveyed in a spirit 
 of most loving and fatherly warning, and the clever way in 
 which it was done. 
 
 '. . . I have recollections which I shall ever cherish of the 
 heavenly atmosphere in which our dear friend lived, of the 
 spiritual impulses he aroused, and of his wonderful prayers.' 
 
 Another friend furnishes further illustration of the 
 ' adroitness ' spoken of. 
 
 * Meeting a young lady one day, he shook hands, and 
 said, " Do you remember that, when you were a little girl, 
 you strayed, and were lost 1" "0 yes," she replied, " I 
 often hear about that, and how eagerly I was sought for, and 
 what a glad home it was when I was found, and brought 
 back." " WeU, you are lost still, if Christ has not 
 found you," said Mr. Eobertson ; " and oh ! how earnestly 
 He is seeking you, and what a glad home it will be up 
 yonder when you are found ! " The only reply given l)y the 
 young lady was a silent tear. They shook hands and parted. 
 It was a word in season.' 
 
 'A student one day said to him, " I am thinking of giving 
 up, Mr. Robertson. I cannot look after my own soul, and 
 
182 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 how shall I be able to look after the souls of a whole con- 
 gregation 1 " 
 
 ' " Where Avill you go to 1 " immediately asked Mr. 
 
 Kobertson, — ' to Tarshish ? Kemember Jonah." ' 
 
 ' Keturning home late one evening, he entered into con- 
 versation with the policeman, Avho was on duty, and going 
 his round, up Salisbury Eoad, with his lantern in his hand. 
 
 ' " Well, you are watching, and you have your lamp with 
 you," said Mr. Robertson. 
 
 ' "Just so, sir," said the policeman. 
 
 ' " Well," said Mr. Robertson, "I am a watchman too, and 
 I carry a light. I Avatch for souls, and this is my lamp," 
 — taking out his Bible. " You turn your light in by my 
 house and garden, as you pass, to see if all is right. I thank 
 you for that ; and in return for your kindness, allow me 
 to turn my light in upon your heart ; " and Mr. Robertson 
 repeated some texts, and put some plain questions, and left 
 him with this question, which he asked him to think over 
 and over, and try to answer : *' How shall we escape, if we 
 neglect so great salvation ? " ' 
 
 ' Meeting a man one day on the street, he inquired after 
 his health. The man said he was afflicted with heart- 
 disease, and could not sleep at night ; " but," he added, 
 "the doctor can do nothing." "Ah," said Mr. Robertson, 
 "the worst form of heart-disease is sin; yet people go 
 about with the disease, and they do not know it, and 
 they sleep quite soundly. Now it is my business to tell 
 them how matters stand, and to try to disturb their sleep, 
 for I can point them to a Physician who can heal them, 
 and then they can sleep in peace. Have you been to Christ 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 183 
 
 with your sins ? To be forgiven, to be at peace with God, 
 will help you to sleep, and Christ is willing to give you 
 pardon just now," The man was silent, bvit went aAvay 
 impressed.' 
 
 ' When on a visit to Irvine, he was walking along the 
 beach one day, and coming upon some fishermen, who were 
 preparing bait, he entered into conversation with them. 
 He asked them if they "only used shell bait?" They 
 said, " No ; they often tried worms ; when one bait failed, 
 they tried a change," Mr. Robertson asked if, " every 
 time they baited, a hook, they caught a fish 1 " They 
 said, "No; sometimes a fish got the bait, but was not 
 hooked, and they had to try again." " Ah," said Mr. 
 Robertson, " that's the way Satan does ; he often tries a 
 glass of whisky, and if one does not do, he tries a second, 
 and a third. Whisky is his worm, and he catches and 
 ruins many souls with it ; but he tries other bait, — like you, 
 he changes his bait. He is a skilled fisher, and we need to 
 be constantly guarding against his hidden hooks. If we 
 take Christ's bait, the gospel, we will not be so easily 
 tempted to look at Satan's." ' 
 
 About this time, the household of Greenhill wa 
 again darkened by two bereavements, which followed 
 each other in quick succession. The first, in November 
 1859, was the death of Robert, the youngest son, a 
 student of great promise and rare accomplishments, 
 who wore himself out before the time ; the second, 
 a few months later, that of the eldest son Andrew, 
 whose light shone most unobtrusively, yet really. 
 
184 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 over the whole neighbourhood in which his lot was 
 east. It was his to set his life to music, to 
 
 ' " Do noble things, not dream tliem all day long, 
 And thus make life, death, and that vast for ever 
 One grand sweet song. " ' 
 
 Avenuehead, wdiere the latter resided, was about a 
 mile from Greenhill. It was described at the time, 
 by one who has already written in these pages, as 
 * a quaint old house, embowered in thick shrubbery, 
 curtained off from the loud and glaring world by a 
 green veil of lilac and laurel, through which the light 
 passed in subdued and softened.' 
 
 The same writer continues : — 
 
 ' For years lie had been the victim of cramp spasms, which 
 came upon him at intervals. He knew their deadly power. 
 On the 29th February 1860, the end came. He was sitting 
 in the spring twilight, waiting for tea, Avhen he was seized 
 more violently than he had ever been. He felt that death 
 was on him, and did not object, though he had always done 
 so before, to sending to Greenhill for his friends. 
 
 ' The wonted reliefs were of no avail ; and ere the hurried 
 summons had brought loving hands to stay his head, he Avas 
 unconscious of aught on earth, and was calmly passing away 
 to rest, from his lonely pain to the house of his Heavenly 
 Father.' 
 
 ' Oh, how dark,' James wrote, ' God can make our sky, 
 and how desolate our path ! " All Thy waves and billows 
 are gone over me." But they are God's waves, not rolling 
 at random — no, every drop of them measured, and impelled 
 by God's appointment. In no other circumstances could 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 185 
 
 this removal have taken place, so as to gain the wise and 
 holy ends which God had in view. 
 
 ' Over these wrecks of earthly hope, over the dust of the 
 dear departed, our tear-filled eyes are reading, " What I do 
 ye know not now." Yet we know enough of the character 
 of our redeeming God to lay a firm foundation for cordial 
 acquiescence. 
 
 'Our beloved old father is a model of intelligent, calm, 
 trusting composure. We glorify God in him. 
 
 ' Much did dear Andrew do for the good of others in this 
 neighbourhood. . . . The sorrow of the people all around, 
 to whom he had been such a blessing, is the most heart- 
 rending imaginable. 
 
 ' Instead of being able to speak, as was their wont when 
 we met by the way, they stand still and weep, almost like 
 children. . . . To-morrow is the sad funeral day. But Jesus 
 comes with the mourners.' 
 
 We return from these personal trials to the subject 
 of pastoral work, regarding which Mr. Young says : — 
 
 ' I remember very vividly my first evening at Grange 
 Cottage, in the beginning of 1861. Two or three of us new- 
 comers were invited to "an egg," after the prayer-meeting. 
 Mr. Robertson was alone with us at supper, and read aloud 
 to us, with great gusto. Dr. John Brown's letter to Dr. Cairns 
 on his father's life, adding his own reminiscences of Dr. 
 Brown, and of others, whose names occurred in the letter. 
 
 'This was a frequent mode Avith Mr. Robertson of interesting 
 young men, at the little gatherings which he had in his house. 
 If there were not at the table some returned missionary, or 
 other person who could give us special information, or discu^ss 
 
186 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 a subject so that we might listen to its treatment, he was 
 almost sure to introduce some book he had been reading, and 
 make it the means of indirect teaching and suggestion. 
 
 'Newington was not at that time what is sometimes 
 called " a young men's church," and there were no societies 
 for young men, nor a Fellowship Association, until some 
 years afterwards ; but Mr. Kobertson attracted and kept 
 young men who were interested in Church work, and especi- 
 ally those who were preparing for ministerial or missionary 
 service. His personal influence, and the social intercourse 
 to which he introduced such, Avere a power for good to many 
 of us, who might otherwise have fallen under the common 
 temptation of "wandering," or been attracted to churches 
 where hearing was not likely to be followed by personal 
 dealing and engagement in Christian work. He did not 
 himself conduct the young men's class at this time ; but he 
 held an occasional meeting, perhaps two in the year, for 
 young men, on a Sabbath evening. For such occasions, he was 
 wont to engage one of us to write a paper, on a subject of 
 practical or evidential interest, and then follow up the read- 
 ing of it by some remarks of his own, discursive, rather than 
 studied, iDut full of apt illustration and practical suggestion. 
 
 'After we started a Literary Society and Fellowship 
 Association, he took great interest in hearing of our pro- 
 ceedings, and was very particular about getting strangers 
 early introduced to us, and made at home in our meetings. 
 
 ' His influence over us was rather in the way of elevation 
 than of direction. He lifted us into a higher region of 
 thought, and a purer atmosphere, rather than met our difii- 
 culties by reasoning, or satisfied our doubts by arguments. 
 
 ' From my intercourse with fellow-students at the time I 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 187 
 
 refer to, I would be inclined to say, that if he did not do 
 much to set young men free from the perplexities so incident 
 to mere intellectual discussion of spiritual mysteries and 
 problems, he did a great deal to save some of us from falling 
 into doubt or difficulty, by the intensity and earnestness of 
 his own faith, and the enthusiasm with which he sought to 
 engage us in useful work, and encouraged us in it. His 
 religious conversation with us was singularly free from 
 austerity and unctuousness. It was easy, free, and inter- 
 esting, with an adroit readiness in sudden personal attack, 
 and an attractive — sometimes fanciful — way of using texts, 
 that struck you by its strangeness, and yet made you think . 
 of the words more than you otherwise would have done.' 
 
 'A student once told me,' writes the Kev. J. D. Taylor, 
 ' that in conversation Mr. Kobertson said to him : — " Suppose 
 a poor heathen lying dying on the ground who has never 
 heard the gospel. He has only five minutes to live ; what 
 would you say to him 1 " And he took out his Avatch to 
 count the passing minutes.' 
 
 Mr. Taylor also makes the very just remark that, 
 ' while he abhorred idle talking and jesting, his cheery 
 laugh would ring out heartily as some fact was touched 
 on its humorous side.' 
 
 Mr. Eobertson himself was wont to tell such little 
 incidents as the following with great gusto : — 
 
 Being present at a social gathering in Edinburgh for aged 
 people, at the close he conducted a party of frail old * bodies ' 
 to the cab he had in waiting. When all were seated, he 
 asked, 'Are you all ready to start?' 'A' richt, sir,' replied 
 one, 'an' this is jist like the Millennium.' 
 
188 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 A friend of Mr. Robertson's had a very cross old gardener. 
 Meeting this man on a fine spring morning, Mr, Eobertson 
 said, 'Well, Thomas, this is a lovely day.' Thomas replied, 
 ' I'm girnin' wi' the teethache, and wuss I was in Beelzebub's 
 boosum.' 
 
 'Softly, Thomas, it's Abraham's bosom.' 
 
 ' I'm no heedin' which o' them it is. ' 
 
 Among the congregational labours alluded to as 
 carried on in the mission district, there was the 
 mothers' meeting, a meeting which may be described 
 as a kind of Evangelical Alliance, for the workers in 
 it were drawn from different sections of the Christian 
 Church. One of these writes : — 
 
 ' We so vividly recall his racy reading of Power's tract, 
 "Croaking Kate and Chirping Jane," on occasion of the 
 re-opening of this meeting for the season. His beaming face 
 was radiant with fun as he rehearsed the keen humour of the 
 story, saying that he had come across it in his holiday time, 
 and had treasured it up for the mothers. 
 
 ' In connection with this mothers' meeting there was a 
 very flourishing penny-bank, almost, we think, the first one 
 in Edinburgh. Sometimes, in the gloamin' of the AAdnter 
 afternoons, a ray of sunshine entered the bare haU as Mr. 
 Eobertson's face appeared in the doorway. He always had 
 a word for " the bankers," as we styled the depositors, asking 
 them where they had read of a penny's being given equally 
 to each worker at the end of the day's work ; encouraging, 
 it might be, a little one, by telling of the widow's mite ; or 
 posing bigger children about Christ's rendering the tribute- 
 money, and its being taken from the mouth of a fish ; thus 
 
CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. 189 
 
 imprinting the word of God indelibly on the memory of all. 
 To those in charge there was the fitting word as to rendering 
 in their perfect account at the Great Day. Very few could 
 forget even a passing word from his lips.' 
 
 Mention ought here also to be made of other and 
 larger evening gatherings in Grange Cottage than those 
 already referred to, when friends were brought together 
 for the special purpose of holding conversation on some 
 topic affecting Christian life, or walk, or work, the 
 subject being made known to them beforehand. These 
 were not exactly what is known by the modern term 
 ' Bible-reading,' though after tea Mr. Eobertson, with 
 pocket-Bible in hand (he always carried a pocket- 
 Bible), would open and guide the conversation with 
 a few telling hints from his Great Authority. There 
 were friends of outstanding piety and ability often 
 present to aid him in contributing to the profit and 
 enjoyment of the whole ; and among the company there 
 were also some who could contribute nothinsj — the 
 young and the learning — who were there to listen, and 
 who still look back on these seasons with delight as 
 among their most gladsome privileges. 
 
 The religious conversation, while bright and cheer- 
 ful, was not unduly prolonged ; and opportunity was 
 given afterwards for friendly introductions and easy 
 talk. Such gatherings became great favourites — speci- 
 ally if the pastor was present — and were repeated with 
 enjoyment in the houses of some of the elders also. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 fflrran^e ll0atr. 
 
 1862-1877. 
 
 Full of charm, because of ' the ministration of the 
 Spirit,' as was the plain, unadorned building in Duncan 
 Street to the church that had gathered there, and 
 sacred as it was to many a memory, because of the 
 new vision there granted, and the glimpses gained of 
 ' the glory that excelleth,' it had become ' too narrow 
 by reason of the inhabitants,' and had to be given up 
 as the place for worship. 
 
 Meanwhile both pastor and people had been called 
 to pass through a time of trial in connection with their 
 mission district in 1861. As a result of this and of 
 the feeling evoked by it, a number of large gifts for 
 Duncan Street Church were sent in unsolicited to Mr. 
 Robertson by members of a sister denomination, who 
 were aware of the value of his work, and were in 
 full sympathy with it. 
 
 This willing help, combined with an increasing mem- 
 bership and other things, seemed to indicate God's 
 voice in providence, ' Enlarge the place of thy tent.' 
 
GRANGE ROAD. 191 
 
 With the nucleus of funds referred to, swelled 
 by the contributions of the people themselves, the 
 new building in Grange Eoad was more than half 
 provided for, ere the foundation-stone was laid on 
 the 23rd of July 1862. It was opened on 15th 
 November 1863 ; and, about four years after entering 
 it, when they met to celebrate the completion of 
 twenty-five years of their beloved pastor's ministry, 
 the remaining provision had been ' most heartily ' 
 made, as ' a grateful thankoffering, by the united and 
 attached flock, for the many great and valued blessings 
 they enjoyed.' 
 
 One of them told, on this occasion, how ' a neigh- 
 bouring minister, who had frequent cause to pass Mr. 
 Eobertson's church, on his way home at eventide, 
 said to a friend, " What do these people get to meet 
 about so often ? I never pass that place at night, 
 but it is lighted up, as if something were going 
 on." He was not far wrong. There was always 
 something going on. If he had stepped in, he might 
 have been politely introduced to a mission committee 
 in one room, to a meeting of Christian instruction 
 visitors in a second, and, possibly, to a committee of 
 Sabbath-school teachers in a third, and he would have 
 found them all engaged in devising schemes for securing 
 greater efficiency in their several departments, or in 
 seeking, in prayer, the blessing of God upon labour 
 past, and the pouring out of His Spirit upon them, to 
 fit them for future work.' 
 
192 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 And it was owned that there was ' one ceaseless 
 toiler, the example of whose unwearied personal 
 labours stimulated others to activity, who, under a 
 more passive leader, might have remained comparat- 
 ively idle.' 
 
 Eegarding this change, Mr. Young says : — 
 
 ' For some years after it, while there was increase and 
 expansion in various ways, Mr. Robertson seemed to feel the 
 breaking up of the homely family character of congregational 
 life, necessarily following a large increase of membership. 
 The congregation became less homogeneous ; the older people 
 looking back on the former temple, and the newer members 
 eager for a new order of things in the new sphere. 
 
 ' I remember well Mr. Robertson's last sermon in Duncan 
 Street on, " And thou shalt remember all the way the Lord 
 thy God led thee." The impression left on my mind that 
 day was, that he was leaving the old place with regret, tinged 
 with fear that he might not feel so mucli at home in the new 
 building as he had done in Duncan Street.' 
 
 Mr. Robertson never felt that his congregation was 
 right till it had, not only its Home Mission agents, but 
 its own missionary in the Foreign field also. 
 
 In 1866, by special arrangement with the Foreign 
 Mission Board, the station of Todgurh, India, was 
 adopted as its own. The Eev. William Robb and Mrs. 
 Eobb, who were already working there, were both well 
 known to, and esteemed by, the Newington people. 
 This choice was appreciated by the labourers, who con- 
 
GRANGE EOAD. 193 
 
 sidered it a high honour, and no ordinary privilege ; 
 and the assurance that Christian friends, known and 
 unknown to them, were taking a deep interest, not 
 only in themselves, but in the work to which they 
 had consecrated their lives, tended greatly to stimulate 
 and strengthen. From this time forward the com- 
 munication with them formed an important and inter- 
 esting item in the congregational history, and in the 
 annual report. 
 
 The Newington people had, at various times, many 
 missionaries and missionary families in their midst ; 
 and thus it was not without a personal interest, that the 
 children of the church and the mission district met 
 weekly, when the need arose, to sew for such an object, 
 for instance, as the orphan children cast on the mis- 
 sionaries' care in Calabar. 
 
 The shades of evening were, by this time, creeping 
 gently over the ' beloved old father,' whose quiet life 
 at Greenhill had been such a power for good in the 
 home circle, and far beyond it. 
 
 ' So unobtrusive in his manners, so sweet and gentle in 
 his temper, so warm and genial in his affection, and so 
 attentive to all the courtesies of life, that it is hard to con- 
 ceive how the conduct of any one could afford a more lovely 
 illustration of the apostle's exhortation, ." Love as brethren ; 
 be courteous." Yet it must be added tliat although his 
 manners were so simple, and natural, and meek, there was a 
 majesty about him — the majesty both of greatness and of 
 
 N 
 
194 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 goodness. Love drew you to him irresistibly; but dignity 
 repelled all unbecoming and vulgar familiarity. Even when 
 he was prostrated by age and disease, one, on approaching 
 his bed, could not fail to be awed by the look of majesty 
 that lay on the calm and pleasant countenance of the dying 
 patriarch. 
 
 '. . . It was a pleasant thing to visit his dying chamber. 
 There was all light, without the slightest tinge of gloom. 
 There was no rapture, no ecstasy, for his temperament was 
 calm and serene. Yet there was the most sweet submission 
 to the Divine Avill, and the full assurance of hope. He 
 received his visitors with all his former courtesy, made his 
 usual kindly inquiries after their own and their friends' 
 welfare, and spoke of his own weakness and approaching 
 death with all the composure of one who feels assured that, 
 in leaving this world, he is only going home.' ^ 
 
 To a friend Mr. Kobertson writes : — 
 
 'I have just returned from Greenhill, where all is peace.' 
 
 Unable to be much with him, the son's loving inter- 
 course is thus kept up : — 
 
 ' 6 Salisbury Eoad, Edinburgh, 
 '28th May 1867. 
 
 ' My dear Father, — It makes me thankful to learn, by 
 J.'s letter this morning, that you continue much as when I 
 saw you last. I had hoped to get a run up this week again, 
 but am prevented. . . . 
 
 'Our God is always beforehand with us, preventmg us 
 with the blessmgs of His goodness. Your hope is a strong 
 
 ^ From sermou preached after his death by Rev. Ji Steedman. 
 
GRANGE ROAD. 195 
 
 anchor, which must hold firmly, till the calmer, brighter 
 future comes — an anchor fixed in the very truth, and 
 nature, and glory of God — immoveable as the foundation of 
 His eternal throne; for in His earnest desire to command 
 our trust, He condescends to strengthen the force of His 
 promise by adding to it the solemn confirmation of His 
 oath. Should not a solitary promise have been enough for 
 us — from the lips of Him who cannot lie ? But like the 
 stars of heaven for multitude are the assurances of the 
 unsearchable riches of His grace. It seems as if He could 
 not be content without our entire trust — "and they that 
 know Thy name shall put their trust in Thee." 
 
 ' It is delightful to think of the very narratives of the 
 Old Testament and of the New as promises. God's fidelity 
 to Abraham — His watchful care of Joseph — His mercy to 
 David — as all reasons and arguments for being persuaded 
 that " He is faithful that promised." Yet how apt we are 
 to feel, or fear, as if He were in the habit of speaking 
 beyond His meaning. "We forget that " the Word of the 
 Lord is tried," refined, purified, like gold with no alloy," and 
 that He is " able to do exceeding abundantly above all that 
 we can ask or think." He who " knoweth our frame," who 
 " was tried like as Ave are," He to whom angels ministered, 
 after His forty days' fast in the wilderness, remembers what 
 our infirmities are, and will send us help in time of need. 
 If He seems to wait long, may we not believe that He 
 answers us often by this very waiting — that He is working 
 for us silently and surely, though we may not see clearly the 
 effects of His love — that He is sending us help from His 
 sanctuary, if He is keeping our trust in Him from failing. 
 
 ' During some past sleepless nights I have been thinking 
 
196 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 much of you, and of the difference between your lointer 
 ones and your suvbmer ones. They will not be tedious and 
 dreary now, when the breath of nature is more "balmy." 
 Oh that our faith may every day be getting stronger, since 
 every day is bringing us nearer to sight ! How far beyond 
 all the visions that faith ever beheld will be the grand 
 realities, when we pass into the midst of them. Blessed 
 gospel that enables you to say, "All this will soon be mine. 
 All this, through grace, is mine already, and I am only 
 waiting here, till He, Avho gives me all, shall call me home 
 to His inheritance." 
 
 'We all unite in fervent love to you. Pray much for 
 us all. — Your ever affectionate, James.' 
 
 The precious life, that continued to the end to be 
 as it had been all through — only more elevated — 
 was gently breathed out on the 24th December 1867 
 — ' in the arms of love — the love of God, and the 
 love of children.' 
 
 Mr. Eobertson, in his letter to his father, alludes 
 to the illegibility of his pencilling; and in another 
 note to a friend, while ' watching (at Greenhill) the 
 flickering lamj) of life,' he says : ' You see my poor 
 hand is very unhandy.' 
 
 During the rest of his life, owing to paralysis of 
 the fingers that hold the pen, writing became not 
 only irksome, but extremely painful if long continued. 
 This was specially the case during his weekly pulpit 
 preparation — making the sermons much more costly 
 

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 FACSIMILE OF MS 
 
GRANGE ROAD. 197 
 
 to him ; whilst much of his correspondence, as well 
 as other writing, had to be carried on with the help 
 of one of his daughters as amanuensis. Thus a 
 penmanship, that had been a model of neatness and 
 beauty at first (as the adjoining facsimile shows), 
 became often difficult to decipher, even to those who 
 were familiar with it. Not only had he this difficulty 
 to contend with, but throughout his ministry, owing 
 to his heart-trouble, he generally found it necessary 
 to write in a kneeling posture for greater ease. 
 
 It will be easily understood that, as Mr. Eoberfcson's 
 great aim in his ministry — as to man — was salvation 
 — ' full salvation ' — his dealings with those who sought 
 to make a public profession of their being partakers 
 of this salvation would be as earnest, and true, and 
 painstaking as with those who were simply seeking the 
 salvation itself. Great was his delight to discover, in 
 those who applied for church membership, a clear and 
 firm grasp of truth, and evident subjection to its 
 influence ; while, at the same time, if any came with 
 this object in view whom he thought not sufficiently 
 enlightened, he would advise delay. The interval 
 would be taken up in further teaching, which would 
 sometimes issue in most satisfactory results, and then 
 not without the warm gratitude of any thus dealt 
 with. 
 
 In testing applicants, such questions as the follow- 
 ing were often given, the answers to which were 
 expected in writing ; and when any of these papers 
 
198 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 were particularly good, he could not conceal his joy 
 over the writers : — 
 
 Ques. 1. How may a sinner obtain peace with God ? 
 on what grounds ? 
 
 2. In what respect does God's plan of saving 
 sinners differ from the plans you used to take 
 for obtaining salvation ? 
 
 3. Do you approve of Go(Vs ^3/a?i, and rest on the 
 finished work of Jesus, as your only hope ? Have 
 you accepted the free gift of pardon through 
 Christ .? 
 
 4. What are your motives for wisliing to come to 
 the table of the Lord ? 
 
 5. What are your thoughts of sin as you now 
 view it ? 
 
 6. What think you of Christ ? 
 
 These were calculated to, and did, draw out not 
 only the theoretical, but not a little of the practical 
 and experimental. 
 
 It was not only the more matured whom he tried 
 to draw out, and on whose minds he sought to impress 
 truth by the use of pen or pencil ; he was frequently, 
 in church or school, setting the children to search the 
 Scriptures on some point or other, and getting them to 
 send him the written results of their search, during 
 the following week days. Many such papers were 
 being constantly sent in. It might be a ' child's 
 Bible alphabet ' of texts and poetry ; or a Bible tree, 
 with the main divisions or books of the Bible for 
 
GRANGE ROAD. 199 
 
 stems, and chapters or verses for leaves, etc. ; or a 
 clock, having each of the twelve divisions filled in 
 with a Scripture passage, on the same subject — varied 
 in length according to the hour ; and many other 
 various devices. 
 
 In particular cases he would ask them individually 
 to write him letters regarding their spiritual state 
 which it would not have been so easy to utter in 
 words. This was done quite apart from any immediate 
 view to church-membership, and bore good fruit — it 
 might be in making plain even to themselves their 
 present position, or in helping to develop the early 
 buddings of Christian character. 
 
 In the course of his ordinary preaching, whatever 
 would occur as a simple and useful exercise for the 
 young would be thrown out as a hint — a remark 
 aside to them, to let them feel they were never for- 
 gotten, and keep them on the outlook — with, 'And 
 the children will tell me so and so this week,' or 
 ' when next we meet ' — or some such form of request. 
 
 Still less were they forgotten on communion Sabbaths, 
 when the familiar question, ' Are the children in the 
 gallery asking, like the young Israelites of old, " What 
 mean ye by this service ? " ' was made the foundation 
 of a few simple and tender words on the Christian 
 feast and its significance. 
 
 Mr. Young says : — 
 
 ' When I joined the church imder Mr. Robertson, his con- 
 
200 JAMES ROBERTSOK 
 
 versations with me, in that connection, were brief, but pointed, 
 well calculated to bring out whether or not there had been 
 personal decision. He gave me the questions of which you 
 have a copy, and I wrote a letter in answer, detailing at 
 once my spiritual experience, and my aims for the future 
 of Christian profession and service. 
 
 * In many cases, his conversation, even with those who 
 brought "lines," was very searching; and, in all cases, 
 his dealing must have been awakening to thought, and 
 strengthening for Christian purpose. 
 
 ' " Yes, sir, and it was hot work," was the answer once 
 given me by a new member, when I asked if he had had a 
 talk with Mr. Kobertson, on lodging his certificate. 
 
 * Mr. Robertson made it a special feature of his work to 
 seek to bring the young to early decision, and profession of 
 Christ's name. Not only did he afford opportunities of con- 
 versation to those who were thinking seriously, but he made 
 opportunities — invited to his house — wrote notes — and in 
 various ways sought to excite interest, or to ripen it where 
 it had been awakened, and I am persuaded that many real 
 conversions resulted from Mr. Robertson's anxiety in this 
 direction.' 
 
 Mr. Robertson thus writes to one of his sisters : — 
 
 'October 1858. 
 
 '. . . I do hope the Lord is showering down blessings on 
 your class. Two young girls, applicants for admission to 
 the Lord's table from Miss M'L.'s class, give very cheering 
 evidence of having been ivon in the Sabbath school. 
 
 ' We have all eternity for talking of His wondrous works, 
 
GRANGE ROAD. 201 
 
 but we have only a little inch of time for inviting poor 
 sinners into the ark. . . . 
 
 '■ Much affection, and praying that you may be satisfied 
 with favour and filled with the blessing of the Lord. I can 
 ask no more ! You can hold no more ! ' 
 
 When absent from home he wrote to a Sabbath- 
 school teacher, some members of whose class had 
 written to him in compliance with his parting 
 request : — 
 
 ' I owe you many thanks for your very kind attention to 
 my wishes in your class. Will you thank these girls for me ? 
 and say how much I feel interested in their communica- 
 tions. . . . My heart's desire and prayer is that your un- 
 wearied instruction and care may be vital conductors by 
 which they hold correspondence with heaven. And the 
 effect upon yourself is sure to be the same that the tasting 
 of the honey had on Jonathan. 
 
 ' The Lord bless, keep, and shine upon you, — causing you 
 to feel much of what the Scripture calls " abounding in 
 hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost." 
 
 ' I have been passing through some luxuriant scenes of 
 enchanting interest, and I feel their invigorating charm. 
 How much of the first garden still mantles the ground ! 
 Yet "we, according to His promise, look for new heavens 
 and a new earth, Avherein dwelleth righteousness." ' 
 
 He wrote such ' Notes ' as the following to members 
 of the class : — 
 
 'My dear Friend, — I have ever looked on you with 
 intense interest, and long to know your progress on your 
 
202 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 heavenly way. Have you the Spirit of Christ, without 
 which we are none of His? How important is this self- 
 sciTitiny ! If we deceive ourselves in the affairs of the soul, 
 the delusion may be fatal. I long for all the dear young 
 people of my class to be patterns of holiness and devoted- 
 ness, separated from the world, both in its pleasures and 
 spirit. Are you in possession of present pardon and recon- 
 ciliation to God 1 Can you call Him your Father, your own 
 God? Has He made you His child? There is no middle 
 state before God. Oh, bring not a divided heart to such a 
 Friend and Saviour.' 
 
 ' Are you aiming at exalted piety, eminent holiness, 
 extensive usefulness ? Holiness is the joy of heaven. 
 Follow after holiness, and this will give higher joy to the 
 angels around the throne than even to him whose anxieties, 
 hopes, and fears have dictated these hasty lines. 
 
 ' Is Christ your hope, and is every motive to holiness and 
 obedience derived from this : " We love Him because He 
 first loved us " ? ' 
 
 ' Have you experienced those two distinct fruits of the 
 Saviour's work : justification through His blood, as the 
 foundation of your hope ; and the Spirit's work in you, as 
 the evidence that you are building on that one foundation ? 
 
 ' I feel most deeply anxious about you, and have uttered 
 many an earnest prayer and desire for your speedy decision 
 for God.' 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Kein EitQ antr WSiitizi ^er&ice. 
 
 1872-1879. 
 
 In course of time it was thought desirable that Mr. 
 Eobertson's congregational labours should be shared 
 by another, and, accordingly, the Rev. John Young, 
 M.A., whose student days had been spent under Mr. 
 Robertson's ministry, was ordained as his colleague on 
 the 2nd October 1872, and became doubly related 
 when, on the 29th of the same month, he was married 
 to Mary, eldest daughter of his senior colleague. 
 
 Shortly before these events, Mr. Robertson wrote 
 to a ministerial friend : — 
 
 'Aug. 1872. 
 
 ' "VVliat a privilege that you hear to-night the voice of that 
 grand old African lion ! ^ 
 
 ' Ten thousand blessings on him ! 
 
 ' It would be a wonderful blessing to us at Newington 
 
 to get though it were but ten minutes of him, especially 
 
 at this time, when I feel so anxious to keep my people up 
 
 to their annual £300 for India. They have all along given 
 
 1 Moffat. 
 203 
 
204 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 more a year for missions than for all congregational purposes, 
 
 and I would not like it to be otherwise. 
 
 'How joyfully I would see him in our pulpit, re-opening 
 
 our church on the forenoon of Sabbath ! . . . 
 ' . . . That would be a Me-decoration.^ 
 ' My great love for the dear old hero makes me bold.' 
 
 From the indications given in the earlier part of 
 this volume of Mr. Kobertson's views of revival and 
 evangelistic work, when it was by no means so 
 generally approved as it is now, it may well be 
 supposed that it was with no ordinary cordiality and 
 readiness to co-operate, that he hailed such work as 
 Mr. Moody's. It went far to realize his heart's desire, 
 in the wise, clear, simple statement of gospel truth ; 
 in common-sense modes of dealing ; and in most 
 skilful, opportune, and apt application of the ' Balm 
 of Gilead ' to the wounds of sin. 
 
 No wonder he threw himself into it with all his 
 heart ; and in much both of sowing and reaping he 
 was privileged to share during those highly-prized 
 seasons. 
 
 In this connection there was much less that jarred 
 on his finer sensibilities than in a great deal of the 
 work carried on under the name of ' Eevival ' and 
 ' Evangelistic ; ' hence his satisfaction in going along 
 with it. 
 
 He was, however, on other occasions, often involved 
 in a great deal of which he could not approve, as to 
 ^ The church had just been ' re-decorated. ' 
 
NEW TIES AND WIDER SERVICE. 205 
 
 modes of working and statements of truth ; but it 
 has been well said in reference to these, that Mr. 
 Eobertson's influence was always corrective. He 
 could gather up the various elements, and, with his 
 native courtesy, throw them into his own mould of 
 balanced truth and judicious dealing. 
 
 During an evangelistic mission carried on in one 
 of the cities, a friend, who was present at one meeting, 
 tells that there had been a weekly record, in some 
 periodical, of the number of supposed conversions. 
 At this meeting, over which Mr. Robertson was 
 presiding, some ardent friend had proposed that 
 those conversing with the anxious should see to 
 furnishing the exact number of those professing 
 to have received enlightenment, for insertion in this 
 paper. 
 
 Mr. Eobertson then rose and slowly repeated (for 
 singing) the words — 
 
 'When God the people writes He'll count,' 
 
 emphasizing the two last words ; and, turning to the 
 gentleman who made the proposal, he added in his 
 kindly way : ' I think, my friend, we may safely leave 
 that to Him ! ' 
 
 Often has he been seen to writhe under statements 
 which he could neither correct nor approve ; and 
 grieving over the misrepresentation of so sacred a 
 cause, he would quietly sigh out, in leaving such 
 meetings : 'Oh, one would need a great deal of 
 
206 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 love for the work, and faith in it, to be mixed up 
 with such things as these.' 
 
 But as one of God's ' watchmen,' it was his duty to 
 watch, and regulate, or guide, as far as he could, 
 counteracting error, supplying truth ; and if a move- 
 ment could be used for good, to use it, however his 
 credit might be affected. That was secondary. 
 
 Not that he did not care for his own good name. 
 He was keenly sensitive on this point, but not only, nor, 
 we believe, chiefly for his own sake, but for the sake 
 of the message he bore — for the service he represented. 
 
 Some of his parting words in public to Mr. Moody 
 at the close of one of the latter's visits to Edinburgh 
 were these : — 
 
 ' I am meeting from day to day with okler Christians who 
 wish they were young again — who wish they had been 
 children at such a Christ-finding time as this. This very 
 morning a father tokl me with deep emotion, how his young 
 people had on recent evenings been coming home from the 
 meetings saying there is beauty in Jesus, and Avondering 
 that all the world didn't see it too, and that tliey themselves 
 had not seen it sooner. . . .' 
 
 ' All this wonderful animation, and glow, and expansion 
 of heart we have had here to-day, and on former days, is 
 nothing to come of it but just to enjoy it, to devour it? 
 Can we suffer to consume away in mere useless sparkle a 
 blaze so precious, an element of mind which, while it burns, 
 might be turned to some noble, practical purpose 1 Has not 
 every one of the prayers here offered been a pledge that we 
 will go forth on a Saviour's errand in quest of lost souls 
 
NEW TIES AND WIDER SERVICE. 207 
 
 that we will be the same in action as we have been in 
 devotion 1 Will not the young among us, who say they are 
 converted, show that they are converted — the flower of the 
 army of the Captain of Salvation, having graven on their 
 hearts their life motto — 
 
 * ' ' Hold the fort, for I am coming. 
 By Thy grace we will. " ' 
 
 ' That visit of j\Ir. Moody's ' (says Mr. Young) ' was a land- 
 mark in Mr. Robertson's life. It led to a widening out of 
 his ministry, full of interest to him. Revival work had 
 been familiar to him from his student days, and he was 
 always in fullest sympathy with special evangelistic effort, 
 within and outside of church organization. But he Avas 
 exceedingly anxious about the fulness and depth of Scrip- 
 tural teaching in connection Avith revival meetings, and 
 very watchful against the exuberances of " zeal Avithout 
 knoAvledge." Before Mr. Moody had been a Aveek at Avork, 
 Mr. Robertson Avas perfectly satisfied, and thrcAv himself 
 Avith his Avhole heart into the meetings, seldom missing one, 
 although there Avere generally three in a day. 
 
 ' That Avinter, I believe, he Avas greatly blessed to many, 
 and his labours were owned of God to the ingathering of 
 not a little of the abundant fruit of that time of blessing. 
 During 1874 he visited many places, either Avitli Mr. Moody, 
 or folloAving up his Avork, and his services Avere largely 
 draAvn upon for special Aveeks of meetings or Conference 
 services.' 
 
 At that time Mr. Young had been Mr. Robertson's 
 colleague for a year, and was able to relieve him, to a 
 large extent, from congregational work during the 
 
208 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 week. And it was not less with an eye to the 
 ultimate benefit of his own people than of others, that 
 Mr. Eobertson entered so heartily into those outside 
 movements. He hoped to return to them greatly 
 refreshed, and to bring a blessing with him. 
 A friend says : — 
 
 ' He was " instant in season." On Mr. Moody's first visit 
 to this country, when he was holding meetings in the North, 
 Mr. Eobertson went to join him ; and on his way thither in 
 the train he spoke very earnestly to his fellow-traveUers 
 about spiritual things. They had not been accustomed to 
 this, and seemed surprised, but soon became interested, and 
 listened attentively. By and by it began to dawn on the 
 mind of a Highlander, who had been listening in silent 
 reserve, that he could account for this innovation. Folding 
 his arms and drawing himself up with the air of one 
 who was conscious of his superior discernment, he said to 
 Mr. Eobertson : " Oh ! you'll be Moody and Sankey, are 
 you 1 " 
 
 ' Coming from Glasgow to Edinburgh, Mr. Eobertson spoke 
 so earnestly to the person sitting opposite him in the train, 
 that when they got to Falkirk the man was deeply moved ; 
 and as he left the train there, lie shook hands with Mr. 
 Eobertson, and with tears in his eyes thanked him for his 
 faithfulness, saying : " Never in all my life have I been 
 spoken to in such a plain and kindly way about my soul. 
 I will never forget you, sir." 
 
 ' A Bible-woman was walking along Princes Street about 
 nine o'clock one night, when Mr. Eobertson, who was 
 speaking to a young man, turned round and shook hands 
 
NEW TIES AND WIDER SERVICE. 209 
 
 witli lier, and then he went hurriedly away. The young 
 man asked the Bible-woman who the gentleman was. She 
 told him ; upon which he remarked, " That man is in 
 earnest. He is the first person that ever spoke to me 
 about eternal things." ' 
 
 Further illustration of this is furnished by a member 
 of his church, who was on one occasion passing along 
 Causeway side, when a pleasant -looking woman — a 
 stranger — came forward, and asked her if she would 
 kindly show her the church in which Mr. Eobertson 
 preached. This was at once willingly done, when the 
 woman said : ' I was anxious to see the place where 
 he preached, for long ago he was tutor in a family 
 where I was, and I used to do any little kindness to 
 him I could — in looking after his clothes, and other 
 little things ; but he did far more for me — he led me 
 to Christ.' An eloquent testimony to the skill of the 
 student of those days as a winner of souls. 
 
 We are indebted to Mr. James Balfour, W.S., Edin- 
 burgh, for the following recollections of his associa- 
 tion with Mr. Eobertson, especially in evangelistic 
 work : — 
 
 ' . . . We did not belong to the same denomination, and 
 were not thrown together by our ecclesiastical proclivities, 
 but met first probably about 1859 or 1860, in the Monday 
 noon meetings in Queen Street Hall, when there was a time 
 of considerable revival in this country, as well as in America 
 and Ireland. Our acquaintance soon became friendship. 
 The more I knew him, the more I admired him, and used 
 
 
 
210 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 to delight in the warmth of his spirituality, his tenderness 
 and unction. 
 
 ' It was, however, during Messrs. Moody and Sankey's 
 first visit to Edinburgh, in the winter of 1873-74, that I 
 saw most of him. His short five-minutes addresses at the 
 meetings were often very precious, having about them a 
 great dash of genius, combined with uncommon fervour. 
 But his prayers were usually more striking still — more so, I 
 think, than those of any one whom I ever knew. He 
 seemed always to be very near the throne himself, and he 
 interceded with the holy familiarity of one who was often 
 there, and who had come in by the blood-sprinkled way. He 
 was present at that never-to-be-forgotten watch meeting on 
 the night of the 31st of December 1873, at which Mr. Moody 
 presided, and he took frequent part in it. There has 
 seldom been a meeting at which the power of the Holy 
 Spirit was more felt. It lasted for four hours, and they 
 seemed to be so short. During the last ten minutes the 
 vast audience that crowded the Free Assembly Hall knelt 
 down and engaged in silent prayer. Amid its solemn still- 
 ness the clocks struck twelve, when the Jubilee Singers, who 
 were present, in a soft whisper sang — 
 
 ' " There are angels hovering round 
 To carry the tidings home." 
 
 And they did carry the tidings home that night of the 
 new birth of Maggie Lindsay, whose touching death on the 
 railway a few days after created such a sensation. It was 
 in a meeting such as that that Mr. Kobertson was in his 
 element, and he helped much to tone and elevate it. 
 
 'It was about this time that Mr. Robertson suggested 
 
NEW TIES AND WIDER SERVICE. 211 
 
 the clocks which for many years afterwards were famous 
 among children.' 
 
 Whether or not the idea originated with him we 
 cannot say, but we understand his first use of it was 
 in visiting ' a boy who had been in long distress. 
 Being told of weary, sleepless nights,' he threw out 
 the hint that he might accompany the hours of the 
 clock with Scripture passages. At one, he might 
 think of a text of one word ; at two, of two words, 
 and so on. In a few days the boy, of his own 
 accord, sent to Mr. Eobertson the face of a clock, which 
 he had drawn out, with the passages inserted at their 
 appropriate hours. This led to the suggestion that 
 other children might do the same, copying any style of 
 clock they might prefer. One special subject was to 
 be pursued in the case of each clock, for example — 
 
 One o'clock, ' Faith.' 
 Two „ ' Precious Faith.' 
 Three „ ' Lord, I believe.' 
 Four „ ' Have Faith in God ; ' 
 
 and so on for all the hours on the clock. 
 
 Mr. Balfour adds : — 
 
 ' This gave the children a pleasing exercise of ingenuity 
 in devising the clock, and of taste in drawing it, and it also 
 sent them to their Bibles to search for texts. Several 
 thousand clocks were sent to him, and some of them were 
 charming. 
 
 ' Mr. Robertson frequently came to the Conferences at 
 Perth, and enjoyed them much. I remember on one occa- 
 
21 '2 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 sion his standing near me on the platform when spiritual 
 emotion was very strong in the meeting, and gently pressing 
 my hand he said : " Either this is heaven or it is very 
 near it." At another Conference he presided at the com- 
 munion of the Lord's Supper, and gave such an address ! — 
 An English Christian of some eminence said to me after- 
 wards, he could compare it to nothing but a string of pearls.' 
 
 Leaving Mr. Balfour's later reminiscences to a later 
 stage, we return to Mr. Young's account : — 
 
 ' There is one phrase I constantly associate with Mr. 
 Eohertson : "The free offer of the gospel." That was the 
 characteristic of his ministry; and I have never met any 
 one who could put the way of acceptance in such winsome 
 persuasiveness, and in such manifold variety of form and 
 illustration. Li nearly every sermon he had some passage 
 exhibiting the simple gospel plan ; and there were some 
 modes of putting it of such frequent recurrence that they 
 became very familiar to all who were acquainted with his 
 preaching. 
 
 ' One, in the form of a dialogue between law and grace, 
 or righteousness and mercy, he used to give quite dramatic- 
 ally ; and another, in which the conscience soliloquized on 
 its determination not to be content with getting into God's 
 blessed presence by any back way, or on any plea short of 
 a full, straightforward acquittal and welcome, was very 
 striking, even when frequently heard. He was very jealous 
 of any preaching which was not clear and explicit on that 
 point ; but doctrinal accuracy in a preacher was not enough 
 for him ; there must be the spiritual earnestness of the 
 messenger, conscious of the importance of his message. 
 
NEW TIES AND WIDER SERVICE. 213 
 
 ' To me a very striking feature in Mr. Robertson's ministry- 
 was the extent of church organization which he set agoing, 
 and helped to keep agoing, in light of the fact that he had 
 not naturally what men often call the business gift. For 
 details of organization and church business, in the ordinary 
 sense, he had no turn. His physical Aveakness made him 
 timid in. proposing schemes which might lead to discussion, 
 and, to some extent, unfitted him for launching, and carrying 
 through their initial difficulties, new enterprises. He had 
 a constitutional aversion to " new fangledness," and had no 
 love for change of methods, in starting societies, and multiply- 
 ing branches of organization. And yet Newington Avas 
 well organized, its work was constantly branching out along 
 new lines ; and not a few schemes of effort, exciting opposi- 
 tion, or at least serious discussion, were launched and made 
 successful. 
 
 ' If Mr. Robertson, as he often laughingly confessed, was 
 not a business man, and did not feel so comfortable in a 
 committee meeting as elsewhere, he had the faculty of 
 discerning character, and using the business gifts and organiz- 
 ing faculties of others ; and the power of impressing the 
 desirability of some new thing's being done on some one, 
 who was able to plan the work, plead for it, and carry it to 
 a successful issue. This was one great secret of his success 
 in congregational enterprise ; and it exjilains the extent to 
 which different branches of the church work Avere associated 
 largely with single men. I ahvays look upon his success 
 in organizing a church as a great encouragement to ministers 
 Avho think they have not the business gift, and as calculated 
 to enforce the truth that a minister's Avork is often best done 
 by inspiring and leading other people to Avork. 
 
214 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' His outside work took chiefly these two special forms, as 
 preacher to Children, and as evangelist and Conference- worker 
 in his last days. 
 
 ' His almost entire abstinence from Presbytery and Synod 
 work, and the small share he took in what may be described 
 as platform work, gave to some people the impression that 
 he took little interest in ecclesiastical and public questions. 
 But this I believe to be a mistake. His physical weakness, 
 his fear of excitement, and his constitutional dislike of 
 business details, unfitted him for taking a prominent part 
 in debate ; and the characteristic neatness of his style, and 
 more meditative mode of thinking and speaking, scarcely 
 found a congenial sphere on the public meeting platform, 
 No man, however, was more efficient as a chairman of some 
 great children's gathering, or as a speaker on behalf of our 
 benevolent and missionary societies. 
 
 'The Temperance cause was very dear to him. His views 
 were pronounced upon every aspect of this question, and he 
 seldom let slip an opportunity of speaking a decisive word 
 in favour of total abstinence. He had no liking for what 
 used to be known as "short pledges," or any other half- 
 hearted way of facing what he felt to be a tremendous evil. 
 He was " total," as he used to say, and generally expressed 
 himself as having little faith in measures not on the line of 
 total abstinence. 
 
 ' For a man so mild and gentle in his natural temperament, 
 Mr. Kobertson's speaking in public and private on our 
 drinking usages, and the need of total abstinence, both for 
 safety and example, was exceedingly strong and decided. 
 Few questions stirred him more deeply. Gospel temperance 
 was an oft-recurring theme in the Newington pulpit, and 
 
NEW TIES AND WIDER SERVICE. 215 
 
 it gave him great delight when, on the occasion of my 
 ordination, it was heartily agreed by the session that the 
 ordination dinner should be conducted on total abstinence 
 principles — a much less common thing fourteen years ago 
 than it happily is now, 
 
 ' Mr. Robertson was a conscientious Voluntary. Ho held 
 the principle firmly, and had faith in it, as supplying the 
 only solution of ecclesiastical difficulties, and the surest 
 means of support for true spiritual work. It was his con- 
 viction of the evil practical results of the State Church 
 system, as hindering the work of home evangelization, and 
 lowering the tone and standard of spiritual life, that bulked 
 most largely in his conversation and public utterances on 
 this subject. I was often surprised by the intensity of 
 feeling and keenness of interest he displayed in regard to 
 the matter, and the warmth with which he supported the 
 movement for the emancipation of the State Churches. A 
 few weeks after my ordination, he asked me to preach a 
 special sermon, making clear my position in relation to 
 Voluntaryism ; " but," he said, " leave to me my favourite 
 text on that question : ' Loose thyself from the bands of 
 thy neck, captive daughter of Zion.' " He was a lover of 
 good men in whatever Church they were found ; but his 
 hatred of evil principles was none the less because they 
 had taken captive good men whom he loved. He was 
 jealous for the honour of the Holy Spirit, which he felt to 
 be compromised by dependence on the arm of flesh, and he 
 prized higlily his position as minister of a Church, whose 
 history proved to demonstration the power of Christian love, 
 begotten of the Spirit, to maintain and extend Christ's cause 
 in the world.' 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Jamflg Bcrcabements. 
 1874-1876. 
 
 The time came for the family nest to be broken up. 
 Mrs. Robertson liad been subject occasionally to 
 severe bronchial illnesses for several years. During 
 one of them Mr. Robertson wrote : — 
 
 'The Lord has graciously granted us a little reviving. 
 It is only " for a season, if need be," that the heaviness will 
 last. . . . How precarious all things beneath the skies ! 
 How entire our dependence on God Himself for bliss ! How 
 delightful the prospect of our home on high, where no evil 
 will be felt or feared any more for ever ! 
 
 ' May we all be kept looking for the mercy of the Lord 
 Jesus unto eternal life. . . .' 
 
 In the autumn of 1874, the mother herself wrote 
 to her daughter in Glasgow : — 
 
 ' The winter lies before me like a dark cloud, and I fear 
 to enter into the cloud, but may it be to me as it was to 
 the disciples, to see more of the beauty and glory of 
 Jesus.' 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 217 
 
 Towards the end of the year, while anxious hearts 
 were looking and longing for the breaking up of an 
 intense and prolonged frost, he thus expressed his 
 fears : — 
 
 ' 29th December. 
 
 'I cannot longer delay letting you know what distress 
 we are in on my beloved B.'s account. This weather has 
 brought on what the doctor speaks of as the worst bronchial 
 illness she has ever had. . . . Pray for us, that, amid 
 all the distraction of feeling, there may be rest in the 
 calm ranges of that high word : " As thy day so shall thy 
 strength be." 
 
 'Mary is not at all strong, also much affected by the 
 severity of the season. 
 
 'Shall any of us ever regret the hottest flame of the 
 furnace, if it burn away our bonds, and make more clear 
 and beautiful the presence of the Son of God 1 — Your afflicted 
 and affectionate brother, J. R.' 
 
 The furnace heat was not abated when he wrote, 
 two days later, to a niece : — 
 
 '31st December 1874. 
 
 ' My heart is so rent, I cannot write more than the 
 mournful message : 
 
 ' My dearly beloved B. — mine no more. The Lord has 
 taken her Home. 
 
 ' A sore attack of her bronchitis set in Avith this sad 
 weather last week. She seemed to rally for a Avhile, and 
 we were all hopeful — the doctor too; but this morning 
 
218 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 exhaustion suddenly supervened, and at half-past ten she 
 exchanged earth for heaven. 
 
 ' What a precious treasure we have lost ! 
 ' " Even so, Father ! " 
 
 ' You and your dear husband wiU help us by your prayers 
 to lay this heavy burden down at the feet of Jesus. — Your 
 deeply afflicted but ever affectionate uncle, J. K.' 
 
 It cannot soon be forgotten how, that last night of 
 the year, with a heart at the breaking, the father led 
 the bereaved circle, at the time of evening prayer, in 
 the trustful vindication of his Father's love : ' Thou 
 hast done us no wrong.' Nor how, that sad day, 
 when he returned to his darkened home, from which 
 she had just been carried, the first words he uttered 
 were : ' The Lord prepared the gourd, and the Lord 
 prepared the worm.' 
 
 No one could depend more on his home ties— 
 on the perfect sympathy of loving companionship ; 
 and to be bereft of this was, for him, to be terribly 
 left out in the cold. 
 
 Literally — physically, his heart was severely tried 
 under any grief. His changed looks under this one 
 showed it. 
 
 The friends among whom he spent the first weeks 
 of his widowhood knew what sad and wakeful and 
 suffering nights he had. In the morning he would 
 pour forth the richest truth that had been cheering 
 him during his long waking hours, leaving no room 
 to doubt that he was drinking at the Fountain of 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 219 
 
 Consolation so eagerly, and freshly, and fully, that 
 it was not possible to do otherwise than stand aside 
 and listen, with the feelinir that no comfort could be 
 stronger than that which he was drawing for himself 
 — passages of Scripture invested with new meaning 
 and new refreshment, in the new circumstances. 
 
 Thus he wrote soon after : ' When Hagar's bottle is 
 spent, God's own fountain comes more fully into view. 
 May He make us willing to be trained to a higher life ! ' 
 
 Next to the ' Fount of everliving Love,' nothing 
 comforted him more than giving vent to what a friend 
 quoted calls his ' quenchless sympathy for others,' 
 and he was open as ever to outward appeals to it. 
 He did not allow himself to be shut up in a selfish, 
 fruitless grief. To parents bereft of their boy the 
 day after Mrs. Eobertson died, he wrote : — 
 
 ' My dear afflicted Friends, — I wish I could be with you 
 to mingle my tears with yours. Is it not best to think of 
 the joy of our beloved ones, all whose tears have been wiped 
 away, and of the joy of Jesus in preparing a place for 
 them, and in welcoming them home for ever ? 
 
 ' He liath said, I will never leave thee. — Yours in tenderest 
 sympathy, J. R.' 
 
 Miss A. B. Church writes, and the words are appro- 
 priate to such a time as this : — 
 
 ' He was a true Barnabas — a son of consolation, and had 
 learned, as few do, how to show as well as feel sympathy ; 
 and one could not help feeling that the comforts, so tenderly 
 
220 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 and skilfully administered, were just those wherewith he 
 had been himself comforted of God. 
 
 * We will never forget what he was to us in a protracted 
 season of deep trial, when one very dear to us was dying 
 in a distant land, far removed from friends and kindred. 
 Often, in the lonely evening hours, the door would open, 
 and his kind face appear. Then, sitting down amongst us, 
 he would listen to all we had to tell, and to all our anxious 
 thoughts and fears. 
 
 ' Then, quietly turning to " Jesus in the midst," he would 
 lay the whole case out before Him, whose strong arm and 
 loving heart were as near to the sufferer, at the Antipodes 
 as they were to us. 
 
 ' This informal turning from the friends seen to the 
 .great unseen but ever-present Friend, was a characteristic 
 of ]\Ir. Eobertson, which all who knew him cannot fail to 
 recognise. It was very real to him, the Lord's hearkening 
 and hearing, Avdien those who feared Him and thought upon 
 His name were talking one to another. 
 
 ' There was always something very restful and refreshing 
 in his little visits. Never unduly protracted, they were, at 
 the same time, never hurried. He seemed always to have 
 leisure to let us unburden our hearts — a delicate process, to 
 which any sign of haste or impatience effectually puts a stop. 
 
 ' He knew well how to adapt himself to our aged mother's 
 varying moods — sometimes being tender and sympathetic, 
 and again playful and cheery, by his humorous sallies putting 
 to flight the depression often attending constant suffering ; 
 then sweetly leading away her thoughts above and beyond 
 herself to Jesus and His love, he Avould in the end leave her 
 as bright and liappy as himself.' 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 221 
 
 As to his own loss, he was, as he said, ' trying to 
 forget, yet vowing never to forget.' In conversation 
 with Mr. Moody about it, he applied to Mrs. Eobertson 
 words already familiar : * She " lived so near Heaven 
 that, when she died, she had not far to go." ' 
 
 To a daughter, after Mrs. Robertson's death : — 
 
 'January 1875. 
 
 ' My very dear M , — He will not suffer us to be tried 
 
 above what we are able to bear. Had we ever any con- 
 ception of what a loving Friend and Father He is, till 
 these surges of sorrow flung us on His sympathy ! Surely 
 the precious tie, now sundered on earth, has knit us all to 
 the family in heaven ! What would become of us if we did 
 not pillow our hearts on the Eternal Heart ! ' 
 
 His eldest daughter, Mrs. Young's health, to which 
 he refers in a note quoted, had been for some time 
 giving grave cause for concern, and was now prolonging 
 the tension that was trying him. 
 
 The following period of trial and bereavement will 
 be best recorded in his own words : — 
 
 'Glasgow, 29th January 1875. 
 'The Heavenly Refiner makes use of such kindness as 
 yours in tempering the heat. As with Elijah on Carmel, 
 the answer is first by fire, and then by rain. First the fiery 
 trial, then the descent of the Spirit's grace, as rain upon 
 the mown grass. 1 have been sleeping somewhat better 
 since coming liere. Not sure whether I may venture to the 
 home pulpit next Sabbath. . . . What most perplexes and 
 
222 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 dismays us here will enhance our happiness to all eternity. 
 ... It is a blessed hope. Without these hedges of thorns 
 on the right hand and the left, would we not have missed 
 the way to heaven 1 
 
 ' . . . The Lord liveth, blessed be our Rock — 
 ' As God, able to save to the uttermost, 
 ' As man, to sympathize to the uttermost. 
 ' "I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me." 
 ' . . . Best wishes for the sick man.' ^ 
 
 ' Edinburgh, 18th February. 
 ' Every day seems rather to augment the blank here. 
 ' It is ever present, ever pressing ; 
 ' But she is singing while we sigh. 
 ' I am hastening out to the prayer-meeting, to try to speak 
 of our bitter waters sweetened. 
 
 ' By and by the Marahs will be all past, and there will 
 be fulness of joy, without mixture — without interruption — 
 without end. 
 
 'Am keej)ing as busy as the broken wing allows. The 
 dear lassies here as kind as can be. . . .' 
 
 'Edinburgh, August 1875. 
 
 ' I feel thankful that you are relieved from anxiety in 
 
 regard to . I wish I could say the same as to our dear 
 
 M.'s case. . . . Oh, to view all difficulties in the light of 
 the promises, leaving out all ifs, and buts, and whys. . . . 
 
 ' . . . No Gethsemane without its strengthening angel — 
 else my strength and hope had perished. 
 
 ^ A poor man working from home, who was thought dying, and 
 whom he had been called to visit dining the early days of his 
 bereavement. 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 223 
 
 ' During these two days past the surges of anxiety have 
 been swelling in regard to our darling Mary. She had 
 another startling return of illness suddenly on Sabbath 
 forenoon, during church time, when she was sitting quietly 
 by the fireside. No proximate cause . . . the weakness 
 that has followed proportionate. The rallying power much 
 less. We were just getting arrangements into shape for 
 Bournemouth. Now on the front of the A^eil is written, 
 " Stand stiU and see." 
 
 ' You know the heart-sickness, 
 ' You will help us to bear. 
 
 ' We must " tarry the Lord's leisure " ere anything can be 
 done. . . .' 
 
 The invalid was able to go to Bournemouth for 
 the winter, where her father visited her the following 
 spring, after fulfilling some evangelistic engagements 
 in London. 
 
 We now resume Mr. Balfour's story : — 
 
 ' It was my privilege frequently to go with Mr. Eobert- 
 son to evangelistic meetings in different parts of the country, 
 and then I used to enjoy and be refreshed by his sanctified 
 conversation. Once I was with him in London when a 
 series of evangelistic meetings were being held for about 
 a fortnight. Wherever he Avent he was welcomed, but his 
 addresses to children, which were probably unrivalled, were 
 most appreciated. I remember on one occasion, when stand- 
 ing in a church packed by children, he got their attention at 
 the very first by beginning Avith a dumb show. He repeated 
 the action twice over without saying a word. He crossed 
 
224 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 his arms, pointed to himself and then pointed upwards. 
 After doing so he said that a deaf and dumb girl had recently 
 come into his study and made that motion, by which she 
 meant to say that Christ was crucified on the cross — for her 
 — and that He had afterwards gone up to heaven. It added 
 to the interest of the story when a deaf and dumb girl in the 
 church screamed. She understood the sign although she 
 heard nothing that was said, but cried with that inarticulate 
 cry with which the dumb give expression to their feelings 
 when excited.' 
 
 On Mr. Eobertson's return to Edinburgh he found 
 
 the elder of his two daughters there, Eliza, prostrate 
 
 with fever. 
 
 He writes to a sister abroad : — 
 
 'March 1876. 
 
 ' Your tender sympathy and William's were truly valued, 
 and sorely needed, Saturday and yesterday have been sad 
 days to us. On Saturday morning, sickness, with subsequent 
 deep sinking and heavy moanings, for many hours — then 
 followed shiverings, a very bad symptom. The methods 
 used for checking these seem to have been blest, for they 
 have not returned to-day, but there are some tokens of 
 jaundice having set in. . . . The beloved sufferer is sweetly 
 unmurmuring and calm. I have felt tossed from billow to 
 billow as on a stormy sea. 
 
 ' But our best Friend has never done me an unkind thing 
 all my days, and this is not one. 
 
 ' Help me to take loving views of Him who directs the 
 storm. You will both pray without ceasing for me, and 
 write as often as you can.' 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 225 
 
 To another, later: — 
 
 '. . . The doctor has just left. No cheer. Another of 
 these sad shivering fits came on, and since it passed oflf higher 
 
 fever has followed, and sharp, quick respiration. has 
 
 the impression the crisis has not yet come. Little strength 
 left in my darling to meet it. 
 
 ' I understand better the Syrophenician's cry, " Lord, help 
 ?we," by helping 7ier; and the pleading of Jairus for his child. 
 
 ' She has told me she is leaning on His love. 
 
 ' Pray that He may be our arm every hour, to which 
 clinging Ave shall not faint. — Your much distressed, ... 
 
 ' J. E.' 
 
 The desolate dreariness of this time to one so sensit- 
 ively anxious in his concern both for Eliza and for 
 those who were watching, it would be hard to express. 
 Much he needed — absolutely needed — his Divine 
 Refuge, and it was well he had it. 
 
 After alternating hopes and fears, and amid all 
 gospel comfort, one more helpful life — and a bright 
 one — was taken from his household — the one that 
 had been to him for a right hand, and had also chiefly 
 taken the place and duties of her departed mother. 
 
 Mr. Robertson's regular Newington ministry was 
 thus broken in upon by closely following years of 
 grief, during great part of which he was necessarily 
 much absent from home, and specially from the time 
 of this daughter's death. 
 
 To Jessie, the only daughter left at home, her father 
 
226 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 clung with intense tenderness. The youngest of six, 
 she had been a good deal the companion of both 
 parents, whilst the elder ones were occupied at school, 
 and had artlessly and unconsciously taken in much 
 of the goodness and elevation of both, and was ' not 
 of the world,' without being aware of it. 
 
 Whenever the last sad scenes were over, Mr. 
 Eobertson took her from home for change. Her health, 
 however, had been severely shaken, and as feverish 
 symptoms began to manifest themselves, she was taken 
 to her sister's home in Glasgow, where, for many weeks, 
 her troubled father watched the life on which not only 
 his natural affections, but also his home and work in 
 Edinburgh, so much depended. 
 
 '13th April 1876. 
 
 ' Our hopes have been driven back. Let the Lord have 
 His own way with us, for He is love. Our darling Jessie 
 has not improved. . . . My whole life seems blighted. 
 
 ' " Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." 
 
 ' You will not cease to help us to put the heavy case into 
 the Hands that were nailed to the cross for us, and to leave 
 it there. With a heart full of anxiety and anguish, — Your 
 ever affectionate ... J. R.' 
 
 Whilst he was passing through these sorrows, and 
 resident chiefly in Glasgow, at the house of his son- 
 in-law, Mr. Joseph C. Eobertson, which was much 
 more than in name the home of his later days, many 
 opportunities arose for such incidental work as his 
 strength could cope with. The number of these 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 227 
 
 opportunities gradually increased ; and the variety of 
 scene and circumstance, along with the uniformly 
 hearty welcome he received, did not a little to cheer 
 him under his trials. 
 
 ' I^ot that he lost interest by any means in his own 
 people ' (adds Mr. Young), ' but a wider sphere meantime 
 drew him out, by its many opportunities for specially 
 interesting work ; and he obeyed the call for service which 
 few could render so well as he, and which suited his state 
 of health and temperament at the time better than the 
 systematic, and sometimes perhaps routine work inseparable 
 from close attention to one congregation, and certainly 
 opened up a means of relief to his burdened heart which 
 he might not have had in the wonted services at home.' 
 
 Meanwhile his eldest daughter, Mrs. Young, whose 
 declining health had been affected for the worse by 
 the loss of her sister, had come from Bournemouth to 
 Norwood, London, in the warmer weather of April ; 
 the kind sisterly friend who had been with her all 
 winter, still accompanying her. For two days she 
 seemed to revive a little, but the end had come. 
 
 We quote the sacred and tender story written at 
 the time by the friend (Mrs. C.) in whose house she 
 died : — 
 
 ' 27th April 187G. 
 
 '. . . Darling Mary was here when the Lord came for 
 her. . . . 
 
 ' My sister and I called for them with the carriage at 1 2 
 o'clock, and Mary seemed truly happy to come with us. 
 
228 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 She enjoyed the drive so much, was full of admiration of 
 the glorious day, the blossoming trees, and the pleasant air. 
 
 ' The brightest flowers were gathered to make the table 
 pretty for the sweet fragile guest, and she admired them 
 much.' 
 
 After luncheon, while passing from one room to another, 
 . 'the sad stroke came so overpoweringly, that before 
 the doctor could come, the gentle spirit had passed away ; 
 while dear Miss Y., our good Mary Anne, and I, supported 
 her, sitting on the floor, near the parlour door — we dared 
 not move her for doing harm. She was very soon un- 
 conscious, and long we sat, unwilling to believe it was over, 
 and yet feeling that she was not there; until the doctor 
 came, and, with M. A., carried her up to the room . . . 
 which is now our best room. 
 
 ' She looked like the purest marble, with an expression 
 of tender graciousness and sweet content most consoling to 
 look on ; but oh ! to see the lately animated, beautiful face 
 pale in death, while the flowers were bright on the table, 
 and the half-finished fruit on her plate ! 
 
 ' The text of the day was : "He led them forth by the 
 right way, that they might go to a city of habitation." 
 
 ' M. A. laid soft white blossoms in the dear hands, as they 
 lay folded on her breast. . . .' 
 
 To this friend Mr. Eobertson wrote : — ■ 
 
 '28th April 1876. 
 
 'My dear Sister, — "The Lord deal very kindly with you, 
 as ye have dealt with the dead, and with me." 
 
 ' It has been a sevenfold heated furnace — heated, not by 
 
FAMILY BEEEAVEMENTS. 229 
 
 the " wrath of the King," but by His love. The thought 
 on which I rest in connection with all the circumstances is, 
 that what Omniscient Love had planned, Omniscient Love 
 brought to i^ass, in the way, and place, and time which was 
 best for our profit, and for His praise. 
 
 ' Oakpark is now more than ever endeared to us all. Our 
 hearts cannot cease to turn to it as a hallowed home. That 
 you should have ministered so tenderly to the last moments 
 of our darling Mary, the good Lord bless you for it. I 
 am often on the brink of being " swallowed up " by these 
 "sorrows upon sorrows." I can only hang in utter help- 
 lessness upon Himself — no other righteousness — no other 
 strength. You wall continue to help me, by your prayers, 
 to say, " Even so. Father " ? ' 
 
 A mournful company returned to Edinburgh, where 
 they laid their treasure in the Grange Cemetery, 
 beside those already 'gathered.' 
 
 To friends abroad, on the funeral day, Mr. Eobertson 
 wrote : — 
 
 'Glasgow, 28th April 1876. 
 
 ' You Avill be getting about this time the sad announcement 
 which good Mr. M. wrote for me. 
 
 ' . . . " Earth is a desert drear ! " 
 
 ' Our desolation deep ! Christ's consolation deeper ! 
 
 ' . . . Oh, precious treasure, . . He gave thee, He took 
 thee, and He will restore thee ! 
 
 ' 3 o'clock. This is about the hour when our cave of 
 Machpelah will be reopening, to receive all that was mortal 
 of that dear, fine form. . . . 
 
230 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' The doctor interdicted my attempting to go through. I 
 have been in bed most part for some days. 
 
 ' The effect of all this on dear Jessie has been more pro- 
 strating — especially at first ; now she is calm and trustful. 
 Her inestimable life has been trembling in the balance. 
 We trust the Lord is having mercy — not on her only, but 
 on us also, lest we should have sorrow upon sorroAv. . . . 
 
 ' "Deep in unfathomable mines 
 Of never- failing skill, 
 He treasures up His bright designs, 
 And works His sovereign will." 
 
 ' As our treasures accumulate in heaven, our affections are 
 more closely drawn thither. What a heaven it is ! The 
 many mansions — the welcome home — the Father's smile — 
 the presence of Jesus — the bright river of the Spirit's grace 
 — the companionship of the angels and of the redeemed — 
 the perfect service, and the perfect rest ! ' 
 
 To another friend : — 
 
 ' 6th May 1876. 
 
 '. . . "Mary — Kabboni — " 
 
 ' " As soon as ' the other Mary ' heard that " — " the Master 
 is come, and calleth for thee " — " she arose quickly and came 
 unto Him." 
 
 ' Wasn't it at the very time when his soul was so " cast 
 down Avithin him," that he called God his "exceeding 
 
 joy" . . .1 
 
 ' I would have written day by day, had I known well 
 Avhat to say about our darling Jessie ; but no sooner are our 
 hopes lifted up, than they are cast down again. And this 
 is the case to-day. The temperature higher than for some 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 231 
 
 time. We thought there had been a crossing of the bar, 
 but it looks otherwise at present. . . . 
 
 'Assure dear of my true sympathizing love under 
 
 his infirmities. With all the fu.lness of sympathy treasured 
 up for us in Jesus by the way, and with the bright prospect 
 before us of a joyful reunion for ever, in glory, at the end, 
 have we not enough to change the spirit of heaviness into 
 the garment of praise ? 
 
 ' My heart blesses you for going on the 28th. 
 ' " I will be a God to you." 
 ' " God is love." 
 ' That is, I will be to you love, nothing but love. Doesn't 
 it throw a glowing tint over all His dealings ? 
 
 ' " Though the fig-tree shall not blossom . . . 
 Yet will I rejoice in the Lord." . . .' 
 
 A season of increasing hope was allowed as summer 
 drew on. The invalid rallied, and visits designed to 
 secure gradual change were made to Bothwell, and 
 Pitlochry, and Braemar, while arrangements were being 
 made to spend the winter abroad. Mr. Eobertson was 
 a good deal with her, both on her account and his own. 
 
 From Salisbury Koad (10th July) he wrote to a 
 niece of the necessity of being at home on two success- 
 ive Sabbaths, adding : — 
 
 ' I will be glad between times to take a run to you if 
 possible. For these rooms that used to ring with the music 
 of such happy voices — so silent now — it touches — -oh, so 
 deeply ! — the fountain of tears. But the Hand that has taken 
 our treasures is the same Hand that opens our eyes to see 
 
232 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 the infinite blessedness of a sanctified sorrow. What links 
 we have to the heavenly home, Avhere we hope to be gathered 
 ere long — unbroken households. 
 
 * Mrs. W. sjDent yesterday with us (in church and here), 
 and many . . . memories were revived. B. was with her — 
 a choice son of a choice mother. . . . 
 
 ' . . . Our anxieties and sorrows are not out of God's plan. 
 They are necessary parts of it. " He led them forth by the 
 right way." . . . 
 
 ' The Lord often suffers vis to be driven into a corner, that 
 we may know experimentally how necessary He is to us. 
 But His heart of mercy can never be unkind. . . . 
 
 ' . . . You will understand how we are pressed. "In the 
 world, tribulation; in Me, peace." . . . 
 
 'Wliat though our way be hedged on every side with 
 thorns if it keep us in the way to glory. . . .' 
 
 With reference to Mr. M'Dowall, then under severe 
 paralysis, who seemed to be just on the margin of the 
 river, though he was not yet to be called to cross it : — 
 
 'Edinburgh, July 1876. 
 
 ' How your heart would have melted, had you heard at our 
 
 prayer-meeting last night such tenderness of intercession for 
 
 you all. Even from the lips of such as did not know him 
 
 Well ; but he is greatly loved by my people, ... I trust the 
 
 excitement he seemed under, when I had to tear myself away, 
 
 left no bad effect, and that his heart continues the gushing 
 
 fountain of many glad, bright thoughts. Will these verses help? 
 
 ' " In the multitude (the conflict) 
 Of my thoughts within me, 
 Thy comforts delight my soul." 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 233 
 
 " My times are in Thy hand." 
 
 " We trust not in ourselves, 
 But in God, who raiseth the dead." 
 
 " It is the Lord, whose mighty skill 
 Can, from our sorrows, raise 
 Matter eternity to fill 
 With ever-loving praise." 
 
 ' " Heaviness in the heart of a man maketh it stoop ; but a 
 good Avord (the good word of God in the gospel) maketh it 
 glad." 
 
 ' " The glorious gospel of the blessed God," viz. " the 
 glad news about the glory of the good God." 
 
 ' " Thy statutes have been my songs in the house of my 
 pilgrimage." 
 
 ' " I have waited for Thy salvation, Lord." 
 
 ' Will you ask him what word he has to send me to cheer 
 me in my loneliness here ? You will assure him of my un- 
 ceasing affectionate remembrance of him. . . .' 
 
 This is a small indication of an almost daily minis- 
 tration, that went on for several weeks, during his 
 own heavy anxieties, by a sick-bed at which, for the 
 most part, he could not be personally present, and 
 at which his constant remembrance and scriptural 
 suggestions were no small cheer, both to the sufferer 
 and the anxious attendants. 
 
 With unexpected revival of strength — 
 
 ' Why should it be thought a thing incredible with you 
 that God should raise the dead 1 
 
 ' I will feed my flock, and I will cause them to lie doivn, 
 saith the Lord.' 
 
234 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 To the sufferer himself : — ■ 
 
 ' Braemar, 17th August 1876. 
 
 ' jNIay I venture on a line or two to yourself now, when I 
 am so glad and grateful to know that you are so much 
 revived 1 The ansAver to prayer for you, " through the thanks- 
 giving of many," now " redounds to the glory of God." 
 Haven't you been learning a new mystery of Christ, that 
 His promise is to he believed in spite of all adverse 
 appearances ? 
 
 ' At His coming again, if not sooner, these knots shall be 
 all untied, these riddles all explained, and these clouds all 
 cleared away. We shall see the good of apparent evil, and 
 the life that lay in the bosom of death. 
 
 ' I have been labouring to turn away my eyes from the 
 waves to the Kock, while trying to sketch a sermon on Heb. 
 X. 19, 20: " Having boldness to enter into the holiest by 
 the blood of Jesus — and having an High Priest over the 
 house of God." 
 
 ' These two things embolden us in going to God amid the 
 full blaze of His holiness, — The Open Door, and The Friend 
 to welcome us Avhen we go in. 
 
 ' 1st. The open door — " by the blood of Jesus " — by the 
 outpoured Life — on which the Father looks, and righteously 
 says to all who are pointing to the same, " Live ; " and then, 
 2nd, The Friend to welcome us within the veil — Jesus 
 Himself — the ever-living Priest, leading us in by His Spirit, 
 and presenting Himself for us — our all-glorious Substitute 
 and Intercessor, keeping our place for us in heaven till we 
 get there. Are not these sure grounds of confidence abund- 
 antly enough for us when we leave the body, and pass, as 
 
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 235 
 
 naked spirits, into the open — the immediate — the propitious 
 presence of the Holy One 1 
 
 ' Can there be anything now, on God's side, against any 
 sinner entering in by this Avay 1 Is it not as free to us the 
 first time as the thousandth, and the thousandth time as the 
 first? 
 
 ' Oh, how immensely does our estimate of Jesus fall short 
 of His preciousness ! It must be so for ever, since His 
 preciousness is infinite. 
 
 ' Shall we not be thankful for our broken hearts, since 
 they are in the hands of so skilful and so tender an Uj)- 
 binder 1 ' 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ' dout(s after 5Ela{n.' 
 
 1876-1877. 
 
 Akrangements were now made, by which Mr. Eobert- 
 son obtained leave of absence from Newington for the 
 winter, in order to accompany his daughter Jessie to San 
 Eemo. He was cheered by the hope that her health 
 might be benefited by a stay in that sunny region ; and 
 he gladly undertook the congenial work of ministering 
 to the invalids resorting thither, and conducting the 
 services of the station maintained there by the United 
 Presbyterian Church for their benefit. 
 
 The journey south was taken in October — not 
 without much concern, because the restoration of her 
 on whose account chiefly he was going had been so 
 very partial. 
 
 To the friend in London in whose house he stayed 
 on the way he writes : — 
 
 'Paris, 19th October 1876. 
 
 ' Dear kind Mrs. C, — Much you are in my thoughts and 
 in my heart. The memory of your goodness follows us 
 continually. 
 
'clouds after rain.' 237 
 
 ' May your tabernacle ever abide in peace, under " the 
 goodwill of Him who dwelt in the bush." The journey has 
 been accomplished without any apparent harm, though our 
 darling child has been considerably exhausted. There was 
 bright sunshine all around us by the way, and there is 
 always bright sunshine for the heart in nearness to the 
 Saviour. We are always sure to get it by going to Him, and 
 we can always get to Him through the Word, and by yield- 
 ing to the drawings of the Comforter.' 
 
 While he was on his journey, the sick-bed in Alloa 
 was not forgotten, though he had enough otherwise to 
 fill his heart and thoughts. He wrote from Paris : — 
 
 ' I hope to hear, before leaving, of your dear invalid. 
 May I send him this keepsake text, the echo of which has 
 been ringing in my mind since standing by Napoleon's 
 tomb : " Yea, He shall live." What a well-spring of comfort, 
 that over the heart which beats with infinite love is a breast- 
 plate that is never off, bearing our names. It sends a gleam 
 of sunshine through the darkest cloud.' 
 
 The arrival at San Eemo was announced : — 
 
 '31st October. 
 ' " They of Italy salute you." . . . Dear invalid consider- 
 ably fatigued, but recovering slowly.' 
 
 To his daughter at home he says : — 
 
 ' 4th November. 
 '. . . My anxieties about our darling child are more than I 
 can utter. 
 
238 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' Grand, solemn, almost awful petition thai, " Thy will be 
 done on earth as it is in heaven." 
 
 ' " My God, my Father, while I stray 
 
 Far from my home, on life's rough way, 
 Oh teach me from my heart to say, 
 
 Thy will be done." 
 
 ' If the joy of Jesus is double compensation for all He 
 suffered, then surely also will ours be. For every pain and 
 sigh there Avill soon be myriads of AUelujahs. The blessed- 
 ness of that rest will exceed, beyond compare, the toils and 
 the conflicts of the way. " I will render double unto 
 thee." ' 
 
 To Mr. M'Dowall, still in great weakness : — - 
 
 ' 1st December. 
 
 ' The Lord bless you, my beloved brother, for your kind 
 word in season, just received. " Wait on the Lord, and He 
 shall strengthen thine heart." He walks the billows with 
 us, and we hear Him say, "It is I." 
 
 ' May I send you in return this cheer : "In all things we 
 are more than conquerors, through Him who loved us." 
 
 ' It is not said we shall he, but " we are." We overcome 
 our foes before they come. 
 
 ' He will " make us kings and priests." 
 
 ' He " hath croivned us with loving-kindness," to tell up 
 yonder, to " principalities and powers," how faithful His 
 love has been, and how we have discovered it, in the furnace 
 and amid the flames. Will not this be everlasting wealth ? 
 May we not well be grateful to Him that He is putting us 
 now in the way of learning it 1 
 
'clouds after rain.' 239 
 
 ' I cannot hear of you too often. I wish it every day. 
 Much of His tender mercy have we seen and tasted together, 
 and He keeps His best to the last. " Light is sown " for 
 you. Eternity with its unutterable joys, and your entailed 
 inheritance safe — infallibly safe in your Redeemer's keeping. 
 Are not His pleadings for you the sowing and the storing up 
 of bliss for you ? Shall you not get back the priceless seed- 
 corn, multiplied ten thousand times ten thousand 1 Oh, 
 does not our loveliest music fall flat, compared with the 
 praises due to " Him who loved us " 1 
 
 ' My darling Jessie continues much as she was. 
 
 ' Neither sun nor stars for a good long while appeared, but 
 we are "casting out our anchors, and longing for the day." 
 
 ' The work that lies to my hand here among the sick and 
 sorrowful is intensely interesting. Two discourses every 
 Sabbath, besides three others in Bible-reading meetings, 
 during the week. You will be asking much blessing for us 
 — a loosened hold of earth, and a tightened grasp of Christ 
 and of heaven.' 
 
 To another : — 
 
 ' 20th December. 
 
 ' . . . Jessie has been sending Christmas cards to all her 
 special friends, in place of letters, which she is quite unable 
 to write. The putting them in the envelopes has exhausted 
 her. You may judge how weak she is, yet how sweetly 
 patient and happy in the love of God. All the length I 
 
 have got Dr. to go is, " "Well, I daresay she is a little 
 
 better than she was when she came out." . . . The Lord 
 raises up kind friends here, some of them total strangers, 
 till drawn to her by her loveliness and Christ's love. 
 
240 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' I long to hear particulars of dear ■ ■. May I send 
 
 him 2 Thess. ii. 16, 17. My heart often hovers about his 
 room and his bed. " Sweet to lie passive." 
 
 ' My work here does much to sustain me. Six services 
 now every week — one of them peculiarly touching, for 
 native children. I address them through an accomplished 
 interpreter.' 
 
 '3rd January 1877. 
 
 '. . . . Every spare moment from Jessie is filled up with 
 my work, and I can only send assurances of constant love, 
 with all the greetings of the season, in trite phrase, but 
 with tenfold earnestness. Round the cape of this season 
 what ships of memory come floating, freighted with loving 
 recollections of those who have reached the " desired haven " 
 and the " golden city." 
 
 ' This work is full of interest. I wish I had time to tell 
 you all. It would melt your heart to hear the native 
 children, at the children's meeting, singing in their own 
 tongue, *' Safe in the arms of Jesus," to our own familiar 
 tune — 
 
 ' " Sicuro in man di Cristo, 
 Sicuro nel sno cor, 
 L'anima mia reposa 
 All'ombra deU'amor." 
 
 ' Oh, pray for " strengthening with all might unto all 
 patience." ' 
 
 ' 26th January. 
 ' Our darling has been under an attack of congestion, 
 caused by the sudden change of weather and the keen east 
 winds. . . . Your hearts will be with us, apprehending the 
 
'clouds after rain.' 241 
 
 depth of our anxieties, and pleading for us. . . . How 
 sweetly calm she is ! So like her own precious mother and 
 yours. 
 
 ' " Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, 
 When such sad breezes blow." . . . 
 
 '"Is anything too hard for the Lord ? " ' 
 
 ' 13 th February. 
 
 ' Go on, dear , believingly, lovingly spreading our 
 
 case before the Lord. Symptoms this morning less favour- 
 able. . . . Our darling Jessie's patience is a wonderful 
 illustration of the ripeness of her Christian character, and 
 complete surrender to God. Will praying friends help us 
 to lean hard on the arm that never wearies and is never 
 withdrawn 1 ' 
 
 To Mrs. C. :— 
 
 ' Uth February 1877. 
 
 ' ... In such warmth of kindnesses as yours she recognises 
 God's own love, and they taste the sweeter because she finds 
 God in them all. Blessed be His name for anything that 
 shuts us up to treat the truths of the Bible as realities, 
 especially the great truth that centres in a circle round the 
 cross. How it lifts lis above all circumstances of time, and 
 place, and change, giving us a resting-place that is permanent 
 in the midst of all that is passing and perishing ; and the 
 more we look at it, the more we are filled with a calm and 
 satisfying gladness. . . . 
 
 ' Wherever our tent may be pitched, whatever may be the 
 day's hard march on towards the land of promise, is there 
 not ahvays by our side a well — the well of God's own love 1 
 
 ' You will not cease to pray for us, that out of that well 
 Q 
 
242 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 our faith may drink more largely, and that each draught 
 may send us on our way rejoicing — it may he " as sorrow- 
 ful — yet alway rejoicing." . . .' 
 
 To another: — 
 
 ' 26th Fehruary. 
 
 ' . . . How meekly and how sweetly she bears it all ! never 
 a murmur or a regret. The crown that the Lord hath 
 promised to them that endure seems already to rest upon 
 her head ! 
 
 ' It is a long trial of watching and of weeping I have had 
 — no words can tell it ; but the trial is precious, the comfort 
 abounds, and even in the lowest depths I have realized the 
 infinitude of His love . . . 
 
 ' Our services are increasingly cheering, though the seed 
 is sown in many tears.' 
 
 Sometimes in the silent night there would be the 
 sad plaint heard : ' " Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, 
 and wilt Thou take Benjamin away ? " ' 
 
 To THE Congregation at JSTewington. 
 
 ' San Remo, 9th January 1877. 
 ' IMy dear Friends, — Though far separated from you by 
 distance, I feel very near to you in heart. Since we parted, 
 not a day has passed without many tender thoughts of home ; 
 and I have " dragged at each remove a lengthening chain," 
 which binds me to you all. You seem to gather round me 
 in invisible remembrance, specially when Ave are, as I trust, 
 together "in the Spirit on the Lord's day," and still more 
 specially, when at the Lord's table you are receiving the 
 
' CLOUDS AFTER RAIN.' 243 
 
 symbols of His sacrifice from His own pierced hand. I 
 expect that this will be read to you ere you leave the 
 sacramental table on Sabbath first. I have so arranged 
 that, as near as possible to the same hour, we shall be 
 celebrating the sacred Supper here. Is it not a fitting season 
 for opening our hearts to each other, when my prayers are 
 so much with you, as I feel certain yours will be with me 1 
 The same Christ in many souls, giving them a holy sympathy 
 and oneness, knitting us together by the interchange of 
 loving thoughts, and by many an intertwining thread of 
 mutual intercession — is not this communion? is not this 
 truly " fellowship one with another 1 and the blood of Jesus 
 Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us from all sin," While He 
 is making it to you a scene of soul enrichment, He will also, 
 of His great liberality, send from His royal table a portion 
 of meat in due season to us who are afar off in this "dry 
 and thirsty land." I "remember" you "from the land of 
 Jordan and the Hermonites," when " deep calleth unto 
 deep." My longing heart flies over land and sea to meet 
 the old familiar faces. When my spirit is overwhelmed 
 within me, ^^ He knoweth the way that I take." My times 
 are wholly in His hand ; where could we better wish them 
 to be than in the hand that was nailed to the cross for us ! 
 So, let us leave our burdens at His feet, and take a song 
 away, falling in with the feelings of David when he left 
 the altar and the ark behind — " If the Lord will. He will 
 bring me again, and show me both it and His holy habitation ; 
 but if not, here am I, let Him do Avith me (and mine) what 
 seemeth to Him good ? " 
 
 ' Oh, let none of us think very hard thoughts of God, 
 because of all that has befallen us. I "set to my seal " 
 
244 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 that "He is faithful Avho hath promised;" that there are 
 no wounds which the unctions of His gospel cannot heal — 
 no burdens which He does not strengthen us to bear, 
 
 * On the bygone and buried year do we not inscribe this 
 epitaph, " Not one good thing hath failed of all that the 
 Lord hath spoken." Even during the three past months, 
 how many breaks death has made in the group that used to 
 encompass our communion table ! I seem to meet there 
 the moistened eyes of many a mourner for the dead. 
 
 ' Nothing has added so much to my OAvn affliction as the 
 impossibility of visiting the sick and the sorrowing in theirs ; 
 that I have not been permitted to accompany the dying to 
 that ship which knows no return. But if they have sailed 
 away to be with Christ — for the very change we are 
 deploring, they are giving thanks before the throne. 
 
 ' " Glory, glory, how the angels sing ! " but there are notes 
 which no angel can reach, struck from the harps of those 
 dear ones Avho have gone up from your side and mine, to 
 " Avalk in Avhite," because " washed in the blood of the 
 Lamb." 
 
 ' Living, as we do, in a world where faces are continually 
 changing beneath the awful shadow, well may you and I 
 rejoice together in the permanency of the grand springs of 
 spiritual life, those blessed truths which centre in and 
 circle round the cross. These are the sure, the supreme 
 (may I not say, the only) realities ; and the longer we look 
 at them, are we not filled with a calm and satisfying gladness ? 
 Let us help each other to make this the one thing we desire 
 of the Lord and seek after — a firmer trust and a closer walk 
 — a warmer heart and a louder song. 
 
 ' It has been, and is, to me matter of deep gratitude to 
 
'clouds after eain.' 245 
 
 God that you as a flock are left in no respect as sheep 
 without a shepherd, since the ministry of the word and of 
 all pastoral care is so faithfully rendered by my beloved 
 colleague, 
 
 'May he be more and more sustained amid abovmding 
 labours, and long may you enjoy, at his lips, the mingled 
 sound of the shepherd's voice and the watchman's warning ! 
 
 ' Most cordially do I desire the best of blessings for the 
 brethren of the session, in their personal and their official 
 characters. May they have reason to joy in beholding your 
 order, and the stedfastness of your faith in Christ. Let me 
 thank all of j^ou, old and young, who have favoured me 
 Avith letters and messages of kindness. Many of these have 
 had no echo or answer, because my hand is too helpless for 
 much letter-writing, and I have had to limit my letters to 
 such of you as are peculiarly "companions in tribulation," 
 suflfering the sorrows of bereaved affection. Yet on all of 
 you alike may the broadest benediction come down, and be 
 felt in growing comforts and graces, in all 3'our hearts and 
 homes ! It is the sweetest balance to my spirit to think 
 of your " conversation being such as becometh the gospel of 
 Christ," " that whether I come and see you, or else be 
 absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in 
 one mind, striving together for the faith of the gospel," — 
 shining "as lights in the world, holding forth the Word 
 of Life." It is not you that are to shine — it is your light. 
 "Let j^our light so shine before men;" all considerations 
 of self being absorbed in the one grand life-purpose — of 
 "glorifying our Father who is in heaven." Tlie seraphim 
 before His throne, each with six wings, use two of them 
 for service, but four for humility. If self be very low. 
 
246 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 and the Saviour very high, then shall the joy of both 
 your ministers be fulfilled, and the church among you will 
 be sure to be the fitting home for the new life — the place 
 of freedom and brotherly confidence, and all the truest and 
 tenderest concords — combining all the varieties of Christian 
 growth, the winningness of Christian childhood, and the 
 enthusiasm of Christian youth ; the vigour of Christian 
 manhood, and the ripe exjDeriences of Christian old age. 
 
 ' As our custom used to be at communion times, may I 
 ofi'er you a motto -text to take away with you from the 
 table (1 Thess. ii. 17): "We, brethren, being taken from 
 you for a short time in presence, not in heart, endeavoured 
 the more abundantly to see your face with great desire. 
 For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are 
 not even ye in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ at His 
 coming? For ye are our glory and joy." 
 
 ' Yes, your salvation, yours, is not merely the measure, 
 but in a very solemn sense the substance, of the " prize " 
 for which we run. 
 
 ' And we long to see the year that has now opened the 
 richest in spiritual life among yoii — a year in which you 
 will realize more abiding "peace in believing," and so give 
 forth more visible graciousness, and abound in more loving 
 service. 
 
 ' It is no small consolation to me to know that the 
 various institutions and Avorks of usefulness, which are the 
 life of a congregation, continue to prosper well. "With 
 the New Year, may there be a new start in them all, as 
 from a higher platform, so that yours may be the encomium 
 of Christ's own Epistle to the Church of Thyatira (the 
 Church of progress among the seven) : "I know thy works, 
 
'clouds after rain.' 247 
 
 . . . and thy ivorlis, and the last to be more than the 
 first." 
 
 ' Did He relouke the two sons of Zebedee for setting their 
 hearts on the highest positions — " the right hand and the 
 left in His kingdom"? I^o, He did not rebuke them for 
 such legitimate and noble ambition, though He loarned them 
 of the only terms on which such dignities could be theirs, 
 — a cup and a baptism — a cup of many bitter tears, and a 
 baptism into seas of sorrow. 
 
 'This earth, with all its sorrows, is our training school 
 for that heaven where " His servants shall serve Him." There 
 is one service needful in this school, which will never come 
 again ! Think of it, fellow - suffering believer, and say, 
 Never again, to all eternity, shall I have an opportunity of 
 glorifying God in the service of suffering." 
 
 ' " jSTow our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and God, even 
 our Father, who hath loved us, and hath given us everlasting 
 consolation and good hope through grace, comfort your 
 hearts, and stablish you in every good word and work." 
 
 ' I understand Mr. Young has been keeping you regularly 
 informed as to the work I have on hand here, so that you 
 may be guided in your intercessions on its behalf. 
 
 ' I wish I had time left to tell you how immensely and 
 intensely interesting that work is ! And how urgent is the 
 need of it in the face of such abject superstitious beliefs 
 on the one hand, and such educated unbelief on the other ! 
 For greatly do I fear that Italy, dispossessed in some degree, 
 and for the time, of one unclean spirit, is, from among the 
 demons of infidelity, taking back seven other spirits, more 
 wicked still ! What can save it, but the replenishment and 
 filling of the empty house with the pure " gospel of the 
 
248 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 grace of God " 1 The only way to iireach error down, is to 
 preach up " the truth as it is in Jesus." 
 
 ' Even the religiousness which is around us here appears 
 to be mainly that which fascinates the senses, and imposes 
 on the imagination, by means of pictures and music, and 
 masses and mummery, and material altars and gorgeous 
 rituals, etc. "Ye have not so learned Christ." 
 
 *0h, clasp closer to you hearts your precious Bible, and 
 the simple gospel that saves your souls ! Cease not to pray 
 that the old blood - red banner of the cross, which, in 
 apostolic days, wrought such wonders in this land, may be 
 borne aloft and to the forefront 7iow ; that Protestant 
 Churches here, feeble as yet, but steadily growing, may push 
 their peaceful conquests, persuaded that Christ's truth must 
 win, that Christ's life must spread, that Christ's name must 
 be magnified, and Christ's kingdom come ! Hasten that 
 triumph ! God of mercy ! 
 
 ' And you, dearly beloved larahs of the flock, you are not 
 forgotten in the services we have for the Italian children. 
 How it would touch you and melt you to tears to hear 
 them singing (as we have tried to teach them in their own 
 language) your own familiar Sabbath-school hymns, and to 
 your own favourite tunes: "Just as I am, without one 
 plea;." "Jesus loves me, this I know;" " Safe in the arms 
 of Jesus." In these arms, my dear, dear friends, old and 
 young, may you all be safe, you and your children. Ten 
 thousand blessings ever rest on you ! — So wishes, so prays, 
 your affectionate pastor, J. R.' 
 
 The tender life Mr. Eobertson was anxiously watch- 
 ing was evidently fading away. His brother, the 
 
'clouds after rain.' 249 
 
 Eev. Dr. Eobertson of Irvine, who was at that time 
 living abroad, had joined the sorrowing circle at San 
 Eemo, and thus wrote to his sister at home : — 
 
 ' The barometer has fallen, and the gentle, sensitive, true, 
 delicate life has fallen with it. The doctor hopes the weather 
 may break up and brighten. If it does not, I am afraid, 
 among its shadows, is stalking around toward us the darkest, 
 for our saintly, darling child. . . . James, as you will under- 
 stand, is overwhelmed with distress. . . . But he is always 
 ready for his work of preaching. . . .' 
 
 When the end came, it was thus told to sorrowing 
 friends at home, by her sister who was with her : — - 
 
 '22nd April 1877. 
 
 ' Such loveliness in death and dying we never saw, and 
 never shall we forget it. 
 
 ' On Saturday morning very early, she took my hand 
 suddenly, and said, "Where are they all? Tell them to 
 come." They came, and just after, we perceived a sad 
 change. . . . Father quoted some text, Avhen she said, " Tell 
 me, am I going to die 1" A little cloud overshadowed her, 
 but just for a moment ; then she said very sweetly, " I am 
 going to be with Jesus." 
 
 ' Uncle said, " ' which is far better.'" 
 
 ' "Far better," she echoed, "far better." 
 
 ' " And dear mother," father continued. 
 
 * " Oh yes," with such lovely sunshine in her face, " next 
 to Jesus, dear mother." 
 
 ' It was a bright morning, the windows were wide open, 
 and her curtain was up ; so she lay looking out on the 
 
250 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 beautiful blue sea, but she seemed to be looking far, far 
 beyond. 
 
 ' "Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty," father said. 
 
 ' " Oh yes," she said, " and I hope you'll all come and see 
 
 Him. Tell Dr. to be sure and tell all the people he 
 
 goes to see to come, and " see the King in His beauty ; " 
 and tell all the hotel people, " 'Him that cometh to Me, I 
 will in no wise cast out.' " 
 
 ' Then, turning to me, she said, " I would like you to give 
 Joseph my Bible. He liked it, and he'll maybe keep it for 
 my sake," . . . "I want to tell you my favourite verse, 
 * He loved me, and gave Himself for me.' I think He's 
 coming — " Lord Jesus, come quickly, oh, come quickly." . . . 
 
 'Looking up into my face, she said, "Are you sure I'm 
 ready?" adding, "I was once very bad, but He redeemed 
 me. Tell all the people at home, and the dear little Sabbath 
 scholars, to come to Jesus now." 
 
 ' " Yes," said father, " you came to Him early, and you 
 would like them to do so too." 
 
 * " Oh yes, I'm so glad I did, for I never could have done 
 it now." " Oh, you've all been so kind to me ; " and with an 
 effort she raised her finger, and pointed to the French 
 nurse, who was in a corner of the room, weeping bitterly. 
 
 ' Louise came forward, and Jessie took her hand and threw 
 her a kiss; but the kind old nurse was not going to be 
 satisfied with that, but came forward and kissed her, amid 
 sobs and tears. 
 
 ' " Oh, to ' steal away to Jesus, to steal away home,' " she 
 said in a whisper. 
 
 ' Uncle William, Avho was accustomed to bring her, each 
 morning, a glass of fresh spring water, which she greatly 
 
'clouds after rain.' 251 
 
 relished, repeated tlie words, "The Lamb which is in the 
 
 midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead them unto 
 
 living fountains of water." 
 
 ' Looking up to him, she said, " I'll not need you then." 
 ' Then she fell back, saying, " Now I'm tired ; good-night, 
 
 good-night." 
 
 ' What a testimony that was, during all that solemn 
 forenoon, and indeed during all those hours of passing away, 
 that spoke louder than the grandest sermon ! 
 
 ' This morning when we were all around her, Uncle 
 said, " "What a bright Sabbath morning ! " 
 
 '"Is it Sabbath morning?" she asked; "I did not re- 
 member. What a bad memory I have ! " 
 
 ' " Yes, dear, it is, and it's a long time now since you've 
 been at church." 
 
 ' " Perhaps I'll be there before you to-day, ' to the general 
 assembly and Church of the first-born,' " she replied. 
 
 ' And so it was. 
 
 'The gates of the upper sanctuary opened, and she 
 entered in.' 
 
 Her father wrote : — 
 
 ' I never saw " Triumph in Christ " such as we have been 
 witnessing in the departure of our darling. It has been 
 . . . heaven begun below. . . . All through Saturday, and on 
 through the night, she lay in the extremity of weakness, 
 yet glorying in the cross, and most vividly remembering you 
 all. . . . 
 
 ' Her messages to her class, and the young people of the 
 congregation, were overpoweringly tender, . . . 
 
252 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' When I had said — 
 
 ' " Oil, to be over yonder, 
 In that world of wonder ! 
 There's no more shadow yonder 
 In the presence of the King ; " 
 
 ' Instantly her face brightened as if a heavenly light Avere 
 dawning, and with the sweetest smile she passed away. 
 ' Fond love to yon all from a bleeding heart.' 
 
 ' So young, so lovel}', so full of promise ' (wrote a 
 sympathizing friend to her father), ' so fitted for usefulness, 
 and for a mission to brighten your pilgrimage and that of 
 many others — it is very hard to resign her.' 
 
 Yes, very hard. 
 
 And ' mother earth received on trust ' — on trust 
 only — one more cherished treasure, on 24th April, 
 the day on which, in the year before, the hand of 
 death was laid so suddenly on her eldest sister. 
 
 And her fatlier says : — 
 
 ' From that little narrow grave, in the corner of that 
 foreign cemetery, between the rustling of the olives and the 
 sounding of the sea, there streams up"vvard a bright path- 
 Avay of sure and certain hope to the throne of Jesus, and to 
 tlie glory that fadeth not away.' 
 
 Dr. Robertson arain wrote to his sister : — 
 
 ' Fiesole, Toscano. 
 ' . . . How intensely I came to love that lovely Jessie, 
 who, 1 think, was the sweetest child that ever needed to be 
 saved ! . . . How nobly James bore himself as it drew nearer 
 
' CLOUDS AFTER RAIN.' 253 
 
 the end, and noblest of all at the last ! When he was 
 no longer distracted by possibilities of recovery, and the 
 melancholy sound of that broken cough that echoed down 
 the corridors all through the night — the saddest music I 
 ever listened to — when he knew it had ceased in the 
 silence out of which rises the New Song, when he saw 
 it was not possible the cup could pass from him, he 
 said, " Thy will be done," and set his face stedfastly and 
 even cheerfully to the rest. He was so ill when she was not 
 so ill, that there seemed no way of outgoing for him at the 
 end except either to go down altogether, as he feared he 
 Avould, or to rise, as he did, upon the other side into the full 
 majesty and dignity of Christian grief. And that he did, 
 with not a little in it of the truly sublime. We glorified 
 God in him also. . . . You will help to keep him up, as his 
 icork too so wonderfully does . . .' 
 
 With stores of unwritten and tender memory 
 regarding those days, so sad to them — ' yet to her so 
 evidently happy ' — the mourners, after depositing the 
 precious seed, turned their faces homewards. 
 
 The season for ministerial work at San Eemo was 
 over. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 lEbenttlie. 
 
 1877-1878. 
 
 Mr. Eobertson was now in a shattered state of health, 
 and, after reaching London, tarried there several weeks, 
 on his way north ; thus putting off the sad home- 
 going till he was more able for it. 
 
 He had at this time, we are told, a touching evidence 
 of sympathy from the pastor of the Metropolitan 
 Tabernacle. Mr. Spurgeon had met with them at San 
 Eemo, and been deeply interested in Jessie. On the 
 Sabbath after returning to London, Mr. Eobertson 
 went in late, after the sermon had begun, to a back 
 seat in the Tabernacle. Mr. Spurgeon, who notices 
 everything, saw him come in, and immediately turned 
 his sermon into a consolatory strain, and, as Mr. 
 Eobertson expressed it, poured out for five minutes 
 the very richest comfort. Mr. Eobertson thanked him 
 at the close, and Mr. Spurgeon said, ' I could not help 
 it when I saw you looking so sad.' 
 
 Medical advice was, at first, contrary to his attempt- 
 ing work at home for a time ; but, in the midst of 
 
 254 
 
EVENTIDE. 255 
 
 congenial Christian friends (of whose tender sympathy 
 and kindness we cannot speak too strongly), and in the 
 world-wide interests of the ' May meetings,' he found 
 temporary diversion from his sense of loss, till he 
 was sufficiently revived to warrant the same advice 
 in recommending a gradual return to his favourite 
 employment, in the old and well-loved sphere, while 
 forbidding residence at the old home. 
 He says : — ■ 
 
 ' I had a great deal of happy fellowship in London with 
 some of the holiest and the best out of heaven. 
 
 ' What blessed gatherings ! What blessed greetings before 
 the throne ! How my heart did respond to that sentence 
 in your last, " Is the heavenly influence our darling Jessie 
 carried about with her to be ours no more, but in memory 1 " 
 
 ' It teas a mighty influence for good that God gave her. 
 I find on every side the tokens of the blessing she has left 
 behind her. Often still, " I am, with sore affliction, quite 
 overwhelmed." 
 
 'But it is more and more sensibly "swallowed up in 
 victory." 
 
 ' What special cause we have to be thankful for that last 
 Beatitude from the lips of Jesus : " Blessed are they who 
 have not seen, and yet have believed ! " 
 
 ' Oh, these sweet, and bright, and ever - remembered 
 faces ! What a morning that will be when we sball see 
 them again, and shall love one another yet with an eternal 
 love ! 
 
 'The light has gone from everything here except the 
 glorious gospel of the blessed God.' 
 
256 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 To Mr. M'Dowall, then very feeble, and little able 
 to write : — 
 
 ' 4th December 1877. 
 
 ' . . . Only just now has your precious letter reached me 
 — precious to me as coming from you, and still more so, as a 
 token of the loving confidence that has blessed all our clays. 
 It is very sweet to me in the midst of my sore adversities, 
 of which I understand you have been told, and more of 
 which I may be able to tell you some day soon, when I can 
 get to your side. 
 
 ' . . . I can only add the reassurance of fervent and most 
 grateful affection. Let us " stay ourselves on our God " — 
 the best of all consolations, connecting us with those who 
 have gone before, and conveying us toward them in heart 
 and aim.' 
 
 After Mr. Kobertsou's death, a friend quoted the 
 following incident, as told to him by Mr. Robert- 
 son. 
 
 ' A few days ago, I w'as walking along the road, 
 and came upon a poor blind boy, sitting at the road- * 
 side, flying a kite. 
 
 ' I said to him, " My boy, what are you doing 
 flying a kite ? You cannot see it." 
 
 ' Turning his blind eyes up towards me, he 
 replied, " No, I canna see it, but I can feel it 
 tuggin'." ' 
 
 Mr. Robertson added, ' I am like the little blind 
 laddie. I feel something tuggin', and by and by 
 I'll see them all again.' 
 
EVENTIDE. 257 
 
 To a niece : — 
 
 'December 1877. 
 
 ' . . . Sending to-day a device of dear M.'s for our darling 
 Jessie's tombstone — an open Bible, with a dove hovering 
 over it, and under the name, on the one open page, " I am 
 the way, the truth, and the life " in Italian ; and on the 
 other, in English, " Jesus only." " He loved me, and gave 
 Himself for me."' 
 
 ' Never can my heart cease to bleed and linger yonder,' 
 he says, some months later. 
 
 Another friend tells us that — 
 
 ' Mr. Robertson's visits to the Cripples' Home in Salisbury 
 Place were much enjoyed by the children. He used to give 
 them simple texts. The older children got one for each 
 finger, which they were to try and repeat to him on his next 
 visit. One day a friend called, and of their own accord 
 the children went through the exercise of repeating the 
 texts. The last to do this was a quiet, intelligent boy 
 who had lost his hand. He held up the stump of his 
 arm, and said, "As I have no fingers, Mr. Eobertson 
 gave me a big text for this — he said it was so big that 
 it could cover all my sins ; " and the boy repeated the 
 words, "The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us 
 from all sin." 
 
 'The young sufferers longed for his visits. Wlienever 
 they saw him passing along the street, they hastened to the 
 windows and clapped their hands, and if he went on they 
 were disappointed and silent, but if he turned in they 
 shouted for joy. Every Sabbath mornmg as he passed to 
 
 R 
 
258 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 church they were watching for him, and whenever he came 
 in sight their sweet voices at once joined in the hymn — 
 
 "'0 that will be joyful, 
 
 When we meet to part no more. " 
 
 Mr. Robertson woukl stand still for a few moments, his 
 heart would fill, and then he would hasten away to his loved 
 work, with the notes of the children's song following him and 
 cheering him in both his " doing and suffering," as the 
 children's Hosanna did the Master in His.' 
 
 The tie to the little sufferers was all the stronger 
 now that Eliza and Jessie had been frequent visitors, 
 carrying their gentle, natural, easy cheer to them. 
 
 Having returned to Glasgow, Mr. Robertson remained 
 with his friends there, going to Edinburgh as strength 
 allowed, to discharge his ministerial work, with the 
 hope — ardently cherished — of being able to resume 
 residence when more fit for it. 
 
 Under some ' aggravations of personal suffering,' he 
 was, however, for the time being ' medically inter- 
 dicted ' from such residence, and, in the end, ' had no 
 choice left him but that of withdrawing from the 
 more regular and active duties and responsibilities of 
 the pastorate.' This partial retirement was a heavy 
 trial — the climax of his sorrows. 
 
 He had ' been bereaved of his children — bereft of his 
 work, he was bereaved.' Still, there was some allevia- 
 tion, as he said, in ' the hope that, during the remainder 
 of my sadly-darkened days, I may, by God's continued 
 
EVENTIDE. 259 
 
 mercy, be able yet to seek the good of that people to 
 whom my whole heart clings, and who have been the 
 object of my constant care and love, ever since they 
 were first brought together as a new congregation.' 
 
 Still he sought ' the strength to suffer, and the will 
 to serve ; ' in all that came to him, was not ' our 
 Father's will the perfection of all reasons ? When 
 the thorns rankle in the flesh, the more is grace poured 
 into the soul. The hotter the furnace, the more bright 
 and beautiful the presence of the Son of God.' 
 
 His brethren of the Presbytery, as well as all who 
 spoke at the congregational meeting called to consider 
 his resignation, uttered their sympathies very tenderly, 
 with great affection and regard. 
 
 Nor was his cup of sorrow yet full. 
 
 In the midst of all these anxieties, he had been 
 passing to and from the sick-bed of a dear sister, whose 
 gentle life was ebbing to its close ; and who, among 
 the last days of the year, went quietly home to join 
 those ' gone before.' 
 
 We give some of the notes written during his sister's 
 illness in 1877, and on to the time of her death: — 
 
 '3rd September 1877. 
 
 ' My very dear I., — . . . May you be guarded, delivered, 
 and blessed every hour ! Why should we ever doubt that 
 our Heavenly Father has a personal affection and care for 
 these bodies as Avell as these souls of ours ! I believe that if 
 that thin veil which separates the two worlds were drawn 
 
260 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 aside just now, we would see such a look on His face that 
 we would never doubt again. And though there be those 
 on earth who love us, and of whose sympathy we feel quite 
 sure, yet far more tenderly and devotedly does He love us, 
 putting our " tears into His bottle, and our sighs into His 
 book." ' 
 
 ' 1 5th November. 
 
 ' . . . I hope to find you suffering less when I come, and 
 kept very close to the fountain of Love. How gracious our 
 God is to permit us to give and to receive kindnesses ! 
 
 ' Is not His love like the centre of gravity in the material 
 world — not only attracting all things to itself, but uniting 
 them harmoniously to each other % ' 
 
 '"A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." Is it 
 not comforting to think of Jesus under this character? 
 Here He is come to sit over you as a Refiner — one who was 
 "exceeding sorrowful, even unto death," who knows all the 
 bitterness of the saddest heart. . . .' 
 
 ' " These things have I spoken unto you, that My joy 
 might remain in you, and that your joy might be full." 
 Christ can give to the most sorrowful such joy unspeakable, 
 and He gives it by making known to the soul what He has 
 done, and by showing to the soul what He is still. These 
 are the things spoken of from which our joy flows. His 
 voice, drawing our thoughts to Himself, is that which brings 
 healing to our wounds. 
 
 ' " These things have I spoken unto you, that in Me ye 
 might have peace." What He has told us of His salvation, 
 and the love shown to us in providing it all — these are the 
 things applied by the Comforter. These are the springs of 
 
EVENTIDE. 261 
 
 comfort which, like the snows of Lebanon, are so high that 
 nothing can ever dry them up ! . . .' 
 
 ' " God commendeth His love " in this, " that while we 
 were yet sinners Christ died for us." 
 
 ' " He hath made Him to be sin for us, that we might be 
 made" not merely righteous, but righteousness — and "the 
 righteousness of God in Him." 
 
 ' ' ' Jesus, liow glorious is Thy grace ! 
 When in Thy name we trust, 
 Our faith receives a righteousness 
 That makes the sinner just." ' 
 
 ' 24th November. 
 
 ' I want to tell you of a little boy of a friend of mine, 
 Avho was returning home the other night with his father by 
 some bye-paths that were utterly unknown to the child, and, 
 after wonderings and questionings, he at last gripped his 
 father's hand fast in the dark, and said, *' I knoAV nothing 
 at all about this road, except that we are going home ; " and 
 then he added, " You'll tell me all about it when Ave get 
 there." I thought this is a picture of simple trust in our 
 Best Friend, and of what it is to let Him lead us on in the 
 pure night of faith. 
 
 ' I was greatly struck with that when I was beside the 
 sick-bed of old Professor Duncan. He was a thinker that 
 could wade knee-deep in waters that drowned other people, 
 and all his life he had perplexed himself with metaphysical 
 subtleties. Yet at the end he used to say, he found himself 
 back at his mother's knee, receiving the gospel — the grace 
 of Jesus — the kingdom of heaven — as a little child. 
 
262 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' His deep thinking had done nothing to clear his way to 
 the unknown world. 
 
 ' Words often on his lips were — 
 
 ' " Nothing in my hand I Ijring, 
 Simply to Thy cross I cling." 
 
 ' He held fast his first hope as his last hope firm to the 
 end. 
 
 ' God puts us down into very dark places to learn the 
 lesson of hope — "Good hope through grace." It is a lesson 
 generally learned in a strange school — " the valley of Achor 
 for a door of hope " — the low places of trouble opening the 
 happy vistas which run up and up to the throne of God. 
 Jesus is our Hope. We turn to our stronghold as " prisoners 
 of hope." " May the God of Hope fill you Avith all joy and 
 peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope through the 
 power of the Holy Ghost." ' 
 
 ' 30th November. 
 
 ' May I offer you one or two of the healing leaves of the 
 tree of life % 
 
 ' Isa. liii. 5 : " The chastisement of our peace was on Him, 
 and with His stripes we are healed." 
 
 ' ]\Iark V. 34 : " Daughter, thy faith hath made thee 
 whole." She had tremblingly touched only the hem of His 
 garment. There was no merit in the act itself. Her healing 
 was the result of believing that Jesus was full to the brim 
 with healing virtue. 
 
 ' " By grace " — not grace loithin us, but grace toithout us 
 — "ye are saved." . . . 
 
 ' A negro convert said, " I know now what free grace 
 means — something for nothing." . . . 
 
EVENTIDE. 263 
 
 ' Yes, it is given freely, without anything in us, or done 
 by us, or felt by us, or spoken by us, or possessed by us — 
 " without money, and without price." This is the " strength 
 to the poor — a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge 
 from the storm, and a shadow from the heat," May the 
 good Lord breathe on you His own most blessed peace.' 
 
 ' 4th December. 
 ' Another drop of Bible balm — 
 
 ' Eph. i. 6 : " To the praise of the glory of His grace . . . 
 
 accepted in the Beloved." 
 
 ' This is the Eock that never moves — 
 
 ' Christ 
 
 ' In the glory of His person, 
 
 ' The love of His heart, 
 
 ' The power of His arm. 
 
 ' ' ' "Weaker now — a bruised reed — 
 Help I every moment need." 
 
 ' " The bruised reed He will not break." 
 ' " The Eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath (at our 
 lowest — at our worst) are the Everlasting Arms." ' 
 
 '11th December. 
 ' Will you, dear J., drop these words betimes into our 
 beloved sister's dying ear ? 
 
 ' " I will make mention of His righteousness, even of 
 His only.'" 
 
 ' " Had I au angel's righteousness, 
 I'd lay aside tliat glorious dress 
 And wrap me up in Clnist." 
 
264 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' "Thy righteousness 
 
 Shall be my marriage dress, 
 In which I'll stand 
 At God's right hand, 
 
 Forgiven. 
 And enter rest, 
 Among the blest, 
 
 In heaven. " 
 
 ' " My righteousness shall never be abolished, and my 
 salvation shall be for ever." ' 
 
 ' 16th December. 
 
 ' Grateful for your tidings of the dear patient sufferer. 
 Most tenderly are you both remembered. 
 
 ' "The river of God is full of water." 
 
 ' Our emptiness is but another name for our capacity of 
 being filled. . . . 
 
 ' May God Himself fill you with all strength and comfort. 
 
 . . . They cast out their " anchors from the stern, and 
 
 wished for the day." But when the morning broke God's 
 
 love was high above the storm. Our Anchor is ever 
 
 drawing us home — drawing us to itself — not downwards, 
 
 beneath devouring Avaves, but upwards to unending joys. 
 
 ' " When the shore is won at last, 
 
 Who will count the billows past ? " ' 
 
 ' In the Train, 1 8th December, 
 * I cannot keep from going on talking with you. It was a 
 sore wrench to tear myself off to-day. Do let me hear by 
 every post if you can. We will poise our hearts on the 
 thought, " Thou art with me." 
 
 ' " Bound in the bundle of life." 
 
 ' " Who then can e'er divide us more 
 From Jesus and His love ? " ' 
 
EVENTIDE. 265 
 
 ' 19th December. 
 * Will you give lier this word. ? " / live by the faith of the 
 Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." 
 ' What is life 1 Union with Life. 
 
 ' How safe, how restful, how blessed the life that is a part 
 of Christ's life ! Cut off from the guilty past by His blood, 
 and having only to live in the present and in the future. 
 No death to the believer — it is all swallowed up. Even it 
 is life ! As at the end of the 23rd Psalm, there is no death 
 at all. It is leaped over, or left out, as about a thing which 
 is not ! 
 
 ' " Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days 
 of my life;" and then without a break, "I will dwell in 
 the house of the Lord for ever." 
 
 ' Is not Bunyan right in making " the valley of the 
 shadow " come long before the end — a time of distress done 
 away Avith before crossing the river? 
 
 ' May I add these few words for her, as she is able to 
 take them in ? 
 
 ' " Though He cause grief, yet will He have compassion ; " 
 and this other, " Happy is he who hath the Lord Jehovah 
 for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God." 
 ' Sin " cast into the depths of the sea," 
 ' " Nailed to the cross," 
 ' " Blotted out " for ever, 
 ' To be " remembered no more ; " 
 ' Yes, " remembered no more." ' 
 
 • 20th December. 
 ' Will you assure her most tenderly that Ave are constantly 
 asking for her that she may be feeling her Father's arm, 
 
266 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 seeing her Father's smile, resting on her Father's bosom. 
 No sorrow can visit lis but it has been in the heart of 
 Jesus first: "7 have prayed for thee that thy faith fail 
 not." 
 
 ' In Him our sins and sorrows die, but the love, the joy 
 live on for ever. I am trying to comfort myself with these 
 words, " He will not fail you, nor forsake you." ' 
 
 ' We are sharing our cross with Jesus, my dear . It 
 
 will never crush us, nor kill us, when we keep close to 
 Him.' 
 
 ' The Lord be your stay in this time of sore need. And 
 He will be so. He would have us depend on Him for each 
 thing we need, as we need it, knowing we are not to be 
 trusted with the keys. The supply is always ready for the 
 demand, and our great need the sure warrant for receiving. 
 We are brought into this crushed, ground-down state of 
 heavy woe, that we may trust in God, who raiseth the 
 dead.. Our pitiful Father is not so straitened in His under- 
 standing of our frame, as to require words from us to tell 
 Him what we feel and fear. He sees and knows our wJiole 
 state to be a prayer.' 
 
 Mr. Eobertson's people, while ' welcoming ' any 
 service he could render them, and ' desiring ' his fre- 
 quent presence among them, were willing to ' reckon 
 these as not obligatory, but voluntary ; ' and further, 
 ' left him unconditionally free to accept any temporary 
 engagement, which his health might permit, for render- 
 
EVENTIDE. 267 
 
 ing useful service to the cause of Christ at home or 
 abroad.' 
 
 In accordance with this agreement, he wrote soon 
 after, ' Much more preaching work pressing in upon 
 me than I can overtake.' 
 
 The Lord had a wider field of usefulness in store 
 for him ; and the two last years of his life became 
 years of happiest service, while he went from place to 
 place, sowing the seed everywhere. 
 
 A brother in the ministry, who spoke to him of 
 the change, and expressed his sympathy with him 
 in the trial it involved, remarked, in a semi-jocular 
 way, that he ' was retiring into public life ; ' and 
 then, in sober earnest, added, ' I think it very likely 
 that this is God's way of extending your usefulness.' 
 His testimony after Mr. Kobertson's death was : 
 ' Those who have been most observant of his course 
 during these last two years, and have known the 
 extent and variety of his labours, will be almost dis- 
 posed to say, I " did certainly divine ; " and when 
 God " writeth up the people," I think it not unlikely 
 that these two years will be found to have been as 
 fruitful as — perhaps more fruitful than — any other two 
 years of a ministry which has been greatly blessed.' 
 
 Opportunities were being constantly used. The 
 habits, fostered at home and at Tillicoultry, of steady, 
 conscientious, hard work had become the life of 
 habitual labour — a life in which self-indulgence was 
 left out of account to the very end. 
 
268 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 There was no disposition towards easy-chair Christi- 
 anity at any period. If this was the case in earlier 
 days, still more so was it after passing through his 
 ' great tribulation.' ' He sought relief — as he always 
 found pleasure — in his work.' Wherever he went, 
 as far as his powers allowed him, he continued, as 
 constantly and self-forgetfully as ever, to carry out 
 his Master's great commission : ' Preach the gospel 
 to every creature.' In railway train, in car, or on 
 the road, he had a word for every one. To miss a 
 friend on whom he was calling was a disappointment, 
 but it was taken as an occasion given to speak to the 
 one who opened the door. After he was gone, count- 
 less instances came to light of his being ever thus 
 ' about his Father's business,' and some entire strangers, 
 to whom he had spoken, called to seek further counsel, 
 not having heard of his departure. 
 
 On going out to preach on any occasion, his last 
 words to those left at home often were : ' Good-bye — 
 " prophesy to the wind." ' 
 
 About his evangelistic work he says : — 
 
 ' 26th July 1878. 
 
 ' Going to Inverness with Dr. Andrew Bonar, for a series 
 of joint services. Pray much for us. Have had a great 
 deal of blessed work in the North. "The Lord is good." 
 " A safe stronghold." 
 
 ' Preaching nearly every day — some twenty-six times of it 
 since coming, three weeks ago. It is a precious balm ! ' 
 
EVENTIDE. 2G9 
 
 We are indebted to the Eev. Dr. Andrew Bonar, 
 Glasgow, for the following reminiscences : — 
 
 ' He Avas ever watching, specially the last years of his life, 
 to get the truth lodged in the heart of those he met. 
 
 'A young friend was coming along Granville Street, 
 Glasgow, while he was on the other side. He crossed over, 
 and kindly stopped his young friend, asking, "Well, what 
 was your text to-day ? " No answer being given, he said, 
 *' I'll give you one to-day, and, the next time we meet, you'll 
 have one for me." ' 
 
 ' On a Sabbath evening, walking along Kent Koad, he 
 found two young women talking together. Standing still, 
 he asked, " Are there two of you, or three ? " They did not 
 seem to understand his question, so he said again, "Are 
 there only two, or is there a third with you, as there was 
 with the two going to Emmaus ? " 
 
 'Their reply was: "We were not talking of Him just 
 now, but we were talking of one whom we would like to see 
 brought to Him." 
 
 ' He at once rejoined, " Oh then, He'll count that the same 
 as if your conversation had been about Himself.'" 
 
 'He said one day, "A young, loving, lively Christian 
 carries ozone with her Avherever she goes. She makes the 
 air sweet about her." ' 
 
 ' It was rather a favourite saying of his : " Our lives 
 should be benedictions to men, and doxologies to God." ' 
 
 ' He used to tell of an aged Christian, who was near the 
 close of his pilgrimage, and seemingly unconscious, and to 
 whom a friend was one day quoting the passage (thus) : 
 "I know in whom I have believed, etc." The old disciple 
 
270 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 would not accept it so, but broke in with: "That's not it. 
 It's 'Iknoia luhom.^ I cannot allow even a preposition to 
 come between me and my Saviour." ' 
 
 ' In this connection Mr. Robertson spoke of nearness to 
 the Saviour at all times : "It will make our work worship, 
 and our service song ; our whole life a liturgy of thanks- 
 giving, and all our habits holiness to the Lord."' 
 
 ' At the Lord's table, one Sabbath, pointing to the broken 
 bread and the poured-out wine, his words were : " He 
 Himself is the Preacher now. That white-covered table is 
 His pulpit, anguish His argument, blood His eloquence." ' 
 
 'Frequently he brought out much meaning from a text 
 by a single touch. "'/ am black' (Cant. i. 5). Yes, this 
 is the autobiography of every believer." ' 
 
 ' How strong was his language regarding the doctrine of 
 substitution ! " Low thoughts of this truth lie at the root 
 of all our low religion. In these times many talk of it with 
 bated breath. They tell us that kindness is the key to the 
 human heart. They forget that there is another door, 
 conscience, for which even kindness has no key. ' Behold 
 the fire and the wood, but where is the Lamb ■? " 
 
 ' He spoke of this great doctrine as "the royal chariot in 
 which the spirit of revival loves to ride." ' 
 
 ' Occasionally in quiet conversation together, when the 
 subject had warmed our hearts, he would suddenly pass 
 into prayer, nor was there any abruptness in the transition.' 
 
 ' He excelled in addressing a Avorkers' meeting, or a 
 noon-day prayer-meeting. He did not prolong his address, 
 but always left something fresh and memorable. One day, 
 at one of these meetings, he opened his Bible at Ezek. 
 xlvii. 1, and called our attention to the circumstance that 
 
EVENTIDE. 271 
 
 'the waters. came down from the temple, at the south side 
 of the altar. Tliat river is going forth to heal and to 
 fertilize ; but, as it is flowing forth to us sinners, you see it 
 first aslis permission of the altar." ' 
 
 ' Another time : " Pardon is not a deed of love done when 
 God's other attributes are asleep. No ; all God's attributes 
 stand round the altar, giving consent." ' 
 
 ' In the closing period of his life and work, it pleased the 
 Lord to visit his servant with repeated bereavements, each of 
 which he felt most keenly. But the effect of these trials 
 was apparent to all Avho knew him. Under them he became 
 more tender, and not merely more subdued. He reminded 
 me of Zeph. iii. 2, by contrast; for he "received correc- 
 tion," — bowing before Him who laid His holy hand upon 
 him — and he " drew near to his God.'" ' 
 
 One minister, the Eev. Gavin S. Muir, formerly 
 of Grange, Banffshire, and now of Slateford, who, with 
 his people, shared in the ministrations of Mr. Eobertson's 
 visit to the north already referred to, says : — 
 
 'It was in July 1878 I asked him to help at our summer 
 communion, and to hold some evangelistic meetings after- 
 wards. There had been no such meetings in the district 
 before, and I was desirous that Mr. Eobertson should be 
 the first evangelist heard by the people, as I knew he would 
 produce on their minds a favovirable impression, as to the 
 possibilities of good in such services. I was not disai5pointed. 
 ISfight after night, in increasing numbers, and from remoter 
 distances, they came to hear " the old, old story," from his 
 lips. No immediate cases of conversion were visible, but 
 
272 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 more than one, afterwards brought in, traced first impres- 
 sions to that hallowed season, 
 
 ' What struck me most about his preaching was its " happy 
 Scripturalness." He sent away the people with the impres- 
 sion, " I never knew there was so much in the Bible on that 
 subject before. I must now study it for myself." 
 
 * And is not this the best kind of teaching 1 "What pro- 
 duces no mere passing impression, but sends the hearers 
 home to think for themselves 1 Certainly it is. Would we 
 had more of it ! 
 
 ' Of his society and influence in private, I need not speak. 
 Any who once enjoyed it longed to enjoy and benefit by it 
 again, ^^^lile with us he seemed literally to feed upon the 
 Word of God. It was truly to him " more than his neces- 
 sary food." He was constantly digging in the Bible as for 
 hid treasure, and whenever he found a golden text, or silver 
 thought, he did not hoard it, but put it into circulation at 
 once. He had the " evangelistic gift " most decidedly, and 
 he seemed to feel that the " breaking up of his home nest " 
 had been lovingly meant by God to set him free for labours 
 congenial to his desires and qualifications. 
 
 ' ]\Iay his mantle fall on others, and may the Church soon 
 have many such gifted preachers, " going about doing good," 
 gathering in precious souls, and handing them over to the 
 pastors to feed and build up in their most holy faith.' 
 
 Mr. Young says : — 
 
 *I had many opportunities of talking with him, as 
 to his Avork among the Churches. His diagnosis of the 
 spiritual condition of various parts of the country, and 
 the information he gained as to the needs of the people, 
 
EVENTIDE. 273 
 
 and the means employed to meet them, would have been of 
 great value, had he put them in writing. I remember hoAv 
 earnestly he talked of the great good done by some of our 
 ministers in quiet country places — remote corners, little 
 known to the Church ; and the necessity of maintaining 
 small congregations, even where others might be quite 
 near. 
 
 ' His own spirit was much refreshed by his visits to 
 country manses, and talks with brethren in the ministry 
 doing difficult work. In the last conversation I had with 
 him before his death, he said to me : " Had I known how 
 much service might be rendered to such brethren and their 
 congregations, and Avhat a field of work was open to me, I 
 would have asked the Presbytery, ten years ago, to loose 
 me from my congregation, and make me a minister at 
 large." 
 
 'During these years, he appeared, in different circum- 
 stances, two different men. Alone, or with friends who 
 talked of his trials, he seemed broken down, overburdened 
 with sorrow. But once out of his room, on a platform, or 
 in midst of work, he renewed his youth, and was as joyous 
 and bright as ever. It was a feature of his character, that 
 he gave himself to one thing at a time, and became absorbed, 
 for the time being, in the one thing. Hence it was of great 
 blessing to him, in his later days, to be drawn hither and 
 thither, to new fields of labour, which engrossed him, and, 
 for a little, lifted him out of himself.' 
 
 A tie was now to be broken, involving the severance 
 of an almost life-long friendship, and in reference to 
 this Mr. Robertson writes : — 
 
 s 
 
274 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 'August 1878. 
 
 '. . . I have no doubt lie will be kept in untroubled 
 calm, under the sunshine of a light that never shone on 
 earth or sea ; and only when Jesus pleases, there will come 
 the Everlasting Light, and the ceaseless rapture of the 
 immortals ! My fondest love to him, with the words, " A 
 stronghold in the day of trouble." " He knoweth them that 
 trust in Him." 
 
 *. . . "The Comforter "is with you; " kept by the power 
 of God." He gives patience and quietness, according to His 
 will — sweet and precious fruit, even in old age. 
 
 ' Is it not the land of Beulah on the verge of the river 1 
 So near the celestial city that yovi hear the songs of the 
 shining ones'? It is blessed to put down a Q.E.D. at the 
 end of the problem of life : "To shoio that the Lord is 
 upright" — that He has kept His promises. " He is a Kock, 
 the Rock of my defence — a dwcUing-'Rock." ' 
 
 Then came the last visit ; but he, whose delight on 
 seeing him, on previous occasions, seemed likely to 
 prove too much for the frail and failing tabernacle, 
 was now deaf to the words that used to charm, and 
 unable to respond any more to human friendship. 
 
 Mr. Eobertson led the thoughts of a sorrowing 
 group, gathered on the scene of the departure, in 
 the glad testimony to truth revealed and believed : 
 ' " He asked life of Thee, and Thou gavest it him " — 
 in this room — " even length of days for ever and ever." ' 
 
 A few days more, and, referring to the words he 
 had heard sung — with difficulty, and amid tears — at 
 
EVENTIDE. 275 
 
 his friend's grave, he wrote from London, on his way 
 to some evangelistic work in Paris : — 
 
 ' 20th September 1878. 
 
 '. . . "Asleep in Jesus." That strain is in my ear 
 continually. It links the two worlds— the happy present 
 with the happy future — the mystic power of an endless 
 Hfe. . . . 
 
 ' You will be enclosed in the cleft of the Rock, and will 
 see the shadow as it passes. He will be your arm every 
 morning, on which leaning you cannot faint. He will feed 
 you with such hidden manna, and make you so strong, that 
 the burden will feel light to you. He will take up both 
 you and your burden, as the shepherd carries the lamb on 
 his shoulders; and will bear you unscathed over all the 
 rough places. I know He will do it, in His own wise, holy, 
 perfect way — faithfully, abimdantly.' 
 
 Of his Paris work he wrote afterwards : — 
 
 'Clapham, 12th October 1878. 
 'Have had much enjoyment in fellowship with some 
 remarkable men — Pere Hyacinthe, M. Bersier, Canon Bell, 
 etc. etc. Time Avould fail to tell of all the delight I had in 
 the gospel work of — not Sabbaths only, but — every day.-"^ 
 
 1 A short, characteristic, and interesting account, from his own 
 pen, of the gospel work which Mr. Robertson saw, and in which he 
 was engaged, in Paris, appeared in the United Presbyterian- il/iSS(0Ma»7/ 
 Record of 1st May 1879, and was afterwards issued in a separate form 
 by Mr. Elliot, Princes Street, Edinburgh. In it he speaks of the Salle 
 Evangelique as ' a scene of sanctified delight,' in which ' we learned 
 to love, not our own regiment the less, but the gi-eat army more — 
 declaring and increasing the unity of our minds and hearts, as those 
 
276 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' Twenty-one times I had of it in fourteen clays. Yet no 
 harm have I felt ; it was all so cheering. 
 
 'Avidity for the truth is Avonderful. It has made my 
 broken bones rejoice, and has turned my valley of weeping 
 into a door of hope for France, 
 
 ' M'All's work, Miss de Broen's, and Miss Leigh's — all 
 very precious. Held meeting with the employes of the 
 Exhibition, was entreated to continue, but other engage- 
 ments hold me. Dr. M'Ewan's anniversary to-morrow ; 
 same service in Melrose next Sabbath ; ISTewington, 27th ; 
 Dr. Frew's, first Sabbath November; then Glasgow, Dum- 
 fries, Aberdeen, Banflf, Liverpool, etc' 
 
 ' 8 til November. 
 ' The gatherings at Dr. Frew's were large. Among them, 
 not a few who were scholars in Saturday and Sabbath 
 classes, in the old Greenhill days ; and in after conversa- 
 tion there were some touching proofs of precious fruit from 
 that early sowing,' 
 
 who have a common Father, a common hope, and a common 
 home.' 
 
 ' On reading this sketch,' says a ministerial brother, ' one is ready 
 to notice these three things : 1. What a golden pen Mr. Robertson 
 wrote with ; 2. with what Christian affection he regarded all who 
 were working in the service of the same Lord ; and 3. how cheerfully 
 he lent himself, " in season and out of season," to promote the cause 
 that was dear to him.' 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 1879. 
 
 CoNTEARY as it was, and repulsive, to Mr, Eobertson's 
 nature, to plan for an easy way of doing his work, yet, 
 in his wanderings now, he found it absolutely necessary 
 to take all precautions to avoid fatigue in walking. 
 
 In a letter to a friend, from Edinburgh, he says : — 
 
 ' 17th January 1879. 
 
 '. . . 1 write in bed, and with difficulty. I never 
 expected to see you again on this side the river ! 
 
 ' Seized here, during Tuesday night, with the most terrible 
 of the paroxysms I have ever had — heart at the bursting, 
 protracted agony for breath, then sinking into insensibility 
 for four or five hours, i 
 
 ' Yet the Rock did not fail me — did not tremble. 
 
 ' And the shadow has been turned once more. 
 
 ' The doctors speak of it as a very narrow escape. Praise 
 for the reign of superabounding grace. 
 
 ' I had communion work here on the Sabbath, and anni- 
 versary meeting on the Monday evening, visiting of sick on 
 Tuesday, when this spasmodic attack suddenly came at 
 midnight. 
 
 • He liad similar seizures repeatedly before, but this was much 
 worse than any previous one. 
 
278 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 '. . . Many a promise, written in sympathetic ink, we 
 cannot read, till the fire of trouble brings out the characters. 
 The farther we go down the shaft of affliction, the deeper 
 are we led into the gold mines of spiritual experience. 
 
 '. . . If Jesus seems to sleep in our vessel. He sleeps 
 with His hand on the helm, and will steer us homeward. 
 
 ' My heart is like a ploughed field — cross-ploughed. Not 
 one good thing has failed — not one single lock of which he 
 
 has not the key. You and dear will keep praying that 
 
 we may be enabled to sing, like the nightingale, in the night, 
 and Avhen the thorns are at our breast.' 
 
 During the illness referred to, he was in the house 
 of two of his oldest and most valued friends, who 
 nursed him with all tenderness and affection, until he 
 was able to return to Glasgow ; but some time passed, 
 after this seizure, before he was fit for work again ; 
 and it proved to be what he thought it — though those 
 whose lives were closely bound up with his were 
 strongly unwilling so to regard it — a warning of the 
 coming end. 
 
 In March he was once more able, though not very 
 strong, to venture from home on his much-loved and 
 abundant labours. 
 
 Early in May, ' he gave one of his genial and inter- 
 esting addresses to some thousands of young people in 
 the Glasgow City Hall, on the Temperance movement.' 
 
 About a month before he died, passing along Princes 
 Street, he shook hands hastily with two friends whom 
 he met, saying, * I would know your voices in heaven.' 
 
HOME. 279 
 
 Allusion was made to the death of some one in whom 
 they were mutually interested, and he parted, saying, 
 ' Heaven's filling fast ! ' 
 
 His last three Sabbaths were spent in Fife, Aber- 
 deen, and Barrhead. Of his own accord, he offered to 
 spend the week between the first and second, with 
 friends whose homes lay on his way between the two 
 places. Such an offer, being only too rare, was joy- 
 fully accepted. It was his parting visit. Part of it 
 was spent in the house from which he had chosen his 
 beloved wife. His last walk before leaving was to 
 the churchyard and the grave of his old friend, 
 where he had an evening talk with the few boys who 
 had come to ring the eight o'clock bell in the old church 
 tower — a talk about ' better things,' in no hackneyed 
 phrases, of no threadbare forms, natural, easy — words 
 to which the boys listened attentively, reverently. 
 
 In returning, rests had to be taken on the slightest 
 ascents in the way, to ease chest pain ; but this had 
 been so often the case, in previous years, that it was 
 no more thought of than usual. 
 
 In the calm, quiet, solemn talk with God in family 
 prayer at eventide, among other touching and impress- 
 ive sayings, these cannot be forgotten : — 
 
 ' " Thou art near, O Lord." ' 
 ' Trouble is near, but Thou art nearer ; ' 
 ' Sin is near, but Thou art nearer ; ' 
 ' Death, and judgment, and eternity are near, but 
 Thou art nearer.' 
 
280 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 On leaving, there were the kindly parting words to 
 the servants, as usual, in addition to previous talks. 
 ' Good bye, M. Walk with your hand in the pierced 
 hand of the Saviour. . . . Don't look in. Always be 
 looking out.' ' Good-bye, P. ; I'll hear all your verses 
 when I come back again.' He had said to her before, 
 ' Will you learn a verse every day, P. ? That will 
 be seven verses at the end of a week, you know, 
 and 365 in a year. It's nice to lie down at night 
 with a verse, and to find it on your pillow in the 
 morning, the first thing when you waken.' The learn- 
 ing was begun at once for his sake. 
 
 Well for us that we often say our last good-byes 
 without knowing of it ! Otherwise how much harder 
 they would be ! 
 
 After his Sabbath's work in Aberdeen, other claims, 
 unexpected, prolonged his work there for some days. 
 Then a short and often-promised visit was paid at 
 Arbroath, on his return journey to his Glasgow home, 
 which was reached on Friday. 
 
 In passing Stirling he turned aside for a few hours, 
 among the scenes and friends of his youth, visiting 
 the old church, which, from association, was ever dear 
 to him, and the little cottages on the Castle Hill, 
 where, in his student days, he had so often com- 
 forted the sick and the sorrowful. He called, in his 
 rapid, radiant way, at the house of an old and venerated 
 friend, where he found — what always cheered him — a 
 
HOME. 281 
 
 gathering of little children. After throwing himself, 
 with all the sympathy of his nature, into their sports 
 for a few minutes, he suddenly paused, and asked the 
 question (and none could more naturally make such 
 a transition), ' Which of you all loves Jesus most ? 
 Is it you, May ? or you, Sissy ? or you ? ' (naming each 
 in turn). ' There's an angel in this room, ready to go 
 up with the answer ! What will it be, I wonder ? ' 
 and after a few words of simple prayer, which the 
 youngest could understand, and ere the children had 
 recovered their surprise, he was off! 
 
 ' 'Twas even as if an angel shook his wings.' 
 His old friend, when telling the story afterwards, 
 said, ' Four days later, when the news came that lie 
 was taken up, we thought he must just have been the 
 angel himself.' 
 
 Saturday, 31st May, found him in Barrhead, leading 
 in prayer, and addressing, more than once, a Christian 
 conference, held there, in the afternoon, ' with great 
 unction and tenderness.' 
 
 We are told by the Rev. W. Clark, that on Sabbath 
 he spoke, in the first part of the forenoon service, 
 from Cant. ii. 8-17, specially to the young, for his 
 ' heart clung to them,' and ' because Jesus said to 
 Peter, " Feed My lambs," before He said, " Feed My 
 sheep." ' 
 
 Describing the whole passage as a ' basket of silver 
 filled with apples of gold,' he said, among other things. 
 
282 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 that ' the loving invitation " Come " was like a golden 
 clasp around the Bible.' On Monday he took away 
 eleven written answers to the questions given out at 
 this service. 
 
 His forenoon text (for the whole congregation) was 
 Zech. iii. 9 : 'I will remove the iniquity of that 
 land in one day ; ' from which he referred to the 
 finished work on Calvary, and to the Pentecostal out- 
 pouring afterwards, as the ' model ' of what God can 
 do, and of what we may expect. 
 
 In the intervals after the forenoon and afternoon 
 services, he rested in the vestry, to save the exertion 
 of walking ; but, hearing the sound of children's voices 
 singing a hymn in the session-house, he was drawn in 
 to say a word to the little ones there, and was found 
 giving them ' a handful of sweeties, which the more 
 they are sucked the larger they grow, and the more 
 they are given away the more we have to ourselves ! ' 
 ' God is love ! ' ' Christ is all.' ' It is finished.' 
 ' Look to Him.' ' Lovest thou Me ? ' 
 
 He also addressed a few loving words to the Sabbath 
 school in the church, on the love of Jesus — exhorting 
 scholars to look to the bleeding Lamb, and pointing 
 teachers to the starry crown, graciously held out to 
 His faithful servants. 
 
 At the evening service he made some beautiful 
 remarks on the 23rd Psalm, when oivin<T it out to be 
 sung ; and again supplied ' tender grass for the lambs ' 
 out of Zech. xiv. 20, 21. 
 
HOME. 283 
 
 His text was 2 Cor. iv. 6 : ' The face of Jesus Christ.' 
 He began by making a touching aUusion to the 
 faces of absent ones. At the close of one sentence 
 he was obliged to pause for a moment, evidently 
 overcome by his feelings, and then proceeded with 
 calmness and steadiness. He referred to the utter 
 unsatisfactoriness of all attempts at portraying the 
 face of Jesus by human skill, and said he would turn 
 the Bible lamp upon that face, and then described 
 it as — 
 
 ' Marred and mournful,' turning up and reading Isa. lii. 14. 
 ' Fair and lovely,' ,, ,, Ps. xlv. 2. 
 
 ' Once pale and shrouded in death,' ,, Johnxx. 7. 
 
 'Now bright with glory,' ,, Eev. i. 13-16. 
 
 ' A face that may be sought and found 
 
 by every one, here and now,' ,, Ps. xxvii. 8. 
 
 This was the last of a series of evangelistic services. 
 
 At its close, the preacher invited all who could to 
 remain, that he might further address them ; and 
 although the service had lasted an hour and three- 
 quarters, such a large number remained, both in the 
 gallery and area, that he continued for nearly half an 
 hour longer, lovingly applying the truth, whilst all 
 present were listening with rapt attention. Never 
 before was there such a largely-attended afkr-ijieet- 
 ing in the same church. 
 
 He had spoken more loudly and strongly in the 
 evening than in the forenoon, and no one sang more 
 
284 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 heartily and energetically at family worship than he. 
 The hymn sung was the 235th in the Presbyterian 
 Hymnal, and he expressed special delight in the lines — 
 
 ' I stand upon His merit, 
 I know no other stand ; ' 
 
 and also in the stanza beginning — ^ 
 
 ' With mercy and with judgment 
 My web of time He wove.' 
 
 Next morning, in a quiet talk, he asked one of the 
 young people of the manse if she had any text as a 
 motto, and, on receiving an answer, told her that the 
 favourite verse of his daughter Jessie was : ' Jesus, 
 who loved me, and gave Himself for me ; ' and re- 
 ferring to the Latin saying, 'Nulla dies sine versu,' 
 he said that our motto should be, ' Never a day with- 
 out a soul.' He told her of a French chemist, who 
 was said to take cupfuls of tears and turn them into 
 sugar, but that God turned sorrow into joy. 
 
 In course of conversation with another of the 
 family, he told her that when we were thorough 
 Christians, we were saved much temptation. People 
 would say, ' It is of no use trying him, he is thorough.' 
 He ended the conversation by saying, ' The Lord bless 
 thee, and keep thee : the Lord make His face shine 
 upon thee, and be gracious unto thee : the Lord lift 
 up His countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.' 
 
 On leaving that day, he was accompanied to the gate 
 by the whole family, and he said this was ' an apostolic 
 
HOME. 285 
 
 convoy.' He would be back again ' any day.' His 
 presence is still real and living in the scene of his final 
 ministerial labours, and the feeling of privilege and 
 favour is still strong in that home that enjoyed the 
 society and ministrations of so holy and loving and 
 heavenly a servant of God over the last Sabbath of 
 his life. On the way to the train he and Mr. Clark 
 visited an aged sick person with whom he had been 
 acquainted long before, when she was a nurse in the 
 family of the late Rev. Dr. John Brown of Edinburgh. 
 He left Barrhead between one and two o'clock. 
 
 About half-past two, he reached what he playfully 
 called his Appii Forum — resting-place by the way — 
 in Glasgow. On his arrival, there was, as usual, the 
 few minutes' talk with the cabman — some of the way- 
 side sowing — then he entered the house in his warm, 
 bright way, and began to tell of his hapj^y visit to 
 Barrhead. 
 
 In his youth he had written, ' I wish, with Arch- 
 bishop Usher, to die with the words of the publican 
 on my lips ; with Mrs. Eowe, to die on my knees ; 
 with Stephen, to die calling on God, and saying, 
 " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." ' 
 
 Somewhat late he retired to his own room, to write 
 some letters, which were to be posted in the morning. 
 The closing words of one of them, to a brother in the 
 ministry, were : ' How fast our days are running ! 
 May the Lord surprise you in all your work with the 
 richness of His blessing ! ' 
 
286 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Shortly before midnight his bell rang sharply, 
 summoning his friends to his room, when he was 
 found to be suffering from one of his heart spasms. 
 
 ' This is serious,' was his remark on seeing them. 
 He was able only to utter a few loving messages to 
 the absent, and to his ' dear congregation.' 
 
 After prayer had been ofiered on his behalf, he 
 quoted the well-remembered words, ' Jesus only,' ' who 
 loved me, and gave Himself for me,' adding, with his 
 dying breath, and with much emphasis, ' Precious 
 blood.' Restoratives were unavailing, and by the 
 time the hastily-called medical attendant had arrived, 
 consciousness had gone, and about midnight he was 
 ' beyond the flood, within the veil, before the throne.' 
 
 ' He was not, for God took him.' 
 
 ' Tlie quiet chamber where the Christian sleeps, 
 And where from day to day he prays and weeps, 
 How near it is to all his faith can see, 
 How short and easy may the passage be ! 
 One gentle sigh — one feeble struggle o'er, 
 May land him safe on that eternal shore. ' 
 
 A few days later, the mournful procession wended 
 its way from the Newington Church, up the ' Via 
 Dolorosa,' as he used to call the road leading towards 
 that beautiful garden of the dead, the Grange 
 Cemetery ; and, as the precious dust was laid to rest, 
 the melody of the children's voices broke the silence 
 and the sobs, as they sang — 
 
 * There is a better world, they say. 
 Oh, so bright ! ' 
 
'£ fajas bitf) gou in iucafencss, autt in fear, anti in mucJj 
 trembling. 
 
 "EnU tng spcccfj anti mg prtacljing Inas not bjttfj enticing iuorUs 
 of man's tuisliom, tut in demonstration of tfje Spirit anU of 
 poSaer ; 
 
 ' Efjat gour faitf) sfjoulU not stanlj in tfje SuisUom of men, but in 
 tfjc pobier of ©oil.' 
 
 238 
 
Sjjort ^ai3tno[S. 
 
 A FEW gatherings from earlier papers, previous to his 
 ministry : — 
 
 "We find him writing : ' The British " Verse-a-day 
 Association," with which I have this morning con- 
 nected myself (28th January 1832), is an evidence 
 of some stirring excitement. The practice is quite 
 analogous to that of gathering the manna in the 
 morning.' 
 
 His characteristic style begins to appear very early 
 in his occasional remarks. For example — speaking of 
 chastisement — ' God forbid that when the rod is so 
 vocal, I may refuse to hear its message to me.' 
 
 ' Oil, He can clear the darkest skies, 
 Can give me day for night ; 
 Make streams of sacred sorrow rise 
 To rivers of delight. ' 
 
 He writes : ' I have come from witnessing a dying 
 scene. It outpreaches the loudest preachers.' 
 
 ' We pray for a blessing on our daily rod, as well 
 as on our daily bread.' 
 
 ' I have no indemnity from disappointment and 
 
290 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 defeat ; but I have a pledge that they shall be 
 salutary.' 
 
 ' It is the hungry Thou fillest. To buy in this 
 market is to hcg. " Buy without money and without 
 price." ' 
 
 Speaking of what ought to be the terms of ad- 
 mission to the Lord's table, he says : ' Who would not 
 open his arms to receive, at this marriage feast, those 
 people he would rejoice to sit down with at the 
 celestial supper of the Lamb ! ' 
 
 ' . . . That uniform purity of motive which saves 
 from that grand source of embarrassment — the fear of 
 man.' 
 
 ' To do good, and to receive evil, is the lot of every 
 one who will follow in the footsteps of the Saviour.' 
 
 ' Give us the heavenly use of earthly things. Let us 
 not, like many profane Esaus, for a mess of pottage 
 sell our inheritance.' 
 
 ' There is a bank of Providence, which dishonours 
 presumption, but which honours faith — a bank which 
 is shut to indolence, imprudence, and carelessness, but 
 which is open to diligence, wisdom, and prayer.' 
 
 ' To barter away the joys and comforts of the favour 
 of God, for the manifold misery of those who cannot 
 stand in judgment — " no madness half so desperate as 
 this." ' 
 
 ' It is a divine art to preach to our own hearts what 
 we find in the book of God, and to make it answer 
 the purpose of exercising devout affections.' 
 
SHORT SAYINGS. 291 
 
 ' If ever there is a time when the integrity of a 
 sincere minister is severely tried, it is when he goes to 
 the house of mourning, to soothe a doating parent 
 bereft of a child, at the age of maturity, who, while 
 the state of mind and course of habits of neither have 
 been those of one on the way to heaven, is administer- 
 ing to himself the opiate of a false consolation, that 
 the beloved lost one is gone thither. He talks per- 
 haps as if the sufferings of the body had procured the 
 salvation of the soul. He is keeping himself easy, or 
 looking wistfully for comfort. How shall the friend 
 heal the wound without lulling the soul of the sur- 
 vivor into security ? Oh, it is a propitious moment 
 for making an impression ! ' 
 
 ' To have our own desire is "of all others ' the most 
 formidable fate," With such prosperity He may send 
 leanness to our soul. Wlien Jonah in his flight came 
 down to the seashore, he found a ship just ready to 
 sail. Was that a test of Jonah's innocence, or of the 
 Divine approbation ? ' 
 
 ' As creatures we have no right, and as believers — 
 as new creatures — we have no reason, to murmur.' 
 
 ' Why do we recognise the good as fellow-Christians 
 in the parlour, but treat them as heathen men and 
 publicans at the table of the Lord ? ' 
 
 ' His unsearchable sovereignty silences — His un- 
 searchable love satisfies me.' 
 
 ' Nature said, " Curse God and die ; " but grace 
 whispered, " Trust God and live." ' 
 
292 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' Let us prefer the unspeakable satisfaction of finding 
 where truth lies, to the pitiful distinction of appearing 
 drenched in the petrifying waters of a party, and vin- 
 dicating our own waywardness.' 
 
 ' Let me think of my own frailties. For every one 
 such in another I will find two in myself ; nor will 
 they be far to seek.' 
 
 * It is religion alone that can blunt the arrows of 
 pain, and brighten the gloom of calamity.' 
 
 ' Various sects maintain a sleepless jealousy of each 
 other's treatment of the word of God, and thus jointly 
 afford a pledge for the purity of the great fountain of 
 truth. If that Bible were read by angels in heaven, 
 it would occasion no discordant sentiments and feelings 
 there. It is to our depravity that all sectarianism is 
 to be traced.' 
 
 ' Let us endeavour to ascertain the literal or first 
 meaning of a text before we look on any other. This 
 is the foundation on which every other sense must 
 rest ; and it will, when known, exceedingly assist us 
 in obtaining a clear, full, and useful view of any 
 deeper meaning, or any practical improvement which 
 the passage may afford or impart.' 
 
 ' I am resolved to read scarcely one of the trouble- 
 some mosquito-swarm of polemic letters, and replies, 
 and appeals, and vindications, and inquiries, that flit 
 past me every day. The maxims of the fiery lovers of 
 contention are in flagitious contrast to apostolic precept 
 and example. . . .' 
 
SHORT SAYINGS. 293 
 
 ' The credit of Christianity, as well as the healing and 
 purity of the Church, eminently call for none to stand 
 forward on the field day, but those who have greatness 
 enough of spirit to pass by the littleness of personal 
 attack, who have coolness and meekness of wisdom 
 enough never to misstate an opponent, never to adduce 
 a doubtful fact, or overcharge a true one, — ^-in short, to 
 ' strive lawfully.' It may be hoped that the atmo- 
 sphere of the Church will not be darkened with 
 swarms of irascible spirits, that eat up everything 
 green and pleasant.' 
 
 ' It need not follow that the sober, solid defence of 
 truth should become matter of indifference.' 
 
 ' It is disheartening to think of the small, stinted, 
 shrivelled souls that cry " Home, Home," and would 
 shut up Christianity in a little corner. God says, 
 " Go, preach to every creature." Satan says, and his 
 emissaries on earth say, " What have we to do with 
 every creature ? Let us do what our hand findeth to 
 do at home." Who is on the Lord's side ? and who 
 on Satan's ? ' 
 
 ' They have plenty to spend on noxious drugs and 
 superfluous refinements, but, when we apply for some- 
 thing to put into the Christian treasury, they assure 
 us they have nothing to spare. The world and the 
 Church should be as distinct as the sun, moon, and 
 stars from the clods of the valley.' 
 
294 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Eater Sagtngs. 
 
 ' All is needful that He sends ; nothing can be 
 needful that He withholds.' 
 
 ' Paul says of the " thorn in the flesh, the messenger 
 of Satan," " there was given me." Yes, even a messenger 
 from Satan is a gift and a mercy, however unwel- 
 come, when the Lord elicits from his visit " our 
 sanctification." ' 
 
 ' Simple remedy of sin and sorrow, to believe the 
 love of God ! We do not run as we ought in the 
 way to heaven, because we do not love, and we do 
 not love because we do not know how much we arc 
 loved! 
 
 ' The afflicted, like the poor, we have always with us, 
 till death is swallowed up in victory.' 
 
 ' God keeps a school for His children here on earth, 
 and one of His best teachers is named Disappointment 
 — a rough old pedagogue, stern in tone, and harsh in 
 handling, but his lessons are well worth all that they 
 cost.' 
 
 ' It is a very easy thing to be a modern Christian, 
 but a very difficult thing to be a Scriptural one.' 
 
 ' Let me no longer resist or hinder Divine communi- 
 cations, or seek delight without God — seek joy and 
 sweetness in the gall of bitterness — the living in the 
 place of the dead.' 
 
 ' Holiness in the soul from its beins a grain of mus- 
 
SHORT SAYINGS. 295 
 
 tard seed to the tallness and greenness of the cedar in 
 Lebanon, must be Thy doing, Spirit of the Lord.' 
 
 ' May the Lord find His " whole armour " on us, and 
 help us to keep it bright by constant use.' 
 
 ' It looks like a contradiction, and yet how true, 
 ' " Take My yoke, and you shall find rest." ' 
 ' " The hurdcn I impose shall case the heart." ' 
 
 ' How sweet the gift ! " My peace." It is heart's 
 ease — a house on a rock — heaven begun ! ' 
 
 ' Dread . . . turning aside after " the instruction 
 that causeth to err ; " or taking up with something 
 that looks like conversion, but is not ; or with that 
 empty formal profession, which pacifies so many 
 people's fears, and lets them keep their sins.' 
 
 ' Though sin molest me as an enemy, never shall I, 
 through grace, harbour it as a friend.' 
 
 ' Carnality of mind is in the inverse ratio in which 
 it is felt.' 
 
 ' My religion is at a low ebb when I please myself 
 with the discharge of external duties.' 
 
 ' Can my sincerity in religion stand the test of 
 seclusion ? ' 
 
 ' May our fiery trials embitter sin and earth, and 
 endear holiness and heaven ! ' 
 
 ' What joys we have ly the way ! but the moment 
 we rest in them, they become, like the quails to 
 Israel, poison.' 
 
 ' Oh that our eye may never be taken off the " rest 
 that remaineth." Eest is not our portion here at 
 
296 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 all. His Jwlincss will not let us rest where there is 
 sin. His love will not let us rest where there is 
 sorrow. There remaineth a rest for us — God's own 
 rest. There will be neither sin nor sorrow there. 
 There will be Himself there, and we shall rest in 
 Him! 
 
 'Friendship with the Lord Jesus is a calmly con- 
 fiding thing. It is in no hurry to judge anything 
 " before the time " when the mystery of His providence 
 shall be completed and explained.' 
 
 ' A minister cannot do a kinder thing than occa- 
 sionally go down amongst his hearers with his 
 spiritual stethoscope.' 
 
 ' Spiritual decline is a disease which ought to be 
 zealously watched.' 
 
 ' To ascend the pulpit is an honour more noble, 
 a joy more pure, than even going up the steps of an 
 earthly throne, to wear an earthly crown.' 
 
 ' " Christ died," " Christ rose again." These are 
 the caskets in which are contained the gems of the 
 sinner's salvation.' 
 
 ' If ye be not saved, it will be for any reason 
 rather than that you had no Saviour.' 
 
 ' Is not this communion-table the mutual forget-me- 
 not between Jesus and His friends ? ' 
 
 ' I fear the effect of sermons is often blighted by 
 parental levity or criticism of ministers on the way 
 home.' 
 
 ' I look on every church member as a talent 
 
SHORT SAYINGS. 297 
 
 given me from God, and He is saying to me : 
 " Occupy till I come." ' 
 
 ' We do not receive because we ask not ; we do not 
 ask because we do not feel ; we do not feel because 
 we do not believe.' 
 
 ' Don't mock God by asking Him in prayer for what 
 you do not want.' 
 
 ' Clouds of blessing are over our head. Will not 
 our united prayers bring the blessing down ? ' 
 
 * " For ever with the Lord." Isn't that one of the 
 hymns that make us feel home-sick ? ' 
 
 ' I believe it is easier to go about during a lifetime 
 and preach day and night, than to sit still and bear 
 God's rod with calm resignation.' 
 
 * Some people, when they get up in the world, 
 forget their old friends. Though Jesus has " gone up 
 on high," He forgets none, not even the least.' 
 
 Some sentences from sermons preached on a Fast- 
 day in CoUace in 1854 : — 
 
 Speaking on Psalm xliii. 4 — ' I will go to the 
 altar of God, to God my exceeding joy ' — he said : * Too 
 many go to the Lord's table forgetting God beyond it 
 — as if coming to the Jingcr-'post loerc reaching the toton' 
 
 On another text : ' Beat religion is cm echo, an 
 echo of God's testimony in the soul.' 
 
 ' In the blood of Christ sins will sink, and the 
 sinner will swim.' 
 
298 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 ' The life of the imforgiven man is one great 
 funeral procession.' 
 
 'All Christians must work. What would happen 
 in battle if only the officers fought ? ' 
 
 ^ints Iiropp£t( at ^kk Bets. 
 
 ' To recollect a promise of the Bible to the chief of 
 sinners — this is substance.' 
 
 ' The Bible gives us something to Jiold. " It is I, be 
 not afraid." No comfort enters sick curtains from any 
 other quarter.' 
 
 ' He thinks thoughts of peace, while I indulge 
 thoughts of evil. He intends us better than we give 
 Him credit for.' 
 
 ' I hope I know my refuge and fly to it. I find my 
 foundation able to bear me.' 
 
 ' Is God your end, Christ your way, and the Spirit 
 your guide ? ' 
 
 ' He that sends the storm is steering the vessel, is 
 He not ? ' 
 
 * We see how we should live, perhaps an hour before 
 we die.' 
 
Extracts from betters. 
 
 Extracts from letters to a young friend in his con- 
 gregation, beginning with personal teaching, and 
 guiding, during a series of years, in labours of Christian 
 usefulness : — 
 
 ' They were golden words that Legh Eichmond 
 uttered, when not far from the end of his pilgrimage : 
 " It is only by coming to Jesus as a little child, and 
 as for the first time, that I can get peace at any 
 moment." It was not from his present holy feelings, 
 or from anything about himself at all, that he main- 
 tained his cheerful piety, but hourly, momentarily, he 
 came, as he had come at first, to Jesus, " as a little 
 child ; " and by thus " holding fast " what gave him 
 confidence at the first, he kept his confidence " firm 
 unto the end." Does not the work of Jesus take for 
 granted that you and I are vjhat we arc, and nothing 
 else ? The multitude of our temptations, the black- 
 ness of our guilt, only make the open mercy-seat the 
 more suitable for us both. Blessed be God, we can 
 feel safe, and yet remember that we are vile ; we can 
 approach the blood-sprinkled throne boldly, without 
 
 ■><J9 
 
300 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 forgetting how vile we are. Let us ever take our 
 stand side by side with the publican, the prodigal, the 
 dying thief, owning that in ourselves we are vile as 
 they, and as deeply indebted to the riches of redeem- 
 ing grace.' 
 
 ' " Satan hath desired to have thee," my dear friend, 
 " that he may sift thee as wheat." Wheat in the 
 sieve, and the sieve in the hand of the great adver- 
 sary ! What can seem more helpless than that ? 
 But Jesus has been beforehand with him. "I have 
 prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not." Satan 
 watches to destroy you and me. Jesus watches to 
 save us. Satan hates, Jesus loves. Satan is cunning, 
 Jesus is all-wise. Satan is strong, Jesus is omni- 
 potent. " Besist the enemy, and he will flee from 
 you." " Resist" by presenting Jesus to him — Jesus, 
 as having conquered for you. Present Jesus, in the 
 greatness of the work He has accomplished, in the 
 fulness of grace treasured up in Him, and the 
 victory will be half-achieved before you begin to 
 fight. Never can you be so strong as when casting 
 your very weakness on Him — hanging on Him — 
 trusting Him, " according to His word." Go to the 
 God of love, in the name of Jesus, and with the sword 
 of that word He will smite the tempter, and he cannot 
 but " flee." " Whom resist, stedfast in the faith." 
 Every other grace brings something. Faith brings 
 nothing but an empty hand, and receives a full Christ.' 
 
EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 301 
 
 ' Indeed, I know no other Eefuge than God in 
 Christ. . , . And what other way can there be of 
 entering that Eefuge than simple trust ? ... Is not 
 the Scripture so worded as precisely to teach us this ? 
 " They looked unto Him, and were lightened." " Look 
 unto Me, and be ye saved." " Let not your heart be 
 troubled." Why ? Where is the antidote ? " Ye 
 believe in God, believe also in Me." ' 
 
 ' Yes, in Jesus we have all, in ourselves nothing. It 
 is not on our own experience we must try to live, but 
 on Jesus alone. The well of salvation is not within us, 
 but without ; and from its exhaustless depths we must 
 draw and drink for ever.' 
 
 ' The sole but sure support of the heart, under down- 
 casting and deep heaviness, is realizing by faith " the 
 Lord our Eighteousness." ' 
 
 'Being justified by faith in this truth, we have 
 peace with God, and that peace makes the soul 
 strong both for doing and suffering our Father's 
 will. 
 
 ' Dwell much on the idea of grace, reigning, royal 
 grace, — grace to the chief of sinners, — grace coming 
 through such a glorious channel, over all the moun- 
 tains of sin. " He is 7icar that justifieth me, ivho shall 
 contend with me ? " We plead " guilty before God," 
 inexcusably guilty ; — and yet, as standing in Jesus, 
 we may plead " not guilty ; " for His grace has 
 redeemed us from the sin to which we pleaded guilty 
 
302 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 before. " This is the victory that overcometh " de- 
 pressions, misgivings, despondencies — " even our 
 faith ; " and our faith overcometh by identifying us 
 with " Jesus Christ the Righteous." ' 
 
 ' Hearts beating high with love to Christ and love 
 to souls can only be the result of a close walk with 
 God. Therefore, with all my heart do I accord with 
 the longing you express for " a closer walk," for 
 having our spiritual affections so cleansed and elevated, 
 that we shall love, with a deep, earnest love, all holy 
 things. — " To be spiritually minded is (indeed) life and 
 peace " — to be so imbued, penetrated, and possessed by 
 the Spirit of God, that sin shall be shunned and loathed, 
 not merely from principle, but from taste ; and then, 
 towards thoughts and exercises that have in them 
 anything of a Divine element, we turn with a 
 readiness and vivacity which indicate the sweetest 
 harmony between ourselves and them. This is 
 " glorious liberty," the liberty of being bound to 
 God ; but it is a liberty which nothing can main- 
 tain or cherish, except growing familiarity with the 
 Atoning Blood, and the sweet savour of the Great 
 Sacrifice.' 
 
 ' We need not disturb the seed in order to see it 
 grow. The harvest ivill come, though no springing 
 blade now appear to gladden the sower's eye. How 
 often, unknown to us, must blessed spirits round the 
 throne be called upon to strike their sweetest notes 
 
EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 303 
 
 over prodigals returned ! We hope to hear their 
 anthems and to join in them ere long.' 
 
 ' Giving up our own will to be conformed to His ! 
 It is the best, the only liberty. And we " are called 
 unto liberty," as well as " unto holiness." Yea, 
 we shall abound in holiness just in proportion as 
 we realize our blood -bought liberty, — "the liberty 
 wherewith Christ hath (not will at length, but 
 " hath " already) made us free." ' 
 
 ' (Caledonian Canal.) 
 
 ' No lack of leisure here, where, for two full days, 
 we have been meeting with the not-unusual friendly 
 salutation of these West Highlands — an " even-down 
 pour." We are kept almost close prisoners in our 
 cabin, and only from the windows can we catch 
 glimpses of the high — the deep — the vast — of what 
 is beautiful and what is awful ; but how wondrously 
 fitted they all are to feed, by ceaseless novelty, the 
 fire of devotion ! Might not half the number of blades 
 of grass, and trees, and flowers have availed, if our God 
 had restricted His goodness to what was just sufficient ? 
 But this is not His measure. Both in nature and in 
 grace. He giveth exceeding abundantly above all that 
 we can ask or think. It is not solitude to be in 
 the presence of Him who " fiUeth all in all " — who 
 " weighs the mountains in scales, and the hills in a 
 balance." ' 
 
 ' Oh that He, who has " set His heart on tnan," may 
 
304 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 inspire us with a larger portion of His own boundless 
 and tender charity ! Can we set our hearts too 
 yearningly on the bringing of some of His many 
 sons to glory ? ' 
 
 To another : — 
 
 ' I was disappointed at the failure of our joint 
 scheme. . . . Since we have taken the Lord to be 
 our wisdom, though He may see fit to lead us 
 by roads both rough and roundabout, yet quite sure 
 we are that His guidance of us all our journey 
 through is wondrously wise, yea, more than any 
 other could be, wondrously adapted to bring us in 
 safety to our journey's end. This is a life of 
 waiting, and waiting on the Lord we " shall renew 
 our strength, run and not be weary, walk and not 
 faint." 
 
 ' I have been preaching on Satan's devices, and his 
 " fiery darts," and it is our rich comfort to know that 
 even these our Father — our reconciled Father — turns 
 into ploughshares and pruning hooks, for the culture 
 of the soul, and for the increase of the fruits of 
 holiness. However hard the fight be, however sore 
 the stroke we get from the enemy, " all is safe " (as 
 old John Welch of Ayr said) " so long as the heart 
 is guarded by the breastplate of righteousness." 
 Yes, it is simple, hearty cleaving unto Jesus as our 
 all for righteousness, and dealing trustfully with the 
 blood of Christ, which maintains in the conscience the 
 
EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 305 
 
 blessed reign of peace, which is the grand secret of 
 all spiritual power, and all prosperous achievement 
 Truly the liberty of God's children is " glorious 
 liberty." The joy of the Lord is strength. Joy is a 
 means of grace to us, and prepares us for receiving 
 more abundantly gospel consolations.' 
 
 ' . . . Christ is our life- — the more we know and 
 believe this, the greater vitality shall be imparted to 
 all our movements. Our life is in heaven, beyond the 
 reach of wounds, subject to no changes, weakened by 
 no time, " hid with Christ in God." Satan cannot 
 find it, far less destroy it. " God is the strength of 
 my life, of whom shall I be afraid ? " Let us stir 
 each other up to live for glory, and " so much the 
 more as we see the day approaching." ' 
 
 From letters to Mrs. D. : — 
 
 ' What a heart-quieter that is, " Even so. Father " ! 
 
 ' . . . I trust you are experiencing more and more 
 of that rejoicing confidence in God which extin- 
 guishes the fear of terror, and keeps alive the fear of 
 sin. The truth about Christ's love in dying for us, so 
 far from being a soporific, is the very stimulus to 
 holiness, changing it from a thing of force to a thing 
 of freedom, from being a service of drudgery to being 
 a service of delight.' 
 
 '. . . If we think of God only as a righteous Law- 
 u 
 
306 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 giver and Judge, invincible in power to punish us for 
 our sins, the idea of His presence must be oppressively 
 awful. If we have only vague views of His general 
 mercy, His presence will in no way attract us. 
 But when we see Him in Jesus as Just and yet 
 the Justifier, not clearing the guilty by any means, 
 yet forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, then 
 His very justice and holiness become winning — we 
 flee to Him with wondering confidence. With a 
 reverence of His character which enhances our joy, 
 we hide beneath the shadow of His wing. It is 
 just in proportion as we keep full in view His 
 gracious, holy character, as our reconciled Father in 
 Christ, that the recollection of His presence will 
 inspire us with delight, and make our path through 
 life all radiant.' 
 
 ' I fondly trust, my dear friend, that you are so much 
 in the habit of referring everything to God as a personal 
 Friend in Christ, that the reference has become as it 
 were instinctive — that no special effort of mind is now 
 needed to recall the nearness of God, that you feel 
 sweetly conscious of it as you do of the light and 
 warmth of day. . . . Let us live at no uncertainty as 
 to our state before God, and let us be satisfied with 
 nothing less and nothing lower than the clear, deep 
 seal of the Spirit that we are Christ's. The more you 
 have of this, you will get the faster on, on your way 
 to heaven. 
 
EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 307 
 
 To a ministerial friend under bereavement : — 
 
 'I scarcely know whether most to congratulate you on 
 having had such a mother, or condole with you on having 
 lost her. . . . 
 
 ' I am glad you had the satisfaction of being beside her, 
 during these days which brought her pilgrimage to a close, 
 and when, through the growing shades, eternity was begin- 
 ning to cast upon her its mysterious gleams. How 
 unabated is our ignorance ! How hopeless is our inquisit- 
 ivenesG, after we have accompanied to the dark frontier 
 of that great world those who so lately lived with us, and 
 like us ! How little we can descry of the manner of their 
 existence, who now live to die no more ! But this ignor- 
 ance of ours will not last long. How soon must our own 
 accounts be audited in the presence of the great White 
 Throne ! . . . 
 
 ' It is well for us, dear , to feel keenly that there are 
 
 points of far deeper importance than the mere ouhoard work 
 of the ministry. To turn in from the world upon oneself, 
 and upon God, — to turn over the pages of our own heart, 
 and to find relief from nature's anguish by going direct to 
 Jesus, — these are the exercises which string the soul for 
 active service. May our eyes be ever kept open to the vain 
 show of the things of earth, and the vastness of things eternal ! 
 May Jesus draw us closer and closer yet to His own pierced 
 side, that thence we may tell out the " glad tidings," and 
 that thither Ave may draw poor souls that are straying far 
 from their rest ! 
 
 ' And of their joy and ours, departed friends in Jesus shall 
 be the happy partakers.' 
 
308 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 To a bereaved friend : — 
 
 ' ... It is a great thing to feel prayer our privilege. 
 We vmy go. But is it not better stiU to feel it our necessity ? 
 We must go. Theri there is real depth, life, and meaning 
 in our prayers. We are conscious of real wants, and we 
 wait for real answers. " Lord, from the depths to Thee 
 I cry." ' 
 
Sermons to (fTftiltirtm 
 
 Jctoels. 
 
 Before reading the text, shall I tell you, my dear 
 young friends, how very much I love you, and how 
 glad it makes my heart to see your sunny faces. 
 
 Who is the happiest child in this house ? Who ? 
 
 I could answer that question, even though I had 
 never seen the child, and though I don't know its 
 name. The happiest child here is the child who 
 reads the Bible most, believes the Bible most, and 
 loves the Bible most. 
 
 My boy, is that you ? If so, I expect that you'll 
 be standing in the pulpit some day, and preaching 
 children's sermons. And one of the difficulties of 
 doing it you'll find to be, the difficulty of fixing on 
 a text. There's such a variety in the Bible. The 
 Bible is a tree with so many widespreading branches, 
 and twigs, and leaves. You have been admiring 
 beautiful Christmas trees. But come and see this 
 wondrous tree of heaven. 
 
 The branches of this tree are the books of the 
 Bible. How many in the Old Testament? (39.) 
 And in the New? (27.) 
 
310 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Add these together, and you have a tree with how- 
 many branches ? (66.) Then this tree has got twigs, 
 and the twigs are the chapters, 1189 of them. There 
 are leaves too on the Bible tree. Every verse is a 
 leaf. There are 31,173 leaves waving here in all 
 their beauty, for they are ' always green.' 
 
 And the tree is all laden, laden with fruit. See 
 the rich clusters. How low they bend ! Any little 
 child may pluck them. And you may eat as much 
 as you please. 
 
 Come and let us sit together a little while under 
 the shadow of the tree of life, and may we find sweet 
 to our taste the fruit which grows on the branch now 
 by me — the third twig of the last branch of the Old 
 Testament. 
 
 Malachi iii. What little scholar will be so kind as 
 read for me at the 1 6th leaf ? ' Then they that feared 
 the Lord spake often one to another: and the Lord 
 hearkened, and heard it ; and a book of remembrance 
 was written before Him for them that feared the 
 Lord, and that thought on His name.' 
 
 Ver. 17?' And they shall be mine, saith the Lord 
 of hosts, in the day when I make up my jewels ; and 
 I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that 
 serveth him.' 
 
 We're not going to take the whole of that for our 
 text. No. We'll only pick out, at present, a few 
 words that lie in the middle of the l7th verse. 'The 
 day when I make up my jewels.' 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 311 
 
 Or, it may help you, very little ones, to remember 
 it all the better, if we just take these two words : 
 ' My jewels.' 
 
 It is the last Sabbath of the year. The last 
 Sabbath's sun has set. How many months is it since 
 we met the old year first ? How many weeks is 
 that ? We have had a long series of Sabbath services 
 and Sabbath-school meetings since this time twelve 
 months ; and these all, with their voices of love and 
 mercy, of warning and instruction, will presently be 
 gone — gone, with their account, to God, their account 
 of the manner in which they have been used. 
 
 It was the thought of this last day that led me to 
 think of that last day — the day when Jesus shall 
 make up His jewels. 
 
 All the Sabbaths of this year Jesus has been stretch- 
 ing out His hands. Many a message has He sent by 
 me, rising up early and sending. Yet are there not some 
 unsaved ? The year about ended, and you not saved ! 
 And is His patience worn out ? No. His hands are 
 stretched out still. And, on this last Sabbath of the 
 year, He stands and cries, ' How shall I give you up, 
 sinners — how give you up ? ' As if the more careless 
 some souls become, the more concerned He is for 
 them. He stands and cries more loudly, more clearly, 
 more freely than ever : ' I want you to believe My 
 love.' 
 
 ' My jewels.' Of lohom is He speaking ? Is it of 
 seraphs ? Is it of angels ? No. It is of sinful 
 
312 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 children of the dust, once rude, unshapely stones, 
 lying in the horrible pit and the miry clay, amid 
 the rubbish of corruption ; but His love has sought 
 and found them, and raises them to gem, throughout 
 eternity, the Brow that once was wreathed with 
 thorns. 
 
 Converted children are the jewels of Jesus ; and 
 there's a day coming when Jesus will make up His 
 jewels. 
 
 What was it ? Converted children are the jewels 
 of Jesus. 
 
 And I name to you as many reasons as there are 
 fingers on that hand why they are called His jewels. 
 
 Because they are precious. Because they shine. 
 Because they are safely kept. Because He polishes 
 them ; and because He prepares to set them in His 
 crown. 
 
 1st Reason. Because they are precious. Some of 
 this world's jewels are worth a great deal. Cleopatra, 
 Queen of Egypt, had one so large and beautiful, that 
 it cost £80,000. I have read of another, possessed 
 by an emperor of Persia. It was of the size of a 
 pigeon's egg, finely shaped, reflecting the richest lustre, 
 and valued at £110,000. A ship was once sent over 
 to South America in order to secure one single jewel. 
 
 Some of your parents, who were up at the great 
 London Exhibition, saw, in the Crystal Palace, a jewel 
 that was known by a peculiar name. Do any of you 
 remember the name ? The Koh-i-noor. Yes, and 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 313 
 
 its English name is ' The Mountain of Light.' Many 
 a battle has been fought for that jewel. Hundreds 
 of lives have been lost in the struggles to secure it. 
 
 But, dear children, can you tell me of any jewels 
 far lovelier, and more precious than these ? Suppose 
 this church were filled to the very ceiling with jewels 
 like these, yon little girl, in the corner, carries some- 
 thing about with her that outweighs them all. 
 
 Oh that soul of yours, that soul ! That thinking 
 soul, which will never cease to think. Death will 
 come, but it shall not die. Your soul shall live as 
 long as God. What will you give in exchange for 
 your soul ? I am sure that God prizes it ' above the 
 topaz of Ethiopia.' For He gave His own dear Son 
 to save it. 
 
 Eemember, your precious soul is in danger of being 
 lost, as long as it remains in the City of Destruction, 
 in which we all were born. Many souls are lost in 
 the High Street of Unbelief, as well as in Drunkenness 
 Wynd, and in Sabbath-breaker's Eow, and in that low, 
 dark, dirty lane called Liar's Lane. 
 
 Many, many a soul perishes, like Lot's wife, half- 
 way to salvation. 
 
 Oh, precious soul, arise, flee ! Look not behind you, 
 except it be to speed your flight, by a moment's glance 
 at the danger, whose hot breath is on your back. 
 
 See ! the finger-posts are pointing, ' Eef uge, Eefuge.' 
 
 But it is not enough to know that there is a refuge 
 ready for you. You are only safe when you have 
 
314 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 really got over the threshold, and when you are really 
 within the sheltering walls. God is thy Eefuge, 
 sinner. All heaven wishes you would escape for your 
 life. 
 
 A Hebrew minister or Eabbi had gone away on 
 a journey, far from home. It was long ago, when 
 there were no railways, and no telegraphs. During 
 his absence, his only children — two sweet girls — 
 were seized with that fierce fever, which makes such 
 sad havoc among those of your age sometimes. 
 Scarlet fever ran its course very rapidly, and they 
 both died. There was no possibility of sending word 
 to their father. But, two days after, he returned, 
 somewhat late in the evening. His wife had the 
 house all set in order for him. And after he had 
 rested a little, she began to tell him of several things 
 that had happened when he was away. ' One thing,' 
 said she, ' was this. A friend of ours, who had lent 
 me some jewels, came to ask me to return them. Oh, 
 I wished you had been here to advise me, for I was 
 very unwilling to give them up.' 
 
 ' My dear,' he replied, ' how should you have been 
 at any loss ? Didn't you say it was a loan ? ' With- 
 out answering a word, she took him by the hand, 
 and led him upstairs, into the room with the white- 
 covered bed, and, in a burst of maternal anguish, 
 exclaimed, ' These were our jewels, love. " The Lord 
 gave, and the Lord hath taken away." ' 
 
 My beloved little ones, ye are your mothers' jewels. 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 315 
 
 Oh how much she loves you ! She cannot tell how 
 much. 
 
 Yet even her watchful, loving eye grows dim and 
 closes. Some of you have known what it is for her 
 to take in her cold, dying hand yours, and, with a 
 heart yet warm, to say, ' I am going to glory, follow 
 me there.' 
 
 But the warmest heart among us is cold as ice 
 and hard as adamant, compared with His who died 
 for you, and who says to all who trust in Him, ' My 
 jewels.' ' Ye shall be a peculiar treasure unto Me.' 
 
 No wonder that He should be our Treasure ! But 
 that He should call us ' His treasure,' wonder, ye 
 heavens, at this ! 
 
 ' The Lord's portion is His people.' 
 
 2nd. Converted children are the jewels of Jesus 
 because they shine. If I had found, on the way down 
 from Edinburgh this evening, a child all covered with 
 mud, and had brought him up into this pulpit with 
 me, you would have looked, and cried, ' What a sight ! ' 
 But if the child had been carried down into the vestry 
 there, and well washed, and clothed in a fine silk 
 dress, and then brought again into the midst of us, 
 and I were to ask, ' Did you ever see that child 
 before ? ' you would be ready to answer, ' Surely no, 
 but it is a lovely one.' 
 
 Dear young friends, so long as you are uncon- 
 verted, you are like the child when you saw it first, 
 in its loathsomeness. But when you know and believe 
 
31G JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Christ's love to you, and so become His jewels, you 
 are like the child in its cleanliness and beauty. He 
 adorns you with a sliining dress, puts ornaments of 
 grace upon your head, and chains about your neck. 
 
 A few years ago, there was a great nobleman sent 
 on an embassy to this country, from Nepaul in 
 Hindoostan. When he was driving in his splendid 
 carriage through London, he saw a poor black man, 
 who was sweeping the crossings in the street, and 
 who had done so for many years. He stopped his 
 carriage, beckoned to the poor Hindoo, spoke a few 
 words to him at the carriage steps, and the next 
 moment the poor man's besom was flung in over the 
 railing, while he sprang up into the carriage, and sat 
 beside his wealthy countryman. Next time he was 
 seen out, he was dressed in the richest raiment, 
 glittering with jewels, sitting by the nobleman, and 
 acting as his interpreter. 
 
 This is something very like Christ's way of giving 
 you the joy of pardon, and the wealth of a better 
 world, and taking you to interpret His heart of love 
 to the strange people of this evil world. 
 
 Can you tell me whether it was an evil time that 
 my text speaks of ? Yes, an evil time it was, a dark 
 time, when sin was very rife, religion very low. But 
 in the midst of all that gloom, the light of God's 
 children was shining. ' Then, they that feared the 
 Lord . . . thought upon His name.' 
 
 You notice how converted ones were known. By 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 317 
 
 their thoughts — ' They thought upon God's name.' 
 By their feelings — ' They feared the Lord.' And 
 by their conversation — ' They spake often one to 
 another.' Their thoughts were shining ones. Their 
 feelings were shining ones. Their mouths were shining 
 ones. 
 
 I repeat. Their thoughts shone. They thought 
 upon God's name. 
 
 Can there be any religion without thinking ? Do 
 you expect to be saved without thinking ? To be 
 sure, many deep thinkers are not converted men. 
 Why ? Because they don't think upon the right 
 thing, ' God's name.' 
 
 There are many separate syllables in God's name. 
 His goodness, for instance. You see it written on 
 
 the book of Nature's beauties. 
 His greatness . . . written on the illuminated 
 
 manuscript of starry skies. 
 His faithfulness ... in stone books which are 
 now being dug out of the ruins of Babylon and 
 Nineveh. 
 His hatred of sin ... in the red books of ghastly 
 war, and the black books of pestilence and 
 death. 
 But where is it that all the different syllables of 
 God's name are gathered into one ? It is in the 
 gospel, the blessed gospel, and this is the pith and 
 marrow of it, ' God is love.' ' A just God, and a 
 Saviour.' ' God is love, can that be true ? ' 
 
318 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 I recollect of a kind black servant, who was travel- 
 ling with his master's family, through a country in- 
 fested with wolves. Suddenly he saw two of these 
 terrible animals rushing out of the wood towards 
 them. ' Massa, Massa,' he cried, ' they will devour 
 the dear children. Let me jump out, and the time 
 they're eating me, you and the dear children will get 
 away.' And he did jump out before the hungry 
 wolves, who instantly seized him, and tore him in 
 pieces. Is not this a little picture of Jesus giving 
 His life for our life ? 
 
 ' Out of pity Jesus said, 
 I'll bear the punishment instead.' 
 
 I bless God for that word ' instead.' It was 
 through that word I got one of my first glimpses of 
 the way to be saved, of how the death of Jesus so 
 fully satisfied for sin. It is finished. All atoning 
 work done. The vail of the temple rent in twain, 
 from the top to the bottom — not from the bottom to 
 the top, but from the top to the bottom, — because it 
 was done from heaven, by God's own hand, not 
 leaving an inch for mine to rend. 
 
 ' Before, it was death to go in. Now, it is death 
 to stay out.' 
 
 You are all wanted to go in at once, and go up 
 to the mercy-seat, and be forgiven. It is thus 
 you become converted, and . numbered with Christ's 
 jewels. 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 319 
 
 Set down on your slate (boy) a thousand ciphers. 
 They signify nothing. But begin the line with a 
 figure, and they all count something now. So it is 
 only if you begin at the beginning aright, by taking 
 the peace that is ready made, taking it from the 
 naked merit of the true atonement — it is only when 
 you have taken this coming step, that anything that 
 follows it can be well-pleasing to God. For then 
 only have you begun aright to think upon God's 
 name. 
 
 Converted ones are also said here to be known by 
 their feelings. They ' fear the Lord.' Their feelings 
 shine, for all their feelings are happy, and all their 
 dispositions new. It is because they love God as a 
 Father, that they now fear to offend Him. He 
 keeps no slaves in His family, no creeping things 
 in His temple — ^just happy children, singing praise. 
 
 Besides, converted children (Christ's jewels) are 
 here said to be known by their conversation. Their 
 mouths are shining ones. For they speak often one 
 to another. They speak of their common Father, 
 their common hope, and their common home. 
 
 I saw on the High Street, the other day, some 
 boys whose mouths were pouring out oaths and 
 other abominable words. And I thought of what 
 David compared such mouths to — ' an open sepulchre.' 
 Such boys have mouths as black as the grave. . . . 
 
 ... I hope the elder people here are not trying 
 any other than God's way of being saved. Do you 
 
320 JAMES ROBERTSOI^. 
 
 like God's way ? It is just by liking it, submitting 
 to it, feeling that it is far sweeter for you to have 
 none of the praise, but to let Jesus have the whole 
 — it is thus alone you are put among the jewels of 
 Jesus. 
 
 And the only way to become bright with the 
 beauties of holiness is, to let in more of the love 
 of Jesus. The more directly your face is turned to 
 Him, the more sweetly will you shine. 
 
 3rd Reason we assigned for converted children 
 being called Christ's jewels is, that they are safely 
 hept. When a cloud of dust is raised on the street, 
 and your eye is in danger, how you put your hand at 
 once over it. Well, Jesus keeps His jewels ' as the 
 apple of His eye.' ' He that keepeth them will not 
 slumber.' 
 
 Can you tell me where the Jewish high priest of 
 old kept the names of all the tribes of Israel ? It 
 was on his breastplate. And in that breastplate 
 there were four rows of jewels or precious stones — 
 three in each row. There were the ruby and the 
 topaz, the jasper and the emerald, the sapphire and the 
 diamond, the ligure and the agate, the beryl and the 
 onyx, the carbuncle and the amethyst. These were 
 all figurative of converted souls. And who is our 
 great High Priest — the true Aaron ? Has He a breast- 
 plate with only twelve stones on it ? No, all believers, 
 of every age, and from every land, are jewels on the 
 breastplate of Jesus. And shall all hell be able to 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 321 
 
 pluck one of them — any of them — out of His hand 
 or from His heart ? 
 
 Did you ever notice a poor frightened bird, closely 
 followed by a hawk hovering over her in the air, and 
 on the very point of striking down upon his prey ? 
 
 One Saturday afternoon, when Ealph Erskine was 
 walking in the field, thinking over his sermon, such a 
 dove, so pursued, flew into his arms. Did he tear 
 the little trembler roughly from her shelter, and throw 
 it again within reach of the talons of the destroyer ? 
 No. Even the mischief-loving school-boy will not 
 hurt the robin, when, driven by the bare hedges to 
 seek for food, it hops in at the open door, while the 
 wintry wind is sweeping. Even that little boy cannot 
 cast out the little bird that trusts him. 
 
 And will He do less — the large-hearted, loving- 
 hearted Saviour ? Will He ' deliver His turtle-dove 
 to the multitude of her enemies ? ' 
 
 Oh that you may all be doves in His bosom, and 
 jewels on His breastplate. So shall you be kept for 
 ever safe. 
 
 4:th Beason for calling them the jewels of Jesus is, 
 that He piits them through a 'process of 'polishing. Do 
 you see that man passing along the street with a stone 
 in his hand ? Where is he going ? He says he is 
 going to the lapidary's shop. Come with me, and I'll 
 show you what he does with the stone. The lapidary 
 puts it into his machine, and smooths its surface by his 
 art, and by and by you see beautiful colours coming 
 
322 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 out. Just SO are we to put our stony hearts into the 
 hands of Jesus, that He may smooth their roughnesses, 
 and ' mould them to His will.' 
 
 Dear Sabbath-school child, if you are a jewel of 
 Jesus, you need not weep so bitterly over your poverty, 
 over your trials. When the prodigal had his pockets 
 full, he set off; but famine drove him home. 
 
 When you lost your little sister in the hooping- 
 cough, when you saw her poor body lying cold and 
 stiff in the coffin, when you heard the clods fall heavily, 
 hollowly on the coffin-lid at the grave, and came away 
 from it so sad and dreary, was not Jesus speaking to 
 you, and polishing you ? 
 
 When I stepped into the railway carriage, one bright 
 summer day, my attention was taken up with the 
 friends who stood there to bid me good-bye. As the 
 train moved on, the mile-posts seemed racing past. 
 And then, suddenly, hissing like some vast serpent, it 
 plunged into the tunnel. Then, for the first time, I 
 observed the lamp overhead burning. It had been 
 there all the while, yet because the bright sun made 
 it useless, I noticed it not. But I said to myself, 
 How truly are God's most precious promises like 
 that lamp in the railway ! 
 
 We have them always with us, yet we fail to prize 
 them fully, while the sun of prosperity is shining. 
 But let our path lie through the dark tunnel of dying 
 scenes, how the blessed gospel beams forth then, 
 like the railway lamp, to cheer us, and to shed 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 323 
 
 its happy light most brightly amid the thickest 
 gloom. 
 
 So, many a humble child of God, suffering in her 
 hovel or her garret, may, by her one talent of sweet 
 submission, be gaining ten to the Saviour's treasury. 
 All who remember the Dairyman's Daughter will under- 
 stand what I mean. She was a jewel of the first water, 
 and most sweetly did Jesus smile upon her steps, as 
 she passed through the ' shadow of death.' Little 
 did she know how far her light would shine. 
 
 Several years ago, a Christian friend was sauntering 
 among the graves in a churchyard, in the Isle of 
 Wight, when he saw a lady, in deep mourning, and 
 a little girl, sitting on a tombstone. The lady was 
 reading a little book to the girl, who was looking up 
 into her mother's face, through her tears. That lady 
 was the Duchess of Kent, and that girl the then 
 Princess Victoria, now our beloved Queen. They 
 were sitting on the grave of the Dairyman's Daughter, 
 reading together her touching story. 
 
 Another day, near the same spot, Legh Eichmond, 
 the honoured author of the book, had occasion to lend 
 a telescope to a stranger visitor. That led to some 
 acquaintance, and to his sending him a copy of the 
 Dairyman's Daughter. The stranger turned out to be 
 the Emperor of a distant nation, through whom the 
 book was translated, and was the means of gatherins, 
 both in his own family and elsewhere, much fruit to 
 God. Verily the Church is the jewel in the ring of 
 
324 JAMES ROBEllTSON. 
 
 the world's history, and all her afflictions are from the 
 hand of the Polisher. 
 
 The Koh-i-noor diamond, when it came into the 
 Queen's possession, was a misshapen lump. It was 
 very desirable to get its corners cut off, and all its 
 sides reduced to squares, but no unskilful hand was 
 permitted to touch it. Men of science were called to 
 consider the form of its crystals, the direction of its 
 grain, and the side on which it would be most 
 pressable. By their instructions, the jewel was placed 
 in the hands of an experienced lapidary, and by long, 
 patient, careful labour its sides were ground down 
 to the desired proportions. 
 
 The gem was hard, and needed a heavy pressure. 
 The gem was precious, and every precaution was 
 taken, which science and skill could suggest, to get 
 it polished into shape, without cracking in the 
 process. 
 
 Well, the effort was successful. The hard diamond 
 was rubbed down into forms of beauty, and yet sus- 
 tained no damage by the process of the lapidary to 
 which it was subjected. 
 
 Jewels, bright jewels, in the form of little children, 
 are the heritage which God gives to every parent. 
 
 They are unshapely, and need to be polished. 
 
 They are hard, and cannot be reduced to symmetry 
 without firm handling. 
 
 They are brittle, and so liable to be permanently 
 damaged by the pressure. 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 325 
 
 But they are stones of peculiar preciousness, and if 
 they were successfully polished, they would shine as 
 the stars for ever and ever, giving off brilliantly the 
 glory they get from the Sun of Kighteousness. 
 
 Do you possess these diamonds in the rough ? Oh, 
 strike them not unskilfully ; nor let them lie uncut. 
 
 Should not your richest treasure be your chief care ? 
 
 bth and finally. Converted children are the jewels 
 of Jesus, because they are imperishable ones, and are 
 going to be set for ever in an imperishable crown. 
 
 A lady was dressing one evening for a fine party. 
 She had all her jewels on. But, sad to tell, her 
 sleeves caught fire at the gas. She ran about the 
 room screaming for help. The flames spread to the 
 curtains. The whole house was soon in flames, and it 
 was burned to the ground. When the labourers came 
 to clear away the rubbish, what do you think they 
 found of the lady ? Nothing but a handful of black 
 dust. Yet, there lay her jewels unhurt, though the 
 gold and silver which had been round them had 
 melted. 
 
 "Well, the fire that will melt this earth, and turn 
 that sea to vapour, will not consume any of the jewels 
 of Jesus. They will stand even the searching fire 
 of that dreadful day. ' They shall triumph, when 
 the world is in a blaze.' 
 
 ' They shall be Mine,' says He. I will own 
 them as Mine. I will show them to be Mine. I 
 will come to be glorified in My saints. 
 
326 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 These are they ' whom the King delighteth to 
 honour.' 
 
 They shall behold His glory, and share His glory, 
 and add to His glory. 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton, with his telescope, looked among 
 the stars ; but how surprised he would have been, 
 had he some night descried through to the pearly 
 gate of heaven ! Why, in the pulpit with me here, 
 I've got a telescope, of God's own making, through 
 which you can see heaven's golden streets, and 
 heaven's throne of glory, and the Lamb in the midst 
 of the throne, and the rainbow round about the throne. 
 Yes, we see, through this glass, some of the very 
 jewels already sparkling in the crown of Jesus. 
 What a lovely jewel is Joseph there ! 
 
 And that great favourite of our childhood. He 
 who, when a boy, had a little coat, with long sleeves, 
 made by his mother, for his New Year's day gift — 
 the boy who was not afraid to be left alone in the 
 dark at night, who went away at once when bidden, 
 and lay down by himself to converse with God. Who 
 was he ? Yes, Samuel. 
 
 And yonder is the dear child who had a bad father, 
 and all bad around him, yet 'in him there was found 
 some good thing.' Eeligion had its home in his 
 heart, and it loved its home. What was his name ? 
 Abijah. 
 
 And who is yon, shining as the brightness of the 
 firmament — a man who, while here, outshone all 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 327 
 
 others in the grace of meekness ? His name is ? 
 Moses. 
 
 It reminds me of a dear meek lamb of Jesus, who 
 died about eight years old. His body was stretched 
 out in a darkened back room, waiting to be laid 
 away next Monday in the dust. His heart-broken 
 mother and his little sister had stepped in, to take 
 another look of the face that was dead. As they 
 stood gazing, the little girl asked to take his hand. 
 At first the mother did not think it best, but when 
 the child repeated the wish earnestly, she lifted the 
 chill, bloodless hand, and placed it in his sobbing 
 sister's. The affectionate girl pressed it fondly, and 
 then looking up at her mother, through gushing tears, 
 she said, ' Mother, that dear hand never struck me.' 
 My boys, are you always so meek and gentle, that, if 
 you were to die this week, your sister could take your 
 hand, and say, ' This dear hand never struck me ' ? 
 
 ' He sees how children dwell in love, 
 And marks them for His own. ' 
 
 Tommy stopped his mother when she was teaching 
 him that, and said, ' Is God willing to mark a little 
 boy like me ? I suppose the biggest mark will be 
 loving Jesus for His so loving us.' And then he 
 added, ' Happy, happy Tommy, if God will mark me 
 for His own.' 
 
 Beloved children. Is not a place in Christ's crown 
 worth seeking ? ' They that seek Me early shall find 
 
328 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 Me.' That's your promise. The older folks here have 
 other promises, but they have not that promise — that's 
 all your own. Cling to it then. Seek Jesus. Oh, 
 seek Him, and you shall find Him early. 
 
 Did you never detect in yourselves (my older 
 friends) a lingering feeling of distrust, when reading 
 the accounts of the conversion of very young persons 
 — say of children under ten or twelve years of age ? 
 That was often the case with me. Eecent circum- 
 stances, however, under my own observation have 
 produced a great change in my views of this sub- 
 ject. I believe that children may become intelligent 
 Christians, Christ's jewels, at a much earlier age than 
 is generally supposed. The longer I preach I feel 
 more that conversion is the main thing, and that 
 youth is the converting time. I believe that far 
 more direct and specific efforts for their early con- 
 version ought to be used by ministers, parents, and 
 Sabbath-school teachers. Oh, aim at it, and expect it. 
 The key to their hearts is the knowledge of the heart 
 of God. 
 
 Pray much — very much — that that key may be 
 applied, and their hearts opened. Pray for child by 
 child in your class, each child by name, and let this 
 be your cry, ' Holy Spirit, put them among the jewels 
 of Jesus. Wilt Thou not do it this week ? Wilt 
 thou not do it now ? ' 
 
 If you came up to Edinburgh to-morrow evening, 
 and heard the bells ringing out a merry peal from 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 329 
 
 every steeple, and the cannon from the Castle roaring 
 out their harsh joy, and the streets all blazmg with 
 illumination, wouldn't you say, ' It can't be a trifle 
 over which they are all rejoicing. Some great thing 
 must have occurred.' 
 
 Well, come up with me in, through, to the heavenly 
 city. Lo, they are all keeping jubilee. Must it not 
 be some great thing that has filled all heaven with 
 fresh joy ? The conversion of a single soul does it. 
 Any soul — the soul of a pauper in the poorhouse, 
 or the soul of that pauper's child. 
 
 How the angels, that are hovering over us, would 
 fly back to heaven more angelic than they came, 
 could they carry the tidings that you, Thomas, William, 
 Eobert, Eliza, Jane, Mary, had this evening been put 
 among Christ's jewels, and are going to be set as 
 jewels in His crown eternally ! 
 
 Oh that God may send to all your schools such 
 revival as angels like to see — the breaking of hard 
 hearts, and the healing of broken ones ; the weeping 
 of convinced sinners, and the joy of converted sinners ; 
 the fleeing of souls from hell, and the flocking of souls 
 to heaven ! 
 
 Oh that a more powerful voice than ours may reach 
 them, and a more powerful arm than ours bring them 
 to Jesus ! 
 
 Even that voice of the Lord which is full of 
 majesty, that arm of the Lord which is omnipotent 
 to save. 
 
330 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Blessed Spirit, do Thine own work. Decide Thou 
 these children's choice. Draw each heart to cry^ — 
 
 ' Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, 
 
 Look upon a little child ; ^ 
 
 Pity my simplicity ; 
 Suffer me to come to Thee. 
 
 Fain I would to Thee be brought ; 
 Gracious Lord, forbid it not. 
 'Mong the jewels of Thy grace, 
 Give a little child a place. ' 
 
Will you read with me, or read for me, two little 
 Bible verses ? Would some boy read the one, and 
 some girl the other ? They are both written by the 
 same John, about the savie Jesus. The first you will 
 find in the Gospel of John, xix. 2. What boy has 
 found it ? Eead the whole verse. 
 
 'And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and 
 put it on His head, and they put on Him a purple 
 robe.' 
 
 The second of the two passages you will find in 
 John's Book of Eevelation, xix. 12. Will some girl 
 be so kind as read the middle clause ? 
 
 ' And on His head were many crowns.' 
 
 Now, put them together — His ' crown of thorns ' 
 and ' His many crowns ' — 
 
 His ' crown of thorns ' — on earth. 
 
 His ' many crowns ' — in heaven. 
 
 On this hand, would you carry away the thought of 
 the first, and on that hand the thought of the second ? 
 
 I. The ' crown of thorns ' — worn on earth. 
 
 1. What cruelty it was, this putting on His head 
 a crown of thorns ! For the thorny spikes went deep 
 and sharp. If they had meant merely to mock Him, 
 
332 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 they would have made Him a crown of straw ; but 
 as they wished to give Him as much pain as possible, 
 therefore they fashioned a ' crown of thorns.' Matthew 
 (xxvii. 30) and Mark (xv. 19) tell us that one 
 ' smote Him on the head with a reed.' — Yes, on the 
 head — and I have no doubt they did it on purpose — 
 driving deep the sharp points of the thorns into His 
 temples and on His brow. Immediately we see the 
 heavenly, suffering face of Jesus bathed in blood. 
 Yet did He utter a single angry word ? No. He was 
 silent as a lamb ! For He knew our sin deserved 
 it all. 
 
 2. What co7itempt and what insult there was in 
 their thus putting on His head this ' crown of thorns ' ! 
 He had said He was a king. So, to make sport of 
 Him, they dressed Him in a purple robe — like that 
 which kings used to wear, and put into His hand a 
 reed for a sceptre — such as kings used to hold, and 
 then, as your hymn says — 
 
 ' With mocking scorn 
 And crown of thorn, 
 They bore Him to Calvary ! ' 
 
 3. In spite of all the cruelty and of all the 
 contempt, what comfort it is to you and to me, the 
 sight of the thorny crown ! For I see in it a striking 
 picture of the way in which sinners are saved. 
 
 How came thorns to be in the world at all ? 
 You hear the answer in what God said to Adam, 
 after he had sinned (Gen. iii. 17), 'Cursed is the 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 333 
 
 ground for thy sake ; ' ver. 18, ' thorns also and thistles 
 shall it bring forth to thee.' Ever since, thorns have 
 been growing on the earth, as the token of sin's curse. 
 So when the soldiers wreathed these thorns, they were 
 just crowning Jesus with the symbol of the curse. 
 Though they did not mean it, they were really setting 
 forth in figure the grand truth (Gal. iii. 13), 'Christ 
 hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being 
 made a curse for us.' 
 
 In John (xix. 5) we read that ' Jesus came forth, 
 wearing the crown of thorns.' * He came forth,' as 
 one not ashamed of His sufferings for our sakes. 
 No — but glorying in them. So He brought up with 
 Him from the grave, the print of the nails — the 
 marks of the same cruel death ; ay, and He carried 
 them with Him to heaven ; for He appears as 
 the ' Lamb slain,' yonder, ' in the midst of the 
 throne.' 
 
 It is a remarkable circumstance in the last days 
 of the late Chancellor of England — Lord Lyndhurst 
 — that, after he was 90 years of age, he learned to 
 know and love Jesus, and this was what he said : 
 ' I used all my days to wonder what good people 
 meant when they talked of " the blood." But I under- 
 stand it all now. It is just substitution — Christ's 
 life for our life — Christ's death instead of our death.' 
 And when he was asked, very near his end, ' Are you 
 happy ? ' his answer was, ' Supremely happy — resting 
 upon that! It was a soft pillow for his dying head — 
 
334 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 thinking of the head that for him was ' crowned with 
 thorns.' 
 
 I have heard of a minister, whose congregation had 
 been long left cold and dead, because there had been 
 so little about that in his preaching ! One Sabbath 
 morning when he came into his pulpit, he found, on 
 the cushion, a slip of paper with these words written 
 on it, ' Sir, we would see Jesus.' His heart smote 
 him, he was led to much thought and prayer, and 
 from that time the name of Jesus was poured forth 
 as ointment among that people, and many of them 
 began to say, ' Lord Jesus, I take Thee to be my 
 Substitute ! Thou art mine ! It is just as if wc had 
 been crucified, as if ive had died already ! ' 
 
 ' Precious name ! oh how sweet ! 
 Hope of earth, and joy of heaven ! ' 
 
 How often do you think that ' Name ' occurs in 
 the New Testament ? Find out for yourselves. John, 
 who lay on His breast, uses it about twice as often 
 as Matthew ! Ah ! it is those who know Jesus best 
 and love Him most who are the last to weary of 
 hearing about Christ and His crown of thorns ! 
 
 I saw in a hedge, all bristling with thorns, the 
 pretty nest of a little bird. Why did the bird build 
 its nest there ? Why ? Because the thorns were a 
 protection to it from harm. Well, I thought I would 
 bid you nestle among the thorns of Jesus, for there 
 is no resting-place so safe for timid, trembling souls. 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 335 
 
 When you have said, ' Lord Jesus, I accept Thee 
 as my Substitute — as having paid it all for me' — 
 then come, and crown His blessed head with other 
 crowns. 
 
 Hark ! from among these thorns, I hear a solemn 
 warning ! What is it ? A warning against our ever 
 committing the same sin that these soldiers did, when 
 they wove the crown of thorns, ' The same,' say 
 you, ' why, never would I weave such a crown for that 
 dear head ! ' Ah ! my dear young friends, all who do 
 not put their hand into Jesus' hand, and say ' Yes ' 
 to Him just now, are really gathering thorns, and 
 twisting them around His brow ! 
 
 There was a little bit of poetry we used to repeat 
 in our school-days, ' The death of Gellert.' Do you 
 know it ? When his master was out of the house, 
 a wolf attacked the cradle where his master's child 
 was sleeping. The faithful dog destroyed the wolf, 
 saved the child, and lay down beside the cradle. 
 When the Welsh chieftain entered, and saw the blood 
 lying round the cradle, in hot haste he killed the 
 dog ! and when he came to know the wrong that he 
 had done — slain the dog that had saved his child ! — 
 he went out and wept right bitterly. And this was 
 only for a dog ! But it is the Christ of God whom 
 we have murdered by our sin. They say that every 
 time Peter heard the cock crow, he wept bitterly, as 
 one well accustomed to weep ; and when the ribald 
 world still clamours, ' Crucify Him, crucify Him,' will 
 
336 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 not your voices be louder still, ' Crown Him, crown 
 Him, Lord of all.' 
 
 II. His ' many crowns ' in heaven. ' On His head 
 were many crowns' (Rev. xix. 12). Crowns of two 
 sorts. Crowns of power and crowns of praise. 
 
 1. Crowns of Power, for Jesus is a King, and as 
 such He wears — 
 
 (1) The Crown of creation. 'All things were made 
 by Him, and for Him.' There's not a pebble on the 
 seashore, there's not a dew-drop trembling on a rose 
 leaf, but is the workmanship of Jesus ! Who is this, 
 who comes walking on the waters ? Who is He 
 who is standing up in yon boat, and saying to the 
 storm, ' Peace, be still ! ' — and it crouched at His feet ? 
 Lo ! it is Jesus ! ' Jesus only,' who over all nature 
 sways His sceptre, and wears His crown ! 
 
 (2) The Croivn oj jprovidence is on His head. Yes 
 — for ' He upholds all things by the word of His 
 power.' 
 
 I remember when I was first taken to see a large 
 piece of machinery, like one of your mills at the 
 ' East End ' — wheels after wheels — wheels within 
 wheels ; they all seemed tangled and twisted ; all 
 working at cross purposes. Often have I thought of 
 it since, how closely it resembles the pictures of God's 
 providence in Ezekiel (chaps, i. and x.), where we are 
 told that over the wheels was there ' the likeness of 
 a man,' who is just our own Jesus, on whose head is 
 the crown of providence. 
 
SERMOKS TO CHILDREN. 337 
 
 During the persecution which raged in France, in 
 the year of the massacre of St. Bartholomew, when 
 so many Protestants were killed, a good minister hid 
 himself in a hay-loft, and would most certainly have 
 been starved to death, if there had not come, every 
 morning, a hen into the place where he was, and laid 
 the egg which preserved his life. 
 
 What is the price of a sparrow ? How many 
 would you get for a farthing ? Two. Ask the woman 
 for two farthings' worth, and how many would she 
 give you ? Five. Yes, they are such tiny little 
 things, she throws one into the bargain ! Yet not 
 one of them is forgotten by Jesus ! or falls to the 
 ground without our Father ! 
 
 Have you ever been in London ? If you have, 
 perhaps you have seen already, or if not, remember to 
 look, the first time you go, at the toj) of the spire of the 
 London Exchange, and you will see a curious weather- 
 cock, in the shape of a monster grasshopper ! How 
 did it come to be there ? About 350 years ago, a 
 woman with a little baby in her arms was trudging 
 along a little English country lane. I am sorry to 
 say it, but the mother had forgot to love her child, 
 and wanted to get quit of the trouble of bringing it 
 up. So, after looking this way and that way, to see 
 that nobody was watching her, she climbed over a gate 
 into a field, and, wrapping the baby-boy in her tattered 
 shawl, she laid it down among the grass, and left it 
 there. 
 
 Y 
 
338 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 By and bye, down the lane came a schoolboy, 
 whistling aloud on his way home. Just as he reached 
 the gate, over which the woman had climbed, he 
 heard the chirp, chirp, chirp of a grasshopper, and 
 over the gate he jumped to catch it. And he had not 
 gone far till, among the grass, he found the baby fast 
 asleep. Up he took the little fellow, and carried it 
 in his arms to a farmhouse, where the farmer's kind 
 wife took care of the little orphan, till he grew up to 
 be a young man. Then he went into a situation in 
 London, and by his good conduct rose to be one of 
 the richest merchants in the City. Queen Elizabeth 
 often sent for him to dine with her, and then she 
 made him a knight — with the title ' Sir Thomas 
 Gresham.' So he built the Eoyal Exchange, and 
 placed this monster grasshopper on the topmost 
 pinnacle, and it is still there to tell you and me that, 
 as in the case of Ishmael, ' God heard the voice of 
 the lad.' 
 
 Jesus, the Lord of Providence, can save a valu- 
 able life by means of a very little thing. He 
 hangs heavy weights on very small wires ; and if 
 you and I know Him as our own Saviour, we 
 may well leave our burden at His feet, and take a 
 song away. 
 
 Good Martin Luther used to say, when the Eeforma- 
 tion was being wrought by storms, that a little bird 
 sang good cheer to him as it hopped to and fro in its 
 cage. Nobody could say what it was singing, but 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 339 
 
 Luther declared that the little bird always sang to 
 him this little ditty — - 
 
 ' Luther, Luther, cease your sorrow, 
 God provideth for the morrow. ' 
 
 Dear children, the moment you come to Jesus, 
 there is real rest for you, and in the cage of your 
 heart there sings a merry little bird whose note is — 
 
 ' Cease your sorrow, cease your sorrow, 
 God provideth for the morrow. ' 
 
 But those two crowns of creation and providence 
 are both for the sake of 
 
 (3) The Croion of grace. As the hymn runs — 
 
 ' Of all the crowns that Jesus wears, 
 Salvation is His dearest claim. ' 
 
 Suppose you have a watch, and it won't go. You 
 take it to the watchmaker, and he says, ' I do not 
 wonder that it does not go, for the mainspring is 
 broken.' Well, unless you get into your heart that 
 mainspring, the love of Christ, your life will never go 
 right. 
 
 It is the happiest thing on earth to believe His love 
 to you — to know that, as King of grace. He has put 
 your sins quite away. 
 
 It is an out and out forgiveness, and it comes all at 
 once, quicker than the telegraph ! quicker than thought ! 
 The King of grace does things so grandly ! No one 
 except the king or the queen sitting on the throne, 
 can grant a pardon to a man condemned to die. 
 
340 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 Did you ever see a copy of such a pardon ? 
 
 It says that it pardons and puts away all the bad 
 things the man has done ' sic like,' as if that bad 
 thing had never been done at all. 
 
 That is hke the way Jesus forgives. Your punish- 
 ment has passed to Him, and His righteousness passes 
 to you. His love closes round you, and you are His 
 perfectly pardoned, happy child. You may go as 
 near to Him and feel as one with Him as you like. 
 You cannot go near enough — you cannot feel one 
 enough ! 
 
 ' Oh, to grace, how great a debtor I ' 
 
 When Buonaparte was in his prison in St. Helena, 
 he uttered this memorable sentence, ' I founded my 
 empire on the sword, and it is gone. Jesus Christ 
 established His kingdom in love, and it will last for 
 ever ! ' 
 
 Little Mary's mother was showing her a picture 
 of Jesus, with children in His arms and crowding 
 round Him, and some of the mothers were rebuked 
 for pushing forward their boys and girls to go to 
 Jesus. ' That's what / would have done, Mary, if T 
 had been there,' said her mother. ' I would have 
 pushed you to Him.' 
 
 What do you think Mary's answer was ? ' Mothei; 
 I should not want to be pushed. I would have gone 
 to Jesus without pushing.' 
 
 My dear children, will yoio go to Jesus without 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN, 341 
 
 pushing ? Will you go now ? You may. Wliat 
 magnet will draw you, if not that ? 
 
 One afternoon, the Queen went into the cottage 
 of a poor old woman in the Highlands, and the old 
 woman had not the least idea who she was, but some- 
 how or other she found it out, just as the Queen was 
 leaving. After she was gone, she took the chair on 
 which the Queen had been sitting, and put it away in 
 a place by itself, saying, ' Did she sit so graciously 
 beside me on that chair ? Nobody else shall ever 
 sit on it.' I think it would be something like 
 that with you, if you only let Jesus into your 
 heart. You would say, ' My heart belongs to Him 
 alone. No one else shall ever have that place. 
 Take my heart just as it is. Set up there Thy 
 throne, so shall I love Thee above all, and live only 
 for Thee ! ' 
 
 All Christ's croivns of grace are crowns of vic- 
 tory. 
 
 Victory over Satan — as in yon terrible grapple with 
 him in the wilderness, when Jesus cut away the 
 Tempter's flimsy lies with one sweep of His sword, 
 ' It is written, it is written.' And I read in Eevelation 
 xix. 16, that Jesus 'has on His thigh a name 
 written. King of kings, and Lord of lords.' When 
 Jesus died, Satan shouted, ' I think I have Him now ! ' 
 Ah ! he cries ' Victory ' too soon ! Jesus, in dying, set 
 His foot upon the head of the Old Serpent, and when 
 He bowed His head and gave up the ghost, it was 
 
342 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 just that His head might wear crowns of victory 
 over the Destroyer. 
 
 Victory over death too. Jesus died that He might 
 take the deadly sting out of death to all who love 
 Him. One of my school companions, who was stricken 
 down when young, had no fear of death, for Jesus had 
 taken the sting away. The last thing he said to his 
 mother was — and as if he had been one of Bunyan's 
 Pilgrims passing through the dark river, and looking 
 back to those he had left on the shore — ' I find 
 Jordan to be but an ordinary stream.' 
 
 When I was at school, I saw a canary in a cage, 
 and it was very happy picking its food, and sipping 
 out of its little cup, and singing its songs. But one 
 day the cage was lying all broken on the floor, and 
 the bird was not there ! Wliere was it ? It had 
 fled away (so they told me) to a warmer climate, 
 where it was still singing — singing under sunnier 
 skies. So is it with those who trusted in Jesus, 
 and have been taken away by death. It is only the 
 cage which was broken and buried, but the spirit 
 which used to speak to you, and love you, and be 
 happy with you, was never touched. 
 
 Never ! Death is the gate of life — not life im- 
 prisoned, but life set free — life exulting in the fulness 
 of Christ's joy ! 
 
 The second class of His ' many crowns ' which we 
 have named is — 
 
 2. Crowns of Praise. The praises of sinners saved. 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 343 
 
 One very bright and sparkling company which we 
 may see flying upward with their crowns of x>raises 
 are — 
 
 ' Babes thither caught from mother's breast, 
 Who claim to sing above the rest, 
 Because they've reached the happy shore, 
 They neither saw nor sought before.' 
 
 Weeping Eachels ! Your family harp may have 
 lost its sweetest string, but there's one harp in 
 heaven the more ! If you only saw what a beautiful 
 cherub your child has become, would you shed another 
 tear ? 
 
 How came ye there, ye blessed little ones ? They 
 all answer, ' Our robes were washed and made white.' 
 How ? In your own innocence ? No. In the water 
 of your baptism ? No, ' They were washed and 
 made white in the blood of the Lamb.' Blessed 
 ones ! Stay where you are. We would not ask you 
 back. You would not come. We will go to you. 
 
 I love to think of heaven as made up so largely 
 of little children ! And the praises of heaven are 
 such as children here may long to sing — 
 
 ' I would be like an angel, and with the angels stand, 
 A crowii upon my forehead, and a harp within my hand ; 
 Then right before my Saviour, so glorious and so bright, 
 I'd wake the sweetest music, and praise Him day and night. ' 
 
 The old painters have given us pictures of Jesus 
 with a halo round His head. 
 
 We want you to crown the King in another way. 
 We want you to weave your best afi'ections into gar- 
 
344 JAMES ROBERTkSON. 
 
 lands of thanksgiving, that they may glitter for ever 
 round that blessed brow. Why shouldn't you all be 
 the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus ? 
 
 I heard a boy say, ' But I don't know what faith 
 is.' I answered, 'Yes — but you do know. For if 
 you saw one of your schoolmates coming along the 
 street, and you cried to him, " George, where are you 
 going ? " " Where ? To Uncle John's. He said he 
 would give me a shilling if I came to him just now." 
 " Did he promise you a shilling ? and do you expect 
 to get it ? " " Yes, I do expect to get it — for Uncle 
 John is always as good as his word." ' Now, that is 
 faith, taking Uncle John at his word ; and Bible faith 
 is taking Jesus at His word. 
 
 ' Jesus, our everlasting King, 
 Accept the tribute which we bring, 
 Accept Thy dearly-bought renown, 
 And wear our praises as Thy crown.' 
 
 This may be His coronation-day, if it be the day 
 of your coming to Him, if it be the day when you 
 brine; some one to Him, as Andrew did to Peter 
 when he took him by the arm, and ' brought him 
 to Jesus.' 
 
 Paul, when speaking of those whom he had 
 brought, says, ' What is our hope, and joy, and crown 
 of rejoicing ? Are not even ye ? ' 
 
 Beautiful upward steps these — hope — -joy — crown. 
 
 Your parents and teachers bringing you to Jesus — 
 that is our ' hope' 
 
SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 345 
 
 When we see you at peace with God — that is 
 our 'joy' 
 
 Wlien we behold you, by and bye, in your white 
 robes, spotless, in the image of Jesus, ' when Jesus 
 comes'— that will be our crown — our 'crown of 
 rejoicing.' 
 
 Would you like to put a crown upon the head of 
 Jesus, when He comes ? Well, if you come to Him, 
 you will be His crown ; and if you bring anybody to 
 Him, you will put a crown upon His head. Even 
 you little boys and little girls can become jewel - 
 gatherers for the Eedeemer's crown. 
 
 Will you try .? 
 
CHxtracts from an ^tiUress gtben at an Annual 
 JEretins of tfje Eract Siociets in X873. 
 
 ' Are our spirits ever more elastic, or our homes ever 
 more bright, than when we are dispensing to others 
 the mercies we have received from the Lord ? Was 
 it not in the breaking of the bread that Jesus multi- 
 plied it ? and then, " over and above unto them that 
 had eaten " were there not " twelve baskets full " ? 
 Just so, is it not in the distribution of His gifts that 
 you may most confidently count upon His smile ? and 
 are not the outgoings of your Christian kindness now 
 coming back by a blessed reaction into your own 
 hearts, in a deeper and fuller and ever-augmenting 
 stream V . . . 
 
 ' The new phrases in which many talk of the grand 
 old doctrine of substitution are fig leaves that a fallen 
 theology has sewed together to hide its own naked- 
 ness. Alas ! that while calling themselves disciples, 
 they should, in a night of their own making, have 
 taken down our Lord from the cross, and I know not 
 where they have laid Him. Thank God, that amid 
 such subtle, insidious scepticism, your Society is giving 
 no uncertain sovmd. You adhere undisguisedly and 
 
EXTRACTS FROM AN ADDRESS, ETC. 347 
 
 unyieldingly to the old, red, crimson cross which stands 
 at the centre of the universe, and hard by that cross 
 the empty sepulchre, and with the risen Eedeemer all 
 things rise.' . . . 
 
 ' There are few fellow-labourers I am happier to 
 meet than one of your tract-distributors, threading 
 her way from one stair to another, and knocking from 
 door to door. Instinctively I say " God speed " to one 
 who is so like the symbolical woman in the gospel, 
 lighting her candle, and sweeping the house, and seek- 
 ing diligently for the piece that was lost. Her step is 
 too soft to be heard by the world ; but over every 
 handful of corn she scatters, she keeps pouring the 
 dewy influence of prayer. It is in the stillness of the 
 night that the dew is formed ; but when the morning 
 sun darts abroad his rays, the beautiful result is visible 
 on every spire of grass and the spray of every tree. 
 So, when the everlasting day breaks and the shadows 
 flee away, will not some of the sweetest surprises of 
 glory be found in similar resurrections of your " works 
 of faith and labours of love " ? I recollect an old 
 lonely widow, whose hearing and eyesight were failing 
 her, and who had one of your tracts lying beside her, 
 Wlien asked if she was still able to make it out, " Oh," 
 said she, " I'm so thankful since they put the tracts 
 in Mg print ! Yet it is little use I can make of them 
 in ordinary daylight. Only there's an hour or so in 
 the afternoon, when the sun comes round and shines 
 in strong at my little bole o' a window there — then I 
 
348 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 pick up the tract, and strain my eyes to catch the 
 words by which I hope to be saved." I wonder 
 whether the sun, in all his wide journeying from east 
 to west, performs any nobler function than that of 
 lighting such an aged pilgrim on to the better 
 land.' . . . 
 
 ' From the moment a soul is won, the value of life 
 is, how much of Christ can be put into it.' . . . 
 
 ' The safety of the highest is bound up with the 
 condition of the lowest, and our country may be 
 startled some day by what will sadly rebuke us for 
 our neglect of means for checking such sins as are 
 carrying poison into so many hearts, and havoc into 
 so many homes. Wlien a Christian friend was lament- 
 ing the state of things, and remarking, "We must 
 employ another missionary," the answer given was, 
 " Better still, be you the missionary yourself." ' . . . 
 
 ' I believe it is face-to-face converse that is best 
 fitted for bringing the healing influence of the gospel 
 to bear on the fermenting mass of depravity arouud 
 us. The salt of Christian character must come into 
 contact with it. Jesus touched the leper when He 
 cured him. What we want is more of that touch of 
 brotherliness and sympathy. It was not the sending 
 of the prophet's staff that would do. He had to 
 stretch himself upon the body, and then the flesh of 
 the child waxed warm.' . . . 
 
 ' In the great firm of the Church there are to be 
 no sleeping partners. In His great atoning work, " of 
 
EXTEACTS FROM AN ADDRESS, ETC. 349 
 
 the people there were none" with Him. But in the 
 ingathering of souls, He expects His people to be all 
 with Him. To-night there has been no lack of fuel 
 to feed the fire of godly enthusiasm. But nothing 
 petrifies the heart like having our feelings stirred, and 
 then going away to do nothing. All the glow of this 
 happy occasion will be but a deceitful cordial, unless 
 it be turned to some practical purpose of more honest, 
 earnest work for souls. " Go out quickly and tell." 
 Yes, quicMy ; for if we don't get more hands to the 
 pumps the water will gain upon us, and the vessel 
 will go down. " Go out quicMy ;" for soon you and I 
 will not be here. We have not to work long — what 
 need to work well ! Time is flying, and the Lord 
 coming. We must have more work done for Him ere 
 He comes — something He will be pleased to see when 
 He comes.' 
 
' iLobe ©ibitic, all iLobe lExccllins.* 
 
 Address at the Noonday Prayek Meeting in 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 The key-note struck for us to-day is Love. Indeed 
 it was struck in heaven from all eternity, and all 
 religion on earth is but an echo of it. ' He first loved 
 us,' therefore ' we love Him.' And while I quote a few 
 words more from 'the disciple whom Jesus loved,' 
 may you and I, dear friends, have John's place at the 
 feast of gladness — the very bosom of Jesus — feeling 
 the throb, and catching the glow of His heart, and 
 learning love there as John learned it : ' God is love! 
 ' We have known and believed the love that God hath to 
 us.' 'Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love 
 one another.' Words these from which it is plain that 
 religion, as a principle, is — 
 
 (1.) Love from God to man. Never do I feel so 
 much at a loss, or so thoroughly dissatisfied with any- 
 thing that can be said, as when this love is my theme. 
 Oh for a warmer heart and a louder song ! When Sir 
 James Mackintosh was dying, a friend saw his lips 
 
' LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVE EXCELLING.' 351 
 
 move, and when the ear was put down, it caught the 
 whisper, ' God — Love — the very same.' — Yes, Love is 
 the only word convertible with God. It is not His 
 mere name, but His nature — His being — Himself. 
 How is God affected towards us ? His own full 
 answer is given in Jesus dying, ' the Just One in the 
 room of the unjust.' God's hatred of sin is a central 
 perfection of His character. If that were wanting, or 
 weak, we could neither trust nor revere Him, but Holy 
 Love is the crown out of which all His attributes, 
 like costly gems, emit their varied though equal 
 lustre. 
 
 Man loves what is lovely, but God loves the un- 
 lovely to make them lovely. There is no foundation 
 for my love to God, except the old one, ' God loves 
 me.' There is no proof that that foundation has been 
 laid, except the old one, with its triple emphasis, ' God 
 so loved, that He loved the world ; ' — ' So loved the 
 world, that He gave His Son ; ' — ' So loved, that who- 
 soever believeth in Him should not perish, but have 
 everlasting life.' Think not that Jesus died to pro- 
 duce love in the Father's heart, love that was not 
 there before. ' For the Father Himself loveth you.' 
 ' Hereby perceive we the love of God ; ' but the words 
 ' of God,' standing in our translation, occur not in the 
 Greek. Literally the verse runs, ' Hereby perceive we 
 the love ' — what true love really is, and can do and 
 has done. God's omnipotence — it is the arm of His 
 love. God's threatenings — they are the hoarser voice 
 
352 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 of His love. By the grave of Bethany, you see 
 love weeping. On Calvary, you see love strong 
 as death, yea stronger. It has no match among 
 the deeds of men ; it has no precedent among the 
 w^ondrous ways of God. He has gone to the utter- 
 most in nothing but His love. What magnet can 
 draw us, if not that ? "What fire melt us, if not 
 that? 
 
 If we rightly feel that ' God is love,' we must feel 
 it to be an essential part of the description that God 
 must love Himself — that He can do Himself no 
 wrong when His love runs to meet and embrace His 
 prodigal child. Where can we get at this feeling 
 but by going deep down into the suretyship of 
 Jesus ? There we see Love, not stealing round by 
 the back of a throne on which Law is sleeping. 
 No, it comes to us under the sanction and smile 
 of law. 
 
 It is by the awful lights of His law that God 
 reveals the sweet vision of His love. Eternal love is 
 wedded to eternal law, and they have found their 
 bridal home in the cross of Christ. ' He loved us, and 
 gave Himself for us,' a propitiatory, expiatory sacrifice. 
 The barrier which guilt had erected between us and 
 God, Christ neither evaded nor rudely broke through, 
 but in the way of that satisfying Atonement He 
 righteously removed it. To any soul that would fain 
 get into friendship with God, this is the portal — this 
 is the passport. ' All things are now ready ' on God's 
 
' LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVE EXCELLING.' 353 
 
 side. The question of law is settled, and the gospel 
 begins with us after that — begins with the proclama- 
 tion of forgiveness full and free. Low thoughts of 
 this lie at the root of all our low religion. There 
 is only one thing in which God is said to rest, ' He 
 will rest in His love ' — in His beloved Son, in whom 
 He is ever well pleased. The smile which greets 
 Jesus the believing sinner shares, and then there is 
 no one attribute of God more on his side than 
 another ; — they all breathe benediction over him. 
 Here all true theology begins, and only ends to begin 
 again. 
 
 When a mother was telling her little girl how 'God 
 so loved ' us, the child looked up, and said, ' That can't 
 be true, no it cant, for if that were true everybody 
 would he speaking about it.' Ah ! friends, how many 
 souls may have stumbled into perdition over our silence 
 about ' love so amazing.' What swelling thoughts would 
 fill our breasts, what burning words would drop from 
 our tongues, did we speak as we ought of His kind- 
 ness, His loviur/ -kindness ; His mercy, His tender mercy. 
 I have no strings sweet enough to tell its tenderness, 
 or loud enough to tell its strength. Inspiration itself 
 can find relief only in adoring exclamations, which 
 are among the most welcome words of the Bible, 
 for they give outlet to the fulness of the burdened 
 heart. ' Behold what manner of love ! ' '0 the 
 depth ! ' 
 
 (2.) Out of love from God to man springs the 
 z 
 
354 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 refluent tide of love from man to God. It is not clear 
 views of our duty to God, but clear views of God's 
 love in Christ to us, that win us over to new obedi- 
 ence. The ' bands of a man ' are the ' cords of love.' 
 The way to shine is to be shone upon, and the way to 
 love is to be loved, and to know that you are loved. 
 For then you are not dragged against your will — your 
 will is won, and you move on in God's service not like 
 a slave under the lash, but as a happy child with an 
 open bosom and a beaming face. 
 
 ' Perfect love casteth out fear.' In the original of 
 that verse there is an article before the word perfect 
 so that the true meaning seems to l^e, ' The perfect 
 love,' manifested on Calvary, floods out fear, sweeps it 
 away on the crest of its rejoicing wave. Summer 
 brooks are soon dry, for they owe their waters only to 
 occasional thunder showers ; but the stream which 
 issues from the well of God's love is ever flowing. 
 Keep your mouth at this well, and while you draw 
 your joy from it, the Bible never teaches you to suspect 
 you can carry that joy too far. 
 
 We can leave no man with the apology for not 
 loving God, that he has no assurance that God loves 
 him with the same love that led Him to give His Son 
 to die. The more freely that we tell it, the more 
 truly do we tell it. It is the royal chariot in which 
 the Spirit loves to ride. Is it for want of telling out 
 this holy love in its blessed broadness, that conversion 
 on a larcre scale has been so rare ? Unless the know- 
 
' LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVE EXCELLING.' 355 
 
 ledge of this love be lodged in the heart by the Spirit's 
 power, that heart may be tortured, but its ' hurt ' — its 
 jealousy of God — can never be ' healed,' so that it may 
 feel at home with God. During the last two months 
 — when the Holy Ghost has been given in so much 
 of His teaching and transforming power — had the 
 wondering question been put round among those who 
 have received salvation, Wliat drew you ? what made 
 you ashamed of your averted face ? the response would 
 have been. The charm of God's love believed. Long 
 did terror make us try to hide our enmity, but now 
 love has slain it. It has stamped upon sin the 
 broadest, blackest brand. ' How can we do this great 
 wickedness,' and so wound our Best Friend's heart, 
 and make it bleed again ? 
 
 The more freely God's love is revealed, the more 
 deeply do we feel our sin condemned, and being ' for- 
 given much,' we 'love much.' First pardoned, then 
 purified, and purified by being pardoned, God's pardon- 
 ing love believed becomes the sanctifying love — 
 sweetening the pulse of our spiritual being into tender 
 trust and grateful devotion. 
 
 In yon workshop the other men were using their 
 tools so sluggishly, and wearying for the hour of dis- 
 missal to strike. But after they had rushed away 
 home, you might have seen one youth remaining, and 
 singing at his work, and when you asked the reason 
 why, he sweetly said, ' Those others are hirelings, paid 
 by the hour ; but I have an interest in the business 
 
356 JAMES EOBERTSON. 
 
 here ; it is my father's business, and a loving father 
 he has been to me.' Oh yes, it is love that is most 
 prolific of loyal, devoted labour. The only way to 
 give forth more visible graciousness is, to let in the 
 love of Jesus in a deeper, fuller, and ever- augmenting 
 stream ; and with that love comes the Spirit's fire, 
 burning up corruption, and making you bright with 
 the beauties of holiness. Obedience is the daughter of 
 love — love the daughter of forgiveness — and forgive- 
 ness the daughter of God, born beneath the cross on 
 which the dying Saviour hung. There your submission 
 is love kissing the rod ; your repentance, love washing 
 the feet of Jesus with its tears ; your zeal in winning 
 souls, love on fire. Give us more of that hidden fire, 
 and all the rest will follow. 
 
 (3.) One thing that is sure to follow is the circula- 
 tion of more love from Christian to Christian, and from 
 man to man. ' The fruit of the Spirit ' (not fruits but 
 fruit, all one cluster upon one stalk) — ' the fruit of the 
 Spirit is love, joy, peace,' etc. All those others are but 
 the expansion of the foremost — ' love,' ' Joy ' is love 
 triumphing; ' Peace,' love resting ; ' Long-suffering,' love 
 bearing up under the heavier, and ' Gentleness,' under 
 the lighter, trials of life ; ' Goodness,' love going forth 
 into active usefulness ; and ' Faith,' love sitting and 
 receiving back again answered prayer to its own bosom ; 
 ' Meekness,' love controlling the passions of the mind, 
 and ' Temperance,' the same love sulduing those of the 
 body. Sweet family of sister-graces, these three — 
 
' LOVE DIVINE, ALL LOVE EXCELLING.' 357 
 
 'Faith, Hope, and Love' — but Love is 'the great- 
 est.' For while you believe for yourself, and hope 
 for yovirself, love makes you a blessing to all 
 around you. Love most resembles God, and 'love 
 never faileth.' ' The spirit of love ' is always ' the 
 spirit of power ' when it is ' the spirit of a sound 
 mind.' 
 
 From one loved cheek in your circle the healthy 
 colour is flying ; the hectic glow has taken its place. 
 Some foreign clime must be tried. But tell me — 
 lovest thou not the dear invalid more than all your 
 domestic comforts ? Yes ; and you show it by your 
 being ready, for her sake, to bear all the annoyances, 
 and expenses, and vicissitudes of ' travelling and taber- 
 nacling in strange places, and among strange people.' 
 So Jesus cuts down to the very core of the matter, 
 when He looks you in the face, and asks, ' Lovest thou 
 Me more than these .? ' More than these, your worldly 
 gains, and all your worldly frivolities. He offers you 
 superior entertainments, far sublimer joys. Who 
 need envy the pleasures of an insect, after having 
 tasted more than the joys of angels, for — 
 
 ' Never did angels taste above 
 Eedeeming grace and dying love.' 
 
 It is where sacrifice begins that the proof of love 
 begins. Giving of one's surplus may be no proof of 
 love at all. It is for the sake of your own happiness, 
 for the culture of that love which is the essence of all 
 
358 JAMES ROBEETSON. 
 
 Christian character, that we ask you to consecrate your 
 souls and your substance to the service of Christ's 
 glory — not because He has called us to do anything 
 of that sort to save ourselves, but just because He 
 has saved us, and has prepared the song for us 
 to sintj for ever — 
 
 ' To Him that loved the souls of men, 
 And washed us in His blood. ' 
 
 Archbishop Usher, on his visit to Samuel Euther- 
 ford, called love the ' eleventh commandment.' It was 
 no flash of trivial fancy, or of eccentric speech. For 
 is it not verily a neio commandment, which enjoins 
 love with such a new impressiveness, and after such a 
 new model, 'As I have loved you ' .? To love like John 
 is a lofty prize to run for, but who can love like Jesus ! 
 If our love be in kind like His, shall we not love 
 others before they love us ? And it will be no mere 
 matter of sentimental luxury, but of practical readi- 
 ness for sacrifice. Did Jesus delegate to angels His 
 glorious redemption deed ? No, it was His own 
 personal act ; and certainly the work of all of us, in 
 alluring souls to eternal life, will be most Christ-like 
 work, when it is wrought in face-to-face converse, 
 directly by ourselves. ' You had such an honour,' 
 said a mother to her little daughter, who had been 
 walking out with an aged Christian professor. ' You 
 had such an honour to walk so far with one who loves 
 the Saviour.' ' What,' said the child, ' love the Saviour, 
 
'love divine, all love excelling.' 359 
 
 does he ? He never spoke a word to me about the 
 Lord.' What a sagacious critic in matters of consist- 
 ency is a little child ! When the aged friend heard 
 of it, it led him more than ever to seek opportunities, 
 and to embrace such as arose unsought, for telling out 
 the ' old, old story of Jesus and His love! 
 
 Surely such a time as this is the time for our learn- 
 ing to love as Christ loves, by loving all the disciples, 
 just because they belong to Christ, Does not feeling 
 heart to heart make us wonderfully apt to see eye to 
 eye ? Is not tlie motto on the family arms — ' By 
 love serve one another ' ? Let the love of Christ, the 
 most sublime of all motives, and the glory of Christ, the 
 most sublime of all ends, become the ruling principles 
 of action ; then who can live for mere sect or party ? 
 Who can help living magnanimously for man and 
 for God ? Has it been common to say. When the 
 Millennium comes we shall have Christian love ? 
 Shall we not rather put it thus : When the visible 
 love of the Brotherhood falls on the world with 
 the force of a demonstration that the Father hath 
 sent the Son — the Millennium is on us before we 
 are aware, 
 
 ' He that dwelleth in love dtoelleth in God, and God 
 in liini.' Magnificent Home of love ! God our home ! 
 Yea, wonder rises upon wonder, that we should be 
 God's home ! From such a Heaven here, it cannot be 
 far to go to the heaven ' over there ' — where they 
 bathe in an ocean of love, and soar in an atmosphere 
 
3 GO JAMES KOBEETSON. 
 
 of love, singing as they soar the new song to the new 
 tune of love eternally. ' Oh, sing of His mighty love ! ' 
 ' Bless the Lord, ye His angels,' for all His love to us 
 — to me — I cannot as I would — ye can as ye should 
 — ' Bless the Lord, ye His angels ! Bless the Lord, 
 my soul ! ' 
 
LETTER TO HIS BROTHER. 361 
 
 The following letter, addressed to the Eev. Dr. 
 Eobertson of Irvine, has been found since the passing 
 of these pages through the press, and too late for 
 insertion at the proper place, towards the close of 
 Chapter V. It was written by the elder brother to 
 the younger, at a time when both were from home, 
 and when the younger was suffering under illness. 
 
 'Falkirk, 25 May 1838. 
 
 * My dear W. — In sorrow doubly dear indeed. It was with 
 heart and eyes full that I read the heavy tidings of this even- 
 ing's letter from home. My heart has been at Glendevon every 
 moment since, and the feelings of these moments have been 
 of a number which I cannot count, and of a character which 
 words cannot convey. " The voice said, Cry," and as Hope 
 and Affection lifted up their plea for you, and asked, " What 
 shall we cry?" the answer seemed to be still sounding, "All 
 flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof as the flower 
 of the grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof 
 falleth away ; but the word of the Lord endureth for ever." 
 "The Lord liveth, and blessed be our" unchanging "Rock." 
 This Rock is — at least I know my dear W. supremely 
 wishes it to be — his only resting-place ; and even should his 
 shattered bark seem on the point of foundering amid the 
 swell, does he not lift up his eyes, and — lo ! Jesus is walking 
 
362 JAMES ROBERTSON-. 
 
 on the waves. One glimpse of Him, one smile of His 
 countenance, one note of the music of His voice, "Be of 
 good cheer, it is I," will have as wonder-working an energy 
 in the unruly heart, as the " Peace, be still " of Gennesareth. 
 Oh, I trust that He in whose hand our life is, who has so 
 often heretofore made us ashamed of our fears, and been 
 better to us than all our hopes, will endow your constitution 
 with a buoyant and compensating power, and perfect that 
 which concerneth you ; and that, in the meanwhile. His 
 own most blessed peace settles on your spirits, infusing 
 u sweet willingness to "lie passive in His hands." Are 
 they not the hands of Infinite Love? Could I suppose 
 that my hand or voice was able in the least to lighten the 
 load or assuage the anxieties that may sometimes consum- 
 ingly prey upon you, sooii would 1 be beside you. I know 
 the "heart of a stranger" within the curtains, the hours 
 of dimness and mystery, in which we feel as if struggling 
 through an eclipse of frustrated hopes, and the gigantic 
 gauntness which our sorrows assume, when descried through 
 the mist of our own fears. It throws us upon the meaning 
 of our professions. "It sobers a man," says the Duke of 
 Sussex. I speak of it, not as a mere theorist, my dear 
 W., not from the hearing of the ear only, I hope ; for 
 the greatest trials of my life have been the greatest mercies 
 of it. Next to God's "unspeakable gift" has been this 
 long gift to me of a bitter cup of blessing. And on this 
 new cup of yours I have been struggling to inscribe 
 "Father" — for it is the messenger direct of a father's 
 faithful love — "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass 
 from us," nevertheless, Thy will be done — not ours. The 
 moments in which we are able to utter this last divine 
 
LETTER TO HIS BROTHER. 363 
 
 petition, with most entire surrender of heart, are those in 
 which we taste most of the sweets of the liberty wherewitli 
 Christ hath set ns free. 
 
 ' I am glad to know that you have enjoyed the influences 
 of that sympathetic affection which sits enthroned in our 
 earthly father's heart. His visit would be a balm to you. 
 But after the utmost possible estimate of such precious 
 parental tenderness, are not the sweet words of the Saviour's 
 suggesting — '■'•How much more" — applicable to all your 
 desires and expectations connected with the overflowing 
 fondness and faithfulness of our Father in heaven ? Glory 
 be to His name for these very strokes, if they are unmasking 
 the world to our vieAV, and moulding us into a conformity 
 to the image of His Son ! 
 
 ' Do you remember J. "VV. ? . . . I am seeing him often 
 in his sick-chamber. He feels the " world receding," shrink- 
 ing into its proper dimensions — a speck. He has a calm 
 hold of the Cross. This is the victory that overcometh. 
 The soft lustre of a confiding composure is the uniform 
 character of his experience, though nature must now and 
 then have its struggles. There is a simple-hearted, exclusive 
 reliance on a risen Redeemer and a finished Redemption, 
 and this chastened by the lowliest self-distrust. 
 
 ' Poor James Halley too. His laurels are not perennial ; 
 you know that he is in Madeira, and by last accounts "the 
 post of observation darkens every hour." But he knows 
 his refuge and hides in it. "Out of the eater has come 
 forth meat, and sweetness out of the strong." 
 
 ' What shadows we pursued ! What shadows we are ! 
 " There's nothing true but heaven." I have been 
 the privileged though weeping witness, for the last two 
 
364 JAMES ROBERTSON. 
 
 weeks, of some of the most sublime scenes at the dying bed 
 of an "old disciple." Never does religion look so lovely 
 as when emerging from the valley of tears — the fruitful 
 valley — where it has acted as a guide into the territories 
 of death, and enlivened to the desolated heart the loneliness 
 of bereavement. Never have I been more edified by a 
 practical exposition of those views of the Gospel, which are 
 alone adequate to " stay " the soul in "perfect peace " in the 
 last awful juncture. Never did I feel more firm in the 
 faith of the preciousness of Christianity, and the blessedness 
 of our being Christians. Never have I seen so much of 
 the holy and consoling beauty of the believer's resources in 
 a "dark and cloudy day." I have learned this new lesson — 
 how much more impressive the passive graces are than the 
 active, and how much of the good one's heart loves to do 
 he may be doing even when his " heart is overwhelmed " 
 within him. How exceedingly may you and I, my 
 beloved brother, feel quickened and established in the hope 
 that our gain shall exceed the loss now, when our turn has 
 come to pass through like " fiery trials " — ay, even should 
 they be heated seven times more than is wont — if it be 
 to burst a sevenfold chain, and to set us free to " walk with 
 God." 
 
 * In order to give your chest every sort of fairplay, I do not 
 wish to engage your promise to write to me. I shall be hear- 
 ing from home, and you may try to guess how happy it shall 
 make me to hear that " Richard's himself again " — quite out 
 of the reach of Dr. Kay's artillery — how I shall exchange 
 *' the spirit of heaviness " for tears of gratitude and " songs of 
 deliverance." Were it not for said "heaviness," and that I 
 am scribbling with such despatch of urgent speed, I might 
 
LETTER TO HIS BROTHER. 365 
 
 have attempted to initiate you into some of the mysteries of 
 
 best-manship, and tlie other sport of the day when Mr. 
 
 was spliced. He is to assist at the communion here in two 
 weeks. George Jeffrey preaches with us on Sabbath. The 
 Bannockburn folks will have a smell — perhaps a nibble — at 
 him. I am burdened with a desire to write more to you than 
 I am able. I cannot tell you hovN^ much more than ever I am 
 yours in true love, 
 
 J. E.' 
 
There has been erected in the Vestibule of 
 Newington Church, where he ministered, a 
 medallion bust in marble, bearing the follow- 
 ing inscription : — 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 THE REVEREND JAMES ROBERTSON, 
 
 THE FIRST MINISTER OF THIS CONGREGATION. 
 
 Inducted 11th October 1S4S. Died 3rd June 1S79. 
 
 An Able and Attractive Minister of the Word, 
 
 A Faithful and Devoted Pastor, 
 
 A Prizkd 'Son of Consolation.' 
 
 Redeeming Love was his Message, The Winning of Souls his Mission. 
 
 The Lambs of the Flock he tended with special care. 
 
 'A Man greatly Beloved.' 
 
 he rests from his labours, and his works do follow him. 
 
 ^^ 
 
MORRISON AND GIBB, EDINBURGH, 
 PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE. 
 
DEMCO 38-297