PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 5^^^. 
 
 Division ..JUirrn'.Xr^ 
 
 Sectiofi .JOi.zhJ.Llayrycy^ 
 Number 
 
 5Cc 4\ l^s, :S(^<4 
 
0/ 
 
 J/ . 
 
'^^^^Z^^ ^^c.^/ (^^^JZ^/. 
 
 WILLI AK-OLIPH.. 
 
 ::BLT(L-;H.lt-3 
 
LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 OF THE LATE 
 
 REV. HENRY BELFRAGE,D.D. 
 
 OF FALKIRK. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. JOHnIu'KERROW, 
 
 BRIDGE-OF-TEITH, 
 AND 
 
 REV. JOHN M'FARLANE, 
 
 KINCARDINE. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 WILLIAM OLIPHANT AND SON ; 
 
 WILLIAM COLLINS, GLASGOW ; CHARLES JEFFREY, FALKIRK ; 
 AND HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO., LONDON, 
 
 MDCCCXXXVII. 
 
W. OLIPHANT, JUN. AND CO. PRINTERS, 23, SOUTH BRIDGE, EDINBURGH. 
 
WTvr^r* 
 
 TO 
 
 THE MEMBERS 
 
 OF THE UNITED ASSOCIATE PRESBYTERY 
 
 OF STIRLING AND FALKIRK, 
 
 THIS MEMORIAL 
 
 OF A VENERATED BROTHER 
 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED, 
 
 IN TESTIMONY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE HIGH ESTEEM ENTERTAINED FOR THEM 
 
 BY THE COMPILERS. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 To perpetuate the remembrance of distinguished 
 Christian excellence, — to furnish a bright example of 
 ministerial diligence and fidelity, — and to allure men 
 to the love and practice of piety, by exhibiting to 
 their contemplation a choice specimen of the power 
 of the Gospel, — are the motives which have influenced 
 the Authors of this volume, in presenting to the 
 Public an account of the life and T\Titings of Henry 
 Belfrage. There is nothing in the following pages 
 fitted to excite a romantic interest, as there is no- 
 thing in them that partakes, in the slightest degree, 
 of remarkable adventure : but they contain a fine 
 display of those mild, attractive graces, that adorn 
 the Christian character, — blended with much that is 
 noble and dignified in human conduct. Those who 
 love to contemplate the lineaments of the Divine 
 image inscribed upon the vessels of mercy " prepared 
 for glory," mil peruse with pleasurable emotions the 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 account here given of this eminent minister ; for they 
 will behold these lineaments impressed upon him in 
 their fairest form. 
 
 In perusing those memorials of piety and friend- 
 ship, which were penned by Dr Belfrage, and which 
 have been collected together in this volume, the 
 reader can scarcely fail to notice a close resemblance 
 betwixt the subject of this Memoir, and " the disciple 
 whom Jesus loved." The same kind and gentle spirit 
 breathes in the letters of both. While their bosoms 
 glowed with a feeling of Christian love to their fel- 
 low-men, the governing principle of the conduct of 
 both appears to have been ardent attachment to their 
 Divine Redeemer. 
 
 In marking the different stages of Dr Belfrage's 
 career, fi*om his childhood till the closing scene of 
 his life, and in recording his varied and extensive 
 labours in the ministry, the compilers have availed 
 themselves of the opportunity, which such a narrative 
 presents, of giving a particular account of the course 
 of study, which the ministers of the United Secession 
 Church are required to undergo, previous to their be- 
 ing invested with the sacred office ; and also of the 
 pastoral duties which, after their ordination, they are 
 required to perform. We have attempted to delineate, 
 as faithfully as we could, the studies, the domestic 
 habits, and official avocations, of that laborious and 
 
PREFACE. \'ll 
 
 useful class of men ; for though the Memoir of Dr 
 Belfrage possesses an interest that is, in some re- 
 spects, peculiar to itself; yet the account which it 
 contains of ministerial zeal and faithfulness, we re- 
 joice to say, will be found applicable to a large ma- 
 jority of the ministers of the Secession. We have 
 only to add, that the Essay on Dr Belfrage's writ- 
 ings, furnished by our respected brother, Professor 
 Balmer, — and which is inserted at the end of the 
 volume, — will impart an additional interest to the 
 work, and render it, at the same time, more instruc- 
 tive. 
 
 This tribute of our affection for departed worth, 
 we lay upon the altar of our Saviour, as an humble 
 offering dedicated to his service ; and, along with it, 
 w^e present our prayer, that the Divine Spirit would 
 render it instrumental in winning men to the love of 
 holiness, and in promoting the sacred cause of truth 
 and godliness. 
 
 JOHN M'KERROW, 
 
 BRIDGE-OF-TEITH. 
 
 JOHN M'FARLANE, 
 
 KINCARDINE. 
 
 January 9, 1887- 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION OF DR BELFRAGE. 
 
 His parentage. Birth. Juvenile reminiscences. Early attachment 
 to books. Falkirk parish school. Anecdotes. Early predilection 
 for the ministry. College reminiscences. Letters to his parents. 
 Course of study in the Secession Church. Selkirk. Professor Law- 
 son. Mr Belfrage at the Divinity Hall. Receives license. Page 1. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FROM HIS LICENSE TO HIS FIRST VISIT TO LONDON. 
 
 Probationers of the Secession Church. Mr Belfrage's popularity as a 
 Preacher. His personal appearance. Receives calls from Falkii-k, 
 Saltcoats, and Lochwinnoch. Orduiation at Falku-k. Prosperity 
 of his congregation. His brother Andrew. Extracts from his 
 brother's letters. Death and character of his father. Letters from 
 the Rev. Robert Greig of Stitcliell. Miles Lane Congregation, 
 London. Mr Belfrage's first visit to London. Letters from Lon- 
 don Page 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HIS CORRESPONDENCE FROM 1803 TO 1813. 
 
 Affectionate reception by his peoi3le. Rev. Dr Waugh. Letters from 
 Dr Waugh. Letters to the same. His mother's death. Memorial 
 of his mother. Rev. Dr Husband. Visit to Lochwinnoch. Attack 
 of illness at Aberdeen. Correspondence about a prisoner in France. 
 Falkuk Charity School. Mr Belfrage's efforts to promote its 
 success. Unitarian collection for the school. Collection refused 
 by the managers. Mr Belfrage's letter in the Edinburgh Christian 
 Instructor. Mr SouthAvood Smith and the Editor of the In- 
 structor. Page 62 
 
CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HIS CORRESPONDENCE FROM 1813 TO HIS SECOND VISIT 
 TO LONDON. 
 
 His first publication : Character of it. Letter from Rev. Dr Law- 
 son. Letter from Rev. Dr Husband. Missionary zeal. Rev. Mi- 
 chael GilfiUan of Dunblane. Clerical honour. Enlargement of 
 his church. Second publication. Letters. Practical Catechism. 
 Escape from afoot-pad. His sentiments on the union betA\dxt the 
 two Secession Synods. Another volume of Addresses. Preaches a 
 funeral discourse for Rev. Dr Husband. Letters from Rev. James 
 ]\Iacfarlane. Publishes " Sketches of Life and Character." " Moni- 
 tor to Families." Receives the degree of Doctor in Divinity. Let- 
 ter from Sir Henry Moncreiff AYellwood, Bart. Letters from Rev. 
 Dr Waugh. . Reply. Second visit to London. Preaches before the 
 London IMissionary Society. Letters from London. Page 90 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CONTINUATION OF HIS CORRESPONDENCE, AND AN 
 ACCOUNT OF HIS MINISTRY. 
 
 Extracts from his Letters. Publishes " Discourses to the Aged." Letter 
 from Rev. Dr Dick. Remarks on Authors. PoUok, the Poet. 
 Death of Dr Waugh. Funeral Discourse for Dr Waugh. Letter 
 from Rev. George Burder. His jSIarriage. Publishes " Counsels 
 for the Sanctuary," &c. Letter from America. Visits St Andrew's. 
 "jNIemoir of Dr Waugh." Publishes " A Portrait of John the 
 Baptist." His industry as an Author. Publishes " A Practical 
 Exposition of the Shorter Catechism." Letter from a Minister in 
 England. Letter to the Editor of the Evangelical INIagazine. His 
 labours as a Minister. Ministerial Visitation. Diets of Examina- 
 tion. Attention to the Young. Ministerial Success. Death-bed 
 scenes. Attendance upon Church Courts. . . Page 135 
 
CONTENTS. xi 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HIS DOMESTIC HABITS AND HIS CONDUCT AS A FRIEND. 
 
 Introductory Remarks. The Fireside of a Scottish Presbyterian 
 Pastor. The Secession Manse. The Manse at Falkirk. ResjDect 
 for the Memory of his Parents. His Fraternal AfFection. Extracts 
 from Letters to Mrs Belfrage. His Conjugal Affection. His Pa- 
 rental Affection. His Remarks on the Loss of his First Child. 
 Letter intimating this Affliction. Birth of his Son. Baptism of his 
 Daughter. Dedication of his Family to God. His Easy and Com- 
 municative Disposition. Letters to his Sisters. Conduct in Society. 
 Domestic Habits. His Hours and Seasons for Study. His Cha- 
 ritable Spu'it. Attachment to his Ministerial Friends and their 
 Families. Anecdote. Extracts from Letters to a Young Friend 
 in the Ministry. Letters to the Son of one of his deceased Brethren 
 Letters to Mrs Waugh. Letter to one of Dr Waugh's Daughters] 
 His Excellency as a Friend Page 174 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HIS SYMPATHY WITH THE AFFLICTED, AND HIS 
 CONSOLATORY LETTERS. 
 
 His Powers of Consolation. Rev. Mr Haddin. Letter to his Widow^ 
 Letter to Dr Waugh's widowed Daughter. Letter to the Widow 
 of Dr Waugh. Sympathy with Ministers under affliction. Re- 
 spect for the Memory of his deceased Brethren. Letter to Mrs 
 
 H . Dr Dick. Extracts from Letters on the Character of Dr 
 
 Dick. Extracts from Letters of Sympathy. The Death of Infants. 
 Letters to bereaved Parents. His Domestic Bereavements. Death 
 of his sister Mary. Letter to a Friend. Character of Miss Mary 
 Belfrage. Death-bed of Miss Mary Belfrage. Death of his sister 
 Elizabeth. Letter to a Friend. The death of a Sister peculiarly 
 affectmg. Character and Death of Miss Elizabeth Belfrage. Death 
 of Dr John Belfrage. Account of his last illness by Dr Henry 
 Belfrage Page 205 
 
Xll CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HIS DEVOTIONAL HABITS. 
 
 The Spirituality of his Devotion. His frequent Meditation on Death. 
 His Habits of Prayer. The excellence of his Prayers. His regu- 
 larity in Prayer. His Manner of Sanctifying the Sabbath. Sab- 
 bath Evening in the Manse. Attention to his Servants. Anecdote 
 of the Conversion of an old Woman. His recognition of an over- 
 ruling Providence. His remark on the Cholera. His love of 
 Natui'e. Remarks of M. Necker. His Meditations on the Anniver- 
 sary of his Mother's Death Page 247 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HIS LATTER DAYS AND DEATH. 
 
 Symptoms of declining health. Letter. Jaunt to the Highlands. 
 Letter to Mrs Belfrage. Return. Letter. Occupation on the last 
 night of the year. Sermon on the first Sabbath of the yeav. Con- 
 clusion of sermon. Continues pastoral labours. Epistolary extracts. 
 
 Proposed jaunt. Letters to Mrs H . Last sermon in Falkirk. 
 
 Concluding remarks. Goes to Airthrey Wells. Letter to his sisters. 
 Visits Blackford. Preaches in Dunblane Cathedral. Last sermon. 
 Bridge-of-Teith. Returns to Rose Park. Pulpit supplied by the 
 Presbj'^tery. Last Sacrament. Last Table Address. Evening direc- 
 tions. Becomes worse. Letter. Visits to the neighbourhood. Last 
 Presbytery. Goes to Edinburgh. Death of Reverend J. B. Paterson. 
 Letter. Visits Melrose and Abbotsford. Returns worse. Last public 
 duty. Interviews with friends. Conduct in Affliction. Deathbed. 
 Interviews with Professor Balmer and Mr Smart. Death. Fu- 
 neral. Inscription on Tombstone Page 289 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON HIS LITERARY CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS. 
 BY THE REV. R. BALMER, BERWICK. . ^^g(^ ^^^ 
 
LIFE, CORRESPONDENCE, &c, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION OF DR BELFRAGE. 
 
 His parentage. Birth. Juvenile reminiscences. Early attachment 
 to books. Falkirk parish school. Anecdotes. Early predilection 
 for the ministry. College reminiscences. Letters to his parents. 
 Course of study in the Secession Church. Selkirk. Professor 
 Lawson. Mr Belfrage at the Divinity Hall. Receives license. 
 
 The father of the subject of this Memoir, was the Rev. 
 John Belfrage, Minister of the First Associate Congregation 
 in Falkirk. This venerable man was descended from a 
 respectable family in Kinross-shire. His father was pro- 
 prietor of Colliston, an extensive farm in the parish of 
 Orwell ; and his mother was the only child of the Rev. 
 Andrew Ure, Minister of Fossoway, — a lady who enjoyed in 
 early life the advantages of a first-rate education, and who 
 was distinguished for those mental accomplishments, which 
 give grace and dignity to the female character. Their son, 
 John, was born at Colliston, on the 2d of February 1736, 
 soon after the commencement of the Secession ; and, during 
 a long course of ministerial usefulness, he proved one of the 
 brightest ornaments of that Church. Having completed the 
 
 A 
 
PARENTAGE BIRTH. 
 
 usual routine of study, he was ordained at Falkirk, on the 
 6th of September 1758. Three years after his ordination, he 
 was united in marriage to Miss Jean Whyt, daughter of Mr 
 John Whyt, a respectable corn-merchant, belonging to his 
 own congregation. The education which this lady had re- 
 ceived, peculiarly fitted her for the situation which she was 
 called upon to occupy. She had been trained up under the 
 roof of a man eminent for his piety, and was early in- 
 structed in the fear of God. Her qualities were more of the 
 solid than the showy kind. Though married at the early 
 age of eighteen, she displayed in her domestic economy all 
 the wisdom and experience of a matured understanding. 
 Unaffected piety, strong good sense, prudent management, 
 and genuine kindness, marked her general deportment. 
 Throughout a long and active life, chequered by a variety 
 of painful trials, she proved herself to be indeed a blessing 
 to her husband and family. 
 
 Five sons and seven daughters were the fruits of this 
 union. All of these, with the exception of one who died in 
 infancy, were spared to reach the age of maturity. Henry 
 was the fourth son, and was born at Falkirk, on the 24th of 
 March 1774. He was dedicated in his infancy, by his 
 mother, to the Lord. He often spoke of the delightful feel- 
 ing, which he had in his young heart, of the kindness and 
 care of his mother's God, when hushed to sleep by her 
 prayers. Both his parents intended him for the ministry. 
 How early religious impressions were produced upon his 
 mind, it is impossible to tell. From the first dawn of life, 
 even when he had scarcely reached the period of boyhood, he 
 discovered indications of that kindness of heart, that sweet- 
 ness of disposition, and that regard for sacred things, which 
 so eminently characterized him in riper years. While he 
 was yet a child, and before he was well able to articulate, he 
 was accustomed to direct his steps on Sabbath morning to 
 the church door, in the immediate vicinity of the manse, 
 and there to wait till the beadle opened and gave him ad- 
 mission. By means of these visits he soon ingratiated him- 
 
MATERNAL REPROOF — OLD JOHN DOBBIE. J5 
 
 self with the elders, as they stood, in rotation, at the plate ^^ 
 to receive the offerings of the people. His interesting ap- 
 pearance as a child, and his frequent visits to the sanctuary, 
 reminded them of young Samuel moving about in the court 
 of the tabernacle, and preparing to minister unto the Lord. 
 One of the elders having given him a halfpenny, he held out 
 his little hand, when he returned to the manse, to show his 
 brothers and sisters the present which he had received ; and 
 the first articulate lanmiaofe which he was ever known to 
 utter, was in reply to the question. Who had given him the 
 present .^ In answering this question, he attempted to pro- 
 nounce the name of the elder from whom he had received it ; 
 and the imperfect manner in which he did so, excited a 
 laugh in the junior part of the family circle. This was im- 
 mediately checked by the pious mother, who told her children 
 that they ought not to be guilty of such levity on the Sab- 
 bath. The rejoinder to this was, that as they were only 
 laughing at the awkwardness of Henry, the sin was not 
 great. " There is no sin,"" said she, " that is small in the 
 sight of God, especially when committed on the Lord's 
 day.'' 
 
 Among the persons to whom young Henry attached him- 
 self at this early period, and whose attachment he won in 
 return, was old John Dobbie. John was a finished speci- 
 men of a Scottish beadle, — a complete exemplar to all who 
 aspire to that office. He was venerable in his appearance, 
 punctual in his habits, reverential in his manner, and most 
 devoutly attached to the ordinances. When he stood in the 
 
 * For the information of readers in the southern part of the island, it may 
 be necessary to state, that in all the Scottish Presbyterian churches a collec- 
 tion is made every Sabbath by the people, as they enter the church in the 
 forenoon. A plate, or collection-box, is stationed at the entry to the place of 
 worship, to receive the voluntary offerings of the people, and an elder stands 
 beside the plate, to take charge of the money thus collected. In many of 
 the dissenting congregations these weekly collections (or at least a certain 
 portion of them) are distributed weekly or monthly among their poor ; but in 
 others they are applied to the ordinary purposes of the congregation, such as 
 paying the minister's stipend, &c. 
 
EARLY PROGRESS AT SCHOOL. 
 
 minister's kitchen, waiting to receive the necessary direc- 
 tions, \Nath his bhie bonnet under his arm, his hoary locks 
 flowing upon his shoulders, his well-worn Bible in his 
 pocket, and his patriarchal countenance beaming good-will 
 to all, he presented the very image of one of those cove- 
 nanters, who, in more troublous times, had worshipped God 
 in the mountain recess. He had literally gro\\^l grey in the 
 service of the sanctuary ; and he felt, in all its force, the sen- 
 timent uttered by the son of Jesse, when he said — " A day 
 in thy courts is better than a thousand : I had rather be a 
 door-keeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in tents 
 of wickedness." To this pious official Henry's heart was 
 knit, because he had early learnt to associate with his ap- 
 pearance the idea of sanctity, and because the good man had 
 often shown him kindness, in opening the door to him, 
 and in tending him in his visits to the house of God. When 
 the infirmities of age incapacitated John for occupying his 
 usual place in the sanctuary, and when his eyes grew dim, 
 that he could not see to read, Henry went, after he had ac- 
 quired the art of reading, and read the Scriptures to him in 
 his dwelling. John's Bible, which had been his counsellor 
 and comforter through life, and which cheered him with its 
 contents in the prospect of death, he left as a precious de- 
 posit to his young friend : And, afterward, when Henry was 
 invested with the office of the ministry, this Bible was the 
 one w^hich he ordinarily employed in his library, when en- 
 gaged in studying the sacred oracles, either for his own 
 benefit, or with a A^iew to the instruction of others. 
 
 He was sent early, or, rather, I should say, he went early, 
 to school ; for he went at first without permission. To his 
 brother, Andrew, who was nearly two years older than him- 
 self, he was much attached ; and when Andrew was placed 
 under the care of the schoolmaster, Henry would not remain 
 at home. He ran away, when about four or five years of 
 age, to the school door, and beat for admission. " By all 
 means," said the teacher, " allow him to come in, he w411 
 soon weary." But Henry became so attached to his lessons, 
 
ATTACHMENT TO BOOKS. 5 
 
 that nothing would induce him to remain at home. He was 
 a most diligent and attentive scholar. The little fellows that 
 sat on the same bench along with him, by way of amusing 
 themselves, sometimes tried to make him look off his book, 
 but could not succeed. The progress which he made was 
 remarkable. At the age of six he commenced Latin ; and he 
 did this that he might keep pace with his brother Andrew. 
 Mr. Meek, the schoolmaster, meeting his mother one day 
 upon the street, said to her, " Mrs Belfrage, I don't know 
 what to do with little Harry, he won't be kept from joining 
 the Latin class with Andrew.'' " Just let him go on," re- 
 plied his mother, " he won't fail for want of application : I 
 have no trouble in keeping him at his lessons at home." 
 
 At this period a young relative came from Edinburgh to 
 pay Henry and his brothers a visit. The youthful stranger, 
 who was much fonder of play than of learning, was so pro- 
 voked mth Henry, because he would not throw aside his 
 books to join in their juvenile amusements, that he took the 
 young scholar's books and hid them. This was almost more 
 than Henry's good nature could bear. To the person who 
 had used such freedom with his books, he said, — " If you 
 were not our cousin, come out of Edinburgh to see us, I 
 would give you your licks.'''' * To take away from him his 
 books, was to touch the apple of his eye. These were the 
 favourite companions of his boyhood, and they continued to 
 be his favourites through life. Seldom was he happy if he 
 and they were long separated. Often, when a boy, was 
 he seen stretched upon the grass, poring over his book, in 
 the churchyard connected with his father's place of worship. 
 Many an hour did he spend, especially during the summer 
 months, in these solitary studies, surrounded on all hands 
 by the sepulchres of the dead. When we reflect that, at 
 the lapse of more than half a century, the same spot, where 
 his youthful form had oft reclined in the morning of life, 
 drinking in knowledge from the fountains of wisdom, after- 
 ward received his mortal remains, worn out with toil in his 
 
 * A beatinjt?. 
 
FALKIRK PARISH SCHOOL. 
 
 Master's service, how applicable to his situation the pious 
 musings of the gifted Henry Kirke White : — 
 
 Most pleasant. 
 
 -'Tis a nook 
 
 " Come, I will sit me down and meditate, 
 
 For I am wearied with my summer's walk ; 
 
 And here I may repose in silent ease : 
 
 And thus, perchance, when life's sad journey's o'er. 
 
 My harassed soul, in this same spot, may find 
 
 The haven of its rest, — heneath this sod, 
 
 Perchance, may sleep it sweetly, sound as death." 
 
 The grammar or parish school of Falkirk, where Henry 
 Belfrage received the early rudiments of his education, w^as 
 at this time superintended by Mr James Meek, a person 
 who, from the account given of him by survivors, was well 
 qualified to inspire the youthful mind w^ith a love of polite 
 literature. He was a good classical scholar, had an excellent 
 taste, and was distinguished for his correct and elegant trans- 
 lation of the Latin classics into the English language. 
 Among the various modes w^hich he adopted for promoting 
 the intellectual improvement of his pupils, he prescribed to 
 them essays on select topics, and thereby early accustomed 
 them to habits of thought and composition. Criticisms 
 were made by him on these juvenile essays, and praise or 
 censure awarded according to their comparative merits. A 
 laudable ambition to excel was thus fostered in the bosoms 
 of the youthful competitors. Under the tuition of this mas- 
 ter, and by means of these exercises, young Henry early ac- 
 quired that fondness for composition, and that taste for ele- 
 gant diction, which distinguished him through life. In the 
 race for fame, which he ran with his compeers at school, he 
 was seen pressing onward among the foremost. Activity, 
 diligence, and perseverance, characterized him, from first to 
 last, in all his pursuits. His love of learning, and his pas- 
 sionate fondness for books, did not render him unsocial. 
 He was naturally of a cheerful, buoyant disposition ; and, 
 while he was averse to every thing that bore the appearance 
 
CHARACTER OF HIS BOYHOOD. 7 
 
 of mischief or violence, he engaged with ardour in the inno- 
 cent and exhilarating sports of his school-mates. He had a 
 heart formed for friendship : It was warm and gentle. 
 While his companions at school esteemed him on account of 
 his mental endowments, they loved him on account of the 
 kindness of his disposition and the gentleness of his manner. 
 
 One of his school-fellows, who entered with him on the 
 journey of life, and who now occupies a highly respectable 
 situation as a minister in the United Secession Church,* 
 has transmitted to the writer of these pages the following ac- 
 count of the promising indications which Henry Belfrage 
 gave, during the period of his boyhood, of those excellent 
 moral and intellectual qualities which afterward blossomed 
 more fully, and brought forth such a rich harvest when he 
 reached the years of maturity : — 
 
 " He had an ambition to excel, by all fair and honour- 
 able means, his fellow-scholars. Whilst he was a regular, 
 diligent, and successful student, he was not of a reserved, 
 morose, or austere temper. He was not inclined to frown 
 on innocent mirth or youthful amusements. He was na- 
 turally of a frank, cheerful, and social disposition, which 
 made him esteemed and beloved by his fellow-scholars. 
 But while he w^as friendly to well-timed hilarity and re- 
 creation, as a relaxation from severe study, and as conducive 
 to health of body and vigour of mind, he w^as always the 
 decided enemy of vice, in whatever shape it might appear. 
 He showed himself to be a fearer of God from his youth. 
 In his early piety there was nothing affected or ostentatious, 
 nothing gloomy or forbidding ; but it was sincere, mild, and 
 attractive, which encouraged the hope of his parents and 
 friends (a hope that was afterwards fully realized), that his 
 path would be that of the just, which, like the shining light, 
 ' shineth more and more unto the perfect day.' 
 
 " In early life, he seemed to entertain a deep sense of that 
 moral dignity of demeanour, which appeared conspicuous as 
 he advanced in years ; that dignity which refuses to stoop to 
 
 * The Rev. William Schaw of Ayr. 
 
O JUVENILE AXECDOTES. 
 
 what is frivolous, mean, or base. Wilful degradation of 
 character, which exposes to merited contempt and reproach, 
 was an object which he was always most careful to avoid. 
 While he possessed a quick sensibility of what was just, 
 kind, and courteous to his fellows, he had a peculiar delicacy 
 which prompted him to abstain from all rudeness, petulance, 
 or sarcasm, — all, in short, which might have a tendency to 
 offend, or to wound their feelings. In his heart, high and 
 honourable sentiment dwelt with sympathy and love. He 
 was ready to rejoice with them that rejoiced, and to weep 
 with them that wept.'"* 
 
 As an illustration of the character here given him by his 
 early friend, the following incident may be mentioned. It 
 displays a nice sense of honour, and shows how much he was 
 afraid, even in youth, of doing any thing that might be 
 reckoned mean or improper. \Vhen a boy, he frequently 
 accompanied his father in his ministerial visitations through- 
 out the congregation. On one of these occasions, they 
 stopped and took dinner at the house of a farmer. The 
 master of the house where they dined, presented Henry with 
 a small piece of silver. Henry, afraid to take it, laid it 
 down, and looked at his father. The father smiled at the 
 embarrassment of the boy, and said, — " Oh, you may take 
 it." " Will it not be stealing, papa, if I take it ?" asked the 
 youth. " No ; it is a gift from the owner to you,"" was the 
 reply. Of this little incident he was frequently reminded by 
 the family where it happened, when he afterward visited 
 them as their minister. 
 
 He gave early indication of that indefatigable perseverance 
 by which he was afterward distinguished. When a boy, 
 of about ten years of age, he resolved one day to act the part 
 of a sentinel ; and, having mounted guard, he kept pacing 
 backward and forward, with true military zeal, at the back 
 of a wall, for the space of half a day. His father hearing of 
 what he had done, or perhaps having witnessed it, regarded 
 it as a favourable presage of what might be expected in future 
 life, from Henry's perseverance. Such traits as these, trivial 
 
PREDILECTION FOR THE MIKISTRY. 9 
 
 though in some respects they may appear, afford a better ilhis- 
 tratioii of character than can be given by the most coloured 
 verbal description. 
 
 It has already been mentioned, that his parents intended 
 him for the work of the ministry ; and the whole of his 
 education was conducted with a view to that honourable 
 office. His own heart inclined him to second the views of 
 his parents. A love of the ministry early took possession of 
 his mind. This feeling made its appearance along with the 
 first davmings of intellect. It " grew with his growth, and 
 strengthened with his strength."" It manifested itself in his 
 juvenile exercises. From the earliest indications which he 
 was able to give of the workings of his mind, he appears 
 never to have contemj^lated any prospect with regard to his 
 future employment in life, but one, and that was the prospect 
 of labouring in the work of the ministry. He would occa- 
 sionally assemble some of his young companions in the church- 
 yard, and mounting a tomb-stone, or taking his stand upon a 
 grave, would give them what he called " a preaching." A 
 servant in the family, being desirous to know how Henry 
 acquitted himself on these occasions, requested permission 
 from her mistress to be present at one of the exhibitions ; 
 but was checked with the interrogatory, what good did she 
 expect to receive from listening to the talk of a boy ? To 
 which she replied, that she hoped she would live to see 
 Henry become her minister, and that he would yet visit her in 
 her own house, when she would give him a hake and a dram,^ 
 After the lapse of a few years, the servant's anticipations 
 were, to her great joy, realized. She had the pleasure of 
 sitting under his ministry, and of receiving from him many 
 visits. Geordie Liddell, a half-witted lad, was one of the little 
 
 This refers to a practice once universal in Scotland, but now very pro- 
 perly going into disuse, of offering some refreshment, in every house, to the 
 minister, when going the round of his annual visitations, accompanied by his 
 elder. On such occasions, the refreshment presented was literally a glass of 
 spirits and a biscuit, or a piece of bread ; and it was not considered sufficiently 
 respectful to the family, if, after a blessing pronounced, the minister and elder 
 did not go through at least the form of tasting. 
 
10 ATTACHMEN*T TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 group, that attended these juvenile exhibitions in the church- 
 yard. When Geordie was in his last illness, after Mr Bel- 
 frage became minister in Falkirk, the poor man, remember- 
 ing the scenes of former days, cried out, " Oh, will no person 
 bring to me Mr Henry Bemge T'' Mr Belfrage hearing of 
 his distressed situation, paid him a visit, and prayed with 
 him; and, at parting, slipped into his hands a piece of 
 money. 
 
 When Henry was about five years of age, there happened 
 to be some company assembled in his father's house, the 
 conversation turned upon the subject of Negro Slavery, which 
 was beginning at that time to occupy public attention. 
 Young Henry was observed to listen attentively to the dis- 
 course ; and when the company were gone, he went up to his 
 mother, and pulling her by the gown, said, " Mother, I don t 
 think I can do any thing for the poor negroes, unless I go 
 and preach to them.""* His father has been heard to remark, 
 that it was from observing proofs of early piety in his fa- 
 vourite boy, that he encouraged him to go forward to the 
 work of the ministry. 
 
 Henry was much attached to his father. Nothing de- 
 lighted him more, than to be permitted to accompany him 
 in his ministerial visitations ; and when obliged to remain 
 at home, he frequently went and met him, on his return in 
 the evening, with a lantern. The people accustomed to see 
 him frequently in their houses, along with his father, and 
 pleased with his demeanour, styled him their young minister ; 
 and expressed the hope that he would be spared to break 
 amongst them the bread of life, after that his father was gone. 
 Amongst other proofs, which he gave at this early period, of 
 the strong tendency of his mind toward the work of the 
 ministry, he often called upon a pious old lady, w^ho was 
 prevented by the infirmities of age from attending upon the 
 ordinances, and repeated to her portions of his father's ser- 
 mons. This was a source of great delight to her. The 
 prospect of a son of her venerable pastor being raised up to 
 occupy his father's place, she regarded as a singular mark of 
 
LEAVES HOME FOR COLLEGE. 11 
 
 the divine favour upon the tovm and neighbourhood. She 
 often presented him with books, accompanying the gift with 
 the patriarch's prayer, that the God, before whom his father 
 did walk, would bless the lad, and make him a blessing. 
 
 His conduct at home was remarkably peaceable and kind ; 
 and with all the members of the family, young and old, he 
 was a great favourite. Once, and only once, was he known 
 to receive from his father corporal chastisement, and the 
 fault which, in this particular instance, subjected him to the 
 rod, was an act rather of boyish thoughtlessness than of wil- 
 ful or wanton mischief. A horse was sent in charge of a lad, 
 the distance of several miles, to meet one of his brothers who 
 was returning home from College. Henry, pleased with 
 the idea of getting a ride, accompanied the boy, w^ithout the 
 knowledge of his parents ; when his father learned what he 
 had done, he was so oiFended at his going without permission, 
 and at the young lad being obliged, through Henry's thought- 
 lessness, to walk all the way, both in going and coming, that 
 he chastised him, to prevent a repetition of similar conduct. 
 
 When he had entered upon his thirteenth year, he was 
 sent, along with his brother Andrew, to the University of 
 Edinburgh. There is probably no era in the life of a student 
 more eventful, than wdien he leaves, for the first time, the 
 parental roof, and enters upon his college curriculum. There, 
 he is removed from under the watchful eye, and the guardian 
 care of his parents. He mingles among strangers, and com- 
 mences acting his part in the great drama of human life. 
 His youthful breast is agitated by a variety of emotions. 
 He feels sorrow at parting with those who have been the 
 associates of his childhood and his youth, joy at the thought 
 of entering on new and more active scenes, and hope that 
 the path which he is about to pursue, v\411 conduct him to 
 distinction. When he leaves behind him the dwelling, 
 where he has probably spent the happiest part of his life, 
 and which is endeared to him by many a pleasing recollection, 
 gloomy thoughts take possession of his mind, but these are 
 mingled with bright visions of the future, which his fancy 
 
12 UNIVERSITY REMINISCENCES. 
 
 paints. Animated by the counsels addressed to him by the 
 lips of a parent, and committing himself to the care of a kind 
 and watchful providence, he takes his departure, resolving, in 
 the inexperience of his heart, that he will avoid doing what 
 is disgraceful, and that he will pursue such a course as shall 
 reflect credit upon himself and his friends. 
 
 With feelings similiar to these, did the subject of this 
 memoir leave the home of his youth, and commence his 
 career as a student. On the morning that he left home, to go 
 to College, his mother and one of his sisters accompanied him 
 for some distance upon his journey ; and when they were about 
 to separate, observing his mother to be sorrowful, he took her 
 by the hand, and said to her in an affectionate tone, " Oh, 
 mother, be not vexed, for I will not do anything bad.^' He 
 commenced his first session at College in November 1786. 
 The following account of the manner in which he conducted 
 himself at College, and of the appearance w^hich he made in 
 the classes, will be perused with interest. It has been com- 
 municated in a letter from one of Henry Belfrage's college 
 companions, one who, like himself, has acquired, by his 
 talents and industry, considerable celebrity as an author in 
 the religious world.* 
 
 " My acquaintance with Henry Belfrage commenced in 
 Edinburgh, in November 1787, when both of us were second- 
 year students at the College, he having attended the winter 
 immediately preceding, while I remained at home that sea- 
 son, having previously attended the session commencing No- 
 vember 1785. For two successive winters, four of us, viz. 
 Henry Belfrage and his elder brother Andrew, a lively youth, 
 then a student of medicine, and afterwards surgeon at Bo'ness, 
 with my brother Henry (the late Dr Dewar), and myself, 
 were all boarded in Lady Lawson's Wynd, with a Mrs Tel- 
 ford, a pious, kind, and much respected lady, — a member of 
 Dr HalFs congregation. The two Belfrages occupied one 
 room, and the Frasers another. We all, however, took our 
 
 ' The Rev. Donald Fraser, D. D. of Kcnnoway, author of the " Lives of 
 Ebenezer and Ralph Erskine," and of several other useful publications. 
 
CHARACTER AT COLLEGE. 13 
 
 various meals at one table ; and, generally, one fire and one 
 candle served us all. On the whole, we agreed wonderfully 
 well, and w^ere exceedingly happy both winters. We had 
 abundance of the gayety and buoyancy of youth. None of 
 us, probably, was so deeply thoughtful and serious as we 
 should have been ; yet I believe there was but little of that 
 direct levity that even a strict professor would severely con- 
 demn. Family worship was regularly performed morning 
 and evening, each of us taking his turn. On Sabbath, we 
 often conversed together in the evening on topics discoursed 
 on by the ministers ; and availed ourselves of a pretty good 
 library of books belonging to our amiable landlady. We 
 were all tolerably industrious in preparing our lessons and 
 reading books, during the week, generally sitting up till 
 twelve, and sometimes till one or two o'clock. We were 
 all, I think, members of two societies of Burgher students, 
 that met every week in Bristo session-house, a debating and 
 a praying society. We somewhat stimulated each other in 
 our literary pursuits. 
 
 " To confine my recollections now to Henry Belfrage, 
 who was about one year younger than I, he even then dis- 
 covered very considerable ardour, diligence, and perseverance. 
 He was quite punctual in keeping the college hours, and made 
 conscience of mastering every prescribed lesson. Had he a 
 speech or an essay to prepare, he applied to it with great 
 eagerness. He had a lively fancy, and a fondness for poetic 
 flights. Some particular verses from the poets he often re- 
 peated in our daily talk with great glee. When his father 
 came from Falkirk to see his sons, I was struck with the 
 parental tenderness of the venerable man, and with his eye 
 beaming benevolence. Henry had always a very filial heart. 
 When the close of the session approached, he used to count 
 the hours that were to run before his return to his father's 
 house. With regard to the figure he made in the classes, so 
 far as I recollect, it was considerably above mediocrity, but 
 somewhat injured by the rapidity of his utterance. He was 
 then too hasty both in speaking and writing. Dugald Stewart, 
 
14 DILIGENCE IN STUDY. 
 
 I recollect, spoke favourably of the imagination and ability 
 he discovered in an essay, and then added, ' It was so care- 
 lessly transcribed, that it was with difficulty I could read 
 
 it; " 
 
 He had a keen relish for the beauties of composition, and 
 was inclined to indulge, especially in the early part of his 
 life, in a florid style of wanting. What was tame and nerve- 
 less he could not bear. His imagination was exceedingly 
 fertile. It furnished him, at all times, with an abundant 
 supply of figures for the purposes both of ornament and of 
 illustration. In the above extracts, mention is made of his 
 taste for poetry. This continued with him through life. 
 Amid severer studies, he paid his court occasionally to the 
 muses. There were seasons w^hen the pious breathings of 
 his soul were embodied by him in verse. Like the sweet 
 singer of Israel, he now and then employed himself in the 
 composition of sacred lyrics, and they were applied by him 
 to a similar purpose, viz. the praise of his God. But these 
 effusions he kept carefully concealed even from the eye of 
 friendship. 
 
 While he resided in Edinburgh, there were two ministers, 
 both of them connected with the Establishment, whom he 
 delighted much to hear : these were Mr Greenfield and Dr 
 Andrew Brown. His taste for fine composition was grati- 
 fied by listening to them. Their style of j)reaching was ele- 
 gant, and well fitted to captivate a mind constituted such as 
 his was. 0\A4ng to the frequency of his attendance upon the 
 ministrntions of these individuals, his father w^as alarmed 
 with the report, that his son w^as going to leave the Seces- 
 sion and connect himself with the Church of Scotland. 
 
 During the intervals of the sessions of College, he resided 
 under the roof of his father, and prosecuted his studies with 
 diligence. So intent was he upon study, that when he re- 
 turned home after the first session, he wondered that his 
 mother had not got a small apartment built for him in the 
 churchyard, where he might enjoy his books in quiet, and be 
 free from the noise and bustle of the family. It was cer- 
 
AMIABLE DISPOSITION ANECDOTE. 15 
 
 tainly a great privilege which he enjoyed, that, during the 
 summer months, when he was at home from College, he was 
 under the immediate inspection of his father, and had the 
 advantage of a well selected library, as well as of parental 
 instruction. His father was both a scholar and a divine, and 
 was well fitted, in every respect, for superintending the 
 studies of his son. As Henry advanced in life, his mind 
 ojDened apace. By a careful improvement of his time when 
 at home, and by diligent application to his studies when at- 
 tending the University, he became well acquainted with the 
 various departments of polite literature. He was a good 
 classical scholar ; and the knowledge which he acquired of 
 the Greek and Hebrew languages, was such as enabled him 
 with ease to study critically the Scriptures in the original. 
 
 When he left his native roof to mingle in the active 
 scenes of life, the kindness and gentleness of his disposition 
 continued the same as ever. The sympathies of his heart 
 were easily called into play. He studied to promote the 
 comfort of others no less than his own. A favour done to 
 him he gratefully repaid ; while he regarded with detestation 
 every thing that bore the appearance of selfishness, or injustice, 
 or cruelty. The following amiable trait, illustrative of the 
 kindness of his heart, and of his attention to the comfort of 
 others, even though occupying an humble station in life, de- 
 serves to be recorded. At the time he attended College, 
 water was an article of considerable scarcity in Edinburgh. 
 No means had then been adopted for bringing it in by pipes, 
 as at present, from the Crawley Springs. In many instances 
 it was a matter of difiiculty, even by paying a price for it, to 
 obtain a sufficient supply for family purposes. During one 
 of the winters that Henry and his brother Andrew lodged 
 together, a servant of their aunt brought them a pail-full of 
 water every morning, — carrying it the distance of about half 
 a mile. As oft as the servant came, Henry, grateful for the 
 service thus rendered, had a cup of warm coffee prepared to 
 give her. How few young men, in his situation, would have 
 thought it worth their while to put themselves to any trouble 
 
16 EARLY CORRESPOXDEXCE. 
 
 to study tlie comfort of a menial. What a beneficial effect 
 would it have upon the feelings and happiness of that humble, 
 but useful class of persons, if those whom they serve, would 
 show the same attention to their personal comfort, that 
 our young student did. The girl never forgot his kindness. 
 Several years afterward, when she was married and settled 
 in life, having received intelligence that he was to preach in 
 Edinburgh, she travelled a distance of sixteen miles to hear 
 him. After the discourse she waited upon him ; when he, 
 mindful of her former attention to him, gave her at parting 
 half a guinea. 
 
 During his attendance at College, he frequently corres- 
 ponded, by letter, wnth the different members of his father\s 
 family at home. The following are some of the fragments 
 of this correspondence, which have been preserved. They 
 are chiefly interesting, as illustrative of that amiable and af- 
 fectionate disposition, which formed one of the most delightful 
 features of his character, both in youth and in advanced life. 
 Writing to his father, he says : — 
 
 " I am extremely well pleased with my classes here. I am 
 beloved and respected by my master and fellow-students. I am 
 well in my health, and comfortable in my lodgings. I am happy 
 to hear from home, that my mother is continuing better : I hope 
 that her jaunt to Stirling will do her good. I hope that your and 
 the family's peace will be no more disturbed by this affair of the 
 helper. Your peace will ever be dear to me ; and to hear of its 
 being broken by this or any other matter, would give me the 
 bitterest concern." 
 
 His father had written to him, to consult his uncle, Mr 
 Whyt, concerning a law case. After stating, in a letter to 
 his father, Mr. Whyt's opinion, he makes his own remarks, 
 as follows : 
 
 " It is a great pity but that something should be done for 
 The brutality of to his wife, is the most un- 
 
 accountable thing I ever knew. It is unprovoked malice in the 
 liigliest degree. If he were meeting with improper behaviour 
 
LETTER TO HIS MOTHER. 17 
 
 from her, there might be some shadow of excuse for him, though 
 even then his conduct would be mean and unworthy. But to 
 persecute, to harass and imbitter her existence, who ought of all 
 others to be dearest to him, is not like a man but a devil. His 
 heart must be dead to every gentle disposition. He shows him- 
 self a stranger to the religion of Jesus, which is a system of 
 benevolence, and to the example of our Saviour, who, though 
 under the pressure of calamity, and suffering the most excru- 
 ciating torture, forgot not his nearest relation, but recommended 
 her to the protection of the friend of his bosom, in his last hour.'^ 
 
 Having received from a friend a present of a small sum 
 of money, he could not be satisfied until he sent a portion of 
 it home to his mother, as a proof of his filial regard. The 
 donation was accompanied by the following letter : — 
 
 " I am highly pleased with my classes. I have this day en- 
 tered a French class, and with Scott I mean to attend a writing- 
 master, to improve my hand. If the people I stay with con- 
 tinue as kind and attentive as at present, my residence here 
 will be very comfortable. I am rather uneasy at being so long 
 from home ; but as I know I shall be the better of it, and that it 
 will be the last time of coming here to stay, I will submit to it. 
 To your care I commit my books. From my friends, particularly 
 my uncle and aunt, I receive the most unbounded attention. I 
 hope that the family are as well as usual. May the providence of 
 God defend us from all evil : May the Almighty befriend us in 
 every exigency of life, and raise us in due time to those celestial 
 mansions where the wise and the virtuous shall be happy for 
 ever. Trust in God is the best remedy under the calamities of 
 life, and it is this which gives a relish to prosperity. He will 
 never forsake the upright. His blessing rests upon the habitation 
 of the good ; and sooner or later they ever shall be prosperous. 
 My kindest compliments to my dear father, sisters, and brothers. 
 I hope that the children will be going soon to school. With my 
 dearest wishes for your happiness, I am, my dear mother, your 
 affectionate son, 
 
 " Henry Belfrage. 
 
 " I am exceedingly happy in sending a small mark of my 
 
18 ATTACHMENT TO THE SECESSION. 
 
 affection. I could not enjoy my present without making you a 
 partaker of it." 
 
 Mr. Belfrage, as has already been stated, looked forward 
 from an early period to the work of the ministry as his em- 
 ployment through life When the period arrived for enter- 
 ing upon the study of divinity, he had not his choice to 
 make. He had long resolved to consecrate his talents and 
 learning, and all that he possessed, to the service of his 
 divine Master. Nor did he hesitate whether he should be- 
 come a minister in the Establishment or in the Secession 
 Church. To the Establishment he cherished, through life, 
 a feeling of good-vdll ; and wdth many of its ministers he was 
 in habits of friendly intercourse. But the abuses connected 
 with it as a Church, were too numerous and too glaring to 
 permit him ever once to entertain the idea of becoming a la- 
 bourer within its precincts. His feelings and his judgment 
 alike inclined him to the Secession. He had been trained up 
 at the feet of one of the most venerable of its ministers. He 
 approved of its constitution. He loved the simplicity of its 
 forms ; and he knew, from his own observation, the purity 
 and fidelity of its administration. 
 
 There is no Church which requires its candidates for the 
 office of the ministry to undergo a more complete course of 
 training than the Secession ; and there is none which 
 watches over them, at every stage of their progress, wdth 
 more incessant care. After they leave school, their course 
 of training includes a period of at least eight, and not unfre- 
 quently nine, years. Three, but much more frequently 
 four, years are spent by them in attending one of the Scottish 
 Universities. During this period they are required to study 
 the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages; and must also make 
 themselves acquainted with Logic, and with Moral and Na- 
 tural Philosophy. Premous to their admission to the study 
 of divinity, they must be examined by the Presb}i;ery on all 
 these branches of learning. They usually undergo, at the 
 same time, an examination with regard to their personal 
 
COURSE OF STUDY IN THE SECESSION CHURCH. 19 
 
 piety, and their motives in seeking to enter into the office of 
 the ministry. Having given satisfaction to the Presbytery 
 in these various jDarticulars, they are then permitted to be- 
 come students in the Theological Seminary. Here they are 
 required to attend five sessions, — each session consisting of 
 not less than eight weeks. During the course of their at- 
 tendance at the Theological Seminary, they enjoy the benefit 
 of the prelections of four professors. The first and second 
 years of the course, they attend the lectures of the Professor 
 of Biblical Literature, and the Professor of Exegetical Theo- 
 logy, or Exposition of the Holy Scriptures ; the third, fourth, 
 and fifth years, they are under the superintendence of the 
 Professor of Systematic Theology, and the Professor of Pas- 
 toral Theology and Ecclesiastical History. They are sub- 
 jected to frequent examinations on the subjects of the pro- 
 fessors' lectures. They are required to read, and critically 
 to analyze, portions of the Old and New Testaments in the 
 original languages. Each professor requires all the students 
 under his charge to deliver, every session, either a lecture, a 
 sermon, or a critical dissertation. Once or twice in the course 
 of the year they are required by the Presbytery, within whose 
 bounds they reside, to appear before them and deliver a dis- 
 course on some prescribed subject ; and also to be examined 
 on some particular department of theology. Such is the 
 course of training to which the Secession Church requires its 
 candidates for the ministry to submit, before it licenses them 
 to preach the Gospel. 
 
 It is proper, however, to remark, that of late years a con- 
 siderable enlargement of the course has taken place. At the 
 time when Mr Belfrage commenced the study of divinity, 
 there was only one Theological Professor whom the students 
 were required to attend. The Theological Seminary of the 
 Associate Synod was, at that period, under the superintend- 
 ence of the Rev. George Lawson of Selkirk. He had lately 
 succeeded, in this important charge, the Rev. John Brown 
 of Haddington. There are many to whom the mentioning 
 
20 Sf:LKlKK REV. GEORGE LAWSO\'. 
 
 of the name of Selkirk^ will even yet bring up a variety of 
 delightful recollections. Situated in a most interesting dis- 
 trict of country, imbosomed in the midst of lofty and verdant 
 mountains, possessing all the seclusion and quiet of a small 
 country town, and surrounded on all hands by scenes of 
 sylvan beauty, where the student can pursue his solitary 
 w^alk, and indulge in meditation without interruption from 
 any human being, — it is scarcely possible that any locality 
 could be better adapted for being the seat of a school of divi- 
 nity. Here all the theological students belonging to the 
 Associate Synod assembled every year, about the beginning 
 of August, and continued till about the middle or end of 
 September. The weeks which they spent in this sweet re- 
 tirement, wTre ordinarily weeks of great enjoyment. ^Many 
 of them, during the remaining part of the year, w^ere en- 
 gaged in the laborious employment of teaching ; and this 
 was to them a season of relaxation. Warm-hearted friends, 
 who seldom, if ever, saw one another except during the meet- 
 ings of the Hall, here met and cemented the friendships 
 which had previously been formed : and many, many of 
 these friendships, though interrupted for a season by death, 
 w^e doubt not, are destined to continue through eternity. 
 
 The Rev. George Lawson, under whose superintendence 
 the students prosecuted the study of divinity, during the 
 weeks they spent at Selkirk, was a person eminently qua- 
 lified for the charge which the Synod had devolved upon 
 him. Before he was appointed, in 1787, to fill the Theolo- 
 gical Chair, his attainments in biblical learning were so 
 great, that he could quote readily from memory, either in 
 the original Hebrew or Greek, or in the English version, 
 and explain extempore^ and with critical precision, almost 
 any portion of the sacred volume. " He needed no con- 
 cordance, and he used none. Notwithstanding unremitting 
 attention to every pastoral duty required in a considerable 
 congregation, widely spread over the country, such were his 
 well-known attainments, that at the age of thirty-eight years, 
 he was appointed Professor of Divinity by the Synod to 
 
THEOLOGICAL COURSE AT SELKIRK. ^1 
 
 which he belonged.'" The Rev. David Greig of Lochgelly, 
 who was long and intimately acquainted with him, and who 
 w^as no mean judge of merit in others, pronounced the fol- 
 lowing high eulogium upon his varied and transcendent ac- 
 quirements. Addressing a young friend, who was about to 
 commence his theological studies under Professor Lawson, 
 he said to him, — " You are going to be taught by a man, 
 every way so learned and excellent, that probably he has 
 not, in these respects, ten equals, or one superior in Scot- 
 land ; and, what is best of all, he does not himself know or 
 suppose that such is or can be the case."'* 
 
 The following is an outline of the mode in which Pro- 
 fessor Lawson conducted the studies of the young men dur- 
 ing the period of their attendance upon his prelections :— 
 
 " The plan of Dr Lawson's theological course was simple 
 and judicious. It was his wish that every student, during 
 the period of his attendance at the Hall, should have an op- 
 portunity of hearing his whole course of lectures on theoreti- 
 cal and practical divinity. For this purpose, though each 
 session continued only nine weeks, he regularly went over 
 his full course on the system in five sessions. The students 
 were regularly examined on the subject of the lectures which 
 they had heard, — a practice admirably calculated to secure 
 their attention, and to promote their improvement. 
 
 " The doctor was accustomed also, every session, to 
 make his pupils read w^ith him, and critically analyze a part 
 of the Holy Scriptures in the original Hebrew and Greek. 
 Pertinent questions were proposed by him, on such occa- 
 sions, leading, at once, to the formation of the sound critic, 
 and the edifying practical exposition of the divine Word. 
 The continued study of the original languages of the Holy 
 Scriptures, and of their criticism, and of the practical use of 
 the sacred volume, were thus strongly recommended. A 
 laudable ambition to excel in these important exercises was 
 excited and kept alive, and, in many cases, led to very valu- 
 able results. 
 
 * Christian Repository, vol. v. p. 208, 
 
^^ THEOLOGICAL COURSE AT SELKIRK. 
 
 " During the course of his first session of attendance, 
 every student was required to prepare and dehver a homily 
 on a subject assigned him by the professor ; and generally 
 to prepare two, and sometimes three, discourses, each of the 
 other four sessions. All the subjects were assigned by the 
 professor at the close of one session, on which discourses 
 were required to be ready for being delivered the session fol- 
 lowing. Of these discourses, some were lectures, others 
 sermons ; some critical, and others practical ; and one or more 
 of them popular, to be delivered, not only before the profes- 
 sor and students, but before all the people who chose to at- 
 tend. 
 
 " Before delivering his own remarks on these discourses, 
 the professor gave every student who chose, an opportunity 
 of oftering his criticisms on what he had heard. Veneration 
 for the enlightened and liberal tutor, was found sufficient, in 
 almost every instance, to prevent hasty and uncandid re- 
 marks. Few availed themselves, prematurely, of the privi- 
 lege ; but almost all were zealous in preparing themselves for 
 doing it wisely. It was, generally, by those who had at- 
 tended for three or four sessions, that observations on the 
 discourses were made. Always kept under proper regula- 
 tion by the superintendence of the professor, this exercise 
 became a source of much improvement among the young 
 men. 
 
 " No time or pains, which might promise to be useful, 
 were spared by the venerable guide of their studies. On 
 Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, he convened 
 his pupils twice a-day, and once on Wednesdays and Sa- 
 turdays ; so that his ordinary sederunts with them, every 
 week, were ten, or ninety in the course of each session. For 
 the most part, these sederunts were long; not a scanty hour, 
 but whatever portion of time was requisite for the important 
 object in view, was cheerfully bestowed. On those days on 
 which the professor met only in the forenoon with his stu- 
 dents, they either met in the afternoon by themselves, to de- 
 liver, hear, and criticise essays on important subjects, for 
 
THEOLOGICAL COURSE AT SELKIRK. 2^ 
 
 their mutual improvement; or, in the evening, along with 
 all the Christian people vrho chose to attend. These public 
 meetings were held six times in each session ; at every such 
 meeting, three of the students, in rotation, or by appoint- 
 ment, each gave out a psalm or hymn, and prayed ; and 
 two others delivered short prepared and practical discourses 
 or addresses. Often the whole, and always a part of the exer- 
 cises at these meetings, was connected with the great and 
 most interesting subject of evangelizing the world, by the 
 dissemination of the divine word among all nations, in their 
 vernacular languages, and by the labours of Christian mis- 
 sionaries. As long as his bodily strength enabled him, the 
 professor attended these meetings, to render them as useful 
 as possible by his presence. He always spoke last himself 
 on these occasions, and concluded with prayer. These meet- 
 ings were well attended, and highly useful both to the stu- 
 dents and people. They tended to cherish devotion and a 
 missionary spirit in all, and to form the young men for ad- 
 dressing a public audience with ease and readiness. 
 
 " Every meeting of the Hall was begun and closed with 
 prayer. With great fervour of devotion, the professor him- 
 self opened the first, and closed the last sederunt of each 
 week, and the students, by rotation, opened and closed the 
 other meetings with prayer. 
 
 " From this short account, it appears that the meetings, 
 ordinary and extraordinary, of the professor with his stu- 
 dents, each session, were ninety-six. The average time de- 
 voted to each meeting was probably more, but certainly not 
 less, than an hour and a half, or 144 each of the five sessions 
 of attendance. This, it will be observed, is considerably 
 more than the average time devoted to the public instruction 
 of their pupils by the theological professors in the different 
 Universities. If we take the average of their sessions at 
 twenty-four weeks, and their weekly meetings at five, each 
 of an hour's length, the time employed by them in public in- 
 struction each session will be 120 hours. This, it is known, 
 is more than is really so employed, and yet it comes con- 
 
24 THEOLOGICAL COURSE AT SELKIRK. 
 
 siderably short of the time devoted by Dr Lawson to the 
 instruction of his pupils, in his session of only nine weeks' 
 continuance. If the session was short, it had the advantage 
 of being wholly devoted to theological studies. The bell 
 never, as at the Universities, broke oiF any important busi- 
 ness unfinished. The students were never called off as tu- 
 tors, or in any other character, to attend elsewhere to other 
 business, and forget the sacred investigations in which they 
 had been engaged. Teaching schools, or acting as tutors to 
 young gentlemen, is the common, necessary, and in many 
 respects highly useful employment, for the greater part of 
 the year, of the great majority of theological students, both in 
 the Established Church and among Dissenters. This makes 
 it a matter of great importance, and almost of indispensable 
 necessity, that the sessions of the Divinity Hall, in such a 
 body as the Secession, be short, and that they be held dur- 
 ing the harvest vacations of schools and other seminaries of 
 learning. 
 
 " Such is a general outline of Dr Lawson's mode of con- 
 ducting the studies of the young men put under his care. 
 These were occasionally varied, according to times and cir- 
 cumstances, and to serve important purposes. To this plan, 
 however, so comprehensive, so judiciously adapted to cir- 
 cumstances, and so well calculated, through the divine bless- 
 ing, to form his pupils for being able, pious, and useful 
 ministers of Christ, Dr Lawson adhered, in its substance, for 
 the thirty-three years of his professorship. In pursuing it, 
 the w^hole circle of human learning was ever at his com- 
 mand. The powers of original and transcendent genius 
 were ever manifest. The most profound discussion became 
 always simple and plain under his management.''* 
 
 Such was the course of theological training to which Mr 
 Belfrage was subjected, in common with his fellow-students, 
 while prosecuting the study of divinity, under the able and 
 enlightened tuition of Professor Lawson. He entered the 
 
 * Memoir of the Rev. George Lawson, D. D., in the Christian Repository 
 for 1820. 
 
COMMENCES THE STUDY OF DIVINITY. ^5 
 
 Divinity Hall in autumn 1789 ; and he prosecuted his 
 studies there with the same assiduity and zeal which he had 
 manifested during the preceding part of his course. When 
 he entered upon the study of divinity, he had little more 
 than completed his fifteenth year. He remembered, how- 
 ever, the advice given by Paul to his young friend Timothy, 
 " Let no man despise thy youth.'' Accordingly, it was re- 
 marked of him, at this period, that he was less lively, and 
 more grave and sedate, than he had been at College. He 
 considered that the conduct of a student in divinity ought to 
 be exemplary, no less than that of a minister ; and, young 
 though he was, he endeavoured to recommend religion to 
 others, by the holiness and consistency of his life. 
 
 The subject of his first discourse at the Hall w^as pecu- 
 liarly suited to the natural cast of his mind. It was, — 
 " Pious Meditation,'' founded on Psalm i. 2; " But his de- 
 light is in the law of the Lord ; and in his law doth he me- 
 ditate day and night." The discourse, as a specimen of 
 composition, was respectable ; and was favourably received 
 by the professor and students. During his attendance at 
 the Hall, Mr Belfrage seldom, if ever, ventured to make any 
 critical remarks upon the discourses of his fellow- students. 
 This was owing to natural timidity, or modesty, rather than 
 to any want of ability ; for after he became a minister, there 
 was no exercise in which he excelled more, or in which he 
 proved himself more useful, as a member of a church-court, 
 than in the judicious and able manner in which he made 
 observations on the discourses of the young men, wdien they 
 appeared before the Presbytery as candidates for license or 
 for ordination. 
 
 During the period that Mr Belfrage attended the Divi- 
 nity Hall, he still prosecuted his studies at College. The 
 months of his attendance at the Hall, each session, were 
 August and September ; and instead of remaining at home 
 during the winter months, he went to Edinburgh, and at- 
 tended some of the classes at the LTniversity. So that, from 
 the period of thirteen, when he first left school, till tlie 
 
26 RECEIVES LICENSE. 
 
 period of nineteen, when he was licensed, his winter months 
 were spent almost wholly within the precincts of a College. 
 In this way was his mind richly stored with a variety of 
 useful knowledge ; and, in so far as the learning of this world 
 was concerned, he became eminently qualified, by the long 
 curriculum through which he passed, for that station of emi- 
 nence and of usefulness in the church of Christ, which he 
 was afterward called upon to occupy. 
 
 At that period, the demand for preachers by the Asso- 
 ciate Synod was urgent ; and Mr Belfrage, along with the 
 other divinity students, who were of the same standing with 
 himself, was required to take license, before he had com- 
 pleted the prescribed course at the Hall.* Mr Belfrage's 
 whole time had been devoted, from his earliest years, to pre- 
 paration for the work of the ministry. Considering the 
 peculiar advantages which he had enjoyed, both from his 
 father's instructions at home, and also from his long attend- 
 ance at College, few young men were ever called upon to 
 preach the Gospel, with a mind more thoroughly disciplined 
 for the work than his was. Obeying the summons given him 
 by the Associate Synod, he appeared before the Presbytery 
 of Stirling and Falkirk, on the 16th of May 1793, and being 
 examined by them with regard to his knowledge of divinity, 
 he had the usual trial exercises prescribed to him, with a 
 view to license. These exercises he finished to the com- 
 plete satisfaction of the Presbytery, on the 1st July, the 
 same year, when he was licensed to preach the everlasting 
 Gospel. 
 
 * Instead of attending five sessions at the Hall, he attended only four. 
 
27 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 FROM HIS LICENSE TO HIS FIRST VISIT TO LONDON. 
 
 Probationers of the Secession Church. Mr Belfrage's popularity as a 
 preacher. His personal appearance. Receives calls from Falkirk, 
 Saltcoats, and Lochwinnoch. Ordination at Falkirk. Prosperity 
 of his congregation. His brother Andrew. Extracts from his 
 brother's letters. Death and character of his father. Letters from 
 the Rev. Robert Greig of Stitchell. Miles' Lane congregation, 
 London. Mr Belfrage's first visit to London. Letters from London. 
 
 According to the rules of the Secession Church, when a 
 Presbytery licenses any individual to preach the Gospel, they 
 are required to give a report to the Synod, at its first meet- 
 ing, of the fact of his being licensed. His name is then in- 
 serted, by order of Synod, in the list of preachers. At each 
 meeting, a scheme of appointments is draw^n out, containing 
 the names of all the probationers, and pointing out the par- 
 ticular districts where each is to labour during the months 
 that intervene betwixt one meeting of Synod and another. 
 The scheme is, in general, so methodically prepared, and so 
 skilfully arranged, that all the preachers, whatever be their 
 number, succeed one another, according to a certain rotation, 
 in the different Presbyteries. In going the round of their 
 Synodical appointments, they have an opportunity afforded 
 them of preaching, in their turn, in the vacant congregations 
 belonging to the Association. By this arrangement, the con- 
 gregations who are in want of a minister, have it in their 
 
POPULARITY AS A PREACHER. 
 
 power to hear a variety of preachers, even though they should 
 be situated in a remote district of country ; and in making a 
 selection of one to break amongst them the bread of life, 
 there is no limitation to their choice. They have the privi- 
 lege of calling any probationer who is on the list. In giving 
 a call, every member of the congregation, who is not under 
 scandal, has the right of voting. It frequently happens that 
 the same individual is called by more than one congrega- 
 tion. Formerly, when a case of competition occurred be- 
 twixt two or more congregations calling the same person, it 
 was usually referred to the Synod to determine to which of 
 the congregations he ought to be sent. But now the 
 United Associate Synod leave it, under certain regulations, 
 to the person who receives more than one call, to declare 
 which of the calls he is inclined to accept ; and he is forth- 
 with appointed to be ordained in that congregation to which 
 he gives the preference. 
 
 Mr Belfrage having received license, took his place 
 amongst the probationers of the Secession Church. Where- 
 ever he was appointed to preach, his labours were peculiarly 
 acceptable. Few^ preachers ever enjoyed a greater share of 
 popularity than he did. His popularity was not of the me- 
 teor-kind, blazing for a moment, and then speedily expiring, 
 when the novelty which gave it birth had ceased. It rested 
 upon a solid foundation, and instead of diminishing, it con- 
 tinued to increase. A variety of favourable circumstances 
 combined to render him an object of attraction to the con- 
 gregations. When he commenced his career as a preacher, 
 he was youthful in his appearance, having little more than 
 completed his nineteenth year. His person was tall and com- 
 manding. He had a most pleasing countenance, which 
 indicated great sweetness and benevolence of disposition. 
 His dark and expressive eyes sparkled when he spoke. The 
 tones of his voice were soft and silvery. They fell upon 
 the ear like music. There was a peculiar pathos in his 
 manner. He spoke like one desirous to find the w^ay to 
 the hearts of his hearers. The style of his preaching was 
 
RECEIVES THREE CALLS. gf) 
 
 ornate; but, at the same time, it was richly imbued with 
 the language of Scripture. His discourses possessed, in 
 a high degree, a union of doctrinal statement and practical 
 illustration. A spirit of devotion breathed throughout the 
 whole. While the beauty of his language, and the rich- 
 ness of his imagery, were fitted to secure for him a favour- 
 able hearing from the young, there was an unction — a 
 mtouriness — in almost every thing he uttered, flowing as 
 it were fresh from the Cross, that was peculiarly pleasing to 
 the experienced Christian. 
 
 It was not to be expected that a preacher who possessed 
 so many recommendations, should remain long without a 
 call. His father's congregation in Falkirk had been looking 
 forward to his license with eager expectation ; and scarcely 
 had he made his appearance in public, when they adopted 
 measures to invite him to become colleague to his revered 
 parent. On the 31st of August 1793, a most harmonious call 
 was given to him by that congregation. The Rev. ^Michael 
 GilfiUan, of Dunblane, presided on the occasion. The call 
 was most numerously subscribed, there being no fewer than 
 643 names appended to it. Soon after this, calls were given 
 to him by two other congregations, — Saltcoats and Lochwin- 
 noch. According to the usual practice at that period, it was 
 referred to the Supreme Court to determine in which of these 
 places he should labour. When the Associate Synod met in 
 the month of May, the following year, their decision was 
 given in favour of Falkirk. " On that occasion, his father 
 made a speech, from the fulness of his heart, in favour of his 
 people's claim ; and when that court, by a unanimous deci- 
 sion, appointed Mr Belfrage to be minister in Falkirk, he re- 
 garded it as the sanction of Heaven to a relation which 
 should unite his son more closely to him. He rejoiced in it, 
 not merely as what might be his solace in advanced life, and 
 a comfort to his family, but as likely to maintain the peace 
 of his congregation, and most earnest were his prayers that it 
 might contribute to advance their best interests.'' 
 
 His ordination took place at Falkirk, on the 18th of 
 
so ORDINATION AT FALKIRK. 
 
 June 1794. The Rev. Robert Campbell, of Stirling, com- 
 menced the services of the day, by preaching a discourse from 
 Ezekiel iii. 17 ; " Son of man, I have made thee a watchman 
 unto the house of Israel," &c. His father, who presided, 
 preached the ordination sermon, from Acts xx. 28 ; " Take 
 heed to yourselves, and to all the fiock over which the Holy 
 Ghost hath made you overseers, to feed the church of God, 
 which he hath purchased with his own blood. "" The con- 
 nection formed on this occasion was a happy one to all the 
 parties concerned. The father rejoiced in having his son to 
 be a fellow-labourer with him in the ministry. The son re- 
 joiced that he was called, in the providence of God, to occupy 
 a station where he would enjoy the benefit of his father's 
 counsels, and where he would have it in his power to soothe, 
 by his kind attentions, the declining years of his much-be- 
 loved 23arents. The people rejoiced in having placed over 
 them a w^orkman who gave such promising indications of 
 future usefulness, and whose varied accomplishments so well 
 fitted him to sustain amongst them the dignity of the minis- 
 terial character. 
 
 In a memorial of his father, which filial affection prompted 
 him to draw up, and which was afterward published by him 
 in his " Monitor to Families,'" he expresses, in the follow- 
 ing terms, the high satisfaction which he enjoyed, in being 
 ordained as his father's colleague, and the great happiness 
 which he experienced in his new relation. " Cordiality, 
 perfect and uninterrupted, blessed this connection, nor could 
 it be imbittered by any of those feelings which sometimes 
 have rendered such situations so miserable. The Apostle 
 Paul beautifully says of Timothy, ' As a son with a father, 
 he served w^ith me in the Gospel,' words expressing their 
 harmonious and affectionate co-operation in the work of the 
 Lord, and they were fully realized in this conjunction in the 
 ministry, where affection in the one case was mingled with 
 entire confidence, and in the other with the highest respect. 
 What a blessing was such a situation to one ordained to the 
 ministry at twenty years of age ! Its advantages and its plea- 
 
LABOURS WITH GREAT ASSIDUITY. 31 
 
 sures must be objects of his grateful remembrance to his 
 dying day." 
 
 After his ordination at Falkirk, Mr Belfrage commenced 
 that course of arduous and unwearied labour, for which he 
 was distinguished throughout the whole of his ministerial 
 career. The congregation over which he was ordained, was 
 respectable for its numbers, and it was still more so for its 
 intelligence and piety. Almost from its infancy it had been 
 fed with the finest of the wheat. In the early stage of its 
 existence, it had been favoured, for a period of ten years, 
 with the ministrations of Mr Henry Erskine, son of Mr 
 Ralph Erskine of Dunfermline. He was succeeded by Mr 
 Belfrage's father, who had now laboured among them for the 
 long period of thirty-six years. His theological attainments 
 were of no ordinary kind. His pastoral diligence and fidelity 
 were also great, and a people, the greater part of whom had 
 been trained up from their infancy under the ministrations 
 of such an individual, could scarcely fail to rank high for 
 their scriptural knowledge and their christian conduct. On 
 the cultivation of this field, Mr Henry Belfrage entered at 
 the early age of twenty. His flock was scattered over an 
 extensive district of country, spreading out in all directions 
 to the distance of several miles. To perform the ordinary 
 routine of ministerial duty amongst them, in visiting and 
 catechising, required no small physical strength, as vrell as 
 a considerable portion of mental energy. But our young 
 minister plied his holy vocation amongst them with an as- 
 siduity, a prudence, and a kindness, which have rarely been 
 equalled, and never surpassed. The sick and the poor received 
 a large share of his attention. Often did he direct his 
 steps to the chamber of the afflicted and the dying. The 
 young were the objects of his affectionate solicitude ; and the 
 aged found in him a kind-hearted comforter and friend. He 
 made a point of preparing regularly for the pulpit ; and the 
 time which he was able to spare from his numerous avoca- 
 tions, was faithfully employed by him in the improvement of 
 his own mind. 
 
32 EARLY PART OF HIS MINISTRY. 
 
 One of his early companions, already mentioned in a 
 preceding part of this memoir,* and who was at that period 
 a memher of Mr Belfrage's congregation, has transmitted the 
 following account of the commencement of his ministry at 
 Falkirk : — " That day on which this sacred union was con- 
 summated (the day of the ordination), was hailed by all 
 parties concerned, as most auspicious. It was a day which 
 they desired to see, and in which they delighted ; and there can 
 be no doubt that the sincere and fervent prayers which were 
 presented to the only Head of the Church, that he would pour 
 down, in rich abundance, the influences of his Holy Spirit, 
 to accompany and to follow the solemn services which were 
 then performed, received a gracious answer in the blessed 
 experience of many who are now in heaven, and of some who 
 are still upon earth. And the WTiter of this can testify, that 
 the person then ordained to the holy oihce of the ministry, 
 though but a youth, was a youth of great promise ; and the 
 hopes, which were entertained by the devout and intelligent 
 of the congregation, were not disappointed as he advanced in 
 life. As his day so was his strength, to perform the various 
 and important duties to which he was called. And it deserves 
 particularly to be noticed, that in his prayers there appeared 
 a piety, accompanied with a solemnity and pathos, w^hich has 
 been but rarely equalled. They clearly showed the workings 
 of a mind familiarly acquainted with heavenly intercourse, 
 and were admirably fitted to prepare the hearers, for listening 
 with devout attention to the word afterward read or preached. 
 " His discourses, in the early part of his ministry, while 
 savoury with evangelical truth, in which he had an excellent 
 instructor in his father, abounded in figurative allusions, which 
 showed an exuberancy of fancy peculiarly attractive to the 
 young. And such a luxuriance, which rigid criticism would 
 say required the pruning knife, indicated a fertility in the 
 soil whence it sprung, which the culture of maturer years 
 did greatly improve. The delivery of his discourses, at this 
 period, was rapid and fluent. It called forth great bodily 
 
 * Rev. "William Schaw. 
 
MUCH 15ELOVED AS A MTNTSTEK. S3 
 
 exertion, and was exhausting to the animal spirits. It was, 
 however, accompanied with a gravity, a warmth, and earnest- 
 ness, which rendered him exceedingly popular. This was 
 manifest from the members of the congregation greatly in- 
 creasing, and from the crowded audiences which he usually 
 had, when he preached on the evening of the Lord's Day, 
 which was the custom so long as the collegiate charge con- 
 tinued. His delivery, though afterward it became much 
 more slow, was always solemn and often pathetic, which 
 secured his popularity, to the end of his days." 
 
 A new impulse was given to the congregation by the 
 ordination of Mr Belfrage. His popularity as a preacher, 
 his ministerial diligence, his prudent conduct, and unaffected 
 piety, speedily secured for him a high standing in the church. 
 Multitudes were attracted to his ministry by the excellence 
 of his pulpit exhibitions, as well as by his amiable manners 
 in the private intercourse of life. In his own immediate 
 neighbourhood, where he was best known, he was a favourite 
 with all classes ; and in his history is to be found a most 
 distinguished exception to the truth of the Scripture proverb, 
 that " A prophet hath no honour in his own country."' A 
 rapid increase of his flock took place, and the tide of pros- 
 perity, which set in upon his congregation, scarcely met with 
 a single check during the whole course of his ministry. Soon 
 after his settlement, the controversy concerning the magis- 
 trates' power in matters of religion, began to be agitated in 
 the Associate Synod. He, himself, did not take any pro- 
 minent part in the controversy, but the consequence of it 
 was the secession from the congregation of a small number 
 of persons, who w^ere attached to what has been ordinarily 
 termed Old Light principles. The breach, if breach it 
 could be called, was so insignificant, as scarcely to aftect the 
 appearance of the congregation. 
 
 During the short period that his father was spared to 
 labour along with him, he found in him a wise counsellor and 
 an excellent co-adjutor. They went, hand in hand togethei-, 
 in every good work. The father shared with the son the 
 
34 HIS BROTHER ANDREW, 
 
 labours of the pulpit upon Sabbath, and frequently accom- 
 panied him in his visitations during the week. In the com- 
 munication from Dr. Fraser of Kennoway, noticed above, 
 the writer says, " A few weeks after his ordination, I had 
 the pleasure of spending one night in his father's house. I 
 was delighted in the morning to see the father and son set 
 off together, on horseback, to visit some distant district of 
 the congregation. '"* 
 
 Three years after his ordination, he was called upon to 
 mourn the loss of a beloved brother, — a brother to whom 
 his heart was knit in the warmest affection. This was 
 his brother Andrew. They had been first at school, and 
 then at College together, and until separated (after reach- 
 ing the period of manhood), to follow their respective em- 
 ployments in different regions of the globe, they had tra- 
 velled side by side in the journey of life. Andrew was a young 
 man of great promise. In him excellent natural talents were 
 combined with all the accomplishments which a complete 
 education could impart. Having devoted himself to the 
 medical profession, he commenced business in a country town, 
 where he was much respected and beloved ; but, after a short 
 period, he received an appointment, as surgeon, in the army. 
 The regiment, to which he was appointed, was under the 
 command of Colonel Abercrombie, son of the gallant Sir 
 Ralph. When he received his appointment, the regiment 
 was engaged in active service in the West Indies. He fol- 
 lowed it thither, assisted in the capture of several islands, 
 and was rising rapidly in his profession, when he fell an 
 untimely victim to the yellow fever. After an illness of two 
 days, he descended to the grave, amid the tears and regrets 
 of both officers and men. We give a few extracts from the 
 letters of this accomplished youth to his friends at home. 
 They have been extracted from an account of him, written 
 by his brother Henry, as a tribute of affection to his memory, 
 but w^hich was never published. 
 
 In a letter written immediately after his arrival in the 
 West Indies, speaking of his voyage, he says : — 
 
LETTERS FROM HIS BROTHER ANDREW. So 
 
 " You can hardly conceive anything more delightful than our 
 voyage. Sea-sickness did not continue above a day. A regu- 
 lar breeze filled our sails, and kept our ship so steady, that we 
 breakfasted and dined every day upon deck. The fleet moved 
 close together ; and every hour of the day we conversed with 
 our friends on board of other vessels, while crowds of flying- 
 fishes, moving about, and often coming on board, to avoid their 
 voracious enemy the dolphin, contributed to amuse and enliven 
 us." 
 
 Of Barbadoes, where he first landed, he says : — 
 
 " It seems hilly and bare, and the wood is nearly all cut 
 down, — a circumstance which, while it diminishes the beauty of 
 a country, adds much to its healthfulness. Countries covered 
 with wood are always moist, the trees preventing the beams of 
 the sun from exhaling the rain and dew, which must, of conse- 
 quence, stagnate, and become unwholesome. The ground seems 
 sandy, covered in part with rough grass, and with the prickly 
 pear; while around, plantations of the cocoa-nut-tree and the 
 banana, stretch their grotesque leaves in the most curious direc- 
 tions. The heat is great, and would be insupportable, were it 
 not for the refreshing south-east wind, which, rising as the sun 
 mounts upwards, mitigates his burning rays." 
 
 He went, soon after this, with the expedition against the 
 Dutch settlements of Demerara and Berbice. In the attack 
 upon the first of these, the care of a kind proA^idence was con- 
 spicuous. When the boats had approached within a stone- 
 cast of the shore, they stuck fast in the mud, so that if the 
 Dutch had brought a single field-piece to bear upon them, 
 they must have destroyed their whole force ; but the ap- 
 pearance of a formidable fleet led them to surrender. Con- 
 cerning Demerara, he says : — 
 
 " It is a most beautiful country, almost entirely covered with 
 wood ; and an amazing quantity of the finest fruit grows here. 
 A number of birds of the most beautiful plumage fly about ; and 
 parrots are plentiful beyond our blackbirds at home." 
 
36 LETTERS FROM HIS RUOTHER ANDREW. 
 
 After this, he went to the capture of St Lucea. Describ- 
 ing the appearance of this island, he says : — 
 
 " A view cannot be conceived more wild and romantic, than 
 that which this island presents. It is nothing but an assemblage 
 of hills of a conical form, and of ravines ; and over the one, and 
 down the other, the soldiers and sailors were obliged to make 
 roads, to bring up the heavy cannon to bear against the strongest 
 post of the enemy. When the battery was about to open, tlie 
 enemy sent down a flag of truce, and surrendered." 
 
 From St Lucea he went with the army to Martinique. 
 Writing from this island, he says : — 
 
 " The town of Sebastian is one of the finest in the West In- 
 dies. The streets are paved and regular, and the houses built of 
 stone. It lies at the bottom of a high hill, which is contiguous to 
 others still higher ; but they do not rise perpendicular. The slope 
 is gradual, and being cultivated with sugar-cane, and many beau- 
 tiful and nutritious plants, presents a charming picture to the 
 eye. We extend our view along these cultivated spots to the 
 tops of the smaller hills, planted with the cocoa-nut-tree and the 
 mountain cabbage, or to those mountains whose summits are al- 
 most lost in the clouds. There is a hollow made in the middle 
 of each street; and the water from the hills, being conveyed 
 down through every street, cools the air, and refreshes tlie eye 
 amazingly." 
 
 His last station was in Dominica. He landed in this 
 island in August 1796, and remained in it till his death, 
 \A'hich took place eleven months after. The accounts he 
 gives of it in his letters are highly interesting : — 
 
 " Morne Bricee, where we are posted, stands above the town 
 of Roseau, and is about a mile from it. The barracks of the 
 men and ofl^icers command a prospect of the sea and of the coast, 
 to the extent of thirty miles or more. The hill stretches behind 
 the barracks, in a long ridge, forming, with two other hills, which 
 run in the same direction, deep ravines ; and down the right ra- 
 vine a pretty large river runs, which is full of very good fish. 
 
LETTERS FROM HIS BROTHER ANDREW. .37 
 
 Upon this ridge my house stands, which is neat and commodious. 
 Before and behind, I have a little sloping lawn, which is covered 
 with perpetual green. A little farther backward, the hospital 
 stands, after which the ridge ends, and mountains of amazing 
 height and variety spring up abruptly behind it ; some running 
 along in sharp inaccessible ridges, while others rise with a broader 
 head, and are covered with the sweetest verdure of spring. Such 
 a variety as this of hill, often mingled with valley, glen, or pre- 
 cipice, forms a prospect of romantic beauty and grandeur, over 
 which the eye wanders delighted. I have frequently walked to 
 the top of these high hills ; and I can assure you, that owing to 
 the constant breeze, and there being little reflection of the sun's 
 rays, the heat is very moderate." 
 
 In another letter he says : — 
 
 " The year 1797 is arrived, and you are now pinched by the 
 frost or chilled by the cold blast. The day, dull and gloomy, in 
 which the sun scarcely appears, is succeeded by a night long and 
 dark, in which nearly two-thirds of your time are occupied, and 
 in which you must, by artificial heat, labour to compensate for 
 the want of that genial warmth which the sun's beams only 
 bestow. How different is our situation. While you freeze with 
 cold, I am scorched with heat. The chilling north wind makes 
 you shiver : the sultry south wind almost suffocates me. The 
 sun shines here with the most vivid and burning rays. Yet, after 
 all, neither of us feels his situation unpleasant. Man, in every 
 clime, endeavours by art to counteract what is hurtful, to remove 
 what is disagreeable, and to accommodate himself to what he 
 cannot avoid. In short, I cannot say that the climate of the 
 West Indies is to me unpleasant. This season is with us the 
 coolest in the year. After the sun sets, and before he rises, no- 
 thing can be more fresh or more agreeable than the air which 
 blows. Even during the day, the trade-wind blows with greater 
 force, and is most refreshing ; and our barracks being situated on 
 a hill, every breeze reaches us. I have made many excursions 
 into the country, and have almost gone over the island, which is 
 mountainous throughout. Wherever you go, hills and steep val- 
 leys appear, like what you see in the Highlands. Setting aside 
 the difference of climate, and the luxuriance of natural produc- 
 
38 LETTERS FIIOM HIS BllOTHEIl ANDREW. 
 
 tions, the external form is the same. It will sm'prise yon much 
 to hear, that the sensitive plant, which is preserved with co much 
 care in your gardens, is the most common weed in this island, 
 and its sensibility is a thousand times more exquisite. I sup- 
 pose there are a thousand plants around my little chateau. Al- 
 though this island is very much covered with wood, the birds 
 are very few ; not amounting to six different species, and of these 
 there are none that are remarkable for their notes. A number 
 of parrots are to be found in the highest hills, but they are very 
 wild. The humming-bird is almost the only one we think worth 
 notice. It is about the length and thickness of your little finger, 
 with most beautiful green and golden plumage. Its bill is long 
 and sharp, to extract the sweets from the flowers on which it 
 feeds. It flies about from flower to flower, like the bee at home. 
 " This island is plentifully supplied with water. Several 
 rivers run on both sides of the island ; and in almost every ravine 
 there is a brook formed by the rain which falls on the cloud-capt 
 hills above. Nothing can equal the coolness of the water ; nor is 
 there anything so pleasant as a draught from a rivulet or spring 
 in this country. Covered on each side by overhanging trees, or 
 secured from the rays of the sun by the mountains, the brooks 
 glide along on sandy beds, or gurgle among the stones ; and, 
 sometimes falling from steep rocks, they form cascades, and 
 descend into basins formed by the hand of nature to receive 
 them." 
 
 While thus sensitively alive to all in the world of na- 
 ture that could interest or charm, he felt, in the religious 
 and moral state of the West Indies, much to grieve and to 
 disgust him. In the last letter which his friends received 
 from him, he thus expresses the feelings of a heart vexed 
 from.day to day with the wickedness that prevailed around : — 
 
 " I am perfectly tired, not of this country, but of the inha- 
 bitants, whose morals and principles are most disgusting. Every 
 thing that tends to ennoble the mind, to elevate the feelings, or 
 to chasten the imagination, is here unknown. The most bare- 
 faced licentiousness, and the grossest impiety, combined with all 
 the low arts of scheming adventurers, are here the order of the 
 day. The Protestants, if they may be so called, have no church 
 
DEATH OF HIS BROTHER ANDREW. 39 
 
 here ; and Sunday would pass as unnoticed as any other day, were 
 it not called to remembrance by the weekly negro market, and 
 by their barbarous dancing and singing in the evening. Instead 
 of turning the attention of the poor negro, on that day, to some 
 idea of God or religion, — instead of expanding his mind, by exer- 
 cising his reason, they rather endeavour, if possible, to make 
 him more brutish and sensual. The man who fulfils the duties 
 of life with propriety, and lives in the fear of God, in such a 
 scene, is a rare character. Every thing here tends to debase the 
 mind, to corrupt the feelings, and to eradicate every moral prin- 
 ciple." 
 
 Soon after writing this letter, death terminated his short, 
 but useful and honourable career. We now quote the words 
 of his brother Henry : — 
 
 " It pleased God (he says) to take him from a scene thus 
 painful to him, not by his return to Britain, but by his removal 
 to an eternal home. At the commencement of the sickly season, 
 the yellow fever appeared among the troops in great violence ; 
 and many of the men, and also of the officers, were its victims. 
 He was seized with it in the discharge of his duty, and used 
 every method to arrest its progress, but in vain. So rapid is the 
 course of that disease, that in a few hours the freshest counte- 
 nance is changed, and the most vigorous constitution prostrated 
 for the grave. To have his course terminated, while it was thus 
 conducting him to wealth and distinction, and to be in a strange 
 land, neither tended by a mother's care nor soothed by a father's 
 prayers, was indeed trying to nature ; yet did he bow in sub- 
 mission to the will of heaven, and display a patience and a 
 courage worthy of his principles and his character. Endeared to 
 the soldiers by his skill and activity, by his unwearying attention, 
 and his generous risking of his own life to preserve theirs, they 
 lamented his death as the greatest calamity ; and the manner in 
 which his brother officers condoled with his afflicted friends, is 
 alike honourable to their own feelings and to his worth. ' Yom* 
 son,' says one of them, ' during his short illness of two days, re- 
 ceived every attention that his situation would admit of, and was 
 followed to his grave by his brother officers with sincere regret.' 
 * His loss will be an irreparable one,' says another, ' to the 45th 
 
40 PIOUS REFLECTIONS OX DEATH OF HIS BllOTHEK. 
 
 regiment, not only as a professional man, but as a man univer- 
 sally esteemed for his great accomplishments, indefatigable at- 
 tention, and respectable conduct.' His commander and friend, 
 Colonel Abercrombie, thus writes : — ' I most sincerely lament the 
 death of your son. His character was such, in every particular, 
 as to claim most justly the friendship of those who had the plea- 
 sure of being acquainted with him. In him I have to regret the 
 loss of a valuable friend ; but much do I feel for a father who is 
 deprived of a son possessed of such qualities as his.' 
 
 " It is impossible (continues Henr}^) to describe the grief of 
 his friends under this affecting stroke. It was the loss of one 
 who was an ornament to their house, and the extinction of many 
 a fond expectation. There is something peculiarly afflicting in 
 the death of friends at a distance from us, and in being thus de- 
 nied the opportunity of receiving their last testimonies of affec- 
 tion, and of paying to them the last offices of love. But his 
 relations felt, that thus it had pleased God in his infinite wisdom 
 to order it, in whose hand our breath is, and whose are all our 
 Avays, from whose throne of mercy no scene is distant, and from 
 whose eye no grief is hid. They had this consolation, that he 
 died in the scene of duty, that the hand of the Lord was with 
 him, and that he left behind him a most honourable name. 
 
 " How strikingly does this sketch show, that ever}^ man, at 
 his best estate, is altogether vanity. Seldom have prospects been 
 more flattering, or merit more valued, yet their possessor was 
 laid in an early grave. And let none say, that his mountain 
 standeth strong, and that his blossoms are safe. An early grave 
 hath been opened for many on what was thought the scene of 
 absolute safety ; and the worm hath consumed the plant which 
 neither the frost nor the blast was permitted to reach. Let not 
 this discourage the ardour of youth to excel, nor repress their 
 eager exertions for this purpose. In these very exertions there 
 is a pleasure, which more than compensates all the sacrifices 
 which they require, and which gladdens the severest seasons of 
 bodily and intellectual application ; and let it not be said that 
 the mental improvement or the moral culture of such youths is 
 vain. Their course is short, but bright ; and their early fall gives 
 to their character a deeper interest, and sheds over their fate a 
 more impressive admonition." 
 
IIEV. JOHN BELFUAGE. 41 
 
 Mr Belfrage's father, with whom he was so happily as- 
 sociated in the ministry, soon followed his son Andrew to 
 the grave. When he received intelligence of his son's 
 death, he was recovering from a severe attack of illness, by 
 which his constitution was greatly enfeebled. In the shat- 
 tered state of his frame, the unexpected blow which he re- 
 ceived by the communication of such intelligence, must have 
 fallen upon him with peculiar severity. After a respite of a 
 few months, his disorder returned with increased violence. 
 He lingered for some time on the brink of the grave, exhi- 
 biting a bright example of faith, and patience, and fortitude, 
 to all around him ; and, after a painful struggle, exhausted 
 nature at length sank to rest. He entered into the joy of his 
 Lord on the 14th of May 1798. 
 
 His son, Henry, besides the memorial which he published, 
 has left among his manuscripts a full record of the excellen- 
 cies of this good man ; and from this record we shall present 
 our readers mth a few extracts, to give them an acquaint- 
 ance with one of the ablest theologians, and most exemplary 
 ministers, whom the Secession Church has ever produced : — 
 
 " His manner as a preacher was chiefly characterized by 
 gravity and simplicity. His style was plain and unadorned. 
 He never sought after any of the embellishment of style, yet his 
 language was never debased by coarseness or vulgarity. His 
 speech and his preaching were not with the enticing words of 
 men's wisdom, but in demonstration of the spirit and of power, 
 that his people's faith might not stand in the wisdom of men, but 
 in the power of God. There was a rapidity in his utterance that 
 sometimes rendered his pronunciation rather indistinct, and not 
 so intelligible at first to strangers ; but those who were accustomed 
 to him for a little, found not the smallest difficulty in following 
 him. When he was in the pulpit, you saw not the affectation 
 and vanity of the fop, but the wisdom and seriousness of the man 
 of God. His heart often melted in the application of his ser- 
 mons ; and with all that simple pathos that seldom fails to win 
 upon the soul, he filled his mouth with arguments to prevail with 
 sinners to be reconciled to God. The profound stillness of his 
 
42 
 
 REV. JOHN BELFRAGE. 
 
 audience, and the tears which stole down many a cheek, showed 
 the deep interest which these addresses excited. 
 
 " Diligence was a quality for which he was eminent as a 
 minister. During the greater part of his ministry, for one half 
 of the year, he gave four discourses to his people on the Sabbath. 
 He visited and examined them regularly once a-year, though it 
 was a numerous congregation, and collected out of seven parishes. 
 In these services he laboured to feed them with knowledge and 
 understanding ; and exhorted, and comforted, and charged, every 
 one of them, as a father doth his children, that they should walk 
 worthy of God who had called them into his kingdom and glory. 
 He had weekly meetings, for several years, for young persons of 
 both sexes, that he might teach them the lii'st principles of the 
 oracles of God, — ^the boys one night, and the girls another ; and 
 was at some expense himself in procuring them catechisms, and 
 in making such little presents to them as were likely to engage 
 their good-will, and to stimulate their ardour for improvement. 
 For a great part of his ministry, also, he examined all the com- 
 municants once in the two years, directing their attendance in 
 different divisions in the session-house, that he might mark the 
 evidences of their growth in grace, and in the knowledge of our 
 Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ; and might encourage the timid, 
 admonish the careless, and rejoice with the spiritually prosperous. 
 He was peculiarly attentive in calling upon the sick; and not 
 only the sick of his own society, but those of other denomina- 
 tions, who requested his sympathy and prayers. 
 
 " Such was the estimation in which he was held by all classes, 
 that there were few in distressing circumstances who did not so- 
 licit his visits ; and he went with as much readiness to preach 
 Christ, the hope and consolation of Israel, to the poor in their 
 cellars and garrets, as to the wealthiest families. Many miles 
 has he walked every week in this labour of love, to strengthen the 
 weak hands and to confirm the feeble knees. He grudged not his 
 own fatigue. He was willing, gladly, to spend and to be spent 
 for his people. Let the malady be ever so loathsome or infec- 
 tious, or the sufferer ever so worthless, he resisted not the call to 
 see them, trusting for protection to Him who surrounds us with 
 his favour in the path of duty, and eager to pluck the brand 
 from the burning. Where charity was needed, out of his little 
 
KEV. JOHN BELFRAGE. 43 
 
 he always gave something. Oft was he raised from sleep to go 
 to minister in the house of affliction, and went without a murmur, 
 however early the hour, and however inclement the season. To 
 the fatherless and the orphan he approved himself a counsellor, a 
 guardian, and a friend ; and not unfrequently have I heard from 
 such persons, his care of their youth mentioned in the language of 
 melting gratitude. 
 
 " Amid his public avocations he neglected not preparation in 
 private for his official duties. He seldom went to the pulpit 
 without full and accurate study of his subject. To some it may 
 appear incredible how all this could be done. I must state, that 
 excepting a few months after his ordination at Falkirk, when he 
 was afflicted with an ague, he enjoyed the firmest good health. 
 He had a vigorous constitution, and could bear a degree of fatigue 
 under which multitudes would have sunk. In going, when a 
 student, to the West Highlands, to his pupils, he rode in one 
 day from Stirling to Inverary ; and when he attended the meet- 
 ings of Presbytery at Glasgow, he left home in the morning, and 
 was there early in the forenoon. Never did he, in the course of 
 his ministry, decline going out to any diet of official duty, which 
 he had intimated, on account of the badness of the weather. He 
 was also an early riser. In the coldest season of the year, he de- 
 voted several hours in the morning to reading and meditation ; 
 and when not called from home, a great part of the day was 
 spent in the same manner. 
 
 " The influence of such a minister's labours must have been 
 very considerable. On this point I can speak with certainty. 
 Oft have I seen the tear start in the eye when his texts were re- 
 peated in conversation. Oft have I heard from the bed of afflic- 
 tion and death, blessings invoked on his memory, as the father 
 who had begotten them to God, through the Gospel ; as the coun- 
 sellor who had guided them through perplexities and trials ; as 
 the comforter whose soothing words had, in the hour of sorrow, put 
 gladness into their hearts. Years have now elapsed since his death : 
 yet I often hear his sentiments quoted, his services acknowledged, 
 and his loss deplored. The righteous shall be in everlasting re- 
 membrance. Under his ministry the congregation increased con- 
 siderably. At his ordination in Falkirk, no seats in the galleries 
 were occupied but the first and second rows ; and, in the lower 
 
44 REV. JOHX BELFKAGE. 
 
 part of the church, there were many empty pews ; but, in the 
 course of a few years, the whole church was decently filled, and 
 continued to be so. 
 
 " For many years he was a member of the Presbytery of Glas- 
 gow ; and, though attendance on their meetings was, by his dis- 
 tance from them, both fatiguing and expensive, he was seldom 
 absent. The candour, the mildness, and wisdom of his speeches, 
 both there and in the Associate Sj^nod, secured to them more 
 general respect, and gave them a more solid influence, than can 
 be obtained by sarcastic witticisms or florid declamation. He 
 was four times Moderator of the Associate Synod. He was ap- 
 pointed, along with the Reverend James Moir of Tarbolton, com- 
 missioner to the Associate Synod in Ireland, to cultivate harmony 
 and affection betwixt the two Synods. The remarks which he 
 made on the agricultural, moral, and religious state of Ireland, 
 showed with what attention he had viewed it in his journey ; and 
 were it not foreign to the design of this sketch, their detail would 
 amuse and instruct. He was one of the committee that was ap- 
 pointed to arrange a scheme for the widows of ministers in the 
 Associate Synod, and had many conversations with Dr Webster 
 of Edinburgh respecting it. That great and good man, after 
 having matured a plan of the kind, which has proved such a bless- 
 ing and honour to the Church of Scotland, was willing to give 
 every assistance in his power to the establishment of a similar 
 measure in our society. It is not very honourable to the society 
 that this scheme was rendered abortive by the opposition given 
 to it by some members of Synod, and by the reluctance mani- 
 fested by some congregations to collect for it. 
 
 " He was also a member of those committees appointed to 
 draw up a re-exhibition of the Testimony, and to prepare a warn- 
 ing against socinianism. He was a zealous promoter of that re- 
 formation of their creed, which, in the year 1795, was proposed 
 in the Associate Synod, namely, making articles of forbearance 
 of the power of the magistrate in matters of religion (as stated in 
 the Confession of Faith), and of the obligations of the covenants 
 on posterity. Few of the older members of Synod took this side. 
 But the sole headship of Christ, and the rights of conscience, he 
 thought were invaded, and he stood boldly up for the proposed 
 improvement, in spite of all the obloquy and menaces of the op- 
 
REV. JOHN BELFRAGE. 45 
 
 posite party. Let us go on to perfection was his cheering lan- 
 guage. Let us be firm. Let us be honest. By his mild and pru- 
 dent reasonings, and by his explanations, he preserved peace, in 
 a great measure, in his own congregation, and the influence of his 
 name went a great way in keeping down dissensions in the socie- 
 ties around. 
 
 " As a member of poUtical society, the sequestered sphere in 
 which he moved precluded him from much share in the transac- 
 tions of the day. His behaviour through life was such as became 
 the friend of his country and of mankind. When the spirit was 
 awakened, which, after so long a struggle with avarice and cor- 
 ruption, triumphed in the abolition of the African slave trade, he 
 did what he could to rouse the attention of his people to this 
 national iniquity, and to interest their feelings in the miseries of 
 the slaves. He attended the meetings that were held in Falkirk for 
 petitioning Parliament against the slave trade, and went through 
 the neighbourhood to stir up the people to give their support to 
 the great cause of justice and of love, and carried copies of the 
 petition with him for their subscriptions. Toward the close of 
 his course, the French Revolution took place. He dreaded, from 
 the first irruption of that volcano, that, from the corrupted prin- 
 ciples and morals of that people, and from the restlessness and 
 frivolity of their habits, they were not ripe for the enjoyment of 
 rational freedom. The attempts that were made to propagate 
 their principles he zealously opposed. In conversation, and in 
 his public ministry, when he judged it proper, he strongly enforced 
 submission to every ordinance of man, for the Lord's sake. The 
 sermons that were preached on days of national fasting and thanks- 
 gi^'ing were prepared with great care, and showed the Christian 
 and patriot united." 
 
 The closing scene of the life of this good man, is thus de- 
 scribed by his son : — 
 
 " In his last illness his thoughts ran much on the agony of 
 the Redeemer, the all-suflftciency of his grace, and the rest that 
 remaineth for the people of God. Often was his pale coun- 
 tenance brightened by the smile of love, and often was the 
 groan suppressed which agony was extorting, that it might not 
 distress his anxious affectionate family. On the day he died, lie 
 
46 FUNERAL SERMON FOR HIS FATHER. 
 
 could scarcely speak. He had some severe nervous fits, but at 
 intervals expressed his satisfaction at seeing his wife and children 
 beside him. He requested me again and again to pray with him ; 
 declared that he left us all on God ; and that, as for himself, with 
 eternity before him, Christ was all his hope. Never can I forget 
 the broken faultering voice with which he joined in the psalms 
 that were sung ; the solemn adoration, the eager hope which the 
 elevation of his eyes indicated, and that gi'asp of our hands, which 
 showed to what of earth the departing soul cleaved, and his hope 
 of meeting us in a happier state. Toward the close, the struggle 
 became more mild, and he sank quietly to rest. ' Mark the per- 
 fect, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace.' " 
 
 Mr Belfrage was deeply aiFected by the death of his father. 
 He felt that, in having such a friend and counsellor removed 
 from him, he had sustained a loss that was in some respects 
 irreparable. His own feelings, under this afflictive bereave- 
 ment, will be best described in his own beautiful languaofe. 
 One of the brethren of the presbytery preached for him on the 
 Sabbath after the funeral; and, on the following Sabbath, 
 he himself improved the event in two discourses which he 
 delivered to his people from Zach. i. 5, " Your fathers where 
 are they ? and the prophets do they live for ever ?'" His ser- 
 mon in the afternoon, he concluded in the following words: — 
 
 " The event, which has taken from you a pastor, has wounded 
 me still more severely, and has deprived me of a father and an 
 associate, and a guide in the work of the Gospel. To him I owe 
 more than to any other human being, and I have felt as if my 
 life was bound up in his. For nearly four years we have laboured 
 together in the Gospel, as if we had been animated by one heart 
 and by one soul. The course before me is now lonely and ar- 
 duous ; but I will look to the Almighty as the guide of my youth. 
 I will go in the strength of the Lord God. I feel the impulse of 
 his bright example. The grace which was his support will, I trust, 
 be mine. And encouraging is that attachment of his people, which 
 clung to him with increasing veneration during the whole course 
 of his ministry, which is now blessing his memory, and mingling 
 its tears with those of his family at his grave. ' I had fainted, un- 
 
LETTERS FROM REV. ROBERT GREIG. 47 
 
 less I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land 
 of the living/ Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation ; 
 and, as thou hast called me to enter into the labours of a father 
 now at rest, may I be permitted to bear a part in his final ac- 
 count, and in his rejoicing in the day of Christ over those to 
 whom his ministry hath been blessed, and who shall be his glory 
 and his joy for ever." 
 
 Amongst the number of those friends who expressed their 
 sympathy with Mr Belfrage on the death of his father, was 
 Mr Robert Greig, minister at Stitchel. He succeeded that 
 venerable man of God, the Rev. George Coventry. His 
 ministerial course w^as short. Afler labouring for a few 
 years in the vineyard, he was cut off in the prime of life. 
 Betwixt Mr Belfrage and this amiable youth, a friendship, 
 founded on mutual esteem, had been formed, during the 
 period they were prosecuting their studies ; and it continued 
 to be maintained after their ordination, by epistolary cor- 
 respondence, until a termination was put to it by the early 
 removal of Mr Greig from the scene of his labours. Soon 
 after the death of his father, Mr Belfrage received from his 
 friend the following letter : — 
 
 " My Dear Friend, — Long ere this I should have performed 
 my promise, but I hope that you will not impute it to a want of 
 respect for you, or forgetfulness of a friend whom I have loved, 
 still love, and will, I trust, always regard. The truth is simply 
 this ; I meant to have written you some time ago, but seeing an 
 account in the papers of the death of your venerable father, I 
 thought it best to delay a while, till the natural expressions of 
 grief were beginning to subside, and to be succeeded by a calm 
 contemplation of his virtues, and by steady resolutions to imitate 
 them. I need not attempt to unfold to you those sources of con- 
 solation which your owji discernment must already have dis- 
 covered. You well know, that a life virtuously and usefully 
 spent, marks the heirs of eternal life, and is the pledge of a happy 
 immortality : such was the life of your father. I need say no 
 more; he was too respectable to be exalted by my encomiums. 
 Sorrow not, then, as those who have no hope ; but follow his 
 
48 LETTERS FROM REV. RORERT GREIG. 
 
 footsteps, and in due time you also shall arrive at those regions 
 whither he has gone, and you shall live with him, never to be 
 separated. 
 
 " I hope your situation, as a minister, is happy. Mine here 
 is tolerable. We have nearly 500 communicants. I am getting 
 a new house built for me ; the situation is pleasant. I have, 
 however, but little society ; perhaps, so much the better, as I am 
 less exposed. I may say with Doddridge, that I am master of 
 my time, of some books, and (I wish I could add with him) 
 master of myself. Since our being together at the Hall, we have 
 had little opportunity of enjoying a friendly converse. What 
 would you think of going over to Fife at the Synod? You 
 would see your friends, and I would see mine ; we might spend a 
 few days agreeably together. I would wish you to write me 
 soon, at least within a fortnight. Send me all your news. With 
 compliments to your mother and sisters, and wishes for your 
 welfare, I subscribe myself still, — Your sincere friend, 
 
 " RoBT. Greig. 
 
 " Stitchel, 6th August 1798." 
 
 We insert another of Mr Greig's letters, as a memorial of 
 the friendship which he cherished toward the subject of this 
 memoir, — a friendship which, though it was not destined to 
 be of long continuance upon earth, we have reason to believe 
 has been ere now renewed in that better world, where no 
 separation of friends ever takes place : — 
 
 " My Dear Friend, — I sit down to begin my letter, as 
 usual, with an apology for having delayed so long to write to 
 you. I need not say, that owing to the multiplicity of my en- 
 gagements, I have little time. Such an excuse is an insult to 
 friendship. I will frankly acknowledge, that no such cause has 
 occasioned the delay, — but pride, blended with indolence ; the 
 one prompting me not to send you a letter unless it was a good 
 one, and the other hindering me from making the exertion ; but 
 friendship and a sense of honour have at length overcome both. 
 I have at length resolved to send j^^ou this, not as a display of 
 talents worthy of you, but as a proof of my esteem and regard. 
 If frequent epistolary correspondence were essential to the nature 
 of friendship, I am certain that my letters to you would have 
 
LETTERS F1{0:M REV. RORERT C'.RETG. 49 
 
 been more frequent ; for neither time, distance, avocations, joys, 
 nor sorrows, have estranged my affections. I still remember the 
 friend of my youth ; and it is sometimes a source of discontent, 
 in my peevish moments, that I am so far separated from you ; 
 but the great Ruler of all things disposes of our lot, not as we 
 wish, but as he wills ; and we ought to be resigned. If we ever 
 think justly of ourselves, we must remember that we live not for 
 ourselves, but for the purposes of Him who made us ; and happy 
 will it be for us, if we live and act in the firm faith of this im- 
 portant truth. Our duty would then be always our pleasure, and 
 the joys and sorrows of life would less affect our minds. I would 
 fondly hope, that since I commenced my ministry, I have jiot 
 been altogether without the influence of this principle, as a source 
 of consolation under the various trials to which I have been 
 exposed. Among these I rank, as the chief, that dark and tur- 
 bulent spirit of the Judaizing Christians, with which I have had 
 to contend. But I have laid it down as a principle, to act in this 
 matter from a sense of duty ; and from this line of conduct the 
 venom of malice and the fury of fanaticism could never make me 
 deviate. The storm has now blown over; for the party never 
 were formidable from their number, but from their rage (being 
 only about twenty-five) ; and notwithstanding of the attempt 
 which they have lately made, to erect their standard in a distant 
 wing of our congregation, namely, at Greenlaw, about six miles 
 from Stitchel, they have little hopes of success even there, where 
 the parish minister is very unpopular. At first they had tolerable 
 
 audiences, but they gradually dwindled away ; and S , who 
 
 used to come one Sabbath every month, has not been there these 
 two months. Our meeting is always well filled, and the congre- 
 gation, in these unstable times, have behaved to me with more 
 affection and respect than I deserve. 
 
 " You will have heard ere this time of the death of Mr Bell, 
 at Wooler. His character could only be known to you by fame ; 
 but to me who knew him well, his memory will ever be dear. 
 For diligence and piety, and every thing connected with his oflice, 
 he has left behind him few members of Synod who surpassed him ; 
 and for amiable simplicity of manners he was equalled by few. 
 May we, from his example, learn righteousness ! And, from his 
 
 I) 
 
50 DEVOTEDXESS TO HIS WORK. 
 
 sudden removal, be taught to improve our time and talents, as 
 those that must shortly give an account. 
 
 " May I hope to hear from you soon ? Do write me : I shall 
 not be so long in answering your next. Present my respects to 
 your mother and sisters. When you see Mr Gilfillan, give him 
 my respects. I have his fine pleasant countenance, an index of 
 his benevolent mind, present to my imagination ; and you may 
 rest assured, that your image is seldom absent from the mind of 
 him who always wishes to be reckoned your sincere friend, 
 
 " RoBT. Greig. 
 
 " Stitchel, I8th December 1800." 
 
 After the death of his father, the sole charge of the con- 
 gregation devolved upon Mr Belfrage. By the removal of his 
 revered colleague, both his responsibility and his labours were 
 increased. The excellent example of ministerial diligence 
 and fidelity, which had been exhibited to him in the life of 
 his father, he endeavoured to imitate. Never did a minister 
 devote himself more thoroughly to the service of his Divine 
 Master. The spiritual improvement of his flock was an ob- 
 ject w^hich he laboured incessantly to promote. All his pur- 
 suits were rendered subservient to the accomplishment of it. 
 He did not rest satisfied with the ordinary routine of minis- 
 terial duty, but he was frequently revolving in his mind some 
 plan, whereby his usefulness as a minister might be increased. 
 He grudged no extra service, either in public or in private, 
 that might be for the benefit of his people. He was instant 
 in season and out of season ; and he had the happiness of 
 seeing his labours crowned with a considerable measure of 
 success. His congregation steadily increased, and their young 
 pastor was the object at once of their veneration and affection. 
 While he rejoiced in their external prosperity, his heart was 
 every now and then gladdened by pleasing instances of spi- 
 ritual fruit reaped in the vineyard of his Master. 
 
 During the years 1801-2, the state of the Miles' Lane 
 congregation, London, Avas such as to render it necessary for 
 the Associate Sjmod to send them a regular supply of minis- 
 ters from Scotland. Mr Belfras^e was one of those whom the 
 
APPOIXTMENT TO MILEs' LANE. ;51 
 
 Synod appointed to officiate in Miles' Lane. The following 
 extract from a letter, which he received about this time from 
 the late Dr Husband of Dunfermline, will show what those 
 circumstances were, connected wdth the congregation, which 
 rendered such a supply necessary. The letter is dated 27th 
 January 1801. At the time it was written, Dr Husband was 
 himself in London, supplying Miles' Lane. He says : — 
 
 " I presume you are acquainted with the occasion of my be- 
 ing in London. Mr Easton, for some time past, has been unable 
 to discharge the duties of his office ; in consequence of which, his 
 congregation was dwindling so fast, that, without immediate as- 
 sistance, it must have expired. Whether it will be yet preserved, 
 I know not. There are several causes which operate against it. 
 Under the blessing of Providence, however, I would indulge fa- 
 vourable expectations. There is a number of people still con- 
 nected with it, who are warmly attached to the Secession, and 
 who, I am persuaded, will not soon fall from their steadfastness. 
 But dissenting congregations in London are, from various causes, 
 more precarious than in Scotland." 
 
 Previous to setting out for the British Metropolis, Mr 
 Belfrage wrote to his friend in Dunfermline, requesting him 
 to give him such directions as might be of use to him on his 
 journey, and during his temporary abode in London. In re- 
 ply to his communication, his friend thus writes : — 
 
 " Dunfermline, \6th January 1802 When I talked of giving 
 
 you directions with regard to your journey to London, and your 
 residence there, I did not mean that I had any directions to give, 
 worthy of being put on paper, but only to hold out an inducement 
 to you to come to Dunfermline, where it would have given me 
 real pleasure to have seen you, and to have said any thing on the 
 subject that might have occurred. As to your conduct in London, 
 I know your prudence so well, that I can, with confidence, leave 
 you to your own discretion. You will soon learn the state of the 
 congregation, which has probably undergone a considerable altera- 
 tion during the last twelve months. Your greatest difficulty, it is 
 likely, will arise from a diversity of opinion respecting Mr Easton ; 
 
 D 2 
 
52 FIRST VISIT TO LONDON. 
 
 but as I know very little about the present state of the congrega- 
 tion, I could write little or nothing but general maxims of pru- 
 dence, with which you are fully as well acquainted as myself. I 
 beg you will remember me to Mr Waugh, to my worthy host and 
 hostess Mr and Mrs D., to the elders of Miles' Lane, and all in- 
 quiring friends. May your mission be attended with much suc- 
 cess ! May you be under the care of Providence during your 
 absence, and be restored a greater blessing than ever to your 
 friends and congregation ! — I remain, yours affectionately, 
 
 " Jam!es Husband." 
 
 Mr Belfrage paid his first visit to London in the spring of 
 1802, and continued there till near the end of May. His 
 labours were highly prized, not only by the congregation of 
 ]Miles' Lane, but by the religious public in general. During 
 the short period of his visit, the congregation gradually in- 
 creased, and before the term of his mission expired, he had 
 the pleasure of seeing the chapel occupied by a large and 
 respectable audience. His popular talents, as a preacher, 
 combined with his dignified and prepossessing appearance, 
 rendered him a peculiar favourite in the pulpit, while the 
 urbanity of his manners, and the suavity and cheerfulness 
 of his disposition, made him a welcome guest in the social 
 circle. A few of the letters which he wrote to his friends in 
 Scotland, at this period, giving an account of some of the 
 scenes which he witnessed in London, have been preserved. 
 They express a strong feeling of gratitude, on account of the 
 kindness which he experienced, during his temporary sojourn 
 in the south ; and they breathe a warm attachment to home. 
 The perusal of them will be gratifying to our readers. To 
 his mother, to whom he was fondly attached, he writes in the 
 following strain : — 
 
 London, March 22. 1802. 
 
 " My Dear Mother. — I was so happy to hear from home 
 of your welfare ; and that all things continue to prosper, is a great 
 ground of thankfulness. I wish to be grateful to God for the 
 health I enjoy here, and for the attention that is shown me. I 
 wisli it may please God, by my ministrations here, not only to 
 
LETTERS FROM LONDON. 53 
 
 increase the congregation in numbers, but to promote their spi- 
 ritual improvement. There are many religious people here whose 
 society is very pleasant. If some of the congregation here shall 
 owe their conversion to my humble labours, as the instrument, 
 what a rejoicing will it be at the judgment seat of Christ. I hope 
 there are not a few in Falkirk to whose souls my ministry has 
 been blessed ; and, far distant as I am from them, my prayer to 
 God, and my heart's desire for them all is, that they may be saved. 
 I WTote William a sketch of my transactions of the last week. 
 On Monday I dined with Mr Waugh. On Tuesday I dined in 
 your old friend's, Captain R Dr Hunter, the famous clergy- 
 man, who came from South Leith here, and is the captain's mi- 
 nister, dined with us. He is now a man above sixty years of 
 age, but wonderfully frank and courteous in his manners. He 
 and I turned so gracious, that he pressed me to come and see 
 him, and to preach for him on Friday next, on which day they 
 have a sermon before their Sacrament. This, however, I declined ; 
 but promised to call for him. He is acquainted with the first 
 people in town ; and I am informed that his eloquence and ability, 
 as a preacher, are quite unimpaired. 
 
 " On Thursday, Rowland Hill preached a charity sermon 
 for schools, where fifty boys and fifty girls are maintained and 
 educated. The meeting-house in Miles' Lane was asked and 
 given. The text was, Titus, 2d chapter and 14th verse; he said 
 a number of good things. The children were in the church, and 
 some questions in the Proof Catechism were asked at some of 
 them, at the close of the sermon, which they answered most ex- 
 cellently. Mr Waugh and I were asked to dine with the society, 
 in the London Tavern, a most splendid room. The dinner was 
 excellent. About 130 sat down to it. A great number of mi- 
 nisters was there, of all persuasions. The children came in after 
 dinner; the boys on the one side, and the girls on the other. 
 They were all orphans ; as pretty looking children as I ever saw ; 
 they were so well dressed and clean, with a sprig of boxwood in 
 their breast. Mr Hill said some serious things to them. He was 
 much affected ; mentioned to them that the grace of God took 
 possession of his heart, when he was a boy at school ; spoke of 
 the regards of Christ to little children ; of the gratitude they ouglit 
 to feel to their earthly benefiictors, and the way they should show 
 
54 LETTEKS FKOM LONDON. 
 
 it, and how they ought to act to Him, who is^ the father of the 
 fatherless. A Dr Rippon who was there that day, showed us 
 three pieces of paper, containing specimens of Bunyan's hand- 
 writing, Dr Owen's, and Bradbury's. He is writing a history of 
 Bunhill-fields Churchyai'd, and memoirs of the ministers that 
 are buried there. I went on Friday to see that churchyard. The 
 Greyfriars' in Edinburgh, is nothing to it. It consists of live 
 acres of ground ; the stones stand in regular rows, and there is a 
 number of trees in it. No family has more than one grave in it, 
 but they are made fourteen feet deep, and they lay one above 
 another. The sexton told me that 40,000 had been buried during 
 the last century in it, and that it had been much increased of late. 
 There would be much more this one. I could not find out Mr 
 Hall's grave. Mr A. Hastie was buried last Friday. Death has 
 made dreadful havoc in that family of late. He had been very 
 wild in his behaviour ; but, in the progress of his consumption, 
 he became quite serious ; and, in his last moments, uttered to his 
 brother the most melting expressions of penitential sorrow, and 
 expressed his firm dependance on the blood of Christ ! O how 
 abundant is the grace of our God ! O how rich is the mercy of 
 our Saviour ! Mr Waugli was to have been here this forenoon, 
 but the heavy rains have detained him. His company is a high 
 treat to me ; and, to share his friendship, I count a high honour. 
 He is loved by all that know him, with the utmost warmth. He 
 is to take me to St. James' on Wednesday, when the King has a 
 levee, that I may see him. The kindness of the people of Lon- 
 don, and my knowing them better, makes me feel more agreeably 
 than I did the first week ; but not all the bustle and splendour, 
 and attractions of London, can make me forget my dear friends 
 at home. I bless God for the good news from Falkirk. In these 
 I discover an answer to my earnest prayers for the congregation's 
 peace, and the family's comfort and happiness ; and believe it, my 
 dear mother, that when I see you again, your company, attention, 
 and care, will be prized by me, if possible, more than ever. What 
 a mercy that we hear so often from one another, and that we meet, 
 I trust often, at a throne of grace, in prayer for each other. I 
 am happy that my sisters are enjoying themselves in Edinburgh : 
 remember me to them. You, my dear mother, will be rather 
 solitary at present; but I hope, in the kind attention of your 
 
LETTEllS FROM LONDON. 55 
 
 friends, and especially in the grace of Him whom you have chosen 
 for your refuge and portion in the land of the living, you will 
 find sweet peace and consolation. My love to my sisters ; and, 
 with most earnest wishes for your happiness, I am, &c. 
 
 To his sister Mary he thus writes : — 
 
 " London, 5th April 1802. 
 
 " My Dear Mary — I received your letter on Wednesday. 
 I was much pleased with it. I had only one fault with it ; that 
 was its shortness. I am happy the services of my brethren are 
 so acceptable, and that my people are so affectionate to me, and 
 so steady to their duty. I must now give you the news of last 
 week. I dined again, last Wednesday, with Dr Hunter, in my 
 old friend the captain's, who was hearing me last Sabbath : un- 
 common attention that family pay me. Dr Hunter seems to be 
 very fond of me : he wishes me to think of settling in London, 
 where a young man of talents, and good behaviour, would be sure 
 to succeed ; and promised me every recommendation and coun- 
 tenance in his power. I told him I had too many ties to Falkirk 
 to think of this. On Thursday I was in the Abbey Church of 
 Westminster. I heard one of the prebendaries preach a sermon 
 as void of the Gospel as a page of a heathen moralist. There 
 was not above a dozen of people. There were ten little boys who 
 chaunted the psalms; and their sweet shrill voices, along with 
 the solemn notes of the organ, sounded through the pillars of that 
 venerable building, and had a most sublime effect. They chaunted 
 
 the prayers, too, quite in the way Mr G speaks, when he sings 
 
 in his application. I never heard this but in this church. I am 
 very much pleased with the attention which many Scotch people 
 pay me. You would be astonished how many come a long way 
 to hear me, and press me to come and see them. Dr Hunter 
 wishes me to dine with the Scottish Corporation this week ; the 
 doctor is secretary. The Duke of Montrose is to be in the 
 chair ; and two of the King's sons are to be there ; and all the 
 Scotch nobility and gentry. It is a society founded for poor 
 Scotsmen in London. Mr Waugh says that the company and 
 entertainment will be splendid beyond any thing I can conceive. 
 I think I will go. Some of my friends have made strong appli- 
 cations to get me admitted to dine with the Whig Club to-morrow, 
 
56 LETTEKS FH0:M LONDON. 
 
 where I would hear Fox, and other great men speak. Fox has 
 spoken twice, and Pitt once, in the House of Commons, last week. 
 I did not hear them. I was so unlucky as to be engaged both 
 days. A debate is expected this afternoon, when I mean to be 
 there. I mean to go to St James's, on Thursday, to see the 
 drawing-room. I will give you an account of it when I return. 
 On Thursday I am to hear the Bishop of Landaif preach a charity 
 sermon. He is a famous man. It is he who answered Paine's 
 book against the Bible. I am to hear the Bishop of Rochester, 
 a famous prelate also, preach in the Chapel Royal, on Good Fri- 
 day. I hope to be much gratified. You may tell Betsy I go to 
 see the Archbishop of Canterbury's palace, on Thursday ; but 
 whether I see his Grace or not, is another question. The people 
 here are kind and hospitable b^j^ond description. Mr Waugh's 
 company is a feast of itself. I see him often ; and get the most 
 affectionate cards and letters from him now and then. 
 
 " Give my love to my sisters, and to my dear and respected 
 mother. May the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, be 
 present with all your souls, in mercy and love. I hope my 
 sisters will continue to do all they can to make their mother 
 happy. In making her happj^ you render yourselves so; and 
 this will be well-pleasing in the sight of that God, who, I trust, 
 cares for our family, and views it with an eye of mercy and af- 
 fection. I have much satisfaction in hearing from home. The 
 day on which a letter comes to me, is a happy one indeed." 
 
 Another letter to his sister : — 
 
 " London, ISth April 1802. 
 
 " My Dear Sister — I got your kind letter on Wednesday, 
 and was happy to hear that all was so well, and that my sisters 
 were come home. I thought the change would have been bene- 
 ficial to Betsy. She must be taken out every day this fine weather. 
 I hope, by the time I come home, she will be getting stout. 
 On Monday last I went to hear the great debates in the House 
 of Commons. The gallery, where strangers sit, was crowded an 
 hour before I got there. I went into the House of Lords. I 
 heard Lord Thurlow, Lord Grenville, and the Earl of Carlisle, 
 and some others, speak. Lord Grenville speaks vastly well. 
 On Thursday, I went three miles out of London, to dine in a Mr 
 
LETTERS FROM LONDON. 57 
 
 Ponton's. I preached in a meeting in the evening ; it is the only 
 place in all the parish of Rotherhithe where the Gospel is 
 preached. It was erected by the zealous exertions of a few 
 serious persons ; they have no minister yet ; they applied to my 
 friend, Mr Ponton, to get me to give a sermon. I preached to 
 them on the thief on the cross. The place is small, but it was 
 nearly full. I left the place amidst the thanks and blessings of 
 the people, and their earnest entreaties for my return. It was a 
 fine evening as we walked home ; and the fine bells of Rother- 
 hithe Church were ringing the most of the way. I went, on 
 Good Friday, to the Chapel Royal at St. James's. I went half 
 an hour before the time, as these places are always crowded when 
 the Bishop preaches. I paid a shilling to get in ; but I could not 
 get a seat, offer never so much ; they were reserved for the no- 
 bility, who on these high days attend there. I stood, with about 
 fifty well dressed people, in a passage, the whole time. The 
 service began at twelve, and did not end till a quarter past two. 
 The Bishop of London, who is a thin man, but well looking, 
 read some of the prayers ; and the Bishop of Rochester preached 
 a most learned and ingenious sermon, in explanation of that 
 article of the Creed, which speaks of our Lord's descent into 
 Hell ; it was almost an hour long, and delivered with great force 
 and majesty. The behaviour of the audience was most devout ; 
 they heard, too, with great attention. After the service, I went 
 to Mr Waugh's to dinner. It is as happy a family as I ever saw ; 
 the children are so affectionate in their manners to their parents 
 and to one another, that I was delighted with them. Mr Waugh 
 shines in his family, in the pulpit, and with his friends. Mrs 
 Waugh makes a most excellent wife to him, and an admirable 
 mother to her children; she is much esteemed and respected. 
 Mr Waugh goes with me to Greenwich and Woolwich, and to 
 Windsor — a charming place ; he says I will be delighted with 
 that jaunt, it is such a beautiful ride to it, and it is a perfect 
 paradise by all accounts. You may judge from these things 
 what a friend he is to me. He and I go to hear the Bishop of 
 Bristol preach a charity sermon on Thursday. The Sacrament 
 is to be dispensed in Miles' Lane, on the second Sabbath of 
 May. I am to be engaged two nights this week examining com- 
 municants. As it is the Sabbath before the meeting of the Mis- 
 
58 LETTERS FRO^l LONDON. 
 
 sionary Society, we expect Mr Mason to be with us. Yesterday, 
 especially in the afternoon, we had a large and respectable con- 
 gregation. There are more in it every day ; this, I hope, will 
 
 continue to be the case. E , poor man, must not come back. 
 
 Dr Hmnter said to me it would be most hurtful to the interest of 
 religion at large ; and, from what the people say, it would be ruinous 
 to the congregation ; he has been sadly unfortunate, poor man. 
 I was very happy to hear that the congregation near Spittalfields, 
 where INIr Durie has been preaching, wish to join our body, and 
 to have him ordained amongst them. I am very glad of it for 
 Mr Durie's sake ; and I think it will make the Secession more 
 known here, and more respectable. Mr and Mrs Ponton came to 
 hear me j^esterday. Her mother, old Mrs Smith, a pious good 
 old lady, stays and makes tea to me in the vestry, before the 
 evening sermon. She brings oranges to me, and is uncommonly 
 kind ; and her pious conversation pleases me highly. Remember 
 me to all friends. I hope that my mother keeps up her spirits. 
 May the smiles of Heaven constantly gladden her dwelling ! and 
 may no plague ever come near it. Give mj^ love to all my sis- 
 ters, and to my dear and respected mother, on whom I often, 
 often think with the highest esteem and affection. Much as I am 
 caressed in London, and pleased as I am with its various scenes, 
 my heart still points to home. Adieu, my dear sister. May 
 your father's God protect and bless you."_ 
 
 The next letter is to his mother : — 
 
 " London, \9th Mai/ 1802. 
 
 " My Dear Mother — I received both William's and my 
 sister's letters last night. I was glad to hear all was continuing 
 well at home. I have delayed writing, that I might be able to 
 say certainly when the ship sails. It sails to-morrow. I know 
 several agreeable people who are to come down with it. A gra- 
 cious providence, I trust, will give us a favourable passage. I 
 am quite anxious now to see Falkirk again. Of all the gay and 
 interesting scenes in which I have mingled here, I have found 
 none that could make me forget my mother's house, her affec- 
 tionate company and care. I hope God will give me grace to 
 behave as a son ought to do to such a mother. 
 
 '' Mr Mason still lodges here. He means to take lodgings in 
 
LETTERS FROM LONDON. o9 
 
 the west end of the town ; but will not do so till I set out. He 
 is a most intelligent man, and makes a very agreeable companion. 
 The Missionary Society met last week. Mason's sermon was 
 excellent, and has been highly admired. The places were 
 crowded, though very large. I prayed, after Mason's sermon, 
 in Tottenham- Court-Road Chapel ; there were about 5000 people 
 present ; the hymns and singing were astonishingly fine. They 
 have appointed me a director of the Missionary Society. I am 
 to be asked to preach one of the sermons next year ; this I would 
 not be very fond of, as the audience is so great. Neither Mr 
 Waugh, Mason, nor I, joined at the sacrament ; our minds were 
 not clear upon that subject. Mason preached in Miles' Lane on 
 Sabbath forenoon, I in the afternoon, when, by the Synod's 
 orders, I preached the church vacant ; and in the evening I 
 preached there too, and took my leave of them. I respect the 
 greater part of them very much, but could by no means think it 
 either honourable or proper to make them believe that I would 
 come to London, if they called me. I am happy among the Fal- 
 kirk people ; and unless they change very much, I hope still to 
 continue so. I attended a meeting of the dissenting ministers, 
 in and about London, yesterday, when they agreed to address 
 the King about the peace. Mr Waugh is one of the deputation 
 that is to present it ; he is a most loyal man ; I could fill my 
 letter with his praises, and even then, I could not say the half of 
 his excellencies in talent, heart, and conduct. I am a great fa- 
 vourite with his childi'en. I went there last night to take leave 
 of his family ; they were gone to bed before we got th^re, but 
 they called their mother, and sent her with their best wishes for 
 my safe return to Scotland, and for a happy meeting with my 
 friends. Mr Waugh's second son, William, is coming down with 
 me, to stay some time with us ; he is rather delicate ; it is 
 thought change of air will do him good. I take him over to 
 Kinross with me, to see his brothers. Mrs Waugh hopes every 
 thing from your motherly care and kindness. Last week I saw 
 a number of the ministers from different places ; Bogue, Roby, 
 and Fuller, the baptist — a great man, and many others. There 
 was a pleasant young preacher that prayed at one of the places, 
 in a manner that pleased me much ; it was judicious and fer- 
 vent ; a very polished, elegant manner he has ; I don't think he 
 
60 LETTEllS FROM LONDON. 
 
 is above twenty -two ; he is settled about five miles from London ; 
 his name is CoUyer. He preached an admirable charity sermon 
 here lately, and presented me with a copy of it. Mr Waugh has 
 presented me with two copies of his sermon, which he preached 
 before the Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge in the 
 Highlands of Scotland, and also with his picture, which will well 
 be a memorial of a man I dearly love. The parting with him is 
 the only thing that makes me feel a pang of sorrow in leaving 
 London. I have parted with many good acquaintances, whom I 
 respect, here. Blessed be God, I go to friends whom I love, and 
 who, I am sure, love me. I hope you will feel no anxiety about 
 my voyage down. You will, by prayer and supplication, commit 
 the care of me to that God who claims the sea as his, for he made 
 it, and who is a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from 
 the tempest. I have had much pleasure in writing to you, and 
 hope to have much happiness in your society again. May the 
 grace of our Lord Jesus be exceedingly abundant to you ; and 
 may that God who has hitherto marked my life with mercy, con- 
 tinue to do me good, for the sake of his Son, who is all my hope, 
 and in whom I wish to trust living and dying. Remember me in 
 the kindest manner to all that inquire for me. We have often 
 met in the gates of man ; — since I left Scotland, we have often 
 met at the Throne of Grace, and we will soon meet at a throne 
 of judgment. May every member of our family and flock be 
 there acknowledged by Christ, as the blessed of his Father, and 
 the beloved of his heart. My best wishes and prayers will ever 
 be for your welfare — I am, &c." 
 
 Previous to his leaving London, he addressed the follow- 
 ing affectionate epistle to his Session : — 
 
 " You have heard, I hope with pleasure, that a gracious pro- 
 vidence has brought me safe to London, and kept me in health and 
 comfort since my arrival in this place. With much joy have I 
 learned that my congregation has continued in such peace and 
 order in my absence ; and I bless God for this, and that the ser- 
 vices of my friends and brethren, in preaching the glorious 
 Gospel to them, have given so much satisfaction. I have written 
 the Synod to permit me to return about the middle of May, that 
 we may observe the Lord's Supper on the first of June, as usual. 
 
LETTERS FROM LOXDOX. 61 
 
 I hope they will grant my request, that I may return to my dear 
 flock, and join with them in commemorating the dying love of 
 our Redeemer. May the best blessings of the everlasting cove- 
 nant be the portion of each of you, and of your respective fami- 
 lies : And may grace, mercy, and peace, be ever on my flock, 
 dearly beloved and longed for, from God our Father, and from 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. Requesting a continuance of your af- 
 fection and remembrance, and earnest prayers on my behalf, and 
 hoping, through the mercy of God, to meet you soon in comfort — 
 I am, &c. 
 
6:^ 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HIS CORRESPONDENCE FROM 1803 TO 1813. 
 
 Affectionate reception by liis people. Rev. Dr Wangh. Letters from 
 Dr Waugh. Letters to the same. His mother's death. INIemorial 
 of his mother. Rev. Dr Husband. Visit to Lochwinnoch. Attack 
 of illness at Aberdeen. Correspondence about a prisoner in France. 
 Falkirk charity school. Mr Belfrage's efforts to promote its 
 success. Unitarian collection for the school. Collection refused 
 by the managers. Mr Belfrage's letter in the Edinburgh Christian 
 Instructor. Mr Southwood Smith and the Editor of the Instructor. 
 
 Short thousfli Mr Belfrage's absence had been from his 
 flock, his return was hailed by them with feelings of un- 
 feigned delight. When he alighted from the coach in Fal- 
 kirk, upwards of a hundred of his people were assembled to 
 give him a cordial welcome. A young friend, who accom- 
 panied him from London, wondered when he beheld such a 
 crowd gathered around the coach, — until, u])on inquiry, he 
 was delighted to find, that it was the aifection of the people 
 to their minister that had drawn them together. Their 
 hearts rejoiced when they beheld their pastor restored to the 
 scene of his accustomed labour ; and he experienced no small 
 degree of pleasure, when he found himself once more com- 
 fortably seated under the paternal roof, and surrounded by 
 his affectionate charge. His visit to London proved to him 
 a source of the most agreeable reflection. It had introduced 
 him to the acquaintanceship of many excellent persons, both 
 
REV. DR WAUGH. 
 
 in the Established Church and among Dissenters. He had 
 seen society under new aspects, and had acquired a more ex- 
 tensive knowledge of the religious world. The magnificent 
 scale on which the public institutions in the British Metro- 
 polis were formed ; the wealth, the enterprize, and liberality, 
 which he had beheld displayed by British Christians in the 
 service of religion and the cause of humanity, both delighted 
 and astonished him : and he felt a high respect for the 
 character of those eminent and noble-minded men who took 
 the lead in the evangelizing of the heathen, and in every 
 work of beneficence and mercy. 
 
 Of the many excellent persons whom he met with in 
 London, and with whose friendship he was honoured, Dr 
 Waugh, minister of the Scotch Secession Church, Well 
 Street, was the one who made the deepest impression upon 
 his heart, and to whom he clung with the warmest affec- 
 tion. Dr Waugh possessed a cultivated understanding, a 
 polished taste, fascinating manners, a large share of philan- 
 thropy ; and he was thoroughly Scottish in his feelings and 
 habits. He was one of the founders of the London Mis- 
 sionary Society ; and was a most active and efficient promoter 
 of those religious institutions which had been formed for 
 diffusing the light of the Gospel, and the blessings of civiliza- 
 tion, among the children of men. Li him Mr Belfrage found 
 a spirit that was kindred to his own ; and betwixt them a 
 friendship was formed, which continued unimpaired during 
 a long course of years, and proved a source of great happiness 
 to both. They maintained frequent correspondence, with 
 one another, by letters. We shall enrich our pages by in- 
 serting some of these epistolary communications : they are 
 well worthy of a perusal, on account of their affording an 
 excellent portrait of those mental qualities which distin- 
 guished the gifted writers. Those letters which Mr Belfrage 
 wrote in the early part of this correspondence, we are unable 
 to give, as they have not been preserved. The following 
 were amongst the number of those which he received from 
 his valued friend :— - 
 
64 LETTER FR0:M REV. DR WAUCH. 
 
 " Salisbui'i/ Place, Londov, Wth Jime 1802. 
 
 " My Dear Good Brother — Receive a father and mother's 
 best thanks for your care of their son. Give the same to your 
 worthy mother and sisters at home. You must have had a con- 
 siderable encumbrance in him, especially at the time of the com- 
 munion ; but it will be of use, in checking the natural overflowings 
 of your benevolent heart, and confining them within the banks of 
 moderation and prudence. 
 
 " It will gratify the best dispositions of your heart to be in- 
 formed, that Mr Mason's services in Well Street, on the Sabbath 
 after your departure, brought to the widow of my worthy prede- 
 cessor, thirty-four pounds. Mr J did not arrive on the 
 
 Sabbath following ; but Mr Mason very obligingU^ came in from 
 Clapham, and preached in the morning in Miles' Lane, took the 
 whole congregation with him to Artillery Street in the afternoon, 
 and sent them back to their own meeting in the evening, to hear 
 Mr D 
 
 " In our interview with the King, every thing was gracious 
 on his part ; and, I hope, loyal and dutiful on ours. The sigiit of 
 the Duke of Portland, as Chancellor of the University of Oxford, 
 in his robes, and of about forty of the leading men, heads of 
 houses in the University, in their ancient dresses, with the cere- 
 monial of their presentation to the King on the throne, within 
 four feet of which Mr Steven and I stood, and also the sight of 
 the University of Cambridge, which came next, were very noble 
 and solemn indeed. The King looked remarkably well ; liker a 
 heathen god, in truth, than a mortal man. We were received in 
 the closet, after all was over. Our addi'ess, and the King's 
 answer, you will see in Dr Rippon's Baptist Register for the 
 1 st June. 
 
 " I rejoice in the care of the General Assembly about the 
 parochial schoolmasters, than whom there is not perhaps a more 
 respectable and useful body of men in the kingdom. It will be 
 the disgrace of the ministers, after the augmentations which have 
 been made to their livings, to leave their brethren in the vale of 
 poverty behind them. 
 
 " Mr Mason has spent some time, at their own houses, with 
 Messrs Thornton, Wilberforce, Charles Grant, Hardcastle, Cowie, 
 Blaitland, and other pious and opulent men, on his plan of esta- 
 
LETTERS FROM REV. DR WAUGH. 6S 
 
 Wishing a fund for the support of a divinity teacher in America. 
 Every encouragement, he says, is given to him that he could 
 reasonably expect. He and Mr J dined with us on Wednes- 
 day ; and spent the evening, with several friends, at Mr Napier's, 
 where he made known his plan, and received between five and 
 ten guineas. The setting of the wheels, as he calls it, a-going 
 here, will prevent him from visiting Paris. A gentleman, who 
 had just returned from that city, was of the company on Wed- 
 nesday evening, and detailed, at considerable length, the state of 
 religion in France. Mr M. is satisfied, that in less than three 
 months he could not gain any extensive acquaintance with the 
 matter. He goes, therefore, to meet, if possible, the Irish brethren 
 at their Synod ; and from thence to New York, by Greenock. 
 
 " I rejoice to think that the good and sober sense of the Se- 
 ceders in Scotland, will get the better of the wildfire of the Old 
 Light. Say not a sentence, my dear good Harry, of any civi- 
 lities shown you here. You paid well for them all, had they 
 been a hundred-fold more. 
 
 " I must try to come to a close. All your friends beg to be 
 affectionately remembered to you. The God, whom you serve 
 in the Gospel of his Son, keep his eye upon you, and his hand 
 about you ! 
 
 " I remain, with the most grateful sense of your kindness, 
 my dear brother, most affectionately yours, 
 
 " Alex. Waugh." 
 
 " Salisbury Place, London, \Qth June 1802. 
 
 " I have been tossed about of late, have had much to do, and 
 some things to vex me, so that I have not attended to my duty, 
 perhaps, either to William or you. But there is, and you preach it, 
 pardon to the penitent. I rejoice in the evidences of the divine 
 presence and favour in His ordinances, which you have been en- 
 joying. May our souls become as the season ! 
 
 " Mr J is acceptable everywhere ; and I find him a social 
 
 and kind-hearted brother. He preached in Eagle Street, last 
 Wednesday evening, on the compassion of Christ, — a most excel- 
 lent and consolatory sermon. I exchange with him on Sabbath. 
 Mr Mason goes on, with every prospect of success, in his divi- 
 nity teacher business. On Monday, I dined with our brethren at 
 
 E 
 
66 LETTERS FROM REV. DR WAUGH. 
 
 Mr Eadie's, and we did not forget your honour. I took them 
 down with me to the meeting of directors, where we heard an 
 excellent letter read from Captain Wilson, dated 13th March 
 1802, at sea, east of the Cape, giving an account of the health 
 and settlement of the missionaries at Otaheite. The prospect 
 has never been so fair in that quarter as at present. I mentioned 
 your acceptance of the office of director. 
 
 " Give Mrs Waugh's most grateful acknowledgments and 
 mine to your kind and worthy parent. Accept of the same for 
 yourself. No time can efface the impressions of esteem, love, 
 and gratitude, which your conduct has made on my heart. I 
 shall cherish and foster them. I remain, my very dear Harry, 
 most faitlifully yours, Alex. Waugh." 
 
 " Salisbury/ Place, London, 27th November 1802. 
 
 *' Your censure is just : I kiss the rod. Its gentleness goes to 
 my heart, more than if seven thunders of boisterous reproof ut- 
 tered their voices. Your attention to William, and the motherly 
 care of your dear parent, have laid us under the deepest obliga- 
 tions. Mr N , indeed, was to have written to her, months ago. 
 
 But, alas ! how much doth a sense of our duty give way to the 
 pressure of this world's business and pursuits ! Many thanks for 
 your kind inquiries after William. The change in his health and 
 appearance is truly great. 
 
 " Pardon my seeming forgetfulness ; for my mind bears re- 
 cord, that your person never presented itself to my view, since 
 you left us, without awakening the purest sentiments of exalted 
 esteem and undissembled affection. But, my dear Harry, if you 
 judge of my regard for you by either the punctuality, the length, 
 or the weight of my scrawls, you will do me wrong. 
 
 " The poor folks in Artillery Street, must give up the ghost, 
 qua congregation at Christmas. Our brother preaches better than 
 ever; but too, too solid, for a London sermon-hunting mob. 
 Miles' Lane people are going on in their usual way. All your 
 friends here are well, and cherish your memory with much cor- 
 diality. Mrs Waugh joins in affectionate regards, and much, 
 much gratitude to your dear mother, sisters, and yourself, with, 
 my dearest Harry, your faithful friend, 
 
 " Alex. Waugh." 
 
DANGEROUS ILLNESS OF A FRIEND, 67 
 
 ** Saluhury Place, London, 19M Feb. 1803. 
 
 " How is it with thee, and with thy dear mother and sisters? 
 William tells me he has sent down a superstitious Episcopalian 
 twelfth cake, with a pack of characters to be drawn for, and sustained 
 for the night, by them, and any of your grave co-presbyters, who 
 may happen to sojourn under your roof. I would not deceive 
 your honest unsuspecting youth. But, solemnly assure you, it is 
 as bad as any of the Jive articles of Perth. However, Liberari 
 ammam meam, and you take the consequences. 
 
 " I have had a sad fatiguing time of it, since our return from 
 the Continent: much lee-wai/ to make up. The visitations, how- 
 ever, are finished now ; but a new campaign is opening in pur- 
 chasing a church in Paris, preparing a selection of sermons for 
 translation, setting the magazine on foot, and a thousand things 
 at home. We have agreed to translate and circulate over the 
 Republic, Mr Brown's catechism, to be prepared by our brother, 
 Mr Black of Dundee, at whose earnest solicitation the measure 
 has been adopted. * * * 
 
 " Ever, ever, my dear Harry, your most affectionate and 
 faithfiil friend, Alex. Waugh.- 
 
 In the beginning of 1806, Mr Waugh was seized with a 
 lingering and dangerous illness, which threatened to termi- 
 nate his valuable life. On hearing of his friend's illness, Mr 
 Belfrage wrote him the following letter :— 
 
 " Falkirk, 12th March 1806. 
 
 " My Dear Sir,— I am truly sorry to hear that you have 
 been so poorly this winter. You will believe me, I am sure, 
 when I state, that I take the most sympathizing interest in your 
 distress, and most earnestly wish your speedy restoration to health 
 and usefulness. It is but a fortnight since I heard of your illness, 
 nor did I know its nature till Mr S mentioned it to me yes- 
 terday, at the meeting of presbytery. Excuse me for hinting this, 
 as I am afraid my not writing you sooner may have led you to 
 think that I take no interest in your situation. Often has my 
 heart glowed at the idea of your worth ; at the remembrance of 
 your kindness. While many things about London have vanished 
 from my recollection, you and your family are the objects of my 
 
 e2 
 
68 LETTERS TO REV. DR WAUGH. 
 
 undiminished esteem and regard. I can scarcely ask you to 
 write me ; but I earnestly beg that Thomas, or my old friend 
 William, would let me know, as soon as convenient, how you are. 
 Every day will be tedious to me, until the post shall bring me 
 intelligence respecting a friend so dear. May the consolation 
 you have given to others, in your public and private labours, 
 visit you in the season of confinement and affliction ; and may a 
 kind Redeemer support and bless you abundantly. 
 
 " My mother has been very ill this winter. She has had a 
 most severe rheumatic fever, which brought her very low. She 
 is now getting better, and has been out hearing sermon for two 
 Sabbaths past. The distress of friends strengthens all the better 
 feelings of the heart ; and, in our sympathy with them, it is sooth- 
 ing to reflect, that we are influenced by a spirit which Jesus 
 exemplified, and which he cannot but approve. May the joy which 
 my mother's recovery has diffused through our family, be soon 
 imparted to yours, by the establishment of your health. May we 
 be sensible of our obligations to Him who has heard our prayers 
 and seen our tears, and who saves the afflicted that lies low in 
 grief, 
 
 " Farewell, my dear sir, may tranquillity, and patience, and 
 confidence in the care of Heaven, and good hope, through grace, 
 possess your soul. 
 
 When Mr Waugh began to recover from his severe ill- 
 ness, it was deemed advisable that he should pay a visit to 
 his native country, for the re-establishment of his health. 
 Mr Belfrage, hearing of his arrival in Scotland, and anxious 
 to repay the kindness which he had experienced from his 
 friend in London, wrote him to the folio winoj eflfect : — 
 
 " Edinhurgh, 20th June 1806. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — Having heard of your arrival in Scotland, 
 when I came to Edinburgh yesterday, I take this opportunity of 
 requesting you to come and spend some time with us at Falkirk. 
 Nothing will gratify my mother and sisters more than having it 
 in their power to promote the comfort of one to whom they have 
 been accustomed to look with gratitude and respect. I need 
 not tell you how anxious I myself am to see you. I shall expect 
 
LETTERS TO REV. DR WAUGH. 69 
 
 a letter from you in two or three days ; and the sooner you can 
 come to me, and the longer you can stay with me, the better. No 
 Sacramental occasion will call me from home for some weeks. If 
 I could be but instrumental, in the smallest degree, to your relief 
 or your happiness, I should esteem it one of the most pleasing 
 circumstances of my life. O ! may the Father of mercies support 
 and bless you, my dear friend." 
 
 To this kind letter, Mr Belfrage received from his friend 
 the follovy^ing reply :— 
 
 " Kinross, 8th July 1806. 
 
 " My Dear Brother, — Many, many and unfeigned thanks 
 for your very affectionate invitation. Gladly would we accept of 
 it, were it in our power. We must, however, be in Edinburgh, 
 the end of next week, to see Dr Gregory, on a complaint in one 
 of the boys' eyes, which rather alarms us ; and we propose to bathe 
 for a fortnight at Leith, before I go south to my brother's on 
 Tweedside. I am going to Stirling to-morrow; and, if at all 
 possible, I will pay my respects to your worthy parent and sisters, 
 on my return to Dunfermline. But it is so uncertain, that you 
 must not lean on me. Give my love and cordial esteem to them. 
 I owe much to them and you for your kindness to William. God 
 bless you, my dear good fellow, and make you a blessing to them 
 who are dear to you, and to thousands besides. Ever and most 
 truly yours. Alex. Waugh. 
 
 Mr Belfrage again wrote to his revered friend, renev^ring 
 his invitation, in the following affectionate terms : — 
 
 " Falkirk, 10th July 1806. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I am extremely happy to hear that you 
 are deriving so much benefit from your visit to Scotland. We 
 will be extremely mortified, indeed, if we do not see you at Fal- 
 kirk. Forgive me for urging you to come. My heart is much set 
 on seeing you here. If you find it inconvenient to write me, Mr 
 
 S will, I hope, send me a few lines, to inform me when I may 
 
 expect you ; and I hope that he will come along with you. I can 
 keep myself disengaged every day next week, but Wednesday. 
 I have to preach at Linlithgow on that day ; but I can be home 
 
70 LETTERS TO REV. DR WAUGH. 
 
 by five o'clock. Remember me, in the kindest manner, to Mrs 
 Waugh, if she is with you. Long, long may you be spared, my 
 dear sir, for the happiness of your family and friends. 
 
 " P. S — You must not forget the remains of antiquity that 
 we have about Falkirk, nor Carron-works, whose wonders have 
 attracted the visits of princes. Your coming, while it will highly 
 gratify us all, will not be without amusement to yourself. Adieu." 
 
 Falkirk, nth July 1806. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I received yours at Linlithgow yesterday. 
 I would most cheerfully have come to Dunfermline to meet with 
 you ; but, from various reasons, which it is needless to detail to 
 you, it was out of my power. You mentioned that you were to 
 be at Leith, for a week or two, bathing. Could you not think of 
 coming out, at the end of some week while you are there, and 
 staying with us till Monday. It would be easy for me to prepare 
 beforehand for the Sabbath ; and I have some hopes, from what 
 you did at Doune, that you might be able to gratify us with the 
 forenoon's sermon. It would give me the highest happiness to 
 see you both in our house and pulpit. If you should think that 
 preaching twenty minutes would hurt you (for our forenoon's 
 discourse, after the lecture, is never longer), I would not insist 
 
 upon it. Mr K , I have no doubt, will give you his gig to bring 
 
 you and Mrs Waugh to Falkirk. If this plan does not suit you, 
 ^Tite me, and I will try to suggest some other. Eager friendship 
 will sharpen the invention of the dullest. 
 
 " I am exceedingly glad to hear such favourable accounts of 
 your health. May God continue his kindness to you. It is my 
 most fervent wish, that you may prosper and be in health, even 
 as your soul prospers. Write me as soon as you find it con- 
 venient. Wishing you every blessing from the All-wise Father, 
 who chastens whom he loves, I am," &c. 
 
 About two years after this period, Mr Belfrage was called 
 upon to sustain a severe domestic affliction, in the unexpected 
 removal of his mother from this earthly scene. The mes- 
 senger of death came to her in the form of a paralytic stroke, 
 and found her on her knees before the throne of grace. She 
 survived the shock only for a few hours, when her sainted 
 
DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. 71 
 
 spirit, released from its clayey tabernacle, winged its flight to 
 glory.* Though Mr Belfrage, and the other members of thd 
 family, felt severely the stroke that was thus inflicted on 
 them by the rod of the Almighty, yet they were not per- 
 mitted to sorrow as those who have no hope. They enjoyed 
 sweet consolation under this unexpected bereavement. Their 
 departed friend had long lived in close communion with God ; 
 and it was while she was engaged in the very act of holding 
 fellowship with her heavenly Father, that the angel of mercy 
 was sent to conduct her to her mansion of bliss. In a letter, 
 which Mr Belfrage wrote soon after the death of his mother, 
 to an intimate friend, he thus describes the circumstances in 
 which this afilictive event took place, and the painful feelings 
 which it produced : — 
 
 " Falkirk, 2Ath November 1808. 
 
 " It is with a heart agitated and overwhelmed with sorrow, 
 that I now write you. My mother, whose health, for some time 
 past, has been wonderfully good, was, on Monday night, at a 
 little past nine, struck with a fatal palsy ; and, at eleven, breathed 
 her last. It was while she was engaged in her evening devotions, 
 in her own room, that she was seized, and sunk upon the floor* 
 In a moment we were by her side. Medical aid was immediately 
 got. She was bled and blistered ; but all, alas ! was to no purpose. 
 A dispensation so unexpected and so severe, has shocked us more 
 than I can express. To my mother we were uncommonly at- 
 tached. Such were the virtues of her character, and such her 
 kindness to us, that we doated on her with a fondness which 
 deems the present separation the most insupportable of calamities. 
 We know that she is gone to the Father, and that we ought to 
 rejoice on this account. But nature shrinks. The heart is rent. 
 Wherever we go, her absence fills every thing with gloom ; and 
 we think how sad and solitary our dwelling must hereafter be 
 without her. We strive to bring our minds to acquiesce in what 
 God has done. We trust that He will be indulgent to our frailty, 
 who knows our frame, and remembers that we are but dust ; and 
 we lift our eyes to Him for everlasting consolation and good 
 hope through grace. 
 
 * This event took place on the evening of the 21st November 1808. 
 
iZ MEMORIAL OF HIS MOTHER. 
 
 " The Lord has tried your family with melancholy breachies, 
 and I am confident that you will take a deep interest in our 
 sorrow. I am much hurried at present, which obliges me to 
 shorten my letter. Pray for us, my dear friend, that He who 
 hath torn may heal us, and that He who hath smitten may bind 
 us up. Wishing you a course tlirough life marked more and 
 more by usefulness and comfort, I am," &c. 
 
 Soon after the death of his mother, Henry wrote a bio- 
 graphical sketch of her life and character, which was com- 
 posed by him, not with a view to publication, but to gratify 
 that strong feeling of filial affection, which he cherished in 
 his heart's core, toward her who had given him birth. " My 
 object,'" he says, " in the composition of it, was to soothe an 
 agitated heart, and to preserve in the family a memorial of 
 excellence, which, by the blessing of Heaven, will teach the 
 cultivation of the purest and most active virtue. The place 
 of her interment rendered it impossible to erect any memo- 
 rial near her ; but if the conduct of her children be animated 
 by the spirit of their mother, it will maintain a more vivid 
 impression of her excellence, than the best written epitaph. 
 Over this humble memorial, filial piety shall drop many a 
 tear ; and, as it marks the noble qualities which it records, 
 shall exclaim, ' Many daughters have done mrtiiously^ hut 
 thou excellest them all? " From this record, designed by an 
 affectionate son to perpetuate the remembrance of a mother's 
 excellence, we shall extract one or two passages. 
 
 Speaking of her ardent and unaffected piety, he says, — 
 '' She feared the Lord from her youth. A considerable part 
 of her time was spent in secret prayer. It was the refuge 
 she fled to in all her afflictions ; nor did she fail, in all the 
 arrangements of her family, to ask the Divine counsel, — or, 
 to use her own emphatic words, — to lay them all at Chrisfs 
 feet. In secret prayer, her mind had frequently uncommon 
 fervour ; and sobs and tears oft conveyed the feelings and 
 wishes to heaven, which could not be uttered. The interest 
 which she took in family worship was uncommon. Never 
 can I forget the earnest attention with which she listened to 
 
MEMORIAL OF HIS MOTHER. 73 
 
 the word of God, — the solemnity with which she knelt before 
 Him, and the grave, sweet melody with which she sung His 
 praise. Many as were the cares, and arduous the duties, of 
 a family like hers, yet she was all her life a most punctual 
 attendant upon public worship ; and often, when much in- 
 disposed, went to hear of God's loving-kindness in the midst 
 of His temple. Her conversation after sermon showed how 
 much she was impressed with what she had heard, and how 
 anxious she was to improve it. When the church dismissed, 
 either forenoon or afternoon, it was her custom, before par- 
 taking of any refreshment, to retire for prayer, that the word 
 of the Lord might have free course and be glorified, both in 
 herself and others. To a taste that was alive to all that was 
 acceptable in words, she joined a love of solid instruction, 
 and a desire to hear His excellence and grace unfolded whom 
 her soul loved. Oft have her children remarked, in the ex- 
 pression of her countenance, the melting of her heart at the 
 view of the mercy of the Lord Jesus, and the elevation of 
 her soul to Him who was speaking to her from heaven. 
 
 " About three years before her death, she had a most 
 severe illness, which lasted several weeks, and from which 
 she recovered very slowly. When she was getting better, 
 but was still very weak, she expressed the greatest anxiety 
 to hear my last sermon on that text. Him that cometh unto 
 me^ I will in no wise cast out. We could not consent to her 
 going out, as it was then most inclement weather. After 
 the church was convened, she muffled herself up, and came 
 in, and sat down in a dark corner, and listened to the grace 
 of the Redeemer, to the penitent believing soul. We knew 
 not this till long afterward, when she told us of the conso- 
 lation it had given to her mind, and how it strengthened her 
 confidence in the Saviour's compassion. Amid the variety of 
 books that were in the house, the Bible was her chief study. 
 Her dehght was in the law of the Lord, and in His law did 
 she meditate day and night. The other books that she read 
 were of a serious practical cast. For some time before she 
 
74 MEMORIAL OF HIS MOTHER. 
 
 died, she had been employed in reading the works of Traill, 
 Boston, and Doddridge. The " Rise and Progress of Re- 
 ligion in the Soul," was her favourite hook. 
 
 " In company, she embraced every opportunity of point- 
 ing out the importance of eternal things, and checking, with 
 a mildness that gave weight to all she said, that idle frivolity 
 of conversation, by which precious time is wasted, and im- 
 mortal beings degraded. In the company of the pious, she 
 placed all her delight. However humble their condition, 
 they were welcome to her house, and with them she used to 
 converse about the words of eternal life. She was a most 
 faitliful attendant on the diets of examination, which were 
 held every spring in the session-house, and used to take her 
 seat near the door, that the members of the different quarters 
 might get the more comfortable ones ; and there she remained 
 till the close of the diet. Oh Jesus ! in her was the spirit of 
 the Mary, whose delight in thy word thou didst so warmly 
 extol, and in her it dwelt richly in much wisdom. 
 
 " She took an uncommon interest in the beauties of na- 
 ture. It was the interest not merely of taste, but of piety. 
 She was accustomed to take her children, when young, to a 
 particular spot in a neighbouring wood ; and there, seated 
 under the shade of a tree, with a rivulet flowing near her 
 feet, she enjoyed the prattle and the sport of her little ones ; 
 while her gratitude, her adoration, and her wishes for their 
 happiness, rose before the throne of the Eternal, mingled with 
 the notes of the birds that sang among the branches. It was 
 her delight, in advanced life, to walk to this spot, and to 
 cherish the tender recollections which it awakened. Often 
 has she, from my window, contemplated, with eager delight, 
 the God of Nature covering the earth with green in the 
 spring, — the luxuriance of our carse fields in summer, and 
 the progress of the harvest. Oft has she gazed on the moon, 
 casting her silver light on the sea. It reminded her of the 
 glowing descriptions, given by my brother Andrew, of the 
 beauty and splendour of the moon in the West Indies ; and 
 
AFFECTIONATE KEMEMBRANCE OF HIS MOTHER. 75 
 
 she reflected with a sigh, that the moon now shone hut on 
 his grave, and that, in the land of ever-during verdure, he 
 was mouldering into dust." 
 
 The memory of his mother was fondly cherished by him. 
 He delighted to recal her numerous excellencies. Amongst 
 his papers have been found a number of pious meditations, 
 which were composed by him on the anniversary of her 
 death. As oft as the day revolved, which reminded him of 
 the loss which he had sustained, he devoted part of it to 
 prayer and holy meditation ; he noted also upon it the lead- 
 ing events of providence, which had occurred either in his 
 own history, or in the history of his friends, since the pre- 
 ceding anniversary. These efHisions of piety and affection, 
 breathe such an excellent spirit, and furnish such a pleasing 
 picture of those devotional habits which pre-eminently dis- 
 tinguished the subject of this memoir, that it has been deemed 
 proper to give them a place in this volume. Instead of in- 
 serting them according to the periods when they were AATitten, 
 they are reserved as the ground- work of a separate chapter, 
 designed to illustrate the devotional character of the lament- 
 ed author. 
 
 Some of the letters written to him by his brethren in the 
 ministry, sjTnpathizing with him on the death of his mother, 
 were peculiarly consolatory. He had a heart that was sen- 
 sitively alive to the soothing voice of friendship. As he de- 
 lighted to administer comfort to others in the season of their 
 distress, so the language of kindness, addressed to him by 
 those whom he loved, dropped like balm upon his soul in the 
 hour of trial. We shall here insert the letters which he re- 
 ceived on this melancholy occasion, from two of his most 
 valued friends. The first was written to him by the Rev. 
 Dr Husband of Dunfermline, — a person who, on account of 
 his distinguished talents, his elegant manners, and genuine 
 piety, occupied a high place amongst the ministers of his 
 day, and betwixt whom and Mr Belfrage, there existed, 
 through life, a friendship, founded on high mutual esteem, and 
 cemented by a long-continued interchange of kindly oflices. 
 
76 LETTER FROM REV. DR HUSBAND. 
 
 *' Dunfermline, 29th November 1808. 
 
 " Last week I received your letter, containing the melan- 
 choly intelligence of the death of your worthy mother. Most 
 sincerely do I take part in your sorrows, and in those of the 
 family, on the mournful occasion. I feel as at the loss of a friend 
 whom I much respected and loved. The hospitality and kind 
 attention which I often experienced from her, have left on my 
 mind a pleasing melancholy recollection. I was often a witness 
 of her prudent and active exertions on behalf of her young family, 
 in their early years, and saw the aifection and mild dignity with 
 which she conducted herself, both as a wife and as a mother. 
 Your loss is great, but her gain is unquestionable. She hath en- 
 tered into her rest, and your sorrow is not on her account, but 
 your own. But your heavenly Father will not leave you com- 
 fortless. The promises of His word are a copious source of con- 
 solation ; and you know Him who hath said, * I will never leave 
 you, nor forsake you.' Happy dispensation, however afflicting 
 in its nature, which gives us an impressive view of the vanity of 
 the best earthly enjoyments, and leads us to God himself, as the 
 only good that can never fail us. 
 
 " The situation in which your mother received the summons 
 to depart, is a circumstance on which the mind dwells with plea- 
 sure. She was at the gate of heaven, pouring out her heart to 
 Him whom she knew and believed. Are you not ready to wish 
 that the messenger of eternity may find you employed in a simi- 
 lar manner ? Come when he will, may he find us in the way of 
 duty. May the God that comforteth them that are cast down, be 
 the consolation of you." 
 
 The next letter was written to him by his warm-hearted 
 friend, Dr Waugh.* 
 
 " London, bth January 1809. 
 
 " My Dear Brother, — In sorrow doubly dear, could my 
 sympathy, could my prayers, alleviate the pressure on your ten- 
 
 * This letter has already appeared in the Memoir of Dr Waugh, prepared 
 by the Rev. James Hay, and the Rev. Henry Belfrage ; but the excellence of 
 the letter, and the close connection which it has with the subject of this Me- 
 moir, entitle it to a place in these pages. 
 
T.ETTER FROM DR WAUGH. 77 
 
 der heart, soon, very soon, should the pressure be alleviated. 
 There is a glorious Personage who hath power with God, who, 
 in all the afflictions of His people, is Himself afflicted. Let your 
 eyes be lifted to Him, let your tears fall at His feet, and, from 
 His intercession, expect present support and future relief. 
 
 " You have now a favourable opportunity of illustrating the 
 power of the Gospel you preach, to strengthen the mind in the 
 deepest distress. Embrace and improve the occasion. The Lord, 
 my dear Henry, is now preparing you for the work of comfort- 
 ing others with the same consolations wherewith you yourself are 
 comforted of God, and fitting you for more extensive usefulness 
 in the house of mourning. In your gentleness of disposition, and 
 in principles far superior to constitutional temperament, your dear 
 sisters will feel ample relief under the severe privation with which 
 the Lord hath visited them. You will all cleave more closely to 
 each other, and your tears will cement the union, which this ca- 
 lamity, in vulgar minds, is frequently found to weaken. I take 
 them to my arms, and I shall not put my name to this scrawl, till 
 I have bowed my knees to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all grace, in their 
 behalf. They are the children of many prayers, and will have 
 reason, with good Mr Flavel, to bless God for answering a mo- 
 ther's prayers, many years after her translation to glory. It is 
 not improbable, that the last beat of her devout heart, when 
 smitten on her knees, was an act of fervent supplication on their 
 account. 
 
 " Farewell. Love me, pray for me, write to me ; and believe 
 me to remain ever, ever, my dear Henry, your sympathizing and 
 affectionate friend." 
 
 In the spring of 1810, Mr Belfrage received an invitation 
 from the congregation of Lochwinnoch, to pay them a visit, 
 and dispense the ordinance of the Supper among them. That 
 congregation was one of those which had given him a call at 
 the commencement of his ministry, and they still cherished 
 toward him their first love. Mr Belfrage regarded them as 
 an affectionate and intelligent people, and it gratified him to 
 have an opportunity of giving them a proof of the esteem in 
 which he held them. After the lapse of a number of years, 
 
 F 
 
TS LETTER TO DR WAUGH. 
 
 the people were delighted to see him once more amongst 
 them, and he was no less gratified with the proofs of their 
 affection which he received. 
 
 His benevolent disposition was highly gratified, wdien at 
 any time he had an opportunity afforded him of relieving the 
 distressed, or of exerting himself in the cause of humanity. 
 Frequently were applications made to him, for his friendly 
 offices on behalf of the unfortunate ; and such applications 
 were seldom, if ever, made to him in vain. Like his Divine 
 Master, in whose footsteps he endeavoured habitually to 
 tread, he made it his study to do good. We have a pleasing 
 instance of this in the following communication, addressed 
 by him to Dr Waugh, in answer to the letter of condolence 
 noticed above. 
 
 " Falkirk, 2\st June 1810. 
 
 " Your kind and consoling letter was received, by my sisters 
 and me, with the utmost gratitude. The death of my mother 
 was a severe blow to us ; but we have endeavoured to bear, and 
 to improve it, in the manner her example and lessons had taught 
 us. We live in the utmost harmony, and I trust will continue 
 to follow her faith, considering the end of her conversation. I 
 ought to have written you sooner, thanking you for that sympathy 
 of yours, which we so highly value ; but you have so many calls 
 on your attention, that I am reluctant to trouble you. My sen- 
 timents of gratitude and warm affection for you and your family, 
 are as strong as ever. I shall carry them to the grave. 
 
 " I have been led to trouble you at this time, in the cause of 
 humanity. One of our people, a James Willis, went to reside in 
 London, about ten years ago, and he and his wife were members 
 of Miles' Lane Congregation. He went to sea some years ago, 
 from London, and was captured by the French, and has continued 
 a prisoner in France for a long time. He is at present at Auxonne. 
 His wife returned some time ago to Falkirk, and is still here. 
 She got a letter from her husband, a few days since, by one of 
 the persons liberated for extinguishing a fire in the town where 
 they are detained. He appears very anxious about his return. 
 She called on me to-day, and mentioned that a Mr Campbell, of 
 the Transport- Office, a friend of yours, had been useful to her 
 
A HUMANE APPEAL. 79 
 
 when she was in London, in recovering some pay of her husband's, 
 and that he had promised to use his influence for his Hberation. 
 She begs me to request you to remind him of his promise, and to 
 do what he can to get him exchanged. He was a man of excel- 
 lent character, and, I believe, a good Christian. In the ship in 
 which he was captured, he was mate ; but, from the captain's hav- 
 ing got off, he has been viewed as commander, and is written to 
 as such. His wife has borne her afflictions with much patience. 
 They have not been small. She has had poverty, ill health, liope 
 deferred, and pining anxiety to struggle with. I hope that God 
 is now opening happier prospects to her, and to her companion 
 in tribulation." 
 
 Writing to the same, of date 28th August 1810, he 
 says : — 
 
 " I feel deeply indebted to you for the trouble you have taken 
 in compliance with my request. With Mr Campbell's spirit and 
 conduct, as displayed in his letters, I am charmed. His active 
 benevolence, his warm sentiments of friendship, and his devout 
 regard to the great Lord of all, have given me a very high idea 
 of his character. Mrs Willis was gratified very much by the 
 efforts that have been made ; and if there were tears of sorrow 
 among those which she shed, there were also some that flowed 
 from gratitude and hope. She showed me a letter, which she had 
 received from her husband. He writes in the spirit of a Chris- 
 tian, and seems to be useful in awakening serious impressions 
 among his countrymen, confined along with him. By family 
 worship, morning and evening, and by reading the Scriptures, 
 with prayer and praise, and exhortation on the Sabbath, he does 
 what he can to make those with whom he is associated wise unto 
 salvation. He was long under the ministry of my father ; and 
 God is calling him to use the talent he acquired here, in a way 
 that may lead us to admire the workings of Providence." 
 
 In another letter, written some time after the above, he 
 says : — 
 
 " It is at the request of Mrs Willis, one of my congregation, — 
 about whose husband, a prisoner in France, you have kindly in- 
 terested yourself, — that I now write you. In a letter which she 
 
 F 2 
 
so SEVERE ATTACK OF ILLNESS. 
 
 received from him a few days ago, he mentions that he had written 
 to you, in answer to two letters which he had received from you, 
 and beggedT'you to represent to the Bible Society the want of 
 Bibles among our countrymen, prisoners in France, that a supply 
 might be sent to them. From a letter of the same date with 
 yours, which he says he had sent to herself, not coming to hand, 
 she is afraid that yours may have miscarried also. That our un- 
 fortunate countrymen may receive the precious consolation they 
 are sighing for, I beg leave to state to you, that Mr Willis men- 
 tions their anxiety about getting the Scriptures, and religious 
 books, as very great. This hint, I know, will induce you to di- 
 rect the benevolent views of the Society to our countrymen in 
 France : And may the Word of the Lord have free course, and 
 be glorified." 
 
 During an excursion, which he made to the north of 
 Scotland, in autumn 1810, he had a severe attack of illness, 
 at Aberdeen. From his friends in that town, he received 
 every attention which kindness could suggest, or hospitality 
 confer. On reaching home, he gave some details of his jour- 
 ney, in a letter addressed to a friend. 
 
 " Falkirk, 21th September 1810. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — Your letter I received, at Falkirk, yester- 
 day. I was not present at the meeting at D It was on 
 
 Thursday, last week, that I reached home from Aberdeen. I felt 
 myself so weak and languid, as to be quite unfit for to take an- 
 other journey ; nor could I have enjoyed the party, though I had 
 been present. 
 
 " With regard to my jaunt to Aberdeen, I have nothing to 
 communicate of an interesting cast. On the Sabbath evening, as 
 I was finishing the service, I felt much exhausted ; and that night 
 I was seized with violent pains in my stomach and bowels, accom- 
 panied with great sickness. On Wednesday I became somewhat 
 easier ; but I was so weak, that I could scarcely walk through the 
 house. I could not leave Aberdeen till the I7th. On our way 
 home, we came to Montrose the first night, and to Dundee the 
 second. It was my wish to come to your house next night, but 
 Mr S. thought our best way was over the hills, from Dunning to 
 
LETTER TO A FRIEND. 81 
 
 Muckhart. It was dark, and when we came to Dollar, we could 
 get no proper accommodation for ourselves or horses, and had to 
 
 travel seven miles farther, to Mr T.'s, at M , a very worthy 
 
 and hospitable man. Here I remained that night, and got to Fal- 
 kirk next forenoon. I am not yet so well as I could wish. I was 
 the worse of preaching all day last Sabbath. This week I feel 
 myself growing stronger every day. In a short time, by the care 
 and mercy of God, I hope that I shall return to my usual health 
 and vigour. 
 
 " With the country, through which we passed, I was much 
 gratified, especially with the Carse of Gowrie. The people of 
 Aberdeen showed a kind interest in my situation, which I can 
 never forget. Mr Glass is highly respected in Aberdeen ; and 
 he well deserves to be so, from his piety, good sense, prudence, 
 and friendly manners. There is nothing very interesting to a 
 stranger at Aberdeen, except the two Colleges. Dr Brown we 
 did not see. His character, I find, has more splendour at a dis- 
 tance than at home. The memory of Campbell is much vene- 
 rated there. For talents, learning, and diligence, he has seldom 
 been equalled. 
 
 " I was sorry that, owing to the time of our jaunt, we missed 
 your Synod sermon. The business of last meeting was not very 
 important, I understand. I respect the feeling which led to your 
 
 absence from the meeting at D ; and sincerely do I wish, 
 
 that He who hath torn may heal — that He who hath smitten may 
 bind up." 
 
 A public-spirited individual, connected with the town of 
 Falkirk, having directed his attention to the number of des- 
 titute children in that place, who were growing up in igno- 
 rance and vice, and having suggested the idea of something 
 being done, in order to train them up in the fear of God, and 
 to render them useful members of society, Mr Belfrage's 
 sympathy was awakened on behalf of these juvenile outcasts, 
 and he eagerly adopted the suggestion, which had been thrown 
 out, of forming a scheme for giving a sound religious educa- 
 tion to those poor children, who were either deprived of their 
 parents, or who were altogether neglected by them. He 
 wrote letters to a number of the most influential gentlemen 
 
82 FALKIRK CHARITY SCHOOL. 
 
 in the town and neighbourhood, requesting their attendance 
 in his session-house, for the purpose of forming a Charity 
 School for Falkirk. A large and respectable meeting was 
 held for this purpose, on the 14th December 1812, when all 
 present cordially acquiesced in the plan proposed. In the 
 course of a few days, a liberal subscription was made, in 
 order to carry it into effect ; and, early in the spring of the 
 following year, the Falkirk Charity School was opened, with 
 forty scholars on its list. In the course of a year, the num- 
 ber increased to seventy ; and, for the last five or six years, 
 the average number on the list has been about a hundred. 
 The children who attend the Charity School, are assembled 
 on the Sabbath evenings, for religious instruction ; and, in 
 connection with this institution, there is an evening school, 
 during the week, where the girls are taught knitting and 
 sewing. 
 
 As Mr Belfrage, on account of the active part which he 
 took in the formation of this useful institution, may be re- 
 garded as its founder, so he continued to take a deep interest 
 in its prosperity, so long as he lived. He showed a great 
 concern for the spiritual improvement of the children, and 
 composed a catechism for their use. He was regular in at- 
 tending the meetings of the Committee of Management, and 
 frequently visited the school on the Sabbath evenings. In 
 one of the meditations which he composed on the anniver- 
 sary of his mother's death, we find the following notice taken 
 of the formation of this institution : — " This year, I have 
 been honoured to establish a Charity and Sabbath Schools in 
 this place, which are producing the happiest effects on many 
 of the young. Oh ! bless these institutions, more and more, 
 for forming the little children in them to knowledge, virtue, 
 and happiness ; and may this catechism, the address, and 
 prayers that I am printing for their use, contribute to the 
 religious and moral improvement of many. At thy feet, 
 thou Friend of little children, I lay these humble efforts. 
 In thy approbation, I shall have my best reward. Oh ! that 
 
FALKIRK CHARITY SCHOOL. 83 
 
 I may be honoured to sow the seeds, from which trees of 
 righteousness shall bud and flourish, when I am withered/^ 
 This institution united in its support persons belonging 
 to the different religious denominations in the town. Church- 
 men and Dissenters co-operated harmoniously in carrying it 
 on. Besides subscriptions and donations, a liberal collection 
 is made every year, in one or other of the churches, for its 
 support. The annual sermon is preached by a minister be- 
 longing to the Establishment and Dissenters, alternately. 
 Soon after the commencement of the charity-school, an at- 
 tempt w^as made by the Unitarians to establish themselves in 
 Falkirk by means of its popularity. Mr Belfrage exerted 
 himself, with success, to frustrate the attempt. The parti- 
 culars of this transaction, will be best explained by the fol- 
 lowing communication, which Mr Belfrage addressed to the 
 Editor of the Christian Instructor, under the signature of 
 "A Manager of the Falkirk Charity School :" — 
 
 " Sir, — A letter appeared a short time since in the Edinburgh 
 Star, reflecting on the managers of the charity school at Falkirk, 
 for refusing to accept of a collection which a Unitarian missionary 
 intended to make for it. On that letter I have made a few ob- 
 servations, to which I request you to give a place in your maga- 
 zine. For the sake of such of your readers who have not seen 
 it, I think it necessary to state the circumstances which gave rise 
 to it, and to present them with a copy of the letter. 
 
 " It was advertised in the Edinburgh Star, ' that on Sabbath, 
 the 24th of July, Mr Wright, a missionary from the London 
 Unitarian Fund, would preach in Falkirk, forenoon, afternoon, 
 and evening; and that the proceeds would be given to the 
 charity school at that place.' The managers of the school, who 
 had never been consulted on the matter, judged it necessary to 
 intimate to the public, that this proposal was altogether unauthor- 
 ized by them, and that they would not accept of any money 
 that might be collected on that occasion. They stated, ' that 
 they could not, in honour and conscience, receive what was to 
 be obtained by the exhibition of tenets, hostile to those principles 
 which they zealousl}^ inculcated on the young under their care, 
 
84 UNITAKIANS 
 
 and which they must ever regard as the dearest consolation and 
 hope of their hearts.' A few days after, the following letter ap- 
 peared in the Edinburgh Star : — 
 
 " ' To THE Editors of the Edinburgh Star — Sirs, — It 
 is requested that you will have the goodness to insert the follow- 
 ing explanation of a circumstance which is noticed in your paper. 
 It had been announced, that Mr Wright, missionary from the 
 London Unitarian Fund, would preach in Falkirk, on Sabbath, 
 July 24, and that the sum collected at the door would be given 
 to the Falkirk Charity School. The managers of this institution 
 deemed it necessary to announce to the inhabitants of Falkirk, 
 that they had made no request of this kind ; and have since 
 thought proper to declare to the public, that they would not ac- 
 cept of any money collected on this occasion. It was suggested 
 to Mr Wright by some of his friends in Falkirk, that it might be 
 in his power to contribute something toward the support of a 
 useful institution, and willing to express at least his wish to do 
 so, he permitted his friends to give public intimation of his de- 
 sign, not being in the least aware that it was necessary in Scot- 
 land (as in England it is not required), for persons to be of the 
 same religious faith before their offerings of charity can be ac- 
 cepted. That this expression of good will, from a gentleman 
 whose writings in support of our common Christianity are known 
 all over Scotland, and the object of every one of which is to pro- 
 mote the knowledge, or to enforce the practice of religion, 
 should be rejected with horror, while money collected by co- 
 medians, under the same roof, is received with gratitude, may 
 proceed, in the managers of the institution, from the very best 
 intention ; but does not seem to be the very best indication of 
 their wisdom or piety, their courtesy or candour. — I am, sirs, 
 your very humble servant, T. Southwood Smith.' 
 
 " The following answer to this .letter was not sent to the 
 Editors of the Star, though I was perfectly assured of their readi- 
 ness to insert it, as I did not consider a newspaper a proper place 
 for a discussion of this kind. I have always understood that it 
 w as as necessary in England, as in Scotland, that, before a clergy- 
 man intimated his intention of preaching for any institution, his 
 services should be requested by its managers, or at least that he 
 should ask and obtain their concurrence. Had Mr Wright made 
 
AND FALKIKK CHAKITV SCHOOL. 85 
 
 an offer of his services to the managers of the charity school at 
 Falkirk, it is probable that they would have been declined ; yet I 
 am certain this vrould have been done with such civility and po- 
 liteness, as would have satisfied him that we were not so deficient 
 in courtesy and candour as Mr Smith supposes. 
 
 " It is stated in the letter, that we first announced to the in- 
 habitants of Falkirk, that we had not requested his services, and 
 that we afterwards declared to the public, that we would not 
 accept of any money collected on this occasion. This statement 
 is far from being accurate. I do not say that it was intended ; 
 but it is calculated to make the world believe that we did not in- 
 timate our refusal of the collection till after it was made ; and to 
 lead them to imagine, that it was the smallness of the sum that 
 occasioned our rejection of it. But it is a fact, that when we ad- 
 vertised that Mr Wright's services were not solicited by us, it 
 was also stated, that the money to be collected would not be re- 
 ceived. This was done on the Saturday previous. The notice 
 of this in the newspapers was merely an intimation of what we 
 had done, and it was sent to undeceive those who, in other 
 places, might, from seeing the manner in which a Unitarian's 
 services were announced, have judged unfavourably of the prin- 
 ciples of the friends of this charity school. 
 
 " Your readers are requested to observe, that it was not the 
 donation of a private individual that was refused, but the money 
 that might be collected from the inhabitants of Falkirk, by one 
 who came before the public in the character of a Unitarian mis- 
 sionary, and whose avowed object it was, to exhibit, in his ser- 
 mons, the peculiar tenets of that party. In the letter which has 
 occasioned these remarks, Mr Wright is represented as a sup- 
 porter of our common Christianity ; and his writings are said to 
 have it for their object, to promote the knowledge and the prac- 
 tice of religion. Is not this language adapted to make the igno- 
 rant believe, that the differences betwixt us and the Unitariaiis, 
 as they style themselves, are few and trivial ? But how wide is 
 the distinction betwixt those who reject the divinity and the atone- 
 ment of our Lord with utter contempt, and represent those who 
 worship him as idolaters, — and those who adore him with supreme 
 reverence and affection, and rely on his sacrifice for everlasting 
 felicity! The Christianity of Socinians is Christianity stripped 
 
86 UNITARIANS 
 
 of its brightest glories ; and their religion frowns on the noblest 
 movements of the human heart. 
 
 " The managers of the school are held up to ridicule, in this 
 letter, for refusing this intended collection, while we received the 
 offerings of comedians with gratitude. This assertion may pro- 
 ceed from a flaming zeal against fashionable amusements, but it 
 is not the very best indication of its writer's accuracy, nor of his 
 honourable spirit as a disputant. Would the most violent oppo- 
 nent of theatrical entertainments say, that he considered giving 
 countenance to them as equally criminal with encouraging the 
 dissemination of opinions, which he viewed as most degrading to 
 the character of the Redeemer, and ruinous to the souls of men? 
 A candid and charitable mind, instead of upbraiding us with this, 
 would rather have supposed that we were now resolved to receive 
 no money for the support of the school, but from quarters against 
 which no exception could be made. But there is no necessity for 
 resting our defence on either of these grounds, as it is a truth, 
 that, though different companies of comedians have occasionally 
 visited Falkirk, they never gave a farthing to the charity school, 
 nor were their services ever solicited for its support. The only 
 circumstance on which this charge against us rests, is this, and 
 let your readers judge if it warrants it. A few young men, be- 
 longing to this place and neighbourhood, acted last winter here, 
 the Gentle Shepherd, and sent three pounds six shillings, as the 
 produce of their efforts, to the charity school. But this was so 
 far from being received with gratitude, that a strong dislike was 
 expressed by some, to the acceptance of it. It may, perhaps, 
 gratify these persons to find, that the disapprobation of theatrical 
 amusements, which has commonly been stigmatized as peculiar to 
 the austerity of Calvinism, has at last found its way among Uni- 
 tarians ; and that they are now becoming zealous against con- 
 formity to the world, in its gaieties and fashions. 
 
 " In the conclusion of the letter, the writer expresses his opin- 
 ion, that we have not given a very favourable indication of our 
 wisdom and piety, our courtesy and candour. If that be wisdom 
 which puts darkness for light, and light for darkness ; if that be 
 piety, which denies the Lord that bought us ; if that be candour 
 and courtesy, which smiles alike on the votaries of tmth and error, 
 and can, with equal readiness, bid both God-speed, we are, and 
 
AND FALKIKK CHARITY SCHOOL. 87 
 
 ever wish to be, strangers to such qualities. The wisdom we wish 
 to pursue, is that which, having proved all things, holds fast that 
 which is good. The piety we love to cherish, is that which ho- 
 nours the Son, even as it honours the Father. The candour and 
 courtesy we are desirous of cultivating, is that which, while it 
 opposes what is wrong, pities those who do the wrong, considers 
 every extenuating circumstance in their case, and labours, in 
 meekness and charity, to reclaim them. 
 
 " I shall suppose that a revolutionary lecturer had made his 
 appearance in Edinburgh a few years ago, and announced his in- 
 tention of publicly exhibiting the defects of the British constitu- 
 tion, and showing how much more friendly to the improvement, 
 the liberty, and the happiness of this country, a republican form 
 of government would be ; and that he had intimated that the 
 money he might collect from his hearers, would be appropriated 
 to the support of some of those institutions for promoting loyalty 
 and patriotism, which were so useful in your city, how would 
 the conductors of these institutions have acted ? This compari- 
 son is not meant to convey the slightest insinuation against the 
 loyalty of any body of religionists, but to show, that if the rejec- 
 tion of such proffered aid would be deemed a proper mark of 
 consistency and patriotic zeal, they should not be condemned as 
 narrow-minded and uncharitable, who decline the services of those, 
 in support of religious institutions, whom they consider as hostile 
 to the principles which they are intended to support. 
 
 " I request your indulgence a little longer, while I state a 
 circumstance, which will satisfy your readers, that we have been 
 treading in the steps of persons highly respectable in England, 
 which Mr Smith represents as the scene of liberality and candour. 
 A Mr Stone, who was expelled from the rectory of Cold Norton, 
 a few years ago, for preaching a discourse full of Socinian senti- 
 ments, made an offer of five pounds, as the profits arising from 
 the publication of two editions of his sermon, toward the sup- 
 port of the fund for the benefit of the widows and orphans of the 
 Essex clergy. The managers of that fund resolved, ' that the 
 offers of that blasphemous and heretical sermon be rejected with 
 disdain.' Wishing your valuable magazine all the success it so 
 well deserves. I am, Sir, your most obedient servant, 
 
 " A Manager of the Falkirk Charity School." 
 
88 UNITARIANS. 
 
 Mr Southwood Smith, the Unitarian minister of Carrub- 
 ber's Close Chapel, Edinburgh, was eager to avail himself of 
 this opportunity of entering into a controversy w^ith the author 
 of the above communication. He sent a reply for insertion in 
 the pages of the Christian Instructor : but the talented editor 
 of that periodical rejected it, on account of the prominent 
 and offensive manner in which the doctrines of Unitarianism 
 were brought forward in it ; and, in the following note, he 
 vindicated the part which the managers of the Falkirk Cha- 
 rity School had acted, while he administered castigation to 
 Mr Smith :— 
 
 " Mr Southwood Smith must either be very destitute of sa- 
 gacity himself, or he must entertain a very low opinion of our 
 sagacity, if he imagines for a moment that we will insert his com- 
 munication. We do not mean to enter into any controversy with 
 him respecting the transaction at Falkirk ; though we say decid- 
 edly, that, had the managers of the charity school there received 
 the money collected for their benefit by the Unitarian missionary, 
 they would have acted a part equally criminal and absurd ; be- 
 cause they would not only have given countenance to the propa- 
 gation of most unscriptural and most pernicious doctrine, but 
 would have sanctioned, in the most unequivocal manner, the very 
 means that were employed to counteract and render nugatory 
 their own benevolent labours among the children whom they had 
 taken under their charge. But really if Mr Smith, who has en- 
 tered as a volunteer into this dispute, thinks that we are to admit 
 into our pages a paper written under the flimsy pretext of merely 
 giving an answer to one of our correspondents on that subject, 
 while it is obviously intended, and directly calculated, to disse- 
 minate the mischievous peculiarities of his sect, he has formed an 
 expectation sufiiciently insulting indeed, but just as vain as any 
 that ever entered into his mind. His letter that we published was 
 not a private letter ; it had appeared in the Edinburgh Star, and 
 was actually extracted from that newspaper. And does this cir- 
 cumstance entitle him to insist, that we shall disgrace our pages 
 with his expositions of the Unitarian system, or with his rude at- 
 tacks on the faith which it is the object of our work to illustrate and 
 defend ? Or has he taken it into his head, that we have nothing 
 
AND FALKIRK CHARITY SCHOOL. 89 
 
 else to do than to write confutations of all the crudities that he 
 may be pleased to send us, under the disguise of candid inquiries 
 and honest vindications ? We assure him, once for all, that he 
 is quite mistaken ; and, when we notice him, or his coadjutors, in 
 the work of Unitarianism, it must not be in the way of giving 
 circulation to their heresy, but in that of reviewing and criticising 
 the works by which they are so industriously labouring to pervert 
 the Christian world." 
 
 The Unitarians do not appear to have made any farther 
 attempt, after this, to establish themselves in Falkirk ; or, if 
 they did, the small encouragement which they met with, 
 soon induced them to desist. 
 
90 
 
 CHAPTEH IV. 
 
 HIS CORRESPONDENCE FROM 1813 TO HIS SECOND VISIT 
 TO LONDON. 
 
 His first publication : Character of it. Letter from Rev. Dr Law- 
 son. Letter from Rev. Dr Husband. ]\Iissionary zeal. Rev. Mi- 
 chael Gilfillan of Dunblane. Clerical honour. Enlargement of 
 his church. Second publication. Letters. Practical Catechism. 
 Escape from a foot-pad. His sentiments on the union betwixt the 
 two Secession Synods. Another volume of Addresses. Preaches a 
 funeral discourse for Rev. Dr Husband. Letters from Rev. James 
 Macfarlane. Publishes " Sketches of Life and Character." Moni- 
 tor to Families. Receives the degree of Doctor in Divinity. Let- 
 ter from Sir Hemy MoncreifF Well wood, Bai-t., D. D. Letters from 
 Rev. Dr Waugh. Reply. Second visit to London. Preaches be- 
 fore the London Missionary Society. Letters from London. 
 
 Hitherto the sphere of Mr Belfrages' usefuhiess had been 
 comparatively circumscribed, being chiefly limited to his 
 own flock and neighbourhood, and to those congregations 
 where he was called upon to assist at sacramental solemni- 
 ties. But he now began to enlarge his range, by making his 
 appearance as an author. In addition to his varied and ar- 
 duous labours, as the pastor of a large and increasing con- 
 gregation, he devoted himself, for a long number of years, to 
 the task of communicating religious instruction to his fellow 
 men from the press ; and, by the number and excellence of 
 his works, he has given himself a claim to the grateful re- 
 
FIRST PUBLICATTOX SACRAMENTAL ADDRESSES. 91 
 
 membrance of the religious world. By means of these, 
 " though dead, he yet speaketh." 
 
 It was in 1814, that Mr Belfrage commenced that series 
 of devotional and practical publications, which have procured 
 for him an honourable place in the list of religious writers. 
 These publications, on account of the elegance of their lan- 
 guage, the richness of their illustration, and the spirit of 
 piety which they breathe, are eminently fitted to please, to 
 comfort, and to instruct ; and the author, during his lifetime, 
 was amply rewarded for his labours, and was stimulated to 
 persevere in them, by the numerous testimonies which he 
 received, to the excellence and usefulness of his writings, 
 from persons who were well qualified to judge. 
 
 The first volume which he presented to the public, con- 
 sisted wholly of Sacramental Addresses. For this species of 
 writing, he was peculiarly well qualified. In the composi- 
 tion of such addresses, he stands unrivalled. Those who have 
 heard him deliver them to communicants at the Table of the 
 Lord, know how deep and powerful the impression was 
 which he produced. The melting tones of his voice, the 
 earnestness of his manner, the beauty of his language, the 
 variety and suitableness of his illustrations, and the rich vein 
 of Scriptural sentiment flowing, as it were, in one continued 
 stream from the cross, all combined to render these addresses, 
 when delivered, pre-eminently impressive. When presented 
 to the public in a printed form, they were perused with eager- 
 ness and delight ; and so favourable was the reception which 
 this volume met with, that the first edition w^s speedily ex- 
 hausted. 
 
 In one of the Meditations, penned by him on the anni- 
 versary of his mother's death, we find the following reference 
 to the publication of this volume. It marks the habitual 
 piety of the author's mind : — " This year I have finished, 
 through Divine help, and published my Sacramental Ad- 
 dresses and Meditations. Blessed be the Lord, who guided 
 me and supported me in that labour, and who has given such 
 a measure of public acceptance to it ! Oh, how my mother 
 
92 FIRST PUBLTCATIOX— SACRAMENTAL ADDRESSES. 
 
 would have delighted in such a publication ! But her glow- 
 ing devotion contemplates the Lamb in the midst of the 
 throne, as it had been slain Let my faith anticipate the 
 views of glory, and let my heart glow with a religious aiFec- 
 tion, increasing in assimilation to hers. It would have gra- 
 tified me, above all earthly things, to have put this book into 
 her hands. But, O my Saviour, I will lay it at thy feet. 
 Oh, may it minister to the improvement of thy followers, and 
 diffuse the glories of thy name.'' 
 
 The reception w^hich this volume of Addresses met with 
 from the religious public, could not fail to be highly gratifying 
 to the author. With the exception of the catechism, which 
 he had published for the use of the children attending the Cha- 
 rity School, this was his first appearance before the world, as 
 a religious writer. The following opinion, pronounced upon 
 the merits of the volume, by a reviewer in a highly respect- 
 able periodical,* may be given as a specimen of the manner 
 in which the work was received by the religious periodical 
 press : — " This volume of Sacramental Addresses is, in our 
 opinion, fitted to be of great use. It shows, to ministers, the 
 diversity of points from which they may advance to conduct 
 the service of the holy communion, and suggests to them the 
 way of finding, without ceasing to be appropriate, that variety 
 of exhibition, which will make the same subject ever new, in- 
 structive, and charming. The ardent devotion which breathes 
 in these Meditations, may, through the blessing of Heaven, 
 set the soul of the minister on fire, and send him to break the 
 bread of life to the children of God, with his heart burning 
 in him, and his lips touched with a live-coal from the altar 
 of redeeming love. The devout perusal of these Addresses 
 is calculated also to enlighten the minds, and warm the hearts, 
 of intending communicants, and thus to bring both pastor and 
 people to the communion service, with views and affections 
 happily suited to its exalted nature and design. We think 
 them peculiarly calculated to solemnize the mind before the 
 Majesty of heaven, and to soothe the heart with the kindness 
 
 * The Edinburgh Christian Instructor. 
 
LETTERS FROM DRS LAWSON AND HUSBAND. 98 
 
 of Jehovah's love ; to endear to the soul the blessed Saviour, 
 to the full extent of his character, and w^ork, and will ; to 
 purge out the old leaven of malice and w^ickedness, and to 
 make the observance of the Supper truly the remembrance of 
 Christ, and, at the same time, the communion of saints."' 
 
 Mr Belfrage received communications from several of his 
 friends in the ministry, expressing their high approbation of 
 his work. We insert the following. The first is from that 
 distinguished ornament of the Secession Church, the Rev. Dr 
 Lawson, Professor of Divinity in connection with the Asso- 
 ciate Synod : — 
 
 " Selkirk, April 1814. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I thank you for your valuable present. I 
 could scarcely have hoped that a whole volume of Table Discourses 
 could have been composed without too many repetitions, or with- 
 out departing too far from the great subject of meditation pre- 
 sented to us in the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. But redemp- 
 tion by Christ, as appears in your book, contains the most power- 
 ful motives for every duty of the life of a Christian. It is my 
 wish, that you may always retain a warm feeling of those impres- 
 sive truths, which you have been taught of God to set forth in 
 the view of other men. I hope many will be much edified by 
 your book. This hope gives more pleasure than the expectation 
 of the highest fame that literary performances can acquire. 
 
 " My family wish you the best of blessings. I am yours af- 
 fectionately, " G. Lawson." 
 
 The next is from the Rev. Dr Husband, Dunferm- 
 line : — 
 
 " Dunfermline, 31st December 1814. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I ought long ere now to have expressed 
 my sincere gratitude for the very acceptable present with which 
 you honoured me. 
 
 " I feel myself restrained, by a very obvious consideration, 
 from expressing to i/ou, what I could say with much truth, in ap- 
 probation of the work with which you have favoured the public. 
 I cannot say less, than that, in my opinion, it abounds with a rich 
 variety of evangelical matter, expressed with much energy, and 
 happily adapted to answer its design of communicating to the 
 
94 MISSIONARY ZEAL. 
 
 reader that warmth of feeling, which, no one can doubt, guided 
 the pen of the writer. I have read the work with much pleasure 
 myself, and am happy that it engages the attention, and, I hope, 
 interests the hearts, of my family. It is to me no small recom- 
 mendation of the work, that it is so characteristic, as to have the 
 effect of placing the author before my eyes, and of conveying to 
 my ears the sound of his voice. May the Lord bless it, to the 
 edification of your flock, and of all into whose hands it may fall." 
 
 The following extract is from a letter written by the Rev. 
 James Macfarlane, colleague to the Rev. Dr Husband : — 
 
 " Your kind favour I received on Monday evening, which I 
 presented to Mrs M., with earnest instructions to careful and re- 
 peated perusals. I sincerely wish that she, and all who read your 
 valuable Addresses, may believe the doctrines they so appositely 
 illustrate, imbibe the spirit they so warmly recommend, and re- 
 duce to practice the duties they so zealously inculcate." 
 
 Mr Belfrage, in common with the ministers and people 
 of the Secession Church, took a deep interest in the success 
 of that magnificent institution, the Bible Society. When an 
 Auxiliary was formed in Stirling, for the county and neigh- 
 bourhood, he enrolled himself as a member ; and, until the 
 blight came over it, by means of the unhappy Apocrj^hal 
 controversy, which rent the Auxiliary asunder, he continued 
 one of its warmest and steadiest friends. He contemplated, 
 with a philanthropic mind, the mighty movements that were 
 made by the various missionary institutions that had been 
 formed, in our own and in other lands, for the conversion of 
 the heathen. These institutions had an interest in his prayers, 
 and he contributed liberally for their support. He formed 
 an association in his congregation, which, for a number of 
 years, rendered effective aid to the sacred cause. 
 
 A few extracts from the letters written by him, at this 
 period, will show the catholic spirit which he cherished in 
 reference to these institutions ; and the ardour of mind, with 
 which he co-operated, along with his fellow Christians, in 
 giving them support. 
 
MISSIONARY ZEAL. 95 
 
 To the Reverend Dr Waugh : — 
 
 Falkirk, 4th April 1814. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — Before I tell you how to dispose of the 
 inclosed draft, I must give you some account of it. I have esta- 
 blished an Auxiliary Missionary and Bible Society in my congre- 
 gation, which has been joined by a few individuals from some of 
 the other societies in Falkirk. It commenced in February 1813. 
 The first half year's produce of its funds came to L. 32, which 
 we gave to the Stirlingshire Bible Society. The last half year's 
 produce was found, in the end of last February, to amount to 
 L. 38, 17s. This is the sum in the draft ; and, as it was collected 
 for aiding missionary efforts, we agreed to give Twelve Guineas to 
 the Baptist Missionary Society, and Thirteen Guineas to the Mora- 
 vian Missionary Society. I have indorsed the draft to you. You 
 will take the trouble of getting the money, and paying the Twelve 
 Guineas to Mr Hardcastle. We have repeatedly aided that society, 
 and they deserve the countenance and gratitude of the Christian 
 world. Be so good as pay the Thirteen Guineas to Mr Latrobe, 
 and express to him the deep interest which I and my friends have 
 taken in their proceedings, and that we will be much gratified by 
 any account of their missions he may think proper to send us. I 
 am peculiarly attached to the Moravian Missionaries, from the 
 self-denial and meekness which, in such an uncommon degree, 
 mingle with their zeal. You will have the goodness to pay the 
 Twelve Guineas to the Baptist Missionary Society. It is intended 
 for the support of their missions in the East, as well as for aiding 
 their translations. The names of the missionaries in the East 
 must be dear to every enlightened friend of literature as well as 
 of religion. 
 
 " Write me as soon as you receive this draft, that I may be 
 sure it has reached you. Write me by post, without waiting for 
 a frank. I hope, my dear sir, that your health and spirits are 
 good this spring. Believe me, I never think of you, but my 
 heart glows." 
 
 To the Reverend Mr C 
 
 Falkirk, 2d March 1815. 
 
 " Rev. Dear Sir, — I had the pleasure of your letter, by your 
 mother. I am glad she is now so well, and hope that she will be 
 
 G 2 
 
96 MISSIOXAKY ZEAL. 
 
 long spared in health and comfort. I was gratified to learn that 
 you are somewhat better. I saw Mr Paterson on Tuesday. He 
 is now very weak indeed. He could not speak much, and his 
 voice is feeble ; but there was such good sense, such humility, 
 and pious emotion in what he said, that I was much affected by 
 it. I felt, in leaving him, that I would never see him again in 
 this world. In his lonely case, I saw the care and mercy of a 
 supporting Redeemer. 
 
 " On Monday, our Auxiliary Missionary and Bible Society 
 met here. Our half yearly collection came to L. 30. We agreed 
 to give ten to the Moravians, ten to the Baptists, and ten to the 
 London Missionary Society. The meeting was most pleasing. 
 I began with psalms and prayer, and read some interesting ex- 
 tracts from the proceedings of these societies. Two members of 
 the congregation prayed afterward, and twice we joined again in 
 praise ; and, at the close, I gave a short address to them. One 
 of the persons who prayed was a prisoner some years in France ; 
 a truly excellent man. At our next meeting in August, he is, 
 at my request, to give us some account of the state of religion 
 among his fellow prisoners in France." 
 
 In another letter to Dr Waugh, dated 19th April 1817, 
 he says : — 
 
 " Along with this, you will receive a draft for L.9, 10s., for 
 the London IVIissionary Society, from the Auxiliary Missionary 
 and Bible Society, in my congregation. When the draft is due, 
 you will, I hope, take the trouble of getting the money from the 
 banker, and paying it into the treasurer of your society. The 
 exertions of the London Missionary Society are indeed great ; 
 and I trust that the zeal and liberality of the Christian world will 
 enable them to maintain and extend these, till the time shall come 
 when the example of Ethiopia, in stretching out her hands to God, 
 shall be followed by every heathen tribe, and the salvation of 
 Jesus shall be the joy of the whole earth !' 
 
 In the autumn of 1816, he was called upon to perform a 
 melancholy duty, in preaching the funeral sermon of an ho- 
 noured servant of God, who had long been his own and his 
 father's friend — the Reverend Michael Gilflllan, of Dun- 
 
REV. MICHAI^L GILFILLAN. 97 
 
 blane *. He chose for his text, on that occasion, Heb. xiii. 7 ; 
 " Remember them which have the rule over you, who have 
 sjioken unto you the word of God ; whose faith follow, con- 
 sidering the end of their conversation/' The concluding 
 portion of the sermon he published soon after, in the Chris- 
 tian Repository, under the title of " A Tribute of Respect and 
 Affection to Departed Worth.'' 
 
 Writing to a friend on this subject, he says: — " You will, 
 by this time, have seen my humble tribute to departed worth. 
 I did not intend to publish it, when it was prepared for the 
 pulpit ; but some of Mr F.'s family wished for copies of it, and 
 others urged me to send it to the Repository. It was my 
 wish, in that description of my departed friend, to exhibit 
 the principal features of his character, and the leading events 
 of his life; and, were I to attempt to write a memoir, I 
 would only enlarge a little more on the topics to which I 
 have already adverted. I cannot now think of writing any 
 memoir ; and, if any thing of that kind is still wished for, I 
 hope some of the many friends of the excellent man to whom 
 we were so much attached, will engage in it, and finish it in 
 a manner superior to any thing I can pretend to. He will 
 live in our respectful remembrance ; and I trust God will 
 give us grace to aid us in our efforts to copy his useful life, 
 his devout habits, his engaging benignity, and exemplary 
 manners. Would you write me soon, and let me know if 
 the friends of Mr Gilfillan about you are still anxious for a 
 memoir, and if this is your own wish ; and if Mr Husband 
 and you will undertake it, I shall be happy to furnish you 
 with any anecdotes illustrative of his character, which may 
 be viewed as adapted to such a narrative." 
 
 Such was the attachment of ^Ir Belfrage to the memory 
 of this good man, that, notwithstanding of the resolution 
 expressed in the extract now given, he did write a sketch of 
 his life and character, some time after this, and published it, 
 along with similar sketches, in a small volume. The title 
 prefixed to the sketch of his friend, was the appropriate one 
 
 * This excellent man died suddenly, on the evening of IMonday, IGth Sep- 
 tember 1816, in the 69th year of his ago, and 49th of his ministry. 
 
98 REV. MICHAEL GILFILLAN. 
 
 of " A Good Minister." The concluding part of this sketch 
 is instructive ; and we deem no apology necessary for giving 
 it a place in the memorial we are now writing. The perusal 
 of it will interest the general reader ; and it will recal many 
 pleasing recollections to the minds of those who were ac- 
 quainted with the excellent individual to whom it refers. — 
 " The last time I saw him (says Mr Belfrage), was at Stir- 
 ling, in August 1816, to which place he had come to attend 
 the annual meeting of the County Bible Society. He was in 
 his usual health and spirits ; and rose to second the motion, 
 ' That the exertions of the British and Foreign Bible Society 
 deserve the gratitude and support of Christians.' I recollect 
 most distinctly, the impressive language in which he spoke 
 of the value of the Bible, and of the obligations which the 
 dying love of Christ laid on us, to devote every power that 
 we had to his glory. It was marked by some of the audience, 
 that his face became pale during the speech, but he finished 
 it without any apparent agitation ; and, after he sat dowm, 
 requested me to go out with him. He left the County Hall, 
 leaning on my arm, and we went into an adjoining apartment, 
 where he sat down sick and faint. After taking a little wa- 
 ter, he felt somewhat relieved, and urged me to return to the 
 duties of the meeting, which I did, after seeing him con- 
 ducted, by a relation, to his dwelling. After the meeting 
 was dismissed, I called on him, and found him in bed, and 
 perfectly tranquil. He said he had been committing his soul 
 to Christ, in w^hose hands he had often placed it, and that 
 he knew that with him it was safe. It w^as plain that there 
 was in his constitution a strong tendency to apoplexy ; and 
 recourse was had to copious bleeding. He returned to Dun- 
 blane, strongly impressed with the idea of his departure be- 
 ing at hand, and said to a friend, ' I am not afraid to die ; 
 I know in whom I have believed ; I only wish to glorify God 
 on my deathbed.' He soon had s}Tiiptoms of another attack, 
 which required the application of the lancet again ; and, by 
 the loss of so much blood, and the very low diet to which he 
 was reduced, he became very feeble. During the three weeks 
 that elapsed betwixt the first attack and the fatal one, he felt 
 
REV. MICHAEL GILFILLAN. 99 
 
 himself ready to be oiFered ; and his conversation w^as Uke 
 that of one on the brink of eternity. When one observed, 
 that his death w^ould be a great loss to the church, ' Alas I"* 
 said he, ' I never did any thing to the glory of God, as 1 
 should have done ; and, if grace had not restrained me, I 
 know^ not what I might have been. O ! w^retched man 
 that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? 
 But how comfortable ! It is a faithful saying, and worthy 
 of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to 
 save sinners — the chief of sinners !' Resting himself one 
 day on his bed, he said thrice, with much emphasis, ' Oh ! 
 what a poor creature I am ! All my righteousnesses are as 
 filthy rags.' Such were his impressions of the extent of God's 
 claims on him, and of his ovm deficiencies, that he reckoned 
 himself, as Christ enjoins us to do, an unprofitable servant. 
 This humiliation of soul was not associated with despair. 
 Not long before his death, he heard, at the communion, a 
 discourse on that text, Isa. xli. 17, 18 ; ' When the poor and 
 needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth 
 for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel will 
 not forsake them ; I will open rivers in high places, and foun- 
 tains in the midst of valleys ; I will make the wilderness a 
 pool of water, and the dry land pools of water.' During that 
 sermon, his soul had been sweetly solaced, and this soothing 
 promise encouraged him during all his confinement. 
 
 " When the idea of recovery was held out to him, he said, 
 ' Oh, that I may come out of the furnace more purified, and 
 more fitted for the master's use. I cannot expect to grow in 
 knowledge and gifts now ; but if I grow in grace, that is best. 
 All I wish for is, to be more holy, and more active for Christ.' 
 He gave no indications of solicitude about life, nor did I ever 
 see any one who discovered so little of the fear of death. In 
 various scenes of intercourse with him, I have marked some- 
 thing uncommon in the calmness with which he spoke of 
 death, when the subject was adverted to. Reluctance and 
 timidity to die, he viewed as unbecoming the Christian's 
 hope, and inconsistent with the love he professed for the 
 
100 REV. MICHAEL GILFILLAX. 
 
 Saviour. There are ties to life, which many good men have, 
 which he had not ; and it had been his long study to subject 
 every feeling to the control of reason, and to the guidance of 
 religious principle. Opportunities of doing good were the 
 only attractions which this earthly scene presented to his 
 mind. In three weeks his strength was in part restored ; 
 and, on the 28th of September, he attended public worship, 
 and was resolved, if Providence permitted him, to preach on 
 the ensuing Sabbath. To the remonstrances of some of his 
 friends against his engaging in public duty, he stated how 
 painful it was to him to remain unemployed ; and the un- 
 easy feelings to which this would have given rise, would have 
 produced a more perilous excitement in his constitution, than 
 a moderate share of official duty could have done. But it 
 was not the purpose of Heaven that he should enter the pul- 
 pit or the sanctuary any more. On the JMonday, he should 
 have gone to Kinross to meet with some ministers, in an 
 association formed for friendly and improving intercourse. 
 In the annual meetings of that society, he felt a great in- 
 terest. It was endeared to him by the memory of valued 
 friends that once blessed it, by the company of his younger 
 brethren, to whom he was much attached, and by the infor- 
 mation which it elicited, and the kind affections which it 
 cherished. He felt that he could not undertake such a jour- 
 ney, but sent them a message expressive of his kindest re- 
 gards. Alas ! ere that meeang was dismissed, the mournful 
 intelligence of his death reached them ; and, on the Saturday, 
 they were assembled to convey his body to the grave. 
 
 " He spent that Monday in reading, and prayer, and re- 
 ligious conversation ; and in the evening went out to attend 
 the weekly meeting of the Savings' Bank. After his return, 
 he called the family for worship ; and, after it was over, con- 
 versed a little with his niece, and retired to his apartment, 
 bidding her good night, and wishing her God\s blessing. 
 He read the 15th chapter of the First Epistle to the Cor- 
 inthians, — for the Bible was found lying on his table, open 
 at that place, — he engaged in secret prayer, and was stepping 
 
REV. MICHAEL GILFILLAX. 101 
 
 into his bed, when a blood-vessel burst in his head. His 
 niece, who was in an adjoining chamber, heard a noise, as of 
 a struggle in the throat for respiration, and ran into the 
 apartment, and, raising him up, asked him about his illness; 
 he gave her a look most expressive of kindness and peace, 
 and immediately expired. A surgeon was instantly sent for ; 
 but the moment he saw him, he pronounced that nothing 
 could be done. I never heard of his expressing any wish as 
 to the mode of his decease ; he left this, with perfect con- 
 fidence, in the hands of his Maker ; but it would not have 
 been possible for him, had it been left to his choice, to have 
 selected a death more sweetly tranquil. He had not the 
 painful consciousness of fading talents and declining popu- 
 larity, nor that heart-depressing loneliness sometimes felt and 
 lamented in advanced life ; for the vigour of his mind was 
 unimpaired, and he was surrounded by the most gratifying 
 expressions of public respect, and by all the attentions of 
 domestic kindness. And death came to him in its softest 
 form; for in his case there was no protracted suffering, no 
 harassing anxiety, no dark forebodings ; but while the glow 
 of prayer was on his heart, he, without pain or struggle, 
 sunk gently into rest. As he had spent much of his time in 
 prayer, and had peculiar delight in this exercise, so to him it 
 was given, when the work of devotion was ended, to ' gather 
 up his feet into the bed,' and to yield up the ghost." 
 
 Such was the peaceful termination of the life of one of 
 Mr Belfrage's most intimate friends ; one with whom he had 
 often taken sweet counsel together, and walked in company 
 to the house of God ; one whom he loved and venerated as a 
 parent. In one of his Meditations, written soon after the 
 death of this excellent individual, he adverts to his removal 
 in the following terms : — " Thou hast removed, this year, a 
 long and intimate friend of our family, a man eminent for 
 piety and usefulness, one who was the companion of my fa- 
 ther, and my own. Thou hast removed him in the same 
 sudden manner as my mother, on the same evening of the 
 week, at the same hour, and when he had just finished the 
 
102 CLERICAL HONOUR. 
 
 same devotional exercise, in which my mother was engaged, 
 when the hand of death touched her. O, may I see, in this 
 removal, an additional proof of the Almighty's complacency 
 in praying persons ! May I learn from it, to prepare for a 
 remoA^al as sudden ; and to me may it be as safe and as happy 
 as to them ! O, save from meeting with death in the scene 
 of folly, or with a heart carnal or presumptuous ! O, animate 
 me to the same holy zeal, the same eager devotion, the same 
 superiority to the world, the same purity of thought and af- 
 fection, the same readiness for the Saviour's coming, and the 
 same labours of mercy and love !" 
 
 The office of clerk to the Associate Presbytery of Stirling 
 and Falkirk, which Mr Gilfillan had for a long number of 
 years held, Mr Belfrage was now called upon, by the unani- 
 mous suffrages of his co-presbyters, to occupy. In a letter 
 to a friend, he makes the following playful allusion to the 
 clerical honour thus conferred upon him : — " The office of 
 clerk in our Presbytery is, I am sorry to say, fit only for a 
 rich man to hold. If I may judge from the postages, since 
 I was invested with it, I will have the pleasure of devoting 
 some money of my own, beside my labour, to the public 
 good." 
 
 The increase of his congregation rendered it necessary 
 that his church should be enlarged. In one of his letters, he 
 says : — " Our congregation have got estimates, last Thursday, 
 for the alterations in our church. It is to be entirely new, 
 except a part of the gables ; and will be done, according to 
 the lowest estimate, for about L.IOOO. The roof and seats 
 are as good as new, and will, in some way, be employed 
 again. We are to have 300 more seats, and the communion 
 tables much enlarged. Subscription papers are going through 
 the congregation at present, and if the sum obtained is any 
 way respectable, the work will be commenced in spring." 
 
 In another letter, dated 16th March 1817, he says: — 
 '' The foundation-stone of our new church was laid on Wed- 
 nesday, last week. I put into a bottle, which was laid in 
 the foundation, a piece of parchment, containing a short ac- 
 
PUBLISHES DISCOURSES FOR THE YOUNG. 103 
 
 count of the congregation and its ministers. I put also a 
 few coins, and a newspaper. We had no procession ; but I 
 hope there have been prayers in secret, that the Lord may 
 prosper the undertaking for his glory, and the good of all 
 concerned.'' After the rebuilding of the church was com- 
 pleted, he recorded, in one of his devout Meditations, the 
 following grateful acknowledgement of God's goodness : — 
 " This year our church has been rebuilt and finished in a 
 manner commodious and elegant; and, blessed be God, it 
 has been completed without the smallest injury to any indi- 
 vidual, — and, though considerably enlarged, it is well filled. 
 Blessed be God, that, during the time we w^orshipped with- 
 out, we had so many good days in an unfavourable season ; 
 and that the rains, which sometimes descended, were so mo- 
 derate, that none were injured in their health by the wea- 
 ther, and that it was often felt by not a few, ' It is good for 
 us to be here.' Blessed be the Lord, we are, on Sabbath 
 next, to observe the Lord's Supper in it, — that feast of dedi- 
 cation : May God fill it with glory, and render this first 
 Sacrament a token for good, and a pledge of heaven. This 
 is the third time I have seen it altered and enlarged, and it 
 is probably the last ; and when it is again touched, I shall 
 be dust. O, may I serve thee in it, with my spirit, in the 
 Gospel of thy Son ; and when I leave its pulpit (erected for 
 me as an expression of respect), to be occupied by another, 
 may it be with the full proof of my ministry, and with the 
 joyful hope of the Gospel !" 
 
 In 1817, he again made his appearance as an author, 
 by publishing " Practical Discourses, intended to promote 
 the Happiness and Improvement of the Young." These 
 discourses were preached by him to the young under his 
 pastoral care ; and he was induced to publish them, by the 
 hope, " that their practical counsels thus remaining, might 
 be useful long after the admonitions of the pulpit should be 
 forgotten." In one of his letters, he expresses the following 
 benevolent wish in reference to this publication : — " It would 
 gratify me, if there was a society for orphans established, to 
 
104 LETTER FROM DR WAUGH. 
 
 which I might devote any profits that might arise from this 
 little work." This volume met with a reception from the 
 public equally favourable as the former, and a demand was 
 speedily made for a second edition. 
 
 A copy of his work having been forwarded to the Rev. 
 Dr Waugh, he received from his friend the following letter, 
 acknowledging the favour : — 
 
 " Salishury Place, London, 29th November 1817. 
 
 " My Dear Harry, — I fear it will require all your candour 
 and charity, great as they confessedly are, to place me at that 
 point, in the scale of your estimation, where I wish ever to stand. 
 All the apology for my long silence, that, in truth, I can offer, is 
 this, that I have, somehow or other, suffered myself to be involved 
 and entangled in such a variety and perplexity of engagements, as 
 to put it out of my power to attend, as I ought, not only to the 
 claims of friendship and love, but, I fear, to the sacred duties I 
 owe to my family and church. 
 
 " The acceptance which your first volume deservedly received 
 from the public, is the best recommendation of the second ; and, 
 therefore, rendered it unnecessary to say much, on its internal 
 merits, in the notice taken of it, in the last number of the maga- 
 zine. My own young folks are reading it with delight, and I 
 hope spiritual profit. Go on, my dear brother. Work ; O ! 
 work while it is day. Age is dark and unlovely. I feel it to be 
 so. For a fortnight I have been confined, unable to move but in 
 
 a coach, by this sad complaint. Love to your dear sisters. W 
 
 has not forgotten their hospitable attentions to him. The com- 
 munion was in Miles' Lane last Sabbath. Peace and love, in 
 high tone, in the three congregrations. 
 
 " Poor D , of N ! My heart bleeds for him. Are 
 
 his people able, and disposed, to make his bed in his sickness ? 
 Could any thing, in the way of relief and succour, be privately 
 done ? If so, put me down for a guinea. We feel the pressure 
 in my little circle beyond all former example of suffering ; but I 
 would stir in his behalf. 
 
 " When you can snatch half an hour from more important 
 work, indulge me with a few lines. It is really a charity — Ever, 
 and most affectionately, yours." 
 
LETTER TO DR WAUGH. 105 
 
 After a short interval, IVIr Belfrage wrote the following 
 to Dr Waugh : — 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I was favoured with your letter in the be- 
 ginning of December, and I need not say how much my sisters 
 and I were gratified by your kind remembrance of us. You 
 have laid me under additional obligations to your friendship, by 
 the review in the EvangeUcal Magazine, which has been of 
 material service in circulating my little work. That I have been 
 honoured by your regard, and that any production of mine has 
 been deemed worthy of your praise, will ever, 1 trust, be re- 
 membered and improved by me as it ought. The second edition 
 of the Discourses is in the press, and will be out in a fortnight. 
 
 " I wish that I could persuade you to favour the world with 
 some of your sermons. To your people the volume would be 
 most precious ; and while it would enlighten and impress all who 
 read it, your numerous friends would regard it as the memorial of 
 sentiments and feelings which have delighted and melted their 
 hearts. I hope Providence will give you leisure for this labour 
 of love, by fixing your son with you in the work of the Gospel. 
 In such a connection I must feel a deep interest; and if God 
 shall so order it, your son will, I hope, be as happy with his father 
 as I was with mine. 
 
 " We have been preaching through the winter in our new 
 church. It was rebuilt last season, and is so much enlarged, that 
 we have got 300 more seats. It is an elegant and commodious 
 place of worship ; and in consequence of a private subscription, 
 among a few of the families in the congregation, a pulpit has been 
 erected in it which is very splendid. This was a scheme of the 
 young, to show their regard for me, and, in this view of it, must 
 give pleasure. 
 
 " We have little ecclesiastical news that would interest you. 
 Our Presbytery meets at Dunblane, on Wednesday next, to or- 
 dain Mr. A , who, I hope, will fill, with credit, the station 
 
 long occupied by our venerable and lamented friend. I have 
 been surprised that no memoir of him has appeared in the Evan- 
 gelical Magazine ; and certainly his enlightened piety, his active 
 and well-directed zeal for the glory of God and the good of his 
 fellow-creatures, and his cheerfulness, prudence, intelligence, and 
 
106 PUBLISHES A PRACTICAL CATECHISM. 
 
 modesty, might be useful, in no small degree, if properly ex- 
 hibited, to improve the religious character of the professed friends 
 of the Gospel. 
 
 " We have had two very interesting deaths this winter among 
 the young. The first was a lad of nineteen, who died of a short 
 illness. He was so remarkable for the sweetness of his temper, 
 that his father told me he never saw him in a passion ; and such 
 was his delight in the Scripture and in secret prayer, that when 
 he came in from his work to his meals, he was eager to snatch a 
 few minutes for the private exercises of devotion. 
 
 " The other was a young girl of sixteen, who was confined to 
 her bed for several months ; and, in her, patience had its perfect 
 work. So far from requiring consolation from her friends, she 
 was their comforter, by her pious sentiments, and that good hope, 
 through grace, that was the support of her heart. To her death 
 had no terrors. The love of Christ, in dying for sinners, was the 
 constant subject of her thoughts ; and she was heard to say, a 
 little before she expired, that, through grace, she was an heir of 
 heaven. It is delightful to think, that the Lord is giving testi- 
 mony to the word of his grace. 
 
 " I delayed writing you till this time, under the idea that I 
 might have a draft for the London Missionary Society to send ; 
 but the Edinburgh Missionary Society have so urgently claimed 
 the support of the friends of the Gospel in Scotland, at this time? 
 that our people wished their mite to be given to them. On an- 
 other occasion we shall renew our remembrance of you. 
 
 " My sisters join me in best wishes to Mrs Waugh and the 
 
 family, and to my friend W and his lady. It would give us 
 
 the highest pleasure to see you again in Scotland. Knowing what 
 claims are made upon your time, I cannot expect to hear from 
 you often, — but, do not forget me ; and believe me to be, with 
 the most earnest wishes for your health and comfort, yours most 
 affectionately." 
 
 During the winter of 1818, he prepared and published a 
 Practical Catechism, intended to exhibit the leading facts 
 and principles of Christianity, in connexion with their moral 
 influence ; to which he added an address to children, and 
 some prayers to guide the devotions of the young. This 
 
ESCAPE FROM A FOOTPxVD. 107 
 
 catechism was prepared by him for some classes of boys and 
 girls, which he established in his congregation, and which he 
 was anxious to train to the obedience of the faith. In one 
 of his Meditations, referring to these classes, which he had 
 lately instituted, he says : — " This year I have, for seven 
 months, held a weekly meeting for the instruction of the 
 young of my flock ; and I bless thee for the pleasure that it 
 gives me, and for the interest which was felt in it. Make 
 these, my young scholars, thy disciples indeed, — ornaments 
 to the congregation, and a blessing to their pastor. I ac- 
 knowledge, with gratitude, the kind reception my catechism 
 has met with. O that the young, who are employed in 
 learning it, may be taught of God, may be animated by the 
 spirit which it recommends, and be partakers of the blessings 
 it exhibits.'^ 
 
 In one of the letters, which he wrote at this period, he 
 gives the following account of a narrow escape which he 
 made from the bludgeon of a footpad : — 
 
 " Falkirk, \st December 1818. 
 
 " I was assisting at the Lord's Supper, at East Calder, on the 
 second Sabbath of November. Mr Primrose is a kind-hearted 
 man, and I was much pleased with the respectability of his con- 
 gregation. In going from East Calder to Slateford, on the Mon- 
 day evening, I made a narrow escape from being robbed, and was 
 indebted to the swiftness of my horse for my safety. It was a 
 very lonely place of the road ; and, as I have heard since, has 
 been the scene of assault before. I luckily noticed the footpad, 
 where he was skulking, and ere he could seize the bridle, or strike 
 me with his tremendous bludgeon, I sprung past ; and, though he 
 ran hard after me, my horse was so capital a one, that it soon put 
 me out of his reach. I rode the rest of the way in fear and 
 trembling, lamenting that Mr Primrose's kindness had kept me 
 till five o'clock ; but I got safe to my uncle's, at half-past six." 
 
 The following extracts are from letters addressed to the 
 Rev. Mr H. :— 
 
 " December 9. 1819. 
 
 " You would see in the papers the death of Mr James Bel- 
 
108 LETTERS. 
 
 frage announced. He was an amiable man, and the long afflic- 
 tion under which he laboured, had been blessed to him as a sea- 
 son of serious reflection. In his last hour, he expressed a firm 
 and blessed hope of salvation, and died with much tranquillity. 
 To his father and mother, the loss is peculiarly painful, as to them 
 he had been so uniformly kind and dutiful ; and the provision he 
 has made for them, is a proof how dear their comfort was to his 
 heart. 
 
 " You will see, in the Repository for this month, a memoir of 
 a very excellent young lad, a son of my neighbour at Linlithgow.* 
 It was drawn up by me, at the request of his father, and will, I 
 hope, be useful to young people. His affecting expressions, in his 
 illness, were taken down by Mr Watson ; and they show no com- 
 mon degree of faith and piety. I have heard, since the manu- 
 script was sent away, that your sermon, on the Sabbath evening, 
 at Portsburgh, last summer, was the last that he heard, and that 
 he felt deeply interested in it. He has now received the end of 
 his faith, even the salvation of his soul ; and may you and I, in 
 life and death, feel the supporting and animating influence of that 
 great principle, which can render every duty easy, and every af- 
 fliction light. 
 
 " You are happily removed from the tumults of the people. 
 At present, we are quiet here also ; and the weavers, who had no 
 work, are employed by the gentlemen in the neighbourhood. I 
 hope that the measures adopted by the Parliament will have a 
 good effect. Blasphemy and sedition are circulated to a dread- 
 ful extent ; and I find that Wooler s Black Dwarf is read by a 
 number of people here, and in the neighbourhood ; and his inso- 
 lent scurrility, and artful misrepresentations, must have the most 
 pernicious influence. I have seen no movement of the county of 
 Kinross to address the Prince. They will not surely remain an 
 exception, in the general movement of loyalty and patriotism. 
 
 " I finished to-day Mrs More's ' Moral Sketches.' It is an ex- 
 cellent book, and bears a faithful testimony against some of the 
 foibles of professors of religion, as well as against the dissipation 
 and impiety of many in the fashionable circles. She has laboured 
 long and ably in the cause of religion and virtue, and this is her 
 last effort." 
 
 * The Rev. Mr Watson. 
 
LETTERS. 109 
 
 " November 27. 1820. 
 
 " A very melancholy incident has occurred of late, with two 
 persons from this neighbourhood. A gentleman and lady were 
 married in October, last year, and went to London to spend the 
 winter. In the spring, they went to Italy, and left Rome, to re- 
 turn to Scotland, on the 26th of July, and died at Bologna on the 
 5th of August. They were insensible in fever, when they arrived 
 at the inn in that place, and died within an hour of each other, 
 and were buried in the same grave. An English gentleman, who 
 had halted at the inn a month after, has communicated the intel- 
 ligence to their friends here, and their effects have been sealed up 
 by order of the government, till intelligence was received from 
 their friends. The lady was within a few weeks of being a mo- 
 ther ; the gentleman was the only surviving son of his family, and 
 the possessor of a very handsome property in this town and neigh- 
 bourhood. This affecting incident has made a deep impression 
 here. Such things are painted in tales of fancy ; but I recollect 
 nothing like it in real life. It shows us the vanity of all earthly 
 expectations, and the sad uncertainty of all the happiness of this 
 passing scene. * * * * 
 
 " I have scarcely left myself room to mention, that I have 
 been busy, for a year past, with a new volume of Addresses. 
 They are to be forty in number, and six sermons are interspersed. 
 I have taken more pains with the composition than with the first 
 volume. They are more didactic ; but still, I hope, sufficiently 
 devotional to interest a religious heart. If there be any profits, 
 I mean to devote them to two or three ministers, whose families 
 are large, and whose stipends are small. This is a charity that 
 lies near my heart, and is not chargeable with ostentation, as a 
 donation of them to a pubUc society would be. The book goes 
 to press in January." 
 
 In the month of September 1820, an event took place, 
 which will long be memorable in the History of the Scot- 
 tish Churches ; namely, the re-union of the two leading 
 bodies of the Secession, after they had been in a state of se- 
 paration for a period of seventy-three years. When the pro- 
 ject of a re-union was first proposed, and when petitions were 
 poured in upon the two Synods, from the coiiiiregations on 
 
 H 
 
110 UNION OF THE SECESSION SYNODS. 
 
 both sides of the Secession, JNIr Belfrage was one of those who 
 thought that the proposal was premature ; and he wished 
 for delay, as he was afraid that the minds of neither party 
 were sufficiently prepared for taking such a decided step. 
 But, after the union was accomplished, his views underwent 
 a change, and he rejoiced in the event that had taken place, 
 as fitted to have a happy influence upon the interests of re- 
 ligion. In common vnth all those who were present in 
 Bristo Street Church, on the 8th of September, and wit- 
 nessed the solemn proceedings of that eventful day, he was 
 delighted with the spirit that animated the united assembly. 
 In one of his Meditations, he has recorded, in the following 
 terms, the delight which he experienced on that interesting 
 occasion : — " This year has been distinguished by the con- 
 summation of the union betwixt the two branches of the Se- 
 cession ; and blessed was I in witnessing a scene so solemn, 
 and yet so delightful, and marked by the spirit of devotion 
 and love. May that spirit ever rest on the United Church ! 
 May it be like a dew from the Lord, in all the districts of 
 our land, and be ever distinguished by pure principle, en- 
 lightened zeal, and liberal charity.'"* 
 
 In one of the extracts quoted above, Mr Belfrage refers 
 to a second volume of Addresses, which he was preparing. 
 This volume was published early in 1821 ; and the circum- 
 stance of the first volume being now in the third edition, 
 augured well for a favourable reception to the second. The 
 reputation which Mr Belfrage had already acquired as a de- 
 votional and a practical writer, was considerably increased by 
 this new publication. He had the satisfaction to know, that 
 his second volume of Addresses was prized by the religious 
 public, even more highly than the first. The following opi- 
 nion given of this new work, by one of the critics of the day, 
 in a religious periodical, may here be introduced with pro- 
 priety : — " This volume consists of no fewer than forty sacra- 
 mental addresses, with six sermons interspersed. What must 
 strike every reader, in the perusal of these addresses, is the 
 great skill which the author has displayed in giving variety 
 
PUBLISHES A SECOND VOLUME OF ADDRESSES. Ill 
 
 to his subjects. When we consider that Mr Belfrage had 
 already given to the world, in his first volume, sixty addresses, 
 and that the present vohime makes the total number amount 
 to one hundred, all of them relating to sacramental topics, 
 our readers wdll certainly agree wdth us in thinking, that it 
 must have required no small degree of ingenuity to give even 
 the appearance of variety to such a vast number of addresses. 
 This is a species of writing for which the structure of Mr 
 Belfrage's mind appears peculiarly to adapt him. If we may 
 judge of him from his productions, there is an ardour of feel- 
 ing, and a warmth of affection, combined with a considerable 
 degree of taste and imagination, which point him out as one 
 peculiarly well qualified for exciting devotional feeling in 
 those who may be engaged in commemorating their Saviour's 
 death. His language indicates a mind deeply imbued with 
 genuine piety, and proceeds apparently from a heart that is 
 itself powerfully aifected by the sentiments which it utters.'' 
 Soon after this, Mr Belfrage published a funeral discourse, 
 which he delivered in Queen Anne Street Church, Dunferm- 
 line, immediately after the death of the Reverend Dr Hus- 
 band, senior pastor of that congregation. Betwixt that ta- 
 lented individual, and the subject of this memoir, there had 
 existed a long and intimate friendship ; and it was in accord- 
 ance with the wish of the former, expressed during his life- 
 time, that the latter was requested, along with another inti- 
 mate friend, to improve his death, by preaching a funeral 
 sermon. This request was conveyed in the following letter, 
 which Mr Belfrage received, announcing the death of his 
 lamented friend. The letter was wi-itten by the Reverend 
 James Macfarlane, colleague and son-in-law of Dr Husband, 
 a person who united, in a high degree, vigour of intellect 
 with warmth of heart ; and who, by his amiable dispositions, 
 unaffected manners, and sterling integrity, secured for him- 
 self a high place in the affections of all who shared in his 
 friendship : — 
 
 H 2 
 
112 FUNERAL SERMON FOR REV. DR HUSBAND. 
 
 Dunfermline, \lth May 1821. 
 
 " My Very Dear Sir, — This day, precisely at 12 o'clock 
 noon, my dearest colleague drew his last breath. He died very 
 pleasant]}', without a struggle. It indeed could hardly be other- 
 wise ; for his distress had rendered him indescribably weak. To 
 me this is a sad bereavement ; the greatest (one excepted) that I 
 have met with in the course of my pilgrimage tlu-ough this weary 
 world. He was to me a firm and steady friend ; a wise and pru- 
 dent counsellor ; and a non-such colleague. Such habits of inti- 
 macy and friendship I never can form with another. All the 
 essential qualities of a colleague he possessed in great perfection* 
 Any thing mean, low, or dishonest, his soul abhorred : but I have 
 not time to enlarge, and indeed it is unnecessary to you who 
 knew him so well. 
 
 " The funeral is to take place on Tuesday first, at 1 o'clock 
 p. M., when it will gratify us all very much to see you here ; and 
 I must add, that, could you remain with us on the Sabbath fol- 
 lowing, and give us a sermon, it would complete the gratification. 
 Do not consider this as a mere word of course. It is most ear- 
 nestly desired by us all. Mr James Husband has just said to me, 
 that he recollects to have heard his father say, some time ago, 
 when talking on the subject of funeral sermons, that he knew no 
 man whom he would more wish to preach his funeral sermon 
 than Mr Henry Belfrage. I know this will have its own weight 
 with you. I have, indeed, just ^vritten Mr Greig of Lochgelly, to 
 preach with us on said day, but am uncertain whether he will 
 comply. It would please me much that you and he should be 
 colleagues on the occasion. 
 
 " I have many things to say to you ; but cannot now say 
 them. O let me have a share, a particular share, in your sym- 
 pathy and your prayers. I covet them. I need them. I believe 
 you will not deny them. ' O that we were wise, that we under- 
 stood tills, that we would consider our latter end.' All of us unite 
 in kind regards to you and all your sisters. Believe me, my dear 
 sir, yours most affectionately, 
 
 " James Macfarlane." 
 
 Mr Belfrage having complied with the request thus pre- 
 sented to him, received another communication from his 
 
FUNERAL SERMON PUBLISHED. 113 
 
 friend, requesting him, in name of the session of Queen Anne 
 Street, to pubhsh his discourse. 
 
 ''Dunfermline, 29th May 1821. 
 
 " My Dear Friend, — I hope you got safely home, and that 
 you have complacency in reflecting on the great exertions you 
 made to gratify your friends in Dunfermline. I have just time 
 to say, that our session, which met yesterday, were unanimous 
 and zealous in their desire that you should publish your sermon, 
 which you preached here, on Sabbath afternoon, with the cha- 
 racter of my dear colleague, which you gave, attached to it. 
 While it will highly gratify the vast multitude who heard it, I am 
 fully satisfied that it will do honour to yourself — both to your 
 head and to your heart. I am sure your judgement and your 
 feelings will not suffer you to refuse compliance with the above 
 desire, which, you may rest assured, proceeds from hearts deeply 
 interested in the subject of it. The sooner the sermon and cha- 
 racter appear, the better. You may order three hundred copies 
 to be sent to me, immediately upon its publication — Believe me, 
 my dear friend, yours affectionately, 
 
 " James M'Farlane." 
 
 This sermon was published under the title of " The 
 Feelings Excited by Departing Worth." The subject of it 
 is Elisha's exclamation, when he beheld Elijah ascending in 
 a whirlwind to heaven: 2 Kings, ii. 12; " And Elisha 
 saw it, and he cried, My father, my father ! the chariot of 
 Israel, &c." The language of Elisha is viewed as expressive 
 of strong attachment, fervid gratitude, deep regret, and sad 
 foreboding. An extract or two from this discourse, will be 
 gratifying to many of our readers, as portraying the excel- 
 lencies of him, whose memory it was intended to embalm. 
 
 " To the conduct of Elisha at his master's departure, how 
 similar, my brethren, were your feelings while you conveyed 
 the remains of your pastor to the grave ! Many of you 
 looked up to him with gratitude as the instructor of your 
 childhood, and the guide of your youth ; a considerable num- 
 ber of vou can, I trust, bless God that he was to you a 
 
114 HIS CHAKACTEll OF DK HUSBAND. 
 
 spiritual father ; and all of you revered him as an able and 
 faithful minister of the New Testament. 
 
 " In his settlement among you, in the days of his youth, 
 it was his earnest prayer to God, ' Give me now wisdom 
 and knowledge, that I may go in and out before this great 
 people ;' and the request was granted. Wisdom was a lead- 
 ing feature in his character ; not the low cunning and carnal 
 policy which has sometimes assumed its name, but the pru- 
 dence of moral sagacity and caution. While he fed you ac- 
 cording to the integrity of his heart, he guided you by the 
 skilfulness of his hands. Long and bright was his course 
 among you ; and he was regarded w^th increasing veneration 
 and confidence to its close. 
 
 " His intellectual faculties were of no common order. 
 His mind was acute and powerful, and enriched by regular 
 and liberal study. His discourses were always prepared with 
 care, and were marked by sublime conceptions of the divine 
 character and administration, — the elaborate defence and il- 
 lustration of the doctrines of grace, — an accurate knowledge 
 of the human heart, and of all the varieties of human cha- 
 racter, — ^the most consolatory views of the trials of the good, — 
 and by the earnest enforcement of every religious and moral 
 duty. As an expositor of Scripture, he was fai- removed 
 from all parade of critical skill, from that expansion and dif- 
 fuseness in which the proper design of lecturing is forgotten, 
 and from that flimsiness which leaves the passage almost un- 
 touched ; but was distinguished by a clear discernment of its 
 true sense, the vivid exhibition of its leading ideas, and by 
 the ingenuity and suitableness of his practical reflections. 
 His style was correct, perspicuous, and forcible ; and not 
 merely in the early periods of his ministry, but throughout 
 his life, the language of his discourses was characterized by 
 elegance and accuracy. The ornaments which he employed 
 were not the suggestion of an undisciplined fancy, w^hich dis- 
 gusts by its profusion and extravagance, but were selected 
 with such judgement, introduced with such propriety, and 
 
HIS CHARACTER OF DR HUSBAND. 115 
 
 managed so happily, that they never failed to strike or to 
 charm. There was such a dignity and grace in his manner 
 as a public speaker, that he was always listened to with re- 
 spectful attention. His addresses to the Deity were marked 
 by the solemnity and tenderness of devout feeling, and by a 
 variety and copiousness, which shov/ed the fertility of his 
 mind, and the extent of his Christian experience. In short, 
 there was a combination of excellencies in him as a preacher, 
 which are seldom found united, and which raised him to 
 high distinction as a Master in Israel. 
 
 " In his friendships he was ardent and steady. For .some 
 of the companions of his early studies, and whose days were 
 extended like his, he retained an attachment through life, 
 and delighted to recal the pursuits of youthful genius, and the 
 sweet counsels of early piety. For the friends of whom he 
 was deprived by death, he retained a tender recollection, and 
 felt the kindest interest in their families, by whom he was 
 regarded vrith- veneration and love, as their own and their 
 father's friend. Sacred is that friendship which is hallowed 
 by the memory of the dead ; and doubly dear is that pledge 
 of regard which is given and received for the sake of those 
 who are in the dust. It was his delight to trace in the 
 young a resemblance to departed worth. He felt a melan- 
 choly pleasure in speaking of the wise and good who were 
 gone ; and, with the eloquence which springs from the 
 heart, he exhibited their virtues as a tribute to their worth, 
 and as a pattern for imitation. 
 
 " The society of his friends was always delightful to him. 
 Such was his warmth of benevolent feeling, that in their com- 
 pany his spirits never flagged ; and so well acquainted was 
 he with the literature, and the leading characters and events 
 of the day, and so happy was his manner of communicating 
 what he knew, that he was listened to with unceasing in- 
 terest. He had such a delicacy of moral feeling, and such a 
 strong sense of what is becoming, that he never stepped be- 
 yond the limits of propriety ; and at the periods when his fa- 
 miliar friends saw him most at ease, they delighted in him 
 
116 HIS CHAKACTEK OF DR HUSBAND. 
 
 more, without veneratincr him less. He shrmik from no ex- 
 ertion or exercise which was requisite for their welfare, 
 entered with the kindest sympathy into all their sorrows, 
 and felt their happiness as his own. Never was his manner 
 haughty or obtrusive ; but there was in it a modesty and a 
 deference to others, which were truly amiable. He de- 
 lighted to foster every opening excellence, and laboured to 
 protect it from the censures of ignorance, prejudice, and envy. 
 His last act of public duty was introducing the son of a 
 A'alued friend to his charge. His sermon, on that occasion, 
 was in his usual style of excellence ; and the text of it, ' On 
 this rock will I build my church, and the gates of hell shall 
 never prevail against it,' is not only full of encouragement to 
 those who are engaging in the work of the Gospel, but is an 
 unfailing support to the heart amidst the removal of the 
 watchmen of Zion. 
 
 " In his family, he laboured with unwearied diligence to 
 promote wisdom and piety in all its members ; nor can his 
 children ever forget the solemn seasons, in w^hich he took 
 them, one by one, into his chamber ; endeavoured to excite 
 serious impressions in their minds ; pointed out the best ob- 
 jects of pursuit in life ; warned them against the snares to 
 which they might be exposed, and implored for them, while 
 they knelt by his side, the grace and the blessing of God. 
 Such was his modesty, that he seldom spoke of his religious 
 feelings ; but there were seasons in which, from the fulness 
 of his heart, he revealed his strong impressions of Divine 
 things. In the retirement of the closet, he was much with 
 God, and his studies were guided and blessed by the power 
 of devotion.'' 
 
 Mr Belfrage, in addition to his other labours, as a minister 
 and an author, became a contributor, about this period, to the 
 Evangelical Magazine ; and he continued, during the re- 
 maining part of his life, to be a steady friend to that useful 
 work. He was led to form this connection with it, from 
 the urgent representations of his warm-hearted friend Dr 
 Waugh, and also from the consideration, that many widows 
 
COXTRIBUTIONS TO EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE. 117 
 
 of Scottish dissenting ministers received liberal aid from its 
 fmids. 
 
 The following extract is from a letter, which Dr Waugh 
 addressed to him on this subject. It is dated London, 5th 
 July 1822. After an apology for not having taken earlier 
 notice of Mr Belfrage's last work, the writer thus proceeds, 
 in a playful style : — " Now, my good fellow, let me urge on 
 your mind, what I have repeatedly urged, that you give me 
 just two hours of your time, for turning the sappy end of one 
 of your most practical sermons into the form of an essay for 
 the Magazine. I send your widows L. 100 a year, and I 
 might as well try to move Cheviot or the Bass, as arouse 
 your torpid mind. If you wanted either talent or time, there 
 would be some excuse ; but, in your individual case, we know 
 you want neither. Will you constrain me, then, to my 
 strange w^ork, to suspect that you want heart. This is the 
 last thing Til do. Indeed, it is like transubstantiation — it 
 icill not believe for me. I have just come home from War- 
 wick, Sheffield, and Hull — 450 miles. Fain, fain would I have 
 gone north, by Scarborough, Whitby, and Alnwick Castle, 
 to the matchless classic vale of Tweed, the land of my fathers' 
 sepulchres, and scenes of my youth, endeared by a thousand 
 tender associations. But — but I could procure supply only 
 for two Sabbaths." 
 
 In 1822, ^Ir Belfrage favoured the world with another 
 production from his pen. It was a small volume, entitled, 
 " Sketches of Life and Character, from Scripture and from 
 Observation .'' This little volume possesses the same elegance 
 of style, and breathes the same aifectionate and pious spirit, 
 which characterize his other works. " The Scriptural pieces 
 contain faithful illustrations of the sacred narratives ; and, in 
 the other Sketches, the reader is presented with real incidents, 
 and the lessons which they enforce.'"' " The characters are 
 taken from various scenes, to show that religion can adorn 
 every age, and bless every condition ; and that, in every 
 sphere, the hope of impunity in sin is vain, and that its 
 wages are shame, miser v, and death.'' 
 
118 I'UBLISHES SKETCHES OF LIFE AND CHARACTEK. 
 
 The following letter, addressed to the Rev. Mr Macfarlane 
 of Dunfermline, accompanied a cojdj of his " Sketches :"" — 
 
 " Falkirk, '20th August 1822. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — Along with this, I send you a copy of a 
 little work of mine, which — as a record of some whom 3^011 es- 
 teemed — v/ill be read by you with interest. 
 
 " I was much disappointed in not seeing you, when you were 
 at Doune. The Lord has been working deliverance for you, to 
 the great joy of all that love you ; and I hope you have years of 
 comfort and usefulness before you, in the land of the living. It 
 will not be convenient for me to be in Dunfermline this season, 
 as I was in Edinburgh last week, and go to Glasgow in the end 
 of this week, to preach for Dr Dick. 
 
 " I met with an instance of the preserving care of Heaven, in 
 returning from Edinburgh. In leaping into the boat, my foot 
 slipped, and I fell into the canal. I held by the side of the boat, 
 till I was drawn into it. One of my legs is a little hurt, and I 
 had to sit with my wet clothes till I came home ; but I have suf- 
 fered no serious injury. 
 
 " I shall be glad to hear from you soon, and that you write me 
 by post. I am anxious to hear how you are, since your return. If 
 any thing occurs to you, in reading the Memoirs of Mr Gilfillan, 
 or Mrs Fletcher, which I may have omitted, I Mill take it kind if 
 you will mention it, as it may be useful, in case of a second edi- 
 tion. Remember me, in the kindest manner, to your dear young 
 people, and to Mr Husband ; — and, with best wishes, I am, my 
 deal- sir, yours affectionately." 
 
 To this letter, Mv Belfrage received from his friend the 
 following reply : — 
 
 " Dunfermline, 28th August 1822. 
 
 " My Dear Friend, — I have received your very acceptable 
 favour of the 20th current, along with your recent publication, 
 namely, " Sketches of I^ife and Character." I have perused it with 
 much interest and pleasure. Some of the individuals you charac- 
 terize in this little volume were my particular friends, for whom I 
 entertained the most cordial regard. The character you have given 
 of them is remarkably just and appropriate. You knew them 
 thoroughly, and have represented them truly. Hie only remark 
 
REV. JAMES MACFARLANE. 119 
 
 that has occurred to me, in the perusal, is one which you will 
 consider as trivial. In characterizing Mrs Fletcher, I could have 
 wished that you had devoted a page or two to the character of 
 lier worthy husband *, whom I esteemed as one of the most up- 
 right and honest of mankind, with whom I was ever acquainted. 
 You do indeed make mention of him with honour ; but my mean- 
 ing is, I could have wished you to have said something more of 
 him. But this, perhaps, was not consistent with the object you 
 had contemplated. Receive my best thanks for this other fruit of 
 your industry, and of your regard for the welfare of your fellow- 
 men. But let not this publication form an apology for your not 
 favouring the public with a handsome octavo volume of your 
 valuable discourses. I am persuaded that they might do much 
 good, and would add to your reputation as an author. 
 
 " I promised myself much enjoyment in the visit you pro- 
 posed to Dunfermline, and feel a good deal disappointed in your 
 having resolved not to realize it. In my present enfeebled state, 
 it would have been a peculiarly welcome visit. Though I am 
 much better than I was at one period, still I am far from being 
 well ; and indeed, my dear friend, it is very doubtful whether I 
 ever shall be well, till I arrive at that glorious world, where the 
 * wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest.' 
 If it be my happiness to reach that blessed place, I will completely 
 forget all the disagreeables in my afflicted pilgrimage. Blessed 
 state ! When shall I attain thy lovely innocence ! When shall 
 I enter thy divine rest ! When shall I arrive at thy security — 
 thy pleasure ! Forgive this personal aspiration. 
 
 " Your step into the boat on the canal was a dangerous one. 
 
 The person here referred to, is the Rev. William Fletcher, who, for a 
 period of forty-three years was minister of the Associate congregation of Bridge 
 of Teith. The compiler of this portion of the memoir was associated with him 
 for some time in the work of the ministry, and he never knew an individual to 
 whom the description given by Christ of Nathanael, was more applicable : — 
 " Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile !" He was a man of great 
 simplicity of character, of uncompromising rectitude, and of unaffected piety. 
 He did justly, loved mercy, and walked humbly with his God. In the begin- 
 ning of April 1815, he went to Stirling, when he was upward of fourscore 
 years of age, to attend a quarterly meeting of the committee of the Bible So- 
 ciety, was seized with fever, and, after a short illness, expired in a friend's 
 house in that town. 
 
ISO KEV. JAMES MACFARLAXE. 
 
 Thanks to the Preserver of Men, that it has been attended with 
 no bad effects. May you be long preserved for a comfort to your 
 friends, and for being useful in God's Zion. Mr James Husband, 
 who has just been here, and all my young people, unite with me 
 in kind regards to you and all your sisters. Believe me, my dear 
 friend, yours affectionately, James Macfarlane." 
 
 This excellent individual died a few months after writing 
 the above letter ; and Mr Belfrage wrote an account of his 
 life and character, which was inserted in the Christian Mo- 
 nitor. With the view of preparing this biographical notice, 
 he wrote the letter which follows. It is addressed to Mr 
 James Husband, Dunfermline. 
 
 " Falkirk, 5th May 1823. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I have been urged by some friends to write 
 a memoir of Mr Macfarlane, for the magazine. I had some con- 
 versation with Mr Brown on the subject last week, and promised 
 to him to do it. Before I go far in it, I wish to know if Mr Greig, 
 or any other person, at the request of the relations, is engaged in 
 drawing up any thing of the kind. If this is the case, I will on 
 no account interfere with them. Write me in the course of this 
 week if I may proceed. 
 
 " With Mr Macfarlane's character and history I am wxll ac- 
 quainted ; but if you recollect any incidents fit for the public eye, 
 or any of his striking remarks on any subjects, especially of a 
 religious cast, to which I must be a stranger, I beg that you will 
 mention them in your letter. Mention whether he was born in 
 the village of Doune, or in its neiglibourhood ; the date of his 
 ordination at Dunfermline, and his first text after his ordination. 
 Mention also any sermons of his which were peculiarly noted for 
 the impression which they made, and any happy results of his 
 labours which have come to your knowledge. Mention any thing, 
 also, which you wish to render the memoir of so amiable a man 
 as interesting as possible. 
 
 " I was present at the formation of the Society for Ministers' 
 Families, on Wednesday night. The meeting was respectable. 
 I have consented to preach the first sermon for the benefit of the 
 society, next week, at Glasgow. The time is short, but the re- 
 quest was so urgent, and the cause so near my heart, that I could 
 
PUBLISHES MONITOR TO FAMILIES. 1^1 
 
 not persist in declining the service. I hope that the society will 
 flourish, and will be a blessing to a most deserving and helpless 
 class, generally speaking, in society. 
 
 " Would you mention what were the subjects on which Mr 
 Greig preached after the funeral of our lamented friend. Re- 
 member me kindly to your partner ; also to the dear orphans, 
 whom I shall always love, for their father's sake. With best 
 wishes for your welfare, and that of your family and friends, I 
 am, &c." 
 
 During the year 1823, Mr Belfrage published his " Mo- 
 nitor to Families, or Discourses on some of the Duties and 
 Scenes of Domestic Life." This publication was designed 
 by liim to promote religion in the domestic circle ; and it 
 was eminently calculated, both from the excellence of its 
 contents, and from the affectionate earnestness of the style, to 
 produce this effect. Christian principle and benevolent feel- 
 ing appear harmoniously blended throughout the volume. 
 
 The same year he published, for the benefit of the young, 
 " A Guide to the Lord's Table, in the catechetical form ;" 
 and he added to it, an Address to applicants for admission, 
 and some meditations to aid their devotions. When the ex- 
 tent of Mr Belfrage''s congregation is taken into the account, 
 and when we consider the scrupulous punctuality with which 
 he attended to all the ministerial duties of visiting and cate- 
 chising, it may appear surprising that he should have found 
 time to prepare and publish, in such a rapid succession, so 
 many useful works, suited to all classes of Christians. It 
 shows us what can be accomplished by diligence and per- 
 severance, and a proper husbanding of time. 
 
 The celebrity which Mr Belfrage had now acquired, as a 
 religious writer, and the high reputation which he main- 
 tained, as a faithful and laborious minister of the Gospel, 
 procured for him the friendship and respect of some who oc- 
 cupied situations of eminence in the Established Church. 
 Among the number of these was Sir Henry Moncreiff Well- 
 wood, Bart., D. D., one of the ministers of the West 
 Church, Edinburdi. Throuo^h the aorencv of this eminent 
 
122 RECEIVES DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF DIVINITY. 
 
 clergyman, the attention of the University of St Andrew's 
 was drawTi to ISIr Belfrage's writings, and to the claims 
 which he had, both as a minister and an author, to academic 
 honours ; and that University honoured themselves, as well 
 as did honour to ^Ir Belfrage, by conferring on him the 
 degree of Doctor in Divinity. The manner in which this 
 degree was conferred, was creditable to all the parties con- 
 cerned. On the part of Mr Belfrage, it was unsolicited and 
 unexpected. On the part of the University, it formed a re- 
 markable exception to the general rule which it follows in 
 conferring honorary titles, which is, to bestow them exclu- 
 sively (or nearly so) on ministers belonging to the Esta- 
 blishment. In the present instance, its highest literary 
 honours were conferred upon a Dissenter — they were con- 
 ferred unanimously ; and, to the credit of the University be 
 it recorded, they were bestowed without the usual fees being 
 exacted. The conduct of Sir Henry Moncreiff in this trans- 
 action, was marked by the greatest kindness and liberality. 
 In soliciting and obtaining from the University of St An- 
 drew's the degree of D.D. for Mr Belfrage, he gave a most 
 gratifying proof of his personal regard for him, and showed 
 a laudable desire to reward professional merit, — even though 
 found in a Dissenter. On receiving notice that he had been 
 successful in his application to the University, he conveyed 
 the intelligence to Mr Belfrage in the folloN^dng friendly let- 
 ter: — 
 
 " Edinburgh, &th March, 1824. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I am happy to tell you that I have suc- 
 ceeded in my application. The University of St Andrew's have, 
 in the handsomest possible way, conferred on you the degree of 
 D. D. Principal Nicol was with me on Friday, and delivered to 
 me your diploma. I have no means of sending it to you, without 
 running some risk of destroying it, as it is written on veUum, 
 and cannot be inclosed in a letter. In the way in which I have 
 obtained it, no dues are exacted : it does not cost a single far- 
 thing. I would wish it were in your power to be in Edinburgli 
 for a single day this week, not only that I may deliver the 
 
LONDON MISSIONARY SOCIETY. 123 
 
 diploma into your own hands, but that I may settle with yourself 
 in what way your degree should be inserted in the newspapers. 
 The University have left it to me to mention it in any form I 
 please. I shall be at home, for aught I know, the whole week. 
 I am, my dear sir, yours faitlifully, 
 
 " H. MONCREIFF WeLLWOOD." 
 
 Never was this honour conferred on an individual more 
 deserving of it, or one better fitted, by his varied attainments, 
 for sustaining the dignity w^hicli the title confers. Theolo- 
 gical knowledge, sound scholarship, and ministerial gravity, 
 were possessed by him in a high degree. His conduct, both 
 in public and in private, was uniformly such as to add a 
 lustre to the title which he w^ore. The honour which the 
 University of St Andrew''s conferred upon him, was received 
 by him with grateful feelings ; and it tended to stimulate 
 him to greater diligence in study, and to more active exer- 
 tions in labouring for the good of his fellow-men. 
 
 The Directors of the London Missionary Society invited 
 him to preach one of the sermons, at the Anniversary Meet- 
 ing in May 1825, and with this invitation he cheerfully com- 
 plied. In the prosperity of that Society, he felt much in- 
 terested, and he was willing to do all that he could to pro- 
 mote its success. He considered that it had a strong claim 
 upon the support of all denominations of Christians, on ac- 
 count of its extensive and benevolent labours in propagating 
 the knowledge of the Gospel among the heathen. Besides, 
 he entertained a high idea of the piety and zeal of those ex- 
 cellent men, with whom this institution had originated, and 
 some of whom had now grown grey in the management of 
 its affairs. Among the number of these honoured individuals, 
 was his friend Dr Waugh, who had frequently undertaken 
 long and toilsome journeys, to plead the cause of the Society, 
 and wiio had spent a great portion of his time and strength 
 in its service. 
 
 On this occasion, Dr Waugh wrote two letters to his 
 friend in Falkirk, previous to his leaving home, not only to 
 welcome him to London, but to invite him to become a mem- 
 
12^ LETTERS FROM DR WAUGH. 
 
 ber of his household, during his stay in the metropoUs. Both 
 of these letters we here insert : they are fine specimens of 
 that warmth of affection, that exuberance of fancy, and that 
 playfulness of disposition, which characterized this venerable 
 man, even at an advanced period of life. 
 
 " London, loth March 1825. 
 
 " My Dear Harry, — A cordial welcome to London ! Thou- 
 sands that have never seen your face, will m elcome you. May 
 the Lord, the Spirit, send you in the fulness of the blessing of 
 the Gospel of peace and love ! 
 
 " As I know you will be piid «' to bits* when you arrive, I 
 think it very provident and wise in me to bespeak your services 
 on one Sabbath, at least ; and, when I tell you the reason, I think 
 you will readily accede to my wishes. I am provisionally en- 
 gaged to preach a sermon, on the 22d of May, at Lewis, in Sus- 
 sex ; and the provision, I have told the people, is expressly to 
 hinge on your taking my pulpit that day. It is for the Irish 
 Evangelical Society. As you will be, on your arrival, encom- 
 passed like bees round the girdle — No ! that figure won't do — I'll 
 mend it, — It shall be, that they will cling to j'^ou like bees to the 
 rose-bud, — so I think it will be wise in you not to entangle your- 
 self, except, as it is hereby excepted, with me, for May 22d, till 
 we see you. I hope you will get a journey to Bath, and, may be, 
 to Bristol too. Have six weeks' or two months' provision for 
 your pulpit, safely secured, before you come away. Two months 
 it must be, at the very least — mind that. 
 
 " My health has been in a very precarious state for a long 
 time ; but I look forward to its improvement, when the time of 
 the singing of birds shall be come, and the voice of the turtle be 
 heard in the grove. Except once, I have tried to hobble through 
 upon Sabbaths, as well as I could, once a day at least, for several 
 
 months past. To good Mr N , my obligations are deep, and 
 
 they have been conferred in a fashion that greatly augments the 
 obligation. 
 
 " Now, my dear Harry, good night. Love to your dear sis- 
 ters, and to the good lady at Grangemouth, whose kindness to 
 the suffering Moravians at the Cape, in their printed report, I 
 read with delight. Ever and affectionately yours." 
 * Pulled to pieces. 
 
LETTER FROA[ DR WAUGH. 125 
 
 " London, 13th April 1825. 
 
 " My Dear Harry, — Though I am convinced that your 
 knowledge of the state of our hearts toward you, makes an invi- 
 tation to you, to make this house your home, unnecessary ; yet 
 your exalted opinion of the breeding of the London Doctors in 
 Divinity may induce you to expect such an invitation : therefore 
 I send this, earnestly, affectionately, and with the authoritative 
 tone which my attachment to your worth authorizes me to as- 
 sume, to invite you to our humble habitation, the most com- 
 fortable bed in the house, and the warmest neuk * in our heart. 
 We are all in high spirits at the prospect of your good com- 
 pany and companionable qualities, with the grateful feelings which 
 your kindness to our young folks, in their state of vagrancy over 
 the mosses, and muirs, and grey stones of our beloved country, 
 has awakened in our bosoms. These have made us forget the 
 ceremonial of life, and to indulge in a playful vein, rather at 
 variance with the accustomed tone of our family feeling. But I 
 am writing to i/oit, and you will find an apology in your own 
 good heart. 
 
 " Love to your dear sisters, and to the good Mrs W., in which 
 Mrs Waugh, the girls, and the Highland wanderer, most cordially 
 unite. I ever remain, as you well know, my dear Doctor, your 
 most affectionate friend and brother." 
 
 " P. S I wished you to preach to the genteelest of our con- 
 gregations in Surrey Chapel, or to the most enlightened in the 
 west end of the town, to wit, in Tottenham Court Road ; but the 
 good sense of Matthew Wilks, and others, think you should 
 shed light on the dark minds of the folks in the Tabernacle, on 
 Wednesday evening ; think not yourself degraded, for Dr Love 
 and myself were doomed to illumine that dark abode." 
 
 We give an extract from the letter which Dr Belfrage 
 wrote in reply to the above : — 
 
 " Falkirk, 2Sd April 1825. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I was favoured with both your letters in 
 course. I had an invitation from the Miss Patisons, my cousins, 
 
 * Corner. 
 
 I 
 
126 LETTER TO DR WAUGH. 
 
 to reside with tliem while I was in London ; but I feel that I will 
 be so much at home in your family, that I must say frankly, that 
 I will stay with you. If I follow out my plan, I will go to France, 
 after the fourth Sabbath of May. A very intimate friend of mine 
 has gone to France for his health, and has written to me that he 
 will be in Paris in May, and that he is most anxious to see me. 
 If I could fall in with a companion in London for the journey, I 
 would not hesitate about it. 
 
 " I have now arranged my supplies for my pulpit, and have 
 taken out my ticket for the James Watt Steam Packet, which 
 sails from Newhaven on the 27th of April. If the weather is 
 fair, we will be in London on Friday. I shall be very happy if 
 I reach you so early. You must not depend on me preaching for 
 you on the first Sabbath of May ; but I trust that I shall be able 
 to give you a sermon on the second. 
 
 " We dispensed the Lord's Supper, at Falkirk, last Sabbath. 
 Our usual day is the first Sabbath of June ; but, as I could not 
 well be at home at that time, we thought it best to have it thus 
 early. I defer all my other news till we meet. I felt, the last time 
 I was in London, that I was with you as with a father ; and I am 
 most grateful to God that I have the prospect of your counsels 
 and kindness to encourage and guide me." 
 
 Dr Belfrage reached" London, in safety, and received a 
 kind welcome from Dr Waugh, and his family. On Wed- 
 nesday, the 11th May, he preached in the Tabernacle to an 
 overflowing and attentive audience. The subject of his dis- 
 course was, Isa. ix. 6, one of the clauses of the verse ; " His 
 name shall be called the everlasting Father."" In his dis- 
 course he pleaded the cause of the perishing heathen, with 
 all the eloquence and zeal which such a sacred cause was 
 fitted to inspire. His appearance, on that occasion, was 
 highly creditable to himself, and was gratifying to not a few 
 who had hitherto been acquainted w^ith him only through 
 the medium of his writings. Some, who had been accus- 
 tomed to hear him in early life, felt their old recollections 
 delightfully revived by the sweet and musical tones of his 
 voice. 
 
SECOND VISIT TO LONDON. 1^7 
 
 A respectable minister, who then officiated in one of the 
 Scotch churches in London, and who had been accustomed, 
 in the days of his youth, to hear Dr Belfrage, on sacramental 
 occasions, sent him a letter, congratulating him on the man- 
 ner in which he had performed the service assigned him. 
 From this letter we give an extract : — 
 
 Upper Clapton, 12th May 1825. 
 
 " My Dear Doctor, — I congratulate you most heartily on 
 the very comfortable, and I have no doubt profitable manner, in 
 which you have rendered your eminently valuable services to our 
 society. In my youthful days, I used occasionally to be a hearer 
 of yours, especially on Sacramental occasions ; and although I 
 have not heard you preach for nearly twenty years, yet you had 
 scarcely begun your sermon last night, when your voice, your 
 manner, and your every thing, became quite familiar to me ; and 
 I know not when I have had so many delightful associations re- 
 vived in my mind, as I experienced last evening. It will afford 
 me much pleasure to see you here, and to enjoy as much of your 
 company as possible while you remain in town." 
 
 The attention which Dr Belfrage received from kind- 
 hearted friends, and also from many with whom he had not 
 previously been acquainted, rendered his second visit to Lon- 
 don no less agreeable than his first had been. It was a high 
 treat afforded to him, to be present at the anniversaries of 
 the great religious institutions of Britain. He there beheld 
 wealth, and rank, and learning, associated with religion, and 
 doing homage to her cause. He there beheld the prince and 
 the mechanic, the master and the servant, the churchman 
 and the dissenter, meeting together upon common ground, 
 casting their spontaneous offerings into the treasury of the 
 Lord, and endeavouring, by their united exertions, to fan in 
 one another's bosoms the flame of holy love. The different 
 scenes which he witnessed, in his visits from place to place, 
 afforded him the highest gratification. But we shall allow 
 him to express, in his own language, the feelings which he 
 experienced. A few of the letters which he wrote to his 
 sisters and brother, during his second sojourn in London, 
 
 I 2 
 
128 LETTEK TO HIS SISTERS. 
 
 have been preserved. These we now present to our 
 readers : — 
 
 To his sisters : — 
 
 " Salisbury Place, London, April SOth 1825. 
 
 " My Dear Sisters, — iis I know you are anxious about me, 
 I think it best to write to-day, and not to put it off till Monday. 
 We reached Blackwall yesterday, at five o'clock in the afternoon, 
 though the wind was against us the whole way. I am sure I will 
 astonish and delight you, when I say, that I had no sea-sickness. 
 The wind was fair, and the sea smooth, when we went on board. 
 We had not sailed far before the wind got to the east, and a 
 thick mist came on. I kept on deck ; there I sat, looking at the 
 mist scowling o'er the sea, and the dark waves breaking on our 
 ship, till near nine, when I went down to bed. The noise of the 
 paddles, and people coming to bed at all hours, kept me from sleep 
 for some time. Next day was bright with sunshine ; I sat upon 
 deck: a gentleman had Blackwood's Magazine, which I read. 
 In sailing up the river, I was struck with the verdure of the Eng- 
 lish fields, and the flourish of the gardens. The passengers were 
 only about fifty ; they were all strangers, but behaved with great 
 propriety. 
 
 " I reached Dr Waugh's at seven, and received from him and 
 his family a very kind welcome. My room looks into his gar- 
 den, and there is a fine church which closes the view. I met Mr 
 Ross, and a Mr Crosbie, the chaplain of the Refuge here, last 
 night : my sermon for it is fixed for the evening of the third 
 Sabbath of May. Mr Ross is to take me to the Earl of Rock- 
 savage, who has read my works, and wishes to see me. I have 
 agreed to preach for Dr Waugh to-morrow forenoon ; and he 
 and I go down to Mr Broadfoot's, who dispenses the Sacrament 
 to-morrow ; and we address one table each. Dr Waugh is feeble, 
 but his spirits revived last night. I got a letter this morning, 
 inviting me to attend and speak at a society on Thursday next. 
 I am to hear Mr Sumner (who got the second prize at Aberdeen) 
 preach for the Church Missionary Society on Monday evening. 
 Next week I shall hear all the speeches, at all the great societies. 
 I am quite well, and in good spirits ; I have seen so much of the 
 Divine goodness in my journey, that, like Paul, I thank God, 
 and am taking courage. Make yourselves as happy as you can ; 
 
LETTER TO HIS BROTHER WILLIAM. 129 
 
 I will collect every thing that will be new and entertaining for 
 you when I come home." 
 
 To his brother William : — 
 
 " London, May 6, 1825. 
 
 " My Dear William, — * * * * * * j j^^^^ ^oqqyi 
 at public meetings every day this week. On Monday I attended 
 the Wesleyan Missionary Society, and heard some good speeches ; 
 I had to travel five miles to the place, and sit for six hours. On 
 Tuesday I was at the Church Missionary Society : there I heard 
 Cunningham of Harrow, deliver a most excellent speech. He is 
 a most eloquent man ; and yesterday I was at the great meeting 
 of the British and Foreign Bible Society, where all that is most 
 respectable in London were convened. A number of the nobility 
 and dignified clergy were there. The spirit displayed was of the 
 noblest description. I was gratified above measure. An Ame- 
 rican minister, and one from Paris, and one from Persia, stated 
 the feelings with which, in their different countries, the institu- 
 tion was regarded ; and that they felt, and delighted to acknow- 
 ledge, the pre-eminence of Britain. I dined with a Mr M 
 
 after it, who gave me a number of books and a map, to prepare 
 me for my visit to France. To-day I dine with the Scottish 
 nobility and gentry, at their anniversary ; a ticket was sent me ; 
 they say it is a most interesting meeting. Lord Glenorchy is to 
 be in the chair. Sabbath next I am to hear Mr Townley, the ac- 
 complished young man that went out to India ; he is to preach 
 for Dr Waugh. I preach two charity sermons on the 15th of 
 May. On the 8th I am to meet with Brougham, &c. &c., at the 
 National School Society, when the Duke of Sussex is to be in the 
 chair." 
 
 To his sisters : — 
 
 London, 13th May 1825. 
 
 " My Dear Sisters, — I had the pleasure of your kind letter 
 yesterday. I begin my letter to you by telling you, that I got 
 through my sermon on Wednesday, as well as I could have 
 wished, and by saying how much I was delighted to hear from 
 my home. But I must give you my history from the date of my 
 letter to William. I went to the Scottish Corporation. A num- 
 ber of the Scotch nobility were there. I had to make two 
 
130 LETTER TO HIS SISTERS. 
 
 speeches, with which they were highly pleased. Sir W. M. took 
 down my address, as he wished to call on me. Next day I at- 
 tended the Jewish Society ; and there I was affected to a great 
 degree, when I saw fifty Jewish girls, and fifty boys, stand up 
 and sing hymns. It melted me into tears. A very fine address 
 was made to them by Basil Wood ; and Cunningham's speech 
 that day was the most eloquent I ever heard. He spoke thirty- 
 five minutes ; and with a graceful animation, a beauty of lan- 
 guage, and a sublime and tender piety, that was most delightful. 
 These meetings are most fatiguing, from the heat and the ex- 
 citement of the fine speeches ; and you must be there two hours 
 before they begin, to get a good seat. On Sabbath forenoon, I 
 heard Henry Townley preach in Dr Waugh's, for the Missionary 
 Society. He preached very well on the cure of the demoniac, 
 in the fifth chapter of Matthew. He told some affecting things 
 of India. Thirty-six pounds were collected. I preached for Mr 
 Broadfoot in the afternoon and in the evening, on " Come see 
 the place where the Lord lay." On Monday I attended the Bri- 
 tish and Foreign School Society, and heard a Greek speak, and 
 saw some Greek boys. I kept at home all Tuesday ; and, on 
 Wednesday forenoon, by Dr Waugh's advice, I did not go to hear 
 
 M . It was five miles off, and he said it would fatigue me ; I 
 
 should reserve myself for night. It seemed the will of Provi- 
 dence that I should preach in the Tabernacle, as my letter was 
 not delivered till Friday, when the arrangements had been pub- 
 lished. Mrs W. and the ladies went with me, and the Doctor 
 met me there ; and one of the ministers came in for me to con- 
 duct me to the pulpit. Nearly 4000 people were there. I never 
 saw such a crowd. I began to preach at a quarter past six ; and, 
 after preaching fifty minutes, I intermitted, and asked them to 
 sing a few lines. Dr Chalmers did this, and Irving; and Dr 
 Waugh thought it would be wise. I then resumed, and concluded 
 my sermon in forty minutes. My voice kept up wonderfully. I 
 understand I was heard distinctly in every corner. I did not 
 feel it so difficult as I feared. I came down the pulpit stair with 
 very lively gratitude. I received many fine compliments. A 
 great number of people had come to hear me, who had read my 
 works. A gentleman met me in the street next day. He was so 
 happy, he said, to hear one of his countrymen, and felt proud of 
 
LETTER TO HIS BROTHER WILLIAM. 131 
 
 being a Scotchman. I know this will gratify you. I have got a 
 very kind letter from Dr Manuel, requesting me to preach a 
 public sermon in his church. I have given up the idea of France, 
 since I got your letter, and will take some jaunts into places in 
 England in its stead. I have kept my health well. I had a slight 
 headach last night : it was owing to a seat of seven hours at the 
 missionary meeting. I made a speech, and heard a great deal of 
 eloquence. Mr Hankey, the chairman, a very pleasant gentle- 
 man, told me he recollected, when a boy at college, meeting with 
 two Belfrages. He was delighted to see me. He was boarded 
 in a Mrs Scott's. I remember him well. We dine with him to- 
 morrow. Now, my dear sisters, make yourselves happy. My 
 great labour is over, and all will now be little more than recrea- 
 tion. I cannot express the kindness of the family here. Dr 
 Waugh is quite a father. Mrs Waugh is a most excellent cha- 
 racter, and the ladies are most kind, cheerful, and pleasant. The 
 young men treat me as a brother. They are most polite, and 
 unwearied in their attentions to me." 
 
 To his brother William : — 
 
 Salisbury Place, 25th May 1825. 
 
 " My Dear William, — On my return from Brighton last 
 night I found your letter. It was most pleasant to me to hear 
 from three quarters so dear to me. It is an enhancement to all 
 the pleasures of England. I am very anxious about Sir Henry 
 Moncreiff, a man to whose friendship I have been so much in- 
 debted, and whose worth I value so much. You will write me 
 soon, and let me know how he is. I shall continue my journal 
 since my last. On the 15th of May, I preached a charity ser- 
 mon for a school, and collected L. 17. In the evening I preached 
 for the Refuge, and collected L.33. We had a very pleasant 
 meeting in the city of London Tavern, at a dinner given by our 
 chairman, on the 14th; and, on Monday, I dined with the trus- 
 tees of the Evangelical Magazine ; and they have requested me 
 to be one of their number. It will put it in my power to serve 
 the widow and the fatherless. On Tuesday, the 17th, I heard 
 Mr Irving preach. Though it was a week-day, and the forenoon, 
 and the chapel could contain 2000, it was crowded with a genteel 
 congregation. I was agreeably disappointed both as to matter 
 
132 LETTER TO HIS BllOTHER WILLIAM. 
 
 and manner. There was little extravagance. The sermon Was 
 solid and powerful ; and, excei^t that his manner was rather too 
 theatrical for me, it was that of a first-rate orator. He kept the 
 people in rapt attention for two hours. That afternoon I dined 
 at a beautiful place near Greenwich, in Mr Hardcastle's. I heard 
 the cuckoo there, and the nightingale in the garden, before we 
 came away. On Saturday, as Dr Waugh was poorly, I went 
 down to Lewis, which is fifty-one miles from London, and 
 preached there on Sabbath, for the Irish Evangelical Society. 
 We collected L. 20, though the chapel was small. I lodged with 
 one of the best families in the place, a widow lady, and her two 
 daughters, whose son is one of the principal bankers in the town. 
 In Scotland, rank and wealth are too often associated with in- 
 difference to religion, but in England it is otherwise. In these 
 ladies, I saw the most elegant manners, in union with mild, en- 
 lightened piety. On Monday, I went with them, and some of 
 their friends, to a place nine miles off, and preached to some 
 schools, and had a most pleasant ride ; saw ripe cherries in the 
 open air : gooseberry bushes like trees ; their growth is made to 
 rise, not to spread. I saw the treadmill, and a number of cul- 
 prits on it. It is not so severe exercise as I thought. It is con- 
 stant, but the motion of the wheels is not rapid. These ladies 
 were most polite in taking me to all the fine places about their 
 town and neighbourhood. A fine boy went with me to Brighton. 
 It is nine miles from Lewis. There is a chain-pier there, which 
 is more splendid than the Leith one. The Pavilion makes no 
 show, as it is low, and consists of a great number of little turrets, 
 like a Turkish mosque. I left Brighton at twelve, and got to 
 Dr Waugh's at seven. The Brighton coaches di'ive most beauti- 
 fully, and the country is like Bothkennar Carse, the whole way. 
 On Sabbath I have three sermons to preach, and two of them 
 charity ones ; but I am in great good health, and the politeness 
 and civility of the people are delightful." 
 
 To his sisters : — 
 
 Salisbury Place, June 4, 1825. 
 
 My Dear Sisters, — I this morning received your kind letter, 
 and was much gratified by it. It is most delightful to me to hear 
 that you are all well, and that the garden is looking so beautiful. 
 
LETTER TG HIS SISTERS. 133 
 
 Dr Waugli's toast is, " The lassies and the shrubs." The death 
 of Miss Campbell struck me very much. I trust she is gone to 
 heaven. I did not go to Oxford this week, that I might not miss 
 the meeting of the children at St Paul's, which was the most sub- 
 lime scene I ever saw. But to give you my journal : — On Fri- 
 day, I went and saw Westminster Abbey ; I then went with Dr 
 Waugh's family, to dine at a beautiful place three miles from 
 
 London, in a Mr H 's family, where the party was very 
 
 happy. I amused them with Scottish stories. On Sabbath, I 
 
 went out to W , and preached for the Scottish Missionary 
 
 Society, and collected L. 23. In the afternoon, I preached for 
 Mr Burder, at Hackney ; it was the genteelest audience I have 
 seen in London. In the evening, I preached, in another chapel 
 there, a sermon for young people : a lady who patronizes the 
 school was present: we collected L. 12. I got home to my 
 kind friends a little before ten. Monday, I went and saw the 
 Exhibition of Pictures : there are many fine Scripture pieces. 
 In the evening, I went to the House of Commons : there was 
 nothing very interesting. On Wednesday, I went ten miles off, 
 
 to a Bible Society, and saw the garden of Lady R : the 
 
 rodo-dendrons are more than twelve feet high. I saw some very 
 fine American plants. On Thursday, I went to St Paul's : the 
 doors were opened at ten, and we had to be there a little past nine. 
 The service began at twelve, by the children singing the lOOdth 
 Psalm. Ten thousand children were present, who were placed 
 in seats that rose above one another. The sound of their voices 
 was grand and awful, accompanied by the pealing organ. An im- 
 mense crowd was there. An Irish Bishop preached, but I could 
 not hear him well ; not one in twenty could hear, — the place is so 
 large, and the bustle of such a multitude so great. He preached 
 an hour and a quarter. On Sunday, I preached at Albion Chapel, 
 in the forenoon : the audience was respectable. It is a very beau- 
 tiful chapel. Dr Manuel's church was opened yesterday, after 
 its repairs. Dr Macgill preached in the forenoon, Mr Irving in 
 the afternoon, and I preached in the evening ; these clergymen 
 were all hearing me, and from them I received very polite thanks 
 for my sermon. Mr Irving wished me very much to come and 
 
 see him, but this will not be in my power. Mr C , a most 
 
 respectable minister, was there : he told me he came to hear the 
 
134 LETTER TO HIS SISTERS. 
 
 author of works which he had read with delight. He spoke of 
 my Sacramental Meditations as in extensive use among his people, 
 and the congregations of his two sons ; mentioned with much 
 feeling my Memoir of my Father, and expressed his wish that I 
 might proceed in a course so honourable and useful. I preached 
 last night on the Song of the Redeemed. I go to Oxford to- 
 morrow. I will leave London on the 15th of June, by the steam- 
 boat, get to Edinburgh on Friday, and home, I trust, on Satur- 
 day forenoon, with the mail, to my dear sisters, and my dear 
 Rosepark." 
 
185 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CONTINUATION OF HIS CORRESPONDENCE, AND AN 
 ACCOUNT OF HIS MINISTRY. 
 
 Extracts from his Letters. Publishes " Discourses to the Aged." Letter 
 from Rev. Dr Dick. Remarks on Authors. Pollok, the Poet. 
 Death of Dr Waugh. Funeral Discourse for Dr Waugh. Letter 
 from Rev. George Burder. His Marriage. Publishes " Counsels 
 for the Sanctuary," &c. Letter from America. Visits St Andrew's. 
 Memoir of Dr Waugh. Publishes "A Portrait of John the 
 Baptist." His industry as an Author. Publishes "A Practical 
 Exposition of the Shorter Catechism." Letter from a Mmister in 
 England. Letter to the Editor of the Evangelical Magazine. His 
 labours as a Minister. Ministerial Visitation. Diets of Examina- 
 tion. Attention to the Young. Ministerial Success. Death-bed 
 scenes. Attendance upon Church Courts. 
 
 Dr Belfrage left his kind friends in London with regret. 
 Though he returned to the scene of his accustomed labour 
 with a heart as devoted as ever to his people and to his 
 work, yet some of the letters which he wrote after his re- 
 turn, show that his affections lingered around the circle 
 which he had left behind him in the metropolis. The so- 
 ciety with which he mingled, during his temporary sojourn 
 in the south, combined in it the charms of religion with the 
 polish of refinement ; and, to a pious and cultivated mind, 
 such as his was, it possessed peculiar fascinations. In such 
 society he delighted to mingle ; it accorded well with his 
 feelings and habits. 
 
136 EXTRACTS FROM HIS LETTERS. 
 
 Writing to a friend, soon after his return, he says : — 
 " I stood on the deck, watching your little boat, till I saw it 
 reach the shore, and you had passed from my view. I felt very 
 sad and lonely after you went away. My spirits were much de- 
 pressed in parting with my friends in London ; and had it not 
 been for your kind and solacing society, the voyage would have 
 been very gloomy. My heart revived when we came in sight of 
 Edinburgh, and I reached my brother's house before eight that 
 evening. I left Edinburgh at eight on Saturday, and reached 
 home at eleven. I was very anxious about my Sabbath duties, 
 as my time for preparation was short, and as I felt fatigued by 
 my journey ; but God disappointed my fears, and I got through 
 with comfort. The delight of my good people at my return is 
 very gratifying to me, and will, I hope, animate my future exer- 
 tions to promote their salvation. 
 
 " Your father's image is almost constantly before my heart, 
 and I must ever regard him as the dearest of my friends. Never 
 shall I forget, to my latest hour, the affectionate hospitality of 
 your father's house, and mj^ delightful intercourse with the kindest 
 and the best of human beings. The obligation, my excellent 
 friend, is all on my side ; and the Almighty knows the sincerity 
 and the strength of my gratitude, and the fervour of my wishes, 
 that you and yours may be happy, ever happy." 
 
 In a letter addressed to Dr Waugh, acknowledging the 
 receipt of a donation from the Trustees of the Evangelical 
 Magazine, to a widow of a dissenting minister, he says : — 
 
 " The prayers and the blessings of the widow and the father- 
 less are upon you. T must also say, that the prayers and bless- 
 ings of your friend, Harry, are upon you from day to day ; for 
 never can I think of London, but my heart pours out its best 
 wishes for you and yours. I am delighted to think that Harrow- 
 gate has done you so much good, and I trust that God will 
 strengthen what he has wrought for you." 
 
 Writing to the same, he says : — 
 
 " Such is my respect and affection for j^ou, that nothing de- 
 lights me more than to hear from you. I trust, that by this time 
 
PUBLISHES DISCOURSES FOR THE AGED. 1 3T 
 
 your complaint has gone off, and that the God who has often re- 
 stored your vigour, will continue to deal with you according to 
 his mercy. I was much affected by the death of Dr Bogue. My 
 intercourse with him, in London, impressed me with a very high 
 idea of the manliness of his character, the vigour of his mind, his 
 public spirit, his active habits, and the friendly dispositions of 
 his heart. What an enviable death was his ! How many hearts 
 sighed, ' My father ! My father !' as he went to heaven ; and his 
 memory will be blessed by thousands yet unborn." 
 
 During the year 1826, Dr Belfrage preached and pub- 
 lished a series of discourses " On the Duties and Consola- 
 tions of the Aged." " That work,'"* says the pious author in 
 one of his Meditations, " I would lay at the foot of my Re- 
 deemer. O, bless it for giving light and peace to many in 
 the evening of life, and make the feeble and the helpless to 
 sing for joy I'' " If, by these discourses (he adds), God shall 
 be pleased to brighten to any old man the evening of life, to 
 make him more useful in his narrowing circle, more amiable 
 to those whose esteem and respect are of so much importance 
 to his comforts, more detached from the world, in spite of in- 
 creasing efforts to strengthen its cords, and more fit for eter- 
 nity, into which he is about to enter, — he will rejoice in the 
 kindness of that mercy which blesses the humblest efforts of 
 the willing mind for his people's good." 
 
 This volume sustained the well-merited reputation which 
 the author had already acquired as a religious writer. Soon 
 after the publication of it, he received a letter from the Rev. 
 Dr Dick, of Glasgow, Professor of Theology to the United 
 Secession Church, expressing, in very flattering terms, the 
 high opinion which he entertained of its excellence. The 
 following is an extract : — 
 
 " Glasgow, 20th January 1827. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I embrace the opportunity of Mr H.'s re- 
 turn, to thank you most sincerely for the present of your book. 
 I value it as a token of your friendship, and I value it for its 
 contents. I have read several sermons, and am highly pleased 
 with them. I wonder, as I go along, how you have been able to 
 
138 REMARKS ON AUTHORS. 
 
 illustrate the different topics so fully and particularly ; and am 
 sure, that if I had attempted such subjects, my stock of ideas 
 would have been speedily exhausted. This, as well as your other 
 works, will not only be creditable to yourself, but will, I doubt 
 not, answer the end which you had in view in giving it to 
 the public, — ^the edification and consolation of many." 
 
 In 1827, he published a third and an enlarged edition of 
 his " Sermons to the Young.'" Such pleasing testimonies of 
 the general acceptance of his works, were highly encouraging 
 to him, and stimulated him to make still further exertions 
 for the instruction of his fellow-men. No sooner had one 
 volume issued from the press, than he commenced prepara- 
 tions ^dth a view to the publication of another. Nor was 
 his time wholly occupied in writing for the benefit of others. 
 He found leisure, amid his numerous avocations, for perus- 
 ing the productions both of ancient and of modern writers. 
 In some of the letters, which he wi-ote at this period, we 
 find interesting notices of the books which he perused. The 
 follovnng letter was written by him to Mrs H., one of his 
 most valued correspondents : — 
 
 " Rosepark, 2d March 1827. 
 
 " My Dear Friend, — I cannot express the delight which 
 your letter, which I received last Saturday, gave me. I will not 
 denj^, that the vanity of an author was flattered by it ; but I can 
 say, that feelings of a better sort were excited and strengthened, 
 as I perused it. I have such a high idea of your taste and judge- 
 ment, as could not but render your approbation of the volume 
 peculiarly pleasing. I must ever feel the deepest gratitude for 
 the encouragement you have given me. I was quite charmed 
 
 by your description of the domestic readings at B , and a few 
 
 more such lessons may lead me into the state, which appears in 
 your dwelling the association of intelligence, and friendship, and 
 piety. Such a happiness must be lasting, for it is independent of 
 the caprice and mirth of the world. Its seat is home, its guardian 
 is wisdom, its heart is love. 
 
 " You will see that Sir Walter Scott has owned the Waverly 
 Novels. How amazing the rich and varied talents of that man ! 
 
REMARKS ON AUTHORS. 139 
 
 I am afraid that his Life of Napoleon will not add to his fame. 
 The novellist writes for the passing day, the historian for poste- 
 rity. Sir Walter writes too hastily for a work that is to claim 
 immortality, and his political prejudices will, in all probability, 
 prevent him from judging of his hero with candour and impar- 
 tiality. While he records the course of an ambition which grasped 
 the empire of the world, and which shrunk in pity from no suf- 
 fering, and in horror from no crime deemed necessary for the at- 
 tainment of its object, it should also be stated what abuses he 
 swept away, what improvements he introduced, and what talent 
 he elicited. 
 
 " I have been reading Jay's ' Christian.' It is practical, faith- 
 ful, and interesting. It is quite in the style of his short dis- 
 courses for the use of families, and is not written with that care 
 or flowing eloquence, by which his earlier productions are dis- 
 tinguished. It can be said of Jay (though it cannot be said of 
 every popular man), that he has merited his celebrity, and though 
 he is too candid for a dogmatist, and too mild for a zealot, every 
 competent judge must admire the fidelity and the skill with which 
 he traces the obligations and the influence of religion. 
 
 " I was reading lately a part of a Latin work of a Dutch di- 
 vine, which has for its title, ' The Economy of the Patriarchs.' 
 It is a very learned production, but more curious than either edi- 
 fying or practical. I will give you a specimen of the strange 
 questions which he raises and answers. He gravely discusses the 
 point,— whether the rib from Adam's side, from which Eve was 
 formed, was an essential or a superfluous part of man's frame. 
 After stating various arguments on both views of the subject, 
 he gives his opinion that it was an essential part, but that the 
 want was immediately supplied by the power of God. He de- 
 duces no inference from this opinion ; and you will not think 
 it presumptuous that I should suggest one, and it is this,— 
 That a husband can make no sacrifice for his wife which is not 
 compensated by the blessing of God, and by the returns of kind- 
 ness which the gratitude and tenderness of the female heart never 
 
 fail to yield. 
 
 « May a gracious providence regard you and your estimable 
 partner with everlasting kindness, and make your cup to run 
 over I am, &c." 
 
140 REMARKS ON AUTHORS. 
 
 In another letter, addressed to the same correspondent, 
 he says : — 
 
 " Have you seen ' The Course of Time,' a poem written by 
 one of our preachers, and of Avhich there is a very favourable re- 
 view in the last number of Blackwood's Magazine ? It is a work 
 of real genius ; and though by no means equally well supported 
 throughout, contains passages of high poetical talent. Its views 
 of human nature, and of the government of God, and the future 
 destinies of man, are decidedly scriptural ; and it is delightful to 
 think, that while poetry has been so often made the vehicle of in- 
 fidelity, and the instrument for cherishing the worst passions, it 
 appears here as the handmaid of revelation, and the guide to 
 piety, — tender, fervent, and elevated. 
 
 " I have been reading, lately, M'Crie's account of the pro- 
 gress and suppression of the Reformation in Italy. This is a 
 book of wonderful research, and brings forward various facts and 
 characters, known to none but the plodding student. He men- 
 tions some l^eautiful instances of the heroism and self-denial of 
 female piety ; and the feeling of admiration is mingled with re- 
 gret, that so little can be traced of persons of whom the world 
 Mas not worthy. Over how much excellence has oblivion spread 
 its mantle, — but it has its record on high. I wish that Dr M'Crie 
 had written the lives of some of the other fathers of our church. 
 Such topics would have excited more general interest, and might, 
 perhaps, revive the virtues of the olden time, which would 
 chasten and direct the fashionable piety of the day." 
 
 Extract from another letter, to the same : — 
 
 " I have been reading some of the posthumous sermons of Dr 
 Doddridge ; and though they are much inferior in fulness of il- 
 lustration, and in the qualities of good writing, to those published 
 by himself, yet I can trace in them that unction, that holy ten- 
 derness, and that happy appropriation of Scripture language and 
 imagery, in which he excelled. I have read Cyril Thornton, a 
 book beautifully wTitten, and which, I understand, the citizens of 
 Glasgow abuse with open throat, as a false and insolent libel on 
 the politeness, the intelligence, and the hospitality of the Athens 
 of the West. It would have been more just to Glasgow, had he 
 
POLLOK, THE POET. 141 
 
 mingled some good qualities in his picture ; but it is a just dis- 
 play of upstart vulgarity and absurd affectation." 
 
 In one of the above extracts, mention is made of Pollok, 
 the gifted author of " The Course of Time/' Dr Waugh 
 was anxious to obtain some information concerning this pro- 
 mising youth, whose poem and whose untimely death pro- 
 duced such a strong impression upon the public mind. In a 
 letter addressed to his friend, dated Falkirk, 22d October 
 1827, Dr Belfrage communicated the following particulars 
 concerning Pollok'8 history, which will be perused with in- 
 terest by all who have read " The Course of Time f' — 
 
 " I never saw Pollok, the poet (whose untimely death has 
 caused such deep regret), but once. That I might gratify you, 
 I applied to my cousin at Slateford,* who invited him to his 
 house last summer, and had him under his care for several weeks, 
 for any particulars concerning him that might be interesting. 
 Every thing, that medical skill and generous friendship could do 
 for him, M^as done before he left Slateford. A change of climate 
 was the only expedient that gave the least hope of his recovery, 
 and he was sent to the south, and died there. 
 
 " My cousin, in a letter which I have received from him, 
 communicates the following particulars : Mr Pollok was born at 
 Muirhouse, in the parish of Eaglesham. His father was a small 
 farmer there. He studied at the University of Glasgow for 
 nearly ten years ; and was distinguished by ardour in study, and 
 by his attainments in moral science and the Belles Lettres. He 
 was licensed to preach the Gospel, by the United Associate 
 Presbytery of Edinburgh, near the end of last spring. He de- 
 livered only three discourses in public, all of which my cousin 
 heard. His first was on that text, — ' How long halt ye between 
 two opinions ;' the second on, — ' Blessed are the pure in heart, 
 for they shall see God ;' and the last on, — ' His name shall en- 
 dure for ever.' His style of preaching was striking. He seized 
 on one great leading principle in the text, and his reasonings and 
 illustrations were close and powerful. As a man, he was keen, 
 open, upright, and independent, — fond of rational discussion, and 
 
 * The late Rev. John Belfrage, M. D. 
 
143 DEATH OF Dll WAUGH. 
 
 very caustic in his remarks. He had fully imbibed the senti- 
 ments expressed in his poem ; and to its principles he often ad- 
 verted in conversation with my cousin, and applied them to his 
 own condition. 
 
 " Though devoted to Belles Lettres and poetry, he had 
 powers for any thing. His mind was comprehensive and dis- 
 criminating. When he wrote, his eye got wildly keen, — he was 
 covered with perspiration, and seemed to be in a state of excite- 
 ment approaching to frenz}^ The measure of his going to Italy, 
 and the subscription to defray the expense of it, originated with 
 my cousin. One hundred and seventy pounds were collected ; 
 but on going to London, a consultation, previously concerted, 
 took place. The medical men declared him unable to undertake 
 such a long voyage, and sent him to Southampton. He died a 
 month after he left my cousin's house. I am happy that I have 
 been able to gratify you by these views of his character and his- 
 tory, which, as yet, are known to few." 
 
 A few weeks after he had written this letter, Dr Belfrage 
 received an announcement of the death of his warm-hearted 
 friend Dr Waugh. After a long and active life, spent in the 
 service of his God, this venerable man finished his course on 
 the 14th of December 1827. He descended to the grave, 
 full of years, and loaded with the honours of the Christian 
 ministry. No one mourned more sincerely on account of his 
 death, than did the subject of this memoir. By the removal 
 of Dr Waugh, a large blank was occasioned in the circle of 
 his friendship. He had cherished toward this excellent per- 
 son, while living, a warm attachment ; and he retained an 
 affectionate remembrance of him, after he was gone. The 
 following extract is from a letter, which Dr Belfrage ad- 
 dressed to a member of Dr Waugh's family, soon after the 
 death of their father : — 
 
 " A missionary association, in my congregation, which has 
 existed for fifteen years, and which, during that period, has raised 
 more than L. 700 for the missionary cause, was united lately with 
 a general society formed in this place for diffusing religious know- 
 ledge. The injury done to the cause by the disruption of so many 
 
FUNERAL DISCOURSE ¥0R Dll WAUGH. 143 
 
 societies, led me to think favourably of this union. The united 
 society held a meeting a fortnight ago ; and, in my speech, I 
 alluded to your father's zeal in that cause, and how he lived and 
 died with it on his heart. He is gone to glory ; but the God of 
 Elijah is with us, and the Counsellor of Zion hath not perished. 
 He hath dropped his mantle — the faith, hope, and charity, in which 
 he lived and died. Let us take it up ; and, with it, let us smite 
 every torrent in our way. The stream will part asunder, and 
 we will pass over its channel in safety. Never can I forget the 
 overpowering sublimity and tenderness of his prayer at the open- 
 ing of the missionary meeting for business. The audience was 
 vast, but there was a stillness over it, like the stillness of death." 
 
 Dr Belfrage preached a funeral discourse to his congrega- 
 tion, in which he paid a just tribute to the character of his 
 departed friend. His text was the beautiful description given 
 of Barnabas, in Acts xi. 24 ; " He was a good man, full of 
 the Holy Ghost, and of faith."" This discourse he afterw^ard 
 published in his " Counsels for the Sanctuary."*' We shall 
 give a few extracts from the concluding part of it, in which 
 our readers will find a well-drawn picture of the life and 
 character of Dr Waugh. Adverting to the character of Bar- 
 nabas, as sketched by the pen of inspiration, he says : — 
 
 " 1 am called, in the providence of God, this day to show 
 how it was manifested in the venerable Dr Waugh, who, after a 
 holy and very useful life, has, a few days ago, entered into the 
 joy of his Lord. His praise is in all the churches ; and in no 
 place were his occasional ministrations more valued, or his cha- 
 racter more revered and loved, than here. In his last visit, he 
 discoursed to us on these words, * He delighteth in mercy ;' and 
 the spirit of that text was the impulse under which he acted. 
 Every talent, every day, and every effort he could put forth, 
 were employed in promoting the spiritual and temporal welfare 
 of his fellow-creatures. Nor was this his employment only dur- 
 ing the vigour of his life ; for, in old age, and under many in- 
 firmities, the call of mercy roused him to energy ; and often has 
 he risen from his couch to sit for hours, directing the applications 
 
 K g 
 
144 CHARACTER OF DR WAUGH. 
 
 of forlorn suppliants, or to go forth to plead in their behalf with 
 the affluent and the liberal. 
 
 " I could tell you of the friendless whom he patronized ; of 
 the unfortunate whom he assisted ; of the young whom he led to 
 wisdom and to goodness ; and of the perplexed and the dejected, 
 to whom he was a guide and a comforter. And these kindnesses 
 were done with such a frankness and cheerfulness as enhanced 
 the obligation. He was often called to mingle in society ; and 
 never was he known to utter one sentence of detraction, or one 
 word whicli could wound. There was in his manner a charming 
 pleasantry; for it was the dictate of a bright fancy, and of a 
 cheerful heart ; and it was always associated with good sense and 
 benignity. To edify and to make happy were his objects in going 
 into company ; and his entrance was ever hailed with feelings of 
 delight. Amidst this general benignity and kindness, he had his 
 chosen friends, in whom he delighted. Never was there a heart 
 more fitted for friendship ; his eye beamed with its brightest 
 lustre, and his voice fell on the ear in its sweetest tones. His 
 friendships were distinguished by the high estimation in which 
 he held their objects ; the efforts he made to serve them ; the 
 constancy with which he remembered them, after years of separa- 
 tion ; and the hallowed fondness with which he cherished their 
 memory, and clung to their families when they were no more. 
 And so happily did he maintain the saintliness of his character, 
 amidst all his graciousness, that the more he was loved the more 
 he was- venerated. * * * * 
 
 " He was one of the founders of the London Missionary So- 
 ciety, and was unwearied in his exertions to promote its interests. 
 So far from grudging the sacrifices which he was called to make 
 in its behalf, he used to speak of his obligations to that cause for 
 the delightful friendships into which it had brought him, and for 
 the life which it shed over every scene of duty. It owes much 
 of its influence to the weight of his name, the power of his elo- 
 quence, and the efficacy of his prayers. But of every pious and 
 benevolent institution, he was the friend and advocate. His 
 pleadings in their behalf were so appropriate, and so richly im- 
 bued with the spirit of power and of love, that he seldom had 
 reason to regret their failure ; yet he never neglected the spiritual 
 interests of his own congregation. He preached to them regu- 
 
CHAllAGTEll OF DR WAUGH. 145 
 
 larly three times every Lord's day ; held weekly meetings with 
 the young, and taught his people from house to house. In that 
 hallowed intercourse, his coming among them was hailed m ith the 
 affection of holy friendship, and his counsels were received as the 
 counsels of his heart. Children were charmed by his affectionate 
 manners, kept his sayings, and pondered them in their hearts ; 
 and an attachment to him was thus early formed, which no novelty 
 could alienate, which honoured his grey hairs, and which will bless 
 his memory. And, though popularity is fluctuating, and the 
 crowd is apt to be attracted by a new name, he maintained a most 
 respectable congregation to the last, and was looked up to by all 
 classes with increasing love and veneration. 
 
 " To his native country he continued strongly attached, and 
 delighted to expatiate on the institutions, the scenery, and the 
 intellectual and moral worth of the people of Scotland ; the wild 
 magnificence of its mountains, and its moors, and its glens, con- 
 secrated by the struggles of its martyrs, and the solemnities of 
 their worship. To the communions of his early days, his mind 
 often reverted ; and of the character and the ministry of the ex- 
 cellent man who was the spiritual guide of his childhood and 
 youth, he had much to say. He dwelt on his worth with the 
 hallowed fondness of filial piety, and on the excellencies of the 
 men of God, at whose feet he used to sit at sacramental solem- 
 nities. In the candour and liberality of his spirit, he did ample 
 justice to what was worthy of praise in other parties, and lived 
 on the most friendly terms with them ; yet he was decidedly at- 
 tached to the religious body with which he was associated, and 
 was ready, on every proper occasion, to defend its principles. 
 But his prudence and mildness kept him from provoking dispu- 
 tation, and gave to what he was called on to say, an influence 
 which never falls to the lot of the rash and noisy partisan. Amidst 
 the comforts of his dwelUng, his heart melted for the hardships of 
 his poor brethren ; and he delighted to do justice to the virtues 
 by which their limited circumstances were blessed with tranqui- 
 lity, and surrounded by respect. 
 
 " It is a most gratifying circumstance, that a course so bene- 
 ficial was prolonged for nearly half a century, and that his use- 
 fulness was unimpaired to the close of his life. While some men 
 of God have, by bodily or mental infirmity, been debarred, for 
 
146 CHARACTER OF DR WAUGH. 
 
 years before they died, from public labour, he was regularly em- 
 ployed in the work of the Gospel to the last. On his last Sab- 
 bath on earth, he preached with all the fidelity and earnestness of 
 a minister of righteousness to a neighbouring congregation ; and, 
 on the Lord's day before it, he had delivered a discourse to the 
 young in his church, fraught with the best counsels of a father's 
 wisdom. It was while reading to his family an exposition of the 
 Psalms, that his last sickness came upon him ; and, during the 
 three days that he lay under it, how striking was the similarity 
 of his dying to his living exercise ! His deathbed was distin- 
 guished by the power of prayer, by the counsels and benedictions 
 of holy kindness, by the patience which welcomed its sufferings, 
 as the last discipline of a father, and by a hope which had long 
 pointed to heaven as his home. Soothed by all the care and ten- 
 derness of the family of his heart, and leaning on the Saviour's 
 bosom, like the disciple whom Jesus loved, he entered into ever- 
 lasting rest." 
 
 In consequence of the frequent contributions which Dr 
 Belfrage had sent to the pages of the Evangelical Magazine, 
 and the active interest which he had taken in its success, it 
 was proposed, and unanimously resolved, at a general meet- 
 ing of the conductors of that useful periodical, that his name 
 should be added to their number, in the room of Dr Waugh. 
 This resolution was communicated to him in a kind and re- 
 spectful letter from the Reverend Dr Morrison, one of the 
 editors, who concludes his communication in the following 
 terms : — " In the name of all my brethren, I return you my 
 grateful acknowledgements for past help, and earnestly en- 
 treat a continuance of your most edifying quarterly com- 
 munications, which, I assure you, are read with extraordinary 
 delight, and, I hope, Christian benefit.'' 
 
 The Reverend George Burder, so well known in the re- 
 ligious world for his valuable publications, and who, for a 
 number of years, had the editorial charge of the Evangelical 
 Magazine, sent him, soon after this, a copy of one of his 
 works, and accompanied it by the following letter, in which 
 he expresses the satisfaction with which he had perused his 
 
LETTER FIIOM HEY. CJEOKGE EURDEK. 147 
 
 sermons to the aged, and gratefully acknowledges the contri- 
 butions which Dr Beltrage had sent to the Magazine. 
 
 " Reverend and Dear Sir, — Be pleased to accept a copy of 
 my twelve plain and short sermons for the aged. They are com- 
 posed chiefly for the use of the poor and uninformed, of whom 
 we have so many in the south. I have perused your excellent 
 Sermons for the Aged, with much pleasure, and have derived ad- 
 vantage from them in this humble effort, — the last, probably, that 
 I shall be able to make for general good, being now nearly blind, 
 and much afflicted ; yet am enabled to preach once on the Sab- 
 bath to my people. 
 
 " We have lost good Dr Waugh, — a loss we deeply regret ; 
 for he was much and justly beloved by all who knew him. Most 
 of the first promoters of the London Missionary Society have 
 been removed to their long home. May you. Dear Sir, be long 
 continued a burning and a shining light in the church of God. I 
 am, Dear Sir, with sincere regard, your affectionate friend, 
 
 " George Burdee. 
 
 " Many thanks to you, Dear Sir, for your valuable papers in 
 the Evangelical Magazine. Have the goodness to continue your 
 aid. It will be of pre-eminent service to that work," 
 
 Dr Belfrage now made a very important change in his 
 mode of life, by entering into the marriage state. In the 
 month of September 1828, he was married to Miss Margaret 
 Gardner, youngest daughter of Richard Gardner, Esq. Comp- 
 troller of the Customs, Edinburgh. In a letter addressed to 
 a friend, a few years before this, alluding to the subject of 
 marriage, while as yet his affections were unoccupied, he 
 
 " My friends urge it very much, and I am satisfied, on va- 
 rious accounts, that it w ould be a wise measure ; but I cannot 
 move without attachment. Kind dispositions, a cultivated mind, 
 and cheerfulness of manner, are the qualities which I must meet 
 with, to be happy. One who would take an interest in my stud- 
 ies ; with whom I could talk about my literary plans, and who 
 
148 PUBLISHES COUNSELS FOR THE SANCTUAKY. 
 
 would be satisfied with the calm seclusion, and humble enjoy- 
 ments of a country minister's dwelling, would find in me a heart 
 disposed to gratify her, and one on whom not one look of kind- 
 ness would be lost." 
 
 Delicacy prevents us from saying more on this subject, 
 than that he found fully realized in the amiable and affec- 
 tionate object of his choice, those qualities which he de- 
 scribes as necessary to make him happy. 
 
 Another volume, which Dr Belfrage had for some time 
 been engaged in preparing for the press, was published in 
 the beginning of 1829. This was his " Counsels for the 
 Sanctuary, and for Civil Life," one of the most useful of his 
 publications. It contains in it discourses peculiarly adapted 
 to persons engaged in the various departments of life, such 
 as the merchant, the lawj^er, the physician, the soldier, and 
 the sailor. The illustrations are occasionally interspersed 
 with interesting notices of men who, while they were emi- 
 nent in their profession, were at the same time distinguished 
 for their piety. 
 
 " This volume concludes the author's series of illustra- 
 tions of Christian morality, in its applications to the various 
 spheres and periods of life. The three volumes formerly 
 published, contained his friendly admonitions to the young, 
 to families, and to the old ; and, in this one, various classes 
 in the church and society are addressed, which were not in- 
 cluded under any of the former divisions, and are reminded 
 of the duties, and encouraged under the difficulties, of their 
 respective conditions." " The variety of scenes and circum- 
 stances adverted to in this volume, will show how broad the 
 commandment of God is, and how wide is the range of pas- 
 toral duty. It may extend the charitable interest of its 
 readers, in the lot and duties of their brethren, and evince, 
 that the best morality is that which glows with the spirit of 
 the cross, and which, by its practical energy, adorns and 
 blesses every department of life." 
 
 By a letter which Dr Belfrage received from a minister 
 
LETTER FROM AMERICA. 149 
 
 in America, he had the satisfaction to learn, that his writings 
 were read and admired on the other side of the Atlantic, and 
 that some of them had been reprinted in that country. The 
 letter, which we here insert, was written by the Reverend 
 Robert Forrest, formerly a minister of the Associate Synod 
 in Scotland, but now connected with the Associate Reformed 
 Synod in America. 
 
 " South Katright, 4th Mmj 1829. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — When I had the pleasure of seeing you in 
 Edinburgh, I promised to write you. Most of your writings are 
 read and admired in this country. One of them was reprinted 
 in New York, and I think it probable that others have been re- 
 printed at Pitsburgh on the Ohio. A bookseller in New York 
 has for several years imported such Scottish works as I have re- 
 commended to him ; but our government has now laid such a tax 
 on foreign publications, that importation is very limited. My re- 
 tired situation in the interior, about 1 80 miles north-west from 
 the city of New York, prevents me from giving much informa- 
 tion that will be interesting. You are probably aware, that a new 
 theological system has been manufactured in this country, is be- 
 come highly popular, and is almost every year receiving improve- 
 ments. It is commonly known by the name of Hopkinsianism, 
 and seems to be a compound of Arminian and Socinian errors. 
 Those who have adopted the system, are not agreed among them- 
 selves. Some are disposed to be satisfied with the moderate view 
 given of it in D wight's Theology; others have, in effect, renounced 
 the doctrine of the atonement : all of them reject the imputation 
 of Adam's sin, and the imputation of Christ's ; some of them 
 teach, that the grace of faith is imputed in justification, and that 
 faith is a modification of love, &c. For farther information, I 
 refer you to a work, originally printed in New York, and re- 
 printed in London, — ' A Contrast between Calvinism and Hop- 
 kinsianism, by Ezra Stiles Ely.' Ely was a student of Dr 
 Dwight's, and had preached these errors for some time, but was 
 brought to the knowledge of the truth by Dr Mason. 
 
 " I consider it a peculiar blessing, that we have no church 
 establishment ; but I do not admire our civil government. The 
 mode of electing a king once in four years, will not do long. It 
 was expected that the Antiburghers here would form a union 
 
150 VISIT TO ST ANDKEW S. 
 
 with Paxton's party in Scotland ; but it is ratlier a doubtful mat- 
 ter at present. They have discovered, that the Original Seceders 
 are not sound about the magistrates' power circa sacra ; they are 
 violently opposed to the United Church in Scotland. They have 
 refused all connexion with us, and we cannot form a connexion 
 with the Presbyterian Church, as they tolerate Hopkinsian errors. 
 
 Last summer, I transmitted to Mr K a particular account of 
 
 the state of our church. The subject of Catholic communion and 
 the psalmody give us considerable trouble. 
 
 " I find that our late teacher, Dugald Stewart, has lived for 
 several years in your neighbourhood. You can be able to inform 
 me, if any biography is preparing, and if it is intended to publish 
 his lectures on political economy. All his works have been re- 
 published in this country, and are much esteemed. I would be 
 much gratified to have a letter from you, directed to me, ' South 
 Katright, Delaware County, State of New York.' I set off to-day 
 to attend the annual meeting of the American Bible Society. 
 Requesting an interest in your prayers, I remain, dear sir, yours 
 respectfully, Robert Forrest." 
 
 In the summer of 1829, Dr Belfrage was invited to as- 
 sist in dispensing the ordinance of the Lord's Supper, at St 
 Andrew's. As it w^as from the University of this place he 
 had received his academical honour of Doctor of Divinity, 
 he took the opportunity, while visiting that ancient city, of 
 presenting the University Library with a copy of his works. 
 This expression of his gratitude and respect, was acknow- 
 ledged in a polite note, which he received from Principal 
 Haldane, who says, " I am instructed, by the Senatus Aca- 
 demicus, to thank you, in their name, for this acceptable pre- 
 sent of writings, which reflect so much credit on your piety, 
 talents, and taste, and which have deservedly raised you to 
 a very high place in the public estimation.'' 
 
 Many pleasing proofs have been afforded, in the preced- 
 ing pages, of the cordial and uninterrupted friendship which 
 existed, for a long number of years, betwixt the subject of 
 this memoir and Dr Waugh. After the death of the latter, 
 Dr Belfrage engaged, along with his friend, the Rev. James 
 
MEMOIR OF DR WAUGH. 15l 
 
 Hay of Kinross, in preparing a biographical account of that 
 excellent individual. The result of their combined labours, 
 was one of the most attractive volumes of biography extant. 
 The " Memoirs of Dr Waugh'' possess a peculiar charm. 
 It is impossible to peruse them without being both delighted 
 and instructed. This volume issued from the press in ] 830. 
 A large impression of it was speedily disposed of, and, in the 
 course of a few months, a second and an enlarged edition 
 made its appearance. This work, while it reflects no small 
 credit upon the compilers, contains a fine memorial of the 
 virtues and talents of him whose memory it is intended to 
 preserve. 
 
 Dr Belfrage felt highly gratified in being instrumental in 
 perpetuating the remembrance of so much worth. He con- 
 sidered that the Life of Dr Waugh was fitted to be eminently 
 useful in stimulating others to the practice of the Chris- 
 tian virtues. It was not the vanity arising from successful 
 authorship — it was a much nobler and purer feeling — that 
 dictated the following language, made use of in a letter, soon 
 after the publication of the Memoir : — " I have everv confi- 
 dence in the success of the Memoir — its success in the noblest 
 sense — for I know not a book better adapted to kindle in the 
 heart the love of piety, nor one more fit to be put into the 
 hands of those in whose welfare we are interested ; and well 
 may we say, ' Behold how religion breathes cheerfulness, be- 
 nignity, and peace." The charm of the book is Dr Waugh's 
 heart — all love to God and man. It will brinor to his dwell- 
 
 o 
 
 ing many a kind wish, and to his memory many a holy bless- 
 ing. Oh ! may the Spirit of all grace bless the record, for 
 the consolation of the hearts that loved him, and for the spi- 
 ritual advantage of all into whose hands it may come !'' 
 
 While Dr Waugh's " Memoirs" were passing through 
 the press, Dr Belfrage was engaged in preparing a series of 
 discourses, which he published in the beginning of 1830, with 
 the title of — " A Portrait of John the Baptist ; or an Illus- 
 tration of his History and Doctrine.'' " It is the object of 
 this little volume to exhibit, in a form adapted for holy uti- 
 
152 PORTRAIT OF JOHN THE BAPTIST. 
 
 lity, the features of John's character, the incidents in his his- 
 tory, and the leading topics of his doctrine. There is some- 
 thing so elevated in his sanctity, so animating in his zeal, so 
 generous in his self-denial, so instructive in his homage to 
 the Saviour, and so affecting in the circumstances of his 
 death, that they cannot fail, however feebly they may be re- 
 presented, to interest the heart."' 
 
 Dr Belfrage had now reached that period of life, when it 
 might have been expected that he would court repose, and 
 live upon the fruit of his past labours. But so far was this 
 from being the case, that he laboured with greater assiduity 
 than ever. During the concluding years of his life, his pub- 
 lications followed so rapidly upon one another, that we are 
 astonished at the fertility of his pen. Nor did he, while thus 
 engaged in preparing for the press, neglect any one duty, 
 either in public or private, which, as a minister of the Gos- 
 pel, he owed to his numerous congregation. His ministerial 
 visitations, his diets of examination, and his preparations for 
 the pulpit, were attended to Vv^ith his accustomed punctuality. 
 Such was the admirable manner in which he husbanded his 
 time, and so well adjusted were all his domestic and official 
 arrangements, that, besides discharging, with scrupulous fide- 
 lity, the duties of the ministerial office, and attending to the 
 claims of friendship, he found leisure to pen volume after 
 volume, with a dispatch, of which there are few instances to 
 be found amongst the ministers of any church, at least in 
 modern times. Though his works were almost all published 
 in the humble form of a duodecimo, for the purpose of ren- 
 dering them cheaper, and, of course, more extensively useful, 
 yet the quantity of letter -press in each volume, will be found 
 more than sufficient to fill three or four volumes of a fashion- 
 able novel. So fastidious was he in preparing his works for 
 the press, that he seldom, if ever, permitted any one of them 
 to pass into the hands of the publisher, without having writ- 
 ten it three times over. Those only who have had some ex- 
 perience of the fatiguing nature of such an employment, can 
 know how severelv taxed both his bodily and mental energies 
 
PtTBLISHKS A PRACTICAL EXPOSITION. 153 
 
 must have been, by such incessant appUcation ; and they will 
 not be surprised to learn, that his strength should have given 
 way beneath the pressure of labour, so severe in itself, and 
 so frequently repeated. 
 
 In 1882, he published a w^ork on which he bestowed 
 considerable pains, and which he himself regarded as the best 
 of his publications. This was his " Practical Exposition of 
 the Assembly's Shorter Catechism." His original intention 
 was, that it should be published in two octavo volumes ; and 
 he had sufficient materials prepared for this purpose : but, 
 afraid of marring the usefulness of it, by rendering it too 
 expensive for common readers to purchase, he was induced 
 to publish it, at first, in one duodecimo volume. The fol- 
 lowing year he published a volume of " Select Essays'" on va- 
 rious topics, religious and moral Several of these had pre- 
 viously appeared in some of the religious periodicals ; but a 
 large proportion of them were original. At the request of 
 the friends of the late Dr Lawson, he prepared a biographical 
 account of that eminent minister, which was published in 
 1833, along with a volume of the Doctor's discourses, " On 
 the History of David, and on the introduction of Christianity 
 into Britain." A new edition of his " Practical Exposition of 
 the Shorter Catechism" being called for, he greatly enlarged 
 and improved it, publishing it (in 1834), in two volumes 
 instead of one. This was his last attempt at publication. 
 While this second edition was passing through the press, a 
 fatal disease had begun to make inroads upon his frame. 
 Though he had left no other work behind him, but his " Prac- 
 tical Exposition," he would have been well entitled to the 
 gratitude of the religious world. As a book fit for being put 
 into the hands of young inquirers after the truth, and as pe- 
 culiarly adapted for the domestic circle, it has few equals. 
 The more it is known, the more will it be read and admired. 
 When the first edition of this work was published, a respect- 
 able minister, connected with the Church of Scotland, la- 
 bouring in one of the principal towns of England, sent him 
 the following letter of thanks : — 
 
154 LETTER FROM A MINISTER IN ENGLAND. 
 
 " Reverend Sir, — Let me offer you my thanks for the 
 able and engaging Exposition you have given of the Assem- 
 bly's Catechism. I have been looking about for a work of the 
 kind, for some time, but scarcely expected an exposition combin- 
 ing so much interest with so much accuracy and brevity. I have 
 just ordered eighteen copies of it for the Scotch school here, hav- 
 ing been appointed to select new reading books, as chaplain of 
 the school, and minister of the Scotch church, where the children 
 attend. Satisfied that a heart which has discovered so much be- 
 nevolence, will be gratified with this intelligence, I cannot resist 
 communicating it. As the Exposition will be used as a reading 
 book, light will thus be incidentally received, and the attention 
 fixed on the Catechism, learned and explained at other times. 
 May you be long spared to unfold and excite interest in the great 
 truths of religion, through the blessing of God." 
 
 When Dr Belfrage was laid aside from public useful- 
 ness, by the disease that ultimately brought him to the 
 grave, he did not give up altogether his literary avocations. 
 The habit of study and of writing had become a second na- 
 ture w^ith him. To renounce it, so long as any portion of 
 strength remained, was impossible. The desire of pro- 
 moting the spiritual interests of his fellow-men, operated 
 powerfully within him. When he could no longer prepare 
 volumes for the press, or deliver discourses from the pulpit, 
 he still sent instructive papers to be inserted in the pages of 
 the Evangelical Magazine. Some of these he sent only a 
 short while before his death; and the last that he penned 
 made its appearance in that periodical after he had paid the 
 debt of nature. These concluding communications were 
 accompanied by the following aflfectionate letter to the 
 Editor : — 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — It is your happiness to superintend the 
 pages of a Work which has done more than any contemporary 
 publication to fan the holy flame of love and charity among dif- 
 ferent sections of the professing world. Yours is, therefore, an 
 honourable post ; and I rejoice to know that your heart responds 
 to the spirit and character of the journal over which you preside, 
 
LETTER TO EDITOR OF EVANGELICAL MAGAZINE. 155 
 
 with SO much honour to yourself, and so much advantage to the 
 public. My mind was first drawn, with kindly feeling, to the in- 
 terests of the Evangelical Magazine, by my most esteemed friend 
 and brother, Dr Waugh, whose heart was the dwelling-place of 
 gentle and tender affections, and who solaced himself with the 
 thought, that there was at least one organ of periodical literature 
 devoted to the interests of the Catholic Church. Go on, my dear 
 sir, in your work of faith and labour of love ; and though, in 
 these conflicting days of the Christian Church, it may be im- 
 possible, with integrity, to pursue a strictly neutral course, yet 
 let it ever be seen in your editorial career, that you follow in the 
 footsteps of those venerated men who sleep in Christ, and who 
 taught their generation how good and how pleasant it is for 
 brethren to dwell together in unity." 
 
 In addition to those works already enumerated, Dr Bel- 
 frage had, in a state of complete readiness for the press, two 
 volumes of lectures, which it was his intention to publish, 
 but was prevented by increasing debility from carrying his 
 intention into eftect. He had also prepared, at the special 
 request of one of his publishers, two small volumes, which, 
 we believe, are at present in their progress through the 
 press, and will ere long make their appearance ; the one be- 
 ing a series of discourses on the parable of the ten virgins, 
 and having for its title, " The Visible Church in the Last 
 Days,'' — the other consisting of discourses on the promises, 
 and entitled, " Christian Instruction in Hope, in Warning, 
 and in Example.'' As if his time had not been sufficiently 
 occupied by the composition and publication of so many 
 volumes, such was his extraordinary industry, that he occa- 
 sionally spent some of his leisure hours in writing essays, 
 sketches from fancy, and biographical accounts, several of 
 which have been found among his papers, in a state nearly 
 fit for publication. 
 
 Let it not be supposed that the subject of this Memoir 
 neglected the work of the ministry, that he might acquire 
 fame as an author. Fidelity, and diligence, and zeal, cha- 
 racterized him, in a high degree, as a minister of the Gospel. 
 
156 DIETS OF EXAMINATIOX. 
 
 The grand object of his life was to win souls to the Re- 
 deemer ; and, in the accomplishing of this object, few minis- 
 ters have been more successful. We shall now present our 
 readers with some account of his ministerial labours and 
 success. 
 
 Besides attending to the ministrations of the pulpit upon 
 Sabbath, and visiting the sick during the week, the mi- 
 nisters of the different sections of the Scottish Presbyterian 
 Church are required to hold diets of examination during 
 the year, at which both the young and the old connected 
 with their congregations are expected to attend ; they are 
 further required to visit, ministerially, all the families of 
 their congregation, in succession, to pray with them, and in- 
 struct them in the doctrines of the Gospel, and to address to 
 them such exhortations as may be suited to their varied cir- 
 cumstances, and to the relation in which they stand to one 
 another. For the benefit of our southern readers, we shall 
 state the particular forms that are ordinarily observed on 
 such occasions. 
 
 When the minister intends holding a diet of examina- 
 tion in any particular district of his congregation, he gives 
 public intimation from the pulpit, on the preceding Sabbath, 
 that such a diet will be held for the families belonging to his 
 congregation, who reside in that quarter, naming the time 
 and place of meeting. On the day appointed, the meeting 
 takes place, — consisting of heads of families and their child- 
 ren, and of other domestics. The number who attend is 
 greater or smaller, according to the extent of the district, or 
 according to the habits and avocations of the people. The 
 meeting is opened with prayer ; and sometimes with praise 
 and prayer. The minister then calls upon the adult part of 
 the assemblage to stand up, in successive classes, if they be 
 numerous, and in one class, if they be few ; but, for the most 
 part, the men form one class ^ and the women another. A 
 round of questions is first proposed out of " The Assembly's 
 Shorter Catechism ;" and then a particular doctrine or sub- 
 ject is selected by him, on which he proposes a series of 
 
PASTORAL VISITATIONS. 157 
 
 questions to the persons standing before liini, approving or 
 correcting the answers which he receives, and explaining the 
 different topics as he goes along. Having spent some time in 
 this exercise, the adults are requested to resume their seats, 
 and the children are called upon to stand up. Familiar 
 questions are proposed to them, suited to their capacity ; and, 
 after being examined, they are reminded to be upon their 
 guard against sin, to fear God, to observe the Sabbath, to 
 obey their parents, and to attend to all the duties of religion. 
 After the examination of the whole is completed, the minis- 
 ter delivers an address to those who are assembled, the object 
 of which is to urge upon them a more enlarged acquaintance 
 with the doctrines of the Bible, and a closer walking with 
 God in the observance of the ordinances, and in the cultiva- 
 tion of personal and family religion. The meeting concludes, 
 as it commenced, with the exercises of devotion. These diets 
 of examination are held annually, or at least periodically, 
 in the several districts of the congregation, so that all the fa- 
 milies have an opportunity of attending, if they are inclined. 
 The ministerial visitations are conducted in a manner 
 equally regular and methodical. Public intimation is given 
 on Sabbath by the minister, that he intends visiting on a 
 day which he names, the families residing in a particular 
 district of the congregation. In performing the visitation, 
 he is usually accompanied by the elder who has the charge 
 (under the Session) of the district. He enters each family 
 in succession ; and, after the ordinary salutations are past, 
 and all the members of the family, young and old, are as- 
 sembled, he proceeds to ask questions at the examinable per- 
 sons, in a manner similar to w^hat he does at the diets of 
 examination.* He then delivers a plain and familiar ad- 
 
 * The practice varies somewhat with different ministers in these family 
 visitations. Some do not examine at all, in these visitations, but only exhort ; 
 others examine the young, but do not examine the heads of the family. There 
 are some who call upon every family, and pray with them, but do not exhort 
 in each. They assemble two or more families into one place, and address an 
 exhortation to them, when thus assembled, 
 
 L 
 
158 IIIXISTEKIAL FIDELITY AND DILIGENCE. 
 
 dress, suiting it to the circumstances of the family ; and ho 
 communicates to the different members instruction, comfort, 
 "warning, or reproof, as the occasion may require. After the 
 address, he offers up a prayer. By such visitations, recur- 
 ring, as they do, sometimes at longer and sometimes at 
 shorter intervals, the minister acquires an intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the people of his charge. He knows the circum- 
 stances in which they are placed ; and is enabled to judge, 
 both from what he observes and from what he hears^ whether 
 they are making progress in religion^ or the contrary. 
 
 In many places, especially in towns, the diets of exami- 
 nation have been given up, in consequence of the people not 
 choosing to attend ; though, in the country districts, and in 
 the smaller towns, they are still observed with considerable 
 regularity, especially among Dissenters. The ministerial vi- 
 sitations are, for the most part, punctually observed both in 
 tow^l and country. We make this statement chiefly in refer- 
 ence to the dissenting ministers ; as we are not sufficiently 
 acquainted with the general practice of the ministers in the 
 Establishment, to say wdiether they are regular in ministerial 
 visitations or not. 
 
 With regard to the subject of this memoir, there have 
 been few ministers, in any church, who have exhibited such 
 a bright example of fidelity and diligence, in attending to all 
 the duties of the sacred office, as he did. His congregation 
 was large. It included in it a population of probably 2000 
 souls. Of these, upward of 900 were in full communion 
 with the church. It was extended over a considerable dis- 
 trict of country. Once a-year did he hold diets of examina- 
 tion in the several quarters of the congregation, which were 
 attended both by the young and by the old ; and, once a-year 
 also, did he visit ministerially all the families of his widely 
 extended congregation, teaching from house to house. Two, 
 and sometimes three days a-week, during eight months of 
 the year, were devoted by him to these laborious parts of 
 ministerial duty. He frequently left home at eight in the 
 morning, and did not return till four in the afternoon ; and 
 
AKECDOTK. 159 
 
 ho had occasionally extra meetings in the evening, from six 
 till eight o'clock, in the session-house, with such of the work 
 people as he did not find at home during the day. From 
 November till the end of March, he w^as employed in ex- 
 amining and visiting in the town and villages ; and, from 
 June till the end of August, he was engaged in the country 
 districts. 
 
 The manner in which he conducted his diets of examina- 
 tion and visitation, was peculiarly pleasing and instructive. 
 For imparting interest to these exercises, and rendering them 
 the sources of improvement to his people, he was eminently 
 fitted by the gifts which he possessed. On one occasion, 
 
 when holding a diet of examination at the village of S , 
 
 a gentleman residing in the neighbourhood was passing ; 
 and, observing the people flocking to the place of meeting, 
 dressed in their Sabbath-day clothes, he asked a person whom 
 he saw standing at a door, " What is doing here to-day ?'"* 
 To which the reply was, " It is a minister from Falkirk, 
 wdio is examining to-day. They do not need stoves here, for 
 this minister warms all their hearts^ The follovring extract 
 is from a letter addressed to the compiler of this part of the 
 Memoir, by a minister of the Gospel, who was trained up 
 under Dr Belfrage : — 
 
 " I have ofLen,'- says the writer, " been present at his district 
 examinations ; and no one, I am persuaded, coidd go there with- 
 out being highly interested. His people stood up around him, 
 with tlie confidence of affectionate disciples ; for his kindness of 
 manner dispelled all their fears. He had a remarkable skill in 
 suiting his questions to the capacity and dispositions of the several 
 individuals he catechised. Instances of deep piety, enlarged 
 Christian experience, and saving acquaintance with the wa3^s of 
 God, were thus discovered, which a less skilful or less gracious 
 catechist would have failed to elicit." " At one of his examina- 
 tions in the village of L , a young girl, in addition to the other 
 
 prescribed exercises, repeated to him the whole of the texts of 
 discourses that had been preached in his pulpit for the preceding 
 year. This mark of youthful attention gave him so much plea- 
 
 L 2 
 
160 REMINISCENCES. 
 
 sure, that others were induced to follow the beautiful example. 
 He never failed to urge upon the young, in other places, such 
 instances as this of uncommon diligence ; and it seldom failed to 
 excite a spirit of holy emulation." 
 
 Another minister of the Gospel, who also was trained up 
 under Dr Belfrage, writing concerning his pastoral visita- 
 tions, says : — 
 
 " In this laborious but useful department of duty, Dr Belfrage 
 has been equalled by few, and surpassed by none. Notwithstand- 
 ing of the great size and widely-scattered localities of his congre- 
 gation, he visited and examined them all once every year. It is 
 indeed difficult to conceive how he managed to do this with such 
 ease and regularity. Yet so regular was he, that the members 
 could calculate upon the very week of his appearance amongst 
 them. We have even heard it employed as a point of calcula- 
 tion ; for, if any thing happened at the period of the minister's 
 visitation, it happened at a well known definite period of time. 
 His custom, I believe, was to address in every house in the coun- 
 try. In the town, he called upon each family, and inquired into 
 their circumstances ; and collected so many of these families into 
 some convenient central place, and addi'essed them at consider- 
 able length. These addresses were distinguished for their appro- 
 priate, personal, and practical character. They seemed shaped 
 for the circumstances of each family, yea of each individual. In 
 no other duty did the Doctor excel more. His warmth of devo- 
 tion told here mightily. The last address of the kind that I heard 
 from him, was about three years ago, and was founded on Acts 
 V. 42 ; " And daily in the temple," &c. As it was the winter in 
 which I was taking license, I remember particularly the beautiful 
 and touching allusions which the subject called forth in my own 
 circumstances." 
 
 " I have yet," writes another correspondent, " the most vivid 
 recollection of his pastoral visits to my father's family, in the 
 days of my childhood; and the anticipation of the minister's 
 coming, on the morning of that annual visit, was ever a source of 
 pleasure, instead of regret and fear. And I still remember, not 
 without deep emotion, the warmth, and fervour, and particu- 
 
LETTKR TO A TRIEXD. 161 
 
 lai'ity, according to the different circumstances of those present, 
 and the varying condition of the family, both of his addresses 
 to us, and his praj^ers in our behalf. I cannot forget the anxiet}'^ 
 depicted on the youthful countenances present, to obtain a place 
 near to him (esteemed the post of honour), in the circle of children 
 formed around his chair, or the kindness and affability with which 
 he encouraged the timid ; whilst he gently, but firmly, repressed 
 the first indication of forward petulance, or the affectionate ear- 
 nestness with which he addressed himself, in the simplest lan- 
 guage, on the concerns of eternity, to the youthful heart." 
 
 In a letter to a friend, who had written to him making 
 some inquiries concerning his visitations, Dr Belfrage says: — 
 
 " My visitations, about which you so kindly inquire, will 
 close, as to the country part of my congregation, on Friday. 
 Your beautiful reflections on that service, I shall carry in my 
 heart in all my walks. They are pleasing scenes among a peace- 
 ful and affectionate people, as mine are. The only draw -back is 
 the great fatigue which they occasion. I visit and examine every 
 district of my large congregation every year. My father did so : 
 and, though the increasing population of the country has en- 
 larged the congregation considerably, I follow his example. 
 Though urged by my friends to lessen my labour, I still go on ; 
 and my vigorous health fits me for a toil that would be oppres- 
 sive to others. Old Mr Shirra, of Kirkcaldy, of whom you must 
 have heard, used sometimes to say to his brethren, when urging 
 them to hard service, ' It will not look the worse at the day of 
 judgement.' " 
 
 Amidst his numerous avocations, Dr Belfrage paid great 
 attention to the young in his congregation. He laboured 
 hard to promote their spiritual interests ; and he was much 
 beloved by them in return. The writer of one of the com- 
 munications above referred to, speaking of this dejoartment 
 of Dr Belfrage's labours, says : — 
 
 " His class for the young was commenced at an early period 
 of his ministry. He speaks of it, in the year 1819, as a thing he 
 had for some time previously regularly conducted. Unwilling 
 
162 IXSTUUCTIOX OF THE YOVNO. 
 
 to interfere with the parental instructions of the Sabbath even- 
 ing, he made choice of Thursday, to meet with the young ; and, 
 for two hours every week in summer, and in winter once every 
 month, during the time of moonlight, he regularly assembled 
 them in his large session-house, to promote their spiritual im- 
 provement. If a fair occurred in the town, on the day in ques- 
 tion, he Avould have changed the night of meeting ; as he feared 
 exceedingly to expose the young to the temptations or the dan- 
 gers vvhich such a scene might have presented. The number that 
 attended might average about sixty. Sometimes as many as a 
 liundred, and occasionally not more than thirty, might be pre- 
 sent, according to the state of the weather, or the season of the 
 year. But usually a regular attendance of about sixty or seventy 
 might be depended on. The age of these young people was from 
 ten to seventeen ; and the greater number w ere girls. They vv ere 
 not arranged into different classes, being all taught by himself; 
 but he suited his instructions to their several degrees of know- 
 ledge. For their use, he published three admirable catechisms, 
 which have been found extensively useful, and have, it is be- 
 lieved, been singularly beneficial to the young of other congre- 
 gations as well as his own. The first in order was a short and 
 simple, but very beautiful catechism for the younger children. 
 The second, called the ' Practical Catechism,' was designed for 
 the more advanced scholars. The third, and last published, was 
 his ' Guide to the Lord's Table.' Besides these three cate- 
 chisms, he sometimes used the ' Mother's,' as being well adapted 
 for the younger children ; and the more advanced scholars com- 
 mitted to memory the ' Summary of the Principles of the United 
 Secession Church.' He assigned them also, each night, as an 
 exercise, some doctrinal subject, which they were required to 
 prove on the following night, by texts of Scripture, ?did by such 
 reasons as might suggest themselves to their minds, The school 
 was always opened with prayer. He then heard them repeat 
 their questions ; after which they repeated a psalm or paraphrase, 
 or perhaps a portion of Scripture. They then mentioned the 
 text, and gave an outline, according to their several capacities, 
 of the discourses which they had heard. After these exercises 
 Avere finished, he would address them in a most tender and affec- 
 iionate manner, illustrating the subject whicli they Inid been proy- 
 
Jl'VtNlLi: t'OXVEKTS. 163 
 
 iiig ; repealing some impressive anecdote ; and bringing liome the 
 glorious theme of Redemption to their hearts. Having finished his 
 address, he joined vfith them in singing the praises of the Eternal, 
 and committed tliem to the guidance of the Almight}-, in fervent 
 prayer." 
 
 Dr Beifrage had the liappiuess to know, that his labours 
 ainonsf the youiifj were blessed of God to not a few of his 
 youthful charge. IHIany of them regarded him as their spi- 
 ritual father ; and some of them, who were removed by an 
 early death, gave satisfiictory evidence, in their last illness, 
 that they had profited by his instructions. In a sketch, 
 which has heen found among his papers, he makes mention 
 of a vounsT man, Avho had been under his ministry, whose 
 cahiiness and holy fortitude in the views of death, were quite 
 uncommon. " Seeing the agitation produced by grief in the 
 friends who surrounded his death-bed, he mildly checked it, 
 and, laying his hand on his breast, said, ' Why all this weep- 
 ing and crying ? — all is peace here, and all is peace with God 
 and me, through the blood of the cross. Precious blood in- 
 deed ! I am going to my Father and your Father, to my 
 God and your God.' To his father he said, ' If you cannot 
 bear the sight of my suffering, retire to another room, and 
 pray for me to God. I am trying to grasp his supporting 
 hand, and to stay my sinking frame on the mercy of the Sa- 
 viour.' " His mother, anxious to know what his views were 
 of a better hope beyond the grave, tried to speak to him of 
 what the Saviour had done for sinners. " Ah ! mother," he 
 said, " can you think that, after being brought up under the 
 ministry of Dr Belfrage, I can be ignorant of that V 
 
 Another instance of Dr Belfrage's success among the 
 young, is to be found in the following communication, which 
 was addressed to himself, and which coidd not fail to encour- 
 age him in his labours of love : — 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I have not the pleasm-e of your acquaint- 
 ance, and, lest it should be deemed obtrusive in addressing you 
 thus, I withhold mv name. Yet, for your farther encouragement 
 
164 JUVENILE CONVERTS. 
 
 in the work to M'hich you are called, give me leave to mention 
 the spiritual birth, in your congregation, of one young person, a 
 female, who has in mercy been stirred up to make a special appli- 
 cation of the grace of Christ, and rejoices in the dear hope of be- 
 ing accepted in the Beloved. Last Sabbath, she tells me, was a 
 delightful day to her soul. Go on, and may you have many, 
 many for a crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord." 
 
 The following extract from a letter, which we have re- 
 ceived from a correspondent, contains another pleasing in- 
 stance : — 
 
 " In the village of L , a young girl, of about thirteen or 
 
 fourteen years of age, died a short time ago, to whose heart the 
 holy instructions of this man of God, addressed to the young in 
 his frequent meetings with them, appear to have been singularly 
 blessed. The last illness of this young saint, was a triumphant 
 proof of the power of true religion to support the mind under in- 
 tense suffering. Young and old were edified in their visits to 
 her sick-bed. It was a scene well fitted to confirm the believer 
 in his hope, and to shake the sceptic in his vain speculations, to 
 behold how this beautiful child could so tranquilly count the foot- 
 steps of approaching death ; how her eye alone beamed with glad- 
 ness, when every other eye that beheld her streamed with tears ; 
 how she could be the ablest to administer comfort, where, in the 
 judgement of the world, she required it most. The secret of her 
 resignation was, — she had found peace ; and she first heard it from 
 her pastor's lips. To the instructions she had received in his 
 * Class for the Young,' she often alluded with a holy pleasure. 
 She made them lift her out of bed, the last time he prayed beside 
 her, that she might drink in every word he spake. In the days 
 of her health and strength, she looked for ' the blessed hope,' and 
 she died in the foretaste of eternal glory. She had drank of the 
 wine of the Redeemer's love upon earth, and she was early trans- 
 lated to drink it new with him in His heavenly kingdom. While 
 she was able to attend the house of God, her behaviour in the 
 church was remarked by many. She could not spare one glance 
 to see how others looked. Her eyes were intently fixed on her 
 minister ; and, as the hart panteth after the water-brooks, even 
 so her soul seemed to pant after God. What an interesting ex 
 
ANECDOTE. 165 
 
 ample for the young to imitate, if they would know the ' perfect 
 peace' of those who are precious in the sight of the Redeemer !" 
 
 The writer of this notice adds : — 
 
 " Many similar instances might be narrated, of hopeful piety 
 among the young of his charge ; but they will be best unfolded 
 in the great day of the Lord, when the hidden secrets of every 
 heart shall be disclosed. In that awful hour, when the dead shall 
 hear the voice of the Son of God, and when the honoured head 
 of our departed father shall be raised up, to hear his Lord's ac- 
 knowledgement, — ' Well done, good and faithful servant,' — few 
 ministers, I am persuaded, of this or of almost any age, will be 
 able to point to a greater company of ransomed ones, saying, — 
 * Here am I, and the children whom Thou has given me.' " 
 
 Every opportunity of doing good to the young, was em- 
 braced by Dr Belfrage. He called upon them, gave them 
 good advice, and put proper books into their hands. A boy 
 from the country (whose family Dr Belfrage knew), being 
 aj)prenticed to a shopkeeper in Falkirk, Dr Belfrage sought 
 him out, called for him frequently, gave him books to read, 
 recommended to him suitable companions, and took, in ge- 
 neral, a very deep interest in his welfare. Such kindness 
 and attention struck the master so much, that he said, " I 
 don't wonder that Dr Belfrage is so beloved : he has watched 
 over that boy with more than a father's care.'' 
 
 In visiting the sick, Dr Belfrage was most exemplary, 
 and his attentions were not confined to the sick of his own 
 flock, but he was ever ready, when called on, to give his 
 sympathy and prayers to the afflicted of other denominations. 
 Many miles did he travel, during the course of a week, on 
 these errands of mercy. Frequently, when he set out upon 
 such visitations, did he accomplish, before he returned, a 
 circuit of ten or twelve miles. The gentleness of his dispo- 
 sition, and the kindness of his manner, peculiarly fitted him 
 for ministering in the chamber of the afflicted and the dying. 
 The prayers which he presented on such occasions, were dis- 
 tinguished for their beauty and tenderness ; they were also 
 
166 VlblTATIOX or TllE SICK. 
 
 most appropriate to the circumstances of the individuals 
 whom he visited. To mourners in Zion, and to those who 
 were smarting under trials, he w^as indeed a son of consola- 
 tion : he knew well how^ to apply the cheering promises of 
 the Gospel ; while to those who were careless about divine 
 things, he addressed the language of faithful reproof. In 
 dealing wath men about the concerns of their soul, vrhether 
 they were in health or sickness, he did not say " Peace, when 
 there was no peace." He reproved, rebuked, and exhoi-ted, 
 with all lonof-suiferino- and doctrine. 
 
 Amongst his papers have been found some notices of per- 
 sons wdaom he visited in their last illness. In the extracts 
 which we now give from these papers, will be found a full 
 confirmation of what w^e have stated, with regard to his af- 
 fectionate and faithful mode of dealing w^ith the individuals 
 vrhom he visited. We behold him, in the instances referred 
 to, acting the part of a skilful physician ; sometimes probing 
 the wound, at other times administering the soothing draught, 
 and at all times directing the attention to the only sovereign 
 remedy. 
 
 "I have this day visited two persons, the most opposite in their 
 feelings. The first was a man, whose manner had been harsh, 
 who was quarrelsome in his temper, and severe in his conduct to 
 those who were dependant on him. I found him labouring under 
 a disease, which will soon terminate fatall}^, but most confident 
 in his hope of eternal life, and uttering the exclamations of holy 
 desire and rapture. Though I was aware it would neither be 
 well received by him nor by his friends, I stated, that the fear of 
 God was the best security against the slavish dread of death ; 
 how horrible it was to be dragged from a refuge of lies into eter- 
 nity ; and that all true reliance on the sacrifice of the Lamb of 
 God, was associated with the love and the invitation of his meek- 
 ness and gentleness. I besought him to pray for the Spirit of 
 Christ ; for if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none 
 of His. It is wicked to flatter in the pulpit, but it is still more 
 so to flatter by the side of the death-bed. 
 
 " The other person wliom I saw, was full of doubts and fears. 
 
DEATII-JJED bC'KXES. 1G7 
 
 His life had been peaceable and friendly, but he had a tendency 
 to gloominess and despondency, which deepened the shadows of 
 death. I saw him trying to stretch out the withered hand. I 
 heard him cry, ' Lord, save me, I perish,' and pointed out to him 
 the arm of the Saviour, extended in mercy, and that blood flow- 
 ing from His cross, which cleanseth from all sin. I have a good 
 hope that all will be well with him, and that, though he has to 
 pass through fire and water, God Avill bring him to a wealthy 
 place. The end of a good man, it has been said, is peace ; yet 
 his passage is not alwaj^s easy. When the believer reaches the 
 haven of rest, it will matter little whether he hath reached tlie 
 heavenly shore, wafted by a gentle breeze, or thrown on it by a 
 tremendous wave. 
 
 " Alexander M. is getting some better. I called on him yes- 
 terday, and told him how careful he should be to improve the 
 lengthening out of his time, and to follow up the impressions of 
 his need of salvation, and his desire after it, which were awakened 
 in his illness. This week I have attended the funerals of two 
 aged persons in my church. I saw them frequently in their last 
 days. Though they had laboured for a considerable time under 
 the infirmities of a declining constitution, and were frequently 
 debarred from sleep through breathlessness and coughing, they 
 never uttered a murmur. Their remembrance of the word and 
 ordinances was very solacing to them. The passages of Scrip- 
 ture which were brought to their recollection, were remarkably 
 appropriate, and their kindness of heart was truly delightful. 
 Old age has been called the season of selfishness, when the at- 
 tention is engrossed with what they want, or suffer, or are about 
 to leave. But these good old men felt as deep an interest in 
 their friends, and in the churches, as ever. ' Our best days,' they 
 said, ' have been with you ; but we shall have better days still in 
 heaven.' There is something peculiarly affecting in the grasp 
 of the old man's hand, and in the thanks and blessings which 
 mingle with the farewell of the dying. 
 
 " I have this day paid my last visit to a young woman dying 
 of consumption. Her first and only child was sitting smiling on 
 the bed beside her. What a contrast betwixt his efforts to 
 amuse her, and the unutterable tenderness with which she gazed 
 on him. I heard her say, — ' How often have I blessed the name 
 
168 DEATH-BED SCENES. 
 
 of Jesus for what he has said about little children, and for what 
 he did for them. I will die kneeling at his feet, holding up my 
 babe to his mercy. Lord Jesus, I can leave him in no hands 
 but thine.' She lifted up her hands and said, — ' O Father 
 of mercies, bless thee now and for ever, my son, my son !' I 
 said, — ' God delights to fulfil a mother's blessing, and his pro- 
 mises are fraught with grace all-sufficient for you. It has often 
 blessed a parent's death-bed, — I will be a God to thee and to thy 
 seed after thee.' 
 
 " Another young person, whom I visited, was dying of the 
 same disease. She had sent to me to say, that she wished to see 
 me, for the last time. Her mother was moistening her lips ; and 
 the young man, to whom she was to have been married, was 
 sitting in deep distress near her couch. I heard her say to her 
 mother, — ' O, trust in him who is the widow's stay.' She held 
 out her hand to the young man, and, while he bathed it with his 
 tears, said something to him about — ' one in Christ.' After a 
 short period, she seemed to gather a little more strength, and 
 said, — ' Heaven is not the land of forgetfulness, though the grave 
 is ; and amidst its fulness of joy, it will be my delight to see you 
 living in piety, and to meet you at the gate of our Father's 
 house.' The Gospel alone can give such peace, and inspire such 
 hopes ; and how horrible must be the state of their heart, and 
 how depraved their minds, who can contemn a religion which 
 blesses the hour that nature leaves to darkness and despair. 
 These young disciples had learned, with eagerness, the doctrine 
 of Christ, under my tuition ; and it was matter of my thanks- 
 giving to God, that I had seen them exemplifying its grace, and 
 in sickness and death bearing testimony to the power of its pro- 
 mises and hopes." 
 
 We give anotlier instance, extracted from a letter to one 
 of his correspondents. J^fter mentioning that he had been 
 assisting in dispensing the ordinance of the Supper in a 
 neighbouring congregation, lie says : — 
 
 " Before I returned home yesterday, 1 went and saw a sick 
 old woman, who had long been a hearer of my father's, and who 
 had been for some time under mv ministry. Slie travelled eyerv 
 
JUDICIAL INFATUATION. 169 
 
 Sabbath five miles to Falkirk, and she said, that in the stormiest 
 day she never felt disposed to complain of the jom'ney. When 
 
 the church was erected near her, at A , she joined it, and was 
 
 an ornament to it, by her wisdom, meekness, and piety. I was 
 very much struck with the power of religion, when I saw her last 
 evening. She has been severely tried by the loss of children and 
 grandchildren, and is suifering exquisite pain from a cancerous 
 complaint, and^ cannot but anticipate what she has yet to endure 
 in the course of that horrible disease, yet she was calm and re- 
 signed. The expressions of faith and hope, and pious affection, 
 were most edifying. In the care of the Redeemer she reposed 
 unshaken confidence ; on His merit she rested all her hope ; and to 
 His fulness she looked for grace to suffer and for grace to die. 
 Among other texts, she mentioned one, on which I had preached 
 on the evening of the first sacrament after my ordination, — ' The 
 last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.' All the way home, 
 such thoughts as these passed through my mind : — Nought but 
 religion could have produced such patience and such hope. How 
 gloomy would her cottage have been without its light, and hovv- 
 intolerable her agony without its support." 
 
 The following case of Judicial infatuation has been re- 
 corded by Dr Belfrage, at considerable length. We give the 
 paper entire, as the perusal of it is fitted to be useful. The 
 title of it is — " Judicial Infatuation :'" — 
 
 " A striking instance of this (he says) occurred within the 
 circle of ni}^ observation, the statement of which may be useful 
 for admonition : — A farmer in my neighbourhood, who had been 
 a regular attendant on the preaching of the Gospel, became inti- 
 mate with a plausible infidel, who unhappily succeeded in alien- 
 ating him from every thing serious, and in exciting him to an 
 open and unqualified avowal of infidelity. When I heard of his 
 danger, I went to him, and remonstrated with him on the immo- 
 rality and danger of his conduct, and endeavoured to impress 
 him with the grace and glory of the Gospel scheme of salvation, 
 and with the wretchedness in which the unbeliever is left, with- 
 out solace or hope, in horror of conscience, and in the prospect 
 of eternity. He could say nothing in support of his views, which 
 
170 JFDICIAL IXFATl'ATIOX. 
 
 could not easity be refuted ; but so obstinate were his prejudices, 
 that no argument for the truth made any impression on him. In 
 parting with him, I put into his hand Dick's ^ Essay on the In- 
 spiration of the Scriptures,' beseeching him to read it, with ear- 
 nest prayer to God for light and grace from on high, and entreat- 
 ing him to consider his ways, and to be wise. 
 
 " Some time after, I went again to see him, and when he re- 
 turned me the book, I asked him if he had read it through with 
 care. He replied, ' Part of it,' and that it was needless to read 
 more of it, as his mind was made up ; and, from what he said, 
 slightingly, of prayer, I saw that he was living without God in 
 the world. I besought him, for the sake of his young family, and 
 as he would not have their blood required at his hand, and for 
 the eternal welfare of his soul, to quit instantly the refuge of lies 
 to which he had betaken himself ; set before him the sweet peace 
 and the blessed hope in trouble and death, which the faith of the 
 Gospel yielded to the true believer ; and declared to him my 
 solemn persuasion, that it was ' a faithful saj- ing, and worthy of 
 all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sin- 
 ners, even the chief.' He expressed his conviction of my sin- 
 cerity^, but avowed liis determination to stand or fall by the dic- 
 tates of his own reason. 
 
 " I had no farther communication with him, and, as I have 
 been informed, he died as he had lived. He was seized with 
 cholera, and, after struggling with it for eight days, sank under 
 the debility it had brought on him. I found that no symptom of 
 remorse, or horror, or seriousness, had been manifested by him ; 
 and his only solicitude was, that his body might not be raised 
 from the grave, for the purpose of dissection. A little while be- 
 fore he died, he was observed groping with his hands around him, 
 and being asked what it was that he m ished, he said he wanted 
 to see if the safe was all right (the contrivance employed for se- 
 curing corpses in the grave) ; but not one syllable did he utter 
 relating to his soul, except declaring, in answer to a question, 
 that he was not afraid to die. I have passed by the lonely church- 
 yard, where he slumbers, and sad ^'ere my reflections on a death 
 Avithout wisdom, and a grave without hope, and on the awful re- 
 sults of a man's rejecting the counsel of God against his own soul, 
 and counting everlasting life unworthy of him ; and, in contrast- 
 
.TUi)I('IAL INFATl'ATIO.V. 171 
 
 ing his exit with that of others, whom I had seen deposited in 
 that ancient repository of the dead, of whom I had the pleasing 
 impression, that they were sleeping in Jesus, I felt that to be 
 religious was the only course of safety, and that the faith of tlie 
 Gospel was the only passport to a happy immortality. 
 
 " It is a striking fact, that an uncle of this person, who had 
 adopted, and zealously maintained, very erroneous principles, 
 was seized on his death-bed with great anguish of spirit. He 
 said to a pious rnan v> ho was visiting him, * When you die, you 
 throw aside the stained garment of mortality, an-d will appear 
 before God in the fine linen, clean and white, which is the 
 righteousness of saints, but I must stand before him loathsome 
 
 with pollution ; and in me Christ's words must be verified, ' If 
 
 ye believe not that I am he, ye shall die in your sins,' What 
 affecting objects do tv. o such death -beds exhibit, — despair with- 
 out hope, security without fear. Oh, how different the death- 
 bed of him who is filled with all joy and peace in believing, and 
 abounds in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost. I am 
 not aware of his being addicted to an^^ particular views for which 
 those principles could be sought as a protection from the rebukes 
 of conscience ; but there were tv.'o circumstances which tended to 
 strengthen him in his unbelief: The first was an impression, that 
 to think differently on religion from the mass of mankind, in- 
 dicated superior acuteness and information; and the other was 
 the worldly and grasping spirit of persons around him, who pro- 
 fessed a great delight in spiritual things, and talked much about 
 another world, and any trespasses against moral honesty or good 
 neighbourhood into which those who wore the form of godliness 
 might have fallen. And this admonishes the friends of religion 
 to see that their love to it abounds more and more, in all know- 
 ledge and in all judgement ; and to beware of every thing which 
 may give occasion to evil men to blaspheme that worthy name by 
 which they are called. 
 
 " It shows, too, the falsity of the assertion, that it is by the 
 gloomy dogmas of Calvin, and by its excessive austerities, that 
 men are led to take refuge in infidelity. Though the minister 
 under whose teaching the man sat for a time, shunned not to de- 
 clare the whole counsel of God, — it was his delight to exhibit the 
 Gospel as full of grace and truth, — to exhibit the beauty of the 
 
172 JUDICIAL INFATUATION. 
 
 Saviour, as meek, and gentle, and lowly in heart, — to show how 
 the graces of religion were the blessing of families, — how its 
 spirit was the impulse to integrity and mercy, — and how its pro- 
 mises were the solace of life's sorest evils, and a light in death's 
 darkest gloom, yet did he regard lying vanities, so as to forsake 
 his own mercy. 
 
 " And we are taught by this incident, how vain it is to ex- 
 pect awakening on a death-bed, and to indulge in error and ini- 
 quity, in the hope, that if we have done wrong, we shall be 
 roused to repent, and turn from it before we die. Often is that 
 threatening realized against those led away by the error of the 
 wicked, — ' I also will choose their delusions, because, when I 
 called, none did answer, when I spake they did not hear, but 
 they did evil before mine eyes, and chose that in which I de- 
 lighted not.' Let us then listen to the warning voice of Heaven : 
 ' Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from 
 the words of knowledge ; now the just shall live by faith, but if 
 any man di'aw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.' 
 Happy, happ5^ are they who, on good grounds, can say, ' But we 
 are not of those who draw back unto perdition, but of them that 
 believe to the saving of the soul.' " 
 
 In addition to those labours of the Christian ministry, 
 which we have noticed above, Dr Belfrage was a regular at- 
 tendant upon the Church Courts. He was seldom, if ever, 
 absent from a meeting of Synod ; and though he did not often 
 address the Court, yet he took a deep interest in all its pro- 
 ceedings. As a member of the Presbytery of Stirhng and 
 Falkirk, he was ever found at his post. He took a lead in 
 all its dehberations ; and, by the wisdom of his counsels, and 
 the mildness of his spirit, he tended, in no ordinary degree, 
 to promote its usefulness and respectability. For many years, 
 he officiated as clerk of the Presbytery ; and, by the kind and 
 impartial manner in which he discharged the duties of his 
 office, he secured the love and esteem of all his brethren. We 
 have only to add, in concluding this review of his ministerial 
 career, that his deportment, both in public and private, as a 
 minister of the Gospel, was most exemplary, — and that, by 
 
DESCRIPTIVE LINES FROM POLLOK. 173 
 
 manifestations of the truth, he commended himself to eveiy 
 man's conscience. In all things he approved himself as a 
 minister of God : — " By pureness, by knowledge, by long- 
 suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, 
 by the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armour of 
 righteousness on the right hand and on the left." 
 
 We know not whether Pollok, the Secession Bard, had 
 the subject of this Memoir in his eye, when he drew, in his 
 " Course of Time,"" the following pi<?ture of a faithful minis- 
 ter of the Gospel ; but, assuredly, there is to be found, in the 
 following lines, an exact counterpart of the character of 
 Henry Belfrage : — 
 
 " Sucli was his calling, his commission such. 
 Yet he was humble, kind, forgiving, meek ; 
 Easy to be entreated, gracious, mild ; 
 And, with all patience and affection, taiight, 
 Rebuked, persuaded, solaced, counselled, warned, 
 In fervent style and manner. Needy, poor, 
 And dying men, like music, heard his feet 
 Aj^proach tlieir beds ; and guilty wretches took 
 New hope, and in his prayers wept and smiled, 
 And blessed him, as they died forgiven ; and all 
 Saw in his face contentment, — in his life. 
 The patli to glory and perpetual joy." 
 
 :m: 
 
17-t 
 
 CHAPTEU VI 
 
 HIS DOMESTIC HABITS AND HIS CONDUCT AS A FRIEND. 
 
 Introductory Remarks. The Fii-eside of a Scottish Presbyterian 
 Pastor. The Secession Manse. The Manse at Falkirk. Respect 
 for the Memory of his Parents. His Fraternal Affection. Extracts 
 from Letters to Mrs Belfrage. His Conjugal Affection. His Pa- 
 rental Affection. His Remarks on the Loss of his First Child. 
 Letter intimating this Affliction. Birth of his Son. Baptism of his 
 Daughter. Dedication of his Family to God. His Easy and Com- 
 municative Disposition. Letters to his Sisters. Conduct in Society. 
 Domestic Habits. His Hours and Seasons for Study. His Cha- 
 ritable Spirit. Attachment to his Ministerial Friends and their 
 Families. Anecdote. Extracts from Letters to a Young Friend 
 in the Ministry. Letters to the Son of one of his deceased Brethren. 
 Letters to Mrs Waugh. Letter to one of Dr Waugh's Daughters. 
 His Excellency as a Friend, 
 
 In the life of a Christian minister, there is rarely much 
 variety of incident to attract public interest. His path hes 
 in the retirement of sacred duty ; it is his to adorn the shade ; 
 he exposes himself to suspicion when his high place is so 
 ostentatious as to gather around it the heterogeneous flatteries 
 of the men of the world. It is not easy to understand how 
 the men of the world can continue to be pleased with a 
 minister's performances, save at some expense, on his part, of 
 truth and faithfulness. There is, hoM^ever, a certain noto- 
 riety to which he may attain, unaffected by improper sus- 
 picions. The publicity, for instance, which such men as Dr 
 Belfrage acquire, is not of the world, having less of the no- 
 
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 175 
 
 tice of men, and chiefly the devout approbation of the pious. 
 It is promotion in their own sphere, rising above rehgious 
 consistency, and combining, in uniform excellence, the ele- 
 ments of " whatsoever things are pure, and lovely, and 
 honest, and of good report.'' This sphere, though retired, is 
 extensive, and commands numerous, and, indeed, splendid 
 occasions of reaching pre-eminent honours. Dr Belfrage 
 knew well how to seize upon such occasions ; and he has ac- 
 quired the praise of making usefulness in his own profession 
 the aim and ground of laborious exertion. He has thus be- 
 come one of those great men in Israel, whose " works praise 
 them in the gate." Eminence so attained, is not the mere 
 creature of contingent popularity, but it is the influence 
 maintained by the genuineness of worth, and of which the 
 applause of men is the oflspring, not the parent. The glory 
 of the sun draws to it our pious contemplations ; and though 
 the clouds should sometimes obscure its light, it still retains 
 its glory. We must look, then, for the causes of that great- 
 ness^ which is the prerogative of the good, in the hidden life 
 of the Christian, wherein operate those first principles, 
 which, from being created and regulated by Divine grace, 
 are occasionally evolved in those more illustrious virtues that 
 stand in a similar relation to the world which they adorn, as 
 such of the ligfhts of heaven which we see, do to the sable fir- 
 mament in which they roll. The character of Dr Belfrage, 
 as it was illustrated in the various excellencies of his public 
 and official life, has been am2)ly delineated in the preceding 
 chapters. We are now to contemplate him in the more 
 limited, though equally interesting walks of domestic retire- 
 ment, in which it will be found, that he lived under the 
 control of the same pure and elevated motives, and that the 
 excellencies which did appear to men, were the true and 
 lineal issues of a life spent with God, and devoted to the 
 pursuit and practice of undefiled religion, which in him, 
 " before God and the Father, icas this, to visit the fatherless 
 and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted 
 from the world.'' 
 
 M 2 
 
17G FIKESIDE OF A SCOTTISH PKESBYTERI AX PASTOR. 
 
 The home of Dr Belfi'cige was distinguished by all that 
 is peculiar to the fireside of a Scottish Presbyterian pastor. 
 In the words of an elegant writer,* " to him, home was at 
 once the scene of repose and activity, where he was the sun 
 of a little system, the movements of which his influence 
 controlled.^' The manse was full of charms to his kind 
 nature, and he associated with it the best and holiest scenes 
 of his life. He was born in the manse, — he was trained 
 under its roof, — and the fine and full features of his entire 
 character were formed and developed under its mild and holy 
 discipline. It w^as here that he was taught to relish so 
 highly the pleasures of domestic life. The father's house 
 had been the Bethel at whose altar the son had vowed to 
 serve his father's God ; and when he himself became the 
 head of a family, he continued to " bless his household" and 
 his people, by enforcing the doctrines he had been taught, 
 and by exhibiting in his life the deportment of a Christian 
 minister which had been set before him from his earliest 
 days. To his training in the manse, indeed, the world is 
 indebted for his chief excellencies ; for there the embryo ele- 
 ments were moulded, and wrought up into those fair propor- 
 tions which have long distinguished him as the model of a 
 Presbyterian clergyman. As the Scottish manse is so in- 
 timately connected with the name and worth of Dr Belfrage, 
 it may be proper, in passing, to give a short outline of what 
 is peculiar in its domestic economy. 
 
 It is to be lamented, that genius should have debased 
 itself in describing the interior of the manse as the scene of 
 crime and hypocrisy. We would by no means affirm that 
 the dw^ellings of our Presbyterian pastors are in every case 
 the abodes of unimpeachable purity and honour, but we are 
 safe in accounting any departure from the strictest rules of 
 virtue, as an exception to their general moral and religious 
 excellence. The true estimate of their character must be 
 taken from the righteous lives of such men as Dr Belfrage, 
 and never from the impure and disgusting descriptions of the 
 
 * Hannah More. 
 
THE SECESSION MANSE. HT 
 
 novelist. A Scottish pastor's fireside, associates with itseh 
 all that is sacred in religion and estimable in humanity. It 
 is exactly the place where the principles of the one can be 
 firmly rooted in the heart, and where the benevolence of the 
 other, put under the wisest control, is regulated by the 
 liberal descriminations of Christian charity. The rank 
 which the Scottish pastor holds in society, is highly favour- 
 able to the impartial distribution of ministerial superintend- 
 ence. But in defining particularly the rank of the Seceding 
 pastors ^ it may be said that it is just high enough to secure 
 the civil attentions of the more opulent, without being so 
 elevated as to create a palpable separation between them and 
 the humbler classes of the people, out of which their congre- 
 gations are in general formed. They stand as connecting 
 links between these extremities ; and Vv^ithout belonging ex- 
 clusively to either, are claimed as in some measure kindred 
 to both. Their incomes are for the most part small, being- 
 sufficient to render secular traffic unnecessary, but so limited 
 as to recpiire the strictest economy, and an unassuming mode 
 of life. Indeed, the comfort, respectability, and even humble 
 elegance which appear in almost all the manses of the Se- 
 cession, are truly remarkable, and have often excited the 
 surprise of the observer. The manners of the pastors are 
 grave, without lacking complacency, and their habits frugal, 
 though easy and comfortable. To this state of things may 
 be traced, the not inconsiderable influence which they have 
 over the moral and economical habits of their people ; for by 
 it they are in some degree assimilated to each other, while it 
 peculiarly fits them for exemplifying the sterner virtues of 
 that godliness which, " with contentment, is great gain." 
 This is as it should bo. In the manse should be seen, in 
 full operation, the principles enforced from the pulpit ; and 
 to the credit of the Seceding ministers of Scotland it ought 
 to be admitted, that this is, in general, true of them. Their 
 homes are the dwelling-places of amiable sentiments and 
 Christian affections. The relative virtues of domestic life 
 are there held in notable repute. There, the altar of God i.^s 
 
178 THE MANSE AT FALKIRK. 
 
 constantly established ; and upon it are laid, every morning 
 and evening, tlie sacrifices of family devotion. It is when 
 surrounding that altar with his household, that the venerable 
 servant of God secures the reverence as well as the love of 
 his children, and the love as w^ell as the obedience of his ser- 
 vants. By constantly breathing the pure atmosphere of this 
 domestic piety, he is, perhaps, the better fitted for wielding, 
 with expertness and success, the weapons with which he 
 fights as a good soldier of the cross. The savour of his reli- 
 gion at home, thus becomes life not only to the souls of that 
 smaller circle of which he is the centre, but also to the dif- 
 ferent families of that more extensive sphere within which 
 he is the " guide, and counsellor, and friend."' 
 
 It is no insignificant emblem of the union that exists be- 
 tween Christ and the Church, when the flock is animated to 
 the various duties of Christianity, by observing the consist- 
 ent practices of the pastor's fireside, and when their response 
 rises in a sincere amen to the songs and prayers of the shep- 
 herd. It is interesting thus to reflect upon the share which 
 the manse may have had in the preservation of that moral 
 feeling, which is peculiarly strong among our own country- 
 men. Perhaps we have here a key to the just appreciation 
 of the virtuous habits of the peasantry ; for it seems but just 
 to ascribe these as much to the pastor's strict exemplification, 
 as to his orthodox expositions, of Christian truth. 
 
 Amid such scenes, Dr Belfrage was nurtured ; and hence 
 his delight in the recreations, and his finished performance 
 of the duties, of the Clause of Falkirk. Hallowed by the 
 recollections of his parents, who had passed their days and 
 closed their lives within its walls, his chief gratification w^as 
 to perpetuate and preside over a similar system of domestic 
 arrangements ; so that no interruption came to the solemn 
 devotions of the household, though its honoured heads were 
 removed by death ; — their faith and holiness lived anew in 
 the hearts and lives of their children, to whom Henry be- 
 came at once minister and parent. He loved to study the 
 deep things of God, in the same room where his father had 
 
CONJUGAL AFFECTION. 179 
 
 meditated, and to pay his vows surrounded by objects which 
 reminded him of a mother's piety and affection. This was 
 his prayer, — " Where her piety burned, let not mine be 
 cold ; where her penitence wept, let not my heart be care- 
 less ; and where her compassion relieved, let not my bowels 
 be shut."* To his widowed mother he was, in truth, a son 
 of consolation, and, as has been already noticed, he continued 
 to watch over and honour her to the last. The deep impres- 
 sion which her death made upon his mind, will be beauti- 
 fidly illustrated, when, in another chapter, we present our 
 readers w^ith his annual meditations upon the evening of the 
 anniversary of her death. So far from diminishing his aftec- 
 tion for his sisters, the removal of their parent bound them 
 all more closely together ; — cherishing their memory, he be- 
 came, to the end of his own life, the shield and protector of 
 their orphan children. His attachment to them was truly 
 great and lovely ; and it was ever to him an important duty, 
 either to contribute to their happiness, or, when affliction 
 darkened their dwelling-place, to bind up their wounded 
 hearts, and wipe away the tear from their eyes. When he 
 left the old manse, to reside in the house he had built in 
 Rose Park, he made no farther alteration in his domestic ha- 
 bits, than what was consequent upon his entering the mar- 
 riage state. He w^as as attentive as he had ever been to the 
 surviving members of his father's family, whom he continued 
 to cheer by his society, and improve by his counsels. If he 
 had been a dutiful son, and an affectionate brother, he nov/ 
 became an attached and faithful husband. The following 
 extracts from letters written to Mrs Belfrage, will demon- 
 strate at once the sincerity of his affections, and his admir- 
 able fitness to adorn the married life. 
 
 '' May 6, 1828 " I received, on Friday night, a letter from the 
 
 Editors of the Evangelical Magazine, thanking me, in terms which 
 I do not deserve, for my humble aid to their work, and requesting 
 me, as the result of their unanimous resolution of the 1 9th May, to 
 permit my name to be enrolled among them, in the place of the 
 * Dr Belfragc's " Incense of Youth." 
 
ISO EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS TO MRS RELFRAGE. 
 
 beloved Dr Waiigli. My heart is affected with this expression of 
 kindness, and with the idea of being singled out to take the part 
 in this work, sustained by one whose memory I so fondly cher- 
 ish. It was at Dr Waugh's request, that all my papers were 
 sent. ' Henry, my good lad, mind the widows,' was the hint that 
 always roused me ; and I have this pleasing reflection, that an 
 excellent person, and her familj^, have for several years received 
 L. o annuall}^, for my contributions. I lectured yesterday on the 
 two last verses of the 8th chapter of the Romans, ' For I am per- 
 suaded,' &c. Most earnest have been my wishes and prayers, 
 that the love of Christ may for ever rest on you, in all its power, 
 in all its sweetness, and in all its blessings. In the afternoon, I 
 preached from Isaiah, 33d chapter and 17th verse, and I cherished 
 the hope, that you and I will go hand in hand in the way to the 
 better country, glowing with the same spirit, conducted by the 
 same guide, and looking for the same mercy. We have both of 
 lis friends in heaven, longing for our arrival, and that we may 
 happily reach it, I trust our Redeemer is now praying. That 
 sweet hope is suggested by his own words, ' Father, I will that 
 they also whom Thou hast given me, be with me where I am, 
 that they may behold my glory, which Thou hast given me ; for 
 Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world.' 
 
 " With my most earnest washes, that a redeeming God may 
 for ever be your hope and your joy, I am,'' &c. &c. 
 
 " Rose Park, July 4. 1826. 
 
 " I rejoice with you at our young friend's deliverance, and I 
 pray that God may strengthen what He has wrought for her. I 
 trust you have not suffered by your kind ministrations. ' With 
 the merciful, God will show himself merciful.' I finished my lec- 
 tures, yesterday, on the 8th chapter of Romans, the two last 
 verses. I will give you my concluding sentence : — In reviewing 
 this chapter, how sublime does it appear in doctrine, how fervent 
 in piety, how rich in comfort, how bright in hopes ! The expe- 
 rience of this chapter is heaven in ordinances, heaven in dut}^, 
 heaven in sufferings, heaven in death. ' Happy is the people that 
 is in such a case ; yea, happj^ is the people whose God is the 
 Lord.' Most earnestly do I wish for you, my beloved friend, all 
 
EXTllACTS FROM LETTERS TO MRS RELFRAGE. 181 
 
 its consolations, and all its hopes. In the afternoon, I preached 
 a second sermon on Seeking the Lord, with a special application 
 to the Lord's Supper." 
 
 " Rose ParJi, 22,d July. 
 
 " Dr Dick came on Friday. I lectured on the Sabbath fore- 
 noon, from the 9th chapter of Genesis. Dr Dick preached for 
 nie in the afternoon, on regeneration ; and in the evening, in the 
 parish church, the annual sermon for our Cliarity School, on that 
 text, ' Come, ye children, hearken unto me ; I will teach you the 
 fear of the Lord.' It was a beautiful discourse, and enforced, in 
 a very impressive manner, the importance of religious knowledge 
 and principle to the young. His eloquence is calm, but mild and 
 pleasing. The church was well filled, and the collection hand- 
 some." 
 
 " September 4, 1828 — I see by the papers to-day, that Dr 
 Campbell is dead. He has been long laid aside from public duty, 
 and time must have hung heavy upon his hands. I have often 
 thought it a great privilege granted to some good men, that their 
 life and their usefulness have closed together ; and, like the sun, 
 shining bright till it sets." 
 
 " September 1 8, 1 828 — Yesterday I finished my illustration of 
 the prayer, ' Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief.' I dwelt 
 especially on the encouragements which we have in the grace of 
 our Lord to direct to him that request ; I said, ' human pity is 
 oft without power to relieve, and weeps most bitterly when the 
 case is desperate. Its tears fall in vain on the v/ithering rose of 
 youthful beauty ; its sobs enter not the cold urn of death ; but 
 Jesus hath all power in heaven and earth, and can fully execute 
 whatever is prompted by compassion.' " 
 
 " August 1831.— I then went and visited an old woman, en- 
 tered upon her ninetieth year, who was prayed for on Sabbath. 
 I was much affected by the lines of psalms she repeated to me ; 
 and, when she lifted up her withered hands, and said, ' I am 
 trusting in Christ ; I am an old helpless sinner, but He is able to 
 save to the uttermost.' O the power of religion, which can thus 
 bless in poverty, in frailty, and in death. How bright in the 
 darkest iiour of nature." 
 
 '« April 30, 1832. — In my lecture yesterday on the cry of 
 the souls under the altar, and the ansvrer made to it, there was a 
 
182 EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS TO MRS BELFRAGE. 
 
 thought on which I dwelt, tliat the good in heaven are led to ex- 
 pect new additions to their society, and that their reunion with 
 those of their friends they have left behind, is promised to them 
 by their Redeemer, as a part of their happiness. O how gracious 
 is that Saviour who thus gives eternity to the friendship of the 
 good. Even the song of the Lamb will seem sweeter when sung 
 with those we love, and the brightness of eternal day more en- 
 rapturing, when we walk with them in its light. 
 
 " Among other sick to-day that I saw, was a young wife in 
 consumption. She was sitting up in bed, pale and feeble, and a 
 lovely child, of a year old, was sitting on the bed beside her. 
 She seemed to feel she was dying ; was eager to be led into the 
 way of salvation ; and the looks she gave to her infant, and the 
 contrast between her tears and the prattle of the child, were most 
 affecting. And now may the Redeeming Angel of the Cove- 
 nant watch over you, and strengthen, and gladden you. In his 
 care may you daily rejoice, and in his salvation may you be for 
 ever happy." 
 
 " September 1, 1832. — To-morrow I lecture in Genesis, on 
 Joseph's marriage. I shall give you one note : — ' Blessed is that 
 home over which God presides, which heaven fills, which reli- 
 gion sanctifies, and which wisdom guides. In such a home the 
 heart alone can rest.' And now, may the peace of God, the mercy 
 of the Redeemer, and the rich and sweet consolations of the Holy 
 Ghost, be with you continually." 
 
 The pure and ardent affection which breathes from these 
 extracts (all that delicacy permits us to give), was prolonged 
 to the end of his days. Nothing could exceed the delicate 
 kindness of his attentions to his amiable partner ; and it is 
 but proper to state, that in her, he met with one ever ready 
 to minister to his happiness, who appreciated his many and 
 peculiar excellencies, encouraged him in all his schemes of 
 usefulness and charity, and cordially mingled her ow^i feel- 
 ings and sentiments, with the piety and devotion of his life. 
 The best balm for her afflicted spirit, must be in the reflec- 
 tion, that, while he lived, she was favoured of God to felici- 
 tate the lot of His servant, and crown his last days with the 
 blessings and sympathies of domestic life. They who are 
 
HIS PARENTAL AFFECTION. 183 
 
 acquainted with the writings of Dr Belfrage, and especially 
 with such of them as are intended for the young, need not 
 be told, that his was a nature replete with parental aiFec- 
 tions. His love for his own children had all the peculiarities 
 which characterized his interest in the young. Many were 
 the prayers he breathed over their infant heads ; and, if it 
 had pleased God to spare him till they had reached maturity, 
 he would no doubt have trained them sedulously to fear God, 
 and merited in this, as he has done in other respects, the 
 praise of the patriarch Abraham, " For I know him, that he 
 will command his children, and his household after him, and 
 they shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and judge- 
 ment." His two little ones have been bereaved of their pa- 
 rent ere they could know his worth, or receive the benefit of 
 his instructions ; but we trust the God before whom their 
 father did w^alk, will take them up, and make them a bless- 
 ing to their widowed mother, and at last receive them into 
 Heaven, to perfect that communion with their father, which, 
 on earth, had scarcely dawned, ere it set in the darkness of 
 the tomb. 
 
 The yearnings of parental love, regulated by the devout 
 resignation of the Christian, are evinced in the follow^ing re- 
 marks, which were penned by him on the death of his first 
 child, which happened immediately upon its birth : — 
 
 " In looking at such a babe, nature is apt to murmur, where- 
 fore hast thou made this creature in vain ? But is there not an- 
 other world in which it has a place, and where it shall live for 
 ever. There are plants so tender as to be unfit for the most 
 sheltered spot under our inclement sky; and God, in mercy, 
 takes them at once to Paradise. It is one of the wonders which 
 Heaven will declare, how such babes were made vessels of mercy, 
 and prepared for glory. 
 
 " If it is the fii'st death in the family, let us endeavour so to 
 profit by it as to be prepared for the next ; for another and an- 
 other will come. After the first chills of autumn, when the leaves 
 begin to fall, you feel, as you mark them on the ground, how 
 soon the greenest branch above shall be stripped bare, and shall 
 
184 REMARKS ON THE LOSS OF HIS FIRST CHILD. 
 
 you not feel that for you there is no abiding, and learn to die 
 daily ? In such events, our Christian character is tried. Thus 
 God tries our resignation to his will. This is a most difficult 
 part of Christian duty. Submit yourselves, therefore, to God, is 
 a lesson which it is good for us to learn ; and to be able to say, 
 ' The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the 
 name of the Lord.' 
 
 " Let the parent, while engaged in committing to the grave, 
 in darkness and secrecy, his lifeless infant, hear the voice that 
 speaks to him amidst the solemn silence, ' Be still and know that 
 I am God.' Let him remember that there is one eye upon him, 
 which seeth in secret, and which looketh upon the heart. Let 
 the prayer of faith arise, which lifts the heart from the dust to 
 Heaven. Good men have felt, in such sad offices of love and 
 duty, that of such a lonely spot, and such a lonely hour, God 
 blessed them there." 
 
 The disappointment of his hopes, at this time, deeply 
 affected him ; and the trial was aggravated by the severe ill- 
 ness of his wife. The voice of murmuring, however, w^as 
 never once heard in his dwelling. Though he committed to 
 the dust this object of his affection, late on a Saturday even- 
 ing, he preached on the Sabbath following, in his usual man- 
 lier ; and the holy and humble expressions of his submission 
 to the will of God, were deeply affecting. The following 
 extract from a letter, written after this trial, will be read 
 Avith interest : — 
 
 " The power of religion was most strikingly shown in her 
 (Mrs B.), looking to the Lord in all her affliction, and in the re- 
 signation with which slie bore the loss of her babe, which died in 
 coming into the world. She meekly said, ' The Lord gave, and 
 the Ijord taketli away, blessed be the name of the Lord.' She is 
 recovering slowly, but I trust surel}^ ; and she will experience the 
 kind support of that Hand wliich hath redeemed her life from 
 destruction. She weeps when she speaks of her babe ; but they 
 are tears of tenderness : and, while they are shedding, she ])lesses 
 God for opening the kingdom of Heaven to little children, and 
 for tlie liopo that her infant is there. 
 
BIRTH OF HIS SON. 185 
 
 " You will easily conceive what a season of anxiety it has 
 been to me. I have endeavoured to look to the hope of Israel, 
 and to the Saviour thereof, in the time of trouble ; and every 
 feeling of disappointment is sv>^allowed up in gratitude to Him 
 who has saved to me a life so dear. I preached the whole day 
 on Sabbath. I was luckily prepared early in the week, and God 
 made his grace sufficient for me. Let us have your prayers, my 
 dear friend, that my beloved wife may be strengthened and com- 
 forted, and that this dispensation may be sanctified for our good. 
 The Lord has made you to pass through many a trying scene 
 in your family ; but his consolations have not been small with 
 you ; and I pray God that you may receive an increasing anoint- 
 ing of the Holy One, for the joy of your own heart, and for the 
 light and the happiness of your people. 
 
 '* Remember me kindly to Mrs H and your daughters. 
 
 Long may the voice of rejoicing and salvation be heard in your 
 dwelling ; and may our long and intimate friendship continue to 
 bless us to the close of life, and be followed by eternal associa- 
 tions in the presence and joy of our common Lord and Saviour." 
 
 " Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the 
 upright in heart." In June 1883, a son was born to him. 
 If, on the former occasion, he had to drink the cup of dis- 
 appointment, that which was presented to him now was not 
 wholly a cup of joy. With the birth of his son came the 
 death of his sister Mary. He thus alludes to these two 
 events in a letter to the widow of the late Dr Waugh, of 
 London : — 
 
 " Rose Park, June 19, 1833. 
 
 " My Dear Madam, — As I know the kind interest you have 
 always taken in my friends and myself, I feel myself called upon 
 to write you as to the death of my sister Mary and the birth of 
 my son. In these mixed dispensations of sorrow and of joy, we 
 desire to recognize the hand of God, and to rejoice with tremb- 
 ling. 
 
 " My sister Mary was long indisposed ; and though at times 
 she suffered severely, she was singularly patient and resigned, 
 and was blessed with a peace and hope which never failed her. 
 
186 BAPTISM OF HIS DAUGHTER. 
 
 Her sisters feel the breach in the domestic circle very much ; 
 but the consolations of God are not small with them, and to a 
 loving Redeemer they look in hope, as to His mercy to themselves 
 and to the resurrection of the just. It is delightful to think of 
 what your much-loved husband used to call Christ's gathering- 
 day, when the pious and the good shall be reunited in love and 
 joy made perfect, and dwell for ever together in a home which 
 no evil can reach, and where no separation can be known. 
 
 " Wliile I know you will kindly sympathize with such feel- 
 ings, I am sure you will bless God with me for his great good- 
 ness to this dwelling. Mrs Belfrage was not long ill ; and she 
 blesses, with lively gratitude, the softening and sustaining hand 
 of the Father of Mercies. The little youngster is lively, healthy, 
 and remarkably good tempered. Mrs Belfrage expects to be 
 able to come down stairs in the course of next week. She wishes 
 and prays that her little" boy may be blessed with the spirit and 
 image of Christ, and feels, that in his being a holy child, she will 
 find her best reward for all her cares. 
 
 " I heard from Mrs H last week, and was glad to learn 
 
 from her that you enjoy some measure of health. I trust that 
 God will, by the light of His mercy and kindness, continue to 
 brighten the evening of your day ; and that when He calls you to 
 himself, He will give you a gentle dismission from earth, and a 
 joyful welcome to Heaven, where you will find many friends 
 waiting to receive you into everlasting habitations, and one be- 
 loved above them all." 
 
 As an affecting instance of the fervent piety which he 
 infused into all his domestic providences, and of the devont 
 recognition of the Father of Mercies in the discharge of his 
 parental duties, we give the following meditation, which he 
 wrote on the morning of the day on which his infant daugh- 
 ter was baptized. The grace and delicacy of this dedication 
 of his family to God are truly impressive : — 
 
 ''Morning, October 23, 1834 — This day, O Father of Mer- 
 cies, I am to present to Thee, in baptism, my infant daughter. In 
 thy grace and love, O look on her, and pour upon her thy Spirit 
 to make her holy, and thy blessing to make her happy ; O, say, 
 
DEDICATION OF HIS FAMILY TO GOD. 187 
 
 I will be a Father to thee. Lamb of God, imbue her with thy 
 meek and gentle spirit. I wish her, above all things, thy own 
 image, — a place in thy bosom and heart, — in thy care and salva- 
 tion. Let her, in thy mercy, pass sweetly and safely through 
 the helplessness of infancy, and through every after period of 
 life, and be, in thy good time, received into the kingdom and 
 house of her Father. Wash her in thine own blood, and write 
 the name of Jesus on her heart. 
 
 " For thy sweet mercy to our darling boy, I would bless thee 
 with my whole heart. While we rejoice in his health of body, 
 and in his faculties and kind affections opening so delightfully, 
 we would recognise in this the watchfulness of thy care and thy 
 condescending kindness. O make him, in all respects, what he 
 should be ; and, like the Holy Child, whom we wish him to love 
 above all, may he increase in wisdom and stature, and in favour 
 with God and man. Make him a credit to the name he bears, 
 and a rich, rich blessing to his parents' hearts. 
 
 " May the mother, wdth whom thou has dealt so bountifully, 
 continue to share the exceeding riches of thy grace. Betroth her 
 to thyself for ever ; and may Emmanuel God with her be the 
 light of all her steps, the guardian of all her interests, the com- 
 forter of all her griefs, — and, O, rejoice over her to do her good 
 and bless her. 
 
 " Warned as I have been, that these infants may soon be 
 fatherless, I would look to thee for grace to sanctify me wholly, 
 and to give me fitness, comfort, hope, and mercy, for, and in all 
 that may befal me. Under thy wings, O Everlastirig Father, I 
 would place these infants ; and may the God before whom my 
 father did walk, and the Angel who has redeemed me from all 
 evil, and who has fed me all my life long to this day, bless them, 
 now and ever, and beautify them with thy salvation. To thee I 
 would dedicate all that may remain of life to me ; let not a mo- 
 ment be lost to piety. To me to live let it be Christ, and to die 
 gain ; for Christ's sake. Amen." 
 
 Domestic piety has had fev^ lovelier examples than those 
 which might be taken from the life of Dr Belfrage. The 
 sentiments and feelings exhibited in these extracts, are rarely 
 entrusted even to the friend of the heart, but are reserved. 
 
188 EASY AND COJIMUKICATIVE DlSrOSITIOX. 
 
 perhaps too scrii])iiloiisly, to be breathed, only in the most 
 solemn moments, in the ear of Jehovah. They are unfolded 
 here, to make known the beautiful harmony that existed be- 
 tween the public instructions and the secret godliness of the 
 subject of this Memoir. It has been said by persons under 
 the rod of affliction, or the stroke of adversity, that, while 
 themselves untried, it is easy for ministers to discourse upon 
 the duty of humbly acquiescing in the will of God. It is 
 true the hour of trial brings to the test the best professions, 
 and proves that some may be rigid in enforcing the duty of 
 resignation, who cannot themselves exemplify it. Of Dr 
 Belfrage this cannot be said. No man could be more im- 
 pressed than he v» as, with a sense of the Divine sovereignty, 
 and with the conviction that the equanimity and resignation 
 of the Christian under the rod, are never better sustained 
 than by the firm belief that " all things work together for 
 their good who love God." So uniform, indeed, was the 
 holy influence of religion upon his heart, that little external 
 difference could be observed upon him, either in the season 
 of joy, or in the hour of grief You behold this good man 
 in the same attitude of profound adoration, whether he stands 
 in the silence and darkness of the night, over the grave of 
 his first born ; or, in the happier light of the morning, dedi- 
 cates, at the baptismal font, his infant daughter to the care 
 and service of the benevolent Creator. 
 
 It may be thought that, from the serious nature of his 
 studies, and the peculiarly solemn character of his writings, 
 Dr Belfrage would not be an inviting or cheerful companion. 
 Such a thought is injurious to the blissful tendency of a re- 
 ligious life. Of Dr Belfrage, it may be said, that he spent 
 his life in the " ways of pleasantness,'' and " in the paths of 
 peace." He was happy in himself, and he loved to contri- 
 bute to the happiness of all around him. He cordially en- 
 joyed the society of his friends, whether he met with them 
 abroad, or under his own hospitable roof He was amused 
 by the sallies of innocent wit, and not unfrequently indulged 
 himself in a little pleasant raillery with his more intimate 
 friends. He greatly delighted in lively conversation, though 
 
EASY AND COMMUNICATIVE DISPOSITION. 189 
 
 he sometimes exhibited signs of impatience under the length- 
 ened infliction of a prosing visitor. He was at all times easy 
 of access ; and, when any of his family entered the library, 
 even though deeply absorbed in study, he received them 
 with a smile of welcome ; laid aside his book or his pen ; and, 
 with some good humoured remark, persuaded them of his 
 delight in their presence. He even condescended to notice 
 to them the particular subject which he was premeditating 
 for the Sabbath, or alluded to the work which he might be 
 preparing for the press. Nothing, indeed, could be more 
 winning than was his kindly communicativeness to his friends. 
 Some, less gifted than he was, and with less reason to act 
 the part of the recluse, have thought that it enhanced their 
 importance and worth to wrap themselves in the garb of 
 austerity, and commune with their spirits alone, as if con- 
 descending familiarity at the fireside conferred too much 
 honour upon those whom they should regard incapable of 
 sympathizing with them in their intellectual pursuits. This 
 is a poor compliment to those who have the best claims on 
 their respect, and defrauds them of the opportunities for men- 
 tal improvement, which, from their free and domestic char- 
 acter, are perhaps the best fitted to excite and cultivate the 
 understanding. Reserve and distrust among the members 
 of one household, endanger the ties of family union, by ren- 
 dering it necessary for the inmates to seek that communion 
 abroad, which should have made home the centre of social 
 attractions, and by leading them to waste the loveliest sym- 
 pathies of our nature upon the unprofitable and suspicious 
 fellowship of the world. On the other hand, wherever there 
 is the nourishment of generous and confiding intercourse, 
 there the domestic affections, even in somewhat unfavourable 
 circumstances, are strengthened and kept alive. '' A do- 
 mestic society, bound together by these principles, can retire, 
 as it were, from the haunts of men, and retreat within a 
 sanctuary where the storms of the world cannot enter. When 
 thus met in the interchange of mutual affection and mutual 
 confidence, they present the anticipation of that period, when. 
 
190 LETTERS TO HIS SISTESS. 
 
 after the tumults of life are over, they shall meet again, no 
 wanderer lost, a family in heaven/' * 
 
 The follovfing extracts from letters to his sisters, though 
 simple in themselves, will illustrate the free and open temper 
 of Dr Belfrage, and show that he could unbend to win the 
 aifection of the heart, as well as the tribute of the judge- 
 ment : — 
 
 " Falkirk, December 30, 1819. 
 
 " My Dear J , — I hope you have caught no cold since 
 
 you went to Edinburgh, and that you feel yourself comfortable. 
 We often think upon you, and especially when I come dov/n at 
 night I miss you. I hope that you will live near to God, and 
 that He will give you all the wisdom, and grace, and comfort that 
 
 you may stand in need of. We are all quite well, and B 
 
 exerts herself to amuse me very much when I am tired, and when 
 I come home at night fatigued with my labours. Yesterday was 
 one of my heaviest days ; but I never saw a more beautiful vdnter 
 day, and it rendered my task pleasing. I have been preaching 
 all the four Sabbaths of December, on Ecclesiastes, 12th chapter 
 and 1st verse. I handled it in a way to make it interesting to 
 all ; and last Sabbath I said a good deal about the unfitness of old 
 age to begin the culture of piety, and the consolations which re- 
 ligion must give in the evil days. You will hear from W 
 
 my account of the funeral of your cousin Jane R She v/as 
 
 very amiable and good. 
 
 " Your sisters have got Ivanhoe. We have read the first 
 volume. It is quite in the style of Marmion and Rokeby ; and 
 the character of a Jewess that is drawn in it, is exquisitely 
 finished. We had a Jew in our church one day lately ; he had 
 come from Liverpool. I lectured, in the forenoon, on the first 
 eight verses of the 90th Psalm ; he was much pleased with it. 
 In the afternoon, I preached on the centurion's testimony at the 
 cross, Mark xv. 39 ; but he prol^ably found this not so palatable, 
 and wished to resist the conviction it was exciting, for it was 
 observed by the family he was with, that he was employed all 
 the time of the sermon in turning over his Bil>le, and reading 
 places here and there in it. It is melancholy to think on the ob- 
 
 * Dr Abercrombie on the Moral Feelinfrs. 
 
LETTERS TO HIS SISTERS. 191 
 
 stinacy of their prejudices in that course of unbelief, which has 
 entailed such misery on their nation." 
 
 " Falkirk, Fehruary 18, 1820. 
 
 " My Dear E , — I was much gratified by your letter to- 
 day, it was so very good, and so very kind. I have been very 
 anxious about you, but God has taken care of you, and will con- 
 tinue to do it. I have wearied very much for you here ; yet, if 
 you are well and happy in Edinburgh, I will bear it the better. 
 I will be in Edinburgh in three weeks, if I go to Slateford, to see 
 you. I am much pleased with my uncle's picture. We will hang 
 it in the drawing-room, below mine. I have sent, with this, a 
 letter of thanks to my aunt. I have been very busy with my 
 public labours since you left us. After my visiting Lauriston, 
 
 on Friday, I went to , to marry the two Misses . 
 
 The bridegrooms are two merchants in Falkirk. I gave the vow 
 to the oldest first. I was obliged to stay supper, and came 
 home very tired, in the first chaise. When visiting Stenhouse 
 Muir, I was in Sir William's. The family are in Edinburgh. 
 The servants, who have the charge of the house, are my people. 
 There are a great many good rooms in it. I saw the pictures of 
 all the notable persons in the family, huddled into a corner. 
 What was once gazed on with interest and delight, is noAv left to 
 dust and the moth." 
 
 " Falkirk, Fehruarij, 1820. 
 
 " My Dear J , — I was very much pleased with your 
 
 kind letter to-day. I am happy to say that this morning, when 
 I awoke, I found the pain and stiffness almost gone. I am quite 
 easy now, and I hope will not be troubled with it again. I gave 
 my lecture on the 82d Psalm, last Sabbath. I have prepared a 
 sermon for next Sabbath, * on Isaiah vi. 1 ; ' In the year that King 
 Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne high and lifted 
 up, and his train filled the temple.' It is curious, that Uzziah 
 reigned longest of any of the kings of Judah, and that he was 
 shut up from the world some years before he died, and his son 
 managed the kingdom for him. 
 
 " was mentioning, that Dr Dick, whom he heard 
 
 last Sabbath, preached on that text in the Lamentations, iv. 20 ; 
 * George III. died about tliis time. 
 
 X 2 
 
19^ CONDUCT IN SOCIETY. 
 
 ' The breath of our nostrils, tlie anointed of the Lord was taken 
 in their pits, of whom we said, under his shadow we shall live 
 among the heathen." 
 
 When Dr Belfrage mingled in society, he equally main- 
 tained polite attention and self respect. He never lost sight 
 of his office. When he relaxed, he was wisely cautious of 
 that unbecoming levity which might lessen upon his family 
 or his people the influence of the pastoral character. It was 
 never forgotten, in his presence, that he was a minister of 
 the Gospel. In him were happily blended, the dignity of 
 the upright and the gentleness of the meek, so that, while 
 his displeasure was feared, his good opinion was steadily cul- 
 tivated. A stranger might have thought this feature in his 
 character as indicative of high-mindedness, or, it may be, of 
 a haughty temper. They never knew Dr Belfrage who 
 could put such an uncharitable construction upon the dignity 
 of his external deportment. He never made any but the 
 immoral feel inferiority in his presence. He was often found 
 paying the most polite attention to those whom he might 
 have neglected to notice, without incurring any displeasure ; 
 and so far was he from supposing that such complacent fa- 
 miliarity detracted from his influence, or cast a stain on his 
 love of letters, that he rather sought in it to give the best 
 impression of the amiable tendency of sacred literature, and 
 to foster a love of the truth, by maintaining, as one of its 
 disciples, the meekness and lowliness of the great Master. 
 Acting upon this rule, he never carried the reserve of the 
 student into the parlour, or before the public, but sought to 
 preserve the safe and pleasant medium, wherein the full 
 credit of his piety might be sustained amid the pleasantness 
 and peace of its shining path. 
 
 In his domestic habits, Dr Belfrage was remarkably 
 frugal of his time. The account which has been given, in 
 another part of this biography, of the variety and number of 
 his labours, is sufficiently demonstrative of this. He dis- 
 approved of visits of mere ceremony, and accounted a day so 
 
HOURS AND SKAbONS I'Oll STUDY. 
 
 198 
 
 spent a total loss. To every day he apportioned its peculiar 
 duties. His pastoral labours and pulpit preparations filled 
 up the most of the week. Upon Saturday he generally 
 composed his lecture, and mandated both it and the sermon 
 he had previously written for the Sabbath afternoon. He 
 devoted the months of spring and autumn to the improve- 
 ment of his mind in general reading, and to the preparing ot 
 his works for the press. To this latter branch of labour he 
 frequently devoted five days in the week, and ten hours each 
 day These, however, were among his happiest days. He 
 certainly did sometimes complain of the immense fatigue of 
 writing over his works for the press. In most cases, as has 
 been stated in the preceding chapter, he did this three t^^^^^^. 
 which produced extreme exhaustion, so that he was wont to 
 say " this more than any other labour grinded down a man s 
 strmgthr In these seasons, he used to walk out for exer- 
 cise between dinner and tea ; and if the inclemency of the 
 weather prevented this, he sought relaxation in lighter read- 
 incr or in cheerful conversation. Had it not been for the 
 careful manner in which he thus husbanded his time, it 
 would have been impossible for him to have performed such 
 an amount of useful and laborious exertion for the interests 
 of pure and undefiled religion. The portions of his time 
 which were devoted to private and family devotion, will be 
 noticed in a subsequent chapter. en -p ^ 
 
 There is one feature in the domestic character of Dr IjcI- 
 frac^e which demands especial notice, because it was studious- 
 ly hid from the world, viz. the deep interest which he took 
 in the case of the poor and the destitute. Some have bee« 
 so uncharitable, as to doubt concerning the extent of his 
 Christian beneficence. His charity, however, was not the 
 less extensive from his quiet and unostentatious mode o. dis- 
 tributintr it. The portion of his income which he allotted to 
 this pu^ose was very great. The lamentation caused by 
 his death has ehcited expressions of gratitude from numbers 
 whose necessities he had relieved, and has partially raised 
 the veil which modesty had hung over the benevolence of 
 
194 HIS CHAllITABLE SPIEIT. 
 
 his life. It was his custom, for instance, when he went out 
 to visit either the sick, or any particular district of his con- 
 gregation, to carry with him a sum of money ; and he seldom 
 returned home but with an empty purse. In taking leave 
 of the sick or destitute, he would shake them kindly by the 
 hand, placing a piece of money in theirs as he withdrew his 
 own. Of Christian charity, indeed, he had very strict notions, 
 regarding it as by no means optional, but a bounden duty ; and 
 that he might impress it by practical lessons on the hearts of 
 his family, he occasionally made them accompany him in his 
 visits of mercy, and allowed them to be his almoners. He 
 was also careful, on his return from scenes of distress, to re- 
 mind them of their superior comforts ; of the gratitude they 
 owed to God ; and of the s}Tiipathy they should entertain for 
 the poor and friendless. He had no toleration for the ex- 
 cuses of the penurious ; and concerning that one which is 
 often urged about the over-frequency of charitable demands, 
 he remarked, '' in all my experience I never knew any per- 
 son hurt his interest by giving too much,^' — a remark which 
 may be received either as a satire upon the too general nig- 
 gardliness of mankind, or as a truth expressive of the profit- 
 ableness of Godly charity, for " there is that scattereth, and 
 yet increaseth.^' 
 
 The heart of this excellent man was the abode of faith, 
 hope, and charity, but the greatest of these was his charity. 
 His life was regulated upon this great first principle of Chris- 
 tianity. The welfare of his fellow-men as to temporal, and 
 especially as to spiritual and eternal things, lay near to 
 his heart ; and hence arose his vast labours for the improve- 
 ment of the young, the security of the middle-aged, the com- 
 fort of the old, and, in general, for the growing graces of the 
 believers in Jesus. To the same cause, also, must we trace 
 the freshness and the activity of his mind and affections to 
 the very last. Sustained and moved by such Christian phil- 
 anthropy, they could not easily flag ; and thus, there w^ill be 
 found as much of nerve and life in his latest, as characterized 
 his earliest publications. So true are these observations of 
 
ATTACHMENT TO CLElllCAL FRIENDS. 195 
 
 Mr Douglas, — " the only way to keep up tlie freshness of 
 the affections, and the youth of the heart, is to let them 
 freely flow over the activities of life, and, from action, to cir- 
 culate back to their fountain-head, that the stream of bene- 
 volence may issue and re-issue from the heart in a ceaseless 
 circle/'* 
 
 This may be the proper place to notice a truly lovely 
 feature in his Christian benevolence, which is not generally 
 known even among his friends and admirers. Dr Belfrage 
 felt strong sympathy for those of his brethren in the ministry, 
 who, from the smallness of their congregations, were in 
 straitened circumstances. To his praise let it be recorded, 
 that besides other acts of beneficence, he set apart the w^hole 
 profits of some of his publications for their relief. In a letter 
 to the late Dr Waugh, in which he begs his acceptance of a 
 copy of some of his works, he says, " I may mention to you, 
 that if any profits arise from this book, it is my intention to 
 send them privately to two or three ministers whose families 
 are large and whose stipends are small !" He was, himself, 
 placed by a kind providence, in easy circumstances, but he 
 was not the less mindful of his poorer brethren. He con- 
 sidered the many claims which are made upon the hospi- 
 tality of the pastor's fireside, and upon his limited income, 
 by cases of charity in the congregation, which delicacy for- 
 bids to make public, together with the expectations created 
 from his office of the general respectability of his own family's 
 appearance in society, and could fully sjmipathize \^dth them 
 under the efforts they were obliged to make with their scanty 
 means to honour such obligations. It must be recorded also, 
 to his praise, that the widows and orphans of his deceased 
 brethren continued to be the objects of his peculiar care. 
 Such families have been deserted in the days of their mourn- 
 ing, by the very individuals who should have been the last 
 to withdrav/ their protection ; and thus the minister's widow 
 has often wondered, whither have fled the friends and asso- 
 ciates of her husband, and his children have looked in vain 
 
 * Truths of Reliffion. 
 
196 ANECDOTE. 
 
 for the countenance of those who partook most freely of their 
 father's friendship. Fai', very far from Dr Belfrage was such 
 unfeehng conduct. The death of his friend only bound him 
 more closely to the interests of the survivors, wdiom he made 
 it his duty to seek out, and, by proofs too precious to be un- 
 appreciated, to convince of his affectionate regards. How 
 beautifully illustrative of this, is the interest he took in the 
 Evangelical Magazine, to w^hich reference has been already 
 made. He wrote for its pages, that he might have some 
 claims upon the profits, which are devoted to the widows 
 and children of evangelical ministers ; and, by his kind ap- 
 plications to the Directors, several ministers'* families have 
 been very seasonably benefitted out of these funds. His eye, 
 indeed, used to beam with delight, when he met w^ith the son 
 or daughter of a departed brother ; and, wherever their fu- 
 ture lot in life was cast, his prayers followed them, for their 
 happiness and success. A simple instance of this kind, out 
 of many that might be noticed, may here be stated : — A 
 young boy, the son of one who had been among his most in- 
 timate friends in the ministry, had come to Falkirk, on his 
 w^ay to Glasgow University. Through a mistake as to the 
 hour of the sailing of the canal boat, he was obliged to re- 
 main in Falkirk over the night. He had never been in the 
 town before, and the only person of whom he knew any 
 thing, was Dr Belfrage. He remembered the days when 
 the Doctor used to come about his father's house, and espe- 
 cially some kind expressions of friendship, which appeared 
 in the Memoir he had written, out of respect to his father's 
 memory ; and he resolved to test the hospitality of Rose 
 Park. The lad, somewhat timid, was shown into the lib- 
 rary, where Dr Belfrage was sitting. Upon announcing his 
 name, and the place of his birth, he received an instant and 
 cordial welcome. The good man''s eye was moistened, while 
 he traced the resemblance to the father in the features of the 
 son, and spoke of the many endearing excellencies of his for- 
 mer friend. Though a mere youth, he devoted the whole of 
 the cveninar to the lad's amusement, condescended to con- 
 
EXTRACTS FKOM LETTERS TO A VOUXG FRIEND, 197 
 
 verse with him about his own Uterary pursuits, and even 
 brought out the manuscript of a work, which had just been 
 published, and explained to him its contents. In the morn- 
 ing, he gave the boy, who had no acquaintances in Glasgow, 
 a letter of introduction to one of his most valued friends, 
 conducted him a little on his way, gave him many pious and 
 prudent counsels, and expressed his hope that he would soon 
 return to Rose Park, where he should always be welcomed. 
 " Thine own,'' said he, " and thy father's Friend, forsake 
 not." Many years afterward, this young person became a 
 minister in the same church with Dr Belfrage, who never 
 failed to act toward him as a father and a guide. In a letter 
 before us, we find him thus apologizing for not consenting to 
 introduce his young friend to his charge, on the first Sabbath 
 after his ordination : — 
 
 " On many accounts, it would have been most pleasing to me 
 to have introduced you at K ; but I am kept from it by en- 
 gagements which I have already made. You will enter on your 
 ministry, with the earnest prayers of all yOur father's friends, that 
 your labours in the Gospel may be a blessing to the Church, and 
 a happiness to yourself; and could that truly holy and amiable 
 servant of Christ speak to you from the place of his rest, it would 
 be in the words of Paul, ' Thou, therefore, my son, be strong in 
 the grace that is in Christ Jesus.' By mildness and suavity, your 
 congregation will be easily managed. The memory of your fa- 
 ther will be a shield to you, and I have no doubt but you will 
 have the countenance and aid of your father's Lord. * * * 
 The engagements which I have in the month of July, will also 
 prevent me from being with you at your first Sacrament ; but I 
 will, with much pleasure, be with you on the Fast-Day before it. 
 That new service will bring to you, I trust, additional experience 
 of the riches of that grace, which delights to aid every pious ef- 
 fort, and which has often made a minister's first Sacrament a 
 blessed season of holy advantage." 
 
 The following letters were written to the only son of an- 
 other of his deceased brethren, who had, at the age of tw^elve, 
 requested him to become one of his curators, for the super- 
 
198 LiiXTEKS TO THE SOX OF A DECEASED EROTHEK, 
 
 intendence of his patrimony and education. They breathe 
 all the spirit of the father : — 
 
 " Falkirh, December 26, 1827. 
 
 " My Dear Young Friend, — I received your letter, and 
 read it with deep interest. I am quite willing to act as one of 
 
 your curators, along with my friend Mr B , and will be most 
 
 happy to do any service in my power for yon. I had a great re- 
 gard for your excellent father, and I often remember his modest 
 piety, his holy wisdom, and his calm and his gentle manners. It 
 will be a high gratification to me, and to all his friends, to see his 
 son treading in his steps. This will be the sweetest consolation 
 of your mother's heart, the noblest tribute to your father's me- 
 mory, and the best security for your own happiness." 
 
 " FalJdrk, July 13, 1831. 
 
 " Dear J , — I would have written you sooner after the 
 
 death of your aunt, but my time has been very much occupied 
 with various duties. The sad event would affect you much, but 
 you saw it brightened by the influence of religion ; and this, I 
 trust, will endear the Gospel, and the living Redeemer it reveals, 
 more strongly to your heart. Your aunt died in the Lord, and 
 such was the happy result of her life of faith on Him. That 
 grace, which was so abundant to her death, is all-sufficient for 
 all the duties and trials of life, to your mother and you. 
 
 " Do not let your mind dwell on the dark side of the cloud, 
 on what is gloomy in death to nature ; but think on the light 
 from on high, which visits the failing eye ; on the rest in God, 
 which is felt by the struggling heart ; on the gracious care of the 
 Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, and to whose life and 
 love there can be no end ; and on that happy meeting, which 
 pious connexions will soon have, in that world, where they will 
 share together in their Saviour's joy, and magnify the grace which 
 made them one on earth, and, after all life's sorrows, and the se- 
 parations of death, made them one again in heaven. 
 
 " I hope you are pursuing your studies with diligence ; but 
 take care of your health. In the chamber of study, in the soli- 
 tary walk, and in the darkness of night, the idea of God's pre- 
 sence will cheer, while it awes. Seek from Him light in all that 
 perplexes you, and grace to fit you for His service, and entreat 
 
LETTERS TO THE SON OF A DECEASED 15110T1IER. 199 
 
 Him to enable you to live to Him, and to die to Him. What 
 can be so desirable as a life which He fills with wisdom and holi- 
 ness, and a death which he blesses with hope and peace." 
 
 " Falkirh, October 9, 1834. 
 
 " My Dear Friend, — I have delayed sending the parcel till 
 I had supposed j^ou had returned home, and I beg your accept- 
 ance of it, as a small token of the regard I feel for you. 
 
 " I cannot but embrace this opportunity of repeating how 
 deeply I feel the kindness of your very splendid present. Mrs 
 Belfrage is charmed with it, and especially with the amiable dis- 
 position which it indicates ; and, at her suggestion, when we go 
 to Edinburgh, we will get an inscription put on it, as the gift of 
 youthful gratitude and friendship.* She regretted it was not in 
 her pov/er to thank you in person, but bids me say, that she will 
 be happy, if God spare us, on your paying us a visit in the spring, 
 
 and in showing you every attention. If I am with Dr B in 
 
 April, I will then fix the time with you for your coming to Fal- 
 kirk. 
 
 " Be assured, my dear young friend, that the highest gratifi- 
 cation I can feel respecting you, will be to see you distinguished 
 by the best wisdom, by the modesty and kindness of your father's 
 spirit and manners, and by the mild sanctity which adorned his 
 life. Look up in earnest prayer, and in humble hope, to Him 
 who is the Father of light, that He may fill you with the know- 
 ledge of His will, and that, as the God of all grace. He may en- 
 rich your heart and life by its influence. May your studies be 
 guided by His counsel, your labours prospered and sweetened by 
 His blessing, and your lot crowned with loving-kindness and ten- 
 der mercies.". 
 
 After the venerable Dr Waugh " was gathered to his 
 people, '"* Dr Belfrage never for a moment suffered his friend- 
 ship to abate for the family of Salisbury place, where he had 
 been so hospitably treated when in London. In times of af- 
 fliction, he was ever ready to mingle his tears with theirs, or 
 to rejoice with them in their prosperity. A few months af- 
 
 * He refers here to a token of fj^ratitude, which his young- friend had given 
 him, on reaching his majority. 
 
200 LETTEllS TO MKS WAUGH. 
 
 ter the death of his revered father and friend, he thus ^yrites 
 to the mourning widow : — 
 
 " FalJdrh, March 7, 1828. 
 
 " My Dear Madam, — Had my much loved friend been still 
 on earth, he would by this time have been reminding me of his 
 request, that I should send a paper for the Evangelical Magazine. 
 His Avish I feel sacred in my heart, and I have sent one with this, 
 which James will put under cover, and send to the Editor, Mr 
 Morison of Brompton. 
 
 " Three months have passed away since your venerated hus- 
 band went to the Father, and not a day has there been in which 
 my heart has not blessed his memory, and melted in sympathy 
 with you. I trust the Redeemer has sent to you the gracious 
 comforter, by whose influence the sad are cheered, and the bleed- 
 ing heart is formed to resignation and hope. You have the so- 
 lacing reflection, that you were, for a long course of years, a mi- 
 nistering angel to the happiness of one so eminently a man of 
 God, and that you are surrounded by a family glowing with the 
 spirit of piety and kindness. Soothed by their affectionate care, 
 and guided by the hand, the gentle hand, of your Redeemer, 
 you will go in peace into that better world, where you shall be 
 reunited with him whose loss you now mourn, and where love 
 is ever felt in its sweetest power, devotion in its highest eleva- 
 tion, and happiness in its purest rapture. My sisters beg me to 
 present to you and your daughters the assurance of their kindest 
 sympathy. Amidst the many recollections of Salisbury Place, 
 which I shall carry with me to the grave, there must always mingle 
 a high respect for your worth, and the warmest gratitude for your 
 kindness." 
 
 " Rose Park, December 24, 1834. 
 
 " My Dear Mrs Waugh, — I cannot but embrace the oppor- 
 tunity of my friend Dr H going to London, to write you, to 
 
 assure you of the affectionate interest I take in your comfort. I 
 
 was truly happy to learn from Mr R , when I saw him in 
 
 September, that you were so graciously sustained by your God 
 and Saviour in your season of loneliness and infirmity ; and I 
 often think on that text, in reference to you, — ' Jesus having loved 
 His own that are in the world, loves them to the end.' There 
 can be no change in his heart, no intermission in his care. He 
 
LETTER TO MllS II , 201 
 
 will gently lead you to your everlasting rest, where the friends, 
 whose memory you fondly cherish, remember you with more than 
 wonted kindness, and are waiting to receive you into their blessed 
 habitations. 
 
 " I was very unwell last spring and summer, but am now, 
 through God's great mercy, in my usual health and vigour. Mrs 
 Belfrage is quite well, and bids me say how much she respects 
 you, and that it delights her to hear of your welfare. The two 
 children the Lord hath given me, are thriving in all respects. 
 Our little boy is frank, lively, and kind. He knows Dr Waugh's 
 picture, and, when we ask who it is, he points to it, and says, 
 ' Dear man.' It will be one of his earliest lessons, to venerate 
 the memory of so beloved a friend. Had he been still on earth, 
 he would have added to his toast, ' The children and the shrubs 
 at Rose Park.' " 
 
 The follow^ing was addressed to Mrs H ^, one of Dr 
 
 Waugh's daughters : — 
 
 " Rose Park, January 3, 1832. 
 
 " My very Dear Friend, — I cannot begin this letter in any 
 other way, than by expressing how deeply I felt the kindness of 
 your last letter. It came to this dwelling while in darkness and 
 sorrow, and we found ourselves relieved by its sweet and tender 
 consolations. Mrs Belfrage felt peculiar interest in it. She de- 
 lights to speak of you, and she loves you as a friend. She is now 
 in her usual health, and has been strengthened from above, to 
 bear her trying disappointment in meek submission. She has 
 been enabled to look through the tears of nature to the throne of 
 grace, to believe the loving-kindness of the Lord, and to hope in 
 His mercy. 
 
 " Your brother wrote me after the death of your uncle. What 
 a worthy man he was ! with dispositions so benignant, with man- 
 ners so mild, with hospitality so kind, with piety so humble, and 
 with integrity so steady, he was the object of affectionate respect 
 to all that knew him. You will recollect, my dear friend, that his 
 was the last house we were in when I was leaving London, and 
 how we waited, till we could tarry no longer, for his return. To 
 that dwelling my thoughts have often gone as a place adorned by 
 the meekness and the gentleness of Christ, and blessed with the 
 
202 LETTER TO MRS H- 
 
 peace of God. I wrote your mother after 1 got the intelligence, 
 and am expecting to hear from your sister or brothers how she 
 is bearing up under so many bereavements, and under the ad- 
 vancing infirmities of age. 
 
 I have sent you with this a copy of my Exposition of the Ca- 
 techism, which I trust you will accept as an expression of my 
 regard. There is, from the nature of the subject, less imagina- 
 tion in it than in some of my other works, but I trust it will not 
 be without utility as a book of pious instruction. I have found 
 my mind withdrawn, by the labour of it, from melancholy musing ; 
 and Vv'hatever may be its reception with the public, I have done 
 what I could to make it a book to teach wisdom and devotion, 
 integrity and kindness, in the lessons of families, and in the in- 
 tercourse of life. 
 
 " We have felt in this town, the dread of cholera, as in other 
 places ; and, when I heard of it as at Newcastle, and now at 
 Haddington, it struck me that the cloud which seemed at first no 
 bigger than a man's hand, would soon cover our sky with black- 
 ness. We had a day of thanksgiving last week for the harvest ; 
 and, with it, we mingled humiliation and fasting for the frowns of 
 Providence, and for the abounding iniquity in the land. It was 
 our earnest cry to God, that He would in wrath remember merc}^ ; 
 that He would turn again, and have compassion on us ; that He 
 would hide us in His pavilion, in the day* of evil, and form us to 
 the righteousness which exalteth a nation. How happy are they 
 who, in faith and love, can leave it to Providence to order every 
 circumstance of their lot, and every incident of their lives, for 
 His glory and their good. To them no cloud is fraught with 
 wrath, who walk as children of light, and no event is unwelcome 
 that comes from the Hand of Mercy. 
 
 " I am still lecturing on Genesis, and am about to begin the 
 liistory of Joseph. I am lecturing also, every alternate Sabbath, 
 on the Revelations, and am at present engaged with the fifth 
 chapter. This is a book which will especially reward patient 
 and prayerful study. It has been degraded by visionaries, but it 
 is rich in the grandest views of the mysteries of Providence, the 
 triumphs of Christ, and the glory of Heaven. 
 
 " Now, my very dear friend, write me very soon. Remember 
 me kindly to your excellent husband, whom I esteem very highly, 
 
EXCELLENCIES AS A FKIEND. 203 
 
 and to your dear little girls. Tell them they have a friend at 
 Falkirk, who loves them for their mother's sake, and who prays 
 for them, that they may be wise, and good, and happy. Re- 
 member me also to Mr B r, to whom I will write very soon. 
 
 May the kindest blessing of Heaven rest on you, and all you 
 love, and believe me to be, yours, with much esteem and respect, 
 
 " Henry Belfrage." 
 
 The attentive reader of this Memoir must have been con- 
 vinced, long ere this, of the admirable fitness of Dr Belfrage 
 to perform the duties, and appreciate the advantages of ge- 
 nuine friendship. His friendships w^ere really treasures to 
 him. They were the " sweetness of his life ;"'^ and he looked 
 upon every thing that had the slightest tendency to interrupt 
 or ruffle the smoothness of their course, with decided aver- 
 sion. We do not say that his friendship had in it any excel- 
 lencies which vv-ere peculiar, but it had all the excellencies 
 that are peculiar to friendship. It was purely disinte- 
 rested ; and, like his benevolence, lived and moved for a 
 blessing to its fortunate objects. The words of Seneca might 
 have been adopted by Dr Belfrage, " Even in my studies, 
 the greatest delight I take in w^hat I learn, is the teaching 
 of it to others ; for there is no relish, methinks, in the possess- 
 ing of any thing without a partner ; nay, if wisdom itself 
 were offered me upon condition only of keeping it to myself, 
 I should undoubtedly refuse it." * As a friend, he was equally 
 steady as he was generous. Neither the tongue of scandal, 
 nor the sting of malice, caused him to waver ; yea, he was 
 just the more excited to defend the good name of his friends, 
 when that might be endangered through uncharitable suspi- 
 cions. In short, his was, in general, a decidedly liberal spi- 
 rit. Though it may be peculiarly attached to such as held 
 similar religious sentiments with himself, he never refused 
 the right hand of fellowship to any whose worth and piety 
 invited his regards. His Christian sympathies were mingled 
 with the interest of the good of every sect, and under every 
 
 * Seneca's Morals. 
 
204 EXCELLENCIES AS A FRIEND. 
 
 clime. There could be few sectarian prejudices about him 
 whose prayers were lifted up for the prosperity of all the 
 lovers of Jesus ; who never grudged the tribute of respect 
 due to the great in Israel, by whatsoever name they may be 
 called, nor withheld the tear of regret over their tombs, in 
 whatsoever land their ashes might repose. It must be ac- 
 knowledged, that it required the power of Christian charity 
 in no small degree to put his feelings and judgement under 
 the control of such consistent generosity as to record it of 
 Scott, that " genius and patriotism strike their harps at his 
 tomb,"* and of the devoted diocesan of Calcutta, that " Re- 
 ligion and literature mourn the death of Bishop Heber in the 
 East Indies, f 
 
 * Life of Dr Lawson. f Extract from a private letter. 
 
S05 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 HIS SYMPATHY WITH THE AFFLICTED, AND HIS CONSOL- 
 ATORY LETTERS. 
 
 His Powers of Consolation, Rev. Mr Haddin. Letter to his Widow. 
 Letter to Dr Waugh's widowed Daughter. Letter to the Widow of 
 Dr Waugh. Sympathy with Ministers under affliction. Respect 
 
 for the Memory of his deceased Brethren. Letter to Mrs H . 
 
 Dr Dick. Extracts from Letters on the Character of Dr Dick. 
 Extracts from Letters of Sympathy. The Death of Infants. Let- 
 ters to hereaved Parents. His Domestic Bereavements. Death of 
 his sister Mary. Letter to a Friend. Character of Miss Mary 
 Belfrage. Death-bed of Miss Mary Belfrage. Death of his sister 
 ^Elizabeth. Letter to a Friend. The Death of a Sister peculiarly 
 affecting. Character and Death of Miss Elizabeth Belfrage. Death 
 of Dr John Belfrage. Account of his last Illness, by Dr Henry 
 Belfrage. 
 
 It has been noticed in its proper place, that Dr Belfrage 
 was a kind and faithful minister to mourners in Sion. In 
 addition, however, to the calls made upon his sympathy by 
 the members of his congregation, he had many personal 
 friends in whom, and in all that befell them, whether of 
 good or of evil, he took a deep interest. Embracing all its 
 legitimate objects, his brotherly love disposed him to rejoice 
 with them when they rejoiced, and to weep with them when 
 they wept. It is not in every heart that sympathy can thus 
 sustain an equal balance, whether it exercise itself on what 
 
 o 
 
S06 HIS POWERS OF CONSOLATION. 
 
 is j'oyous, or on what is grievous in the human lot. It is pos- 
 sible to be much more sensibly affected by the rejoicing than 
 by the weeping of friends, so that while passion may rise to 
 an extraordinary degree under the light of the one, it may be 
 but feebly moved under the mournful shade of the other ; 
 on the contrary, the tear has been seen to fall in the presence 
 of blighted hopes and melancholy ruin, while little fellow 
 feeling could be excited amid the smile of plenteousness and 
 peace. In this matter, the friendship of Dr Belfrage was 
 under the finest and most admirable control ; it did not con- 
 tent itself with the " transient tear of pity, or a smile of 
 complacency equally transient," but sought to " lessen cares 
 by sympathy, and multiply pleasures by participation." 
 
 But while the welfare of his friends was ever refreshing 
 to him, his sympathy formed for itself a still deeper current, 
 when it went out to afflict itself in their afflictions. A feel- 
 ing of delicacy might restrain him from any intrusive notice 
 of their private affairs, but by no such feeling was he fettered 
 when he saw them passing under the cloud. It was, in- 
 deed, when clouds and darkness had gathered around their 
 dvv^ellings, that he ventured upon closer and kindlier commu- 
 nion with their spirits, fully prepared to cheer them with the 
 hopes and comforts of the Gospel. In all respects he was 
 well fitted for a comforter. His own heart overflowed with 
 the tenderest pity, and he seemed to sorrow as if the blow 
 had alighted upon his own head. The consolations that fell 
 ft'om his lips were like the dew from heaven, and gently 
 soothed, if they did not assuage grief. While he spoke of 
 the harmonious operations of all things for the believer's 
 good, the ways of Providence, however dark they had be- 
 come, appeared to be radiant with mercy and truth : and the 
 duties of patience and resignation were invested with lovely 
 and interesting importance, while he discovered the splendid 
 rewards that must ever accompany their exercise. None 
 knew better than he did where the best balm could be ga- 
 thered, and he was not unskilful in his mode of applying it 
 to the wound. In short, the God of Mercy made him one 
 
REV. MR HADDIN, 207 
 
 of His choicest instruments to " give beauty for ashes, the oil 
 of joy for mourning, and the garments of praise for the spirit 
 of heaviness." 
 
 The following letters discover Dr Belfrage in the cheer- 
 less dw^elling of the widow, and in them it is difficult to know 
 which to admire most, the delicate tenderness with which he 
 touches the wounded heart, or the nice and discriminating 
 wisdom with which he selects and applies the remedy. In 
 such cases it is not easy to w^n the heart even for a little 
 from its own bitterness, and, by inconsiderate interference, 
 the wound may be made to bleed more profusely. By a 
 quick and sensitive apprehension, however, he saw the pecu- 
 liar character of such afflictions, and could temper the con- 
 solation accordingly. He did not violate the sacredness of 
 sorrow, by seeking to banish from the thought the beloved 
 object to whom memory clung. Nor yet did he add weight 
 to the burden by useless repinings over what could not be 
 recovered. Still he relieved the spirit of much of its sadness 
 by a mild and chastened echo of its lamentations, and forgot 
 not in the meantime to breathe out a merciful promise, 
 which, in arresting the attention, divided the exercise of the 
 mind, and thus diverted it for a while from the musings of 
 solitary regret. 
 
 Upon the death of the Rev. Mr Haddin of Limekilns, 
 who had long been his friend, and who was distinguished by 
 a life of peculiar meekness, by a mind strongly imbued with 
 evangelical sentiments, and by labours, in season and out of 
 season, as a minister of Christ, he addressed the follovring 
 letter to the mourning widow : — 
 
 Falkirk, June 23, 1820. 
 
 " Dear Madam, — It is with sincere sorrow that I received 
 yesterday the intelligence of the death of my worthy friend. I 
 had flattered myself with the hope, that a life so valuable would 
 be preserved for a number of years, and was promising myself 
 the pleasure of his company for some days this summer. But 
 He whose kingdom rules over all, has removed him from us to 
 Heaven. While I, in common with all his fiends, lament tlie 
 
 o2 
 
^08 LETTER TO THE WIDOW OF MR HADDIN. 
 
 loss of one so mild and prudent, so humble and pious, so candid 
 and friendly, the stroke must be felt by you with peculiar seve- 
 rity. But how strong is your consolation in knowing, that he has 
 gone to the Father, and that the widows and the children of His 
 servants, are the objects of the peculiar care of their Master. He 
 can make His grace sufficient for you, amidst all the anxieties of 
 your weighty charge, and cheer the house of mourning, and your 
 lonely hours, by His gracious presence and sweet mercy. 
 
 " Your children, who have lost so excellent a father at so in- 
 teresting a period, will be dear to all who knew and loved him. 
 The memory of their father will animate them to all that is re- 
 spectable in conduct ; and they will find in that Saviour to whose 
 care he committed them, a friend and a guide through life. In 
 teaching them to tread in the steps of their father, the remem- 
 brance of his virtues will be soothing to your heart : and his 
 people, I trust, will show to you and your children that respect, 
 sympathy, and kindness, to which you have so strong a claim, 
 and will cherish the memory, and follow the example, of a pastor 
 who was to them an honour and a blessing." 
 
 He thus wrote to another, upon whom the dreary cloud 
 of widowhood had descended, when as yet young in years : — 
 
 Falkirk, July 16, 1829. 
 
 " My Dear Madam, — Though I am not so well acquainted 
 with you as with the other members of your venerable father's 
 family, I have felt a deep interest in the trials you have met with, 
 and most sincerely sympathize with you in the grief you now feel. 
 When I was in London, in 1825, I recollect of hearing a letter 
 read from you, to your little boy. I was charmed with it, for it 
 was so beautiful, and so tender ; and affectionately did I join in 
 the prayers of that evening, that your husband and children 
 might live to bless you. 
 
 " In the heavy stroke j^ou have now met with, the Lord hath 
 not afflicted you willingly. At that period He threatened to take 
 your beloved husband from you. His hand was lifted up ; but 
 in pity and compassion it was withdrawn ; and now, when you 
 are separated, you have reason to believe that God himself will 
 be your consolation and your stay, and that a blessed reunion is 
 
LETTER TO THE WIDOWED DAUGHTER OF DR WAUGH. 209 
 
 destined for yoii in Heaven. His softest balm is reserved for 
 the widow's sorrows, and his tenderest care for the wants of the 
 fatherless. Lift your eyes, in hope, to your father's Lord, and 
 cast your burden on Him, and he will sustain you. It will give 
 you comfort to think how Jesus singled out the widow at Nain, 
 as the object of his compassion, and that, from his Throne in the 
 Heavens, he still looks on her affliction, yields, in His guidance, 
 more than a husband's counsel, and, in his tenderness, more sweet 
 solace than ever arose from the kindest love. To his mercy and 
 grace I wish most sincerely to commend you and your children. 
 May He sustain you with his effectual aid, and make darkness 
 light before you. 
 
 " A lonely path seems to open before you, but a living Re- 
 deemer will be with you in every step you take ; and, before you, 
 there is an eternity and a Heaven, which shall be blessed by the 
 joy of your Lord, and by the perfect love of ttie Father, and the 
 husband of your heart. I ought to apologize for writing you ; 
 but I trust you will ascribe it to my interest in all that are re- 
 lated to your father, and to the mandate of mercy, which re- 
 quires us to weep with them that weep." 
 
 The interest which he continued to take in the widow of 
 Dr Waugh, has been already noticed ; and the following let- 
 ter, written to her on the death of her brother, Mr Neill, 
 will show how ready he was to honour the memory of the 
 dead, by kind and seasonable consolations to their beloved 
 survivors : — 
 
 " Rose Park, Nov. 26, 1831. 
 
 " My Dear Mrs Waugh, — I received James' letter, inti- 
 mating to me the death of the excellent Mr Neill ; and I need not 
 say to you how much I respected him, and how affectionately I 
 regret his departure. His mild goodness and modest worth, his 
 friendships, so sincere and so steady, his kind heart, and open- 
 handed bounty, his piety, so humble and uniform, and his pu- 
 rity of character, so beautiful, have often risen up before my 
 mind in recollections marked by the highest esteem and venera- 
 tion. 
 
 How many relatives has it pleased God to take from you to 
 himself, within these few years; but you have this peculiar con- 
 
210 LETTER TO THE WIDOW OF DR WAUGH. 
 
 solation, that they were so eminent in all that is holy and good, 
 and so ripe for Heaven. Your brother has been reunited, before 
 you, to the husband and the daughter of your heart, but you will 
 soon meet with them in the joy of your Lord. The excellent 
 relative, whose soothing kindness you have felt so sweet under 
 your former trials, can minister no more to the friends he loved, 
 but God will give you a brighter light from on high, as your 
 evening advances ; and your Redeemer will fill you with ever- 
 lasting consolation. Of those that do his Father's will he says, 
 < The same is my sister ;' and what he said of Lazarus, he now 
 says of the much valued friend you lament, ' Our friend sleep- 
 eth ; thy brother shall rise again !' 
 
 " The tears of aged piety Jesus loves to wipe away ; its so- 
 litude he delights to cheer ; its hope he will revive ; and its sad 
 recollections he will brighten by the efficacy of his blood, and 
 by the power of his grace. May you, my very dear and much 
 respected friend, abundantly share his tender mercy, and may it 
 shed over you that influence by which sinking nature is refreshed 
 and strengthened ; and, when earth becomes less interesting, may 
 more of Heaven be made to descend on you. His hand will 
 guide your remaining steps ; and, while sweet will be the welcome 
 you will get to Heaven, from the friends who are now with God, 
 the grace which will crown you with everlasting kindness, will be 
 their joy as well as yours. Here you shared in the joys and sor- 
 rows of life ; but, in Heaven, your felicity shall be unmingled. 
 Death is the last separation. Eternity shall bring none to the 
 good. We meet in Heaven, to be for ever with the Lord. 
 
 " I am happy to say that Mrs B. has nearly regained her 
 usual health. About two months ago, I wrote Miss W., in which 
 I bade her mention to you how ill Mrs B. had been, and the sad 
 disappointment with which it had pleased God to afllict us. She 
 has been enabled to exercise a most exemplary resignation to the 
 Divine will, and has felt the soothing and the strengthening in- 
 fluence of the peace that passeth all understanding. Remember 
 me very kindly to Miss Neill, and say to her how much I sym- 
 pathize with her, and how earnestly I wish that the presence and 
 the kindest pity of the Redeemer may cheer her solitary dwelling, 
 and fill her heart with that blessed hope which enters within the 
 veil, and carries the heart with it to Heaven. Remember me also 
 
SYMPATHY WITH AFFLICTED MINISTERS. 211 
 
 to Miss Waugh, with every assurance of my kind esteem ; and 
 say to her that I will feel much obliged by her writing me how 
 you are. I can never forget Salisbury Place ; and, while any of 
 its dear family remain in it, I wish to be remembered as a de- 
 voted friend." 
 
 Dr Belfrage was peculiarly attached to his friends in the 
 ministry. He relished their society, not only because he was 
 partial to those of his own profession, but because he loved 
 their piety, could appreciate their worth, and feel himself 
 safe in their presence. No man could be happier than he 
 was with a brother clergyman for his guest, or when he oc- 
 casionally met with his brethren, in assisting at Sacraments. 
 Hence he took great delight in the meetings of presbytery, 
 to which he was wont to look forward with marked plea- 
 sure ; and it was noticed, on these days he was uncommonly 
 cheerful. The Presbytery of Stirling and Falkirk, cannot 
 soon forget either his dignified, wise, and faithful conduct in 
 Court, or the " charming pleasantry'' with which, in their 
 social meetings, he essayed to contribute to their enjoyment. 
 But it was when they were in difficulties, or under affliction, 
 that he was ever found, by his ministerial friends, to be a 
 friend indeed. His best advice was ever at their service, 
 and his sympathy was equally seasonable and soothing. He 
 marked their increasing prosperity with generous satisfaction ; 
 was jealous of those who would, in any way, attempt to tar- 
 nish their reputation, or weaken their influence; and was 
 justly indignant at the conduct, either of congregations or 
 individuals, when it tended to the dishonour of the pastoral 
 oflfice, or sought to disturb the peace of the servants of Christ. 
 The following extracts from letters, written to two of his 
 friends in the ministry, upon occasions to which it is not 
 necessary particularly to advert, will serve to illustrate what 
 has now been advanced : — 
 
 " I have often thought of you during the winter, and have 
 deeply regretted that the evening of your fife should be darkened 
 by such tempests. But, in the love of God, you wiU find sweet 
 
212 EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS OF SYMPATHY. 
 
 solace amidst the ingratitude and the malice of men, and greater 
 is He that is in you, than he that is in the world. For the sake 
 of your interesting family, and the many friends that loved you, 
 and, in sympathy, suffer with you, give not yourself up to de- 
 spondence. The tumult will soon subside, and the deluded mul- 
 titude, ashamed of their folly, will strive, by their dutiful atten- 
 tions, to obliterate the unkindnesses into which they have been 
 misled. Remember me kindly to your dear young people ; and, 
 wishing you all that guidance, comfort, and support which your 
 present circumstances require. I am," &c. 
 
 " I regret very much the unpleasant circumstances in which 
 you are placed ; but you have this consolation, that the violence 
 will soon come to an end, and that you have done what you felt 
 your duty. The mild and the wise throughout the land look 
 with disgust and abhorrence on the violence of your adversaries ; 
 and, were their cause better than it is, their insolence and malig- 
 nity would disgrace, instead of promoting it. Had I met with 
 you earlier, I would have advised you to engage in no newspaper 
 controversy, and to reply to no pamphlet but what was wTitten 
 in a Christian spirit, and had the writer's name. Newspaper 
 controversy has increased the irritation ; and, had you taken no 
 notice of their low virulence, they would have seen that you dis- 
 pised their assaults, and would have desisted. I confess, how- 
 ever, it is much easier to advise thus than to act thus. My wish 
 and prayer for j^ou is, that the Lord may stand by you, to 
 strengthen and to guide you ; and that, by the testimony, and the 
 consolations of his Spirit, you may be encouraged, and abun- 
 dantly blessed." 
 
 Dr Belfrage was free from that paltry jealousy which seeks 
 to depreciate the talents of the wise and eminent. Hence he 
 was ever ready to do full justice to their worth, while they 
 lived, and to their memory when they died. The circum- 
 stance of his having been the compiler of the memoirs of 
 some of the most distinguished men in his own church, shows 
 how dearly he cherished, and how anxious he was, to embalm 
 their honoured names. The share which he took in drawing 
 up the biography of Dr Waugh, in particular, will serve to 
 
UESPECT FOB THE MEMOKY OF DECEASED MINISTERS. 213 
 
 benefit his own reputation for having possessed the best ele- 
 ments of a generous friendship, with no mean capabihties of 
 discerning and appreciating the virtues that exalt, and the 
 graces that adorn, the ministerial character. The following 
 letter was written to one of Dr Waugh's daughters, at the 
 period of her father's death, and is, in all respects, worthy ot 
 that mind which afterward, in the work referred to, exerted 
 itself, along with another of kindred worth, to portray m 
 full, the character of that truly excellent man. 
 
 " Rose Park, Dec. 22, 1827. 
 " My very Dear Fkiend,— I have been very anxious about 
 vou, for some time past, and had resolved to write you, to inquire 
 about your welfare, and that of your dear infant, when, on the 
 very morning of the day on which that purpose should have been 
 executed, your brother's letter intimated to me the mournful tid- 
 ings of the death of one whom I revered and loved as the kmd- 
 est and best of men. 
 
 " While my heart has been directed, in grief and sympathy, 
 to Salisbury Place, I have much pity for you, my kind friend, 
 for to you the trial has been aggravated by the regret, very bitter 
 to nature, that you did not witness the last hours of your father, 
 and heard not from his lips his last expressions of piety and kind- 
 ness. But this sacrifice God required for your child. He will 
 compensate your loss by His own consolations, and for it tl^ 
 gratitude of your daughter xoill hereafter bless you. 
 
 " What a great and good man was your father ! My thoughts 
 have been dwelling on the tenderness of his heart, the ardour of 
 his spirit, his delight to oblige, his unwearied beneficence the 
 unction of his prayers, his ardent zeal in the cause of the Gos- 
 pel his matchless powers in conversation and in writmg, in which 
 the serious and the useful were so happily blended with a charm- 
 ing pleasantry, and with a kindness which made the heart glow; 
 the wisdom of his counsels ; and the piety, beauty, and pathos of 
 his ministrations. His admirable qualities now rise before me, 
 while nature mourns that such a face can be seen, and that such 
 a voice can be heard, no more. 
 
 " At the death of such a man there is peculiar reason for 
 
214 LETTERS TO MRS H- 
 
 lamentation, but there are also peculiar grounds of consolation. 
 He has entered into the joy of his Lord ; and what must be the 
 happiness allotted by his gracious Master to so good and faithful 
 a servant ? His usefulness was unimpaired to the close of life. 
 He shone to his last hour. He has left a very bright name, and 
 the God whom he loved and served will assuredly bless the fa- 
 mily of his heart, for his sake. To me your father's departure 
 must be the object of regret while I live. I loved him as my 
 father ; and I have been enlightened by his wisdom, edified by 
 his piety, animated by his countenance, and blessed by his kind- 
 ness. The character of Barnabas has struck me as a most ap- 
 propriate one for your father. " He was a good man, full of the 
 Holy Ghost, and of faith." I am preparing a discourse upon 
 that text, to deliver it to my people on Sabbath. They have a 
 high veneration for the character and labours of Dr Waugh ; and 
 they will be gratified and edified in beholding the Christian ex- 
 cellence of this primitive disciple exemplified so beautifully in 
 such a master in Israel, in our own day. 
 
 " The public will expect a Memoir, or some other record of 
 
 your father ; and I have written to your brother J , that if it 
 
 is the wish of the family, that I should take any part in such a 
 labour of love, they are welcome to my best services. * * * 
 He has friends in Scotland better qualified than I am for this 
 sacred duty, and it will give me great satisfaction if they engage 
 in it. There is one point, in which I can yield to none, and that 
 is, in veneration and attachment to him. None, beyond his own 
 family, loved him as I did. 
 
 " My sisters beg to be kindly remembered to you, as enter- 
 ing tenderly into your sorrow. Your father will live in their af- 
 fectionate remembrance. I feel very much for your mother. 
 How bitter must the separation have been of two hearts so long 
 and so tenderly united. Your mother has great mental energy, 
 and I trust that she will be enabled to be the comforter of your 
 
 sisters. My heart bleeds for . She was so devoted to 
 
 her father, and her health is so delicate, that I cannot think of 
 the effect of this shock upon her, without fear and trembling. 
 May the Father of mercies sustain and bless her by His kindest 
 pity. 
 
 " My heart is too full to permit me to touch upon any other 
 
DR DICK. 215 
 
 topic than the sad one that now oppresses yours. When your 
 mind is somewhat cahned, write me how you are. I will wait 
 for it with much anxiety. The venerable saint was one bond of 
 our union, but our friendship, I trust, will be strengthened hy the 
 sweet and holy power of his memory" 
 
 It was in this calm and holy spirit that Dr Belfrage 
 mourned the fall of the great in Israel. He sympathized 
 not only with the bereaved relatives and congregation, but 
 with Beligion herself, in the departure of her best and 
 brightest ornaments from " the land of living men." The 
 death of Dr Dick, for instance, made a deep and lasting im- 
 pression upon him ; and sincerely did he lament, along with 
 the Church of Christ, the loss of a man, the dignity and up- 
 rightness of wdiose character, no less than the vigour of his 
 intellect and the vast extent and precision of his professional 
 and literary attainments, had raised to an eminence to which 
 his friends and pupils looked with pride and reverence ; and 
 whose highly cultivated mind and classic taste, did much to 
 restrain and correct that inflation and exuberance which, 
 during the latter years of his life, threatened to overrun and 
 degrade our English theological literature. 
 
 " I was very much afflicted," says Dr Belfrage in a letter to 
 one of the family of Dr Dick, " by the melancholy tidings of 
 your father's illness and death. I felt for him that high respect 
 to which he was so amply entitled by his eminent attainments in 
 literature and in piety, and I regarded the friendship of such a 
 man as a privilege of no ordinary value. 
 
 " When I think how he was honoured and loved in his family, 
 the blow is heavy indeed which has fallen on your hearts ; and 
 ray prayer to God is, that he may bind you up and sustain you 
 by his own divine consolations. The whole church mourns with 
 you ; and the wise and good of all parties feel that a great man is 
 fallen this day in Israel." 
 
 In a letter to one of his most intimate friends, he thus 
 alludes to the character and works of Dr Dick : — 
 
216 DR DICK. 
 
 " The Memoir of Dr Dick is well written. I was urged by 
 some of his friends in Glasgow to write one for the Evangelical 
 Magazine ; but while deliberating on it I found, in the last num- 
 ber, the ground occupied. It is so far lucky, that I had done 
 nothing. His lectures will be a splendid memorial of his ad- 
 mirable skill in theology, and of his masterly style of composi- 
 tion, in which perspicuity, conciseness, and elegance, were so 
 happily united. I have been reading the ' Life of Hall,' and such 
 of his works as I had not before seen, with very great delight. 
 In ardour of mind, and in the power of his genius, he rose above 
 our lamented friend in the West ; but Dr Dick excelled him in 
 clearness of apprehension, in the sobriety of his views, and the 
 accuracy of his judgement, and in simplicity and beauty as a 
 writer. You will think me, probably, too partial to our lamented 
 Professor, but I feel that he deserves all that has been said of 
 him. Your own reminiscences of your conversations with Mr 
 Hall, are truly delightful. I am astonished that you could give 
 his statements with so much exactness, and so much in his tone 
 and spirit." 
 
 He makes honourable mention of Dr Dick in another 
 letter to the same esteemed and talented friend : — 
 
 " You would be gratified to see, in the last number of the 
 Edinburgh Review, that it is renewing its strength. There were 
 some articles with which I was highly pleased. Having read the 
 book, I could the better judge of Macauley's review of Horace 
 Walpole's Letters. It is admirably done in wit and taste, and 
 characteristic painting. I only wished he had exposed, with 
 more severity, the frivolous cast of many of its details, and its 
 total want of those topics which a wise man would wish to study, 
 and on which a good man w^ould delight to dwell. 
 
 " What a feast may we expect from the Lectures of Dr 
 Dick ! They will form the best system of theology which we 
 have ; and though the part he took in the Voluntary Controversy 
 may lead some snarling critics to charge them with deficiencies, 
 and, by malignant comparisons, to lower them in public estima- 
 tion, they will be regarded by every competent judge as a most 
 masterly illustration and defence of the evangelical system. 
 
EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS OF SYMPATHY. 217 
 
 Never has it been seen to more advantage as to perspicuity, 
 acuteness, and elegance." 
 
 In the extracts which follow, will be noticed much of 
 that warmth of heart, and delicate sense of the afflictions of 
 his friends, which distinguished Dr Belfrage as a son of con- 
 solation : — 
 
 " Your worthy father has entered into rest, and has left us 
 another example of piety and wisdom to follow. I was truly 
 sorry to hear of your son's illness. Will you tell him from me, 
 that I feel a sympathizing interest in his situation, and that I wish 
 him much grace and comfort ? The account you gave of his 
 meek resignation, is beautiful and melting, and I trust his patience 
 and submission are the workings of the new nature within him. 
 May God spare to you and to the world so valuable a child, and 
 
 support you and Mrs F amidst all the anxiety and toil through 
 
 which you are now called to pass." 
 
 " I am indeed sorry to learn, that your mother is so poorly. 
 You will find, in the grace of the Lord Jesus, a rich supply of 
 comfort and strength in this dark season. The Redeemer knows 
 what it is to feel for a mother's sorrows, and He will sympathize 
 with you. It would have been a pleasure to your mother to con- 
 tinue to minister to your comfort ; and who can tell but the Lord 
 may preserve her for some time to you ? At all events, the Lord 
 liveth, — blessed be our Rock ! Mention to her, that I feel much 
 for her distress, and that I trust she will be enabled to cast all her 
 cares upon God. He cares for you both, and with Him there is 
 plenteous redemption, and everlasting consolation ; and in life 
 and in death, may she be upheld by that arm, on which a con- 
 trite sinner never tried to lean in vain." 
 
 " It is from no idea that I can suggest any consolation which 
 has not occurred to a mind like yours, that I now write you ; but 
 to express my sincere condolence with you, on the death of your 
 lamented son. In the pleasing intercourse which I have had with 
 your family, I was struck with the kindness of his dispositions, 
 the modesty and sweetness of his manners, and the eagerness 
 which he felt to oblige. On various occasions I have experienced 
 his affectionate attentions, and I feel a very deep regret for the 
 
218 SYMPATHY WITH THE DEATH OF INFANTS. 
 
 death of a youth so accomplished and so amiable. In the purity 
 of his character, and in the excellence of his spirit, you have 
 every assurance that he is happy ; and He who took such an in- 
 terest in the mourner at Nain, and restored the dead young man 
 there to his mother, will bring to you your departed son, perfect 
 in all the qualities which delighted you, and enjoying a happiness 
 beyond a parent's fondest wishes." 
 
 " Knowing the scenes of affliction with which you have been 
 so much occupied, I did not trouble you with any letter. Mrs 
 Belfrage and my sisters were indeed much affected by your sis- 
 ter's death, and by the added visitation in your brother's family, 
 which has been to him sorrow upon sorrow. I trust the consola- 
 tions of God are not small with you, and that, while memory and 
 affection dwell on what you have lost, faith and hope will realize 
 the blessedness your dear relatives now enjoy with Christ, and 
 anticipate the reunion that awaits you. Delight in the creature 
 is often marred by disappointment and mortality ; but delight in 
 God rises as we advance in piety, and it will be the blessedness 
 of eternity." 
 
 The death of infants, or very young children, deeply af- 
 fected him. It was an honourable trait in his character, that 
 he did not deem it beneath him to take notice of such events. 
 He knew that the loss of an infant, an event of but too little 
 interest in the eyes of mankind, was one of the heaviest of do- 
 mestic afflictions, and his pity was moved to witness the pass- 
 ing away of infant loveliness, and the blighting of many a fond 
 parental hope. But this was a subject which interested him 
 from other considerations. His attention was solemnly ar- 
 rested to what might be i\\Q future co7idition of such children. 
 It will appear evident, from the letters that are to follow 
 these remarks, that he delighted to think of their salvation, 
 and offered this hope, as the best consolation of the bereaved 
 parents. He rejoiced to meditate on the riches of that grace, 
 which, even to the infant's soul, can convey, by imputation, 
 the justifying righteousness of our Redeemer. On the sup- 
 position of their salvation, he saw an additional proof of the 
 preciousness of the blood of Christ, and of the verity and 
 
SYMPATHY WITH THE DEATH OF INFANTS. 219 
 
 value of these cheering words, " Suffer the little children to 
 come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the king- 
 dom of God." Dr Belfrage had no doubts of the salvation 
 of the infants that died of heliemng parents^ though it does 
 not appear, from any thing he has written, that he considered 
 the salvation of every infant as certain. This is unquestion- 
 ably a subject upon which we should speak cautiously, as the 
 word of God is silent in reference to it. Our sentiments and 
 feelings must be controlled by the general spirit and import 
 of the doctrines of grace, and by our impressions of the 
 abundance of that mercy, which is in God through Jesus 
 Christ. It is not to be disputed, that Jehovah would be 
 perfectly justified, though he were to leave all who die in 
 infancy to perish, inasmuch as all " are children of wrath ;" 
 but it is equally certain, that, if He wills it. He can secure 
 the salvation of all such infants, and that without any refer- 
 ence to the character of their parents, by interesting them in 
 the atoning sacrifice of their Surety. 
 
 To indulge in the hope, that the souls of such as die in 
 infancy may immediately pass into glory, reflects no dis- 
 honour on any of the perfections of God ; for the death of 
 Jesus can glorify H\^ justice and holiness equally in the jus- 
 tification of the new-born babe, as in the pardon of the sin- 
 ner of a hundred years ; and surely it does not detract from 
 the exceeding riches of His grace, that its praises should be 
 sung by infant hearts ; nor should the poet be rashly blamed, 
 who, in an amiable partiality, allowed to babes, " in the hea- 
 venly choirs,"*"* the best right to sing loudest of sovereign 
 grace : — 
 
 " Because they found the happy shore, 
 They never saw nor sought before."* 
 
 To the Rev. Mr H of K^ :— 
 
 " Falkirk, January 13, 1808. 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — The melancholy intelligence in your last 
 letter, filled me with the deepest regret. In your sweet little 
 
 * Ralph Erskine's Sonnets. 
 
220 LETTEllS TO BEREAVED PARENTS. 
 
 daughter, I felt uncommon interest. I have often recollected the 
 easy and graceful manner in Avhich she used to repeat the hymns, 
 and the wisdom and piety of her reflections, so far above what 
 might have been expected from her years. The last time I was 
 with you, she followed us to the gate, when I came away, indi- 
 cating, by her manner, her good wishes to her father's friend. I 
 cannot refrain from mentioning these things. To a heart of sen- 
 sibility, they cannot seem trivial. They have mingled themselves 
 with every feeling of sympathy, with which I have looked to your 
 dwelling, and with every reflection I have made on the departure 
 of your child. 
 
 " The consolatory topics to which you have adverted in your 
 letter, will, I hope, in God's good time, restore tranquillity to your 
 minds. He who in his mercy had compassion on the mother fol- 
 lowing her only son to the grave, and said to her, ' Weep not,' 
 views your family, I am persuaded, with the kindest sympathy, 
 and is saying of you, ' I will not leave you comfortless.' Can we 
 think of Him taking up little children in His arms, laying His 
 hands on them, and blessing them, and suppose that He takes 
 pleasure in their sufferings, or that His feelings to them are stern 
 or vindictive. In the deaths of little children, I view Him taking 
 them away in mercy from a world, where all is vanity and vexa- 
 tion of spirit, to the felicity of His Father's house. You, my 
 dear sir, need have no hesitation in applying such comforts to 
 your heart, for to the righteous our Father in heaven hath said, 
 ' I will be thy God, and the God of thy seed.' Think of your 
 child as in His arms. Think of that happy meeting you shall 
 soon have with her, and resignation, gratitude, and hope will mo- 
 derate the conflicts of nature. The idea, that our dear relatives 
 are in the dust, makes the world seem less desirable, and the 
 grave less frightful. ' Them that sleep in Jesus, will God bring 
 with Him,' is an assurance, which, to the wounded heart, is 
 unspeakably precious, and by it the wildest sorrow has been 
 calmed. 
 
 " You will accept, I trust, of this expression of my interest 
 in your affliction. Conscious how poorly I can discharge the 
 office of a comforter, my earnest wish and praj^er to God is, that 
 He who comforts them that are cast down, may comfort your 
 hearts, and fill you with all joy and peace in believing." 
 
LETTERS TO BEREAVED PARENTS, jg^l 
 
 To the Rev. Mr F of A. : 
 
 " Falkirk, 11 th February, 1812. 
 
 " I TRUST you have had His presence, whose promise it is, 
 * I will not leave you comfortless, I will come unto you.' In little 
 children, our Redeemer took a peculiar interest, and His indulg- 
 ence and love to them are recorded in His word, for the encour- 
 agement and consolation of parents, when their hearts are bleed- 
 ing at their early removal. Your child, you have every reason 
 to believe, is in the Saviour's bosom, and there He will keep it, 
 to present it to you, on your entrance into a happier world, per- 
 fect in innocence and beauty. With this hope Christians sorrow, 
 and its soothing influence is a pledge of that day, w^hen God shall 
 wipe away all tears from their eyes." 
 
 When the same friend was, in a few years afterward, be- 
 reaved of another very interesting child, he received the fol- 
 lowing letter of condolence from Dr Belfrage : — 
 
 " Falkirk, February 4, 1819. 
 
 *' My Dear Sir, — I sincerely sympathize with you, under 
 your present heavy affliction. Your amiable boy possessed a so- 
 briety and good sense, very uncommon at his years ; his manners 
 were so modest, and his temper so sweet, that he was an object 
 of attachment to all who knew him. The seriousness of his taste, 
 and the piety of his habits, are striking indications that he was 
 an heir of the grace of life, and, in his long illness, it was obvious 
 that he was a vessel of mercy preparing for glory. 
 
 " The loss of such a son must be a severe blow to a parent's 
 heart ; but you, I trust, will find that there is a power in the con- 
 solations of the Gospel, which can calm the most violent sorrow. 
 The attachment of our Lord to little childi'en, is a most interest- 
 ing part of His character ; and you have every reason to believe, 
 that your departed son is now reposing in His bosom, and that 
 He who delivered the young man of Nain to his mother, will one 
 day restore him to you, in all the graces of moral perfection. 
 What an ample reward will this be for your pious care, and what 
 a happy fulfilment of your faith and hope 1 
 
 " The piety, wisdom, and kind affections of your young son, 
 
 P 
 
222 LETTERS TO BEREAVED PARENTS. 
 
 form an admirable model for the imitation of children ; and in 
 
 A , Avhere he was known, his character and death will, I trust, 
 
 be eminently useful in forming them to the love of all that is se- 
 rious and good." 
 
 To Ills cousin, Mrs G ■ of P^ : 
 
 " Rose Park, 20th March, 1826. 
 
 " My Dear Cousin, — Miss Whyt's letter to J , which 
 
 we received on Monday, afflicted us all very much. The many 
 engaging qualities of your dear little boj^, had gained all our 
 hearts, and for his early removal, we all sincerely mourn. 
 
 " I have often thought of the shock it must have given j^ou, 
 and earnestly have I prayed, that the kindest mercy of Heaven 
 may sustain and comfort you. The Redeemer has wiped the 
 tears from many a mother's cheeks, and made the most blessed 
 hopes to flourish at their children's grave. The God from whom 
 this trial has come, is the Father of mercies, who, in His darkest 
 dispensations, has the spiritual welfare of his children in view. 
 Your dear boy is safe and happy in His bosom, and He will re- 
 store him to you, shining in the beauty, and rejoicing in the bless- 
 edness, of heaven. The Lord Jesus had compassion on the sor- 
 rowing mother at Nain, and when He raised her son to life. He 
 delivered him to his mother, that He might teach separated friends 
 to anticipate a blessed reunion, through His power and raercy» 
 The kingdom of heaven is, in a great measure, composed of such 
 as die in childhood ; and, as the Saviour and the Friend of little 
 children, our Redeemer will be honoured through eternity. It is 
 a most solemn admonition to us all, that God will soon bring us 
 to death, and to the house appointed for all living ; and, like 
 David at the death of his child, you are saying, ' I shall go to 
 him, but he shall not return to me.' 
 
 " It softens the idea of the grave, when we think, that there 
 sleep the objects of our tenderest affections ; and we feel it as an 
 attraction to heaven, that the friends of our hearts are rejoicing 
 around the throne of the Lamb, and are ready to hail the moment 
 when, by Christ's appointment, they shall receive us into ever- 
 lasting habitations. Parents, whose little children are gone, feel 
 that they have less to connect them with this world, and more 
 with another ; that their offspring have shown them the path of 
 
DOMESTIC BEREAVEMENTS DEATH OF HIS SISTER. 
 
 S23 
 
 life, and that their angels do always behold the face of their Fa- 
 ther in heaven. 
 
 « Assure Mr G of my kindest sympathy, and likewise 
 
 Miss W , on whose heart also this blow has fallen. May all 
 
 grace and comfort be imparted to them both. I intend being in 
 Edinbm-gh in the end of April ; and, if it please God, will come 
 down and see you at P My sisters join me in kind condo- 
 lence and regards to you, Mr G and Miss W ; and, with 
 
 earnest wishes that God may calm your heart by His soothing 
 pity, grant you effectual support in this time of need, and make 
 darkness light before you, by His blessed hope, and by His ten- 
 derest care, I am, my dear cousin, yours most sincerely, 
 
 " Henry Belfrage." 
 
 Bereavements in his own happy and united family, were 
 pecuUarly painful to his affectionate heart : but, if the sigh 
 escaped from the troubled spirit, the song of resignation and 
 acquiescence was heard also from him in the chamber of the 
 dead. Upon the death of his sister Mary, in May 1833, we 
 find him thus expressing himself, in a letter to a very dear 
 female friend : — 
 
 « My sister Mary was, on Friday evening last, relieved from 
 her long course of suffering. She was much reduced by a severe 
 attack of her disease (an affection of the heart), in the month of 
 January, and though she obtained some relief, I saw her strength 
 declining from day to day. A few days before her death, she 
 walked to our private door, that leads to the church-yard, and 
 looked at the little garden, and at the stones and graves of the 
 cemetery. She remarked how beautiful the mild lustre of the even- 
 ing sun made even the church-yard look, and turned her mind to 
 the far sweeter light shed over it by our Lord's words to Martha, 
 ' I am the resurrection and the life.' During her long illness, she 
 was uncommonly patient, and often spoke of her death in lan- 
 guage which showed that to her the prospect of it had no terror. 
 Habitual earnest devotion blessed her many sleepless nights, and 
 in the Psalms especially she found a refreshing and cheering in^ 
 fluence. For the two last days of her life, she sat up in bed, 
 leaning upon one of her sisters, and was for the most part insen- 
 
 p 2 
 
S24 CHAll.ACTER OF MISS MARY BELFRAGE. 
 
 sible. There were intervals in which she revived a little, and in 
 one of them she raised the hand of her sister to her lips, and kissed 
 it, and, in broken accents, spoke of the goodness of God in the 
 many happy days they had enjoyed together, and of the far hap- 
 pier eternity before them, and bore testimony, as she had often 
 done, to her feeling and hope of the Redeemer's mercy. 
 
 " Amidst the griefs of nature, we felt that blessed are the 
 dead that die in the Lord, and we trust that the Lord will give 
 us grace to follow her faith, considering the end of her conversa- 
 tion/' 
 
 For seven years had this remarkably pious lady laboured 
 under very severe bodily affliction, which was borne through- 
 out without one murmur. She possessed a clear and vigor- 
 ous mind, and her piety was uncommon. About four years 
 before she died, a decided change in her religious views and 
 feelings was occasioned by her hearing her brother preach 
 from these words in Ezekiel, 20th chapter and 37th verse, 
 "And I will cause you to pass under the rod, and I will 
 bring you into the bond of the covenant." She frequently 
 confessed, that, till she heard this sermon, she had not felt 
 religion in its life and power ; and from this time her walk 
 with God became closer, the tenderness of her conscience in- 
 creased, and her holy jealousy over herself was strict and un- 
 wearied. She now" spent much of her time alone, and, in 
 passing the door of her chamber, she might be frequently 
 heard singing penitential psalms. Still, in her inter- 
 course with friends, she was ever cheerful, and void of im- 
 proper religious ostentation. She took great interest in the 
 success of her brother's ministrations, and often spoke in rap- 
 turous strains of her beloved Henry's appearance at the last 
 day, with many of his people as his crown of joy and rejoic- 
 ing. She felt herself deeply indebted to him for the private 
 means of grace which she enjoyed with him, and said one 
 day, when conversing wHth him upon this subject, " What 
 delightful meditations I have had with you on our Lord's 
 visit to the family at Bethany !" "I trust," said her bro- 
 ther, " that you can view .Tesus as the resurrection and the 
 
i)EATH-HED OV MISS MARY BKLFKAGE. 225 
 
 life, and answer his question to Martha, ' Whosoever liv^eth 
 and beUeveth in me, shall never die — Believest thou this?'" 
 '' Yes,"" was her reply, " I believe ; Lord, help thou mine 
 unbelief. It was when I saw myself the chief of sinners, 
 that I found Him the chief of Saviours."' Her Bible w^as 
 her principal study, though she read a number of the best 
 religious authors ; of these, her favourites were, Marshall 
 on Sanctification, Howe on the Redeemer's Tears, Haly- 
 burton's Life, &c. 
 
 Five months before she died, this meek and humble 
 Christian was taken very ill, and, during all this time, from 
 the nature of her complaint, she w^as unable to lie down in 
 bed, in which, or in a chair, she was obliged to maintain the 
 sitting posture. Her affliction, how^ever, did not disturb the 
 serene composure of her mind. She w^ould say "Ah ! what 
 has religion done for me ; unless the law of the Lord had 
 been my delight, my soul would have perished in my afflic- 
 tion. All these seven years, I have never put up a petition 
 for the removal of my trouble ; I have only prayed that it 
 may be sanctified for my spiritual improvement." So much 
 indeed was the law of God her delight in trouble, that w^hen 
 in the morning she was asked how" she had been during the 
 night, she took the Bible in her hand, and pointed to the 
 consolatory passages, upon which she had been meditating 
 during its silent watches. It was once remarked to her, that 
 she might have much suffering to pass through ere she 
 reached heaven, and this was her reply, — " Hear what God 
 has said to me, ' As I have sworn that the waters of Noah 
 shall no more go over the earth, so have I sworn that I will 
 be no more wroth with you, nor rebuke you.' With faith in 
 that promise, I will set my face like a flint to all that the 
 Lord shall be pleased to appoint to me. I am only vexed at 
 your long watching. Betsy's pale face distresses me. After 
 I am gone, you must take a jaunt for a change of air. Al- 
 w^ays associate me with your happiest hours, — never think of 
 me in sorrow or gloom. I trust I am going to the full eii- 
 joyment of my Saviour's purchased blessings. Remember 
 
226 DEATH OF HIS SISTER ELIZABETH. LETTER. 
 
 always how happy we have been."" From the nearness of 
 the manse to the church-yard, the earth ratthng above the 
 coffin, during an interment, could be heard by her in her 
 room. This was noticed one day by one of her sisters, as a 
 melancholy sound, and as revolting to the feelings of nature. 
 " Ah ! no," she said, " life and immortality are brought to 
 light by the Gospel. Death to me has no terror, and the 
 grave no gloom. I can contemplate with complacency my 
 body lying in the grave. I may be mistaken in my better 
 hopes beyond it ; yet surely, if the Lord had meant to slay 
 me. He would not have showed me such favour." On the 
 last day of her life, when it was thought she was insensible, 
 she heard her sisters' lamentation over her, and, with some 
 effort, said feebly, " Remember, remember how happy we 
 have been." She died on the 24th of May 1838. On the 
 Sabbath after her funeral, Dr Belfrage preached from these 
 words, " We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be 
 absent from the body, and present with the Lord." Among 
 his manuscripts there is a paper, written about this time, in 
 short-hand, commencing with these words, from Jeremiah 
 22d chapter and 18th verse, " Oh ! my sister." 
 
 The gloom wdiich the death of this sister had spread over 
 the manse, was not yet dissipated; when the Lord again vi- 
 sited him with another bereavement. His sister Elizabeth 
 died about seven months after this, on the 25th December 
 1833. He thus communicates the mournful intelligence to 
 a friend : — 
 
 " Falkirk, Decejnher 27, 1833. 
 
 " My Dear Friend, — I have to communicate to you the sad 
 tidings of the death of my sister Elizabeth, which took place on 
 Wednesday, at half-past three in the morning. About a fortnight 
 ago, she began to feel uneasy, with pain in the stomach, loathing 
 at her food, and great debility ; but we did not apprehend any 
 fatal result, till last Sabbath, when she was seized with vomiting 
 of blood. This returned again and again, in spite of every me- 
 dical effort to check it, till exhausted nature sunk in death. 
 
 " Amidst severe suffering, the gentleness of her spirit Avas still 
 apparent. The blood and the mercy of the Redeemer were her 
 
THE DEATH OF A SISTER AFFECTING. S27 
 
 refuge and her hope ; and, fully aware that death was approach- 
 ing, she meekly bowed her head to the stroke. 
 
 *' My sisters are exceedingly affected. To them the sweet- 
 ness of her dispositions made her society most delightful ; and 
 they feel that the Lord, in lessening their number, is taking from 
 a home of love, those who were to it a charm and a blessing. 
 The Lord will, I trust, fill up these blanks by His own presence 
 and kindness, and comfort their hearts against grief on every side. 
 I request, my dear friend, your prayers that God may sanctify 
 these bereavements for the good of our souls, and give grace and 
 mercy to help in the time of need. 
 
 " I received last night a notification of the death of Mr Hus- 
 band of Dunfermline, which struck me much. May his father's 
 God be the God of his family ! 
 
 " This has been a season of great sickness and mortality in 
 this place and neighbourhood. The Lord's voice has been cry- 
 ing to us in tones solemn and awful. May it awaken to serious 
 thought, and produce an active solicitude for salvation." 
 
 There is something peculiarly affecting in the death of a 
 sister. When we follow to the grave the remains of a 
 father, we mourn the loss of one to whom we are bound by 
 numberless ties of gratitude, whose arm was constantly ex- 
 tended to protect or aid us, and whose affection was ever 
 ready to devise an excuse for our waywardness or folly ; and 
 we are dismayed at the thought, that we now, for the first 
 time in our life, stand alone in the world, the prop on which 
 we leaned with so much confidence and security having been 
 for ever struck from beneath us. When a brother is removed 
 from us by death, we feel that one of the strongest bonds 
 that united us to the world has suddenly been rent asunder, 
 that we have been deprived of one whose friendship was be- 
 yond the suspicion of base or sordid motive, whose counsel 
 cheered us amid doubt and difi^culty, and whose approbation 
 rewai-ded our labour and lightened our toils. But when 
 the cold grave closes over the ashes of a sister, we feel that 
 the tyrant hath smitten us on the tenderest part. It was she 
 who first awakened in us those better and softer sensibilities 
 
2^8 CHAKACTEIl AND DEATH-BED OF MISS E. BELFRAGE. 
 
 which unite us to our kind, whose affection charmed our 
 hours of relaxation, and whose sympathy soothed us amid 
 weariness or disappointment, while her encouragement, and 
 the pride and gratification she would have experienced in our 
 success, were an unceasing excitement to aspire after excel- 
 lence. These, and sentiments such as these, coupled with 
 that protection which her feebler frame and gentler nature 
 demanded from our ruder and more masculine constitution, 
 form a tie between a brother and a sister which can be 
 equalled only by conjugal or parental affection. 
 
 By a mind like Dr Belfrage's, so admirably fitted for 
 friendship and domestic enjoyment, the death of his sister 
 Elizabeth must have been severely felt. She had been the 
 companion of his earliest days ; the friend of his maturer 
 years, she participated in all his schemes of benevolence, and 
 approved and stimulated him in his many labours for pro- 
 moting the best interests of humanity. 
 
 During the whole of the last night of her illness, Dr 
 Belfrage was in deep affliction of spirit, and considerably in- 
 disposed in health. When it became evident that her hours 
 on earth were to be few, he seldom left her pillow. He re- 
 turned to Rose Park about eleven o'clock, to worship God 
 with his own family; for with this good man no excuse 
 could justify the omission of this religious duty. After this 
 he went back to the Manse, and remained with his sister 
 about an hour, when it was thought she had in some mea- 
 sure recovered. His mind, however, could obtain no rest ; 
 he was afraid she might die in his absence ; and though very 
 unwell, he returned again to the house of affliction, and re- 
 mained till half-past three in the morning, when her " spirit 
 returned to God who gave it." Of her many excellencies, 
 and of the solemnities of this last scene of her life, we shall 
 permit one to speak who was the witness of both : — 
 
 " She was naturally of a delicate constitution, and was 
 therefore the object of our tenderest care, as well as of our 
 fondest affection. Her gentle spirit and amiable manners 
 made her the beloved of all classes ; and an atmosphere of 
 
CHARACTER AND DEATH-BED OF MISS E. BELFRAGE. 229 
 
 peace and purity ever surrounded her. Her sweet temper 
 had a charming influence over others ; and w^here she was, 
 there could be no discord. She was hvely and cheerful, w^tli 
 a great deal of pleasantry and humour. After her sister's 
 death, her pale cheek, and emaciated form, alarmed her 
 friends, though she herself never complained, and never spoke 
 of herself as being ill. In the autumn she was seized with 
 influenza. This left great weakness, and her buoyancy of 
 spirit w^as gone. She now slowly drooped, but still uttered 
 no complaint, till wnthin ten days of her death. Her read- 
 ing was of a different caste from Mary's, and was more 
 simple. She said, after her death, ' we will read those books 
 that Mary relished, that we may imbibe more of her spirit.' 
 She read, at this time, Payson's Memoirs, and spoke much 
 of his deep piety. She perused also a manuscript memoir of 
 of a young lady, which was drawn up by a brother, and felt 
 deeply interested in its contents. She would often exclaim, 
 when reading it, ' Poor Agnes, poor Agnes !' We thought 
 it too much for her, and wished her to lay it aside, but she 
 would not give it up till she finished it. She often reverted 
 to it, saying, ' Happy Agnes, she is free from all her troubles 
 now.' 
 
 " No danger was apprehended till within two days of 
 her death ; and it was but two or three hours before her dis- 
 solution that we felt the dread messenger to be near. Her 
 brother spent the most of that evening with her, that by his 
 prayers and conversation she might be comforted. While 
 he w^as telling her of some of her mother's pious experience, 
 she fell into a long faint, and, on her recovery she said, 
 ' Henry, what was it my mother said ?' It was now getting 
 late, and she washed him to go home, and take some rest. 
 He retired into another room ; and when she missed him, 
 she said, ' Henry is not away without bidding me good 
 night.' He again approached the bedside ; and while she 
 calmly put out her hand, she, in the most touching manner, 
 said, ' Good night, my dear Henry.' Neither of them was 
 aware that death was so near ; but, from her extreme weak- 
 
230 CHARACTER AND DEATH-BED OF MISS E. BELFRAGE. 
 
 ness, he was afraid that the least agitation might prove fatal. 
 Though now suffering the most excruciating agony, not a 
 murmur escaped her ; and in the intervals after long faints, 
 she was employed in prayer and silent ejaculations, accom- 
 panied with the frequent lifting up of her hands. Observing 
 her composure, we said, ' Dear Betsy, are you not afraid to 
 die ?' ' No,' she replied firmly, ' my hopes rest upon my 
 Saviour's finished work ;' and after some other endearing ex- 
 pressions of love to her sisters, she cried, ' O dear N , 
 
 lift me up,' and, falling upon that sister's neck, she expired. 
 
 " Where is the brother that led us to the Saviour in that 
 trying hour, when we w^ere struck dumb by the blow of the 
 Almighty ? As we wept over our dead, he said to us, ' Go, 
 and tell Jesus, there is no heart like his for compassion and 
 tenderness ; his ear is ever open to the cry of his people. He 
 alone can bind up the broken heart, and say, peace be to the 
 wounded spirit. O look from a dead sister to a living Re- 
 deemer, and seek comfort in religion, for out of her resources 
 you can alone be supported. AVhile you now stand by her 
 corpse, dwelling upon her endearing qualities, the purity of 
 her mind, the faultlessness of her character, and her amiable 
 manners, bless God for these ; but, O, think of her humble 
 trust in a Saviour, and calm submission under affliction : 
 when the call came thus sudden, she was enabled to meet it 
 with meek resignation. I see much of the Lord's goodness 
 in this, and much to be thankful for ; from her lively dis- 
 position, I was afraid death would come in great terror to 
 her. Let us bless God, then, for the humble taith and meek 
 patience of our dearest sister. O let us imitate her lovely 
 example, and imbibe her mild and gentle spirit.' " * On the 
 Sabbath after the interment of this sister, her afflicted bro- 
 ther discoursed from the 18th to the 17th verses of the 103d 
 Psalm. 
 
 Along with these hea\^^ bereavements, Dr Belfrage was 
 at this same time called upon to mourn the loss of his cousin, 
 
 * At the 69th page of the second volume of Dr Belfrage's Exposition of the 
 Catechism, will be found some further account of the last illness of this lady. 
 
LAST DAYS OF DR JOHN BELFRAGK. 231 
 
 Dr John Belfrage, minister of Slateford, who died at Rothe- 
 say (whether he had gone for the benefit of his health), upon 
 the 16th of May 1833, about a week before the decease of 
 Miss Mary Belfrage. 
 
 Of this relation, he has left behind him, in manuscript^ a 
 most interesting memoir. It is with much satisfaction that 
 we submit to the reader the concluding part of it, in which 
 there is a most affecting account of the deep afflictions through 
 which Dr John passed, in the last days of his life. This 
 admirable and talented man is fully entitled to such a mark 
 of respect in the pages of this biography ; and the circum- 
 stance of its being drawn up by Dr Henry will be sufficient 
 to secure for it an attentive perusal. 
 
 " Soon after this, his own health began to droop. It 
 commenced with breathlessness, brought on by exertion, 
 quickness and irregularity of pulse, and an uneasy feeling 
 across the chest. ' I have remained," said he, ' hours in 
 bed, without being able to sleep, from such sensations. I 
 find it necessary to be very cautious in all my movements ; 
 to be so temperate as to taste nothing but water ; and to 
 view the world w4th the apathy that cares little for its 
 smiles or its frowns. I have now served in the Gospel 
 twenty-five years, and begin to think my best days over. 
 I wish to render familiar to my mind, the last scene, and to 
 be preparing for it. I neither repine, nor am I very anxious, 
 and hope that, w^hatever happens, I shall not disgrace, by 
 any unmanly or unchristian feeling, either my house, profes- 
 sion, or office.' 
 
 " It was about this time also, that the health of his only 
 son began to droop. This young man, whose talents were 
 of the first order, and whose disposition and manners were 
 uncommonly amiable, had just finished his education, and 
 was about to settle in the medical line, in a sphere where 
 his success seemed certain, wdien his health became deli- 
 cate, and anxiety and alarm were strongly excited in his fa- 
 ther's heart. The efforts made, and the care which was ex- 
 ercised about him, were so effectual, that the unfavourable 
 
232 LAST DAYS OF DR JOHN BELFKAGE. 
 
 symptoms passed away. His father judged it prudent to 
 send him to Chatham, to spend the winter, where he might 
 be less exposed to cold and dampness ; where, under the roof 
 of a medical friend, all care would be taken of his health and 
 comfort ; and where he might have such a measure of active 
 practice as might tend to his improvement, and to his cheer- 
 fulness. By his father's pious care, blessed as it was of God, 
 he had attained that knowledge of the Gospel, those impres- 
 sions of things unseen and eternal, and those devout habits, 
 which it w^as thought would qualify him for a life of holy 
 and benevolent utility, but by which God intended to pre- 
 pare him for a long course of suiFering, to be endured with 
 the faith and patience of the saints. He sent him away, 
 commending him to God, and to the word of his grace, and 
 anticipating for him a guidance and a care far beyond what 
 the solicitations of friendship, or the pity of a father could 
 exercise. The following extract from his first letter to him 
 will show^ how wise his counsels were as a father, and how 
 pious his solicitude for his best interests : — 
 
 " ' I am happy to think that your passage was not tedious. 
 You was not unfortunate in encountering a storm, as it would 
 give you an idea of the sea, when violently agitated ; and the 
 temporary sickness you felt may be followed by good effects. I 
 cannot tell you what relief it affords to my mind, that you are 
 
 placed under my friend Dr M You will fall in with books 
 
 suited to your taste ; the labours of the surgery will amuse you ; 
 you will have an opportunity of seeing interesting cases ; and 
 there is so much of good sense in my friend, of accurate observa- 
 tion, and of truth and modesty, that you cannot fail to be both in- 
 structed and pleased. His rehgious character, too, cannot but 
 command your respect ; and, from the influence which his piety 
 has in purifying his principles of action, in rendering him bene- 
 volent, upright, and faithful, and procuring him the respect and 
 confidence of the numerous circle in which he moves, I would 
 hope that you will be still more impressed with its real worth, 
 and its relative utility ; and that, without it, a man wants what is 
 very essential to his well-doing in this world, and to his happiness 
 
LAST DAYS OF DR JOHN BELFRAGE. 233 
 
 in the next. I hope you will remember that you are under the 
 eye of God ; that you will be sincere and fervent in your prayers 
 to Him, day after day, and that it will be your earnest desire 
 that this change of scene which has been resorted to for the bene- 
 fit of your health, may be conducive to your moral improvement. 
 Be careful in guarding against cold, avoid night, and go to your 
 bed with your feet warm ; be polite to all ; and to the family 
 where you live, let your manner be respectful and attentive, eager 
 to please, and ready to obey.' 
 
 " For a while he went on happily, for he was treated as a 
 son, and his engagements in medical practice were such as 
 deeply to interest, but never to fatigue him, when one even- 
 ing he was seized with vomiting of blood, and the darkest 
 fears as to his life were excited. The sad tidings were sent 
 
 down to his father by Dr M , and a few lines were added 
 
 to the letter, by William, to soften the intelligence ; and, 
 while he expressed his wish to have been near him, besought 
 him not to come, if it was thought it would be injurious to 
 his health to attempt it, and requested him to pray for him. 
 He w^as at that time so much aifected by his own disease, 
 that it was with the utmost difficulty he could ascend the 
 stair of his ovrn dwelling. ' Never can I forget," says a 
 friend, much with him, ' the memorable day in which he re- 
 ceived the heart-rending intelligence. After reading the letter 
 to me, he said, I have not yet made up my mind how to act ; 
 I will look to God for guidance ; and, though I have a wish 
 to leave home to-night, that I may see him in life, we must 
 not give way to our feelings ; we must endeavour to keep 
 each other up, and to submit to the will of our heavenly father."* 
 " Next morning he left Edinburgh in the mail for London ; 
 and a more dreary journey can scarcely be conceived. There 
 was much reason to fear that he might die by the way, or 
 find himself unable to proceed ; or that the shock of meeting 
 with his son in the agonies of death, might utterly over- 
 whelm his soul ; but he went away leaning on the hope of 
 Israel, and the Saviour thereof, in the time of trouble. The 
 
234 LAST DAYS OF Dll JOHN BELFRAGE. 
 
 words by which Jacob was encouraged in a dark and lonely 
 journey, were spirit and life to him : — ' Behold I am with 
 thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, 
 and will bring thee again to the land, for I will neA^er leave 
 thee; 
 
 " In a letter to a friend, he gives a very interesting account 
 of his journey, and of the meeting with his son. 
 
 " ' I stood my journey much better than I expected. I had a 
 very quiet passenger on to Doncaster. Afterward we had two 
 Scotsmen, who had settled in London, and we were soon yoked 
 in conversation. I endeavoured to avoid thinking, as much as 
 possible, and was glad to talk to divert my trains of thought. 
 One of these Scotsmen was of service to me when we landed at 
 the Post-office, in getting a hackney-coach to convey me to the 
 place where I should find a coach to Chatham ; he accompanied 
 me, and saw me ready to start. We arrived in London a little 
 past seven. I breakfasted at the inn, and set out for Chatham at 
 eight. My journey to Chatham was a very painful one, espe- 
 cially as I approached the scene M'hich was to disclose to me the 
 reality of the case. He happened to be partially asleep when the 
 
 coach stopped at the door. After some little time, Mr M went 
 
 to his apartment, and remotely prepared him to expect me in the 
 course of the day. Sometime after, he went again, and informed 
 him that I was come. By-and-by I went into his bed-room, af- 
 fecting as much coolness as possible. Not being allowed to speak, 
 except in ayes and noes, we had no conversation. On coming 
 down stairs, I was very much overwhelmed, and felt it difficult 
 to act with any thing like manlj- firmness. I have been sitting 
 beside him for some hours, have told him some news of home, 
 and have rubbed his chest with some liniment. This has had 
 the effect of making both his feelings and mine more comfortable. 
 I hope my presence may soothe him, and keep his pulse easy. 
 Should there be no increase of expectoration, and should hectic 
 fever keep off, still there is hazard of the return of the vomiting 
 of blood ; and long-continued care will be necessary. How 
 thankful I am tliat I have seen him alive, and have not all at once 
 been left desolate and to mourn.' 
 
LAST DAYS OF Dll JOHN EELFRAGE. ^S5 
 
 " Every thing was done for the restoration of his health 
 that medical skill or kind aif'ection could prompt or execute. 
 ' You can scarely conceive, he says, how much is done 
 daily to relieve his complaints, and to give him greater free- 
 dom in breathing ; his limbs are rubbed every night with a 
 strong liniment, and his back, breast, and sides. Two hours 
 are spent in this way every evening. The cough is thus 
 relieved, the expectoration is rendered more easy, and his 
 nights more comfortable."* Religion shed its power and its 
 consolation and hope over the scene. Sweet to the sufferer 
 were the promises read by a father's voice, and the prayers 
 which rose from a father's heart. ' The courage, the com- 
 posure, and pious resignation,"* says he, in a letter, ' which 
 William displays, are very wonderful. One day, he said to 
 me, ' you are very keen-eyed to-day, what is the matter 
 with you, be candid, and tell me ?'' I told him, that I had 
 noticed, that when he was asleep his eyes were partially 
 opened, and that I looked on it as a bad sign. He replied, 
 that he ' did not know that before, but that he had felt his 
 mind somewhat earied of late, and felt himself dreaming 
 when he was awake.' He added, ' I have done with the 
 world now. I was once very keen about my profession, but 
 I never think of it now ; what a vain world is this. I am 
 not sorry to leave it ; I am sorry to leave you, — you are my 
 all ; but we will meet again. I have not assurance of my in- 
 terest in Christ ; but my dependance is on him, my hope is 
 in him, and I am resigned.' On other occasions he said a 
 great deal more to the same purpose. This is a season of 
 severe trial. O that we could leave events to God, mind 
 the duties of to-day, and rely on the promise, ' As thy day 
 is so shall thy strength be."* 
 
 "It was while thus watching and ministering, in af- 
 fectionate solicitude, that he received accounts of the illness 
 of his mother. She had come to spend her last days in 
 Slateford ; and was, when he left it, though frail, still able to 
 attend divine worship. She was meek, humble, contented, 
 and prayerful. After he went away, her asthma became 
 
236 LAST DAYS OF DR JOHN BELFRAGE. 
 
 more severe ; and after some weeks of suffering, she died be- 
 fore her son was able to return. He needed nothino- to re- 
 mind him of a relative so revered by him ; for in every act of 
 kindness and care he performed for his son, he felt the ten- 
 derness of heart of which he had been the object, and which 
 becomes more intense in proportion to the suffering and 
 helplessness of those to whom it points. ' I am sorry,' says 
 he in a letter, ' that I cannot be with her. My health 
 makes it impossible for me at present to undertake such a 
 long journey ; and the situation of my poor Billy does not 
 allow of my absence from him. Tell my mother to trust to 
 God ; and though he should slay her, to put her trust in him. 
 What else, or what better can she do ; she cannot trust in 
 children, in friends or worldly w^ealth, — they are all evan- 
 escent. Let her, then, cleave to God, who is revealed to us 
 in Christ, and say, this God shall be my God for ever and 
 ever ; and should we never meet again in this world, I hope 
 we will in another, where our comforts will not be embit- 
 tered by sickness and death, nor our activities and rejoicings 
 damped by age and infirmities."' 
 
 " The interest which he expressed in the peace and edifi- 
 cation of his people, and in the sickness and death which 
 happened in some of their families, and the sympathy w^hich 
 he felt in the death of some of his friends in Scotland, are 
 expressed by him in various letters, and show the powerful 
 sense of duty and charity which habitually influenced him, 
 amidst feelings and occupations which might have been sup- 
 posed to absorb his mind, and to supersede every other. He 
 mentions his being told, while in Chatham, of a gentleman 
 there who had received intelligence of the death of a daugh- 
 ter, an only child, in India, and whose family were found, 
 by one w^ho called on them to condole w^ith them, not only 
 comforted, but cheerful. There is, he remarks, something 
 marvellous to me in this state of feeling. ^ly happiness is 
 so much bound up with the life of my friends, that when 
 any of them very dear to me are taken away, the world be- 
 comes a void to me, and my power of enjoyment for a time 
 
LAST DAYS OF DR JOHN EELFKAGE, 287 
 
 is gone. What a mercy my boy is yet spared to me. If he 
 is taken from me, I hope God will make * his gmce sufficient 
 for me, and perfect his strength in my weakness.' 
 
 " In one of his letters from Chatham he remarks, ' It was 
 twenty-eight years yesterday since I was settled at Slateford. 
 In lookino- back, I have e^one throuo^h a great deal. I can 
 truly say, I have been interested in the welfare of my people, 
 both spiritual and temporal ; and that if I have come less 
 boldly and prominently forward than others, it has not been 
 from carelessness, but from a certain degree of diffidence. 
 My laboui-s are not likely to continue long ; but as long as 
 God enables me, I shall abide by my part, and do my best, 
 and leaving fools to struggle and dispute about trifles in 
 their own vulgar and offensive w^ay, I shall be content with 
 the humble character of a country pastor, faithfully warning 
 the careless, and conducting the wise and good in the w^ay 
 everlasting. In looking back on the scenes of sickness and 
 sorrow through which I have passed, I am disposed to say, 
 with Jacob, " Fev/ and evil have the days of my pilgrimage 
 been ;" and, in looking forward to the days of darkness I may 
 yet see, my soul faints within me ; but all is ordered, and 
 w^ell ordered, — and I hope that God, who has guided and 
 supported me from my youth, will not forsake me when I am 
 becoming old."' 
 
 " It will not appear surprising that his own health was 
 materially affected by this long series of anxiety and watch- 
 ing. His respiration became more difficult, and his strength 
 sunk so rapidly, that to some it seemed likely, that instead 
 of going to the grave of his son mourning, his son should put 
 his hand on his eyes. There v*^as so little hope felt as to 
 either, that it seemed doubtful to his medical friend which 
 of the two should die first. He felt as if in the situation 
 described in the forty-second Psalm, where it is said, ' Deep 
 calleth unto deep at the noise of thy water-spouts, all thy 
 waves and thy billows pass over me.' This passage he had 
 felt as most applicable to his case on the death of his wife^ 
 and now it occurred to him as still more appropriate ; but he 
 
^88 LAST JJAYS OF 1)H JOHN BELFKAGE. 
 
 felt that he had not now that vigorous health so necessary to 
 give firmness to resignation, and holiness to hope. He 
 rallied a little before the crisis of his son's death arrived ; 
 and he thus describes it, and the impression which it made 
 on him : — 
 
 " ' The discharge of blood was eifected by coughing ; and 
 after continuing about two hours, it stopped. It returned on 
 Saturday. We continued to apply cold water almost in- 
 cessantly to the tace and hands, and succeeded in stopping it ; 
 but on ^londay it came back, and as Dr M. was engaged, 
 and ^Ir M. was unwell, I had to struggle with it alone. I 
 have sat by him constantly ; and when he coughs, and his 
 face becomes flushed, I wash his face and hands with cold 
 water, AVhen I am alone with him, during the night, I 
 feel painfully anxious. There is little sleep ; and the 
 least cough rouses my fears, and calls me to my duty. 
 Through the mercy of God, I have succeeded in preventing a 
 return of the bleeding for fifty-two hours ; but the fatal 
 issue is pressing on. During the sad struggle we endea- 
 voured to conceal our feelings, but this was impossible ; he 
 asked me to tell him if I thought there w^as immediate dan- 
 ger, or if he might survive a week. I told him that I did 
 not think his disease would run such a rapid course. He 
 asked me if he died at Chatham, where I intended to bury 
 him. I told him. Then he said, it was of no great conse- 
 quence, but he would wish to be in the same ground with 
 me, and that it would not perhaps be a very great expense to 
 get his body conveyed in a ship to Scotland. I said I would 
 think of it, and do what was right ; and that expense would 
 not be regarded in such a case. He said, that though he 
 spake thus about the body, he was most deej^ly concerned 
 about his soul. Upon this subject I conversed with him at 
 great length. He lamented his want of deep conviction of 
 the evil of sin ; but declared that all hi:-; hope of accept lUce 
 with God, and of happiness through eternity, was fixed on 
 Jesus Christ, and his redemption. After I had talked and 
 prayed with him. ho said he was quite resigned to live or to 
 
T-AST DAYS OF Dll .JOHN HELKU A{;K. 239 
 
 die ; that it was a vain and sinful world we were in ; that 
 there were only a few he was sorry to leave ; he said he 
 would soon meet with me again."* 
 
 " Such was his fortitude, that he could contemplate symp- 
 toms of approaching mortality with a calmness of which his 
 father could not always maintain the appearance. In a burst 
 of grief, which all his vigour of mind could not enable him 
 to suppress, he mildly and firmly said to him, ' O, father, 
 that is not like you." And this was not the affectation of a 
 philosophic calmness, but the firmness of a trust in God 
 which he was enabled to exercise, and which showed itself 
 superior to all the regrets and the fears of nature. 
 
 "" He asked him if he had made his will ; he told him he 
 had, and read the scroll to him. He was quite satisfied ; and 
 said, you are doing all the good you possibly could with the 
 property. The only solicitude he felt was about the com- 
 fort of those he loved, when they might be solitary and 
 helpless ; and it was soothing to him to think, that when he 
 could not minister to them in person, what would have be- 
 longed to him might be useful to them. Of the affectionate 
 bequest of the dying it may be said, for the living have often 
 felt it — ' A blessing is in it.' 
 
 " In the last letter he wrote before his son's death, he 
 mentions a letter having reached him from a relative in 
 Scotland, and that it would be the last he would ever re- 
 ceive. He states the deep seriousness which he continued 
 to manifest, and which seemed to increase as the crisis ap- 
 proached ; how he professed his repentance for the sins of his 
 youth ; his entire reliance on the Saviour ; that he was now 
 done with the world, and was entirely resigned to the will of 
 God. This is indeed a time of trial ; but ' be still,"* says 
 Jehovah, ' and know that I am God f be strong in the grace 
 that is in Christ Jesus. 
 
 " It was but a short while after this that his son died ; and 
 I cannot attempt to describe his feelings at that period, nor 
 when the corpse of his son was taken away to be conveyed 
 by sea to Colinton, while, from his own great debility, he 
 
 q2 
 
240 LAST DAYS OF »!< JOHN IJKLFRAGE. 
 
 was unable to accompany it. This must be left to the tender 
 heart to conceive. It was some weeks after ere he was able 
 to travel to Scotland ; and amidst all the courage he could 
 muster, it was evident how strongly he felt his return to 
 scenes which had lost their sweetest charm for the heart. 
 It was remarked how much his mind seemed now detached 
 from the cares and the attractions of the world ; and that, 
 while there was still more gravity in his manner and con- 
 versation, it was so far from being sullen and repulsive, that 
 it was felt as stamping a sacredness on his sorrow, and as at- 
 tracting more sympathy the less it sought it. While he 
 deeply felt all the sad circumstances connected with his be- 
 reavement, he was alive to all the comforts which the pro- 
 vidence and grace of God had afforded him. Gratitude is 
 the noblest feeling, and hope the best consolation of the 
 bleeding heart. In conversation with a friend he said, ' We 
 must not be ungrateful ; we must not forget the pleasure we 
 had in his society for many years ; he rarely gave us pain, 
 and we are sure that he is far happier at this moment than 
 we could ever have made him. Though vie know not now, 
 we shall know hereafter. Even so, Father, for so it seemed 
 good in thy sight.' To another friend, who had come to 
 condole with him, he mentioned, in a very feeling manner, 
 that when his son had been expressing his regret that his 
 convictions of the evil of sin were not more strong, but that 
 he felt his need of a Saviour, had no hope in himself, but 
 relied entirely on Christ's merits, he repeated to him various 
 passages of Scripture, and particularly dwelt on the 7th, 8th, 
 Dth, and 1 0th verses of the 54th chapter of Isaiah. His son 
 said, that is a precious ]3romise, indeed ; I wonder it did not 
 occur to me before. The devout and tender feeling, says my 
 informant, with vrhich Dr Belfrage repeated the conversa- 
 tion, I felt as a proof how deeply he felt the value of those 
 means of consolation which he had so successfully imparted 
 to the heart of his beloved child. 
 
 '' The first public service he performed after his return 
 to Scotland, was at the dispensation of the Lord's Supper, in 
 
LAST DAYS OF DK JOHN 15ELFUAGK. 241 
 
 August 1830. On tliat occasion I officiated for him, and he 
 addressed the communicants at the second table ; and it was 
 peculiarly solemn and melting, for his voice was feeble, and 
 his countenance pale ; but there was such a pathos in what he 
 said, that he w^as listened to with breathless attention, and 
 many tears of nature were mingled with those which piety 
 was shedding at the Saviour's feet. The train of thought he 
 pursued showed a heart in the grave, a heart at the cross, 
 and a heart in heaven. He dwelt upon the power and con- 
 stancy of the love of Christ ; its power to soothe, when the 
 heart that cleaved to us in kindness was cold in the dust, and 
 after going to the Father as our forerunner, shedding light, 
 and hope, and safety, over the path, to all that followed 
 him. 
 
 " In the beginning of the year 1832, his medical friends 
 advised him to try some change of scene, and what a more 
 airy situation would do ; and he was conveyed to his bro- 
 ther's house at Kingsknov/es, but, amidst all possible care 
 and attention, he suffered extreme distress, yet, with ad- 
 mirable calmness declared, that his reliance was on the Sa- 
 viour whom he had preached to them, and expressed his 
 willingness to suffer whatever God was pleased to inflict. 
 
 " To a friend, sitting sorrowing beside him, he said, — 
 ' Look up to God, and you will never want a friend, and do 
 all the good you can.' What a striking testimony was this 
 to the delight he had felt in acts of charity, and to the sweet 
 recollection with which they cheer the hearts of the good, 
 and most affectingly do they attest the mercy with which 
 God had visited him in all the dark scenes of his life. Tried 
 sorely and variously as he had been, there was not an hour 
 or a scene in which God had left him comfortless. The 
 living God had been nearest to his heart in his most bitter 
 separations, and his voice he heard sweetest in the house of 
 silence. He said, I will try and write a sermon on — ' Tri- 
 bulation worketh patience.' This is by no means its natural 
 result. Suffering, and especially continued suffering, wears 
 out the firmness of the vigorous, and the calmness of the 
 
^42 LAST DAYS OF DK JOHN BELFRAGE. 
 
 mildest ; and there is nought but divine grace which can as- 
 sociate with it such a benignant influence. It is in the so- 
 hcitude which it brightens, that hope flourishes ; it is on the 
 sick-bed that it softens, that gratitu<le sings. When suffer- 
 ing the most, his eyes were Ufted upward, and he seemed to 
 be saying, ' the cup which my Father giveth me, shall I not 
 drink it.' After nights of sleeplessness and agony he ap- 
 peared cheerful, and instead of dwelling on the severity of 
 his suffering, would mention the alleviations he had ex- 
 perienced in occasional moments of ease, in the sweet 
 thoughts of holy meditation, and in the rest of his heart in 
 the peace of God. In him that text was strikingly realized, 
 Coiossians i. xi. 
 
 " AVhen he was told of the death of Dr Dick, the intel- 
 ligence was communicated as cautiously as possible. A 
 friend, who had come to see him, expressed his impression 
 that it would be a shock to his feelings ; he paused, and then 
 looking up with an air of tranquil solemnity, said, ' No ; I 
 have for months looked on myself as a man on the brink of 
 eternity. I do not feel the event as a separation ; I rather 
 feel as if it had brought us nearer than before.' 
 
 " In the last visit he paid me, and it was when he was 
 recovering from a severe attack of his malady, he took with 
 him, from my library, a late publication, bearing the title of 
 ' Farewell to Time, or Last Views of Life, and Prospects of 
 Immortality.' It is easy to see how, from the state of his 
 mind, he was led to select it. He found little in it that ac- 
 corded with his feelings and views, and said, ' the time is 
 past when I could be charmed with the beauty of its style ; 
 how coldly it speaks of that Saviour who is all my salvation 
 and all my desire. I look here in vain for the exhibition of 
 that righteousness without which I can have no hope for 
 eternity; and of that grace without which I cannot move 
 one step in comfort to it ; and how unfit are its prayers to 
 express the emotions with which my heart and my flesh 
 would cry out for the living God.' It has been said, that 
 the speculations of the moralist about death and eternity arc 
 
LAST DAY!5 OF DK JOHN BKLFUAGE. 24^3 
 
 disrelished only by the weak and the vulgar, and that they 
 alone demand the rant and the flights of a vain enthusiasm ; 
 but Dr Belfrage, and many such as he, have felt, in sickness 
 and sorrow, that their counsels were like songs to a heavy 
 heart ; that their offices of piety were devotion without 
 heart ; that the hope they magnified was a mere confidence in 
 the flesh ; and that this was their only solace, and all their 
 salvation, — ' It is Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen 
 again, who sitteth at the right hand of God, and who also 
 maketh intercession for us/ 
 
 " In the last summer of his life he went with a friend 
 from England on a tour to the most remarkable places in the 
 V/est Highlands. He was led to this, by the wish he had to 
 enjoy the society of a much valued friend, and by the idea that 
 it might conduce to establish his health ; but the fatigue of 
 travelling, and the keen air to which he was exposed, in 
 climbing the hills and crossing the lakes of that district, 
 were far from being of advantage, and he returned much 
 more feeble than he had set out. He was much interested 
 by what he saw. There is something in the grandeur and 
 sublimity of nature, wdiich accorded with the elevation of his 
 mind and the solemnity of his feelings. In contrasting the 
 strength of the hills with the frailty of man, and the ma- 
 jesty with which, from age to age, they awe the short-lived 
 mortals that gaze on their height, or rest under their shadow, 
 he felt like Hezekiah, ' In the cutting off of my days I shall 
 go to the gates of the grave, I shall behold man no more 
 with the inhabitants of the world.' 
 
 " In the autumn his malady increased on him to a great 
 degree ; and during that season, and for the most of the win- 
 ter, his struggles were severe, yet his patience never failed 
 him, and his trust in God was never shaken. In compliance 
 with the counsel of his much respected friend, Dr Aber- 
 crombie, he resolved to go to Rothesay as soon as the wea- 
 ther permitted. He stood the journey to Glasgow well ; and 
 while there, talked to his friends of the probability of his 
 falling, as he termed it, while at Rothesay, and gave some 
 
244 LAST DAYS OF DR JOHN BELFKAGE. 
 
 directions as to what he wished to be done if the worst took 
 place, with as much cahnness as if he had been s-j^eaking 
 of taking an easy and agreeable journey. He became worse 
 on his way to Greenock ; and it was necessary that he should 
 be put ashore there, and remain for some days in the house 
 of a friend. An effort was made by him to get to Rothesay ; 
 but, after his arrival, his debility increased every day. He 
 was able only once to take an airing in a carriage, and even 
 then tried to amuse his affectionate and anxious attendant, 
 pointing out the fine scenery along the coast ; and when his 
 eye caught sight of some very fine wall-flovrer, he spoke with 
 emotion of the taste and good feeling of the man, who, in the 
 culture of such plants, gratified others as v>^ell as himself. 
 It is in the simple beauty of nature that the Creator's hand 
 is most clearly seen, and on it alone can the sinking eye 
 rest. The gratitude he felt for the kind attentions paid him, 
 was another very pleasing feature in his character as a suf- 
 ferer. Too many of the sick are apt rather to speak of what 
 ought to be done for their comfort, than of what is done ; 
 but the least expression of sympathy he thankfully acknow- 
 ledged ; and if any circumstance pained him in the minis- 
 tration he received, it was the fatigue and anxiety to which 
 his friends were subjected. He would express his gratitude 
 to God for the respite which permitted them to sleep as well 
 as himself; and never neglected to solicit blessings for 
 them when he implored mercy for himself. 
 
 " The interest he felt in the sickness and sorrow of 
 others, beautifully indicated the generous kindness of his 
 heart. He had a cousin who had laboured for some time 
 under the same malady with himself. He heard, with de- 
 light, her pious fortitude, holy peace, and meek acquiescence 
 in the will of God ; and stated his conviction how much such 
 devout tranquility and self-possession were adapted to soften 
 the severity of disease to the sufferer. He was anxious to 
 hear, from time to time, of her condition. Not long before 
 
 he died, he said, M will be much affected when she hears 
 
 that I am gone ; and so she was. She regarded it as a call 
 
LAST DAYS OF DR JOHN BELFRAGE. 245 
 
 from heaven to trim her lamp ; and on the evening of the 
 clay of his fimeral, she entered into rest.* How heautifully 
 does such sympathy remind us of the feehngs of the apostle 
 John, who, endeavouring to soothe his fellow-sufferers, calls 
 himself their brother and companion in tribulation, and in 
 the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ. 
 
 " ' I never,' said a friend who watched him with de- 
 voted and unwearied kindness, 'saw one who had so little 
 fear of death. He was in the parlour the night before he 
 died ; and while suffering extremely from his breathing, we 
 asked him if we would send for his young friend who had 
 come with him to Rothesay, he said, " wait a little, you will 
 do very well, let him enjoy a walk." After he was put to 
 bed, he said, " would you wish me to sit up beside you ?" 
 He said, " No ; it is your night for rest, make yourself as 
 comfortable as you can.'"* Soon after he became much w^orse. 
 I went to him, and he said, with the greatest calmness, " I 
 am dying.'' He requested them to wipe his forehead ; and 
 asked what was the hour. His young friend asked how he 
 felt. He said, " do you mean mentally T' When the reply 
 was made — Yes : he said, " all is well^'' and, looking up, 
 " all is hriglitr He requested him to read to him the 91st 
 Psalm, the concluding part of the fifth chapter of Isaiah, and 
 the last Hymn, and listened with intense earnestness. It is 
 an affecting circumstance, that the passage of Isaiah now 
 read to him, had been most consoling to his wife in her 
 lingering illness, and that with the deepest emotion he dwelt 
 on the lines,— 
 
 '- He gives the conquest to the weak, 
 
 Supports the faulting heart ; 
 And courage in the evil hour 
 
 The heavenly aids impart.' 
 
 " There is a peculiar sweetness in affliction and death in 
 the words of grrace, which God has blessed to those we love, 
 wdien the voice which spoke to their hearts speaks to ours, 
 
 * The allusion is to Miss Mary Belfrago, 
 
246 LAST DAYS OF Dll JOHN BELFEAGK. 
 
 and when the Hght which brightened the dark vale to them, 
 blesses our tailing eves. It w^as thus strengthened by aid 
 from on high, thus kept in perfect peace, thus rejoicing in 
 hope, patient in tribulation and continuing instant in prayer, 
 that he passed through the last scene, and had an entrance 
 ministered to him abundantly into the everlasting kingdom 
 of his Lord and Saviour. His sister-in-law, and a young me- 
 dical friend, were the only persons present ; and they were so 
 struck with what they beheld, that they looked on each 
 other, and said, ' Could you have believed that any thing of 
 the kind could have been so peaceful ; we would not, if we 
 could, have brought him back/ " 
 
 After so large a sketch, we feel it quite lumecessary to 
 add aught by w^ay of eulogy. The facts which have been 
 stated, must have conveyed an impression of bright talents, 
 devoted to the most valuable purposes, — honourable prin- 
 ciples, manifested in a conduct upright, dignified, and gene- 
 rous, — piety, pure, enlightened, and lofty, — kind affections, 
 melting in sympathy, — stedfast in friendship, and zealous in 
 good works, — faith and patience perfected through sufferings, 
 — and Christian character brightening to the last. I heard 
 a voice from Heaven saying to me write, " Blessed are the 
 dead that die in the Lord from henceforth, yea, saith the 
 Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their 
 works do follow them."' The life now surveyed, is rich in 
 the lessons of wisdom, — and may they be received with 
 meekness ; and the death now contemplated is bright with 
 the radiance of hope, — and to the power of that hope may 
 our whole course be a witness, in our seeking the kingdom 
 of God and the righteousness of it, and in the earnest of 
 heaven in our hearts. 
 
247 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 HIS DEVOTIONAL HABITS. 
 
 The Spirituality of his Devotion. His frequent ]\Ieditution on Death. 
 His Habits of Prayer. The excellence of his Prayers. His regu- 
 larity in Prayer. His Manner of Sanctifying the Sabbath. Sab- 
 bath Evening in the Manse. Attention to his Servants. Anecdote 
 of the Conversion of an Old Woman. His recognition of an over- 
 ruling Providence. His remark on the Cholera. His love of 
 Nature. Remarks of M. Necker. His Meditations on the Anniver- 
 sary of his Mother s Death. 
 
 Ix the piety and devotional character of Dr Behrage, there 
 were not a few rich and beautiful features. It is said ad- 
 visedly, when we record of him, that he was eminently a 
 man of God, — and of his life, that it was a life of faith. 
 The remark is inapplicable to him, which has been made of 
 other pious persons, that they have sometimes "frames and 
 feelings which have more connexion with the body than 
 with the mind ; enjo3^ments and depressions, advancements 
 and obstacles, which have more reference to peculiar opinions 
 and imaginary excellence, than to the unchangeable nature 
 of divine truth, or conformity to the character of divine holi- 
 ness. There could be few such passages in his life; his 
 piety rose out of the sacred principles of his belief, and his de- 
 votion cherished itself upon things unseen and eternal. It 
 was inipossible to be much in his presence, and be uncon- 
 vinced that he was one who " endured as seeing God." The 
 
248 SPIlliTUALlTY or HIS DEVOTION. 
 
 mild solemnity of his look imposed reverence, and, perhaps, 
 the uniform seriousness of his thoughts, gave to him that 
 gentle but impressive dignity which might have been mis- 
 understood for a stately indifference. 
 
 His habits of devotion were coeval with his youth. 
 Formed at the first under the watchful eye of religious pa- 
 rents, and upon clear and salutary perceptions of divine truth, 
 they w^ere ever afterward preserved by the earnest and dili- 
 gent use of all the means of grace. In early life he tasted 
 the goodness of God, and therefore held within him the in- 
 extinguishable germ of holiness. His heart was so replete 
 with the tenderest affections, and these were so warmly ex- 
 ercised upon that which was amiable in humanity and sacred 
 in religion, as to sustain, in lovely harmony, all his habits of 
 life with the principles of "the truth as it is in Jesus.'' 
 The remark of ^Ir Douglas, quoted above, may be true of 
 those whose devotion is the creature of occasional impulse, 
 and vdio must be artificially excited before they experience 
 the subduing influences of their faith ; but the piety of such, 
 too nearly resembles the unnatural commotions of the fanatic, 
 or the dream of the enthusiast. True religion, however, is 
 entirely spiritual, and its fine and full melody may be sus- 
 tained without the embrace of the crucifix, the magic of the 
 painter, or the symphonies of the orchestra. From the wild 
 solitudes of nature, when overhung by the craggy precipice, 
 and tar retired in the deep glen, the spirits of our martyrs 
 were raised to loftier aspirations and brighter hopes, than 
 could have been produced by all the pomp and circumstance 
 of the most ceremonious church in Christendom. 
 
 Among the pious, Dr Belfrage stood pre-eminent, at 
 once for the purity and spirituality of his resources, and for 
 the steadiness and regularity with which he applied to them. 
 His attainments in experimental religion were therefore 
 great and influential, and thus there was less likelihood of 
 his losing that glow of spirit in which the good man ad- 
 vances to ])erfection, and with which it is his desire to enter 
 upon glory. To increase his devotional temper, he resorted, 
 
HIS MKDITATIOX ON DEATH. S49 
 
 among the ordinary means, to prayer and tre(|uent medita- 
 tion on death. The latter suhject was mucli upon his mind. 
 Having a presentiment that he might die suddenly, he en- 
 deavoured to " die daily.'" He felt the tremendous import- 
 ance of that solemn change, and made preparation for it a 
 matter of deep and constant interest. The decease of a 
 neighhour or a friend, was certain to engross his meditations ; 
 and many have heen impressed with the uncommon serious- 
 ness of his countenance when such an event was mentioned 
 to him. He acted upon the principle, then, that a life of 
 devotion cannot be maintained where death and its conse- 
 quences are not conscientiously and constantly realized. 
 Such, indeed, is the proper food of piety. " The Christian 
 must live by hope, — the atmosjjhere of this world is not 
 vital air to the believer ; like the diver, he must subsist by 
 continual supplies transmitted down to him from a higher 
 element." * 
 
 But the grand subsistence of his piety was prayer. He 
 prayed without ceasing. This was an exercise in which he 
 above all delighted ; and his qualifications for performing it 
 were of the first order. It was truly a privilege to hear him 
 pouring forth his soul to God, either before the domestic 
 altar, or within the courts of the Lord's house. When en- 
 gaged in the duty, it was evident that he had an awing con- 
 viction of the divine presence, modulated by the most aiFec- 
 tionate confidence in the divine mercy. " The very name of 
 Jehovah issued from his lips embalmed in the devotional 
 fervour of his soul.''-f- His spirit seemed to melt into adora- 
 tion when he made mention of the greatness of God, and into 
 lively aifection wdien he celebrated the grace by which he 
 had been saved ; yea, it sometimes appeared as if he were 
 " out of the body," when, with the burning words of grati- 
 tude, he surrounded the throne from which came down to 
 him light and truth. Prayer was his resort in every season 
 of adversity, to implore deliverance, — or of joy, to offer 
 thanks. Nor were his prayers selfish ; all his friends had an 
 
 * Truths of Religion. f Dr Richardson, 
 
250 HABITS OF PUAYER. 
 
 interest in them, and such of them es}3eeially as might be 
 weeping under the rod. In writing to a friend, he thus al- 
 ludes to the value of prayer : " There is a precious solace in 
 prayer for absent friends in affliction. The heart is soothed 
 by the thought, that there is a hand which ministers to the 
 drooping s])irit with a power and tenderness by which the 
 darkest sorrow is relieved, and that the tears of the separated 
 are mingled before God." An ancient moralist said of him- 
 self, " I am never more in action than when I am alone in 
 my study." This might be affirmed of the prayerful habits 
 of Dr Belfrage. Often, when his library was intruded upon, 
 he was found on his knees. If the secret and fervent com- 
 munions of a saint with his God can in any degree enhance, 
 by consecration, the sacred spot on which they are held, the 
 Library at Rose Park is truly a hallowed scene. The piety 
 of Johnson grew warmer amid the ruins of lona ; and may 
 not the devotion of a Christian rise in the presence of objects 
 which have long been the unconscious witnesses of a myste- 
 rious fellowship between a redeeming God and a regenerated 
 spirit. " Far from me and from my friends, be such frigid 
 Christianitii as may conduct us indifferent over any ground 
 which has been dignified" by a life of faith on the Son of 
 God. 
 
 Dr Belfrage was careful to exemplify the duty of prayer 
 before the members of his family. Ere he left his room in 
 the morning, he knelt down, and in an audible voice, that 
 his partner in life might unite with him, he poured forth his 
 grateful acknowledgements to God for the protection vouch- 
 safed to his family through the night, and implored his grace 
 and presence to be with him through the day. "It is im- 
 possible," says ^Irs Belfrage, in a note to the writer, " for 
 me to describe the affectionate and truly touching manner 
 in which this was done,— it is almost too much for me to 
 think of it." Meditation and prayer, with the reading of the 
 Hebrew Bible, and some judicious commentator, occupied 
 the rest of the morning, till the hour for family worship, 
 when the offerings of domestic piety were laid upon the 
 
MANNEK OF SANCTIFYING THE SABBATH. ^51 
 
 altar. This, indeed, was a duty which he never omitted ; 
 however early it might be necessary for him to leave home, 
 it was first discharged, and the lateness of the hour on his 
 return in the evening, was not regarded as a reason for its 
 neglect. 
 
 When he went forth to the pulpit, or to visit any of his 
 people, it was from the throne of grace that he arose ; and 
 w^hen he came back, it was to fall again before it, and ask 
 the blessing of Heaven on the exercises in which he had 
 been engaged. AVhen about to set out upon a journey, how- 
 ever short, he first called his family together, and com- 
 mended them to the care of the Shepherd of Israel ; and when 
 he returned, it was indeed "to bless his household." 
 
 The first day of the week w^as, in the family of Dr Bel- 
 frage, indeed a Sabbath — a day holy to the Lord. It M'as 
 sanctified in the sacredness peculiar to the habits of the 
 Scottish Presbyterian pastor. In the public ordinances of 
 Christianity he took great delight, was always happiest 
 when officiating;- in his own church, and did not regard it a 
 favour to be relieved in ordinary circumstances from the 
 duties of the pulpit. It was his custom, in the morning, 
 before he rose, to go over in his mind the subjects upon 
 which he was to discourse, that he might be satisfied of his 
 having them fully in his memory. His ordinary time of 
 rising was seven o'clock ; and the interval between that and 
 breakfast was devoted to secret meditation and prayer. Dur- 
 ing the whole of the morning he was absent and solemn in 
 manner, speaking little, and evidently deeply engrossed with 
 the important work before him. He ate very sparingly, and 
 never tasted animal food. When the public services of the 
 day were over, and after he had taken some refreshment for 
 dinner, he retired again to his library, where he remained 
 alone, occupied in reading, and noting down the events of 
 the Sabbath, till seven o'clock. He spent the rest of the 
 evening with his family, either in exhortation, or in perus- 
 ing, along with them, some religious book. At nine o'clock 
 the household was assemlded, and family worship was per- 
 
f^5^ SABBATH EVENIXc; IN THE MAXSE. ANECDOTE. 
 
 formed. Ere lie allowed the servants to leave the room, he 
 catechised them, and addressed them in the most affectionate 
 terms upon those things that related to their peace ; of their 
 moral conduct, and improvement in sacred knowledge, he 
 was very careful. He not unfrequently related to them in- 
 teresting religious anecdotes ; and when he had heard any 
 thinoj fitted to be useful about the members of his conojreo-a- 
 tion, he freely communicated it to them. One Sabbath 
 evening, for instance, not long before his death, when he had 
 been urging upon them the duty and value of prayer, he 
 told them he had been lately visiting an old woman upon 
 her death-bed, who had given him the following account of 
 her own conversion : She had lived, when a child of nine 
 years of age, with two brothers, whose business took them 
 from home early in the morning ; she used to go for water 
 to them in the morning, at five or six o'clock, to a spring at 
 some distance. One morning, when passing a village which 
 lay in her way, and in wdiich lived an aged and infirm wo- 
 man, her attention v/as arrested by hearins^ her enoaofed in 
 deep and earnest prayer. She stood and listened eagerly till 
 the prayer was finished, when new and strange feelings 
 deeply impressed her mind. She had, as she thought, 
 prayed often, but she was now convinced, that if this which 
 she had heard from the solitary worshipper in the cottage 
 was prayer, she had been hitherto in a delusion, and had, in 
 reality, never prated at all. She proceeded to the well un- 
 der the deep impression, that unless she could pray like this 
 old woman, she could neither be happy nor sate. She laid 
 down her pitcher, and immediately engaged in the exercise, 
 which she performed in a fervour of spirit entirely new to 
 her, and which, from that moment, had never subsided. 
 Every day found her more and more thoughtful, and she 
 died in the good hope, through grace, of eternal life. This 
 is a simple specimen of the kind and condescending manner 
 in which he dealt with those who resided under his roof. It 
 ought also to be mentioned here, that before the Sabbath 
 evening closed, he went over to the old manse, in which iiis 
 
RECOGNITION OF PROVIDENCE, AND LOVE OF NATURE. 25S 
 
 sisters resided, to w^orship God along with them, and nourish 
 their piety by holy and spiritual converse. The cotter''s 
 Saturday night has been immortalized in the chastest strains 
 by our rustic Bard ; that of the Sabbath evening of the 
 Scottish pastor, the Genius of poetry need not disdain to 
 sing : even " the heavenly muse'" might wreathe a laurel for 
 her brow, by celebrating the sublime though simple worship 
 which rises from his homely sanctuary. 
 
 The doctrine of a Divine providence superintending and 
 controlling all the events of the human lot, was firmly be- 
 lieved by him ; and he himself never failed to acknowledge 
 God in all his ways, and to trace his footsteps in every cir- 
 cumstance of life. He was much given to mark the import- 
 ance of events regarded by others as trivial. It was a strik- 
 ing remark which he made at the time cholera first broke 
 out in the two towns nearest to Edinburgh and Glasgow, 
 and before any case of the disease appeared in either of these 
 cities : " Methinks I see Jehovah stretching forth his arm 
 over these two cities lying in wickedness, hesitating whether 
 he shall allow the plague to approach, and in mercy giving 
 them space to repent." He liked to give a spiritual cast to 
 the conversation at table, and was sure, if possible, to im- 
 prove it in his grace before, or in his thanksgiving after, 
 meat. In short, his piety was the halo of that spiritual ex- 
 istence which kept him apart from the distempered climate 
 of the world ; and, by its pure and genial influence, sustained 
 in lively action the graces of the Christian. 
 
 Loving as he did the great God of Nature, nature itself, 
 in all the variety of its grand and beautiful scencery, was 
 ever to him a study of deep interest. Though not a scientific 
 botanist, he loved to examine 
 
 " Each ravelled bud, fine film, and fibre-line, 
 
 Traced with nice pencil on the small design." — Darwin. 
 
 He watched, with marked satisfaction, the " shrubs of Rose 
 Park," and took great delight in their tasteful arrangement. 
 Had he loved and realized Jehovah less, his interest in these 
 
 R 
 
S54 MEDITATIONS OX HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 
 
 natural objects would have been comparatively indifterent. 
 The man of mere taste may no doubt enjoy the contempla- 
 tion of them, but his sympathies are grovelling compared 
 with those of the Christian, who traces in every valley, and 
 through every stream, the goodness and wisdom of the bene- 
 volent Creator. The one may have all that joyous feeling 
 which can be conveyed through the medium of mere sense, 
 but the other, by a process of spiritual reflection, has the 
 scenery clothed to him with a mass of moral truth that gra- 
 tifies the soul with the great idea of a present and presiding 
 deity. " The happy idea of a God,"*" says !M. Necker, " at 
 all times softens and embellishes the path of life; and by 
 means of it we become delightfully interested in all the 
 beauties of nature. By it, every thing animated enters, as it 
 were, into communication with us. Yes ; the rustling of 
 the wind, the murmuring of the water, and the gentle agita- 
 tion of the leaves, all excite our reflection and melt our souls, 
 when we discover in them the works of Him whom we love, 
 — when we can there distinguish the vestiges of His foot- 
 steps, and the traces of His intention ; and, above all, when 
 we consider that we ourselves contribute to the display of 
 His power, and the splendour of His goodness.'' * 
 
 It is with peculiar satisfaction that the following Medi- 
 tations are submitted to the reader, as beautifully illustrative 
 of what has been affirmed concerning the piety and devo- 
 tional habits of Dr Belfrage. It has been already noticed, 
 that by the death of his mother he was deeply affected. 
 These Meditations will demonstrate the strength and the 
 godliness of his sorrow. They were composed on the even- 
 ings of the day which commemorated her decease, when he 
 was accustomed to retire from the world, and devote some 
 time to the remembrance of her many excellencies, and to 
 implore from God the wisdom by which she was counselled, 
 and the mercy by which she was made to rejoice. They are, 
 indeed, precious gems ; and though he continued to compose 
 one annually, to the last year of his life, it is to be regretted, 
 
 * M. Necker on the Importance of Religious Opinions. 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 255 
 
 that the change in his mode of writing makes the decypher- 
 ing of them, after the year 1827, very difficult, if not im- 
 possible : — 
 
 MEDITATION I. NOVEMBER 21, 1809. 
 
 On the return of this night on which my dearest friend 
 on earth was taken from me, I approach thy throne, O God, 
 in meek submission to thy will. The tears of sorrow which 
 dim the eye that looks upward to thee, are not the effusion 
 of a grief selfish and rebellious, but of that afiection to a mo- 
 ther which thy Son so strikingly exemplified. Lord Jesus, 
 thou wilt look, I trust, with complaisance, on the fondness 
 with which her memory is cherished ; and on the love with 
 which her excellencies are contemplated. Blessed be thy 
 name, O Lord, that though her death was sudden, we know 
 that she was prepared for it ; though to us it was sorrow 
 upon sorrow, to her it was a dismission in peace ; and that 
 though she is taken from us, she is gone to the Father. 
 Blessed be thy name for that support which thou hast 
 yielded us in the hour of separation, and in the dreary days 
 and nights that have passed over us since. Thou hast not 
 suffered the violence of sorrow to exhaust the strength of the 
 body and the mind. Thou hast placed the aching head on 
 thy breast. Thou hast lifted the shadows of death from the 
 heart. Thou hast had compassion on us, and hast said unto 
 us, weep not. Unless thy law had been my delight, my soul 
 had perished in mine affliction. Blessed be thy name, that 
 our dwelling has been the abode of harmony and kindness, 
 and that my sisters seem so eager to tread in their mother\s 
 steps, and possess so much of her spirit. Blessed be God, 
 that he has enabled me to improve the dispensation to them 
 and to my people. Can I say I have improved it for myself.'^ 
 Lord, I have a feeble hope that it has had some influence in 
 purifying my thoughts and wishes, in calming the violence of 
 my temper, in making me less anxious about the world, in 
 directing my meditations more frequently to death and eter- 
 nity. Alas ! that its influence in these respects has been so 
 
 R 2 
 
25G ilEDITATION'S ON' HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 
 
 small. Lord grant, that in these, and all other fruits of 
 righteousness, it may abound more and more. O that the 
 memory of my mother may be a shield to me from all that 
 is impure, selfish, and degrading; O that it may animate 
 me to all that is pure and honest, just, true, loyely, and of 
 good report. Often has memory and conscience called up 
 before me my failures in duty to her ; in the bitterness of my 
 soul I would say. Lord, lay not these to my charge, nor suf- 
 fer them to tinge with horror the recollections of veneration 
 and love. If I haye been enabled to act as the comforter and 
 the friend of her advanced life, Oh ! what a poor return was 
 it for the unwearied kindness, the indulgent attentions, the 
 tender love of such a mother, so devoted to me. For the 
 sake of thy Son, O God, be pleased to accept of them ; and, 
 O ! let him whisper to my heart, thou didst it unto me. I 
 know not whether the part I have acted to the family sinca 
 her departure is known to her or not, but to thee, O God, it 
 is known, and it is such, I trust, as thou wilt approve. In 
 thy presence, I vow, this night, that they shall be the objects 
 of my care and affection ; and that to walk with them in my 
 mother's steps, shall be the eager and constant wish of my 
 heart. Thou knowest, O Lord, how much her heart was 
 set on my success in the ministry, my good behaviour, my 
 happiness, my salvation ; thou knowest the hopes of these 
 which thy word inspired ; thou knowest the tears and 
 prayers which affectiopate earnestness for these called forth. 
 These tears have been long since wi]3ed away ; her tongue is 
 now silent in the grave. But are not these tears, O God, 
 in thy bottle ; are not these prayers in thy book. O, let me 
 find the fruits of these. Lord, in my being blessed indeed, 
 and in my being kept from evil. O, that the scene which 
 her presence and smile can enliven no more, may be che- 
 rished by thy favour ; O that the services, which her appro- 
 bation can animate no more, may be acceptable in thy sight ; 
 O that the discouragements, against which she can fortify me 
 no more, may be rendered as nothing by the light of thy 
 countenance ; O that the sorrow and melancholy, which she 
 
MEDITATIONS ON Ills MOTIIEli's DEATH. 257 
 
 can soothe no more, may be dispelled by the joys of thy sal- 
 vation. No more can she take my part against those who 
 would depreciate and injure me. Be thou, O Lord, at my 
 riofht hand, and I shall not be moved ; hast thou not said in 
 thy word, I will not leave you comfortless, I will come unto 
 you, — as one whom his mother comforteth, even so will I 
 comfort you, and ye shall be comforted : when my father and 
 my mother have forsaken me, the Lord himself will take me 
 up. These promises are now spread before thy throne ; and 
 1 would say, remember thy word to thy servant, on which 
 thou hast caused me to hope. These promises I w^ould bind 
 about my neck ; I would keep them ever in view, as motives 
 to tranquil submission and holy confidence, and unremitted 
 exertion in thy cause ; and to the Father of the fatherless, to 
 the God of the spirits of the just made perfect, to Him with 
 whom is the consolation on earth and the happiness of hea- 
 ven, be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION II. NOVEMBER 21, 1810. 
 
 On the second return of that night on which my la- 
 mented mother finished her course, and entered into rest, I 
 would worship at thy footstool, in that tender recollection of 
 departed worth and aftection, which thou, O Lord, wilt not 
 despise. The regrets of nature are, through thy wise ordi- 
 nation, become less bitter and severe ; but the impressions 
 of her excellencies w^ill, I trust, be always vivid ; O, that, by 
 means of these, I may be formed to her lively devotion and 
 active virtues ; her deep humility and mild contentment ; to 
 that spirit of peace which was the consolation of her life, 
 and which, through the darkness of sorrow, I saw shedding 
 peace and glory on its close. In the past year, several of 
 her religious acquaintances have followed her into eternity. 
 Often have my feet stood at the grave's mouth. Instead of 
 wandering on the mountains of vanity, let my heart be 
 opened to a solemn attention to the voice that tells me, 
 " Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return ;'' and from 
 the pride of life bring me to say to corruption, thou art my 
 
258 MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 
 
 Father, and to the worm, thou art my mother and sister. 
 This year has been marked by the continuance of entire har- 
 mony in our dwelling. O that, while we live in the kind 
 affections of nature, we ever may grow in the charities of re- 
 ligion. It has been marked by some utility and comfort in 
 my labours. Lord, let my duty ever be my pleasure ; and to 
 the people of my charge and my affection, make me the ad- 
 ministrator of righteousness, the savour of life unto life. 
 This year, too, thou hast led us into a comfortable settle- 
 ment of that property, w^hich, after being long almost entirely 
 locked up from us, promises to yield a plenteous increase. 
 Let me be guided to do ample justice with it to my father's 
 family, and to manifest such generous liberality to them as 
 the spirit of the Gospel requires, and as will be a tribute of 
 honour to the memory of my parents. Oft has it been my 
 regret, that of the fruits of the increase they w^ere not per- 
 mitted to share, but they have a far nobler inheritance ; and 
 they shall be made happy with it whose welfare was dearer 
 to them than their own. With this substance, O Lord, I 
 will honour thee ; suffer not the spirit of avarice, of luxury, 
 or vain glory, to influence my mind ; but let the spirit of 
 charity lead me to abound in alms ; let the spirit of glory 
 lift my affections to things above ; Lord, w^th all the riches 
 of the world, we would be poor without thee, — with all its 
 pleasures, without thee, I would be wretched. This year, 
 too, thou hast laid thy hand upon me, in afflicting my body 
 when far from home ; thanks to God it was so short in its 
 course, and that my return was delayed for so short a period, 
 and that I was not one Sabbath without speaking the word 
 of eternal life in public ; and that the langour, and pain, and 
 weakness my illness left on me, was cheered by sympathy, 
 general and affectionate, and by some tokens of thy fatherly 
 pity.* Let returning health be followed by renewed dili- 
 gence. Let me pass the time of my sojourning here in fear ; 
 and whether I shall die of lingering disease, like one of my 
 
 * He had been taken suddenly ill at Aberdeen, whither he had gone on a 
 jaunt with a neighbouring- brother in the ministry. 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEirs DEATH. 259 
 
 parents, or suddenly, like the other, let my latter end be 
 peace like theirs. The thought is terrific ! I will not ad- 
 mit that the ties of nature were the only bonds that united 
 us to them, we trust we are still one by those ties of grace 
 which the force of death cannot break, nor the power of the 
 graA'e consume, which will be recognized at the resurrection 
 of the dust, as well as when the spirit is received into glory ; 
 let not this hope make us ashamed. Lord, lead me in the 
 way everlasting, for Jesus'' sake. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION III. NOVEMBER 21, 1811. 
 
 On the third return of that night when the death of my 
 mother filled this dwelling with sorrow, I would approach 
 thee as the God of the departed as well as the living ; while 
 the heart melts at the recollection of her pallid countenance, 
 her fatal slumber, my faith would contemplate her as form- 
 ing one of the blessed assembly who have come out of great 
 tribulations, and have washed their robes, and made them 
 white in the blood of the Lamb. I would rejoice in the 
 hope, that the Redeemer will beautify that face with salva- 
 tion, and place on that head the crown of life. When I 
 think on the delight she took in the great things of thy law, 
 I resolve that I will study it more earnestly, and venerate it 
 more highly than ever. Deeply, O Lord, would I lament 
 that I have done so little in cultivating my mother's spirit. 
 Every book that I open, which she was accustomed to 
 read, every ordinance which I attend, or she was accus- 
 tomed to observe, reproaches me for the coldness of my 
 heart, the carnality of my mind. O Spirit of grace, make 
 me what pious relations have been ; and let the humble 
 faith that dwelt in my mother, dwell in me also. O let me 
 be awake fully and constantly to those motives to piety, to 
 active goodness, to all the graces of the Christian temper, to 
 all the circumspection of a duteous life, presented to me in 
 the title, — what my son, — what the son of my womb, — what 
 the son of my vows, — what the son of my prayers. Around 
 us, at this moment, the anwl of destruction is movinsf, and 
 
260 MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 
 
 laying the hopes of many famiUes low.* The voice reaches 
 our ears, Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be 
 comforted, because they are not. Ah, vain world, when the 
 cheek of youth is wet with the tears of filial sorrow, and 
 when age laments that the blossoms of its family have gone 
 up as the dust. From such a world, devote my heart to the 
 living Redeemer, and to the pure delights of his Father's 
 house. I would thank thee for the health, comfort, and 
 love, that have smiled on our dwelling; and that I have 
 found so much of a mother's care and love in my sisters. 
 May the God before whom my Father did walk bless them, 
 and bless me, even me also, O my Father. O let me feel 
 more and more the contentment of the Shunamite, and be 
 sensible that I have her reasons to be satisfied and happy. 
 I dwell among mine own people ; I have enough in the abode, 
 where love has ever smiled, and in a society to whom I may 
 justly apply the language, — mine own and my father's friends. 
 Give me, O Lord, cheerfulness of mind, ardour in the culture 
 of the understanding, and resolution in keeping the heart 
 bent on success in my duty ; continue to me comfort in the 
 relative capacities I sustain, and meetness for the inheritance 
 of the saints in light, for my Redeemer's sake. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION IV. NOVEMBER 21, 1812. 
 
 On the fourth return of that night in wdiich my mother 
 left us to go to Heaven, my heart places itself by her grave, 
 and raises to heaven the cry for mercy. This night of sor- 
 row let me never forget ; let religion, with its workings, 
 sanctify the feelings of nature, and let a Father's voice say 
 unto me, live ; let meditation on my mother's excellencies 
 render me more active than ever in the imitation of them ; 
 let the review of the closing scene of her life excite me to 
 prepare for a departure that may be as sudden as hers. O, 
 my Saviour, I have been, within these few days, employed 
 in the public commemoration of thy sufferings and dying 
 love, in directing my people to thy exercise in thy last 
 
 * Alluding to some epidemic. 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEk's DEATH. '261 
 
 struggle. Pious parents who are gone, behold in the midst 
 of the throne the Lamb, as it had been slain, while we have 
 been partaking of the symbols of thy body and blood. O may 
 I never think of them without feeling as they did, the con- 
 straints of a Saviour's dying love, or go where they went, 
 but in the same spirit of pure and active virtue. This morn- 
 ing an eminently pious man, distantly related to us, and 
 whose sympathy was most consolatory, wdiile in the house of 
 our bereavement, has left the world for glory. I thank thee, 
 O Lord, that I was j^ermitted to witness such a triumph of 
 faith as his last days exhibited; that 1 saw in him the 
 power of religion to brighten all that is gloomy in affliction, 
 and to conquer all that is terrible in death.* O Lord, pre- 
 pare me for such an exit of peace. O let me not, by indo- 
 lence, by vain glory, by regarding iniquity in my heart, by 
 living to myself, prepare for myself a death of horrors in the 
 dwelling where my parents died in the Lord. Instances of 
 sudden death thou seest to be necessary for us ; O that our 
 loins may be girt and our lamps burning. An instance of 
 mortality more hasty in its progress than that of my mo- 
 ther's has occurred in a family in the neighbourhood. In 
 one moment the tabernacle w^as thrown down, and we were 
 called to mark, how, in an hour when we think not, the Son 
 of man may come. The admonition given me by my mo- 
 ther's death, thou hast enforced by another and another in- 
 stance of sudden mortality at our very door. Alas, I have 
 been thoughtless of eternity; I have been presuming on 
 length of days, and in mercy thou wariiest me of my folly, 
 and callest on me to be ready. O prepare me for this mes- 
 senger, w^hose feet may be standing at the door of my dwell- 
 ing ; who may come this night to my pillow, to change my 
 countenance, and to send me away. Last year a melancholy 
 impression prevailed on my mind, that it was to be my last 
 year. In mercy thou hast spared me ; O let me not, when 
 God is adding year to year, add sin to sin. The cough that 
 threatened to waste my strength and shorten my days, thou 
 " Alluding to ISIr Roberts, a distant relation, 
 
26^ :\IEI>1TATI0XS ON HIS .MOTHEtt's DEATH. 
 
 hast fully removed, and I witness this solemn period in 
 firmer health than for some years past. It is of thy mercy 
 that I am not consnmed. O that more vigorous health and 
 cheerful spirits may be attended by more activity and ardour 
 in thy service than before. The Christian world around me 
 is flaming with zeal for the diffusion of the word of Christ. 
 This night, wdiile I lament that the godly have ceased, I 
 would rejoice that the Redeemer is conquering ; and that 
 though eminent saints have closed their course, and are at 
 rest, that the pleasure of the Lord is prospering in Christ's 
 hand. Blessed be God, that harmony, contentment, and 
 sobriety, still abide in our dwelling as before, and that peace 
 and prosperity reign in the congregation. This harvest we 
 have enlarged our psalmody ; we have sung the song of the 
 Lamb, which, I trust, my mother is now singing in heaven. 
 The feeble opposition of prejudices and folly is dying away. 
 O may all opposition to what is wise and good be equally 
 short lived.* This year, O God, thou hast marked by 
 dreadful ravages of war, battles more bloody and desolations 
 more hideous than before. Alas ! almost the whole of my 
 public life has been spent while my country was at war. O 
 let me preach the Gospel of peace amidst its blessings. O let 
 my heart be constantly alive to my mother's fervent devo- 
 tion, habitual piety, unwearied labour, affectionate sympathy, 
 and domestic love. She has left us ; and let me live and die 
 in the faith, that of all that the Father hath given Christ, he 
 shall lose nothing, but raise it up at the last day. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION V. XOVEMBEll 21, 1813. 
 
 On the fifth return of that solemn night, in which our 
 happy dwelling was filled with lamentation, mourning, and 
 woe, I lift my heart to thee the Father of mercies, and God 
 of comfort. Thou didst tear, but hast raised up ; thou didst 
 
 * He here alludes to the introduction of the Scriptural Translations or 
 Paraphrases into the devotional part of public worship, a measure which, at 
 the first, met with considerable opposition, both from Established and Seced- 
 ing congregations. 
 
MEDITATIONS OX HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. '^6S 
 
 smite, but hast bound us up ; thou hast, by the soothing in- 
 fluence of thy paternal sympathy, and by the sweet hope 
 which the Gospel inspires, changed the storm into a calm, 
 and turned the shadow^s of death into the morning. Oh ! let 
 the image of my mother, fervent in devotion, and shining in 
 every domestic virtue, be ever before our eyes. It is the 
 evening of thy day, and I have been employed in pointing 
 out the practical influence of Christ's mediation, and describ- 
 ing the solemn account which would be demanded, at the 
 judgment-seat, from my people and me. Lord ! forbid that 
 I should then be stamped as a slothful and wicked servant. 
 Oh ! that I may then be found to have been a good steward 
 of the manifold grace of God ; and may the parents who re- 
 joiced in the acceptance I met with from men, have reason 
 to rejoice in the approbation expressed of me by my great 
 Judge. Thou hast lately removed the aged minister in our 
 neighbourhood, wdio came to this place the same year with 
 my Father.* Thou didst call me to soothe him, with the 
 ministrations of religious sympathy, in his days of indisposi- 
 tion, and to witness his last struggles. The lamp, which 
 long emitted a dim and quivering light, is now extinguished. 
 Thou didst permit him, in a great measure, to outlive his 
 usefulness ; but my father's sun almost went down at noon. 
 Even so, O Father ! for so it seemeth good in thy sight. 
 Oh ! let me not, like my aged neighbour, be left without a 
 relation to watch by my sick-bed, — to receive my last sigh. 
 I shudder at the thought of a grave, which no tears of na- 
 ture shall bedew, and a death which no voice of love shall 
 soothe. Yes, O my God ! even thus could I fall asleep, if 
 called to rest by the care and mercy of my Redeemer. I 
 have been called to officiate for a sick neighbour, whom 
 death is threatening to cut off" in the first stages of his mi- 
 nistry."!* Blessed be God ! that I have now ministered for 
 
 * Alluding to the Rev. Mr Hunter, who belonged to a small sect of Se- 
 ceders, associated because of some peculiar mode of touching the elements be- 
 fore the administration of the Lord's Supper. 
 
 t The Rev. Mr Paterson of Airth, 
 
26*4 MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHER S DEATH. 
 
 twenty years, and not one Sabbath have I passed in silence, 
 through bodily indisposition. Prepare me for the days of 
 darkness, — preserve, O Lord ! the wise and the good. Thou 
 hast been pleased to call aw^ay into the other world, one in 
 the congregation, who was A^ery active in my settlement in 
 Falkirk. Many of my early friends are now in the dust. 
 Blessed be G od ! I have never wanted friends, and that others 
 have been raised up to provide for my comfort, and that I see 
 a congregation flourishing more and more under my care. 
 To them, O Lord ! may I be a spiritual father. Oh ! make 
 me the honoured instrument of saving their souls from death, 
 of feeding them with knowledge and with understandingr. 
 This year, I have been honoured to establish a Charity and 
 Sabbath School in this place, which are producing the hap- 
 piest effects on many of the young. Oh ! bless these institu- 
 tions more and more, for forming the little children of them 
 to knowledge, virtue, and happiness ; and may this Catechism, 
 the Addresses and Prayers that I am printing for their use, 
 contribute to the religious and moral improvement of many. 
 At thy feet, thou Friend of little children, I lay these hum- 
 ble efforts, — in thy approbation I shall have my best reward. 
 Oh ! that I may be honoured to sow the seed, from which 
 trees of righteousness shall bud and flourish, when I am 
 withered. This year thou hast opened the gate for the ad- 
 mission of Christianity into Judea. Oh ! that wise and faith- 
 ful missionaries may be sent to reap the fields that are white 
 for harvest, and may the pure and benevolent Gospel of thy 
 Son, trample down the idols, which are thus drunk with 
 blood. This year, too, thou hast wonderfully humbled the 
 oppressor of Europe, and, by repeated defeats, hast made the 
 troops the scorn of Europe, that were before its terror. Let 
 Peace approach, with blessings in her train, — Peace not to 
 be known by restless ambition. Thou hast given us this 
 season a harvest particularly abundant ; the labourer has 
 now employment, and plenty now gladdens his dwelling. 
 Blessed be God for the comforts we enjoy ! Let me, and 
 my brother and sisters, have an inheritance among them 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. f^()5 
 
 that are sanctified. Oh ! let us live in the harmony, in the 
 faith, in the virtue, in the contentment, which our parents 
 would have deliofhted to witness, and which will honour 
 their memories, and glorify thee. Amen, 
 
 MEDITATION VI. NOVEMBER 21, 1814. 
 
 On the sixth return of that solemn night in which my ex- 
 cellent mother died in the Lord, I bow myself in humble 
 adoration of the God before whom my parents did walk, and 
 to whom, in the worship of the spirit of the past, they now 
 lift up their souls. O may the meltings of nature be conse- 
 crated by the spirit of religion ; and, when I think what I 
 have in the dust, and what I have in heaven, let my heart 
 be reconciled to an abode in the grave, when thou wilt con- 
 sign me to it ; and let my soul set its affections on things 
 above. This year I have finished, through Divine help, and 
 published, my Sacramental Addresses and Meditations. 
 Blessed be the Lord who guided me, and supported me in 
 that labour, and who has given such a measure of public 
 acceptance to it. O how my mother would have delighted 
 in such a publication, but her glowing devotion contemplates 
 the Lamb in the midst of the throne, as it had been slain. 
 Let my faith anticipate the views of glory, and let my heart 
 glow with a religious afi'ection, increasing in assimilation to 
 hers. It would have gratified me above all earthly things, 
 to have put this book into her hands ; but, O my Saviour, 
 I will lay it at thy feet. O may it minister in the improve- 
 ment of thy followers, and diffuse the glories of thy name. 
 This year thou hast laid low that system of despotic reign 
 which has for so many years been the misery of France, and 
 the terror of the world. Not for centuries have the nations 
 seen a more memorable year. How are the mighty fallen, 
 and the weapons of war perished. Grateful Europe is bless- 
 ing the energies of Britain, which, through unparalleled strug- 
 gles, hath led the nations to victory, to liberty, and to peace. 
 My mother's last days were the days of our country's fears 
 and perils. Blessed be God the land, the place of her se- 
 
^66 MEDITATIONS OX HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 
 
 pulchre, has quickened a dispersed world, and is hailed by 
 the nations as the umpire of religion, the nurse of freedom, 
 and the land of the brave. This year some intimate friends 
 of our family have been gathered to the grave. We have 
 joined with children in weeping over the graves of mothers 
 snatched from them, while some of them were but in the 
 period of infancy. Ah ! they have yet to learn the magni- 
 tude of their loss, and to know that the stroke that lays a 
 mother in the dust of death, is of all others, the most to be 
 deplored. Comfort them, O Lord, as thou hast comforted 
 us. In no heart but in thine shall we find the tenderness of 
 a mother's aiFection. When we think on w^hat is cold in the 
 grave, we will rejoice in everlasting mercy above. This day 
 I have seen a neighbourino' minister sinkinor fast into the 
 
 CD ~ O 
 
 grave, supported in solitude and w^eakness by religious com- 
 fort, and showing, in his distress, a spirit more affectionate, 
 and a piety more generous and ardent, than he was supposed 
 to possess. O Lord spare him, that he may recover strength ; 
 receive him to glory, by a death tranquil and joyous, if he 
 must now die. Thou hast given me twenty years in the 
 ministry, while he has not had the fourth of it. O that no 
 period of my course may be found to have been useless. O 
 that I may finish it with joy. Fit me for whatever labours 
 and sufferinof are vet before me. Blessed be God for the 
 continuance of harmony and contentment in our dwelling, 
 and peace and prosperity in the congregation. May my dear 
 relatives be found in Christ. May the people of my charge, 
 and of my heart, be wise, holy, and happy, and may I mi- 
 nister in the spirit of my beloved Master's labour ; act with 
 my father's zeal and purity ; and die in my mother's love 
 and peace, for Christ's sake. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION VII. NOVEMBER 21. 1815. 
 
 On the seventh return of that night in w^hich thou didst 
 call my mother to thyself, I would pour out before thee, the 
 meditations suggested by the recalling of that solemn scene. 
 Ah ! let not this exercise become an empty form ; but, while 
 
MEDITATIONS OK HIS MOTHKK's DEATH. 267 
 
 the heart deeply feels the veneration and gratitude so justly 
 due to worth and affection like hers, may the spirit of grace 
 and supplication lead me to such wishes and petitions as will 
 strengthen pious feelings, and expand my views of the Divine 
 excellence and love. I bless thee, O Lord, for the mercies 
 of this past year ; they have been many indeed. O awaken 
 and maintain in my heart a corresjDonding gratitude. Blessed 
 be God for the indulgent reception which my book has met 
 with. O may a consciousness of its imperfections, and gra- 
 titude to God, suppress every tendency to vain glory in my 
 heart O may it find acceptance with thee. Be pleased to 
 make it useful for exciting the devotions, and animating and 
 directing the obedience of thy people. Thou hast diminished 
 my income this year. I regret it may diminish my ability 
 for doing good. Guard me from withholding from pious and 
 charitable purposes, more than there is meet ; and, I would 
 say with Jacob, I have enough. O bless me with that portion 
 which cannot decay, and which can enrich and bless the soul 
 with increasing influence. This year thou hast called me to 
 attend the funeral of two other ministers in our Presbytery, 
 one of whom was taken away in the early years of his mi- 
 nistry; the other in a good old age.* O may the solemn 
 impression with which I saw them laid in the grave, and 
 the dust covering them, never be effaced from my mind. 
 May I often meditate on the humility, the gravity, the modest 
 manners, and studious habits of the first ; and on the heavenly- 
 mindedness, the integrity, the bold adherence to duty, and 
 the ardent zeal for holiness, which distinguished the latter ; 
 and may such thoughts minister to my improvement. O 
 prepare me for the close of my life and ministry ; and, when 
 I shall go to my long home, let it be with a heart willing to 
 depart, with a character unstained by folly or vice, and amid 
 the regrets of undiminished affection in the people of my 
 charge. May I preach in the pulpit, and study in the closet, 
 with an eye to eternity. This year thou hast suffered the 
 
 * The Eev. Mr Pater?on of Airth, and the Rev. Mr Fletcher, of Bridge 
 of Teith. 
 
SG8 MEDITATIONS OX HIS MOTHER S DEATH. 
 
 flame of war to be again rekindled, and the usurper to return 
 to the throne of France. Blessed be the Lord of Hosts, that 
 in one decisive battle, his power was crushed, and military 
 renown, in w^hich he trusted, was blasted by British skill 
 and heroism. O that, while victory records the achievements 
 of that wonderful day, it may tell to generations to come, 
 how^ Britain laid the eagles of her proudest and deadliest foe, 
 and her own laurels, at thy feet. May the family restored 
 to the throne of their ancestors, be disposed to rule wath jus- 
 tice and mercy. O let not despotic and superstitious prin- 
 ciples, revengeful feelings, or habits of turbulence and rapine, 
 prolong the misery of that people, or disturb the tranquility 
 of other states. Give to rulers and subjects the spirit of wis- 
 dom, order, and peace. O that peace and truth may be in 
 my days. Lord enable me for the future to do more for thy 
 glory than ever I have yet done ; and that, in the pulpit, I 
 may be kept by thee in perfect recollection of self-possession, 
 and that I may manifest the zeal that becomes an ambassador 
 of Christ, and an earnestness worthy a friend of souls ; and 
 may my intercourse with my people be more and more im- 
 proving to them. In domestic life, may our harmony and 
 Christian fellowship continue unimpaired ; and may my stud- 
 ies tend to promote the satisfaction of my heart, and my 
 capacity for usefulness. Keep me from unprofitable reading, 
 and vain thoughts. O fill me with grace and truth ; and 
 may the end of my conversation be like that of my dear pa- 
 rents ; and all that I ask is for Christ's sake. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION VIII. NOVEMBER 21, 1816. 
 
 On the eighth return of that night in w^iich thou didst 
 call my mother home, I would approach thy throne in the 
 exercise of solemn meditation and earnest prayer. O render 
 the reflections of this night animating to every pious feeling, 
 and destructive to the slavish fear of death. Blessed be God 
 for another year of health in my body, comfort in my heart, 
 prosperity in my congregation, and peace in my dwelling. 
 To the God of my mercies will I raise the song of gratitude, 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 269 
 
 with the voice of sorrow. In this year thou didst send sore 
 sickness on my dear sister Elizabeth. Thou broughtst her to 
 the brink of the grave. Blessed be that God who heard the 
 voice of our weeping, and brought her back from the gates 
 of death. O let not the solemn impressions of that scene be 
 ever forgotten ; and, O ! blessed be God, he has not made us 
 to mourn over another breach in our dwelling ; and though 
 he threatened to strike, he stayed his hand. Thou hast re- 
 moved last year a long and intimate friend of our family, a 
 man eminent for usefulness and piety, one who was the com- 
 painion of my father and my own ; thou hast removed him 
 in the same sudden manner as my mother, in the same even- 
 inf^ of the week, at the same hour, and when he had just 
 finished the devotional exercise in which my mother was en- 
 gaged when the hand of death touched her.* O may I see 
 in this removal additional proof of the Almighty s com- 
 placency in praying persons ; may I learn from it to prepare 
 for a removal as sudden, and to me may it be as safe and as 
 happy as to them. O save me from meeting with death in 
 the scene of folly, or with a heart carnal or presumptuous. 
 O animate me to the same holy zeal, the same eager devo- 
 tion, the same superiority to the world, the same purity of 
 thought and aifection, the same readiness for the Saviour's 
 coming, the same labours of mercy and love. This year 
 thou hast tried the land by a grievous stagnation of trade for 
 twelve months past ; we have enjoyed but little of the in- 
 fluence of the sun ; our days have been days of gloominess, 
 and the rain has fallen with a frequency and a violence sel- 
 dom known before. The crop is scanty ; and much of what is 
 got in is in a sorry condition ; and in the remote parts of the 
 country there is much yet to be reaped; on this account 
 many families are pining with hunger and misery ; hearts 
 are failing them for fear. Thou hast permitted a spirit of 
 turbulence and daring violence to awaken, and to spread 
 over the land, and to threaten the country with all the hor- 
 rors of rebellion. O Lord, arise and have mercy upon us ; 
 
 * The Rev. Mr. Gilfillan, of Dunblane. 
 
2T0 ilEUITATIONS OX HIS JiOTHEr's DEATH. 
 
 revive our decayed coinnierce ; scatter plenty from thy store. 
 Enable our rulers, by a prudent retrenchment, and season- 
 able reformation of abuses, to seek the welfare and peace of 
 the land ; and oh ! let not the people be infuriated by the 
 vile abettor of disaffection, but let them, by frugality, and 
 contentment, and order, and patience, bear the indignation 
 of the Lord, and prepare for the comfort of better days, 
 which, we trust, are at hand. I have this year, in thy great 
 mercy, prepared for the press a volume of sermons for the 
 benefit of the young, and I would earnestly plead, that they 
 may be accepted of Him, who hath given it to us in charge 
 to feed his lambs ; and that he may bless them for promot- 
 ing the best habits, and imparting the best enjoyments to 
 the young. Thou hast called me to undertake the office of 
 clerk to the Presbytery, in place of my father, who is gone. 
 Enable me to discharge its duties with patience and diligence. 
 Oh ! form me more and more to self-command, to holy 
 thoughts, to lowliness of mind, to dependance on Christ, to 
 active goodness, to my mother's worth, and to my mother'*s 
 enjoyments. Oh ! that like her I may be found in Christ, 
 in the hour of death, live to him on earth, and reign with 
 him in heaven. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION IX. NOVEMBER 21, 1817. 
 
 On the ninth return of that night, in which I first began 
 to mourn for a mother, I would ap])roach the throne of 
 grace, not with the feelings of rebellion, nor the language of 
 repining, but to express my gratitude to Him, who heals 
 where he has torn, and binds where he smites. In thy good- 
 ness I have found the best materials for consolation, and in 
 thy word the sweetest ground of hope. What thanks do I 
 not owe thee, for another year of health, credit, harmony, 
 and comfort : these have been the mercies of eveiy year, and 
 have been continued to one most unworthy of them. Oh ! 
 teach me, while I contemplate my mother's excellencies, to 
 abhor myself, and, while my heart weeps at her tomb, to re- 
 pent in dust and in ashes. In thy good providence, my Dis- 
 
MKDIIATIONS ON HIS MOTHER'S DEATH. 271 
 
 courses to the Young have been published this year, and 
 have met w^ith a reception far beyond what I ever expected, 
 both as to circulation and esteem. Oh I bless them to every 
 reader, and bless them to the youthful soul. Oh ! let me ne- 
 ver be unmindful of the duties I have urged on others. Let 
 me never slight the warning which I have addressed to 
 others, or be found destitute of those principles which I have 
 recommended to them, as the essentials of felicity. Let not 
 any of my labours be lost to myself. Quench in me the 
 desire of vain glory ; and, in all my labours, let thy glory, 
 and utility to mankind, be my great object, and not popular 
 applause, or worldly advantage. This year, too, our church 
 has been rebuilt, and finished in a manner commodious and 
 elegant ; and, blessed be God, it has been completed with- 
 out the smallest injury to any individual, and that, though 
 considerably enlarged, it is well filled. Blessed be God, that, 
 during the time we worshipped without, we had so many 
 good days in an unfavourable season ; that the rains, which 
 sometimes descended on us, were so moderate, that none 
 were injured in their health by the weather ; and that it was 
 often felt by not a few, it is good for us to be here. Blessed 
 be the Lord, we are, on Sabbath next, to observe the Lord's 
 Supper in it, — that feast of dedication. ^ly God ! fill it with 
 glory, and render this first sacrament a token for good, and 
 a pledge of Heaven ! This is the third time I have seen it 
 altered and enlarged, and it is probably the last ; and when 
 it is again touched, I shall be dust. Oh ! may I serve thee 
 in it with my spirit in the Gospel of thy Son ; and, when 
 I leave its pulpit (erected for me as an expression of respect), 
 to be occupied by another, may it be with full proof of my 
 ministry, and with the joyful hope of the Gospel. Thou 
 hast this year tried our land by a late and cold spring, and a 
 wet, bleak summer, so that the harvest has been late. We 
 have had excellent weather all September and October ; 
 yet, from the rains in November, much of the crop is still in 
 the field, and passing into rottenness. The bleak districts of 
 our land are mourning over another year of calamity. Oh .' 
 
 s ^ 
 
27S :\iEDITATIOVS ON HIS M0THER'*S DEATH. 
 
 return to us, Lord, in mercy, in weather more favourable, 
 and in seasons more propitious. The nation is at present 
 mourning bitterly over the death of the daughter of our 
 prince, who, with her infant child, is snatched from the 
 bosom of earthly felicity, and from the hopes and aftections 
 of the country, and hurried to an untimely grave. Oh ! let 
 not the nation satisfy itself by the trappings of sorrow, but 
 bless this sad calamity, for turning many to righteousness ; 
 and when we see death coming up into our windows, and 
 entering into our palaces, to cut off the children from with- 
 out, and the young men from the streets, may preparation be 
 the universal study, and eternal life the universal pursuit. 
 Oh ! may this afflicting event teach the gay heart of youth 
 to be serious, humble the lofty spirit of greatness, and teach 
 resignation and contentment to the poor. Thou hast this 
 year removed from the congregation two heads of families, 
 my own and my father's friends. Lover and friend, thou 
 hast put far from me, and mine acquaintances, into darkness. 
 Oh * raise up others, wdiose countenance may be useful, and 
 whose society, when I must unbend from study, may be agree- 
 able. Oh ! teach me to converse much w^th the spirit of the 
 just made perfect, and ever to keep in view my father's meek 
 contentment, superior wisdom, and unblemished purity ; and 
 my mother's ardent piety, kind affections, and domestic vir- 
 tues, as objects of careful imitation, and affectionate esteem. 
 Oh ! incline me to the homage due to a father's God, and to 
 the temper and conduct that becomes the son of thine hand- 
 maid. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION X. NOVEMBER 21, 1818. 
 
 On the tenth return of that night on which my mother 
 was translated to glory, and which I would again consecrate 
 to meditation and prayer, I bow before thee the God of sal- 
 vation. While I call to remembrance the feelings with 
 which we cried, as she was departing. My mother ! my mo- 
 ther I the guide of our dwelling, and the comfort thereof, — 
 may I never forget the voice which assured us of the favour 
 
MEDlTATIOXb 0>^' Hits MOTHEr's DEATH. 273 
 
 of Heaven to those who follow the steps of the good, and 
 that blessed are the dead that die in the Lord. This year, 
 a second edition of my Discourses has been published, and, 
 for this further proof of the acceptance and success of that 
 work, I would give thee thanks. The Catechism, which in 
 a few days is to be published, I would devote to thy cause, 
 and beseech thee to bless it, for promoting the knowledge, 
 the belief, the practice of religion in all its branches. May 
 it be especially useful to the people of my charge, and may I 
 have the high delight of seeing them filled with the know- 
 ledge of thy will, and walking in thy fear. Thou hast given 
 us this spring, summer, and harvest, a season uncommonly 
 favourable. We have had more genial warmth, and a more 
 plenteous increase, than for some seasons past ; and even now 
 the clearness of the sky, and the greenness of the fields, re- 
 semble more the brightness and the verdure of spring, than 
 the usual gloom and sterility of November. The bushes are 
 opening in gardens, and the broom flowering in the fields ; 
 the birds are building their nests, and the ploughman is 
 drawing his furrows. May I behold thee, in thus turning 
 from thy fierce anger, and delighting to make thy creatures 
 happy ; and may I see in it thy power to brighten the gloomi- 
 est season of life, and to beautify its most desolate scenes. 
 Yesterday, the intelligence reached us of the Queen's death, 
 whose lingering illness is at last closed. May the example 
 which she set, of a strict regard to all that is decent and vir- 
 tuous, and which had so important an influence on public 
 morals, be copied by all in high places ; and may this second 
 display, so soon given after the first, of the power of death 
 over those who fill the loftiest situations in society, impress 
 us deeply with the thought, that we, too, can find no refuge 
 from the great destroyer. Let the nation listen to the voice 
 that addresses them from the sepulchre of our kings, and which 
 cries, that all flesh is grass, and all the goodness of man is 
 but as the flower of the field. This year thou didst visit my 
 sister Mary with severe and lingering sickness, during which 
 we several times despaired of her recovery ; but thou didst 
 
2*14; MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHER^S DEATH. 
 
 redeem her life from destruction, and hast turned our fears 
 and anxieties into gratitude and peace. We have seen death 
 retiring, when the victim seemed prepared for him. I w^ould 
 devoutly acknowledge thee as the God that kills and makes 
 alive, who brings dovv^n to the grave, and brings up. May 
 this night be followed by a more ^^owerful influence than any 
 of the former. Oh ! save me from a useless life, and from a 
 death for which I am unprepared. What is corrupt in my 
 affections, do thou sanctify ; what is faulty in my views, do 
 thou correct ; and what is w^rong in my conduct, enable me 
 to abandon for ever. With such patterns of excellence be- 
 fore me, let me not rest contented w^ith inferior attainments in 
 wisdom and goodness ; but may I, like them, press on unto 
 perfection, and live and die a suppliant for thy grace, and a 
 monument of thy mercy, for Christ's sake. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION XI. NOVEMBER 21, 1819. 
 
 On the eleventh return of that night of my mother's 
 death, it becomes me to bless thy patience and goodness, in 
 permitting me to remain till this day. No assurance have 
 I, that I shall attain to the days of the years of the life of 
 my father and my mother, in their pilgrimage ; and, instead 
 of flattering myself that I shall see a period of life more ad- 
 vanced than theirs, may I act as if I felt that I was now 
 ready to be offered, and that the time of my departure was 
 at hand. Two of my cousins have, within these few days, 
 been called away to the eternal world ; I assisted in laying 
 one in his grave, and soon must I perform the sad office to 
 the other. Oh ! that I may feel, in all its humbling and 
 solemnizing influence, this thought, that I shall soon lie 
 down like them in the dust, and that the worm shall cover 
 me. I have been urging my people this day to an imme- 
 diate attention to the things that belong to their peace. Let 
 me not be regardless of these things myself; but oh ! endow 
 me with the graces of religion, animate me to every exertion 
 of practical utility, and pour down upon me the Spirit of 
 glory. Blessed be God for the continued comfort which 1 
 
^MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHERS DEATH. ^10 
 
 have in my friends and flock ; be pleased to enable me to 
 act the part of a father to both, and to conduct them in the 
 true way to heaven. This year I have, for seven months, 
 held a weekly meeting, for the instruction of the young of 
 my flock ; and I bless thee for the pleasure that it gives me, 
 and for the interest which was felt in it. Make these, my 
 young scholars, thy disciples indeed, ornaments to the con- 
 gregation, and a blessing to their pastor. I acknowledge 
 with gratitude the kind reception my Catechism has met 
 with. Oh ! that the young who are employed in learning 
 it, may be all taught of God, may be animated by the spirit 
 which it recommends, and be partakers of the blessings 
 which it exhibits. This year, though the summer com- 
 menced with some weeks of bleak and cold weather, thou 
 didst at last give the genial influence of the sun, and the 
 mildest breezes, by which we had an earlier harvest than 
 any I ever witnessed, and plenty is now spread over all our 
 borders. When I think how scarcity, and a high price of 
 provisions, would have aggravated the discontents and the 
 misery which now prevail in the manufacturing districts of 
 the country, I feel the peculiar value of so seasonable a mercy. 
 The state of the nation is indeed dark and threatening. Po- 
 litical disaftection hath appeared to an extent, and with an 
 audacity, unexampled before ; and those vast assemblages of 
 the people, their violent speeches, and insolent demands, in- 
 dicate that a tempest is gathering, whose burst wull be ter- 
 rible. Oh ! still the tumults of the people, and, by a revival 
 of our trade, and the diflusion of the spirit of wisdom and 
 patience, banish complaints from our streets. Oh i direct 
 the leaders of the nation to such measures as thou wilt bless 
 for reviving commerce, alleviating hardships, and maintain- 
 ing order, integrity, and peace. This year will be remem- 
 bered, for the means that have been employed for reuniting 
 the two parties in the Secession. May that candour and 
 forbearance, wisdom and charity, be imparted, which are 
 necessary to effect this union, and to render it permanent 
 and happy ; and may it lead to the extension of our eftbrts 
 
216 MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEk's DEATH. 
 
 in the cause of Christ, and to commend the spirit of the 
 Gospel to those who have been hitherto prejudiced against 
 it, from the divisions of its professors. Soon after the last 
 return of this night, my uncle was removed from the world 
 in a way more sudden than that of my mother. We were 
 permitted to see her for more than an hour in the last 
 struggle, but no human eye saw him depart, no human hand 
 was nigh to give the least help or relief.* O let me not 
 boast of to-morrow, or expect a lengthened sickness, to pre- 
 pare for death ; let me now be ready. Let my uncle's be- 
 quest to us, be received as from thee, and be sanctified by 
 thy blessing, and improved to thy glory ; and while we 
 think of his incorruptible integrity, his public spirit, his ac- 
 curacy, and attention to business, his knowledge of the 
 world, and his power of wit and pleasantry, may we be 
 thankful for having a relation so respectable and useful in 
 life, and so much regretted in his death. O let me live in 
 thy fear, and die in thy kind ministrations and gracious wel- 
 come to heaven. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION XII. NOVEMBER !2l, 1820. 
 
 On the twelfth return of that solemn night in which my 
 mother left us to be with thee, I beseech thee to lead me to 
 such meditations as will improve my heart, and to such pur- 
 suits as will have a beneficial influence on my future con- 
 duct. O prepare me for my death, which may be as sudden. 
 Lord grant it may be as happy. Remembering, that while 
 she w^as eminent in all the qualities which render a wife the 
 ornament, and a mother the blessing of her dwelling, she 
 was distinguished for the fervent piety that walks with 
 Ood, may I cultivate the power of godliness, and be en- 
 abled to add to the kindness of a brother and the fidelity of 
 the minister, the sanctity and the devotion of a Christian. I 
 would call to remembrance what my father was, to animate 
 my desire to be like him, a man of God. AVhile I read the 
 books that he studied, may the spirit of wisdom that rested 
 
 * Bain Whit, Esq. W. S., Edinburgh. 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEu's DEATH. !277 
 
 Oil him descend on me. While I preach the doctrines which 
 were the themes of his ministry, may it be with his im- 
 pression of their vakie, and with his experience of their 
 power ; and while I pursue the course in which he w^alked 
 among his people, may it be in that fear of the Lord, and 
 with that meekness, and prudence, and kindliness, by which 
 he was so eminently characterized. This year has been a 
 series of mercy. Respect, usefulness, and comfort, and capa- 
 city for labour, have been continued. O raise me to more 
 fervid gratitude, and to a more ardent zeal for thy glory, and 
 the salvation of souls. The rheumatism in my back, which 
 gave me severe pain in the last spring, and made me feel 
 many anxieties, lest its continuance and increase should 
 unfit me for my pastoral labours, has been completely re- 
 moved, — I will walk before the Lord in the land of the 
 living. This year thou hast removed our good old king. 
 May the remembrance of his virtues be a monitor to his 
 successors. May the British nation be ever adorned with 
 such piety as his ; and while history shall record the mili- 
 tary glories and the commercial success of his reign, let the 
 people look to the Christian graces of his character ; and let 
 this important lesson be felt in high places, that while ad- 
 miration follows the career of greatness, love cherishes the 
 memory and blesses the name of the good. This year, too, 
 five ministers of our body have died, all eminent for piety, 
 and with three of whom I was intimately acquainted. May 
 these repeated mementos be felt in all our pulpits. Blessed 
 be God that our church has been blessed with such able mi- 
 nisters of the New Testament, and that such testimony has 
 been borne to the power of religion in the virtues of their 
 lives, the hope of their deaths, and the fragrance of their 
 names. This year has been distinguished by the consumma- 
 tion of the union betwixt the two branches of the Secession ; 
 and blessed was I in w^itnessing a scene so solemn, and yet 
 so delightful, and marked by the spirit of devotion and love. 
 May that spirit ever rest on the United Church. May it 
 be like a dew from the Lord, in all the districts of our 
 land, and be ever distinguished by pure principle, en- 
 
278 :MED1TAT10NS on his MOTllEirs DEATH. 
 
 lightened zeal, and liberal eliaritv. This year my brother 
 AVilliam has been married ; O may this event be for his 
 good. Bless him and his partner in their basket and store, 
 in soul and body, for time and for eternity. May they live 
 in thy fear. May he succeed in business, and grow in wis- 
 dom. May he tread in his father's steps, and may she be 
 blessed with my mother's spirit. This year will be noted 
 for the trial of the Queen, and for the ferment which it hath 
 excited. May she be enabled to act in such a manner as to 
 gain the favour of the wise and the good ; and may this af- 
 flicting process be overruled for promoting morality in high 
 places ; and, while I think of the odious implications to 
 which she has subjected herself, I bless thee for a mother 
 who lived in every virtue, and died with a spotless name. 
 I have been busied this year in preparing a second volume of 
 Sacramental Addresses for the public. Prosper the design, 
 I beseech thee, and accept of that offering of charity to which 
 its profits are to be devoted. O give it acceptance and uti- 
 lity. God of my life, let me ever live to thee. Lord of my 
 death, let me die in thee. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION XIII. XOVEMBER 21, 1821. 
 
 On the thirteenth return of that solemn night in which 
 my mother left this world to go to the Father, it becomes 
 me to express my gratitude to God, that I am yet in the 
 land of the living, and that though death hath since that 
 time been visiting many dwellings around us, it has not been 
 permitted to enter ours. O that the memory of my mother 
 may operate with more force than ever in strengthening 
 within me all the pious and kind affections, and in leading 
 me to all the exercises of a holy life. This year has been 
 marked by the death of the last of my uncles, and by the 
 same disease by which thou didst change my father's coun- 
 tenance, and send him awa}-, and while this event has so for- 
 cibly recalled so many traits of his character, so many scenes 
 of his life, and so many circmnstances of his departure, may 
 his wisdom and benignity, his faith and patience, be more 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEIl's DEATH. 279 
 
 sedulously followed, considering the end of his conversation.* 
 This year another of my father^s most valued friends has 
 died, who was a bright ornament of our church for wisdom 
 and elegance, a friendly disposition, and a most active spirit, 
 and to him I was called to pay the last tribute of respect, as 
 my own and my father's friend. -|- Blessed be God that I was 
 strengthened for that painful service. Three ministers be- 
 sides him have within six months been called into eternity, 
 and all suddenly.^ May mementos so solemn strike my 
 heart as they ought. Keep me from paralyzing fear and from 
 presumptuous indifference, but let my loins be ever girt, and 
 my lamp ever burning. O, if I am to die suddenly, let me 
 not die unprepared ; let me die in a scene, and in exercise 
 suited to the character and work of a Christian minister. I 
 have set my worldly affairs in order, O that I may have all 
 that readiness in state, in heart, and frame, the necessity of 
 which I have urged on others. Blessed be God for the ac- 
 ceptance of my new work, and for the third edition of the 
 former volume. May the acceptance excite in me becoming 
 gratitude. I have built a house for myself this year,§ but 
 never will I forget what a house of mercy the old manse has 
 been. May God go with me to the new habitation ; may its 
 name be, — The Lord is there, — and may wisdom, purity, con- 
 tentment, and peace, ever abide in it. Blessed be God the 
 country is at peace, and prosperity is returning to it. May 
 its righteousness be like the waves of the sea. May the death 
 
 * He here alludes to the father of the late Dr John Belfrage of Slateford. 
 
 t Dr Husband, senior minister of Queen Ann Street Church, Dunferm- 
 line. Dr Belfrage preached the funeral sermon, which was afterward pub- 
 lished at the request of the congregation. 
 
 J These were Mr Reid, reformed Presbyterian minister at Lauriston, — Mr 
 Brown of the Relief Church, Falkirk. He was from home assisting his son- 
 in-law, at the dispensation of the Lord's Supper, and suddenly dropped down 
 in the pulpit, and expired. The third was Mr Brownlee, of the second United 
 Secession Church, Falkirk, who also fell down in the pulpit while preaching 
 in the evening. The only words he uttered were, " Send for Dr Belfrage." 
 This was accordingly done, and Dr Belfrage concluded the services of the 
 evening, which death had so awfully interrupted. 
 
 § His house at Rose Park. 
 
280 ^lEDlTATlOXS ON HIS MOTHER's DEATH. 
 
 of the Queen produce a conviction of the folly of all the tur- 
 moils of ambition. Blessed be God for peace in Israel, for 
 a congregation so steady, affectionate, and prosperous ; for 
 health, tranquillity, and domestic comfort. To me to live, 
 may it be Christ, and to die, gain. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION XIV. NOVEMBER 21, 1822. 
 
 Ox the fourteenth return of the night of my mother's 
 translation, I desire to recall to remembrance its solemn cir- 
 cumstances, and O let not the exercise be a vain form, but 
 may it yield the peaceable fruits of wisdom and of piety. 
 Blessed be God that in sisters so devoted to my interest, so at- 
 tentive to my comfort, and so solicitous for my welfare, I 
 find so much of their mother's heart and hand. O that thou 
 wouldst bless them indeed, and bless them for ever. I have 
 left the manse in which I had lived betwixt forty and fifty 
 years, and out of which I had never slept a single night, 
 while in Falkirk or near it. It was with regret I quitted a 
 place where every spot was stamped by the traces of the reli- 
 gious exercises, the sweet kindness, the peace, the sufferings, 
 the enjoyments, and the death of my parents. Wherever I 
 go let the memory of them walk with me by day, and rest 
 with me by night. Blessed be the Lord for this commodious 
 habitation, which he hath provided for me, in a situation 
 so beautiful. O teach me in all its conveniences to mark 
 thy care, in all its sweets to see thy beauty, in its delightful 
 quietness to meet with thee, in its extensive prospects to 
 behold the hills rejoicing, the woods blossoming, and the 
 vales flourishing through thee. May it be holy to the Lord, 
 may it be blessed and sanctified by thy constant presence, 
 and in it may I live, and may I die with thee and to thee. 
 I have this year through thy great goodness been enabled to 
 give to the world, " Sketches of Life and Character." O 
 may the excellencies exhibited in it be carefully cultivated 
 by me, and abound among ministers and people. This year 
 I have met with two great deliverances ; thou didst redeem 
 my life from destruction, when I had fallen into the Canal ; 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. ^81 
 
 preserved me from falling from my horse, when in the great- 
 est danger of being thrown down on my head. O may the 
 angel who has redeemed me in such cases, redeem me from 
 all evil. A few days ago, a minister dropped down dead on 
 the highway, and remained in that state during the night, 
 and in the morning was found cold and stiif. Blessed be 
 God that the mortal stroke came not to my mother in such 
 circumstances, that her last exercise and feeling was that of 
 piety ; that her last struggle was in her chamber, and that 
 her last end was attended by the children of her heart, and 
 that there was nought in her previous character to stamp a 
 single spot in the closing scene. May I, O God, be enabled 
 to prepare immediately to go hence ; O my God take me not 
 away in the midtime of my days ; O take me not away un- 
 prepared ; O let me live in the exercise of every pious affec- 
 tion, and in the practice of every commanded duty ; and O 
 that I may die in my home, that my eyes may be closed by 
 the hands of those that love me, my dwelling occupied, and 
 my books improved, and my joy fulfilled by them, and that 
 I may be a monument of the power of that grace in w^hich I 
 wish to trust in every scene, to point in every exhortation, 
 and to exult in my whole ministry. To that grace I now 
 commit my soul and body, my friends and people, and on us 
 all may it rest for ever and ever. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION XV. NOVEMBER 21, 1823. 
 
 On the fifteenth return of that night in which my mo- 
 ther was received into glory, I would engage in these recol- 
 lections by which her memory may conduce to promote the 
 best interests of my soul. Blessed be God that I am still 
 spared in vigorous health, and amid increasing comfort. The 
 scene of beauty is still improving around me. O let me not 
 be like the heath in the desert, barren and unfruitful in the 
 w^ork of the Lord, but in piety and goodness and spiritual 
 prosperity, may I be like a well-watered garden, and as a 
 field which the Lord hath blessed. Now, therefore, let it 
 please thee to bless the house of thy servant, that it may be 
 
^82 MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHER S DEATH. 
 
 before thee for ever, for if tliou bless it, O Lord, it shall be 
 blessed for ever ; O bless it with such piety and resignation, 
 purity, gratitude, and peace, as thou didst our dwelling-place 
 after the death of my parents. This year my infant niece, 
 named from my mother, has been removed by death ; that 
 olive plant thou hast taken to paradise. May her parents 
 be led by the sorrows of nature to the consolations of God, 
 be enriched wdth wisdom, and formed to the feelings and the 
 practice of piety. This year I have published a ^Monitor to 
 Families ; may these discourses be blessed for promoting do- 
 mestic piety and domestic comfort. May the tribute to my 
 father, in its close, be a memento to his people, to his sur- 
 viving friends, and to myself to follow his faith, considering 
 the end of his conversation. Another dear friend in the mi- 
 nistry is removed this year.* His young orphans I commit 
 to thy care, and may the piety of their father live in them. 
 His last days were embittered by strife among his people. -f* 
 Blessed be God that my congregation is so di.stinguished for 
 peace and harmony. I have received from them a gown as 
 a tribute of respect, and blessed be God that my wearing it 
 hath excited no dissatisfaction. May this gratifying mark 
 of public regard encourage me in my duty ; may it be ac- 
 companied with the token of thy approbation, and may I seek 
 the honour that comes from God. I have been thrice called 
 avray to preach, to plead the cause of mercy, of education, and 
 of evangelizing the heathen. Blessed be God for the aid he 
 vouchsafed, and the testimony which he gave to the w^ord of 
 his grace. May the society formed for the destitute families 
 of departed ministers of our church flourish, and may the 
 widow^ and the fatherless sit under its shadow with delight. 
 May my studies and my duty be my consolation, and in my 
 ministry may I be blessed by seeing the Lord's work pros- 
 
 * The Rev. James M'Farlane of Queen Ann Street Church, Dunfermline, 
 of whom Dr Belfrage wrote the memoir which appeared in the Christian 
 Monitor Magazine. 
 
 t Disputes had unfortunately arisen about the calling of a minister to suc- 
 ceed Dr Husband, as colleague to Mr M'Farlane. 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHKll S DEATH. 288 
 
 pering in my hand. In my mother's blessing may I Hve, 
 and die in her hope. Amen. 
 
 JIEDITATION XVI. NOVEMBER SI, 1824. 
 
 On this sixteenth return of the day of my mother's death, 
 I would come before thee with grateful feelings for the health 
 and comfort we have enjoyed, and regret the little improve- 
 ment of these mercies, that, while many have been visited 
 by sickness in the dwellings around us, death hath not been 
 allowed to enter. These sixteen years we have been in health, 
 and in domestic love. We know that death will come ; 
 and, to whichsoever of us it may come first, O let us be as 
 well prepared as our mother was, and may it bring the same 
 comforts to survivors. This year has been rich in mercy. 
 My labours have been sweetened to me by peculiar marks of 
 thy favour, and my mind soothed by the light of thy coun- 
 tenance. Truly, O Lord, I am thy servant, the son of thine 
 handmaid ; thou hast loosed my bonds. I bless thee, O Lord, 
 for the very favourable reception the " Monitor to Families" 
 has met with. O may I be impressed with this, and be 
 more active in the w^ork of the Lord. I have this year pub- 
 lished a Sacramental Catechism. I would lay it at the foot of 
 the Cross ; may it be the means of promoting the end of 
 Christ's death, and winning the hearts of the young to the 
 love of that Saviour who has done so much for them. O 
 may the young of my flock be the sheep of thy pasture ; and 
 enable me to lead them to all that is pious, by enforcing the 
 lessons of truth and duty. This year the University of St 
 Andrews have conferred on me a title of high honour, and 
 done it in a manner so grateful to my feelings. May the mem- 
 -bers of that University be the light and guide of youth to 
 every thing that is ennobling and virtuous. May I feel it a 
 stimulus to more diligence in study, purity of heart, and re- 
 finement of mind, and to avoid whatever is mean or degrad- 
 ing. O grant me to view all things as coming from God. 
 This year a neighbouring minister has lost his only daugh- 
 
S84 
 
 ter, his accomplished companion, and the pride of his life. * 
 Now his house is left to him desolate. O may he be led to 
 thee, and to taste and feel the sympathy of a Saviour ; and 
 may the mournful loss of one every way so fitted to adorn 
 society, teach us to " cease from man,"" and raise up friends 
 to gladden, and in room of those whom thou wast pleased to 
 remove. O Lord, unite me more truly to thee. O may the 
 piety and peace of my parents dwell with me in seasons of 
 infirmity, and decline, and fretfulness. ^lay I be supported 
 by their hopes and consolations, and may the God of peace 
 be with us for ever. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION XVII. NOVEMBER 21, 1825. 
 
 Ox the seventeenth return of that night in which my 
 dearest mother was translated to thee, I would dwell on those 
 recollections, and on that prayer which is most suited to a 
 season so solemn. O impress its lessons with more power 
 on my heart than ever, and enable me to live more under 
 their influence than I have ever yet done. O give me a 
 mind more devoted to holy wisdom, and a heart devoted to 
 thee and heavenly objects ; and, by this night's meditation by 
 my mother's grave, may my preparation for death be much 
 advanced, and my soul more impressed with the graces of 
 her character. This year I have still to sing of mercy. 
 Through thy blessing, comfort, plenty, respect, friendship, 
 and activity have marked its course. This year I have been 
 to London, to plead the cause of its Missionary Society ; and 
 blessed be God for the safe voyage to London, and from it ; 
 for the peace and harmony among my flock during my ab- 
 sence, and the kind reception my humble labours met with. 
 O may that society be blessed more and more, with wisdom 
 in its plans, love in its spirit, supply to its funds, and suc- 
 cess in its efforts. May the other societies for which I was 
 called to preach be the instrument of extensive utility, and 
 
 " He alludes to the daughter of Dr Wilson, minister of the parish of Fal- 
 kirk. 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEIi's DEATH. 285 
 
 of the happiest feelings to their members. Blessed be God 
 for the dear home that was opened to me in London. May 
 thy rich and sweet mercy rest on that kind family, and may 
 its venerable head be long spared as a son of consolation. 
 O bless his benefice with utility, to the forlorn, the unfor- 
 tunate, and the helpless. I have seen the University of 
 Oxford, the seat of literature and science ; may its walls, its 
 palaces, its groves, be filled with the spirit of wisdom, the 
 homage of piety; and let our country be blessed by the 
 union of science with love of religion, with civil liberty and 
 domestic and foreign peace. In all my wanderings may I 
 see more and more of thy guidance and care ; O may I ever 
 be enabled to trust in thee. In my visit to a sick friend, 
 whom thou hast been pleased to chasten sore, I have led her 
 to the footstool of mercy. O strengthen and confirm the 
 feeble knees ; O brighten the pale face, and make the sunk 
 heart to rejoice in thee ; and in all thy dealings with me and 
 my family, may they be crowned with mercy and peace. 
 Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION XVIII. NOVEMBER 21, 1826. 
 
 On the eighteenth return of the night of my mother's 
 death, I come to thy thi-one of grace, lamenting that, from 
 the recollection of that scene, I have not derived more bene- 
 fit, beseechinoj thee to render me more serious and humble, 
 more watchful and more active for thee. How eager she 
 was for the coming Sabbath, and by early and earnest prayer 
 on the morning of thy holy day, she wrestled with thee for 
 the divine blessing on my ministry. O may I be actuated 
 by such a spirit, and be blessed Sabbath after Sabbath with 
 thy countenance = I would feel, too, with w^hat deep hu- 
 mility and contrition of heart for sins, she set apart days for 
 humiliation and prayer. O grant to me, as thou didst to 
 her, repentance unto life. Often did she wash the feet of her 
 Redeemer with tears ; and with such feelings as hers let my 
 heart throb with holy emotion, and let my eyes flow with tears 
 of gratitude. This has been a year of uncommon drought 
 
 T 
 
286 MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 
 
 and heat ; and never have I seen an October and a Novem- 
 ber so bright, calm, and lovely. O may it be to me a token 
 of that kindness by which my entrance into old age shall be 
 sweetened, and by which the last months of life shall be 
 blessed. This has been a season of sore distress in this 
 country, through the failure of many in business, and stag- 
 nation of trade. Many families are in misery, and the loudest 
 appeals have been made to the public compassion in their 
 behalf. Wilt thou not revive us again, that thy people may 
 rejoice in thee ? O give employment to the industrious, 
 bread to the famishing, and hope to the desponding. Arise, 
 O God, for our help, and redeem us for thy mercies sake. 
 This year I have brought within a little of the end, my 
 " Discourses to the Aged." How much has the remem- 
 brance of what was valuable in my mother aided me in my 
 delineations of character, and my lessons of duty and com- 
 fort. That work I would lay at the foot of my Redeemer ; 
 
 bless it for giving light and peace to many in the evening 
 of life, and make the feeble and the helpless to sing for joy. 
 
 1 have finished, through thy good mercy, on Sabbath, my 
 sermons on the Christian Armour. !May the Captain of our 
 salvation number me among those whom he will conduct to 
 glory ; may he aid us in pleading his cause, and fighting his 
 battles; and let this be our determination, — we will be 
 faithful to the death. This year, too, I have been reminded, 
 by a bleeding at the nose, at the close of my visita- 
 tions, that I must soon put off this tabernacle ; O that my 
 bones w^ere crying out, O living God for thee, my heart re- 
 novated, my lamp burning, my life spotless ! May I meet 
 death in hope, and die in peace. This year my sister Mary 
 has been long and sorely chastened ; blessed be God she w^as 
 not given over unto death ; thou hast brought her out of the 
 depths ; we would bless God for that peace of mind, and that 
 calmness and spirituality under her aflliction ; restore her if 
 it is thy holy will ; sanctify it to the family ; and, O let this 
 house, as in times past, be filled with the melody of joy and 
 health, and be the spot of purity and peace. O give the light 
 
MEDITATIONS ON HIS MOTHEr's DEATH. 287 
 
 of wisdom to my studies, — the spirit of power to my ministry. 
 This will give life to my soul, and the peace of God to my 
 heart. Let me be a follower of my holy parents, and here- 
 after be associated with them in rest for ever. Amen. 
 
 MEDITATION XIX. NOVEMBER 21, 1827. 
 
 On the nineteenth return of that night in which my mo- 
 ther died, it becomes me to reflect how much nearer I am to 
 that eternity into which she has entered. O that I could 
 say that I am nearer to that heaven where she is happy. 
 Twice I have been reminded, by sudden and severe, though 
 short indisposition, that my strength is not the strength of 
 stones, nor my bones brass. Lord make me to know mine 
 end, and the measure of my days, what it is that I may 
 know how frail I am. Let me be more diligent in prepara- 
 tion for eternity ; and let the remembrance of my mother's 
 seriousness, piety, and fervour, make me shudder at the idea 
 of becoming careless or carnal, either in my works as a 
 Christian or as a minister. This year I have lost a venerable 
 friend, whose hoary head was indeed a crown of glory, and 
 who, in every sphere of duty, approved himself a master in 
 Israel. May the power of his example be long felt in that 
 church of which he was such an ornament, and the lustre of 
 his name be felt by me as an impulse to piety.* I have 
 preached a series of discourses on the history of John the 
 Baptist. O may the admiration I have felt and expressed of 
 the sanctity of that holy man, be my excitement to cultivate 
 superiority to the world and devotedness to wisdom. And 
 this year I have finished my expositions of the book of 
 Psalms, after the severe labour of many years. May the 
 Psalms w^hich were the song of my mother in the house of 
 her pilgrimage, be the solace of life and death to me. My 
 volume to the Aged has met with a reception for which I owe 
 the deepest gratitude ; and a third edition of my '' Discourses 
 to the Young" has been sent forth from the press. O let 
 their influence be felt in the author's heart ; and let me be 
 * Dr Waugh, of London. 
 
 T % 
 
MEDITATIONS OX HIS MOTHER S DEATH. 
 
 the grateful instrument of divine mercy, in guiding youth to 
 piety and preparing age for heaven. This year I have 
 founded a hbrary for the young in the congregation. O may 
 God smile on the institution ; and may it flourish in the 
 continuance of my people and in holy utility. May it pro- 
 mote a taste for reading among the young, save them from 
 wasting time in indolence and folly, and enrich their minds 
 with the best principles and maxims of conduct. Thou hast 
 turned again the captivity of our land, revived its trade, 
 given employment to the industrious, and banished com- 
 plaint from our streets; our barns are filled AA^th plenty. 
 After a harvest marked by three interpositions of Providence, 
 in which, in the season of terror, thou didst make the wea- 
 ther to brighten, and the husbandman to resume his toils, 
 O may thy goodness in providence and thy grace in the 
 Gospel, excite us to live soberly, righteously, and godly in 
 the world. Amen. 
 
289 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 HIS LATTER DAYS AND DEATH. 
 
 Symptoms of declining liealtli. Letter. Jaunt to the Highlands. 
 Letter to Mrs Belfrage. Return. Letter. Occupation on the last 
 night of the year. Sermon on the first Sahbath of the year. Con- 
 clusion of sermon. Continues pastoral labours. Epistolary extracts. 
 
 Proposed jaunt. Letters to Mrs H . Last sermon in Falkirk. 
 
 Concluding remarks. Goes to Airthrey Wells. Letter to his sisters. 
 Visits Blackford. Preaches in Dunblane Cathedral. Last sermon. 
 Bridge of Teith. Returns to Rose Park. Pulpit supplied by the 
 Presbytery. Last Sacrament. Last Table address. Evening direc- 
 tions. Becomes worse. Letter. Visits to the neighbourhood. Last 
 Presbytery. Goes to Edinburgh. Death of Reverend J. B. Paterson. 
 Letter. Visits Melrose and Abbotsford. Returns worse. Last public 
 duty. Interviews with friends. Conduct in Affliction. Deathbed. 
 Interviews with Professor Balmer and Mr Smart. Death. Fu- 
 neral, &c. &c. 
 
 To the pious, the whole " path of the just" is an inte- 
 resting scene. It is gratifying to be made privy even to the 
 very first steps which were taken in the " ways of pleasant- 
 ness," and to compare the earUest developements of Christian 
 character, with their progressive improvement, till they have 
 been matured into that fulness w^hich, in the close of life, 
 attracts the notice, and commands the respect, of " the faith- 
 ful who are in Christ Jesus." It is to the latter days of the 
 upright, however, that w^e look forward with a peculiar 
 anxiety. In proportion as we love consistency, and wish well 
 
S90 SYMPTOMS OF DECLINING HEALTH. 
 
 to the truth, we desire to see his path advancing like the sun 
 " to the perfect day." It is in the view of death and judge- 
 ment that religious sincerity is most powerfully tested ; and, 
 upon the approach of these solemn realities, there have been 
 many painful discoveries of formalism and deceit, where, 
 from previous 2:)rofessions, faith and hope were expected to 
 triumph. It is not strange, then, though our feelings should 
 become more intense as we draw near to the winding up of 
 the drama of a man's mortal existence, 
 
 In life's last scene, what prodigies surprise, 
 Fears of the hrave, a.nd follies of the ivise." 
 
 Dr Johnson. 
 
 Between the earlier and latter days of Dr Belfrage, there 
 was only the difference which is produced in the true saint 
 by increased experience of Divine things, and more elevated 
 devotion. The mellowness of his piety was the proof that, 
 in the autumn of his life, there was no falling off in spiritual 
 growth. The " fruits of the spirit" flourished upon this 
 " branch" of the " vine," to the last moment. As we pro- 
 ceed to disclose the parting intercourse of Dr Belfrage with 
 his family, and friends, and congregation, the reader will, 
 with pleasure observe, that, like the calm and holy tenor of 
 his previous life, its closing scene was uprightness and peace. 
 Naturally of a robust constitution, Dr Belfrage enjoyed 
 almost uninterrupted good health till within two years of his 
 death. Upon the decease of his favourite sister Elizabeth, 
 his health visibly declined. * This melancholy event power- 
 fully affected him. Symptoms of her disease appeared upon 
 himself; and, about this time, he was copiously bled, blis- 
 tered, and restricted in his diet. He continued in a very 
 weak state during the spring of 1834. About this period, he 
 thus writes to a friend : — 
 
 " Falkirk, 17th April, 1834. 
 
 " I have been poorly for three Meeks past. It commenced 
 with inflammation in my left eye ; and, while blistered for this on 
 
 * Miss E. Belfrage died in December 1833. 
 
LETTER TO MRS RELFRAGE. 291 
 
 the neck, I unhappily caught cold, and this produced a most 
 severe inflammation in the tendon of the neck, which occasioned 
 great pain for some time. I am now in a great measure relieved, 
 and am so much stronger that I hope to be able to preach 
 on Sabbathi I have enjoyed uncommon health' for a long course 
 of time, and have much reason to bless God, of whom I may 
 well say, the Lord was ready to save me. I will not be at the 
 Synod, as I dare not yet venture from home. I suppose next 
 
 week will be occupied with the choice of Professors. Mr M 
 
 thinks that four will be chosen . I will get all the news from 
 
 you. My v/ish and opinion is, that 07ie would be quite sufficient, 
 if the choice is judiciously made." 
 
 His strength partially returned in the summer. " I am, 
 through God's great goodness, (he remarks in another letter 
 written in July), wonderfully strengthened, and walked yes- 
 terday more than eight miles, visiting and preaching. O to 
 be disposed to say, with due humility and gratitude, " the 
 Lord Jehovah is my strength and my song ; and he also is 
 become my salvation." In the month of August, he took an 
 excursion to the Western Highlands, along with an intimate 
 friend ; and, v/heu at Kilmun, he writes as follows to Mrs 
 Belfrage :— 
 
 " Kilmun, Wednesday Evening. 
 
 " My Dearest Margaret, — You would receive the hur- 
 ried letter I wrote on Monday. I had but a few minutes to Avinte, 
 but I was eager to improve them, to relieve your kind anxiety 
 about me. I felt very dull on Monday ; walked out in the even- 
 ing, and saw the vault where the family of Argyle have been 
 buried for ages. There is nothing grand about it ; but there is 
 something solemn in the spot where the king of terrors tramples 
 the pride of this world in the dust. 
 
 " Dr B 's people procured a bed for me in the neighbour- 
 hood. It was very comfortable ; but I was so dull in being away 
 from you and little Harry, that I could not sleep so readily as 
 
 usual. On Tuesday, Dr and Mrs B set out in a coach for 
 
 Inverary, which is twenty-one miles from this. We reached 
 
292 JAUNT TO THE HIGHLAND.S. 
 
 Inverary at one, but it began to rain, and continued wet till five. 
 Then we went out and saw the castle. It is a very grand place, 
 but dull and gloomy, as only three servants are in it. The library 
 is large, but consists mostly of books of literature. We then 
 walked up a high hill at the back, like that which we climbed at 
 Comrie. Sweet were my thoughts about you ; and it was a de- 
 light to me to think that I might yet be permitted to bring you 
 
 to this charming place, and our little boy with us. Mrs B 
 
 often said how she wishes to see you west. This morning we 
 had to be on board a steam-boat, at half past three ; and you may 
 believe my sleep was not long. We sailed above a hundred miles, 
 
 and reached Kilmun betwixt two and three. Poor Mrs B 
 
 is quite knocked up, and has been very sick since we got here. 
 It was in kindness to me, she took the jaunt. I am quite well. 
 We are within an hour's sail of Rothesay. I mean to be there 
 
 to-morrow, to call upon Mrs G , and to return to dinner. 
 
 There was an American gentleman, with his lady, in the boat 
 to-day, and a little boy, about two years old ; and, when I saw 
 him sporting on the deck, and walking, as well as he could, to 
 his father, and touching his knee, my delightful boy seemed to 
 be sporting before me, and I felt what a treasure John Henry was 
 to his mother and me. Tell my dear Harry this story. 
 
 " I am managing matters as well as I can. O hoAv I value 
 and bless the kindness of my much-loved v/ife, whose care of me 
 is so sweet and precious. May the Lord reward your goodness, 
 and may his gracious arm sustain you fully and tenderly. I see 
 the Redeemer spreading his wings over you, my dearest love, 
 and our little Harry ; and I feel happy in viewing you under his 
 care. I shall take a short jaunt on Tuesday, in this romantic 
 neighbourhood, and come to Glasgow on Saturday. I will be 
 home, through God's mercy, on Monday. I am wearying much 
 to be home. I expect to find your dear letter lying for me at 
 Dr B 's. Give Harry some kisses for Papa. Heavens kind- 
 est blessing be on you both." 
 
 From this short but pleasant excursion, during which he 
 had been so kindly attended upon by two of his earliest and 
 most warm-hearted friends, he returned to Rose Park, much 
 
OCCUPATION ON LAST NIGHT OF THE YEAR. 293 
 
 recruited both in health and spirits. He adverts to this jaunt 
 in the following extract from a letter : — 
 
 " I was eight days in the west ; and Dr B^ , and his 
 
 lady, w^ent with me to Inverary. The weather was not very 
 favourable on some of the days ; but I enjoyed the wild gran- 
 deur of the Highland mountains very much, and the stillness 
 and beauty of the lakes. We were often talking about you, 
 
 and regretting that you were not with us. Dr B expects 
 
 a great treat next Tuesday. The feast of wisdom is to be in 
 the forenoon, and the flow of soul, and of something else, in 
 the evening. I do not think I shall be there. I am still ga- 
 thering strength ; and Mrs Belfrage, and our dear little boy, are 
 both well. She begs to be remembered very kindly to Mrs 
 H , and the young ladies, in which I most cordially join." 
 
 On the Monday evening of his Sacrament, in the end of 
 October, he was seized with a copious bleeding at the nose. 
 He was much relieved by this ; and, after it, continued for 
 a while to gain strength. He now devoted himself, with all 
 his usual assiduity, to his pastoral labours, preaching twice 
 and sometimes three times every Sabbath. His heart was 
 truly in his duties ; and he made it his meat and drink to do 
 his Master's will. The spiritual improvement of his people 
 lay at this time much upon his mind, and he engaged much 
 in prayer, that God would be pleased to revive his work in 
 the midst of them. On the last Sabbath of 1834, he inti- 
 mated from his pulpit that he wished the members of the 
 congregation to set apart the hour from seven to eight, upon 
 the last evening of the year, for religious meditation and 
 prayer, that God would cause pure and undefiled religion to 
 flourish in their hearts and families. On the 31st day of 
 December, which was cold and tempestuous, he went out to 
 the country to a diet of examination. The evening was dark 
 and stormy, but he walked home at the risk of his life, that 
 he might join with his people, at the same hour, in devo- 
 tional exercises. On reaching Rose Park, he was drenched 
 with rain, and very much exhausted. His spirit, however. 
 
S94 CONCLUSION OF A SEKMOX. 
 
 was in a delightful frame ; and his family will not soon for- 
 get the fervent and aifectionate manner in which, upon that 
 night, he supplicated God to bless his flock, and to make him 
 a blessing to them. On the Sabbath following, the first Sab- 
 bath of the new year, he preached from these words, in the 
 39th Psalm, " Make me to know mine end, and the measure 
 of my days, that I may know^ how frail I am." He con- 
 cluded this discourse, which breathed throughout the spirit 
 of one V. ho identified himself with its subject, with these in- 
 teresting observations : — 
 
 '' How affecting were these w^ords of Dr Clark's, after 
 more than fifty-six years spent in most laborious activity in 
 the work of the Lord : — ' I have never fallen out with life ; 
 but I have often fallen out with myself, because I have not 
 ispent it better. To remedy this, I should be glad with my 
 present knowledge and experience, to live life over again ; 
 I do not admire the thought, 
 
 * Life does little more supply, 
 Than just to look about us and to die.' 
 
 " ' This sentiment, practically regarded, would be the creed 
 of the sluggard and the covN^ard. No, there is in life much 
 to be done, much to be learned, and much to be suffered. 
 We should live in time in reference to eternity. This I know, 
 that God's mercy has had a great deal to do to bring us thus 
 far. It wall have more to do to bring us to the verge of 
 the eternal world ; and it will have most of all to do to bring 
 us to glory.' Let us think, then, of the advantages which 
 will result from such a prayer as is the text. It will guard 
 us from presumption, which flatters us with the hope that 
 we shall see many good days, and rejoice in them all, — a 
 presumption which aggravates the shock of adversity, and 
 the terrors of death. It will keep us from wasting time on 
 trifles, and from thoughtlessness and levity. It will claim 
 every moment for preparation for eternity, and it will make 
 us so familiar with death, that we shall meet with it as with 
 ^n event which we have long anticipated, and for which we 
 
CONCLUSION OF A SERMON. 295 
 
 have laboured to be prepared. It is while trembling in the 
 dust, in such a prayer, that we feel our descent into the grave 
 softened ; and, while all things earthly are sliding from our 
 grasp, that we lay hold on eternal life. Let us be solicitous 
 that God may make us heirs of a nobler life than that of na- 
 ture. There is a life which we share with inferior animals ; 
 this spiritual life is the life of God, — the life of angels. To 
 this life there is no end ; it shall pass into life everlasting. 
 Often have we heard the voice of death and sin around us, 
 ' I am come to kill and destroy; but Christ says, ' I am come 
 that they might have life, and that they might have it more 
 abundantly !' O let us set our hearts upon this life, in which 
 there is no death to close, no grave to swallow; after which 
 no hell to perish; over which there is no foe to triumph; 
 but which hath grace for its fountain, heaven for its sphere, 
 salvation for its victory, eternity for its duration. In fine, 
 let us all listen to the word of admonition which God is ad- 
 dressing to us on the present occasion. To those who are 
 beginning the year in security, God now^ says, ' Awake thou 
 that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and I will give you 
 rest.' To those burdened with guilt and fear, ' Come unto 
 me.' To those on whom the year is opening in prosperity, 
 ' Rejoice with trembling." To those on whom it is opening 
 in tempests gathering and raging, ' Humble yourselves.' To 
 those on whom it opens in loneliness and tears, he calls to re- 
 signation and hope ; and to those who fear his wrath, or ap- 
 prehend their days are extinct, and that the grave is ready 
 for them, he says, point more devotedly, more steadily, more 
 entirely to eternity ; and may the God of peace, who brought 
 again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, be with you all. 
 Amen." 
 
 In the beginning of 1835, he had a severe attack of in- 
 fluenza, by which he was again greatly reduced. No en- 
 treaty, however, could dissuade him from attending to even 
 the most laborious of his pastoral duties. This was the last 
 year of his existence in the church below ; but, like all its 
 predecessors, it was fully occupied by him in his Master's 
 
S96 EPISTOLARY EXTRACTS. 
 
 service. Though very weak, and really unfit for much ex- 
 ertion, he persisted in going through his annual visitations 
 and examinations, both of which duties he entirely discharged. 
 When the weather was stormy, he could not be prevailed 
 upon to defer his visit to another time ; and, though often 
 solicited to do so, even by the tears of his most affectionate 
 partner, he would only reply, " Would you keep me from 
 my Master's work ?"" He persevered in these arduous duties 
 to the end of JMarch, and, for the seven previous months, he 
 had preached in his own pulpit every Sabbath. The follow- 
 ing are extracts from letters written during the spring of 
 this year, and are descriptive of his state and feelings about 
 this period. 
 
 " I have been labouring under the effects of a severe cold 
 and influenza for some time, which has weakened me very 
 much. By the help of God, I have been carrying on my 
 usual labours, but am more exhausted than I used to be. 
 Unless I become much stronger, it will not be in my power 
 to engage in extra services during the summer, and it will 
 be best for you not to depend upon me. My wish is to be 
 w^th you, but I cannot give any pledge till I see what the 
 Lord is to do with me. Many thanks for your good wishes 
 for me and mine ; may they be returned in blessings into 
 your own bosom. I finished my lectures on Genesis on the 
 last Sabbath of the year, and have now got to the Millenium 
 in my lectures on the Revelations. I owe much to the all- 
 sufficient grace of the Redeemer, and in it I will trust for 
 ever." 
 
 The above was written in January ; the following was 
 written in February : — 
 
 " I had your kind letter last week. I feel myself a little 
 firmer in health ; but I have been urged to go for some 
 weeks to the Highlands, or elsewhere, in the summer, as 
 most necessary to the establishment of my health ; and my 
 plan is to go away as soon after the Sacrament here as pos- 
 sible. Such being my purpose, if God will, I cannot engage 
 to be with you. Mr S of Linlithgow will, if you ask 
 
PROPOSED JAUNT. LETTER TO MRS H- 
 
 liim, readily come to you. I feel much gratified by your 
 sympathies and kind wishes. My mind is quite calm. I 
 feel myself in the hands of a kind Father, and am resolved 
 to wait on the Lord, and keep his way, and to stay myself 
 upon that arm of mercy, which never has failed me, and I 
 humbly trust never will. What an affecting death is this 
 of Dr Morrison in India ! I was often with him while last 
 in London, and, with all his learning and fame, he was sin- 
 gularly modest and mild. He had prepared his own funeral 
 sermon. Lord Napier, too, has soon followed him. Wish- 
 ing Mrs C ^, and your dear boys, and yourself, the con- 
 tinued kindness of the God you love, I am,"" &c. 
 
 It was now evident, from his increasing weakness, that 
 he must, for a season at least, enjoy relaxation, both from 
 study and duty. He resolved, therefore, to go for some time 
 to Airthrey Wells, and after that to proceed on a jaunt to 
 the English Lakes. He addressed the following letters, at 
 this period, to Mrs H ' of B k, one of his most con- 
 fidential friends and correspondents : — 
 
 " Rose Park, April 9, 1835. 
 
 " My very Dear Friend, — I must have appeared unkind 
 in not answering sooner your letter, breathing so much of the 
 spirit of kindness ; but it did not reacli me till the 30th of March, 
 
 and must have been a quarter of a year in the hands of Mr M . 
 
 It delighted me when I read it, and my only regret was, that I 
 had not enjoyed it sooner, and shown, by an earlier answer, how 
 much I felt interested in all your concerns. I am much better 
 than I was last spring. I have gone through my usual congre- 
 gational labour, and felt no difficulty in it, till, in the middle of 
 January, I had an attack of influenza, which weakened me not a 
 little ; and, though my strength is improving very much, I am 
 advised to change the air, and to take relaxation from study and 
 labour, during part, at least, of summer. This, by the blessing 
 of God, will make me quite as vigorous as ever. I mean, in the 
 month of May, to go for a fortnight to the Wells at Airthrey, 
 and, in the beginning of July, to pass by Berwick on my way to 
 Durham and York. It will be deliglitful to me to meet with so 
 
S98 LETTER TO MRS H- 
 
 valued a friend as you, to cultivate the friendship of your excel- 
 lent partner, and to mark in your children the fair presence of 
 His image and care, to whose grace they have been so often 
 commended. 
 
 " Mr H will be so kind as to direct me to what objects 
 
 might interest me in my tour ; and I should like to spend a Sab- 
 bath in Berwick, and give my friend, Mr B a sermon, and 
 
 be feasted with one from him. The cathedrals at Durham and 
 York, the palaces and libraries of the bishops, &c., are the chief 
 objects to which my curiosity points in my tour ; and even the 
 country churches, which the hand of time hath touched so gently, 
 and which, by the stillness and beauty with which they are sur- 
 rounded, invite the heart to soothing meditation, are features in 
 the landscape of England, on which my mind delights to dwell ; 
 while the friends who have gone from me to heaven, seem to say 
 to me, * Come up hither.' Providence hath given me new ties of 
 duty and affection to earth, which would render the lengthening 
 of my life and tranquillity desirable ; but, as your revered and 
 much-loved father used to say, ^ These things are in better hands 
 than ours.' O for the lively faith, which effectually quiets the 
 heart, and which rejoices in hope, that ' the Lord will give that 
 which is good !' 
 
 " Mrs Belfrage and the children are well. Measles have been 
 raging around us, but they have escaped : they were uneasy and 
 sick on Saturday and Sabbath last, and we felt anxious ; but 
 they are now in their usual gaiety. Oh ! it is delightful to mark 
 the care of Heaven over the young of our hearts ; and I wish to 
 exhibit the Redeemer to our little boy, as all holj^, lovely, and 
 good, as the best way of his knowing what is excellent, and be- 
 ing disposed to love it. Mrs B and I are in great hopes of 
 
 seeing Mr H and you here in August. A visit of j^ou here 
 
 would do me more good than all my jaunts. John Henry would 
 soon tell you that he loves you ; and if you ask him where, would 
 lay his hand on his heart. 
 
 " We had a visit of Mr Y lately, and, though I had never 
 
 spoken to him before, we soon got into each other's hearts. He 
 is a very kind, upright, and devout man ; and I felt, when I heard 
 him give vent to his feelings, that somewhat of your father's 
 mantle had fallen on him. We had a passing call from him on 
 
LETTER TO MRS H . 299 
 
 Tuesday, as he was passing to Stirling. He tells me his little 
 boy is better. May the Lord keep him as the apple of his eye. 
 I was glad that, in these days of dispute and alienation, Mr 
 
 Y was well received by all parties here, and the collection 
 
 he got was good. 
 
 " Now, my very dear friend, allow me to say, write me soon, 
 and by post. Mrs Belfrage enjoys a letter from you as much as I 
 do myself; and, in the wishes and prayers of friendship, you and 
 yours occupy a chief place. She bids me assure you how much 
 she values your kindness to me and to herself, and sends her love 
 to the children, one of whom must keep their heart for her son. 
 Present to your excellent husband the assurance of my very af- 
 fectionate esteem. 
 
 " I cannot say to you. Farewell, till I request your continued 
 prayers for me and mine, and till I assure you, that I will regard 
 and bless you to the last, as being yo^lrs, with much respect and 
 affection. Henry Belfrage. 
 
 " P. S Remember me kindly to Mr and Mrs B ." 
 
 " Edinburgh, April 23, 1835. 
 
 " My very Dear Friend, — I was very much delighted with 
 your most welcome letter, and this nev»^ proof of your kind inte- 
 rest in my health, strengthened those feelings of gratitude and 
 high estimation, which it is not only my duty, but my pleasure, 
 
 to cherish. I have seen Mr B , and have engaged to assist 
 
 him, if the Lord will, on the first Sabbath of July. 
 
 " Mr M is to be my companion in my tour. The second 
 
 Sabbath we mean to spend at York, then to go over to Manches- 
 ter, and return by the Lakes of Cumberland. This will be a 
 jaunt of great benefit for confirming my health. My best enjoy- 
 ment in it, will be to see you and your dear kind family. 
 
 " Mrs B wishes much it was in her power to come to 
 
 Berwick ; but she cannot leave the youngsters so long, and they 
 cannot yet be taken so far from home. She bids me say, how 
 much she is set on your visit to Rose Park, and how happy she 
 will be in showing how much she feels your kind interest in her 
 husband and family. 
 
 " John Henry is sitting, if I may so call it, for his picture 
 here. The artist has been twice with him, and has hit the mark 
 
300 LAST SERMON IX FALKIRK. 
 
 very well. He drew my picture about two years ago, which is 
 thought very like. He wishes to get an engraving of it, and, 
 when this is done, I will send a copy to you. Had your dear 
 kind father been on earth, he would have had it in the Evangeli- 
 cal Magazine, that his friend Harry might appear to more advan- 
 tage than he does, in one of its Numbers. 
 
 " Excuse this hurried scrawl, for which I have so little time, 
 
 in the bustle of a Sjmod. Mrs B sends her kind regards to 
 
 you and the dear children, whom she cherishes with much affection 
 
 and pleasure, and her compliments to Mr H , whom she 
 
 honours as a truly worthy man, and kind friend. I need not say 
 how much these sentiments and feelings are my own. Farewell, 
 my very dear friend. May the kindest blessings of Heaven ever 
 rest on you and yours ; and believe me to be yours most affec- 
 tionately and faithfully, Henry Belfrage." 
 
 Before he left Falkirk for Airthrey, he preached in his 
 own pulpit, on Tuesday evening, the 12th of May, previous 
 to an election of elders. He selected for his text the 7th 
 verse of the 87th Psalm, "As well the singers as the players 
 on instruments shall be there : all my springs are in thee.""* 
 This was the last sermon he preached in Falkirk. His man- 
 ner was solemn and earnest beyond its usual, and it seemed 
 as if he was averse to part on that night with his people. 
 These were his concluding words : — 
 
 " That church must be in a very low and corrupt state, 
 in which, as is the fact, ministers, in ordaining elders, have 
 told their people, that they are not to look to them for reli- 
 gious services at funerals, or for religious visitation in sick- 
 ness. How poor is the notion they must have of an elder's 
 duties, who would thus strip it of its best functions, to make 
 it agreeable to the indolence and ignorance of the carnal and 
 the worldling ! Elders must be men of God, men of wis- 
 dom, men of prayer, sons of consolation. A succession of 
 such offices the church shall have, and they that hold such 
 offices must die. ' I said ye are gods, but ye shall die like 
 men ;' — ^but their places shall be filled ; the vessels of the 
 Lord shall be carried by other hands, and the trust which 
 
COXCLUSION OF A SEllMOX. 801 
 
 death takes from them, shall be committed to others. If 
 God was so true to Jonadab, the son of Rechab, much more 
 will he be so to Him, whom he has made head over all 
 things to the Church, which is his body. ' There shall not 
 want a man to stand before me for ever." 
 
 '' Let us bless God for the experience which we have 
 had of the fulfilment of the promise. Long has this congre- 
 gation enjoyed the ministry of the Gospel. It is a solemn 
 thought, a long ministry will require a long account. May 
 the Lord enable me to abound always in the work of the 
 Lord, and to be faithful to the death. May I finish my 
 course with joy, and keep the faith, and fight a good fight, 
 that I may receive the crown of righteousness. And O, my 
 hearers, think you also of your account. Bless God for the 
 good and holy elders, whose memory is blessed, and will be 
 a blessing. Beseech the Lord to supply the blanks Provi- 
 dence has made, by men on whom he v» ill cause a double 
 portion of his Spirit to rest. Let us all recollect, that, how- 
 ever active our sphere may be, we will soon leave it, to be 
 filled by others. Of the eight elders ordained near the com- 
 mencement of my ministry, only one now survives ; and, 
 when I look around on the parishes and congregations in the 
 neighbourhood, only two ministers are alive who were or- 
 dained before me. Seats in the church are occupied by new 
 sitters, and houses by new families. ' Let us work, then, the 
 work of Him that sent us ; for the night cometh, when no 
 man can work.' " 
 
 When we reflect, that, in the course of a few months 
 from this, the heart that conceived, and the tongue that ut- 
 tered these solemn warnings, were cold in death, we are re- 
 minded of that mysterious anticipation of their decease, for 
 which, in many instances, the pious have been signalized. 
 " The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him.'' 
 
 On the day following, he went to Airthrey Wells, where 
 it was anxiously hoped he would regain his health. When 
 he had been there for a short time, he thus writes to his sis- 
 ters at Falkirk : — 
 
 u 
 
30^ LETTER TO HIS SISTERS. VISITS BLACKFORD. 
 
 " As I know how anxious you will be about me, I write 
 you these few lines. I am rather better in my stomach, but 
 still feeble. The w^alk to and from the Wells fatigues me. 
 I am w^earying to be home. I hope to reach Rose Park on 
 Wednesday. I got to Blackford, the birth-place of Sir Henry 
 
 IMoncreiiF, on Monday, and we dine w4th ^Ir S on 
 
 Tuesday. I have got a phaeton, which is of much service to 
 me : riding about in it passes the time pleasantly. The 
 weather has been cold and damp. I have been much com- 
 forted by the 80th Psalm : I hope God is blessing me by it. 
 Write me a few lines, to let me know how" you are, and how 
 the garden is looking. ^lention any thing that would inte- 
 rest me. Farewell, my dear sisters ; the kindest blessing of 
 the Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, be with you.'"* 
 
 The beautiful and romantic scenery about Airthrey, 
 highly delighted him; and he took pleasure in occasional 
 visits to the most interesting objects in that lovely district. 
 He was now in the vicinity of some of the earliest congrega- 
 tions of the Secession Church, wdiere several of his father's 
 contemporaries had lived and died ; and wdiere he himself, 
 during his long ministerial life, had often spoken to the 
 people the law and the gospel of God. On every side he 
 was reminded of the honoured names of Campbell, and Gil- 
 fiUan, and Fletcher ; and it was surely not unrefreshing to 
 his spirit, to mingle once more amid scenes hallowed by their 
 labours, and not unlikely to be held in remembrance as the 
 standard-ground on which the testimony of the Secession 
 was planted by one of its intrepid founders.* 
 
 AVhile here, he paid a visit, to which he alludes in the 
 foregoing letter, to the village ot Blackford, that he might 
 see the church where the late Sir Henry MoncreifF and his 
 father before him, had laboured in the ministry of the Gos- 
 pel. The associations of this place with a name he so 
 highly venerated, affected him not a little ; and it was re- 
 marked, that he seemed to be very much gratified with his 
 visit. 
 
 * Aivthroy is near Stirling, ^vhere Ebenezer Erskine was minister. 
 
PKEACHES IX DUNKLANE CATHEDRAL. SOS 
 
 At this time, he was two Sabbath-days from home ; but 
 though from home he was not idle. He preached, on the 
 first of these Sabbaths, for his friend Mr A , of Dun- 
 blane. Mr A 's congregation, at the time, were wor- 
 shipping in the Old Cathedral, while a new church was be- 
 ing erected for them. Dr Belfrage was pleased to have thus 
 an opportunity of preaching the Gospel where it had been so 
 purely and ably proclaimed nearly two hundred years before, 
 by Archbishop Leighton, — a Christian bishop, whose " works 
 praise him in the gate,'' and whom, it may be remarked in 
 passing, Dr Belfrage somew^hat resembled in the fervour of 
 his piety and devotion. On the other Sabbath, he preached 
 in Bridge of Teith Church ; and the compiler of the first 
 part of these memoirs w^ent to officiate in his place at Fal- 
 kirk. It w^as in the pulpit of his friend at Bridge of Teith, 
 that he preached his last sermon. The text from which he 
 discoursed in the afternoon, was Eph. i. 3 ; " Blessed be the 
 God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, w^ho hath blessed 
 us with all spiritual blessings, in heavenly places, in Christ.'' 
 He was unusually earnest with the people, who listened with 
 unbroken attention to his words, coming as they did on the 
 tones of a voice which, from their earliest days, had occasion- 
 ally sung to them " in sweetest strains" the song of salvation. 
 By this time his appearance was sadly altered ; so much so, 
 that many of the congregation scarcely recognized him. He 
 left them pronouncing the Apostolic blessing on their heads ; 
 and many and fervent were the prayers which followed this 
 good man, as he descended with tremulous steps from the 
 pulpit, to be seen and heard no more by a people in whose 
 affections he had long held an honoured place. 
 
 Dr Belfrage returned from Airthrey considerably worse. 
 While there, he had rather lost than gained strength. In 
 speaking of this, he said, " I am disappointed ; but I have 
 been forty years in active life, and have never even for one 
 day been laid aside from illness. Ah ! how few can tell the 
 tale ! — / will sing of mercy /" 
 
 By the kindness of his brethren of the Presbytery of 
 
 u 2 
 
S04i PULPIT SUPPLIED BV THE PRESBYTERY. 
 
 Stirling and Falkirk, his pulpit ^yas now regularly supplied 
 every Sabbath, that he might obtain every advantage from 
 an entire abstinence from his official work. He was grate- 
 fully affected by this conduct of the Presbytery. " They 
 are very kind to me," said he ; "I never knew a man meet 
 with so much attention. They write me to let them know 
 when I wish them to come, and they are striving with one 
 another who will oblige me most. I look upon it as a sin- 
 gular mark of the divine favour." It was, however, very 
 painful to him to be obliged to give up preaching ; and when 
 sitting in the church listening to his brethren, the tears were 
 often seen trickling down his cheeks. When at any time it 
 was necessary for him to perform even the smallest piece of 
 duty, such as catechising his classes, or conversing with 
 young people previous to the Sacrament, it seemed to revive 
 his spirits. '' I have been happier to day," he would say. 
 " This idleness is worse than the disease. To be laid aside 
 from preaching is like to kill me." He was even now^ pro- 
 hibited from reading much ; and one day he was heard say- 
 ing, as he cast a melancholy look over his library, — '' These 
 are sealed books to me now ; I am a broken vessel ; the Lord 
 has nothing more for me to do ; but how much mercy is 
 mingled with my illness. I am not racked with pain, and 
 every thing is done for me. Few are nursed as I am, and 
 how few have my comforts ; the issue is in his hands, — let 
 him do what seemeth him good." Again, he would say, — 
 " I have many ties to life. It w^ould be desirable I should 
 live a little longer, for these infant children ; but the will of 
 the Lord be done." It was thus that he mourned being laid 
 aside from his services in the sanctuary ; and it was thus that 
 he meekly bowed his head to the rod, and to him who ap- 
 pointed it. 
 
 The Sacrament of the Lord's Supper was dispensed to his 
 congreofation in the month of June. Though very anxious 
 to preside, as usual, over this solemnity, his increased weak- 
 ness obliged him to devolve that duty upon another. The 
 Rev. INIr M'Gilchrist, of Edinburgh, who had come to assist 
 
1-A!ST SACRAMENT. ^30>5 
 
 iiim, kindly undertook to preach the action sermon for him. 
 He had slept none during the previous night, from most op- 
 pressive and continued sickness. He went, however, to the 
 church, and heard the opening sermon with great attention, 
 though evidently with melancholy feelings. This w^as the 
 first sacramental occasion at Falkirk, over which he had not 
 presided ; and the circumstance no doubt reminded him, that 
 ere long he should be translated to taste of the fruit of the 
 vine with Christ, in his Father's kingdom. Yet weak as he 
 was, he could not sit all the time in silence. His devotional 
 spirit was enkindled with all its wonted ardour, when the 
 communion was about to commence, and Dr Belfrage rose 
 once more, and for the last time, to address communicants at 
 the Table of the Lord : interesting period in the life of one 
 who had devoted so much of his time and talents to the 
 composition of those beautiful addresses for which the lovers 
 of the Saviour w411 continue to bless his memory. When he 
 stood up at this time, every eye was fixed upon him, and 
 every ear and every heart were ready to receive, what all 
 feared were the farewell counsels of this sweet singer of 
 Israel ; and it was with these simple but soothing words that 
 he led the hearts of his flock that day to the cross : — 
 
 '^ Communicants, — You are now called to the enjoyment 
 of the highest privilege which can be attained on earth, and 
 the full fruition of which constitutes heaven, namely, fellow- 
 ship with God. Most strikingly does the apostle John 
 point out the foundation of the privilege, when, after assert- 
 ing its reality and delight, he says, ' The blood of Jesus 
 Christ, God's Son, cleanseth from all sin.' To open up the 
 way for this gracious intercourse with the God we had of- 
 fended, and to keep it open, Christ died for us, and ye who 
 were afar off are brought nigh by the blood of Jesus. That 
 ]:)recious blood opens our way to the sunshine of mercy, to 
 the banquetting-house, to the stores of his grace, and to the 
 mansions of rest. This great doctrine is the pecuUar glory 
 of the Gospel. Not the least glimpse of the scheme of 
 atonement is contained in the theology of Mahomet. Inli- 
 
306 LAST TABLE ADDRESS. 
 
 delity scoffs at it as foolishness. Human pride sinks it in its 
 personal merits. But the Gospel points to the cross by 
 whose blood peace was made, and the believer^s heart sings, 
 ' O Lord, I will praise thee.' This blood cleanseth from sin 
 of every kind, sins of every age, sins of every aggravation. 
 Looking to it, God says, ' Though your sins be as scarlet, 
 they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like 
 crimson, they shall be as wool.' Looking to it. Prayer says, 
 ' For thy name's sake pardon mine iniquity, though it is 
 great.' Looking to it, Hope says, ' Iniquities prevail against 
 me ; as for our transgressions thou shalt purge them away.' 
 And looking to it. Gratitude says, ' Bless the Lord, O my 
 soul, who forgiveth all thine iniquities.' 
 
 " Can you, O communicants ! doubt the efficacy of this 
 blood "^ It is the blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, — not of 
 a mere creature, — not of a mere man, however holy, — but of 
 the Word made flesh, — of humanity united to the Divinity, 
 deriving: from it infinite merit to all it did and suffered as 
 our surety. O glorious atonement ! — worthy of hope for 
 eternity, — worthy of everlasting remembrance, — worthy of 
 the devout commemoration of earth, and the everlasting 
 praises of heaven." 
 
 When Dr Belfrage had thus spoken, he with difficulty 
 descended to the table, and with trembling hands presented 
 the s}anbols of that " glorious atonement" to the disciples. 
 Having done so, he resumed his former place, where he sat 
 for s:)me time in holy meditation. In a few minutes he 
 arose, and dismissed the communicants from the table with 
 these words : — 
 
 " ' Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins 
 in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto 
 God and his Father, to him be glory and dominion, for ever 
 and ever. Amen.' Still, Lord, do thou claim this homage ; 
 and it is and shall be the delight of my heart to pay it foi' 
 ever. Communicants ! rejoice in the unceasing efficacy of 
 this precious Idood. Many things famous for their virtue 
 have lost them, and been thrown aside as useless ; but the 
 
SACRAMENTAL EVENING DIRECTIONS. '307 
 
 virtue of this blood endureth for ever. Most consoling is the 
 thought, that it secures the pardon of the sins of your daily 
 walk, and saves you from the rejection you deserve for your 
 folly. It obtained for you that gracious influence by which 
 your sanctificatioii shall be carried on, suggests the most 
 animating motives to holiness, and purges the conscience 
 from dead works to serve the living God. So far from en- 
 couraging presumption, it stimulates to holy zeal, and calls 
 for the deepest aw^e. Let this blood be sprinkled on the 
 lintels and door-posts of your dwellings, as the security of 
 families from the wrath of God, — the cement of their peace, 
 and the token which marks their connexion with the house- 
 hold of faith ; and viewing it as sprinkled on the gates of 
 death, you will be able to say, ' O death where is thy sting ; 
 O grave where is thy victory .'^^ Let this blood, then, be 
 highest in your estimation ; live in your hope, and prevail in 
 your praise. ' O that precious blood !' v/as the exclama- 
 tion of Mr Hughes, and it will be the expression of all 
 heaven to all eternity. Go in peace ; and may the God of 
 love and peace go with you. Amen." 
 
 When the table services w^ere concluded, Dr Belfrage 
 ascended his pulpit for the last time, to give wdiat is called 
 the evening directions. It was his last., but it was a great 
 effort. His voice rose to its wonted pitch ; and all the 
 earnestness and w^armth of his best days lived anew in this 
 his concluding service. Impressed with the idea that this 
 would in all probability be his last sacrament, he seemed 
 averse to be separated from the flock whom he had so long 
 fed on the " finest of the wheat ;" and again and again, in 
 still more importunate strains, he enforced upon them duties 
 to God and to one another. The congregation maintained 
 a breathless silence, and hung upon his lips, eager to catch 
 every word that fell from their beloved pastor, no doubt sor- 
 rowing the more, that they might not again hear the soiig of 
 mercy chaunted so skilfully and impressively. We regret 
 we cannot present the reader with that evening's address. 
 He had begun, Avith his usual fidelity, to write out these 
 
o08 BECOMES WOllSE. LETTER TO MRS H- 
 
 directioiis, but had not been able to finish all he had intended . 
 In the pnl23it, however, he allowed the fidness of his heart 
 to flow out in continuous streams of warm and impassioned 
 exhortation. They who heard him close his services to the 
 church on earth on that occasion, cannot soon forget the fer- 
 vent appeals which he made to his people on behalf of the 
 cause of missions, and more especially of those recently un- 
 dertaken by the United Secession Church. It is most in- 
 teresting to w^itness this man of God finishing his work in a 
 manner so solemn and consistent ; and to contemplate, as 
 the latest effort of his ministerial life, his afl:ectionate ad- 
 vocacy of that cause which aims at the extension of the Re- 
 deemer's kingdom, and the hastening of the time when a lost 
 w^orld should be brought back to God. JNIay we not express 
 the hope, that the appeal which was then made to his people 
 will be fully responded to, and that a congregation which 
 has been so long blessed w^ith such a precious ministry, will 
 evince their gratitude to God, by exerting themselves even 
 beyond their ability, to make the name of Jesus known under 
 every clime. 
 
 The exertions which he made upon this occasion, pro- 
 duced a painful attack of sickness and violent retching. 
 These continued for days ; and as they repeatedly recurred, 
 left him always weaker and vreaker. His intended jaunt to 
 England was in consequence prevented. He intimates this 
 
 in a letter to Mrs H , which affectingly describes his 
 
 feelings at this time : — 
 
 " liose Park, June 19, 1835. 
 
 " My very Dear Friend, — Though by no means fit for writ- 
 ing, the silence of my friends at Berwick, impels me to take up my 
 pen. It is now three weeks since I returned from Airthrey, very 
 
 poorly ; and, at my request, Mrs Belfrage wrote IMr B of my 
 
 increased indisposition, and that it was out of my power to come 
 to Berwick, and begging him to inform you of this. I have 
 preached none since that time. Our Sacrament m as last Salibath, 
 when I served the first table. 
 
 " My complaint is a disordered state of the stomach and boM els, 
 and great debility. I think, for these eight days, that my strength 
 
LETTER TO MRS H . 309 
 
 is improving, and I am trying to encourage myself in the Lord. O 
 I am desirous to preach again. My mind dwells much on the re- 
 signation of David, expressed when he fled from Absalom, and 
 recorded for our imitation in the 15th chapter of 2d Samuel, 
 2oth, and 26th, and 30th verses. 
 
 " If my strength improve, I mean to take short rides in a 
 phaeton, which I have got for the purpose ; and, in another sea- 
 son, I may, through God's blessing, accomplish my English tour, 
 on which I was much set. I am surrounded by kind friends All 
 that attention, and love, and care can suggest and do, is done for 
 me by Mrs Belfrage ; and He does not leave me comfortless, who 
 is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. Vexing thoughts 
 are hushed by His voice ; dark fears are scattered by His smile, 
 and sinking nature revives in His hand. 
 
 " But I must be done. Remember me very kindly to dear 
 Mr H , and my sweet young friend. 
 
 June 22. 
 
 " I had written the above as well as I could with my tremu- 
 lous hand, and was al)out to close and seal it, Mhen the post 
 brought me your most welcome letter. Many many thanks for 
 the deep interest it breathes ; and may its consolation of an en- 
 lightened, holy, and aftectionate friendship, be sealed on my heart. 
 Such is my confidence in you, that I had not a harsh thought 
 about your silence. I concluded you were from home. My 
 heart joins your thanksgivings to the God of Salvation, for His 
 
 sweet mercy to you and yours. Mr H 's kindness I felt very 
 
 sensibly. What a treasure is the friendship of so estimable a man. 
 
 " I am still getting stronger, though sloAvly. The cold bath 
 is bracing me. I worshipped with my people yesterday, when 
 
 Mr F , from Alloa, preached for me. Our garden is very 
 
 beautiful just now. I walk frequently in it. Sometimes in a dark 
 mood, I hang ni}^ harp on its willows, but the hope you so sen- 
 sibly and beautifully suggest in your last, I try to express in the 
 words of the prophet Isaiah, xii. 2 ; and the two last verses of 
 the 27th Psalm, often come into my mind, ' O blessed be God 
 for all his words of mercy.' I regret to learn that your health 
 is not so good ; and most sincerely do I wish you all that solace 
 by which pain is softened, and languor is cheered. Mrs Belfrage 
 is weaning her daugliter, which takes up her hand. She joins me 
 
310 VISITS TO THE XEIGHBOUKHOOD. 
 
 in every good wish for 3'^ou and yours. My sisters are well, and 
 are much gratified by your kind remembrance. Now, my very 
 dear and very kind friend, write me soon. Pray for me and 
 mine, I need not say earnestly : and believe me to be yours faith- 
 fully and very aftectionately, Henry Belfrage.'' 
 
 He now, as lie states in the preceding letter, sought a re- 
 newal of his strength, by riding out frequently in the neigh- 
 bourhood of his home, and occasionally jDaying short visits to 
 his friends in the surrounding country. The compiler, at 
 this time, received a visit from his respected friend, and had 
 the gratification of accompanying him to some of the most 
 romantic views on the banks of the Forth. The day was 
 most beautiful, and Dr Belfrage was in something like his 
 usual spirits. When he looked down from the terraces of 
 Culross Abbey and Tulliallan Castle upon the Forth, whose 
 waters glittered in the sun, and toward those lofty moun- 
 tains that towered in the distance, he could not preserve a 
 silent admiration. He adverted, with the enthusiasm of the 
 poet, hallowed by the piety of the Christian, to the various 
 objects in that truly magnificent landscape. His eye at length 
 settled upon Falkirk, where he had passed the days of his pil- 
 grimage, and from which, and all earthly scenes and services, 
 he was soon to be removed. He gazed in silence upon the 
 sphere of his labours ; but, from the earnestness of his look, 
 and the solemnity of his demeanour, it was evident that his 
 spirit was mingling its recollections with scenes and objects 
 more sacred and elevating than the most sublime or beauti- 
 ful of the works of nature. 
 
 The last meeting of Presbytery at which he was present, 
 was held, about this time, at Falkirk. He seemed to be in- 
 terested in the proceedings, but did not, as was his wont, 
 take any active part. When the arrangements were making 
 for the members of Presbytery continuing to supply his pul- 
 pit, he was very much afi^ected, and spoke in feeling terms 
 of the obligations under which their kind services laid him. 
 He dined, as usual, with his brethren, after the Presbytery 
 
LAST PKESEYTEltY DEATH OF Mil PATEllSON. 311 
 
 rose ; but it was noticed, that he kept perfectly silent, both 
 during and after the time of dinner. This was indeed a sad 
 change in his conduct, which, upon such occasions, had al- 
 ways been most cheerful and lively. But Dr Belfrage now 
 felt, that these, the days of his friendly and innocent associa- 
 tions with his brethren, were hastening fast away, and, as 
 regarded him, were certainly drawing to a close. It was not 
 strange, then, though the serious impression, that he had met 
 with them for the last time, so much solemnized his mind, 
 as to repress every feeling kindred to mirth. 
 
 About the end of June, Dr Belfrage left Falkirk, for the 
 purpose of visiting Abbotsford and Melrose Abbey. When 
 he reached Edinburgh, and when stepping out of the phpeton 
 at the house of a relative, the death of the Rev. John Brown 
 Paterson, the parish minister in Falkirk, was announced to 
 him. Mr Paterson had been attending the General Assem- 
 bly in May, and was seized with typhus fever before he left 
 Edinburgh, where he died, on the S9th of June. By this 
 unexpected intelligence, Dr Belfrage was much afflicted. 
 Indeed, the early and unlooked for removal of this admirable 
 young minister, spread a gloom over all who had the happi- 
 ness of his acquaintance, and over the Church of Christ in 
 Scotland. From his earliest days, he had given promise of 
 that splendid eminence, to which he attained, as one of the 
 most accomplished of scholars. His classical career was, 
 perhaps, one of the most brilliant that can be pointed at 
 among the annals of the Edinburgh University ; and the 
 compiler may be here allowed to express it as one of the most 
 pleasing of his academical associations, that he enjoyed, in 
 these days, somewhat of the friendship of this very talented, 
 and, at the same time, most amiable and unassuming man. 
 It is with satisfaction recorded on these pages, that Mr Pa- 
 terson, not only on his own account, but on the account of 
 his venerable connexions, commanded the respect and affec- 
 tion of not a few of the ministers and people of the Secession 
 Church.* Dr Belfrage and Mr Paterson had lived together 
 
 * Mr Paterson was jriandson of the late Mr Brown of Hadding-ton. 
 
Sl'.l LETTER TO rilOFESSOR BALMER. 
 
 upon the most friendly terms ; and to the former it was pe- 
 culiarly gratifying to have for a fellow-labourer in the vine- 
 yard, one who added to the highest literary acquirements the 
 piety of the genuine Christian, and the zeal of a faithful 
 steward of the mysteries of God, and who cheerfully co-oper- 
 ated with him in promoting every good and benevolent ob- 
 ject. He at this time wrote as follows to Professor Bal- 
 mer : — 
 
 " Rose Park, July 21, 1835. 
 
 " My Dear Friexd, — I was very much gratified by your 
 kind letter, and by the affectionate interest you take in my health 
 and comfort. Your good wishes and prayers, may they be an- 
 swered in mercy to me, and in blessings to yourself. My strength 
 lias been improving for some time past ; and during the last eight 
 days, I have had no return of that sore sickness with which I 
 am occasionally afflicted. Often and long have I felt the hand 
 of God loading me with benefits ; and I think I have felt its 
 softening affliction, while it humbled me at His feet. 
 
 " My kind brethren are still continuing to supply my pulpit. 
 I am delighted at the prospect of your visit to Falkirk, and j^our 
 preaching a Sabbath for me. Be so good as write me what Sab- 
 bath in September I may expect you. Mrs Belfrage sends her best 
 compliments to Mrs Balmer, and bids me say, she wishes her to 
 accompany you, and she will do every thing in her power to make 
 lier visit agreeable. The conveyance by the canal is so quick and 
 pleasant, that I hope you will come out to Falkirk again and 
 again, to relieve j^ou after your arduous labours. In these, I trust, 
 you will find more and more the joy of the Lord, as your 
 strength. 
 
 " The sudden death of Mr Paterson affected me very much. 
 His accomplishments as a scholar were of the first order. His 
 dispositions m ere singularly gentle and kind ; and his piety was 
 so intense and uniform, that it may truly l)e said, that he walked 
 with God. It was a circumstance to be remarked, that his last 
 new-year's text was, " This year thou shalt die ;" and, before he 
 took ill, he was engaged in a course of sermons on the 23d 
 Psalm ; his last text was tlie fourth verse : and I am told it Avas 
 distinguished by peculiar solemnity and pathos. The beauty of 
 his genius enabled liim to exhibit truth in a most engaging form ; 
 
VISITS ABBOTSFOUD AND MEIJtOSK A1J13EY. S\S 
 
 and, while his discourses often evinced his skill as a critic, they 
 always glowed w^ith the holy tenderness of sacred fire. I never 
 knew a man more disposed to do justice to the talents and la- 
 bours of his brethren ; and his generous mind would have scorned 
 at the attempts that have been made to exalt his efforts, as the 
 only instrument in promoting wisdom and piety in our great 
 population. 
 
 " Let me hear from you soon. Mrs Belfrage joins me in kind 
 regards to Mrs Balmer ; and, with best wishes for God's light and 
 grace, in all your duties, I am, my dear friend, yours very aftec- 
 tionately, Henry Belfrage." 
 
 In a letter to another triend, he says : — " ISIr Paterson's 
 death affected me much. His accomplishments as a scholar 
 were very eminent, and so also were the piety and kindness 
 of his heart. His last text was the 4th verse of the 23d 
 Psalm, that portion of this beautiful hymn, so finely de- 
 scriptive of Faith's victory in the last hour. Mr Moncreiff 
 is to preach, by way of trial, to morrow. There are tw^o or 
 three others to follow, but I hope he will succeed. As the 
 grandson of my venerable friend,* he will be most accept- 
 able to me.'" 
 
 On hearing of the death of his young friend, Dr Belfrage 
 was anxious to return to Falkirk, without prosecuting his in- 
 tended jaunt to INIelrose, that he might attend the funeral, 
 and improve the dispensation by preaching to his people a 
 funeral discourse. He had selected the text from w^iich he 
 meant to have preached, — '' For what is your life ? It is even 
 a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth 
 away." By the advice, however, of his medical friends, he 
 abandoned this idea, and proceeded to the south. During 
 the w^hole of this tour, he was rather sad and dejected. The 
 above melancholy event, and his own sinking strength, indis- 
 posed his mind from enjoying the romantic scenery on the 
 Tweed. His spirits were indeed somewhat excited, when 
 he found himself in the library of Abbotsford, the scene of 
 
 * The late Sir Henry Moncreiff. 
 
314 HETURXS WORSE. 
 
 those marvellous labours, which for a while held the world 
 under the enchantments of a rare and powerful genius. Amid 
 the ruins of the Abbey of Melrose, too, he forgot for a moment 
 his own decaying frame, and allowed the calm and sombre 
 influence of the remnants of ancient grandeur to arrest and 
 elevate his thoughts. Upon his return to Rose Park, he 
 found himself still w^eaker than when he left it, and had an- 
 other severe attack of sickness. Instead of expressing any 
 regret at this, he said to his family, " Be thankful I am not 
 worse. Poor Mr Paterson went away in perfect health, and 
 was brought back a corpse ; he was a young man, cut off in 
 the commencement of his ministry ; and what a long and 
 uninterrupted course has been assigned to me ! — ^goodness 
 and mercy have followed me all the days of my life.'"* Again 
 he would say, " My mother, who was a pious holy woman, 
 and who marked the ways of Providence, often said to me, 
 ' O Henry ! you have been the child of a kind Providence ; 
 every thing has prospered with you.' Shall I, then, receive 
 good at the hand of God, and shall I not receive evil ?" 
 
 From this time his strength gradually decayed. Every 
 attack of sickness left him weaker, and his sufferings were 
 sometimes great. It was now powerfully evident to his 
 brethren and friends, that Dr Belfrage was very soon to de- 
 part from the Church below ; and it was with no ordinary 
 degree of sorrow, that they beheld him sinking so rapidly 
 under an incurable malady. The state of his health excited 
 a very general interest in Falkirk, and the neighbourhood ; 
 and it need not be told, that he had the sympathy and 
 prayers of the pious of every Christian denomination, to 
 whom his works had endeared his name. The setting of 
 his sun was viewed with solemn interest by many an affec- 
 tionate heart ; and when, at length, its light was absorbed 
 in the glories of eternity, memory and gratitude resorted to 
 his tomb, above which they shall long record and celebrate 
 his worth. 
 
 The last public duty which Dr Belfrage performed, was 
 a ministerial visitation in the beginning of the month of Au- 
 
INTERVIEWS WITH FRIENDS. 815 
 
 gust. Tliis was to the same farm-house, whither he had ac- 
 companied his father, when a boy, and of which mention has 
 been made in the first chapter of this Memoir. This was a 
 place which he had much pleasure in visiting. On this oc- 
 casion he addressed the family, assembled for the last time 
 to hear him, upon the subject of the barren fig-tree. It will 
 perhaps excite some surprise, w^hen it is told, that this ad- 
 dress was carefully prepared, and fully written out. Was 
 not Dr Belfrage " faithful to the death ?"' It was his latest 
 composition, and was delivered by him w4tli great solemnity 
 of manner ; throughout the address, the spirituality of his 
 mind was impressively apparent. A¥hen he had concluded, 
 a chair was set for him in the garden, where he sat for some 
 time to enjoy the coohng breeze. His friends noticed him 
 taking, as it were, his last and farewell look of objects which, 
 from his earliest years, had been intermingled with his best 
 attachments. 
 
 It w^as about this time, that the writer of this department 
 of the Memoir went, by appointment of Presbytery, to offi- 
 ciate for Dr Belfrage on Sabbath. On reaching Rose Park 
 in the morning, he found him in a very weak state, and much 
 oppressed by sickness. He had dressed, how^ever, intending 
 to go up to the house of God ; but his increasing sickness 
 obliged him to remain at home. In the evening, the annual 
 sermon for the Charity School was to be preached in the 
 parish church. Dr Belfrage had uniformly attended upon 
 these occasions, to give public countenance to the institution, 
 and would not permit his friend to return home that night, 
 in order that he might appear in the church as his repre- 
 sentative. On leaving Rose Park next morning, Dr Bel- 
 frage, accompanied by his little boy, walked with the writer 
 to the gate. He seemed desirous to unburden his heart, but, 
 on observing the approach of Mrs Belfrage, he evidently put 
 a restraint upon himself. As they were parting, he looked 
 down to the lovely child that gambolled at his feet, and, 
 while the tear filled his eye, he said, " If it were God's will, 
 I should like to live till I saw that dear boy a short way on 
 
31(5 
 
 COXDIKT IX AFFLICTION. 
 
 the road of life ; but I am resigned to his will. Farewell ; 
 and let me have an interest in your prayers.'' 
 
 About a fortnight after this, and just two weeks before 
 his death, he was in the church for the last time. When he 
 returned to the house, at the close of the afternoon's service, 
 he said to the clergyman who had been preaching, " I was 
 much affected by the psalm you sung this afternoon.* Oh I 
 his mighty works ! his mighty works ! shall I never be per- 
 mitted again to speak of his mighty w^orks ?''' Mr S , 
 
 for whom a new place of worship had been recently built, 
 replied, " I hope. Doctor, I shall yet have the pleasure of 
 hearing you preach in my new church." " Ah, no !" he said, 
 and burst into tears, *•' I shall never again declare his mighty 
 works." A few davs after this, when the writer was sittinof 
 with him in his library, after returning from a drive in the 
 country, which he had very much enjoyed, he said, when 
 speaking of the duty of resignation, " I have a pattern in my 
 Lord. The cup which my Father hath given me to drink, 
 shall I not drink it ?"" On Sabbath, the 6th of September, 
 he was confined to his room. He was so ill, that he could 
 not appear along with the family at the morning worship ; 
 and when they were retiring to engage in this dut}', he de- 
 sired them to leave the doors of his roDm and of the dining- 
 room open, that he might at least listen to the singing of the 
 psalms. He was heard saying, as they left him, " Oh! what 
 must it be to be excluded from heaven, where they are en- 
 gaged in everlasting praises.'' While the family were sing- 
 ing, his own voice was heard in the distant chamber, feebly 
 attempting to join in their song. 
 
 In the midst of all his afflictions, he possessed his soul in 
 patience. He loved the Lamb of God, and resembled him in 
 his meekness and cheerful submission. He did not now put 
 away from himself, as some have done, the comforts of the 
 Gospel, wherewith he had so long been the comforter of 
 others. Prayer and praise were his constant emplopiient ; 
 and, wnth a mild yet dignified resignation, he awaited the 
 
 * Psalm cxlv. 4. 
 
CONDUCT IX AFl LICTIOX. 
 
 81 
 
 approach of death. He took pecuHar dehght in the Psalms. 
 He said, " What a treasure are these ! I am penetrated 
 with the goodness and condescension of the great God, in 
 permitting a worm of the dust, Hke me, to praise him." 
 Once, on awakening suddenly from sleep, he repeated, almost 
 in rapture, three or four verses of the 2d Psalm, and seemed 
 to anticipate with j'oy the triumph of the Redeemer over all 
 his enemies. Upon another occasion, he awoke repeating 
 these words of the prophet, " Who is this that cometh from 
 Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah ? this that is glo- 
 rious in his apparel, travelling in the greatness of his strength ? 
 I that speak in righteousness, mighty to save.'' And instantly 
 added, — " flighty to save ! mighty to save ! O what a 
 security ! The Lord is gracious, he is full of compassion ; 
 none perish that him trust. What comfort, what support ! 
 He is rich in mercy to all that call upon him." At another 
 time, he awoke saying, " O gracious God, what time soever 
 I awake, I am ever with thee." He often requested to have 
 read to him Hezekiah's prayer, and Psalms 42, 61, and 130. 
 He was sometimes also heard repeating the last six verses of 
 the 26th Psalm, which, upon the Sabbath succeeding his 
 ordination, he had given out to be sung after his sermon. 
 When the Psalms were read to him, he occasionally made 
 remarks upon the customs and objects in Palestine, from 
 which David had selected his most beautiful figures. 
 
 The next time the compiler saw Dr Belfrage, was upon 
 Wednesday, the 9th of September. He was now confined 
 closely to his bed. On being admitted, he found Dr Belfrage 
 in a slumber. When he was awakened, he exclaimed quickly, 
 and with considerable energy, " God be merciful to me a 
 sinner." He then stretched out his hand ; and, while he 
 grasped that of his visitor, said in a mild and familiar tone, 
 " Is it you, my young friend ? I am glad to see you. You 
 are very kind to me. I had a great regard for your father. 
 I was very fond of him, and he was my own and my father's 
 friend." He then went on to repeat a great many passages 
 of Scripture, in which quotations from the Psalms abounded. 
 
 X 
 
518 CONDUCT IN AFFLICTION. 
 
 To a question, whether he enjoyed the full comfort of these 
 delightful texts, he replied, after a short pause, and with a 
 slight hesitation, " / am afraid of presumption.'''' It was 
 rejoined, that it was the privilege of the saints to " fear not,"^ 
 but to " go boldly to the throne of grace ;" when he imme- 
 diately, and as if dispelling a momentary cloud, said, " Aye 
 it is so. Wait on the Lord : be of good courage, and he shall 
 strengthen thine heart : wait I say on the Lord."' After a 
 short silence, he looked up and said, " How beautiful is this 
 turn which our version gives to these lines of the psalm, 
 
 ' O when, in kindness unto me, 
 Wilt thou he pleased to come ?' 
 
 What condescension in God ! Be pleased to come ; be 
 pleased to come ! O what condescension !" He talked a great 
 deal about his father, and repeated many passages Vvdiich he 
 remembered of his father's sermons. After praying with him, 
 he raised his clasped hands, and said forcibly, " Amen, 
 amen, amen. He shall lead the blind in paths that they 
 have not known. He will make darkness light before them, 
 and crooked things straight." Fearing that he was over ex- 
 erting himself, his visitor attempted now to leave him ; but 
 he still held him firmly by the hand, and would not let him 
 go. " O sir," he said, " stay a little longer ; I am refreshed 
 by your presence." Again he repeated several Scriptures, 
 with remarks upon such of them, as seemed to strike him. 
 Upon making another effort to leave him, he said, with a 
 look beaming with benevolence, and a pressure of the hand, 
 which indicated his sincerity in the benediction, " Then God 
 be with you in time and eternity ! O be found in Christ ; 
 be found in him in time; be found in him at death; be 
 found in him in eternity. He is a sure foundation, a tried 
 and precious corner-stone ;" then turning round, and looking 
 upon his weeping partner, he exclaimed in the voice of holy 
 affection, " O may God grant that my dear wife and chil- 
 dren be found in Christ." Even after this, he continued to 
 hold the writer by the hand, and would not let him depart. 
 " My brethren," he said, " are very kind to mo. I am af- 
 
CONDUCT IN AFFLICTION. 319 
 
 fected with their marked kindness. You must not go away, 
 I wish to speak with you about the congregation, and as to 
 what should be done/"* This, however, was resisted ; and, 
 upon leaving him, he said, " Then farewell. God be with 
 you in time and in eternity, and bless you, and make you a 
 blessing." It w^as about this time that he heard his infant 
 son's voice in an adjoining room, and desired that he should 
 be brought to him. When the child w^as lifted into the bed, 
 the dying father placed his hands upon his head, and said, 
 in the language of Jacob, " The God before whom my fa- 
 ther did walk, the God who fed me all my life long to this 
 day, the angel who redeemed me from all evil bless the lad^ 
 When the boy was removed, he added, " Remember and tell 
 John Henry of this ; tell him of these prayers, and how ear- 
 nest I was that he might become early acquainted w4th his 
 father's God.'" 
 
 The 13th day of September w^as his last Sabbath on earth. 
 His respected friend Professor Balmer, officiated for him ; 
 and the following account of his interview with Dr Belfrage, 
 at this time, v/as kindly transmitted by him, at the request of 
 the compiler, and w411 be read with interest : — 
 
 " In compliance with your request, I take up my pen to 
 give you a short account of the visit which I paid to the late 
 Dr Belfrage of Falkirk, a few days before his death. 
 
 " Perhaps it may be proper to premise, that, in conse- 
 quence of the places of our residence being so distant from 
 each other, my personal intercourse with him, prior to this 
 visit, had been comparatively limited I had been acquaint- 
 ed with him, however, for nearly twenty years ; had met 
 with him occasionally at the meetings of Synod ; and, from 
 the circumstance of several of his publications having been 
 printed in Berwick, I had had with him a good deal of epis- 
 tolary correspondence. From his letters and his published 
 works, as well as from the testimony of mutual friends, I 
 had long regarded him as a man not only of superior talents 
 and accomplishments, but of ardent and elevated sanctity- 
 
f)iiO I XT Kit VIEW WITH ^IR BALMEK. 
 
 AV^e had repeatedly proposed to assist each other in the ser- 
 vices of a sacramental solemnity ; and he had engaged, con- 
 ditionally, to be with me on an occasion of this nature in the 
 beginning of July last, when he proposed an excursion to 
 England for the benefit of his health. The Supreme Dis- 
 poser had determined otherwise. The malady which was 
 undermining his constitution, rendered it impracticable for 
 him to undertake the journey. 
 
 " Having been informed, some time in August, that he 
 was incapacitated for his public labours, I wrote him, offering 
 to spend with him the second Sabbath of September, an ofter 
 which was most cordially accepted. I had often promised 
 myself no small pleasure and improvement from a visit to 
 him, while he was in health ; but my visit was destined to 
 take place in circumstances, which, though most painful, 
 were still more interesting and improving. Though the ac- 
 counts which I had received were by no means favourtable, I 
 found him much weaker than I had anticipated. It was 
 evident that his connexion with the living world was about 
 to be dissolved ; and, accordingly, the Sabbath which I spent 
 with him, proved his last Sabbath on earth. Other duties 
 prevented me from reaching Falkirk, till the afternoon of 
 Saturday ; and compelled me to leave it at a very early hour 
 on Monday morning. From this cause, and from the state 
 of debility to which Dr Belfrage was reduced, I had less 
 conversation with him than I could have wished, having 
 spent only about five or six hours in all by his bedside. 
 Though nothing very extraordinary occurred, his conversa- 
 tion, and his whole deportment, were in beautiful accordance 
 with his character as a Christian and a minister ; and it was 
 impossible not to feel that the chamber from which this good 
 man takes his departure, is ' privileged beyond the ordinary 
 walks of virtuous life.' 
 
 " Immediately after my arrival, I found INIrs Belfrage, 
 and the family, in a state of indescribable sorrow. I was 
 informed that they thought their dear relative was just dy- 
 inc, and that he was not, by anv means, aware of it. Thev 
 
DEATHBED. 
 
 m 
 
 requested me, therefore, to pray with hiin iiiiniediiiiely. I 
 stated, that it* he had arranged his temporal aiFairs, and if 
 his mind was engaged in exercises suited to his circum- 
 stances, it was of less consequence that he did not know his 
 end to be so very near ; and that, to inform him abruptly, 
 might shock and overpower him. On seeing him, and con- 
 versing a little with him, it appeared to me probable that 
 he would survive for a few days. He still retained a consi- 
 derable degree of bodily strength, and his mental faculties 
 were perfectly entire. He inquired with deep interest, and 
 great particularity, after such of my relatives as w^ere known 
 to him, and conversed respecting the state of the Divinity 
 Hall, and respecting some brethren whom I had lately seen. 
 He stated, that though he felt feeble and exhausted, he was 
 not racked by agonizing pain, and repeatedly expressed his 
 fervent gratitude because his heavenly father had handled 
 him so tenderly. 
 
 '' When I proposed to pray with him, his answer indi- 
 cated that he was not fully aware of his danger. ' Yes,' 
 he said, ' we will have family worship here at the usual 
 hour, for I fear I may not be able to go down to the dining- 
 room to-night.' In a few minutes afterward, and at his 
 own suggestion, I engaged in prayer. From the purport of 
 the prayer, and from remarks which I made to him, he per- 
 ceived that it was my opinion, not only that he was not to 
 recover, but that he had only a very few days to live. It 
 seemed to me that it was now, for the first time, that he 
 began to abandon entirely the hope of recovery. Even in 
 this most trying situation, his composure was unruffled, and 
 he expressed himself in words to the following effect : — ' I 
 hav'e many ties to life. When I think of my wife and my 
 children, of my relatives and my congregation, I cannot but feel 
 an anxious wish to recover ; but the will of the Lord be done.' 
 
 " His situation naturally reminded him of that of He- 
 zekiah, when that excellent prince was ' sick unto death ;' 
 and the prophet came to him with the message, ' Set thine 
 house in order, for thou shalt die and not live.' Accordingly, 
 
322 DEATHBED. 
 
 our clear friend adverted to various expressions in the prayer 
 and thanksgiving of Hezekiah, on the occasion referred to ; 
 employing repeatedly the petition, ' O Lord I am oppressed, 
 undertake for me.' 
 
 " Considering his circumstances, it was not surprising 
 that Dr Belfrage felt a strong desire for the prolongation of 
 his life. When I surveyed his interesting family, and his 
 affectionate relatives, his beautiful mansion, and his nume- 
 rous and flourishing congregation, I could not help thinking 
 that I saw such an apparatus for haj^piness and usefulness, 
 as few earthly conditions present. It would, therefore, have 
 been unnatural if he had not felt a wish to live ; and his will- 
 ingness to die, if such should be the will of his Lord, evinced 
 an uncommon power of Christian principle. 
 
 " On the Sabbath afternoon he was visibly weaker. 
 Though not racked by pain, he felt a constant uneasiness, 
 and showed that ceaseless tossing to and fro, in quest of a 
 rest not to be found, which is, I believe, a frequent precursor 
 of dissolution. When I proposed to pray with him at this 
 time, he replied, very emphatically, ' O yes ; pray for me, 
 and pray for my darling wife, and my darling children. Oh 
 for the prayers of the heart ! Oh for an interest in the 
 prayers of the great Intercessor." In the course of our con- 
 versation at this interview, I quoted to him the declaration 
 of Solomon, ' A good man shall be satisfied from himself;' 
 and informed him that I had heard him preach on it many 
 years before. He repeated it once or twice, and added, ' I 
 wish it may now be realized in myself.' 
 
 " At both the interviews which I had Avith Dr Belfrage, 
 numerous passages of Scripture were quoted to him. On 
 many of them he made appropriate and instructive remarks, 
 most of which have now escaped my memory. I recollect, 
 however, that he spoke frequently, and with deep interest, of 
 the ' all-sufficiency of Jesus Christ;' evidently deriving 
 comfort and hope from the contemplation of the dignity of 
 the Saviour's person, and the perfection of his atonement. 
 
 " At each. also, of the interviews which I had with him, 
 
DEATHIJED. 
 
 lie reverted to ministers whom he had known in his youth ; 
 expressing his admiration of their character, and quoting 
 their sayings with evident satisfaction. In particular, he 
 referred several times, in this way, to the late Mr Waters of 
 Alloa, whose preaching and conversation seemed to have left 
 an indelible impression on his mind. 
 
 '' Next to the piety which appeared so conspicuous in 
 Dr Belfrage's conversation, and deportment on his death- 
 bed, his gentleness and tenderness to his relatives w^ere 
 evinced, and evinced in a form peculiarly lovely and attrac- 
 tive. His w4fe, his sisters, and other relatives, were watch- 
 ing around his couch, with untiring assiduity ; and he was 
 €ver prompt to express, in strong terms, his gratitude for any 
 attention, or any service, how^ever slight. Indeed, every look, 
 and every word, both on his part and on theirs, betokened 
 manifestly a reciprocal affection the most ardent and tender. 
 From hints which dropped from his relatives, I could per- 
 ceive that they were looking forward, with a feeling of deep 
 interest, and anxious apprehension, to the Wednesday fol- 
 lowing, which was the seventh anniversary of his marriage. 
 They seemed to have a presentiment that it would probably 
 prove the day of the dissolution of that union ; and it is remark- 
 able that these melancholy anticipations were exactly realized, 
 
 " It is not necessary to say, that, on taking leave of him, 
 on Sabbath evening, I was deeply affected, feeling persuaded 
 that I should never more converse with him on earth. Dur- 
 ing the night I slept little ; and ever and anon I heard his 
 voice moaning, from constant uneasiness, or pouring out de- 
 vout ejaculations to his God and Saviour. But I left Fal- 
 kirk a little after five o'clock, on Monday morning, and saw 
 his face no more; and, on the Thursday following, I re- 
 ceived the melancholy, though not unexpected, intelligence 
 of his death. 
 
 " I have thus endeavoured to give my recollections of what 
 I witnessed of the deathbed scenes of one who was a distin- 
 guished ornament to our religious denomination, and whose 
 writings will form a permanent blessing to the Christian 
 
324 DEATHBED. 
 
 church at large. It is, I think, scarcely possible to review 
 the labours of his life, or his prospects and conduct at death, 
 and not feel an ardent wish to resemble him in the excellencies 
 of his character, and to participate in the consolations and 
 hopes by which he was sustained and gladdened at the last. 
 ' Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end 
 be like his.' " 
 
 The writer saw him again, and for the last time, on ^Mon- 
 day forenoon, when he was seemingly near death. Though 
 not suffering acute pain, he was evidently in great uneasi- 
 ness ; and his deep and heavy groans, which were heard in 
 every part of the house, betokened that nature was rapidly 
 sinking. Around his bed stood his afflicted partner and 
 sisters, who never, during his illness, left him for a moment 
 by himself, nor abated their most affectionate attention 
 to his every wish. He could scarcely lift his languid eyes, 
 and kept his arms in constant motion. When he recognized 
 the writer, he took him by the hand, and said, " God is very 
 merciful I God is very merciful I'' At this time he seemed 
 averse to speak or be disturbed in any way. As his kind 
 attendants were raising him to an easier position, he cried 
 out, " O, let me alone, that I may die at Jesus' feet !" — 
 " My Lord and my God ! O the Lamb of God ! O the love 
 of God !'' — were the brief expressions which now frequently 
 escaped his lips, and were indicative of the " fellowshijj" of 
 his spirit. 
 
 On the evening of Tuesday he received a visit from the 
 Rev. Mr Smart, of Stirling, one of his oldest friends, and 
 the venerable father of the Presbytery. Mr Smart was very 
 much affected when he beheld the changed countenance of 
 his friend. Dr Belfrage, though now very low, was quite 
 sensible, and listened with evident satisfaction to the conso- 
 latory words of one whom he had long loved and revered. 
 Mr Smart said, that he was sorry to see him in such a 
 weakly state, but trusted that he was still full of hope and 
 full of comfort. "" Yes,'' replied Dr Belfrage, " you have ex- 
 
INTERVIEW WITH MR SMART. DEATH. 325 
 
 pressed it well, — I am full of liop^ and full of comfort.'' Af- 
 ter some farther conversation, Mr Smart spoke of a sermon 
 which he said he had once heard him preach on the Cove- 
 nant of Grace, and asked him if he could now lay hold on 
 that covenant as all his salvation and all his desire. Dr 
 Belfrage replied w^ith considerable energy, " O yes, I can f 
 '' All this is come upon us, yet have we not forgotten thee, 
 neither have we dealt falsely in thy covenant ; our heart is not 
 turned back, neither have our steps declined from thy way/^ 
 
 The hour of this good man's departure was now near at 
 hand ; but though his bodily strength was greatly exhausted, 
 his mental faculties remained clear and unimpaired to the 
 last. Tuesday night was his last, and it was spent in praise. 
 The singing of the psalms had been his solace in every 
 period of life ; and death to him was a dismissal to that holy 
 temple where his favourite exercise shall never again be in- 
 terrupted. Once, during the night, his ear caught the 
 sounds of praise from his worshipping family, and he im- 
 mediately joined, and sung the first two or three verses of 
 the 103d Psalm. He did this three different times, till he 
 became quite hoarse, and was obliged to desist. On Wed- 
 nesday morning, the 16th of September, he was still per- 
 fectly sensible, though he spoke little. He knew his friends 
 till w^ithin an hour of his dissolution, when he fell into a 
 calm and gentle slumber, and about half-past eleven o'clock 
 in the forenoon, without one struggle or groan, his spirit re- 
 turned to God. 
 
 Thus died Dr Belfrage. The reader cannot fail to have 
 noticed this peculiarity in his latter end, that he avoided 
 speaking of death. This he seldom did ; and any remarks 
 that were made by him were general, and without reference 
 to himself. This silence, however, must not be attributed 
 to any slavish fear, or doubt about his safety in the waters of 
 Jordan. We are strongly inclined to think, that even till 
 within a few days of his death, he entertained the hope of 
 recovery. He no doubt contemplated the possibility of his 
 illness terminating in death ; but he would not renounce the 
 
326 DEATH. 
 
 idea, that the power of his disease might be stayed. He 
 had many strong ties to life ; and if he seemed to put the 
 idea of his decease at a distance, it was not because he was 
 not prepared to meet his God, but because of the pain of 
 parting with a family whom he loved so dearly, and whose 
 interesting circumstances cried so aifectingly for the prolonga- 
 tion of his life. They will not be surprised at this, who 
 know how intensely the domestic aifections were cherished 
 in Dr Belfrage's heart. The truth is, it is difficult to state 
 decidedly what were his exact impressions in reference to 
 this subject ; they seemed to vary at different times. On 
 one occasion, observing Mrs Belfrage in tears, he said to one 
 of his sisters, " It grieves me to see Mrs Belfrage so deeply 
 affected." His sister replied, " Henry, you never see me 
 shedding a tear." " No," he rejoined ; " and it is a great 
 support to the sufferer that you do not." On the ^londay 
 before his death, he aoain observed some of his friends ween- 
 ing, and he himself burst into tears. It was asked if any 
 thing was troubling his mind, " Nothing," he replied, " only 
 I am affected at seeing you so sorrowful." On another oc- 
 casion, he said, " If I thought I were near death, I have 
 many things to say to you;" but, as he never said these 
 things, we are left to judge whether he abstained from doing 
 so in the hope of his recovering, or, as is not unlikely, from 
 his anxiety to spare the feelings of his weeping friends around 
 him, to whom he knew his death would be a severe affliction. 
 Let us believe that he tenderly considered their case, and 
 communed with death in his own spirit. He was a man 
 who had died dailii^ and could meet the tyrant with the tri- 
 umphant challenge of the apostle. The prospect of death, 
 no doubt, deeply solemnized his mind, but it never for a mo- 
 ment unfounded his confidence in the rock of his salvation. 
 If no triumphant bursts of assurance irradiated the closing 
 scenes of his life, neither were they disturbed by perplexing 
 thoughts : in him faith never trembled, and hope had her 
 eyes fixed upon heaven to the last. His end was peace. 
 On the Sabbath after his death, his intimate and i'e- 
 
MR HAY'S CHAllACTER OF DR BELFRACE. 327 
 
 spected friend, the Rev. James Hay, of Kinross, who had 
 previously arranged to spend that day w^ith him at Falkirk, 
 preached to the now bereaved and mourning congregation. 
 At the close of his sermon, in the afternoon, he thus briefly, 
 though in a most feeling and beautiful manner, sketched the 
 character of their deceased pastor : — 
 
 "It is by a very singular providence, my dear brethren, 
 that I appear before you on this very solemn and mournful 
 occasion. Nothing w^as more unlooked for on my part. 
 About three weeks ago, I received a letter from your most 
 worthy minister, requesting me to preach for him on this 
 Sabbath, and stating, at the same time, that of late he was 
 gaining strength, and hoped, in a short time, to resume a 
 part of his public labours. When making arrangements for 
 this journey, and while anticipating a pleasing and profitable 
 interview with a very dear and long tried confidential friend, 
 I received, on the evening before I left home, the mournful 
 intimation that he was no more. And, oh ! my friends, how 
 necessary are such admonitions to impress more deeply on 
 our hearts, the solemn warning, ' In such a day, and such an 
 hour as ye think not, the Son of Man cometh."* 
 
 " ] mention these things, to claim your indulgence for 
 the hurried, and very feeble and imperfect sketch, of a few 
 of the leading traits of our departed friend, so highly and 
 justly dear to us all. Truly a prince and a great man has 
 fallen in Israel. His death is a great and irreparable loss to 
 his surviving relations and friends; to his kind and affec- 
 tionate congregation ; but, above all, to his afflicted and be- 
 reaved widow, and his infant children. I trust, that He 
 who is the husband of the widow, and the father of the fa- 
 therless, will be their God and portion, — their counsellor in 
 life, and their hope in death. In regard to himself, there 
 can be no doubt, that death has been great and unspeakable 
 gain. After bearing the burden and heat of the day, he 
 hastened into his heavenly and everlasting rest. As a dili- 
 gent and eminently useful minister of Christ, he has fought 
 
328 MK HAV's C'HARACTEK OF 1)R HELFKAGE. 
 
 a good %lit, kept the faith, and finished his course, and has 
 received the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
 righteous judge, will give in that day to all who love his ap- 
 pearing. The great head of the Church was pleased to con- 
 fer on him gifts and talents of a very high order for minis- 
 terial usefulness ; and under the happy superintendence of 
 his venerable father, these were brought into vigorous exer- 
 cise in very early life ; and in every subsequent period of his 
 ministry he continued to approve himself a scribe well in- 
 structed in the kingdom of God, bringing forth out of his 
 treasury things both new and old. He had a well stored 
 library of select books, for illustrating the Holy Scriptures. 
 There he spent much, alas I perhaps, too much, of his time ; 
 so that his naturally robust and vigorous constitution, seems 
 to have been prematurely broken down by close application 
 and incessant study. His pulpit labours bore ample testi- 
 mony that he did not serve his beloved master with what 
 had cost him nothing. His discourses were particularly dis- 
 tinguished by judicious arrangement, and by a skilful exhibi- 
 tion of divine truth, and were interspersed with many strik- 
 ing sentiments and peculiarly happy illustrations, w^hich 
 would not have presented themselves to an ordinary mind. 
 He was not one of those w^ho regard more the drapery and 
 ornament of a sermon, than its edifying tendency. His style 
 w^as neat, elegant, and scriptural, and distinguished at the 
 same time by plainness and simplicity ; so that his hearers 
 w^ere never allowed for a moment to forget, that his great 
 object in preaching was to awaken the secure, to instruct 
 the ignorant, to build up the believer in his most holy faith, 
 and to administer peace and hope to the wounded and 
 broken spirit. Indeed, in every part of his ministration, he 
 might be w^ell designated — a son of consolation. In prayer, 
 there was an unction, a pathos, an enlargement of sentiment, 
 and an appropriate richness of scriptural expression, wdiich 
 elevated the worshippers to holy intercourse with God ; at 
 the same time breathing forth the tenderness, the fervour, 
 and dee]) solicitude of his heart, to the hearer of prayer, for 
 
MR HAY S CHAUACTEll OF DR REM RAGE. o'^y 
 
 every covenant and purchased blessing. A principle of vital 
 religion was deeply interwoven with the constitution of his 
 mind, and diffused its sacred influence through the w^hole 
 tenor of his life. The eternal welfare of his people was the 
 grand object which ever lay nearest his heart ; and by day 
 and by night he watched for your souls, as one who must 
 give an account. That account has now been given ; and 
 no one who knew him will doubt for a moment, that he has 
 received the gracious approbation of his master — ' Well done 
 good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy 
 Lord.' As a friend, he was steady, affectionate, forbearing ; 
 of this I can bear ample personal testimony, for a period of 
 betwixt forty and fifty years. We were cotemporaries at 
 the University, at the Divinity Hall, and were ordained in 
 the same year ; and during all this long period, our con- 
 fidential intimacy was never broken nor interrupted for a 
 single day. He was held in high estimation by his friends, 
 and by his brethren in the ministry of every denomination ; 
 and, indeed, by all who knew him, for his instructive and 
 fascinating conversation, and particularly for the suavity of 
 his disposition, the kindliness of his heart, accompanied with 
 what might be called, in a special manner, ' the gentleness 
 of Christ ;' whilst the soundness of his judgement could be 
 relied on in every case of difficulty, and his disposition to 
 oblige wherever he had it in his power to confer a favour. 
 Till M^thin these few months, when his health and strength 
 no longer permitted, I need not tell you, my brethren, how 
 abundant he was in labours : besides his pulpit discourses, 
 which were always carefully prepared, making it matter of 
 conscience to catechise and visit, from house to house, this 
 large congregation, every year, which few ministers would 
 have attempted, and perhaps not another of such studious 
 habits could have been able to accomplish. Besides all this 
 labour, he was ready, at every call, to visit the house of 
 mourning, or to stand by the bed of sickness, to pour the 
 balm of consolation into the troubled heart, or to raise the 
 drooping hopes of the dying to Him who is the resurrection 
 
830 Mu hay''s character of dr belfrage. 
 
 and the life. His heart was indeed so deeply engaged in 
 preaching the everlasting Gospel, and promoting the eternal 
 interests of precious and immortal souls, that I am per- 
 suaded he would have deemed it one of the heaviest afflic- 
 tions, if his life had heen prolonged without the capability 
 of further usefulness to the people of his charge. What 
 unspeakable consolation should it afford to us who survive 
 him, that those precious doctrines wdiich he so faithfully and 
 impressively preached to others, w^ere the life and support of 
 his own soul in the day of trouble and sickness, and in the 
 hour of death. The imputed righteousness of the Saviour, 
 he solemnly and repeatedly declared, was the only foundation 
 on which he rested for eternity ; and that all his hope was 
 centered, in being found in him, in life, in death, and at the 
 judgement. When heart and strength failed, and life was 
 fast sinking, the only topic which roused his dying energies, 
 was in speaking of the Saviour of sinners, the Lamb of God, 
 and the infinite extent of redeeming love. Though willing, 
 yea, desirous to live, had it been the will of God, chiefly, I 
 am persuaded, for the sake of his dear infant children, and of 
 further usefulness in the Church, he was fully prepared to 
 die. During his protracted illness, his mind Avas calmly 
 and steadfastly looking to his departure. After a very severe 
 and most painful struggle with the disease, for a few days, 
 he laid down his head upon his pillow, and calmly and 
 peacefully, without a spasm or a groan, breathed forth his 
 spirit into the bosom of his Saviour and his God. ' Let me die 
 the death of the righteous, and let my latter end be like his." 
 " My dear brethren, the voice of him who so often ad- 
 dressed you from this pulpit, in the language of affection and 
 kindness, you shall hear no more ; but remember, though 
 dead, he yet speaketh, by his precious and invaluable writ- 
 ings, which he has left as a rich legacy to the church of 
 Christ, by which his memory will be embalmed through 
 successive generations. This legacy you should view as par- 
 ticularly left to you, — to the young among you, and to the 
 aged, to the rich and to the poor, to the prosperous and to 
 
MR IIAV'S CHAllACTEK OF J)U IJELFll AGE. 331 
 
 the afflicted, to husbands and wives, to masters and servants, 
 to parents and children, to those who are in sound health, 
 and to those who, with a debilitated frame and a throbbing 
 heart, are looking to death and eternity. Many churches 
 have envied your distinguished privileges, in being long 
 blessed with the labours of such a pious and eminently gifted 
 minister ; and the best evidence you can give of the high 
 place he occupied in your regard, is by making it manifest, 
 that you have profited by his instructions, and that to your 
 souls his words have been spirit and life. Ye are witnesses, 
 and God also, how holily, and justly, and unblamably, he 
 had his conversation among you ; and what remaineth, but 
 that you labour through grace to be followers of him, even 
 as he also followed Christ. You have been accustomed to 
 meet with your minister in this place, from Sabbath to Sab- 
 bath ; and oh ! what a solemn reflection, that you must all 
 again meet with him in a larger and more solemn assembly, 
 where the Supreme Judge will require a particular account 
 from every individual, what improvement you have made of 
 your high and precious privileges, and whether the Gospel 
 message has been to your soul a savour of life unto life. The 
 God of mercy and salvation forbid, that, in that solemn and 
 momentous day, it should be announced regarding a single 
 individual present, that this Gospel has been to you a sa- 
 vour of death unto death. The Lord's voice has been re- 
 cently crying in loud and impressive language to this town 
 and neighbourhood, by removing, within a very short time, 
 two ministers, eminently distinguished for their talents and 
 faithfulness, and extensive sphere of usefulness in the Church. 
 What a powerful incitement to stir up each other to fre- 
 quent and fervent prayer to the great Shepherd and Bishop 
 of souls, who never dies, to send forth other labourers into 
 his vineyard, that, while zealous and successful ministers are 
 not suiFered to continue by reason of death, he would re- 
 member his gracious promise, ' Lo ! I am with you always, 
 even unto the end of the world.' And now, my dear breth- 
 ren, amidst all the vicissitudes of this mortal and chequered 
 life, I commend you to Him who is able to keep you from fall- 
 
33^ FUXERAL. 
 
 ing, and to present you before the presence of his glory, with 
 exceeding joy. To the only wise God, our Saviour, be glory 
 and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen.'' 
 
 The funeral took place on Wednesday, the 23d of Sep- 
 tember. The coffin was carried by the members of the ses- 
 sion of the deceased, and was immediately followed by the 
 ministers of the Presbytery of Stirling and Falkirk ; other 
 clergymen of the town of Falkirk and the neighbourhood, of 
 every denomination ; the member of Parliament for the 
 county; many of the heritors in the parish ; the magistrates 
 of Falkirk ; the members of the congregation, and a multi- 
 tude of other mourners from various parts of the country, 
 who came to testify their respect for his memory. The body 
 was interred in the cemetry adjacent to Dr Belfrage's place 
 of worship, not far distant from the spot where, in the morn- 
 ing of his life, he had begun to study how to live and how 
 to die. The road from Rose Park to the place of interment 
 was lined on either side by numerous spectators, and not a 
 few of the aged and infirm, and apparently poor of the earth, 
 shed the tear of sorrow and of grateful remembrance, as the 
 mortal remains were borne past of one whose sympathy had 
 cheered them in afliliction, and whose charity had blessed 
 them in a time of need. 
 
 On the Sabbath after the interment, the Rev. ^Ir Harper 
 of Leith preached two funeral sermons ; in the forenoon, from 
 the parable of the " talents,'' in the Gospel according to Mat- 
 thew ; and in the afternoon, from the 10th verse of the 16th 
 Psalm, " For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, neither 
 wilt thou sufter thine Holy One to see corruption." This 
 mournful dispensation of Providence was most suitably and 
 impressively improved in both discourses, and the character 
 which was given of the late pastor of the congregation, was 
 alike honouring to the memory of the deceased, and to the 
 taste and judgement of the preacher.* 
 
 * The compiler regrets having failed to obtain from Mr Harper the cha- 
 racter drawn of Dr Belfrage. It had fallen aside, and could not be reco- 
 vered. 
 
INSClllPTION OX TOMBSTONE. 333 
 
 Soon after this, the congregation, greatly to their credit, 
 unanimously resolved to erect a monument over the grave of 
 their minister. This resolution has not yet been carried in- 
 to effect ; but an elegant stone pillar is preparing, which is 
 to mark the resting-place of him who had, during a long life 
 of honourable and laborious exertion, fed his own flock with 
 " the bread that cometh down from heaven,'' and ministered 
 also to the whole of the "faithful in Christ Jesus,'' by his 
 talented and instructive publications. This monument is to 
 bear the following concise and judicious inscription, which 
 has been kindly drawn up for this purpose, by the venerable 
 Father of the Presbytery : — 
 
 HERE ARE INTERRED THE REMAINS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. HENRY BELFRAGE, D.D. 
 
 BORN MARCH 24, 1774; ORDAINED JUNE 18, 1794; 
 DIED SEPTEMBER 16, 1835. 
 
 A 
 
 DEBTOR TO GRACE FOR MANY EXALTED GIPTS, 
 
 HE " LIVED UNTO GOD." 
 
 IN THE PRIVATE RELATIONS OF LIFE 
 
 HE EXEMPLIFIED AND ADORNED, 
 
 WHILE BY HIS PUBLIC LABOURS 
 
 HE PROMOTED, 
 
 THE CAUSE AND INTEREST OF HIS REDEEMER. 
 
 DISPOSITIONS SINGULARLY AMIABLE 
 
 ENDEARED HIM TO HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 THE WISDOM AND FAME OF HIS WRITINGS 
 
 COMMENDED HIM TO ALL. 
 
 HIS LIFE 
 
 WAS ONE OF EXEMPLARY DILIGENCE AND ENVIABLE HONOUR, 
 
 AND HIS DEATH 
 
 WAS PEACEFUL AND HAPPY. 
 
AN ESSAY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 CHARACTER OF DR BELFRAGE 
 
 AS AN AUTHOR. 
 
 The object of the following Essay, is to present a brief 
 sketch of the character of Dr Belfrage as an author. In the 
 preceding Memoir, an account, it is presumed, has been given 
 of each of his publications ; and, therefore, any thing more 
 than a few supplementary remarks on the general character- 
 istics of his writings, would now be superfluous. Any thing 
 more is, in present circumstances, utterly impracticable. 
 The greater part of the volume, to which this Essay is in- 
 tended as an appendage, is already printed ; and it would be 
 manifestly unreasonable to delay the publication for the sake 
 of any additional observations. 
 
 It is in compliance with the wishes of several of Dr Bel- 
 frage's nearest relatives, as well as with the cordial consent 
 of his biographers, that I undertake the present task. And, 
 had the task been undertaken in circumstances more propi- 
 tious, and had I felt myself competent to it, I would have 
 attempted it with much alacrity, — impelled by the cor- 
 dial veneration which I cherished for the excellent person, 
 whose talents and writings are to be the subject of remark, 
 and by a firm persuasion, that his character as an author, 
 like his character as a man and a minister, has little to lose, 
 and much to gain, by an impartial delineation. 
 
 Y 2 
 
336 CHARACTER OF DR RELFRAGE 
 
 Of a very large class of writers on religion, it may be af- 
 firmed, that their works possess so little individnality, and 
 that they are so little above or below mediocrity, that it is 
 impossible to characterize them. To those who are at all 
 acquainted with the publications of Dr Belfrage, it is un- 
 necessary to say, that to this class of writers he does not be- 
 long. With one slight modification, it may be asserted, that 
 his productions possess " that uniformity of thought and de- 
 sign, which,'' as Bishop Butler observes, " will always be 
 found in the writings of the same person, when he writes 
 with simplicity and in earnest." Not only so : they are 
 marked by such peculiarities, both of conception and diction, 
 as impart to them not merely a distinct character, but some- 
 thing of mannerism. The leading qualities of his mind and 
 heart are imprinted deeply on all his writings ; and there is 
 scarcely a page in them, which is not stamped unequivocally 
 with " the image and superscription'' of the author. The 
 following seem to me to be among their most important, if 
 not their most prominent, characteristics. 
 
 Firsts They are eminently practical. Of his published 
 works, a considerable portion consists of sermons, or of essays, 
 and short treatises, which had been previously delivered from 
 the pulpit, in the form of sermons. Not only these, but all 
 his publications without exception, were intended not for a 
 select or exclusive class, but for all classes of readers ; and 
 hence perhaps it is, that so large a proportion of them is al - 
 lotted to practical subjects. With the immense importance 
 of such subjects he seems to have been deeply impressed ; 
 and it was probably his conviction (a conviction, doubtless, 
 well founded), that, by many evangelical preachers, sufficient 
 prominence is not given to such subjects, in their ordinary 
 ministrations. For such subjects, too, he seems to have had 
 a strong predilection ; and in the discussion of them he is 
 peculiarly happy, — treating them usually with great skill 
 and judgement, and with great , fidelity, earnestness, and af- 
 fection. 
 
 The eminently practical character of his writings appears 
 
AS AN AUTHOR. 
 
 33' 
 
 not less conspicuously in his discussion of other topics. That 
 his sentiments were decidedly and unequivocally evangelical, 
 it is unnecessary to remark. In the course of his multitu- 
 dinous productions, he has occasion to state and illustrate al- 
 most all the doctrines of revealed religion ; but it was evi- 
 dently his inflexible resolution to " glory only in the cross of 
 Christ," and to " knov/ nothing save Jesus Christ, and him 
 crucified." Accordingly, he brings forward prominently the 
 grand peculiarities of the Gospel, and dwells most frequently 
 and most largely on its vital and central truths. In doing 
 this, he does, of course, nothing more than is done by other 
 evangelical writers. There are many writers and preachers, 
 however, who exhibit distinctly the leading doctrines of 
 Christianity ; but, from coldness of temperament, or from 
 speculative and argumentative habits, or from some other 
 cause, they exhibit these doctrines chiefly as objects of indo- 
 lent assent, or of frigid speculation. There are others who, 
 if not "unskilful in the word of righteousness," do not "rightly 
 divide it ;" who appear to far greater advantage when illus- 
 trating or defending the truths of religion, than wdien point- 
 ing out their practical tendency, or when enforcing duty ; 
 and who seem indeed to regard the latter as an object of very 
 subordinate importance. It Avas not thus with Dr Belfrage. 
 To assert that his writings tend powerfully to nurse a spirit 
 the very reverse of self-confidence and legality, and that they 
 do not, either by what they contain, or what they omit, give 
 the slightest encouragement to antinomian indolence and li- 
 centiousness, is no small praise ; but it is not to do them 
 justice. The conviction, that the Gospel is pre-eminently 
 and emphatically "the doctrine according to godliness," and 
 that " the word of truth" is also " the word of righteousness," 
 had taken an inflexible hold of his mind. While he had a 
 singularly vivid perception of the infinite grandeur and im- 
 portance of Christian truth, he possessed also an extraordi- 
 nary degree of sensibility to the moral influences with which 
 that truth is impregnated. These convictions and impres- 
 sions are transfused largely into all his writings. His state- 
 
o38 CHARACTER OF 1>R BELFRAGE 
 
 merits of duty are " baptized into Christ," being suffused and 
 perfumed with evangehcal doctrine ; and his statements of 
 doctrine are blended by a still more copious admixture of 
 practical remarks and exhortations. It is this which consti- 
 tutes one of the most striking peculiarities in his mode of 
 managing doctrinal subjects. Amply as he often dilates on 
 the grand and essential verities of Christianity, he never ex- 
 hibits them in a naked and insulated form, or as objects of 
 mere intellectual contemplation. On the contrary, he exhi- 
 bits them invariably in their mutual relations and depend- 
 encies, and in combination with their moral and practical 
 bearings and tendencies ; and, of course, in that aspect 
 best adapted to interest the feelings, to impress the con- 
 science, and to influence the conduct. Not only so, — but it 
 is his frequent custom to pause at the successive stages of 
 a doctrinal discussion, for the purpose of indicating briefly, 
 or inculcating formally, some of the more important, but 
 less obvious, of the practical lessons deducible from the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 The leading facts, and the cardinal doctrines of Chris- 
 tianity, are so obviously fraught with practical lessons, that 
 to discuss them in a practical manner may be thought an 
 easy achievement. But Dr Belfrage's practical instructions 
 are characterized by their quality as well as their quantity, 
 by their value as well as their multiplicity. Nor is it only 
 the grand and vital truths of religion that are treated by 
 him in a way eminently conducive to "the use of edifying;" 
 he is a guide so instructive and pleasing, that there is scarcely 
 a topic in the whole territory of Christian theology, which, 
 if surveyed under his direction, does not present the aspect of 
 a scene adorned with the " beauties of holiness," of a field 
 abounding with " the fruits of righteousness." So prompt is 
 his discernment of the moral tendency of religious truth, and 
 so admirable his talent for the enforcement of duty, that 
 even those subjects which do not seem to have a close affi- 
 nity to matters of practice, and those which seem compara- 
 tively sterile and uninviting, become, in his hands, subser- 
 
AS AN AUTHOR. 339 
 
 vient to excitement or comfort, " profitable for doctrine, for 
 reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness/' In 
 proof of this, reference might be made to his " Exposition of 
 the Shorter Catechism,'' to his "Sacramental Addresses," 
 and to his writings in the department of religious biography. 
 
 That his " Exposition of the Shorter Catechism" evinces 
 greater talents for expanding, and embellishing, and applying 
 admitted truths, than for disentangling what is intricate, or 
 proving what is doubtful, is readily allowed. His object was 
 to produce a book adapted for popular instruction ; and in 
 this he has been signally successful. His expository remarks 
 are always judicious and pertinent, often original and in- 
 genious ; but the most remarkable feature of the performance 
 consists in the copiousness and excellence of the moral and 
 practical lessons incorporated with the exposition of didactic 
 points, and pre-eminently with those which are abstruse and 
 difficult. Variety, as well as value, is thus imparted to the 
 work ; and it is rendered more attractive and interesting, as 
 well as more instructive and edifying. 
 
 His " Sacramental Addresses" belong to a species of 
 composition, which is extremely difficult, and in which few 
 have excelled. That they are disfigured by slight blemishes, 
 cannot be denied ; but they have also many beauties, and 
 beauties apparently incompatible. Limited as seems the 
 range of topics suited to such addresses, those of Dr Bel- 
 frage are characterized by extraordinary variety and rich- 
 ness ; and, what was hardly to be expected in combination 
 wdth these qualities, by great appropriateness. If the ex- 
 pressions may be allowed, they are redolent with love and 
 salvation ; they breathe the atmosphere of the Redeemer's 
 atoning " suiFerings, and of the glory that followed ;" and are 
 tinned at once with the "blood of his cross," and the radi- 
 ance of heaven. One of their chief excellencies, however, 
 perhaps their highest excellence, is one of a very different 
 kind. They, too, like all his writings, are copiously blended 
 with invaluable practical hints and injunctions. From facts 
 and doctrines the most subhme and astonishing, or from de- 
 
340 CHARACTEIl OF DR BELFRAGE 
 
 vout aspirations the most fervent and elevated, he descends, 
 by a natural and easy transition, to the scenes and occur- 
 rences of ordinary life, and to the most familiar and humble 
 duties, — thus rendering faith and feeling the nurses of holi- 
 ness. 
 
 In proof of the practical character of his writings, re- 
 ference was made also to his contributions to the stock of our 
 religious biography. Not only has he sprinkled his narra- 
 tive with many valuable reflections, but he has infused into 
 the whole current of it a practical tinge. It would be too 
 much to assert, that in this portion of his works he never 
 indulges to excess his propensity to moralize ; but it may be 
 asserted with confidence, that his moral and devotional re- 
 flections are seldom trite or trivial, and that many of them 
 possess what has been pronounced the most characteristic 
 constituent of good writing, being " natural but not obvious." 
 To assert of the religious waitings of any author, that 
 they are eminently practical, is to specify only a single qua- 
 lity, and to convey nothing more than a general idea of the 
 quality specified. It is but proper, therefore, to add a few 
 remarks, for the purpose of describing more precisely this 
 quality as exemplified in the writings of Dr Belfrage. With 
 this view, it may be observed, that that knowledge of human 
 nature, or of mankind, of which every minister ought to 
 possess a competent portion, may be viewed as comprehend- 
 ing two great departments. There is a knowledge of hu- 
 man nature viewed in the abstract, — a knowledge which 
 consists chiefly in an accurate acquaintance with those facul- 
 ties, and afiections, and feelings, which are common to all 
 men. And there is a knowledge of human nature, as 
 moulded and modified by circumstances, as exhibited, not in 
 every individual, but in particular persons or classes. The 
 former is obtained chiefly by reflection on the phenomena of 
 our own consciousness, or on the operations of our own 
 minds, and is usually possessed in the largest measure by the 
 metaphysician and the moral philosopher. The latter is the 
 result of an attentive observation of the conduct of others . 
 
AS AN AUTHOK. 341 
 
 and those are most likely to excel in it, who, to an instinc- 
 tive quickness of discernment, add some experience in the 
 business of the world. These two species of knowledge are 
 intimately connected ; nor is it possible to possess a large 
 portion of the one, without possessing also a considerable 
 quantity of the other. Still there is a distinction between 
 them. If I mistake not, it is chiefly for the latter species of 
 knowledge that the writings of Dr Belfrage are characterized. 
 In other words, they are distinguished for the knowledge, 
 not so much of human nature, as of human character and 
 human life ; that knowledge wdiich is to be obtained, not by 
 solitary reflection, but by the use of the bodily senses as well 
 as of the mental faculties, by a careful and vigilant observa- 
 tion of the circumstances and occupations, the manners and 
 opinions, the spirit and temper of men. Singularly prac- 
 tical as are his sermons, and almost all his productions, it 
 may be questioned w^hether they are entitled to the epithets 
 experimental and searching. He does not excel, like Richard 
 Baxter, at least he does not pre-eminently excel, in develop- 
 ing the arcana of Christian experience, or in dealing with 
 the conscience of the sinner ; in detecting the sophistries of 
 self-deception, or in unravelling the intricacies of human 
 thought and feeling, and in '' making manifest the counsels 
 and intents of the heart."' Not that he is deficient in these 
 particulars ; but that with respect to them he does not evince 
 the same admirable skill which he displays in other matters. 
 It is in applying religious truth to the more visible and 
 palpable, rather than to the more subtle and secret operations 
 of the mind, and in bringing it to bear on matters of out- 
 ward conduct, that he appears to greatest advantage. But 
 if he had not traced the most intricate windings, and 
 fathomed the lowest depths of the soul of man, he had pene- 
 trated far below the surface. If he had not analyzed the 
 principles of human nature with the accuracy of a metaphy- 
 sician, he had looked on human life and human character 
 with the eye of a Christian divine and a Christian moralist. 
 His knowledge of mankind was not borrowed from books ; 
 
342 CHARACTER OF DR BELFRAGE 
 
 it was the result of careful observation. Hence it is, that his 
 moral reflections and advices, if not characterized by extra- 
 ordinary depth, are seldom jejune or common-place, and are 
 generally distinguished by shrewdness and acuteness, and by 
 freshness and raciness. He had surveyed attentively " the 
 ways of men," the condition and conduct of the various 
 classes with whom his professional employments led him to 
 hold intercourse ; and v>'ith the view of promoting their 
 spiritual improvement and comfort, he had marked their 
 principal temptations and trials, and their prevailing sins and 
 prejudices. As he knew the disease, so he knew the re- 
 medy, — for he possessed an accurate and comprehensive 
 acquaintance with the discoveries of the Gospel and the 
 requirements of the law ; and these discoveries and require- 
 ments ho applies to the sentiments and conduct of men, with 
 all the wisdom and tenderness of a skilful and affectionate 
 physician. 
 
 It is proper to remark further, that while the most solemn 
 and the most elevated themes of religion are brought by our 
 author into immediate contiguity with the circumstances 
 and occupations of all classes, and even with the homely 
 scenes and the humble duties of ordinary life, these themes 
 are yet so exhibited as to lose nothing of their sanctity and 
 grandeur. Under his management, religion, instead of be- 
 ing secularized or debased, by being brought into contact with 
 worldly occurrences and employments, not only preserves un- 
 sullied its own divine character, but dignifies and hallows 
 whatever it touches, im]3arting to every earthly object a ce- 
 lestial hue. Like its Divine Author, Christianity is thus 
 displayed as resembling the light of heaven, which mingles 
 with objects and scenes the most polluted and revolting, but 
 which retains uncontaminated its native purity and radiance, 
 and tinges every thing on Avhich it shines with its own 
 splendour and beauty. 
 
 I have dwelt much longer than I intended, on the prac- 
 tical character of Dr lielfrage's writings. It was proper, 
 however, to dwell at some length on this quality, as it con- 
 
AS AN AUTHOR. 513 
 
 stitutes one of their most obvious and important properties, 
 and contributes so largely to their useful tendency. 
 
 A second quality, intimately allied to the preceding, 
 is that spij'it of ardent and elevated devotion by which 
 they are pervaded. His works may be pronounced at once 
 eminently practical, and eminently devotional ; employing 
 the former epithet to designate the sentiments and duties 
 which refer to our fellow-creatures ; and the latter, to de- 
 scribe the aiFections and emotions which ought to be cherished 
 toward God. 
 
 In religion, as in other matters, men have often " put 
 asunder the things which God had joined together." By many 
 writers morality has been disjoined from faith ; and the pre- 
 cepts of Christianity have been unnaturally divorced from its 
 doctrines. Duty has been explained and enforced, sometimes 
 without any recognition at all, and sometimes without any 
 explicit recognition, of those wonderful facts and discoA^eries 
 which supply the appropriate motives of duty. This enor- 
 mous error vitiates the larger proportion of the discourses 
 which emanated from the clergy of both of our established 
 churches during the last century ; of which discourses we 
 have a fair and not unfavourable sample in the sermons of 
 Dr Blair, once so highly admired, and now consigned to 
 perhaps unmerited neglect. The writers and preachers in 
 question are usually regarded as holding the Arminian sys- 
 * tem of theology ; but both their doctrinal and their practical 
 instructions are accommodated to a system far more defec- 
 tive and unscriptural, and might be more naturally engrafted 
 on the grossest Pelagianism. They admit the doctrines of 
 the divinity and atonement of the Son of God ; but if they 
 do not deny, they do not assert, the radical depravity of hu- 
 man nature, the necessity of regeneration by the Holy Spirit, 
 justification by faith to the exclusion of works, and the ina- 
 bility of man to perform any duty aright without Divine aid. 
 Their references to the ineffable compassion of the Redeemer, 
 to his transcendent loveliness, to our immeasurable obliga- 
 tions to him, and to his consequent claims on our affection, 
 
su 
 
 CHARACTER OF DR RELFRAGE 
 
 are frigid and unfrequent. A field so narrow and sterile can 
 not be expected to produce in much abundance the fruits of 
 devotion. Accordingly, it is not the tendency of the writ- 
 ings alluded to, to inspire sentiments of profound sorrow for 
 sin, of ardent gratitude to God, and love to Christ, of humble 
 yet confident reliance on the great sacrifice, or of eager long- 
 ing after spiritual and heavenly enjoyments. 
 
 While Dr Belfrage differs from some evangelical preach- 
 ers, and resembles the authors just mentioned, in the fre- 
 quency and particularity with which he delineates and en- 
 forces moral virtues and duties ; in other respects, his writ- 
 ings present not a counterpart, but a contrast to theirs. His 
 doctrinal creed was essentially different ; and, of course, he 
 differs from them in respect of the arguments and considera- 
 tions by which he enforces duty ; for instead of severing the 
 precepts of the law from the doctrines and promises of the 
 Gospel, he enriches his morality by a copious unction of 
 evangelical sentiment. He differs from them further, in that 
 spirit of ardent and elevated devotion which glows in all his 
 writings. In this particular he differs even from many evan- 
 gelical authors ; and if he does not excel them all, there are 
 few indeed who excel him. He never forgets, and he never 
 allows his readers to forget, that the first of all the com- 
 mandments requires supreme love to God ; and that the 
 second, which is like the first, requires sincere love to men. 
 He never forgets, and he never allows his readers to forget, ' 
 that the belief of the truth proves itself to be real only by ex- 
 erting a purifying and consoling influence; that faith is the ap- 
 pointed instrument of sanctification as well as of justification; 
 and that sanctification comprehends right sentiments and af- 
 fections toward our Creator and our Redeemer, as well as 
 toward our fellow-creatures. The expression of the psalm- 
 ist, " O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his 
 name together ;"" or that of the apostle, " This also we wish 
 even your perfection ;" would form an appropriate motto to 
 almost all his writings. He never contemplates his subject 
 merely in itself, or apart from its bearings on his readers ; 
 
AS AN AIT THOU. 345 
 
 he is ever on the alert to improve it, as the means of 
 kindling in them the flame of piety ; and there is not a 
 single doctrine of revelation, which, as exhibited by him, 
 does not emit in abundance both devotional and practical in- 
 fluences. He evidently regarded the devotional and poetical 
 parts of Scripture with peculiar delight and admiration ; he 
 had familiarized himself with them by a frequent perusal ; 
 and while he saw their beauty, he felt their power. Accord- 
 ingly, in giving utterance to the breathings of an ardent 
 piety, and in attempting to awaken in his readers spiritual 
 aspirations and desires, he appears manifestly to speak from 
 the overflowings of his own soul. " When he speaks of the 
 things touching the king, his tongue is the pen of a ready 
 writer.'' " Out of the good treasure of his heart he bringeth 
 forth good things."" 
 
 The writings of Dr Belfrage are distinguished not only 
 for the abundance, but the value of the devotional senti- 
 ments, as well as of the practical lessons, with which they 
 are enriched. While they are elevated immeasurably above 
 the freezing coldness of philosophical abstraction, they do not 
 rise into the intemperate fervours of a delusive mysticism. 
 The piety which pervades them is ardent, but enlightened ; 
 elevated, but pure ; rational and constant ; preserving a 
 happy medium between the presumption of enthusiasm and 
 the terrors of superstition. 
 
 In farther illustration of this particular, it may be re- 
 marked, that devotional sentiments and affections may be 
 arranged into two great divisions, according to the aspect 
 in which the Divine character and perfections are contem- 
 plated. They arise either from a view of the more majestic 
 and awful attributes of Deity, his omniscience, his power, 
 and his purity ; and may be comprehended under the general 
 name of reverence or fear : or they arise from a view of his 
 milder and more amiable attributes, his goodness, his mercy, 
 and grace ; and consist of love and the kindred aflections, 
 trust, hope, and joy. Of our religions writers, some, as 
 Jonathan Edwards for example, excel chiefly in depicting 
 
316 CHARACTER Ol' DR BELl'RAGE 
 
 and exciting the former sentiments ; others, Hke Doddridge, 
 excel in producing and painting the latter. While an author 
 would be chargeable with a grievous defect, if his writings 
 tended to call up exclusively the one class of these emotions, 
 it ought not to be imputed to him as a fault that he evinces 
 more skill in awakening the one class than in arousing the 
 other. The two are not incompatible ; for while " God is 
 great, and greatly to be feared," he is also good, " and much to 
 be loved."" It is, however, a great and a rare felicity to excel 
 in exciting and depicting both these emotions, or kinds of 
 emotion. In this attempt he is most likely to succeed, w^ho 
 allots a proper share of attention to each class of the Divine 
 attributes ; who exhibits the greatness of God in combina- 
 tion with his goodness, and his mercy in combination with 
 his majesty and his purity ; for it is when encircled by his 
 other attributes, and particularly by his moral perfections, that 
 his mercy emits its brightest and its most attractive lustre. 
 
 These remarks naturally suggest the questions, How far 
 has Dr Belfrage been successful in representing both these 
 classes of devout affections ? And if his writings have a more 
 powerful tendency to produce the one class than the other, 
 wdiich of the two are they best fitted to produce ? To these 
 questions it may be answered, without hesitation, that his 
 WTitings are admirably calculated to excite both ; but that 
 they tend most powerfully to excite and foster love and the 
 kindred feelings. They present many striking and affecting 
 views of the majesty, the power, and the purity of God ; and 
 are therefore well fitted to impress the saint with godly fear, 
 and the sinner with a salutary terror ; but it is on the Divine 
 benevolence and kindness that the author dwells most fre- 
 quently, and with greatest satisfaction. It was an employ- 
 ment more congenial to his own feelings, to set forth " the 
 compassions,"' than to muster the " terrors of the Lord ;" to 
 unfurl the banners of mercy, than to fulminate the thunders 
 of justice ; to portray the joys of heaven, than to paint the 
 horrors of hell. The love of God, the sufferings and the sacri- 
 fice of Christ, the riches of the Saviour's grace, the tender- 
 
AS AX AUTHOR. 347 
 
 ness of his sympathy, the blessings of his redemption, the 
 qualities of his character, as manifested in the incidents of 
 his history ; the offices and operations of " the good Spirit," 
 — these are the themes on which, in his doctrinal discourses, 
 he expatiates with greatest complacency, — themes of which 
 he never tires. And, accordingly, the predominant senti- 
 ments and affections awakened and fostered by his writings, 
 are of a pleasing and soothing kind ; — admiration, gratitude, 
 love, hope, confidence, delight, joy, and others of a kindred 
 character. 
 
 A third property, which distinguishes the writings of Dr 
 Belfrage, is sensihility or tenderness. 
 
 If I am not misinformed, his natural dispositions were 
 singularly gentle, affectionate, and amiable ; and there can 
 be no doubt that they had been sweetened and improved, in 
 no ordinary degree, by the sanctifying influence of religion. 
 There is also more than a little in his writings to impress 
 the idea, that not only was his soul " cast in one of nature's 
 finer moulds," but that smooth and agreeable as seemed the 
 tenor of his life, he was not a stranger to those severe sor- 
 rows, the tendency of which to soften the heart is so power- 
 ful and obvious, as to be almost proverbial. I am not aware 
 that this was actually the case, and that he could have said 
 with the poet : — " Hand ignarus mali, miseris succurere 
 disco." " Wha.t private griefs he had I know not ;" but 
 judging merely from his VvTitings, it seems not improbable 
 that " he had seen affliction ;" that " the waves and the 
 billows" of spiritual distress '' had passed over him ;" and 
 that w^hat has been strikingly said of an eminent English 
 minister was not inapplicable to him, — " he had done busi- 
 ness in the mighty waters." One thing admits of no rea- 
 sonable doubt, that " if he had not felt sorrow, sorrow was 
 to him a sacred thing ;" that sensibility formed a character- 
 istic element in his mental constitution ; and in the discus- 
 sion of every topic this sensibility is conspicuously appa- 
 rent. 
 
 That his moral perceptions were remarkably rpiick and 
 
348 CHARACTER OF DR BELFRAGE 
 
 accurate, has already been hinted, and must be manifest to 
 all who read his writings with any degree of attention. Of 
 him it might truly be affirmed, that " he had his senses ex- 
 ercised to discern both good and evil."" Not only was he 
 unusually prompt in distinguishing between right and wrong, 
 between duty and sin ; he had also an unusually vivid per- 
 ception of the excellence and beauty of the former, and of 
 the criminality and turpitude of the latter ; a perception 
 analogous to that delicate sense of honour in w^hich the men 
 of the world pride themselves, and which some of them 
 actually possess. His sensitiveness with respect to moral 
 objects and qualities, implied much more than an intellec- 
 tual apprehension, — a decision of the judgement ; it included, 
 also, an emotion of the heart ; for what he saw clearly, he 
 felt deeply and powerfully. 
 
 The effect of this spiritual sensibility in his writings, is 
 most evident and most happy. Holiness appeared to him 
 an object far more glorious and lovely, than it appears to the 
 generality even of Christian instructors ; sin appeared to him 
 proportionally detestable and revolting ; and the aspect in 
 which he himself contemplated these objects, is that in 
 which he exhibits them to others. Offences which are often 
 regarded as comparatively slight, assume the shades of a 
 dark and shocking malignity, when depicted by his hand ; 
 duties and virtues which have often been described, and 
 which have often been contemplated with little interest, are 
 invested, in his pages, with charms and attractions, which 
 they have seldom presented before. Nor would it be easy 
 to point to many authors, whose works are better adapted to 
 excite a dread and a detestation of whatever is evil ; and to 
 kindle the admiration and the love of " whatsoever things 
 are true, or honest, or just, or pure, or lovely, or of good 
 report.'' 
 
 It might have been remarked, that, in the discussion of 
 almost every topic in religion, as well as of matters of duty, 
 Dr Belfrage writes with a tone of gra\'ity, earnestness, and 
 affection- indicating ])lainly how clearly he discerned, and 
 
AS AN AUTHOR. 349 
 
 how deeply he felt, its moral grandeur, and its ineffable im- 
 portance. But, in specifying sensibility as a marked ele- 
 ment in his character as an author, I intended to refer chiefly 
 to the sympathy which he evinces for the miseries and sor- 
 rows of mankind. Not only are his writings pervaded by a 
 spirit of uniform benevolence and kindness ; his benevolence 
 is distinguished by exquisite tenderness and delicacy. With 
 all the forms of human wretchedness, from the coarse and 
 palpable evils of poverty and bodily disease to the anxieties 
 and fears of spiritual despondency, he is prompt to sympa- 
 thize. Though he does not refuse '' to rejoice with them 
 that rejoice,'^ he is more inclined to the more needful office of 
 cautioning and warning them ; but he is never tardy or re- 
 luctant to " weep w^ith them that w^eep.'"* While he is often 
 inculcating the duty of supplying the wants of the indigent, 
 and of alleviating other temporal evils, he is often also ex- 
 pressing his " compassion for the ignorant, and them that 
 are out of the way," or administering the balm of religious 
 comfort to those who are grieved in spirit, or broken in 
 heart. It is in his treatment of mental sorrows, and spiri- 
 tual maladies, that it is most interesting to trace the opera- 
 tions of his s}Tiipathy. Being " affectionately desirous" of 
 those whom he addresses, " he seems willing to impart unto 
 them, not the Gospel of God only, but his owm soul also." 
 " He exhorts, and comforts, and charges every one, as a 
 father doth his children." Perhaps no preacher was ever 
 less charo'eable with that " hard and unfeelino^ manner of 
 denouncing the threatenings of the word of God," which has 
 been justly reprobated as " barbarous and inhuman." He 
 attempts more frequently to allure than to alarm the care- 
 less and the impenitent. He relies more on considerations 
 of tenderness, than on arguments of terror ; and when he does 
 proclaim the denunciations of the law, it is always with suit- 
 able solemnity, pathos, and tenderness. That sensibility 
 which imparts so much force to his expostulations with the 
 impenitent, is still more manifest in the exhortations and 
 comforts which he addresses to belieA^ers. Almost all his 
 
.150 CHARACTER OF DR BELFRAGE 
 
 writings are remarkably consolatory ; and, though many 
 authors mi^ht be named, who are better fitted to interest 
 and inform the inquisitive and the intelligent ; and some, 
 who are more likely to convince and arouse the hardened, 
 few could be mentioned who are better adapted to soothe, 
 and cheer, and strengthen the sorrowful, the desponding, 
 and the feeble. He never forgets that he vras a messenger 
 from him who came " to bind up the broken hearted ; to 
 comfort all that mourn ."" Whether he v/as entitled to the 
 appellation, " Boanerges, a son of thunder," may be ques- 
 tioned , but there can be no doubt, that he was a " Bar- 
 nabas, a son of consolation." Of him it may not unfitly be 
 said, that " God had given him the tongue of the learned, 
 that he should know how to speak a word in season to the 
 weary." 
 
 To the commendation now bestowed on the sensibility 
 and sympathy which pervade the volumes of Dr Belfrage, it 
 will be objected by some, that his sensibility is extravagant 
 and eifeminate ; that it is liable to the charge of affectation ; 
 and that it A^erges toward a sickly and morbid Fentiment- 
 alism. In reply to this objection, two things may be stated. 
 First, It cannot be alleged, with truths that his sensibility is 
 injudicious or disproportioned. It, is never expressed for 
 imaginary calamities, or fictitious sorrows. It is never ex- 
 pended on trifling, to the omission of serious evils ; and it is 
 never greater than the occasion, if duly considered, will 
 amply justif}^ It may be mentioned, secondly, that, accord- 
 ing to the uniform testimony of his friends, the sensibility 
 which breathes in his publications, was in beautiful accord- 
 ance with his personal character and conduct. If I am not 
 egregiously mistaken, he evinced, in his domestic deport- 
 ment, and in every part of his conduct, a similar tenderness 
 and delicacy ; and, if he manifested a peculiar sensitiveness 
 under rough or dishonourable treatment, if his own feelings 
 were easily wounded, he was peculiarly tender of the feelings 
 of others, and evinced the warmest gratitude, even for slight 
 offices of regard. Few men, I have understood, would have 
 
AS AX ArTllClt. 
 
 851 
 
 been more disgusted with false or extravagant pretensions to 
 generosity and benevolence ; and few men were more prompt 
 to prove tlie strength of their charity, and the cordiality of 
 their aiFection, by deeds of substantial kindness. 
 
 It may be mentioned, finally, that the writings of Dr 
 Belfrage are distinguished by heauty. The properties al- 
 ready considered, are chiefly of a religious or moral kind ; 
 that now specified, belongs to their intellectual or literary 
 qualities. Among the latter, their beauty is perhaps the 
 most conspicuous. 
 
 To this assertion it will doubtless be objected, that there 
 is much in his mode both of conception and expression, of 
 which a refined taste will disapprove ; and even the partia- 
 lity of friendship must allow that this objection is not alto- 
 gether groundless. It is proper, therefore, to specify at once 
 the deductions with vdiich the general statement respecting 
 the beauty of Dr Belfrage's writings is to be taken. 
 
 It cannot be denied, then, that his style, though it had pro- 
 bably become easy and natural to himself, is deficient in ease 
 and variety ; and that it is somewhat elaborate and artificial. 
 There is a certain similarity in the structure and cadence of 
 his sentences : they are too uniformly rhythmical and melo- 
 dious ; and sense is occasionally sacrificed to sound. He at- 
 tempts too often to say fine things ; he is too ambitious of 
 ornament ; and, altogether, liis composition is too poetical 
 for prose. In some of his works, particularly in his '' Sacra- 
 mental Atldresses," he is too fond of personifying the Chris- 
 tian graces and virtues, and other abstract qualities. His 
 enumerations and antitheses recur too frequently; and the 
 particulars of the former are not always perfectly congruous ; 
 nor do the members of the latter present always a natural or 
 happy contrast. The consequence of this want of freedom, 
 and of this excess of elaboration and embellishment, is, that 
 his composition is characterized by a degree of uniformity, 
 which induces occasionally a feeling of languor 
 
 These are large concessions ; larger, perhaps, than they 
 ought to be, because they are extorted by an anxiety not to 
 
S52 CHARACTER OF DR BELFRAGE 
 
 exaggerate Dr Belfrage's excellencies and merits as an author. 
 Notwithstanding these large abatements, it may be confi- 
 dently asserted, that his writings are characterized by great 
 beauty. If, in his embellishment, there is some tinsel, there 
 is also much gold. The principal fault, indeed, of his em- 
 bellishment, is not its quality but its profusion. If his figures, 
 and the other brilliant or striking peculiarities of his diction, 
 had been less numerous, they would have been more ad- 
 mired ; and the very superabundance of his beauties tends, 
 more than any thing else, to impair their effect. 
 
 His writings are perfectly free from the faults of that de- 
 clamatory and extravagant style, which has lately been in- 
 troduced, and which has been copied by so many young 
 preachers. He shows no predilection for uncouth or pe- 
 dantic, for novel or obsolete terms. He indulges not in 
 palling repetitions, or hyperbolical amplifications ; nor does 
 he ever expand a single thought, however valuable, beyond 
 all reasonable dimensions. He dispenses liberally from the 
 stores of an exhaustless fancy, but he never deals in mere 
 decoration, or employs images without corresponding ideas. 
 
 Even those peculiarities in his mode of conception and ex- 
 pression, which may be disapproved of by a refined taste, 
 will, like the peculiarities of Tacitus, and the later Roman 
 writers, be regarded by many readers, as " dulcia vicia," 
 agreeable faults. Take at random a few paragraphs from 
 any of his volumes, and transplant them into pages of " flat 
 and arid common places,"" or even into the pages of authors 
 endowed with superior intellect, but possessed of little sen- 
 sibility or imagination, and they will appear like verdant 
 spots in the desert. 
 
 Justice and candour require that it be observed further, 
 that, among his works may be found many long passages, if 
 not entire volumes, in which he is both select and sparing in 
 ornament, and the composition of which may be pronounced 
 elegantly simple, " simplex munditiis." It is indeed scarcely 
 possible to open any one of his volumes, and not meet with 
 fine things finely said, and with passages of exquisite beauty; 
 
AS AN AUTHOK. SoS 
 
 and, even where there are slight blemishes, there is generally 
 such a preponderance of the beautifnl, that this quality may 
 be truly predicated as a prominent feature of his writings. 
 There is scarcely a doctrine in the vast sphere of Christian 
 theology, and there is scarcely a duty within the wide com- 
 pass of Christian morality, to which he does not some where 
 advert ; and no topic does he touch without impressing on it 
 the tints and colours of his exuberant fancy. Though not 
 w^holly, it is, in no small measure, owing to the union of this 
 and the preceding quality, the union of sensibility and beau- 
 ty, that religion appears, in his w^orks, in a form so singu- 
 larly attractive and lovely. As exhibited by him, " her 
 ways are" indeed " ways of pleasantness, and all her paths 
 are peace." 
 
 Whether the sermons, and the other w^ritings of Dr Bel- 
 frage, ought to be characterized as eloquent, is a question 
 wdiich admits of different answers, according to the sense 
 affixed to the term. Frequently, though not in every 
 page, they present " thoughts that breathe, and words that 
 burn." They have not the force, and vehemence, and splen- 
 dour which would entitle them to a place in the highest 
 species of eloquence. His " doctrine" does not come wath 
 the impetuous and resistless rush of the tempest or the tor- 
 rent, it " drops as the rain, and distils as the dew, as the 
 small rain upon the tender herb, and as the showers upon 
 the grass.*' But if his composition is not pitched in the 
 elevated and impassioned tone of the loftiest oratory, it is to 
 be recollected, that " the mild sentiments, as well as the 
 vehement passions, have their eloquence ;" and that there is 
 genuine eloquence, though not eloquence of the highest or- 
 der, wherever important truth is illustrated and enforced, 
 with more than common ability and earnestness, and with 
 more than an ordinary portion of appropriate imagery. Now, 
 of this eloquence there is much in the writings of our author. 
 Still, however, their predominant characteristic, in a literary 
 or intellectual view, is, that they are affectionate, persuasive, 
 and pleasing, rather than profound or powerful. They do 
 
354 CHARACTER OF DR BELFRAGK 
 
 not exhibit that conjunction of gigantic intellect, of intense 
 and heart-thrilling emotion, of rich fancy, and refined taste, 
 which constitutes " the perfection of strength and beauty." 
 In perusing them, therefore, we do not feel as if called to 
 contemplate what has been happily described as " the rude 
 magnificence of nature ;" or, as if gazing on objects and scenes 
 of romantic or terrific grandeur ; — mighty rivers, stupendous 
 mountains, frightful cataracts, trackless and interminable 
 forests. The impression which they produce resembles rather 
 that experienced on surveying a region which is every where 
 enclosed and cultivated, in which the hand of art is too ap- 
 parent, but which, though its general aspect is somewhat 
 tame and uniform, contains many rich and pleasing scenes ; 
 fields vv^aving with corn, pastures clothed with flocks, and 
 gardens decked with a profusion of gorgeous and odoriferous 
 flovrers. 
 
 In Dr Belfrase's character as an author, there are various 
 other attributes to which it might have been proper to ad- 
 vert, if circumstances had permitted. It might have been 
 proper, for example, to notice his pov^ers for illustration, 
 which are not less remarkable than his talents for embellish- 
 meiit. Such is the fertility of his mind, so ample is the 
 stock of his ideas on every subject, that it seems easy to him 
 to be minute and full, vrithout prolixity or repetition, and 
 w^ithout descending to what is commonplace or irrelevant, 
 frivolous or uninteresting. It might have been remarked 
 al^o, that he is " mighty in the Scriptures ;" and that his 
 intimate acquaintance with them appears, not so much in the 
 felicity and beauty of his scriptural allusions, or in the light 
 w^hich he throv»'s on obscure and difficult passages, as in the 
 multiplicity, and variety, and aptitude of his Scripture quo- 
 tations. But on these, and on other particulars, it is impos- 
 sible to enlarge. 
 
 Enough, it is hoped, has been said to supply the materials 
 for the formation of a tolerably accurate estimate both of his 
 talents and writings. The powers of his mind seem, on the 
 whole, to have been harmoniously balanced. No one faculty 
 
AS AX AUTHOR. .S55 
 
 was defective or feeble ; but he was certainly far more re- 
 markable for the richness of his fancy, and the warmth of his 
 sensibility, than for the delicacy of his taste, or for his dis- 
 cursive and argumentative powers. Of genius, as distin- 
 guished by some from talents, as implying inventive powers, 
 and a capacity of original thought, he possessed a consider- 
 able portion ; and this is abundantly evinced in the fulness 
 and originality of his illustrations of subjects, which had 
 often before been well illustrated. His judgement, at the 
 same time, was distinguished by soundness and sobriety ; and 
 probably there is not an instance in all his productions, in 
 which he has been seduced into a wild or paradoxical senti- 
 ment, b}^ the love of ingenuity or novelty. It is almost un- 
 necessary to add, that his faculties had been sharpened and 
 invigorated by long and unremitting application ; and that 
 they were all under the control of an enlightened and fervent 
 piety. 
 
 Of the value of his writings, also, a little consideration 
 may now enable us to form a correct opinion. His warmest 
 admirers will not claim for him the luminous simplicity, the 
 masculine energy, the logical precision, and faultless ele- 
 gance of Dr Dick ; nor will it be pretended that lie possess- 
 ed the extraordinary powers of that admirable writer, for 
 simplifying what is intricate, and illuminating what is ob- 
 scure. Still less has it fallen to his lot, to rescue from 
 neglect some important principle, destined to -change the 
 frame and aspect of the church ; and in spite of all the 
 efforts of obloquy and sophistry, to establish that principle 
 on an immoveable basis, by a succession of triumj^hant de- 
 fences. The works of Dr Belfrage contain no elaborate cri- 
 tical discussions, no lengthened processes of profound or 
 subtle reasoning, and no specimens of lofty and adventurous 
 speculation. They do not reflect much new light on difficult 
 and controverted questions in divinity; and while they abound 
 with ingenious remarks, and furnish many specimens of brief 
 and acute argument, it would not be impossible to detect in 
 them instances of illogical and inconclusive reasoning. In- 
 
356 CHARACTER OF DR BELFRAGE 
 
 deed, his doctrinal writings, particularly his remarks on the 
 first part of the Shorter Catechism, excellent as they are, 
 would have been still more excellent, if, without being less 
 imaginative, or less sentimental, they had evinced more of 
 the logician and the theologian. 
 
 In what then chiefly does the value of his works con- 
 sist ? and what is precisely its amount ? To answer these 
 questions, it is indispensably requisite to keep steadily in view 
 the equitable and reasonable maxim : — " In every work 
 regard the author's end."' Dr Belfrage wrote, as was for- 
 merly observed, for the edification of the great mass of 
 readers, of " the common people," as well as of the wealthy 
 and the educated. His object was not to discover new 
 truths, nor even to corroborate old ones by new" proofs, but 
 to illustrate and apply for general edification, the cardinal 
 doctrines of the Gospel, and " the weightier matters of the 
 law." To determine, then, his merits as an author, the ques- 
 tion is. How far has he succeeded in this most important un- 
 dertaking ? If the preceding observations be substantially 
 just, w^e are warranted to reply, that he has been signally 
 successful. Critical discussions, and metaphysical reason- 
 ings, and conjectural speculations, instead of advancing, 
 would have obstructed his object ; and he has evinced his 
 good sense by not attempting them. But, as has been al- 
 ready remarked, there is scarcely a doctrine in the Christian 
 system, which he has not somewhere stated with accuracy, 
 and surrounded with new illustrations and ornaments ; point- 
 ing out at the same time, with ability and interest, the ali- 
 ment which it ministers to devout feeling and a holy j^rac- 
 tice. And still greater are the ingenuity and skill with 
 which he has applied the precepts of Christianity to the end- 
 lessly diversified circumstances, and occurrences, and pur- 
 suits of human life. It is to these labours chiefly that his 
 writings are devoted ; and if in these labours he has not dis- 
 played the genius of a profound philosopher, or a first-rate 
 orator, he has displayed, in an eminent degree, the talents 
 and attainments of an " able minister of the New Testa- 
 
AS AN AITTHOK. 357 
 
 ment." He has shown himself " a scribe well instructed in 
 the mysteries of the kingdom of God ; and like a wise house- 
 holder, has brought out of his treasure things new and 
 old." 
 
 It is the remark of an eminent Roman poet and critic,* 
 that he is the most successful waiter, who blends the useful 
 with the agreeable ; and the remark is applicable to other 
 species of composition, besides that to which its author ap- 
 plies it. Tried by this test, the productions of Dr Belfrage 
 are entitled to the highest praise ; for this union forms their 
 most remarkable characteristic, that to the formation of 
 which their other qualities all concur. They are fitted to be 
 more useful than many writings distinguished by greater ta- 
 lents and greater learning. They array wisdom and piety in 
 the garb of beauty, and are adapted at once to please and 
 edify. Like "the bread of heaven," with which the Israelites 
 w^ere fed in the wilderness, they are fitted to gratify every 
 taste, and to minister nourishment to every constitution. It 
 is scarcely possible to peruse them, and not perceive, that to 
 impart instruction in a beauteous and attractive form, is an 
 object which must often have been uppermost in the mind of 
 the author, even when he was not actually engaged in the 
 business of composition ; and that, with a view to this end, 
 he studied the records of biography and history, and observed 
 the scenes of external nature, and the occurrences of human 
 life. He was " a wise preacher, who still taught the people 
 knowledge ; who gave good heed, and sought out, and set in 
 order many wise sayings ; a preacher who sought to find out 
 acceptable words." 
 
 While his writings are accommodated to readers of all 
 classes and characters, they are probably better adapted to 
 improve and comfort saints, than to alarm and convert sin- 
 ners, — to propel forward those w^ho have already entered on 
 " the way of holiness," than to reclaim to it those who are 
 w^andering in the paths of folly and iniquity. They contain, 
 undoubtedly, many of those pointed sayings, which are fitted 
 * " Omnc tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci." 
 
 A a 
 
358 CHARACTER OF DR BELFRAGE 
 
 to fix themselves in the conscience, " as goads, and as nails 
 fastened by the masters of assemblies f' but they abound still 
 more with those beautiful remarks, which at once strike the 
 fancy, and touch the heart, and which are " as apples of gold 
 in pictures," or in a network " of silver." They reflect the 
 excellencies which adorned his personal character, tending 
 to inspire a devout, and benevolent, and affectionate disposi- 
 tion, " to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and 
 the heart of the children to their fathers," and " to make 
 ready a people prepared for the Lord." What has been said 
 of the writings of Witsius, might, with at least equal pro- 
 priety, be said of those of Dr Belfrage. " They are like the 
 golden pot that had manna," — " outwardly bright with bur- 
 nished gold, inwardly rich with heavenly food." By these 
 writings, "he being dead, yet speaketh." By these writings 
 he will long continue to speak, and to " speak to edification, 
 and exhortation, and comfort," — a renown " far transcending 
 all Greek and Roman fame." 
 
 In judging of the character of an author, it is a natural 
 inquiry. Who are the writers w^hom he most admired and 
 imitated, or whom he most resembled ? Whether Dr Bel- 
 frage selected any author as his model, it is perhaps impos- 
 sible to ascertain. In the exuberance of his imagination, and 
 in some other particulars, he reminds us occasionally of Mr 
 M'Ewen, author of " Essays on the Types, &c.," — a writer, 
 who, had he not been cut off in the flower of his age, would 
 probably have carried pulpit eloquence to a degree of perfec- 
 tion, which it had not before reached in Scotland. Still more 
 frequently do the writings of Dr Belfrage remind us, by their 
 practical and sentimental cast, of those of Miss Hannah 
 More, and of Mr Jay ; and it is highly probable, that their 
 works had some influence in modifying the complexion both 
 of his thoughts and his language. His productions, however, 
 though they seldom present long trains of consecutive thought 
 or reasoning, possess a logical coherence, which we search for 
 in vain in the writings of Hannah More ; and they are by 
 no means so thickly studded with quaint antitheses, and 
 
AS AN AUTHOR. 35.9 
 
 brilliant comparisons, and with other sparkling peculiarities ; 
 peculiarities which make it almost impossible to collect and 
 retain the instruction which she conveys, and which render 
 her writings a feast composed of delicacies fit only for a des- 
 sert, — a dress consisting of fineries fit only for ornament. To 
 those of Mr Jay, the writings of Dr Belfrage have a consi- 
 derable affinity ; while it must be admitted, that the Scottish 
 divine is inferior to the English preacher in ease, and point, 
 and eiFect, and in the abundance and felicity of scriptural al- 
 lusions and quotations. 
 
 There is another particular, which it would be improper 
 to omit, in estimating Dr Belfrage's merits ; and that is, the 
 multiplicity of his productions. It is no doubt true, that of 
 his published works, a large proportion consists of discourses 
 which had been previously preached to his congregation. 
 Still, however, when we consider the number and import- 
 ance of his ministerial duties, and the exemplary diligence 
 with which he discharged them, it seems truly astonishing 
 that he was able to prepare so many volumes for the press ; 
 all of them instructive and respectable, and some of them 
 characterized by very superior excellence. It is to be recol- 
 lected, also, that besides the publications to which he pre- 
 fixed his name, he contributed a vast number of essays and 
 reviews to different periodicals. The quantity of labour 
 performed by him as an author, though not altogether un- 
 exampled, has not been often equalled ; and deserves notice, 
 as indicating at once the facility with which he comiDosed, 
 and the assiduity with which he applied to the work of 
 composition. Whether his performances would have been 
 greatly superior to what they are, if he had expended on 
 them more time and more exertion, is a question which I 
 am unable to answer. But it is certain that they are 
 marked by considerable inequality. His " Sermons to the 
 Young,"" his " Counsels for the Sanctuary and for Civil Life," 
 and some other volumes of practical discourses, seem to me 
 decidedly the best of his productions. 
 
 In concluding this hasty and imperfect sketch, the writer 
 
360 CHARACTER AS AN AUTHOR. 
 
 may be permitted to add, that he would probably never have 
 attempted it, if he had consulted his own powers, and at- 
 tended to the demands of other duties, instead of yielding to 
 the wish to gratify living friends, and to do honour to the 
 dead. But he ventures to hope, that among the numerous 
 readers of the works of Dr Belfrage, a considerable propor- 
 tion may peruse the preceding remarks not w^holly without 
 interest, were it only for the purpose of ascertaining how far 
 the opinion expressed in them coincides with their own. He 
 is perfectly aware, that it is extremely difficult to reduce 
 matters of taste and criticism to fixed principles, and that 
 there is scarcely any subject affording so much scope for di- 
 versity of sentiment as the merits of an author. It will not, 
 therefore, surprise him, if some should dissent widely from 
 the verdict which he has pronounced ; and he will be per- 
 fectly satisfied, if the majority of his readers shall think that, 
 on the whole, he has approximated to a correct and equitable 
 estimate. Should it be thought, that in any one particular 
 he has treated Dr Belfrage with severity, he will feel deep 
 regret. While he has adverted to faults and blemishes with 
 a reluctant and trembling hand, he has endeavoured to guard 
 against undue partiality; but it is not impossible that, in 
 doing this, he may have been betrayed occasionally into the 
 opposite extreme. Should there be any (as probably there 
 will), who are of opinion that he has presented an exagge- 
 rated representation of Dr Belfrage's intellectual endowments 
 and attainments, they will, perhaps, excuse the error, when 
 they recollect that the shades of the tomb have the effect of 
 diminishing the imperfections, and of enlarging and bright- 
 ening the talents and excellencies of departed friends. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 ....^.mm^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CAVLORO 
 
 
 
 miNTrOINU.S A. 
 
i 
 
 |.::: 
 
 
 .:'-^S •<v'< "^i-^tf 
 
 
 
 
 ^<^<^<^^<^<^<; 
 
 
 l<^<^<^<4<^<^ 
 
 Wi 
 
 ''«'"*<" ''^■'e *-J* A^' 
 
 
 'V'A.-i 'C'<A ■< 
 
 
 
 
 ^>B 
 
 V