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MEMOIR OF 
 
 NORMAN MACLEOD, D.D. 
 
 MINISTER OF BARONY PARISH, GLASGOW ; 
 
 ONE OF HER majesty's CHAPLAINS ; 
 
 DEAN OF THE CHAPEL ROYAL ; 
 
 DEAN OF THE MOST ANCIENT AND MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE THISTLE. 
 
 BV HIS BROTHER THE 
 
 REV. DONALD MACLEOD, B.A. 
 
 ONE OF HER MAJESTY'S CHAPLAINS, EDITOR OF " GOOD WORDS," ETC. 
 
 TWO VOLUMES.— IL 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO 
 
 1876. 
 
"Perish 'policy' and cunning, 
 Perish all that fears the light, 
 "\Miether losing, whether winning, 
 ' Trust in God and do the right.' 
 
 " Some will hate thee, some wiU love thee, 
 
 Some will flatter, some will slight ; 
 
 Cease from man, and look above thee, 
 
 ' Trust in God and do the right.' " 
 
 " So long as I have a good conscience towards God, and have His sun to 
 shine on me, and can hear the bh'ds singing, I can walk across the earth with 
 a joj'ful and fi-ee heart. Let them call me ' broad.' I desire to be broad as 
 the charity of Almighty God, who maketh His sun to shine on the evil and 
 the good : who hatcth no man, and who loveth the poorest Hindoo more than 
 all their committees or all their Churches. But while I long for that breadth 
 of charity, I desire to be narrow — narrow as God's righteousness, which as a 
 sharp sword can separate between eternal right and eternal wrong." — From 
 his last Sijeech. 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. 11. 
 
 CHAP. PACK 
 
 XIII.— 1851— 1856 1 
 
 XIV.— 1857— 1859 57 
 
 XV.— 1860— 61 95 
 
 XVI.— 1862— 63 117 
 
 XVII.— 1864— 65 1,58 
 
 XVIII. SABBATH CONTBOVEESY . . . . . .188 
 
 XIX. SOME CHARACTERISTICS . . . , . .213 
 
 XX. INDIA . , . . . . . . , 242 
 
 XXI.— 1868 281 
 
 XXII. MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE, 1869 70 . . 297 
 
 XXIII.— 1871— 72 335 
 
 XXrV. HIS DEATH 367 
 
 XXV. THE FUNERAL 392 
 
 APPENDIX A 400 
 
 B 402 
 
 C 403 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 1851—1856. 
 
 NOEMAIS" MACLEOD was inducted minister of 
 the Barony parish, GlasgOAY, in July, 1851 ; 
 and on the 11th of August in the same year was 
 married to Catherine Ann Mackintosh, daughter of 
 the late William Mackintosh, Esq., of Geddes, and 
 sister of his dearest friend, John Mackintosh. 
 
 He first lived in Woodlands Terrace, then at the 
 western extremity of the city. The house stood 
 high, and commanded a wide prospect from its upper 
 windows. The valley of the Clyde lay in front, and 
 over the intervening roofs and chimney-stacks his 
 eye rested with delight on the taper masts of ships 
 crowded along the quays. Farther away, and beyond 
 the smoke of the city, rose the range of the Cathkin 
 Hills, and Hurlet Neb, and the 'Braes of Gleniffer,' 
 their slopes flecked by sun and shadow. From the 
 back windows there was a glorious view of the familiar 
 steeps of Campsie Fell. The glow of sunrise or of 
 sunset on these steeps was such a delight to him that 
 often, when he had guests, he made them follow him 
 up-stairs, to share his own enjoyment of the scene. 
 
 The stir and bustle of the commercial capital of 
 
 VOL. II B 
 
2 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Scotland Avcre tlioroiiglily congenial to liim. lie 
 loved Glasgow, and rejoiced in the practical sense, 
 the enterprise, and generosity Avhich characterised its 
 kindly citizens. The very noise of its busy streets 
 was pleasant to his ears. His friends remember 
 how he used to describe himself sitting in his study, 
 in the quiet of the winter morning, and knowing 
 that six o'clock had struck by hearing, far down 
 below him in the Yalley of the Clyde, the thud of a 
 great steam-hammer, to which a thousand hammers, 
 ringing on a thousand anvils, at once replied, telling 
 that the city had awakened to another day of labour. 
 It was his habit to rise very early, and, after giving 
 the first hours to devotion, he wrote or studied till 
 breakfast time. The forenoon was chiefly employed 
 receiving persons calling on business of every con- 
 ceivable description, and the afternoon was occupied 
 with parochial visitation, and other public duties. 
 When it was possible, he reserved an hour during 
 the evening for the enjoyment of music or for 
 reading aloud. Every Saturday he took the only 
 walk of the week which had no object but enjoyment. 
 The first part of this walk usually brought him to 
 John Macleod Campbell's house, which was two miles 
 out of town, and, with him as his companion, it was 
 continued into the country. But in wl-atever direc- 
 tion he went the dav seldom ended without his visitincj 
 the Broomielaw, where, for a while, he would wander 
 with delight among the ships and sailors, criticising 
 ludls and rigging, and looking with boyish wonder 
 at the strange cargoes that were being discharged 
 from the foreign traders. 
 
1851 — 1856. 3 
 
 Yew contrasts can be greater than that presented to 
 the stranger, who, after gazing at the hoary magnifi- 
 cence of Glasgow Cathedral — the very embodiment of 
 the spirit of reverence and worship — looks across the 
 street at the plain square pile of the Barony Church. 
 Yet, any one who knows the work with the recollec- 
 tion of which that unpretending edifice is associated, 
 will be disposed to pardon its ugliness in considera- 
 tion of a certain sacred interest clinging to its walls. 
 "When he was inducted to the Barony, Norman 
 Macleod at once recognised his position as minister, 
 not only of the congregation which worshipped there, 
 but of the enormous parish (embracing at that time 
 87,000 souls, and rapidly increasing) of which this 
 was the Parish Church. There were of course many 
 other churches in the parish ; it contained the usual 
 proportion of dissenting congregations, in addition to 
 some chapels connected with the Church of Scotland. 
 These, nevertheless, were not only inadequate to the 
 requirements of the population, but were unequally 
 distributed, so that many densely- inhabited districts 
 were left unprovided with either Church or School. 
 There were also, at a depth reached by no agency 
 then existing, those ' lapsed classes ' which form 
 in all large cities the mighty problem of Christian 
 philanthropy. 
 
 Every Sunday he preached to crowds that filled 
 every seat and passage ; yet by far the greater pro- 
 portion of those actually connected with his church 
 were not rich. They gave him, however, from the 
 fii'st, such hearty support in the furtherance of all his 
 measures for the good of the parish at large, that, in 
 
 B 2 
 
4 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 spite of its comparative poverty, few, if any, of tlie 
 congregations in the Chureli accomplished so mucli. 
 
 The IJarony afforded a noble field for tlie develop- 
 ment of his convictions as to the duties of the 
 Christian congregation in reference to the manifold 
 wants of society. When he entered on his new charge 
 his mind was full of the subject, and he gave emphatic 
 utterance, both in speeches and in magazine articles, 
 to the views he was about to carry into practical 
 effect : — 
 
 " A Christi.an congregation is a body of Clnnstian? who 
 are associated not merely to receive instruction from a 
 minister, or to unite in public Avorship, but also ' to consider 
 one another, and to provoke to love and good works/ and as 
 a society to do ' good unto all as they have opportunity.' 
 
 "... It is a body. Its members are parts of an 
 organized whole. The Lord's supper is the grand symbol 
 of this unity. Other ends are unquestionably intended to 
 be accomplished by this ordinance, but it is certainly de- 
 signed to express this idea of unity. . . . 
 
 " We are profoundly convinced that, — apart from, or 
 in addition to, the immense power of the Christian life 
 operating in and through individuals, and innumerable 
 separate and isolated channels, — the society of the Chris- 
 tian Church actinsf throu'j^h its distinct orocanizations or 
 congregations, like an army acting through its diftcront 
 reofiments, is the orand social svstem which Christ hns 
 ordained, not only for the conversion of sinners and tlie 
 edification of saints, but also for advancing all that pertains 
 to the well-being of humanity. We hold that the Christian 
 coiiGfrcG^ation, if constructed and worked accordim? to the 
 intention of its designer, contains in itself individually, or 
 in conjunction with other congregations, material, moral, 
 intellectual, active, and social lorccs which, when wisely 
 applied to God's work on earth, are the best and most 
 efficient means for doing it. 
 
 "... But is this possible in a condition of society 
 
1851—1856. 5 
 
 constituted as ours now is ? Is the conception not a fond 
 imagination, or, if attempted to be carried out, would it not 
 lead to such extravagances and fanatical disorders, as from 
 time to time have characterised minor sects which, in 
 seeking to be perfect Churches, have sunk down to be 
 perfect nuisances ? It may be said, only look at the 
 elements you have to work upon ! Look at that farmer, 
 or this shopkeeper. Study that servant, or this master. 
 Enter the houses of those parishioners, from the labourer 
 to the laird. Is there the intelligence, the principle, the 
 common sense — any one element which would combine 
 those members into a body for any high or holy end ? 
 They love one another ! They help to convert the world ! 
 Would it were so — but it is impracticable ! " 
 
 To these difficulties he replied by indicating what, 
 at all events, must be recognised as the will of Christ, 
 in reference to Christian duty ; and then showed how 
 much latent power there is in every congregation which 
 only requires sufficient occasion for its display : — 
 
 " Grace Darling, had she been kno^vn only as a sitter 
 or a pewholder m a congregation, might have been deemed 
 unfit for any work requiring courage or self-sacrifice. But 
 these noble qualities were all the while there. In like 
 manner we have seen among our workinof classes, a man 
 excited by some religious enthusiast or fanatical Mor- 
 monite, who, all at once seemed inspired by new powers, 
 braved the sneers of companions, consented to be dipped 
 in the next river, turned his small stock of knowledge 
 into immediate use, exhorted, warned, proselytised among 
 his neighbours — giving, in short, token of a force lying hid 
 in one who once seemed unfit for anything but to work on 
 week-days and to sleep on Sabbath-days. Does not the 
 Hindu Fakir, who swmgs from a hook fixed in the muscles 
 of his back, and every popish devotee who braves the 
 opinion of society by going with bare feet and in a comical 
 dress, -demonstrate what a man can and will do if you can 
 
6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 only touch the mainspring of his being ? It is thus that 
 there are in every congregation men and Avomen -who have 
 in them great powers of some kind, which have been given 
 them by God, and Avhich, though lying dormant, are capable 
 of being brought out by fitting causes. Kay, every man is 
 enriched with some talent or gift, if we could only discover 
 it, Avhich, if educated and properly directed, is capable of 
 enricliing others." 
 
 The Church demanded the discovery of these gifts, 
 the personal influence of living Christians being the 
 only agency sufficient to meet the evils of society. 
 
 " AVe want Hvinof men ! Not their books or their 
 money only, but themselves. The poor and needy ones 
 who, in this great turmoil of life, have found no helper 
 among their fellows — the wicked and outcast, whose 
 hand is agamst every man's, because they have found, 
 by dire experience of the world's intense selfishness, 
 that every man's hand is against them — the prodigal 
 and broken-hearted children of the human family, who 
 have the bitterest thoughts of God and man, if they have 
 any thoughts at all beyond their bus}^ contrivances how 
 to live and indulge their craving passions — all these by 
 the mesmerism of the heart, and by the light of that great 
 witness, conscience, which God in mercy leaves as a light 
 from heaven in the most abject dwelling of earth, can to 
 some extent read the living epistle of a renewed soul, 
 written in the divine characters of the Holy Spirit ! They 
 can see and feel, as they never did anything else in this 
 world, the love which calmly shines in that eye, telling of 
 inward light, and peace possessed, and of a place of rest 
 found and enjoyed by the weary heart ! Thc}^ can under- 
 stand and appreciate the utter unselfishness — to them a 
 thing hitherto hardly dreamt of — which prompted this 
 visit from a home of comfort and refinement to an un- 
 known abode of squalor or disease, and which expresses 
 itself in those kind words and tender greetings that accom- 
 pany their ministrations." 
 
I85I— 1856. 
 
 But even where there are the desire and the ability 
 > engage in such a work, a 
 required to make them effective. 
 
 to engage in such a work, a wise organization is 
 
 ". . . There is not found in general that wise and autho- 
 ritative congregational or church direction and govern- 
 ment, which could at least suggest, if not assign, fitting 
 work to each member, and a fitting member for each work. 
 Hence little comparatively is accomplished. The most 
 willing church member gazes over a great city, and asks 
 in despair, ' What am / to do here ? ' And what would 
 the bravest soldiers accomplish in the day of battle, if they 
 asked the same question in vain ? What would a thousand 
 of our best workmen do in a large factory, if they entered 
 it with willing hands, yet having no place or work assigned 
 to them ? " ""' 
 
 "... The common idea at present is that the whole 
 function of the Church is to teach and preach the gospel ; 
 while it is left to other organizations, infidel ones they 
 may be, to meet all the other varied wants of our suffering- 
 people. And what is this but virtually to say to them, 
 the Church of Christ has nothing to do as a society with 
 your bodies, only with your souls, and that, too, but in the 
 way of teaching ? Let infidels, then, give you better houses 
 or better clothing, and seek to gratify your tastes and im- 
 prove your social state ; — with all this, and a thousand 
 other things needful for you as men, Ave have nothing to 
 do. What is this, too, but to give these men the impres- 
 sion that Christ gives them truth merely on Sabbath 
 through ministers, but that He has nothing to do with 
 what is given them every day of the week through other 
 channels? Whereas the Christian congregation or society 
 ought not to consider as foreign to itself any one thing 
 which its loving Head Jesus Christ gives to bless and 
 dignify man, and desires man to use and enjoy. We must 
 not separate ourselves from any important interest of our 
 brethren of mankind, calling the one class of blessings 
 
 * Extracted from articles on " What is a Christian Congregation ? " 
 in EdinJmryh Christian Magazine for 1852. 
 
8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 spiritual, and accepting these as the special trust of the 
 Christian Church, and calling another class temporal, and 
 recognising them as a trust for society given to the unhe- 
 lievers. In so doing we give Satan the advantage over us. 
 Let congregations take cognizance of the whole man and 
 his various earthly relationships, let them seek to enrich 
 him with all Christ gave him, let them endeavour to meet 
 all his wants as an active, social, intellectual, sentient, as 
 •well as spiritual being, so that man shall know through the 
 ministrations of the body, the Church, how its hving Head 
 gives them all things richly to enjoy ! Every year seems 
 to me to demand this more and more from the Christian 
 Church. I see no way of meeting Socialism but this. I 
 see no efficient way of meeting Popery but this. Organi- 
 zation is one stronghold of Ilomanism, and self-sacrifice for 
 the sake of the Church is another. Protestantism cannot 
 meet either by dogma merely, it must meet both by orga- 
 nization and government with Christian hberty, and above 
 all by life."* 
 
 These views form the key to the general plan of 
 his work in the Barony. 
 
 After having personally visited the different families 
 under his immediate charge, he commenced to organize 
 nib agencies, mth the determination to make the con- 
 gregation the centre from which he was to work the 
 parish. He first formed a large kirk-session of elders 
 and deacons,t and at once gave the Court, over which 
 
 * Speech delivered at public meeting for Cliurch Eudowment in 
 the City Hall, Glasgow, January, 1852. 
 
 t In the Presbyterian Church the congregation is governed by a 
 court consisting of the clergyman and a certain number of the laity, 
 who are ordained as ' elders.' Norman Macleod was one of the first 
 in the Church of Scotland to revive the office of deacon, whose 
 duties chiefly refer to charitable, financial, and other business arrange- 
 ments. Eldurs and deacons act together in all matters except tboso 
 purely spiritual, worship and discipline. With tht^'^o the elders and 
 minister are alone legally competent to deal. The Kirk-Sessions 
 of the Established Church are recognised 'Courts,' with a legal 
 jurisdiction, and are amenable only to the Presbytery, Synod, and 
 General Assembly. 
 
1851 — 1856. 9 
 
 lie presided officially, direct control over all the 
 ag(3ncies he intended to employ. However numerous 
 might be the various 'workers,' male and female, 
 who took an active part in missionary labour, all 
 of them were under the direction and superintend- 
 ence of the kirk-session. Even the names of those 
 whose children were to be baptized, were regularly 
 submitted to this body. In this manner he not 
 only called forth the talents and energy of indi- 
 viduals, but so organized their work, under the con- 
 stitutional government of the Church, that it went on 
 smoothly and efficiently, even when he was himseK 
 obliged to be absent for a considerable period. He 
 believed that the Presbyterian system, if duly ad- 
 ministered, was admirably fitted for maintaining the 
 union of individual energy with efficiency of govern- 
 ment, and his experience amply confirmed his con- 
 victions. 
 
 One leading feature in his plan of oj)eration was the 
 establishment of district meetings with his people. 
 For this end, the congregation was divided into 
 twelve districts, according to their place of residence, 
 to each of which one or more elders, with a propor- 
 tionate number of deacons, were appointed. He 
 held a meeting once a year in each of these districts, 
 which all the families connected with his congrega- 
 tion, residing within it, were expected to attend. 
 The minister, accompanied by the elders and deacons 
 of the district, had thus an opportunity of meeting 
 old and young in an informal and friendly manner. 
 Kindly greetings were exchanged, explanations made 
 as to congregational Avork, and pastoral advice given 
 
10 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 on practical matters. Tlie communicants in this way 
 not only enjoyed personal intercourse with the office- 
 bearers of the church, but became better acquainted 
 with one another, and felt that the bonds of Christian 
 fellowship were proportionately strengthened. This 
 method of working became peculiarly useful when his 
 increasing public duties made it impossible for him to 
 visit separate households regularly. 
 
 The work of the congregation, ns it was superin- 
 tended by the kirk-session, was — (1) parochial; and 
 (2) non-parochial. 
 
 1. The parochial objects included not only mis- 
 sionary operations dealing directly with the spiritual 
 interests of the people, but also efforts for their 
 educational and social improvement. 
 
 (i.) The educational requirements of his large 
 parish gave him much labour and anxiety. For, 
 although there were several day-schools supported by 
 his Idrk-session, and managed by a committee of their 
 number, who visited them monthly and reported on 
 their condition, yet there were districts where school 
 accommodation had to be provided, and it fell to him 
 to * beg' from his wealthier fellow citizens the greater 
 proportion of the funds required for this purpose. 
 The toil which this imposed was great, and the task 
 irksome. Nevertheless, during the first ten years of 
 his incumbency, school accommodation was in this 
 manner provided for two thousand scholars. He 
 attempted besides, on fixed days of each month, to 
 visit the day and evening schools, and examine, en- 
 courage, and advise the pupils. 
 
 As he came more in contact witli the workinsx classes, 
 
i8si — 1856. II 
 
 ho saw the need of still another educational agency. 
 Evening classes were opened for adults, at which the 
 interesting sj)ectacle was presented of grown-uj) men 
 and women (many of them married) patiently toiling 
 at different standards, from the alphabet upwards. 
 Schools of a similar nature had been attempted before, 
 but had failed from insufficient care being taken in the 
 appointment of teachers. He attributed the success 
 of his schools to the fact that they were under certifi- 
 cated Government teachers. At one of these schools; 
 there were sometimes two hundred and twenty grown- 
 up men and women. 
 
 From seven to twelve Sabbath-schools, with some- 
 times as many as fourteen hundred scholars, were 
 organized into a single society under the care of the 
 session. With these schools the minister kept him- 
 self always well acquainted, and as frequently as 
 possible gave expository lectures to the teachers, on 
 the lessons. He also taught on Sunday, for several 
 winters, a class numbering about one hundred, 
 consisting of the childi-eu of members of his con- 
 gregation. 
 
 (ii.) For the social improvement of the parish he 
 founded the first Congregational Penny Savings' Bank 
 in Glasgow, and established in one of the busiest 
 centres of labour a Eefreshment-room, where working 
 men could get cheap and well-cooked food, and enjoy 
 a comfortable reading-room at their meal-hours, 
 instead of being obliged to have recourse to the 
 public-house. The success which attended these 
 endeavours led to the establishment of similar insti- 
 tutions on a larger scale throughout the city. In the 
 
1 2 LIFE OF NORMA N MA CLEOD. 
 
 later years of his ministry, he also organized various 
 methods of affording amusement and social recreation 
 to the people connected with his missions. 
 
 (iii.) The direct missionary and Church extension 
 work of the parish was continually enlarging, and at 
 the same time changing ground. When he first came 
 to the parish four chapels were without ministers or 
 congregations. These chapels had been retained by 
 the Free Church for several years, and it now fell to 
 him and to his session to assist in procuring ministers 
 for them, and to foster the congregations that were 
 being formed. In other j)laces, where a new popula- 
 tion was rising, churches had to be built. In this 
 way, as a sequel to the work of reorganizing chapels, 
 six new churches were erected in his parish during 
 his ministry, and in respect to most of these he had 
 to bear a large share of the burden of collecting 
 funds. While this work of church extension was 
 going forward, his mission staff for overtaking desti- 
 tute localities increased in ten years from one lay 
 missionary, employed in 1852, to five missionaries 
 (lay and clerical), with three Bible-women and a col- 
 porteur, all of whom were superintended by him and 
 his session. 
 
 There were other parochial agencies, such as the 
 Young- Men's Association, Clothing Society, &c., which 
 need not be particularly noticed. 
 
 2. His extra-jjarochial plans had reference chiefly 
 to the raising of money for the missionary work of the 
 Chiu'ch of Scotland. Here also organization, and the 
 intelligent interest in mission work at home and 
 abroad, created by his continually affording informa- 
 
1851 — 1856. 13 
 
 tion to his people on that subject, bore remarkable 
 fruit. For although, as has been stated, his congre- 
 gation was not rich, yet there was scarcely another in 
 the Church which contributed as much for missions as 
 the Barony did, and he was accustomed to refer with 
 gratification to the fact that the amount, large as it 
 was, was made up chiefly of very small sums. 
 
 In order to maintain congregational life, and to 
 promote a sense of brotherly unity, the kirk-session 
 issued at short intervals Eeports of their proceedings, 
 and a social festival of the congregation was occa- 
 sionally held, at which these reports were read, and 
 kindly and instructive addresses delivered. 
 
 In this manner he carried out his ideas of the 
 Christian congregation as a society united for work. 
 And it was only by such careful organization, and by 
 the development of the latent force of the membership 
 of the Church, that he could have overtaken the 
 labour which was crowded into the twenty years of 
 his incumbency in the Barony. 
 
 The work here described, together with the study 
 requisite for the pulpit — he had always two, fre- 
 quently three services to conduct every Sunday — 
 might well have taxed the energies of any man. Yet, 
 during the years comprised in this chapter, he was 
 able, in addition, to edit The Christian Magazine^ and 
 to contribute many articles to its pages ; to write, 
 under the title of ' The Earnest Student,' a Memoir 
 of his brother-in-law, John Mackintosh; to publish 
 the ^ Home School' and 'Deborah,' and to take an 
 active part in the public and missionary business of the 
 Church. It was no wonder that tlie pressure of such 
 
14 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 labour tried his strength to the utmost, or that in 
 spite of his marvellous iihjsique^ he continually suf- 
 fered from ailments which the world, seeing only his 
 unfailing geniality, could not have suspected. His 
 irrepressible humour and self-forgetfulness concealed 
 from the eyes of strangers the burthen he was often 
 bearing, alike of mental anxiety and of bodily pain. 
 
 From Ms Joubnal : — 
 
 " June 3, 1852. — " What a 3'ear of mercies and of 
 loving providences has this last one of my life been ! I 
 have come to a new parish — having the best living in 
 Scotland (for which I feel deeply grateful !) ; a glorious 
 field of labour. I have married, and have had a dear child 
 born to me. 
 
 " I have as yet done little — I have done nothing, that 
 the great world can ever hear of, or if they did, care for. 
 As far as fame is concerned, I am but one of many 
 millions equally eminent on earth, and equally unlcnown. 
 But I am thinking of what I have done (Jod-ward — of 
 what He knows — of what will last in eternity ; and when 
 I consider what I might have done (therefore ought to 
 have done, and therefore am very guilty in not having 
 done), had I been daily earnest in prayer ; had I been 
 daily diligent and laborious in mastering those details in 
 the Christian character which can alone insure success in 
 the end : had I been watchful of my heart, careful in 
 forming habits, conscientious in using my influence, saving 
 of my time for reading, and improving my mind, and 
 becoming a better scholar and a more learned man ; 
 had I laboured to make every sermon the best possible 
 — what could I have done by the blessing of God on 
 all ! r>ut I have been frittering my time. There has 
 been a want of concentrated effort ; a thousand little 
 things connected Avith everything have scattered my 
 strength. I have been deplorably slothful, and above all 
 
1851 — 1856. 15 
 
 procrastinatinpf. This has been a frightful incuhus upon 
 my life — not doing in the hour the work which should 
 have been done. There is no habit the want of which I 
 have felt more than that of proposing a worthy end, 
 whether of study or some plan of Christian benevolence, 
 and working wisely and doggedly up to it for years. I 
 am too impatient and eager to grasp the end which I 
 vividly realise in my mind, but cannot bear to attain 
 by a long, fagging attention to the dry, prosaic details 
 wdiich, by the wise decree of God, are the essential steps 
 of ascent to the summit. But by the grace of God I shall 
 fight against this evil, and put it down in time to come." 
 
 From his JomiXAL : — 
 
 "Sunday, Sept. 5, 1852. — What I propose for this 
 winter is the following programme : — 
 
 "1. Rise as near six as possible. After devotion, give 
 the mornings of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, to 
 John's Memoir ; of Thursday, to the Magazine ; and 
 Friday, Saturday, wholly to sermons. 
 
 " 2. Keep the house till 1 p.m. ; at 9 A.M. praj^ers ; 
 9 1, breakfast ; 10 to 11, letters ; 11 to 1, when not inter- 
 rupted, the business of the morning continued, or public 
 business, as may be necessary ; from 2 till 5, on IMonday, 
 Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, visiting sick, parish visita- 
 tion, and calls ; 4, Friday and Saturday, to be given 
 entirely to writing sermons ; 5, attend the evening adult 
 class ; 6, as much as possible devote the time after dinner 
 to my family and reading. 
 
 " May God in mercy help me ! I will begin to-morrow. 
 
 " Sej^t. 6. — Rose at 6. This day I begin the memoir 
 of my beloved John. Oh my God and his, guide my pen ! 
 In mercy keep me from writing anything false in fact or 
 sentinient. May strict Truth pervade every sentence ! 
 May I be enabled to show in him the education of the 
 grace of God, so that other scholars in thy school may be 
 quickened and encouraged to be followers of him as he 
 was of Christ ! I feel utterly unworthy to undertake this 
 
i6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 memoir, or of any of even the least of thy saints. But thou 
 Avlio hast given me this work in thy providence, and called 
 me to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ, wilt enable 
 me, I doubt not, to shoAv the riches of Christ as displayed 
 in a j)oor simier, and so to write that thy Church on 
 earth will approve, because it is such as is approved of 
 by Jesus. Hear me. Lord ! 
 
 " Oct. 8th, 6 A.M. — Subjects for prayer — 
 
 " A deeper spiritual insight into the Divine character, — 
 to be able to say, with increasing intelligence, ' Thine eye 
 sceth me.' 
 
 "To be devoted and be ready to give up all at a 
 moment's notice to Jesus ; yea, in heart to resign all. 
 
 " I aclvHowledge that it is morally impossible for me 
 without an omnipotent Saviour to do those things in 
 any degree. Lord, I believe in Thee ! I desire to have 
 Christ's love to His j)eople and the world. Alas ! alas ! 
 what a microscopic shadow of it have I ! 
 
 " Oh my God, make me indeed a father to my people ! 
 Help me to crucify this selfish, slothful, self-indulgent, 
 heart ! Help me constantly to forget self, and to seek, 
 even to death, to do Thy will ; for then only shall I find 
 my truer self ! Oh my God, pity me ! 
 
 "Oct. 11th, 4!^ A.M. — Have been reading a little of 
 * Biainerd.' Next to the Bible, Christian biography is the 
 most profitable. In as far as it is true, it is a revelation of 
 the living God, through His living Cliurch. The expe- 
 rience of the Church is one of the few accumulating 
 privileges of the latter days. It is when I read sc me of 
 the aspirations of Brainerd, that I feel how far awa} I am 
 from that pure and lofty spirituality of mind, which 
 is the very atmosphere of heaven. ' Though my body 
 was wearied with preaching and much private con ersa- 
 tion, yet I wanted to sit up all night and do something 
 for God.' It is this real love to God, — this for^ctfulness of 
 self, this disregard to flesh-indulgence Avlien compared 
 with spirit-indulgence — it is this I so much need. Yet, 
 blessed be God, there is nothing "wc should be but we 
 si Kill be by His grace. ' But, Lord, how long ? ' AVhen ? 
 Ah ! let me cover my face Avitli shame (let me be 
 
1851 — 1856. 17 
 
 ashamed because I am not ashamed more ! ), that I 
 have not laboured, agonised thirty years ago. What 
 might I have been now ! An humble, earnest-minded 
 servant, devoted to Jesus, converting thousands ! May God 
 Almighty enable me to redeem the short time, and to be 
 His wholly and for ever ! 
 
 ''Sunday morning, Oct. 12th, six o'clock. — A lovely, 
 peaceful morning, the atmosphere transparent, the landscape 
 clear and pure, v/ith its white houses, and fields and trees. 
 
 " Grlorious day ! the only day on earth the least like 
 heaven. It is the day of peace which follows the day of 
 battle and victory. ' And all this mighty heart is lying 
 still,' the forge silent, the cotton-mill asleep, the steamers 
 moored, the carts and waggons gone to the warehouse, the 
 shops closed, man and beast enjoying rest and all men 
 invited to seek rest in God ! How solemn the thoudit of 
 the millions who will this day think of God, and j)ray to 
 God, and gaze upon eternal things ; on sea and land, in 
 church and chapel, on sick bed and in crowded congrega- 
 tions ! How many thousands in Great Britain and Ireland 
 will do this ! Clergy praying and preaching to millions. 
 This never was the device of either man or devil. If it 
 was the ' device of the Church,' she is indeed of God. 
 
 " May the Lord anoint me this day with His Spirit ! 
 
 "Saturday 18th. — Some things I see I must correct. 
 (1) I must be careful of pence, as I find I am hideously 
 extravagant with pounds. Lord help me in this thing ! 
 He who gathered up fragments, and who in nature lets 
 nothing be lost, but turns all to some account, will help 
 me. (2) To have a fixed time for devotion at night. 
 * Sin shall not have dominion over you, for ye are not 
 under law, but under grace.' 
 
 " The God of peace sanctify you ivholly, and may 
 your whole spirit, and soul, and body, be preserved 
 blameless unto the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 ' Faithful is He who calleth you, who also will do this ! ' 
 
 " Sunday, Oct. 19th, 7 a.m. — (First day that I am late.) 
 The closer we live with God, and the more our spiritual 
 life in Him is manifested to the world in its results 
 only, the better I think for ourselves. When the inner 
 
 VOL. II. C 
 
1 8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 life is revealed in words, it is apt to end in words, and 
 to become cant. Spiritual pride is thereby nourished, 
 and this is great destruction. Oh my God, enable me to 
 thwart and utterly mortify my cursed vanity and pride, 
 by giving me strength to hide all my good in this sense, 
 not to speak to my nearest of good deeds done, but to do 
 them cheerfully before Thee only, and to have the delight 
 in making others happier and better, pleasing Thee, my 
 Father, for I know Thou art so loving and good as to 
 be pleased with Thy children who by Thy grace are in 
 any degree imbued with Thy goodness! 
 
 " The less self-reflective good is, and the more outward 
 and unconscious it is, the better. 
 
 " Sat., 6 A.M. — People talk of early morning in the 
 country with bleating sheep, singing larks, and purling 
 brooks. I prefer that roar which greets my ear when 
 a thousand hammers, thundering on boilers of steam 
 vessels which are to bridge the Atlantic or Pacific, usher 
 in a new day — the type of a new era. I feel men are 
 awake with me, doing their work, and that the world is 
 rushing on to fulfil its mighty destinies, and that I must 
 do my work, and fulfil my grand and glorious end. 
 
 " Oh ! to see the Church and the world with Clirist's 
 eyes and heart ! 
 
 " I must cultivate the habit of much personal com- 
 munion with God during the day ; speaking in the s})irit 
 to Him as well as (or rather in order to) living in the Spirit. 
 
 "Nov. lijth. — Yesterday mornmg, as usual, rose at 
 5.50. A.M. 
 
 " Had a horrid nightmare — indeed, a series of them. 
 What a sense of the horrible and awful we get in our 
 dreams ! What a sense of desperation — of sore, irresistible, 
 mysterious, soul-subduing suffering ! Immense despair ! 
 Dreams have taught me, more than my waking moments, 
 the capacity of the soul to imagine and endure agony. 
 Oh, what if our worst dreams of solitude, bereavement, 
 desertion, and grapplings with resistless and hellish foes 
 were realities ! What if we were in a fatherless world ! 
 
 " Monday 18th. — How my morning readings in Jonathan 
 Edwards mako me long for a revival ! It would be worth 
 
1851 1856. ig 
 
 a hundred dead general assemblies, if we had any meeting 
 of believing ministers or people — to cry to God for a 
 revival. This, and this alone, is what we want. Death 
 reigns ! God has His witnesses everywhere no doubt — but 
 as a whole we are skin and bone. When I picture to 
 myself a living people, with love in their looks and words, 
 calm, zealous, self-sacrificing, seeking God's glory, and 
 having in Glasgow their citizenship in Heaven ! it might 
 make me labour and die for such a consummation. 
 
 " Strong west wind, grey clouds, and heavy, lurid atmo- 
 sphere ; on the whole a cold and cheerless day. They are 
 at this moment laying Wellington beside Nelson, and 
 finishing an era in British history. All eyes are attracted 
 at this moment in London to one common centre — that 
 centre a person, that person the saviour of his countr}'-. 
 It is he who gives unity to the whole of that immense 
 mass of human beings who now crowd the streets through 
 which the body passes ; and unity to that marvellous re- 
 presentation of all our nationalities in St. Paul's. Signi- 
 ficant symbol of the future, when every eye shall see Him, 
 and when a risen Saviour shall alone occupy the thoughts 
 of an assembled universe ! 
 
 " Tuesday, Nov. Idth.- — 5.45 a.m. Last night I went to 
 Camlachie to receive communicants in connection with 
 that chapel. 
 
 " Material preparations of stipend, beadles, com- 
 mittees, seem at the time mere dead things, but such 
 details are inseparably connected with the great result 
 Even as the boat which conveyed Christ to the country 
 of the Gadarenes was connected with the cure of the 
 Demoniac." 
 
 To his sister Jaj^E : — 
 
 October, 1852. 
 
 " One chief reason of my writing to-day is immense 
 cocJdness at being able to report unswerving doggedness in 
 early rising. I preached yesterday thrice, one of t]ie 
 services six miles out of town, and was up at quarter 
 past five — fresh, joyous, and thankful ! Room dark, 
 curtains drawn, gas lighted, coffee-pot small and neat 
 
 c 2 
 
20 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 (mark all this !), fixed by cunning mechanism over the 
 gas, cup with sugar and cream, all so 'joUy.' Then 
 begins the waking up of the gi-eat city, the thunder- 
 ing of hammers from the boilers of gi'cat Pacific and 
 Atlantic steamers — a music of humanity, of the giant 
 march of civilisation ; far grander to hear at mom than 
 even the singing of larks, which did very well in Isaac 
 "Walton's days, or tlio bleat of sheep, which can yet meet 
 my mother's rustic tendencies." 
 
 From his JomJrAL : — 
 
 ''Dec. llih. — I have spent a weary, weary month. 
 Seldom have I done more, and done less. Oh ! what a 
 den of lions for the soul is the life of an active and ever 
 busy minister ! Mj difficulty is not to work, but to do 
 so in the right spmt. I do not mean that I have been 
 consciously living under the influence of a bad spirit, 
 such as vanity, or pride, but rather that I have been 
 without that calm and happy frame of mind which 
 springs from a sense of God's presence, love, and blessmg. 
 My mind has been wandering without any ballast or 
 guiding power, like a feather before the wind, almost every 
 day since this fearful winter campaign has set in. 
 
 " (1) How insignificant I am as a mere workman ; an 
 insect in the coral island of the world which has been 
 building for 6,000 years. Who was he who helped to 
 build the palace of Nimrod ? or the temple of Baalbec ? or 
 planned Karnac? Fussy, important, of immense conse- 
 quence, no doubt ! As he is, so shall I be — be at 
 peace ! 
 
 " (2) Jesus is governor ! It is His work, and awful is 
 it from age to age, from clime to clime ! It shall go on 
 without me — be at peace ! 
 
 " (3) Why does God give me work at all ? For no end 
 whatever irrespective of my own good. He would thus 
 make me better, and thereby happier, and educate me for 
 my great work in Heaven. He would have me be a fellow 
 worker, having fellowship with Him not only in activity, but 
 ulso in peace and joy. But when I forget Him, or labour 
 apart from Him, or with se})arate interests, I lose all ! 
 
185I 1856. 21 
 
 The work becomes outward, senseless, unmeaning. Lord, 
 give me quiet and peace ! Let me work only true 
 work in Thy Name, and by Thy Spirit, and for Thy 
 glory ! 
 
 "... The thunder and lightning of Sinai had a very 
 different meaning to an Arabian shepherd, who might be 
 gazing on the spectacle from some distant peak, from 
 what they had to Moses and the children of Israel. 
 Material things may have a meaning to angels which 
 they have not to us, and be sacraments of great 
 truths. Who knows but the starry heavens are one great 
 algebra ? 
 
 " I believe thanksgiving a greater mark of holiness 
 than any other part of prayer. I mean special thanks- 
 giving for mercies asked and received. It is a testimony 
 to prayers being remembered, and therefore earnest prayer. 
 It is unselfish, and more loving. 
 
 " What should we think if an angel from heaven 
 appeared to us some morning, and said : ' This day Satan, 
 with all his power, subtlety, and wiles, may try to destroy 
 thee ; and Jesus bids me say He will shut His eyes and 
 ears to thee, and send thee no help ? This day thou hast 
 duties to perform in a right spirit ; Jesus bids me say He 
 will not give thee His Spirit. This day the heaviest trials 
 ever experienced by thee may be thine ; Jesus bids me 
 say He will not afford thee any support. This day thou 
 mayest die ; Jesus bids me say He will not be with thee. 
 Jesus bids thee adieu for this day, and leaves thee alone 
 with thy evil heart, blind mind, powerful enemies ; hell 
 beneath thee, death before thee, judgment above thee, and 
 eternity before thee ! ' Oh, horrible despair ! 
 
 " But why art thou not afraid of this when a day is 
 begun without prayer ? Art thou not practically saying 
 to all this, * Amen ! so let it be ? ' 
 
 " Does God love a cheerful giver ? and is He not one 
 himself ? 
 
 " A godly parent is a god-like parent, i.e. a parent who 
 is God's image in the family — as God to them in life, 
 teaching, love, character. 
 
22 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " A godly home-education is one which trains up the 
 child by the earthly to the heavenly Father. 
 
 " That a parent may be as God to his child, he must 
 first be as a child to his God. To teach, he must be 
 taught ; and receive, that he may give. 
 
 " What the father on earth wishes his child to be 
 towards himself, that God wishes the parent himself to be 
 towards his Father in heaven. Hence children are wit- 
 nesses for God in the parent's heart, as well as the parents 
 are for Him in the hearts of their children. 
 
 " What a compound of vanity, greed, and the selfish- 
 ness which is hate that would end in murder, is that 
 villain Haman ! — mean, sneaking, stuffed with vanity and 
 ambition ! a thorough, contemptible scoundrel, whose 
 hanging was well deserved ! His very terror when 
 condemned is so like the dog — quite like the cowardly 
 rascal that would hang others, and smoke his pipe, or, half- 
 drunk, babble over it with his Jezebel wife." 
 
 From DiAEY Book of 1853 : — 
 
 " Kesolve, as a solemn duty owing to my parish, to 
 refuse, after this date, public meetings in town and 
 country, and all dinners when possible, and to confine 
 myself exclusively to my great parish till at least April, 
 i.e. four months, and not to be moved from this by 
 any arguments, however plausible, but to submit to 
 any amount of displeasure rather than give up a clear 
 duty. 
 
 " Jan. \8t. — " God has been very merciful to me 
 during the past year. I never had so unbroken a year 
 of prosperity, in the usual sense of that word. 
 
 " I have preached about one hundred and forty times, 
 seven of them for public collections, many for chapels. I 
 have addressed about thirteen meetings for missions and 
 other useful objects. Held seven mission meetings in my 
 own church. Published a sermon and edited magazine. 
 Organised (1) Schemes, (2) Industrial aid, (3) Female aid, 
 (4) Endowment (5) Education committees in congregation. 
 
1851 — 1856. 23 
 
 Opened refreshment-rooms for working classes. Opened 
 three chapels with three missionaries. Suggested and helped 
 to carry out a proposal for tAVO new churches, for which 
 £10,000 is now collected. About to build three new 
 schools. Have commenced work in Barnhill Poor House. 
 Visited in twenty-two days about two hundred and twenty- 
 two families. Have organized a congregational class of 
 one hundred and ten from eight to fourteen years of age. 
 Wrote report on Pauper Education.* I need to reform 
 the schemes. Have had two large classes of young men 
 and women for three months. 
 
 " The past year has been marked to me specially by 
 the gift of my child ; and what a gift ! believing as I 
 do that, in answer to prayer, the Lord will in His own 
 way keep her with us in the bundle of life eternal. 
 
 " April 7th. — Fast-day. The kind of frittered life I 
 am compelled (I may say) to lead, dipping like a sea-gull 
 for my food ever and anon, as it is turned up by some 
 wave on the surface, never diving deep, never soaring 
 high, never at rest, injures terribly my moral being. My 
 brain becomes like a bee-hive, so that when I begin to 
 read and pray, my thoughts slide off to chapels or texts, 
 or some scheme or sermon, while I utterly despise myself. 
 I desire this day to be a day of self-examination, of thank- 
 fulness and quickening. 
 
 " It requires omnipotence to make me what I wish to 
 be — simple, unselfish, and zealous, with nothing to keep 
 the fire always burning, and the heart joyous, and the 
 limbs strong, save the love of Jesus Christ." 
 
 • Among his many duties as minister of a parish, lie had to give 
 his attention to the administration of the Poor-law, and shortly after 
 his induction, being shocked at the number of pauper children who 
 were kept in the workhouse at Barnhill, he proposed the complete 
 adoption of the ' boarding out ' system, whereby the young would 
 be brought up in the houses of decent people in the country. This 
 was accordingly done. The following year he wrote a long and elabo- 
 rate paper on the advisability of forming an industrial farm. This 
 paper was printed by order of the Board, but its suggestions were 
 never fully adopted. 
 
24 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 LOJTDON, May, 1853. 
 
 '• What a pious and Christian congregation I must nave 
 had with so many of the aristocracy ! I did not preach 
 any one of the more elaborate sermons I had with me, but 
 one I had never written. But I was convinced it was 
 best suited for the audience. I had great comfort in 
 preaching it, because I felt a sincere dtsire to do good, 
 which is always strength and peace." 
 
 From Lis Journal : — 
 
 "Cove, August 27th, 1853, Sahhafh. — I have taken 
 this Sabbath to myself, the only one for two years, except 
 one in Paris. I need rest, and I am enjoying it. 
 
 " After my delightful congregational meeting in ilay, I 
 went to London, preached missionary sermons for Wes- 
 leyans, spoke at the meetuag of the Tract Society, and for 
 our own missions, and then went with my brother George 
 to Paris. 
 
 "It is awful to feel what a holy man Avith the ordinary 
 measure of practical talent which I possess may do. We 
 seek to be Goliatlis, and are killed by pebbles. Could 
 Ave begin in faith and be as httle children, we should slay 
 GoHaths ! my God, make me a good man ! my 
 Father, come what may, make me a simple-minded, honest, 
 humble and brave Christian ! Let me seek no favour but 
 Thine, and give my heart to no labour but in Thee and for 
 Thee ! With God my Saviour as my help and guide I 
 may, ere I die, be a blessing to Glasgow, especially to the 
 poor and miserable in it, for whom my heart bleeds. 
 
 " A lovely Sabbath-day, with calm seas, purple hills, 
 murmuring waves, devout repose ! When shall my 
 brothers and sisters in the lanes and closes find such a 
 Sabbath of peace and beauty in God ! 
 
 "Sept. \Sth. — Have had spiritually a good week, but 
 physically one too much oppressed by labour. I have 
 steadfastly kept my hours. My reading has been Baxter's 
 ' Reformed Pastor' (very touching), and Mill's ' PoUtical 
 Economy.' " 
 
1851 — i8s6. 25 
 
 The following letter was written to a liidy whose 
 son had been boarded with him in Dalkeith, and who 
 was at this time a midshipman in the navy. The 
 allusion to his method of training boys refers to the 
 principle he acted on of franJily telling them of the 
 temptations they would be exposed to in life — 
 ' better,' he used to say, ' they should hear all about 
 it from me than from the devil ; ' — and he was over- 
 joyed by now receiving a letter which showed he had 
 acted wisely. 
 
 " I send without hesitation his letter to myself. I 
 cannot express to you how gratified and thankful it has 
 made me. In so teaching him, I followed my own con- 
 victions, and carried out a theory of education which I 
 had long held, founded chiefly upon God's teaching in the 
 Bible — in the Pentateuch specially, which in all its details 
 of crime, and awful warnings, was to be read each year to 
 the young as well as to the old. The evidence afforded by 
 his letter of the success in his case of such a mode of 
 instruction is most encouraging." 
 
 To Mrs. Dennistoun : — 
 
 " Did no shadows, or shades, or shades of shadows, such 
 as seldom dim your fair spirit, pass over it, cast from the 
 actual substance of my carelessness in not writing to you ? 
 My dog Skye, often and long the sole companion of my 
 study, alone knows the sorrowings and repentings I have 
 had anent unanswered letters ! He has heard my 
 groans, witnessed my tossings, and listened with dread 
 to the stampings of my foot ! until, with his quiet eye 
 and loving wag from that eloquent and soothing tail, 
 he has quieted me into better humour with myself. At 
 present having no Skye, but only my wife and child, I 
 am out of humour and ashamed of myseK, and have lost 
 self-respect." 
 
 " Oct. Srd. — How shall I express my gratitude to God ? 
 
26 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 This afternoon my boy was born. I have felt crushed by 
 the weight of God's mercy. To live in anotlier being, and 
 in the highest form of the human creation, is a great filling- 
 up of the soul's cravings. What an object of love ! The 
 moment I heard of his birth I solemnly dedicated him to 
 the Lord, and so did we both in prayer when we first met. 
 We cannot wish him to be anything grander in the 
 universe of God than a Christian. This we seek first, 
 and for this we shall labour and pray. Whatever else 
 may befall him, this we seek as tiie one thing needful 
 for him, whether that is to be attained by sickness or 
 health, by poverty or Avealth. I pray that Avhatever 
 else hajipens, should God so will that the whole family 
 are to reach the shore on floating pieces of the wreck of 
 a broken house, yet let us all meet there, and be for ever 
 with the Lord ! 
 
 " Into Thy hands, our God, we resign our children, and 
 dedicate them to God the Father, through Jesus the Son, 
 and in the Holy Ghost the Sauctifier, one God, our God, 
 and our fathers' God. Amen ! " 
 
 The Education question was at this time exciting 
 keen discussion in Scotland, and when the proposed 
 measure of Lord Moncrieff was before Parliament, its 
 merits were debated by the Presbytery of Glasgow. 
 Norman Macleod was one of the speakers ; and, while 
 he defended the parish schools, and could see no 
 practical benefit likely to accrue to the nation by 
 the severance of the link which united them to the 
 Church, he argued strongly in favour of the Church 
 herself attempting to find a basis on which the 
 three great Presbyterian bodies in the country might 
 co-operate for the fui'therance of education. He 
 wished the privileges of an Establishment to bo 
 recognised — 
 
1851 — 1856. 27 
 
 " . . . . as a holy trust to be used for tlie good 
 of the country at large, and of value solely as employed 
 for this the true end of her existence in the State. So 
 far from grudging to share with other bodies our 
 peculiar advantages, I would hold it as a first truth, and 
 entering into the essential idea of Christianity, that our 
 personal and social blessings are given us not for 
 selfish enjoyment, but to be shared as far as possible with 
 others." 
 
 Under whatever form of management the public 
 schools might be placed, he earnestly desired a higher 
 and more practical system of instruction. 
 
 " We want, for instance, a higher class of industrial 
 schools, in our large towns especially, for our females, 
 where, in addition to the ordinary branches of learning, 
 they must also receive instruction in shaping and making 
 clothes, in washing and dressing them, and in cooking too, 
 so as to fit them to become cleanly, thoroughly intelligent 
 wives, and in every respect helps-meet for an artisan, 
 who could make his home more attractive to him 
 than the whisky-shop, and be themselves more com- 
 panionable than its frequenters. We require a wider 
 education for our artisans themselves, so as to train them 
 up to such fixed ideas and habits as may fit them to meet 
 the actual temptations to which they are exposed, to 
 perform their duties as workmen, parents, citizens ; and 
 so as to enlarge, also, the field of their enjoyment as 
 human beings possessed of various tastes which are capa- 
 ble of beincf cultivated, and made the sources of refined 
 pleasure. To accomplish all this, I think we require a 
 higher style of teacher, imbued with lofty ideas of his 
 hiffh callinor, as the man who contributes so much to 
 mould the character of the nation and to give a com- 
 plexion to coming generations — a man, in short, with 
 somewhat of the sj)irit of Arnold. I do think that a careful 
 training of our people — to enable them to discharge their 
 individual duties, such as steady labour, preservation of 
 
28 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 health, sohricty, kindness, prudence, chastity ; their 
 domestic duties as parents ; their duties as members of 
 society, in courteous and truthful dealings, fulfilment of 
 engagements, obedience combined with independence as 
 workmen ; their duties towards the State, whether with 
 reference to their rulers or the administrators of law, along 
 with information on the history and government of their 
 country, and such like — that upon such points as the.-j 
 their training has been greatly neglected, and requires to 
 be extensively improved, and based upon and saturated 
 with Christian principle. I think we owe something to 
 the Secularists in directing our attention to details in the 
 education required for common life ; while they ought to be 
 grateful to us for imbuing the mind with the only power 
 which will enable men to apply their knowledge to 
 practice." 
 
 From his Jo urn ax : — 
 
 '' Ajiril 23rcZ, 1854, — I have been very busy with the 
 memoir. The want of incident is my difficulty. I must 
 always remember those reading it who never heard of his 
 name. I have always felt an assurance that Jesus loved 
 John too well to permit me to misinterpret that character, 
 which had been proved by His own Spirit, and which was 
 given me in providence to show to the world. 
 
 "May 1th. — I go to-morrow to London, to preach for the 
 London Missionary Society, thankful in being honoured 
 thus to help on the world's work of advancing Christ's 
 kingdom. Whatever comes, I feel assured all will be 
 well."* 
 
 lie attended the General Assembly of 18o4, and 
 took a prominent part in nearly all the debates. In 
 this Assembly — and this may be said of all those of 
 
 • Ilis sermon on this occasion mado a profound impression, and the 
 Directors not only expressed their thanks, but repeatedly urged hiui 
 to publish it. This, however, he declined to do. 
 
1851 — 1856. 29 
 
 which he was in after years a member — his addresses 
 on the Missionary Eeports gave a character of their 
 own to the whole proceedings. The House was filled 
 to overflowing when he was expected to speak ; and 
 his appeals, burning with courage, and zeal, and hope- 
 fulness, not only imparted new life to the Assembly, 
 but increased the influence of the Church in the 
 country. 
 
 In the Assembly of 1854 he first took a decided 
 stand against the party which had ruled the policy 
 of the Church for several years, and which had served 
 in no small measure to alienate from her the sym- 
 pathy of the nation by the persistency with which it 
 opposed every public measure, however reasonable, 
 that seemed to threaten any of her ancient prero- 
 gatives. The recent repeal of the Tests which had 
 hitherto been imposed on the professors of the Scotch 
 Universities — who, on admission to ofiice, were re- 
 quired to sign the Confession of Faith, and sub- 
 scribe the formula of the Church of Scotland — was 
 now hotly discussed in the Assembly. The wiser 
 leaders, while regretting the sweeping nature of the 
 change, were prepared 'to accept the inevitable,' 
 and made a stand against the section of extreme 
 Conservatives, who not only wished to protest anew, 
 but even proposed to form a new University in con- 
 nection with the Church. Norman Macleod had too 
 much common sense not to perceive the folly of 
 resisting changes which the altered condition of the 
 country rendered necessary, and gave expression to 
 his views in a manner which startled both sides 
 of the House, and which rang through the country 
 
30 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 as the token of an unexpectedly liberal spiiit rising 
 in the Church. 
 
 " A great deal had been said about expediency, about 
 the tremendous danger of vacillation, and the immense 
 importance of what Avas called standing by their prin- 
 ciples. It appeared to him that one of the greatest 
 mistalvcs made by the Church of Scotland was constantly 
 elevating things which were out-and-out matters of expe- 
 diency, and maintaining that th3y were eternal principles. 
 There were certain things that could never change. The 
 eternal truth revealed by the living God Avas, from genera- 
 tion to generation, without change. But there were things 
 that were flexible, and ought to be so ; and the great 
 error of the Church of Scotland had ever been the 
 assuming of an attitude Avliich Avas said to be one of 
 principle, and injury after injury had been done to the 
 Church, not because she Avould not sacrifice her principles, 
 but because she Avould not modify her institutions to suit 
 the times. Instead of doing this, she had resisted every 
 channre, and this had been the source of almost all the 
 misfortunes Avhich had ever befallen her. For one evil 
 that could be pointed out arising from a Avise and judicious 
 yielding to the times, he Avould point out scores of instances, 
 doAvn to 1843, from Avhich she had suffered from stub- 
 bornly standing on pin-points called principles. 
 
 " .... It was proposed to go to the country for 
 money to build a new College. He objected to that out- 
 and-out. He objected to the national Churcli throAving 
 herself loose from the national Universities, and sinking 
 doAvn to the position of a mere sect, and handing over the 
 Universities to other parties. He Avamed them that if 
 there issued from this House ojiinions Avhich obtained no 
 sympathy in the country, instead of gaining a hold on the 
 atfcctions of the people, they Avould come to have no more 
 influence on the nation than the weather-cock on the top 
 of the steeple affected the people passing in the street. 
 Let them try to educate the country u}) to tluMr |)rinciples 
 before they proposed to them things in Avhich the country 
 bad no sympathy. 
 
1851 — 1856. 31 
 
 " .... He thought it only fair to say that he 
 did not know of a single measure that had been passed by 
 the Legislature which he would wish to see reversed — 
 neither the Emancipation Bill, nor the Reform Bill, nor 
 the Corn-law Bill, nor the University Tests Bill, nor any 
 other Bill. 
 
 " He was one of those, moreover, who believed that the 
 Legislature had a perfect right to modify such institutions 
 as the Universities to meet the wants of the acce. He 
 was one of those who believed it was a fair and a rio-ht 
 thing that men who did not belong to the Church of 
 Scotland, but who, like her, held Protestant principles, 
 should be permitted to teach in these lay chairs. He 
 therefore wanted a Test, certainly, and so far he differed 
 from the late Act ; but he did not want such a Test as 
 was desired by his fathers and brethren who formed the 
 majority of the Church ; nay, perhaps he ought to confess 
 that he was so very heterodox, that he should not have 
 started, or thought the world was coming to an end, even 
 if it had been proposed to place a Jesuit in a Medical 
 Chair, and on this simple ground, that if his limb were to 
 be operated on, he should jorefer a skilful Jesuit to an 
 unskilful Protestant. He would rather have a man to do 
 it well who sympathised with the Council of Trent, than a 
 man to do it ill who believed in the Westminster Confes- 
 sion ; and he rather thought the great majority of the 
 House would, in such a situation, act on the same prin- 
 ciples. He saw no reason why such men should not teach 
 others to do well what they did so well themselves. But 
 at the same time, he did desire that there should be a 
 Test of some kind, and was very far from speaking lightly 
 of the differences which separated them from Rome." 
 
 To the Eev. TnoMAS Goedon, Newbattle : — 
 
 Woodlands Terrace. 
 "... Act of security ! It might as well secure horse- 
 power versus steam to all generations as secure anything 
 which cannot be secured on its own footing — i.e., because 
 it is worth securing. The only acts which have any 
 security for resisting modem changes are the Acts of 
 
32 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 the Apostles — and tlicy will defy either Strauss or 
 Wiseman." 
 
 To Eov. A. Clerk, LL.D. : — 
 
 June, 1854. 
 
 "The General Assembly was a Dead Sea of common- 
 places — flat, stale, and unprofitable. Not one flash of 
 any idea or sentiment to rouse a noble passion in the soul. 
 The Tests were of course carried by a large majority. I 
 think the church is a poor affixir at present, but has got a 
 calling for the good of this land and of Christendom, which 
 she alone can execute if she would ! " 
 
 To his Mother, on liis birtliclay : — 
 
 June^ 1854. 
 
 " Well, dear, it was a noble Assembl3^ and God enabled 
 me to do what I have every reason to believe was a 
 needful and good work in it. I sought His aid, and He 
 gave it to me. I w^as greatly solemnised, I assure you. 
 The reports give you a poor idea of what I said. Each 
 speech was about forty minutes, and nothing could exceed 
 the cordial manner in which it Avas received. 
 
 " Forty-three years since, I lay on your knee, the object 
 of a love that, as I have often said, is liker the love of God 
 than any other, and which, in your case, dearest, has been 
 as deep, constant, and unwearied as ever existed in any 
 human bosom. I am not one of those who sigh for the 
 past and fear the future. My motto is not ' backwards,' 
 but ' forwards,' — on and on, for ever ! I wish no year 
 recalled, unless I had more grace wdth it to make it better 
 and to improve it more for God's glory. 
 
 " * One generation comcth, and another goeth.' But I 
 cannot wish more for my boy on earth than that he should 
 at forty-three have parents spared to him to be such a 
 source of happiness to him as mine are to me. God 
 bless you both for all you have been and are." 
 
 From his JouuNAL : — 
 
 ''June, 3. — ^I this day enter my forty-third year. 1 
 feel how much of my life is passed, and slowly but surely 
 
1851 — 1856. 33 
 
 the force tliat is in me to do Christ's work will beofin to 
 decline. 
 
 " Oh, my God, I have not hid my daily shortcomings from 
 Thee. Thou hast forgiven me in Christ. My Father, never 
 let me be without the indwelling of Thy Spirit for an hour, 
 for it would be an hour of dreadful horror. Let my life 
 be every day more unconscious of my own presence and 
 more conscious of Thine. Make me an mstrument in 
 Thy hands for advancing Thy kingdom, reviving the 
 Church of Scotland, and for uniting all Christians in this 
 land. 
 
 " One man, Lord, lifts up his voice and praises Thee 
 that he has been born, because he knows Thee and Jesus 
 Christ Whom Thou hast sent, and knows that, while no 
 man on earth deserves it, this is eternal life ! 
 
 "July 23, 1854. — With the exception of the preface, 
 the Life is finished and printed. Glory to God ! 
 
 When I went to see John, I put the question, ' What 
 shall be the end thereof ? ' How much has been seen of 
 the end already ! 
 
 " It was a stransfe feeling, to end a work which had 
 given me his companionship for so long a time. It seemed 
 like a second death ! 
 
 " Thank God I have been enabled to write a biography 
 without one word of untruth or exaggeration in it, as far 
 as I know. It may not say enough, or go far enough, but 
 all it says is true ; as far as it goes, it is true. 
 
 " Does my dear friend know this is done ? I believe 
 he does, and that as far as it is true, and tends to glorify 
 his Master in whose presence he is, and who is his all in 
 aU, so far he rejoices in it, so I add to his joy. What a 
 delightful thought ! For surely if he knows that his life 
 has not been so unfinished as it seemed to have been, that 
 he is by these memorials enabled to advance that Idngdom 
 much more than he could have done had he been spared 
 to labour as a minister, surely this will fill him with 
 deeper love to Jesus, and a profounder admiration of His 
 love and wisdom, and so increase his oavq joy. 
 
 " What an infant in spiritual growth am I to him ! 
 But let his bright and beautiful example not cast me 
 
 VOL. II. D 
 
34 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 down, but lift me up and stimulate me to labour more for 
 Christ, and not to be slothful, but through fi^^uth and 
 patience to follow him, even as he followed his Lord. 
 
 " . . . . How strange that as 3'et my child knoAvs not 
 God ! I have resolved that she shall not hear His name till 
 she has langiuige to apprehend what I mean, and that no one 
 shall speak of God to her till I do so. This is a moment 
 in her life which I claim as my own. I shall have the 
 blessedness of first telling her of Him who I trust (Oh, my 
 Father, for Christ's sake let it be — oh, let it !) shall be 
 her all in all for ever after. For a time I must be to 
 her as God : His shadow. His representative and her father 
 on earth shall lead her to Thee, her Father and mine. 
 
 "Another system than this I know is generally pur- 
 sued, and much is thought to be gained by cramming a 
 child with holy words before it can hardly lisp them. I 
 
 heard last week of 's boy saying to some one, ' I 
 
 don't like God, for He sends rain.' This was quite natural, 
 but what is gained by such instruction ? " 
 
 To the late Mrs. Macredie, Adamton : — 
 
 "My dear Madam, — 
 
 " I make it a rule never to pen a letter except 
 upon great occasions, or to remarkable persons. The last 
 I wrote was on the great occasion of a Free Church 
 minister bowing to an Erastian ; and one also to my wife, 
 when she did implicitly what I commanded her. 
 
 " 1 take up my pen once more. I need not say the 
 dignity of the person to whom I Avrite is a sufficient proof 
 that I do not break through my rule. But the occasion 
 is still more remarkable. What is it ? "What has 
 happened in the political, literary, or religious world ? Is 
 Sebastopol taken ? or is the Irish Society defunct ? Has 
 
 the Pojie asked Miss in marriage ? Is the Czar to 
 
 be the Commissioner of next Assembly ? Is Omer Pasha 
 to be member for Ayrsliire ? Any or all of those suppo- 
 sitions would be nothing to the news I have to tell you. 
 1 assure you, nothing ! Now, I would tell you at once, 
 but I don't want to give you a shock ; for I was told to 
 
1851 — i8s6. 35 
 
 be cautious, and not to alarm you, but to break the in- 
 telligence quietly to you, and to take you, as it were, 
 round the neck and breathe the thing in your ear. Be- 
 sides, when one is happy — Oh ! you see it, do you ? 
 ' Another son ? ' My dear lady, you shock me ! What I 
 wish to say to you is this — for I am sorry that I am in a 
 hurry, and cannot possibly write so fully as I would wish, 
 and therefore must be much more abrupt than is proper 
 for one in your delicate health (though I find that such 
 persons always live to an immense age) and so I must just 
 tell you at once that — hush now, quietly, and don't get 
 agitated. Believe me, you will survive it — softly, and 
 slowly. 
 
 " Your ■ daughter, Mrs. Dennistoun, remains with us 
 from Friday till Monday, and I promised to write to you. 
 That's all." 
 
 To Thomas Constable, Esq. : — 
 
 July I8ih, 1854. 
 
 " I have always addressed you more as the friend of 
 John Mackintosh than as the publisher of the memorials 
 of his life. As such you will be glad to receive the con- 
 clusion of the last chapter, which I send by this post. 
 
 " I have been writing these latter images since early 
 dawn ; and deeply affecting though they be, I cannot 
 think they will cost my readers as many tears as they have 
 cost me while penning them. I feel concluding this 
 book as a positive loss to myself. It is like a second 
 death and burial. It was never a weariness, but a delight 
 to me. I fear that I have failed to convey but a very 
 feeble impression of those days at Cannstadt. I wish it 
 had been possible for me to have said less, and to have 
 permitted him to say more ; yet I cannot think any one 
 will fail to discover in all I have written the details of a 
 true story of one of the truest men that ever blessed the 
 earth by his presence. For mj^self, I return my most 
 hearty thanks to Almighty God for having honoured me 
 so far as to have permitted these hands of mine to erect 
 this memorial of my beloved friend for the good of the 
 
 D 2 
 
36 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Church and of tlie Avorld. ^[any will think the work a 
 small one in this world of many works and great teachers, 
 but had I done nothing more than accomplish this one 
 alone, I should feel that I had not been born in vain, and 
 that it was worth living for. It has been begim, carried 
 on, and ended in prayer ; and with the sincere desire, 
 above all others, that in liim his Lord may be glorified. 
 
 " You know that I refuse all fee and reward for this 
 book, in the shape of money. Love is its own reward, 
 but I hope to receive an immense return for my little 
 labour in hearing from time to time that the character of 
 my dear friend is being better kno^vn and loved, and his 
 example followed by many to the glory of God." 
 
 From his Jotjiiin"AL : — 
 
 " September. — I visited Geddes last month, and I feel 
 that I have got a ickiff of the same land of air John 
 breathed there. How strange ! Kate and I both opened 
 the first copy of the ]\Iemoir there ! and that on the day 
 after the anniversary of our marriage. We saw, too, old 
 Saunders Rose,' still alive and well and holy ; and I held 
 a prayer-meeting in the old place where John used to hold 
 his, at Burnside. 
 
 " It was altogether delightful. And then Loch Shiel, 
 John Shairp and his wife, and the Communion at Kilmallie 
 together ! The Lord be praised ! " 
 
 When he imdortook the congenial task of writinpj 
 the life of his dear friend, he determined that it should 
 be wholly a labour of love, and with the hearty consent 
 of his mother-in-law, Mrs. Mackintosh, he resolved to 
 devote whatever profit might accrue from the sale of 
 the Memoir to the Foreign mission of the Free Chiu'ch. 
 Mackintosh had been a Free Church student, and the 
 book was virtually his, and thus not only under a 
 sense of the propriety of the act, but delighted 
 
1851 — 1856. 37 
 
 at the opportunity of giving expression to those 
 feelings of good-will which he entertained for the 
 missionary labour of all Churches, and especially of 
 that Church which, in spite of recent controversies 
 and separations, was yet nearest his own in doctrine 
 and government, he forwarded with sincere pleasure 
 .£200 to her Indian Missions. The Free Church 
 Assembly took the earliest opportunity of recording 
 its thanks, which were embodied in the following 
 minute : — 
 
 "In acknowledging receipt from the biographer and 
 representatives of the late John Mackintosh of £200 — 
 the entire profit derived from the sale of his Memoir — the 
 Assembly desires to record its deep and grateful sense of 
 the faithful and graceful manner in which the Memoir has 
 been written, of the loss which this Church has sustained 
 in his premature removal, and of the considerate regard 
 to his memory which has prompted this generous dona- 
 tion, and they instruct their Convener to communicate 
 the same to Mrs. Mackintosh and the Rev. Norman 
 Macleod."* 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 KlRKALDT, Oct. 2, 1854. 
 
 " Kiss my boy for me on his birth-day, and pray with 
 me for him, that whatever else he is he may be a child of 
 God. 
 
 " Please — for there is a domestic propriety which is a 
 gentile court to religion — have my father or George, or both, 
 
 * In forwarding this extract of minutes, the Convener, the late 
 Dr. Tweedie, kindly expressed his own sense of the catholicity of 
 spirit which had dictated the act: — "It supplies in some measure a 
 presage of what will take place when external barriers shall be 
 removed, and when all who love the Lord Jesus shall be verily one in 
 spirit and in truth." 
 
38 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, 
 
 to dinner, and drink my boy's health in a good bottle of 
 champagne, with all the honours. 
 
 " Glorious news this of Sebastopol ! A great opening 
 for the gospel." 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 Ceathie, Od., 1854. 
 
 " This has been a heavenly day of beauty — the sky 
 almost cloudless ; the stones on the hill side so distinct 
 that they might be counted ; the Dee swinging past with 
 its deep-toned murmur. 
 
 " I preached without a note the same sermon I preached 
 at Morven ; * and I never looked once at the royal seat, but 
 solely at the congregation. I tried to forget the great ones 
 I saw, and to remember the great Ones I saw not, and so I 
 preached from my heart, and with as much freedom, really, 
 as at a mission station. 
 
 " And so the day has ended, for the present. The Lord 
 brought me here. He has heard my prayer, and sustained 
 my heart, and enabled me to do His will. And now I 
 pray that this talent, given me in love, may be for His 
 glory. 
 
 " Kiss the bairns, thank God for me, and in after 
 years teach your boy this lesson — not to seek his work, 
 
 * It is interesting to compare witli this the touching notice of the 
 service recorded by Her Majesty : — 
 
 Odoher 29, 1854. 
 ""Wo went to kirk as usual at twelve o'clock. The service was 
 performed by the Ecv. Norman M'Lood, of Glasgow, son of Dr. 
 M'Leod, and anything finer I never heard. The sermon, entirely 
 extempore, was quite admirable, so simple, and j'et so eloquent, and 
 so beautifully argued and put. Wx. M'Leod showed iia the sermon 
 how we all tried to please se}f, and live for that, and in so doing found 
 no rest. Christ had come not only to die for us, but to show how we 
 were to live. The second prayer was very touching ; his allusions 
 to us were so simple, saying, after his mention of lis, ' bless their 
 children,' It gave me a lump in my throat, as also when he prayed 
 for ' the dying, the wounded, the widow, and the orphans.' Every 
 one came back delighted ; and how satisfactory it is to come back 
 from church with such feelings ! The servants and the Highlanders 
 — all — wore equally delighted." 
 
1851 — '856. 39 
 
 but to receive it when given him, and to do it to God 
 without fear." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 " Retrospect. — I had received an invitation to preach 
 at Crathie when I was at Kirkakly. I refused to go. I 
 had announced the opening of my church, after it had 
 been closed for two months to be repaired, and it seemed 
 to me that my duty to open it was greater than to accept 
 of Mr. Anderson's invitation to preach before the Queen. 
 The going there, therefore, was not sought for by me. I 
 returned home at eight Thursday night, and found a letter 
 from Mr. A., stating that he asked me at the Queen's own 
 request. My duty being clear, I accepted it. The weather 
 was superb, and I was much struck Avith the style of the 
 scenery. I have never seen Ross-shire, but I see a marked 
 difference between the Highlands of Morayshire and Aber- 
 deenshire and the West Highlands, especially in the glens, 
 and the large, full-flowing rivers, such as the Spey, the Find- 
 horn, and the Dee, which sweep so majestically through 
 them, with abundance of elboAv room, and not cramped by 
 slate and granite into raging, roaring streams. And then the 
 decided marks of culture in the valleys — the broad planta- 
 tions, the green fields, and the stately homes of a wealthy 
 aristocracy, and — that I do not forget it, — the colouring 
 of the floors of the woods ! No long, damp grass, but 
 the glorious mosses, rich and golden, illumined by the 
 fiery heather bell. 
 
 " The Sunday at Balmoral was perfect in its peace and 
 beauty, I confess that I was much puzzled what to 
 preach. I had with me some of my best sermons (as 
 people would call them) ; but the struggle which had be- 
 gun on Friday morning was renewed — as to what was best 
 m the truest, most spiritual sense for such an occasion ; 
 until, by prayer, I resolved to preach without any notes a 
 sermon I never wrote fully out, but had preached very 
 orten, perhaps fifteen times, solely because I found that it 
 had found human sphits, and had done good. It was from 
 Matt. xi. 28-30, Mark x. 17-31. I tried to show what 
 true Hfe is — life in the spirit — a finding rest through the 
 
40 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 yoke of God's service, instead of the service of self, and 
 by the cross of self-denial, instead of self-gratification, 
 illustrated by the young man who, Avith all that was so 
 promising, would not peril his happmess by seeking it with 
 Christ in God. 
 
 " I preached with intense comfort, and by God's help 
 felt how sublime a thing it was to be His ambassador. I 
 felt very acutely how for our sakes the Queen and the 
 Prince were placed in so trying a position, and was pro- 
 foundly grateful for the way in which they had governed 
 us; and so it was that I was able to look back from the 
 future, and to speak as I shall wish I had done. It would 
 be most ungrateful in me not to record this singular mercy 
 of God to me ; for I do know, and rejoice to record for the 
 strengthening of my faith in prayer, that He did it. 
 Thus I enjoyed great peace. 
 
 " In the evening, after daundering in a green field with 
 a path through it which led to the high road, and while 
 sitting on a block of granite, full of quiet thoughts, 
 mentally reposing in the midst of the beautiful scenery, I 
 was roused from my reverie by some one asking me if I 
 was the clergyman wlio had preached that day. I was soon 
 in the presence of the Queen and Prince ; when her 
 Majesty came forward and said with a sweet, kind, and 
 smiling face, ' We wish to thank you for your sermon.' 
 She then asked me how my father* was — v.'hat was the 
 name of my parish, &c. ; and so, after bowing and smiling, 
 they both continued their quiet evening Avalk alone. And 
 thus God blessed me, and I thanked His name. I posted 
 home by Glenshee — not well — and was in bed all the 
 week. So ends my story, I read its commencement and 
 ending to remind me how God is always faithful. ' ye 
 of little faith, wherefore did ye doubt ? ' " 
 
 To tho Eev. Mr. Watson, Chaplain in the Crimea : — 
 
 *' God bless and prosper you in your work. I almost 
 envy you, dangerous though it be. I have such immense 
 
 * Ilis father had proachotl boforo Ilor M.ijosty and tlio Priiico 
 Consort at Blair Athol ou the occasion of their iirat visit to Scotland. 
 
1851 — 1856. 41 
 
 admiration of tliose glorious fellows that I would, rejoice 
 to be witli them. It is right and becoming, too, that 
 those who are soldiers only of Christ should share their 
 danger, so as to help them to share with us the life Avhich 
 is eternal. We should not shrink at such a time, if God 
 calls us to this work. No doubt you have made up your 
 mind to die, and this is the true way of being brave and of 
 finding perfect peace." 
 
 From his JouR^srAL : — 
 
 " January 1, 1855, 7 A.M. — In the name of God the 
 Father, Son, and Spirit, my God, I begin the year ! I 
 am Thine by creation and redemption, and by choice on 
 my part ; I am Thine for ever, and I desire to consecrate 
 every power and faculty of body eaid soul to Thy service 
 — knowing Thee, the ever-blessed One, Whose service is 
 unutterable joy. To know Thee truly in any degree is 
 joy unspeakable, and full of glory. Amen ! 
 
 "The year '55 promises to be a very solemn one. 
 What battles and victories, defeats and suiferings ! What 
 brave and illustrious men, afterwards to be the Nelsons 
 and Wellingtons of Britain, or the Napoleons of France — 
 are now in embryo ! That civilisation, liberty, religion, 
 peace will triumph, is of course as certain as that Jesus 
 Christ reigns ! He does reign — what a source of joy ! 
 
 " I have established a mission to the hospital at Scutari, 
 and am acting as secretary to it. 
 
 " Jan. 1 2th. — Nothing can exceed the j)resent com- 
 plexity of the politics of the world. This war is drawing 
 all nations slowly into it like a huge maelstrom ; and on 
 what side, or with what damage, they are to be hurled out 
 of the maelstrom, the Lord knoweth ! America sympa- 
 thises with Russia, solely because Russia opens up pros- 
 pects of trade directly and indirectly, and is the enemy 
 of her British rival— for the Yankees have concentrated 
 all greatness in the dollar. Rome is against Russia on 
 Church grounds, and Britain is now fighting Rome's cause 
 with France and Austria. Prussia holds back. Sardinia, 
 becoming Protestant, comes forward. Turkey, tottering to 
 
42 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 her fall, from the inherent wealoiess of her false religious 
 life, is in vain propped up by the allies, though this will 
 make her fall only the more conspicuous, and show God's 
 judgment on a lie. 
 
 " Peace ! It seems to me as if the world was but 
 mustering its forces for such a campaign as will revolu- 
 tionise it and somehow usher in the glory of the latter 
 days. I wish I could see the end. But I shall know it 
 some day." 
 
 To Mrs. Dennistoun, on the death of her Aunt : — 
 
 January 29, 1855. 
 
 " How could that life have been, if her fiiitli in Jesus 
 was not faith in a real living Person ? Could a mere 
 delusion, a fancy, produce such a result of character, so 
 true, so real, so deep, so long preserved, as she had ? 
 Impossible ! and therefore one reads her life and death 
 as a living Epistle, which speaks of the power of a hving 
 Saviour to keep the soul ever young, and ever fresh, in 
 its tendernesses and s}Tnpathies ; to enable one down to 
 extreme old age to carry about with them the dying of 
 the Lord Jesus in their mortal bodies, that so the life of 
 Jesus might be manifested in them. How beautiful was 
 her love, how enlarged, beaming from that bed like 
 sunlight, on every one and every thing around. I would 
 be an atheist if I could believe such a light could set for 
 ever in darkness ! It cannot be. It has never ceased, 
 and never shall cease, to shine in God's own sky." 
 
 From his JouENAii : — 
 
 " March 2nd. — This night heard of the death of the 
 Czar yesterday in St. Petersburg. How the news Avill run 
 from mouth to mouth, and for one true mourner, how 
 many millions will rejoice ! 
 
 " There he lies, the giant man — the ' every inch a king.* 
 Silent and dead as the marble of his palace. 
 
 " What shall be the effect ? Peace ? or, as I believe, 
 
i8si — 1856. 43 
 
 a European blaze, and the ultimate freedom of tlie 
 world ? 
 
 " The word of the Lord endureth for ever ! 
 
 "April 27th. — I leave this day for Edmburgh Com- 
 munion, London Bible Society, Holland, and, D. V., home. 
 
 " I have had a healthy, happy and busy winter, and 
 require some breathing time. May God m mercy sanctify 
 it for my good, brmg me home stronger in soul and 
 body." 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 Lo>rDOiir, Maij 2, 1855. 
 
 " I had a jolly sleep beside C , who evidently 
 
 dreamt he was a Highland terrier worrying another, from 
 the barks which he gave in his sleep. The snores oi 
 M were quite orthodox. They were rather too bare- 
 faced a copy of those of his congTCgation. I never closed 
 an eye, of course ! Poor fellow ! But I meditated so 
 profitably that I counted only two towns on the way — 
 Newcastle and York." 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 London. 
 
 " Dined at 's. There was a party of eight or 
 
 nine. Most of them EngHsh parsons, with the usual 
 amount of thoroughly correct manners, large hearts, 
 middling heads, and knowing nothing of Scotland except 
 as a place in the Islands from which grouse come. But 
 really ' very nice — ^you know.' " 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 Antwerp, May 4, 11 p.m. 
 
 " Enjoyed Bruges, and reached Ghent at 2. (0 
 those glorious chimes of the old cathedral !) Saw the 
 fine Cathedral and Van Eyck's delightful picture. what 
 truth ! what a love of nature ! what a taste for beauty had 
 the Memlings and Van Eycks ! Some of the peeps through 
 wmdows by the former and his minute painting of floAvers 
 and trees so delicious ! In Poussin's famous paintmg of 
 
4+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 'Christ in the midst of the Doctors,' such a head of 
 Cliarles V. is mtroduccd, and of the Duke of Alva ! " 
 
 To the S.VME : — 
 
 The Hague, Tuesday Morning. 
 
 " I have seen great paintings, but no great men. 
 
 " I have received much, very much kindness from the 
 Yan Loons and others, and I hope to meet as much more 
 at Leyden and Amsterdam. 
 
 " The royal family were all in church, hearing dear 
 Boucher, on Sabbath. The King was heard saying to his 
 sister, when he went out, ' How sublime ! I never heard 
 anything like it.' * Nor I,' replied the sister, ' but I have 
 no words to utter what I feel' It was indeed a noble 
 discourse." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 "June Src?, 1 io5. — I am forty-four. I preached on 
 the birth of a child being a legitimate cause of joy.'" 
 
 " Glory to God that I have been bom ! I praise Him 
 and bless Him for the gift of existence in a world in which 
 His own Son has been born a Saviour, a Brother, and in 
 which He rules. I praise Him, I bless Him for such a 
 gift, so worthy of Himself. 
 
 " Oh may I realise His purpose more and more by being 
 more and more His own child in simplicity, humihty, 
 faith, love, and undivided obedience ! Intense life in 
 Christ is mtense joy. 
 
 " I begin this week to visit my congregation once more. 
 I feel that personal acquaintance and private friendship 
 must be the foundation of public good. My schools are 
 all paid for. I desire to decUcate my powers with more 
 intense devotion to God. 
 
 " June Sth. — This day I heard my little girl mention, 
 for the first time, the name of God. I had requested 
 no one ever to speak to her of God until I first had this 
 honour, but the new servant had done it ; so I took the 
 
 • Published in Oood Words for 1873. 
 
1851 — 1856. 45 
 
 child on my knee (In Botliwell, wLere we are) and asked 
 her several questions as to who made her and everything, 
 and she replied, ' God.' O how indescribably strange 
 and blessed to my ears was the sound ! It cannot cease 
 for ever ! My prayer, my daily prayer is that she and all 
 my dear children may be holy from their infancy, and 
 grow up Christians. This, indeed, can only be through 
 the Spirit ; but surely there is no necessity that they 
 should grow up at any time hating God ! Must they be as 
 devils in their youth, and be afterwards converted ? God 
 forbid ! My prayer and hope is that they shall grow up in 
 the nurture of the Lord, and be His own dear children from 
 their infancy. Why not love Him as well as me, their 
 earthly father ? Oh, beloved Saviour, take them as babes 
 into thine own arms, and bless them and make them thine ! 
 May they never, never mention the name of God, but as 
 that of a Father. 
 
 " Lord ! my hope is in Thee. Let me not be put to 
 shame." 
 
 To his Atjistt, Mrs. Maxwell, after tlie burial of her husband at 
 Campsie : — 
 
 BoTHWELL, July 20, 1855. 
 
 " We have just returned from that green spot where 
 are gathering the earthly remains of so many who made 
 the earth beautiful to us, and whose undying spirits make 
 Heaven more homely to us. When standing there it was 
 glorious to feel that we could not sorrow for one of our 
 own there as ' without hope,' but in the sure and certain 
 hope of a resurrection unto life for them in Christ. How 
 peacefully did he, the last laid there, repose after his long 
 and harassing journey ! God alone, who knew his frame, and 
 the mysterious influence which the frad body so mightily 
 exercises over the mind, can tell what a life struggle he had ! 
 But he fought, and that was everything ; and I heartily 
 believe that he is now in His presence for evermore, with 
 exceeding joy ; and few there will cast their crowns down 
 with more exceeding reverence, humility, and awe, and 
 acknowledge more joyfully the exceeding riches of the 
 grace of Christ bestowed upon him. I shall take good 
 
45 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 care that my children shall hear of those itncles and aunts 
 ■whom we all so mucli loved and admired — of their refined 
 and exquisite honour, their deep and touching benevo- 
 lence, their tender and sjTmpathismg hearts, their beautiful 
 and transparent truthfulness, and admiration of all that 
 ■\^as really good and true. 
 
 " In a few years that spot in Campsie will be full. I 
 hope to lie there with my wife, and possibly my family. 
 ' Then cometh the end.' With such an end we may well 
 pray, ' Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as 
 it is in heaven.' " 
 
 From his Jottexal : — 
 
 "August list, 1855. — T start this day, with Dr. Craik, 
 for the Paris Conference of the EvangeHcal Alliance. I 
 am very glad to do so, for I have had a busy summer. 
 
 " I pray that good may come to the Church of Christ 
 out of this Conference ; that God may give us all humility, 
 justice, love, and luisdom. tlay I be kept with a pure 
 heart and single eye, spealdng the truth in love, fearing 
 neither the world profane nor the world religious, but 
 obeying God's Spirit. 
 
 " Lord ! keep my beloved ones in my absence ; and 
 keep my soul, spirit and body, for Thy glorious and eternal 
 kinfrdom !" 
 
 To Mrs. Macleod : — 
 
 PaPxTS, Jvrjust, 1855. 
 
 " Dinner at Herschell's ; Krummacher, Count St. George, 
 and others there. Went to the Exposition ; the finest 
 collection of paintings I ever saw. The heat past endu- 
 rance ; I walk twelve miles daily. The Alliance of no 
 use ; private meetings to-day to try and make it so. 
 Heard a Puscyite sermon ; horrid trash. No one from 
 Scotland has preached. Bad arrangements. The life 
 spent by us most agreeable and most useful to ourselves, 
 but utterly useless to others, except the cafes. The Queen 
 left to-day ; the day glorious, the scene magnificent ; felt 
 my heart beat in hearing 'God save the Queen' as the 
 
I85I— 1856. 
 
 47 
 
 grand cortege passed along the Boulevards — she looking 
 so well — the Emperor and Prince Albert on one side, and 
 the Queen and another lady on the other." 
 
 Froin his JouENAii : — 
 
 "October 1st, 1855. — Things to be aimed at and pra3'ed 
 for :— 
 
 "1. To perfect holiness. Is it possible that I shall 
 habitually possess myself, and exercise holy watchfulness 
 over my words and temper, so that in private and public I 
 shall live as a man who truly realises God's constant 
 presence— who is one with Christ, and therefore lives among 
 men and acts towards them with His mind and spirit ? 
 I, meek, humble, loving, ever by my life drawing m.en to 
 Christ — self behind, Christ before ! I believe this to be 
 as impossible by my o-wn resolving as that I could become 
 a Shakespear, a Newton, a Milton ; yet if God calls me 
 to this, God can so enable me to realise it that He shall 
 be pleased with me. But will I really strive after it ? 
 Oh, my Father ! see, hear, and help Thy Aveak and perish- 
 ing child ! For Christ's sake, put strength in me ; fulfil 
 in me the good pleasure of Thy will. Lord, pity me and 
 have mercy on me, that I may famish and thii'st for 
 Thee and perfect holiness ! 
 
 " 2. To know and improve every talent to the utmost, 
 whether in preaching, writing, speaking, acting. I feel 
 convinced that every man has given him of God much 
 more than he has any idea of, and that he can help on 
 the world's work m re than he knows of. What we 
 want is the siigle eye that will see what our work is, the 
 humilily to accept it however lowly, the faith to do it for 
 God, the perseverance to go on till death. 
 
 " Wise and loving Father ! Magnify Thy patience in 
 my wilfulness and stupidity, Thy strength in my weakness, 
 Thy mighty grace in my paltry vanity, Thy love in my 
 selfishness. Let not the fragments of my poorly educated 
 mind and broken time be lost, but glorify Thyself in me, 
 that when I die some shall feel and acknowledge Tliy 
 goodness in having created me, and given me to my fellow 
 
48 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 men. What may I yet be and do in Thee ! Oh kt all 
 worldly ambition be mortified, and a holy ambition take 
 its place ! 
 
 " Have been seeing ; just dying ; full of anxiety 
 
 for his son! ; deeply feel for him. Notice ! how that one 
 name of Jesus is all-in-all ! Men may argue about the 
 Atonement ; but the fact of an Atonement alone finds and 
 meets a sinner crying out for mercy. What can philosophy 
 do for such, or an atonement of mere self-sacrifice ? It 
 would only deepen the sense of sin. 
 
 " OcA. 80, 5^ P.M. — I have this moment finished my 
 little book on the Home School. I have made it a subject 
 of constant prayer, and have sincerely tried to write what 
 may do good to my fellow-men. I believe God will grant 
 it such a measure of success that I shall not be put to 
 shame, I do crave the reward of its helping human 
 hearts to do God's will. If I am taken away, I feel it 
 will be a pleasing little legacy to my beloved wife and chil- 
 dren. The latter will leam what the former already Icnows, 
 and what (thank God !) she sincerely sympathises with 
 me in — for in this, as in all things, we are fellow-workers. 
 The children will Imow what their father wished, prayed 
 for, and resolved to labour for. 
 
 " There are stages in love to God found, I think, in 
 the experience of all advanced Christians. The first is love, 
 or rather gratitude, for what God has done or is to us ; 
 the second, love for what He is in Himself ; the third, 
 a love which, not satisfied with personal enjo}Tnent, desires 
 that the universe may share it, and is grieved, amazed, 
 horrified, that any should be blind to it — that we our- 
 selves should have been so, and see it so dimly. Do I 
 desire that God should thus be glorified?" 
 
 To liis sister Jane : — 
 
 " I know you Avould like a yarn about all manner of 
 particulars, but it is simply impossible. I believe the 
 time is soon coming when visits and messages by the tele- 
 graph will be common, but letters as much out of date as 
 foUos. The Apostle John's letters are not very long, but 
 
I85I — 1856- 
 
 49 
 
 the writing of them seems to have been uncongenial, for 
 he frets agamst pen and ink. By the way, it was to 
 a lady, who I have no doubt complained of his not 
 writing as long letters to her as Paul did to some of his 
 other friends," 
 
 To his Brother Donald, then abroad : — 
 
 " I rejoice that you are getting into good French 
 society. See as many persons as you possibly can — as 
 various t}"pes of opinion as possible. 
 Be not ashamed to confess ignorance, 
 and be always asking, and you will 
 learn much. Men, men — meet men ! 
 
 " Beware with intense watchful- 
 ness asrainst the sensualisinsf tend- 
 ency of excitement and living abroad. 
 The society of the good is the best (^ 
 help against this — next to devo- \ \\ 
 tion." ^ ./ 
 
 JXt£ 
 
 "Of the 'ig'h Church." 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 " I am glad you are at art. Try 
 and get a vivid impression of the 
 different schools. Study chronologically. I remember 
 there are at Munich fine specimens of sketches by Van 
 
 A 
 
 ; 
 
 / 
 
 \ 
 
 X 
 
 " Would yon not like to see how that Brother of oui's in the Crimea 
 is looking ? Eh ?" 
 
 Dyck, a number of wonderful Rubens, with excellent 
 specimens of the Flemish school, Berghen, &c. 
 
 VOL. II. E 
 
50 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " \Ye had a noblo meeting of the British Association. 
 
 All the leading men were in 
 church. Had a glorious talk 
 A\itli Rawlinson — sein eigener 
 StandpunJd. 
 
 " Do, my dear fellow, study- 
 hard at language. Study, you 
 
 « My liver is at present joUy." raSCal, Study ! " 
 
 " Jan. 17, 1856. — Report this morning of the prospect 
 of peace with Russia. Peace is joy as far as the present 
 suffering is concerned. But as far as the interests of man 
 are concerned, and the position of our country, I mourn 
 the news. We have come out of this war lower in every 
 respect in the world's opinion than we were when we 
 entered it. I fear, if the war ends, that it will be merely 
 to give time to Russia to prepare for another by becoming 
 herself stronofer, and biding- her time till the "Western 
 powers are disunited. The salvation of the world now 
 will be pushing missions in the East, and overturning all 
 thinofs from within, leave the without to come right in its 
 own time." 
 
 From his Jorr.XAL :-— 
 
 "Feb. 2d. — I have had one of the severest fourteen 
 days of mental and bodily fatigue — chiefly, if not wholly, 
 the former — which I have had for years. Last week, 
 after a previous week of toU, there was Monday and 
 Tuesday writing and dictatmg, changing and reducing a 
 
 letter in reply to a horrid one from . The struggle 
 
 — and it was, I am ashamed to say, dreadful — Avas to 
 write and feel as a Christian, when my flesh could have so 
 written that it would have been to him as flaying alive." 
 
 To his Sister Jaxe : — 
 
 Feb. 9, 1856. 
 
 " I have (as Jean used to say) been ' painfully exer- 
 cised ' by this unjust attack from . My struggle, 
 
1851 — 1856. 51 
 
 you understand, is between the temptation to yield to 
 anger and my conviction that it is the will of Christ tliat 
 I should so love him as to consider the evil in him, and 
 seek to deliver him from it. How horrible to be obliged 
 to fight at all, to feel the desire strong, to be unable to say, 
 ' I love,' to feel the congeniality of revenge ! pride ! 
 O vanity ! How I pray not only to speak and write as a 
 Christian, but oh, dearest, to feel truly as one ! 
 
 " As to John Campbell's book on the ' Atonement,' it 
 is like himself, dark, but deep, and very true. 1 think it 
 has led me captive. I shall read it again ; but it finds 
 me, and fills up a huge void. I fear that no one has 
 read it but myself" 
 
 " Sep. 27 fh. — In May I went to London and preached 
 for Herschell and the Sailors' Friend Society, and then 
 went to visit my dear friend Mrs. Dennistoun at Tours. 
 We had most delightful drives, visiting Mettray, Plessy de 
 Tours, and the old Bastille of Loches. I attended the 
 Assembly for a day in May. They carried, by an immense 
 majority the India Education measure, for which Dr. Bryce 
 and I contended almost alone." 
 
 This allusion to the India Education measure refers 
 to a discussion, which, had been agitating the Church 
 for some time, as to the lawfulness of accepting for 
 mission schools the Government Grants in Aid while 
 these grants were given equally to heathen, or at all 
 events non-Christian, schools. The extreme ' Evan- 
 gelical' party contended against the Church condoning 
 a measure which they thought ought never to have 
 been passed by a Christian State. On the other 
 hand Norman Macleod and Dr. Bryce held that it 
 was impossible for the Government to take any nar- 
 rower ground in dealing with a country circum- 
 stanced like India. They insisted that it would be 
 
 E 2 
 
52 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 the liciglit of folly in the I'hiireh to refuse assistance 
 from GoTemment in the matter of secular instruction, 
 as long as she was left free to add religious teaching ; 
 and they -were persuaded that to separate the mission 
 schools from the educational system of India was 
 simply to throw away an opportunity for exercising a 
 wide and wholesome influence. The vote of the 
 Assembly endorsed their views, and thus inaugurated 
 a revolution in the policy of the India Mission of the 
 Church. 
 
 From his Jottrxal. 
 
 " Glasgow, August, 1 850. — The Evangelical Alliance met 
 here. I made the first speech, bidding its ministers Avelcome. 
 I had much happy communication with Sherman, Willi:im 
 Monod, Krummacher and Kuntze from Berlin, and 
 Herschell. 
 
 " I preached, on the 24th, to a great crowd, among 
 others to Mr. Stanley who was introduced to me by 
 John Shairp.""" In tlie evening we had a prayer meeting 
 
 • The following letter from Mr. Stanley (now Dean Stanley) to 
 Principal Shairp, wi'itten after this visit, gives a graphic account of 
 the impressions he then formed : — 
 
 " . . , , Campbell was a younger, thinner, sharper man than I had 
 expected to see — a thorough gentleman — very interesting evidently 
 and refined in thought, experience, and expression. But I thought 
 him almost too spiritual, too ghostly ; the stars shone through him ; 
 he would vanish at the cock-crowing. A beaiitiful mind and spirit, 
 but too niueh ius])hercd in its own light to be of much use to me. 
 
 " And now for the other. If Campbell was too much of a 
 ghost, Norman Macleod is iindoubtedly a man of flesh and blood. 
 1 first heard the service and sernion. The sermon was on John xii. 
 'Except a corn of wheat,' &c. To a fastidious taste it might have 
 been too oratorical in manner and matter ; but considering the 
 audience and the tremendous effort, I did not object to it. I thought 
 it admirable, truly evan;,'elical, not a word of untruth — very moving 
 ifi parts, full of illustrations, critical dilliculties glanced at and avoided 
 in the most judicious and yet honust fashion. In short, I don't know 
 the man in the Chui-ch of England who could have preached such a 
 
1851 — 1856. 53 
 
 for winding up tlie Scutari Mission, which I bless God to 
 have begun, carried on, and ended. 
 
 " October ^rd. — I am just starting for Balmoral. I 
 believe I could not have travelled a week sooner, since I 
 received the invitation the beginning of September at 
 Kirkaldy, when I could not turn in bed. I go in Christ's 
 name. He who has given me this work will give me 
 grace to do it. Blessed and most merciful Lord, hear me, 
 and deliver me from all vanity, pride, and self-seeking, 
 and all the nervous ffear which they occasion ! Give me 
 only faith in Thee, love to Thee, and all will be well, and 
 bless Thy word for immortal souls, and for the good 
 of those to whom Thou hast given such power in the 
 world ! 
 
 " October 8th, Tuesday. — I have just returned, and all 
 my confidence in Christ has been vindicated. I preached 
 on Sabbath, my subject being faith in a living, present, 
 divine Saviour, the solution of difficulties. Miss Nightin- 
 gale was among my audience. I was asked in the 
 evening to dine at the Castle. The Prince spoke much 
 to me. 
 
 " May the Lord bless all this for good ! It is my 
 deepest and truest prayer, that all may tend to His 
 glory." 
 
 sermon ; nor do I know siicli a man as I found him to be afterwards in 
 converse, first in the vestry for a quarter of an hour, and afterwards 
 for two hours here in the evening. Of course I have known men of 
 greater abilities and character, but, if he be what he seems, I know 
 no one who unites such thorough good sense, honesty, manly inde- 
 pendence, with such working, stirring, devout energy and power of 
 appealing to the mass. How gladly, but that he is better where he 
 is, would I have made him an English bishop. "We went over many 
 fields together, and I am sincerely grateful to you for having made 
 him known to me. 
 
 "I asked him about the Free Kirk and the Covenanters, and he 
 charmed the cockles of my heart by his answer. ' The Free Kirk was 
 just an outburst of Presbyterian Puseyism.' ' Laud and the Cove- 
 nanters were just the same men on different sides, except that whtt 
 one called ' church' the other called ' kirk,' and I am heartily glad 
 they eat each other up. The Free Kirk are descendants of tije 
 Covenanters ; they pride themselves on being ' the Church of the 
 past.' That is just what they are, and I make them a present of it 
 with all my heart.' " 
 
54 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Extracts from a private Note-book for 1856 : — 
 
 " How to spend the morning hour from G to 7 a.m. 
 A short prayer for the Spirit of God, that it may be 
 wisely and profitably spent. Devotional reading — Baxter 
 and Leighton. Short meditation and prayer on what is 
 read, Avith reference to incUvidual application. A psalm 
 sung quietly. The Scriptures read m order, Avith thought 
 and devotion. Prayer." 
 
 From tis Journal : — 
 
 " As I opened my shutters this morning, the crescent 
 moon, clear and well defined, and with a bright attendant 
 star, occupied the blue sky with hardly a cloud. Of Avhat 
 use has that moon been during the past night ! ]\Iany a 
 pilgrim has tracked his way by her beams, and many a 
 mariner by them has seen his port ! But the sun is 
 rising, and the moon must depart hke the ]\Iosaic ritual, 
 and many an old patriarchal form of truth, before the 
 rising of that Sun of Righteousness Avhose glory Avas all 
 their light." 
 
 " There are men who no more grasp the truth which 
 they seem to hold, than a sparrow grasps the message 
 passing through the electric wire on Avhich it perches." 
 
 " I received the foUoAving ansAA'ers from tAvo intenduig 
 communicants, and they illustrate a fact Avhich has often 
 been impressed on me, respecting the possibility of persons 
 being regular in church all their lives, and yet rcmainmg 
 ignorant of the simplest truths. 
 
 •' Who led the children out of Egypt ? Eve. 
 
 " Who AA-as Eve ? The mother of God. 
 
 " What death did Christ die ? (Mter a long time) 
 Hanged on a tree. 
 
 " What did they do with the body ? Laid it in a 
 manger. 
 
 " What did Christ do for sinners ? Gave His Son. 
 
 " Any Avonderful Avorks Christ did ? Made the luorld 
 in six days. 
 
1851 — 1856. 55 
 
 " Any others ? Buried Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. 
 
 " What became of them afterwards. Angels took them 
 to Ahrahanis hosovi. 
 
 " What had Christ to do with that ? He took Abra- 
 ham. 
 
 " Who was Christ ? The Holy Spirit 
 
 " Are you a simier ? No. 
 
 " Did you never sin, and do you love God perfectly ? 
 Yes." 
 
 " NoveTYiher l\th, 185G. — Both sciatica and work I fear 
 on the increase. 
 
 " I feel the pressure and the pain. What am I to do ? 
 
 " 1. Keep my temper and my peace in God, the calm 
 of my uiner shrine where He is, undisturbed by the noise 
 of the thronging ' courts of the priests,' ' of the people,' 
 ' of the women,' or ' of the gentiles ' without. This is my 
 first duty. There never can be a good reason for my 
 losing inner peace with God. God help me ! 
 
 " 2. I must by His grace attend to details, and use right 
 means to attain this end. 1. Early rising, and methodical 
 division of time. 2. Acceptance of no more work than 
 can be done in consistency with my health and strength. 
 3. Cultivating happy, cheerful thoughts of life, having a 
 strong faith that God is and Christ is, and that the end 
 shall be glorious to every ' soldier ' who ' endures hardness,' 
 in the grand campaign. 
 
 " God give me grace to rise as I used to do — at ^ to G 
 — for it is always hard to the flesh ! 
 
 " My Father, Thou laiowest my frame ! Thou remem- 
 berest I am dust. Thou carest for me. I can therefore 
 cast my care on Thee, and so be careful for nothing. 
 Keep me in Thy peace. Let me ever honour Thee as the 
 best of masters by obedience to Thy will in all things, 
 by honouring Thy laws whether relating to body or mind, 
 and by doing all thmgs and accepting all things with a 
 calm spirit. Thou knowest Thy servant, and under- 
 standest his thoughts. Help me according to Thy word. 
 Amen. 
 
 "I do not wish to fly to that blue sky, but by the 
 
56 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 help of God Almighty to act a true and brave part amidst 
 the smoke and mud and sin of Glasgow. 
 
 " Lord forgive me, if I seem to think I am enduring 
 hardness ! God have mercy on me for ever thinking my 
 lot has a cloud — a speck of hardness in it. ^ly cup runs 
 over with mercies. I am in the lap of every indulgence, 
 and if I fret, it is as a spoiled child." 
 
1 
 
 CHAPTEE XIY. 
 
 1857—1859. 
 
 N 1857 he began to hold evening services for the 
 poor, to which none were admitted except in 
 their everyday working clothes. The success of a 
 similar experiment, made many years before in Lou- 
 doun, encouraged him to make this attempt in Glas- 
 gow, in the hope of reaching some of those who, from 
 poverty or other causes, had fallen away from all 
 church attendance. For the first winter, these services 
 were held in the Martyrs' church, which was filled 
 every Sabbath evening by the very people he wished 
 to get ; the following year they were transferred to 
 the Baronj^, where they were continued till a mission 
 church was built. It may be safely asserted that this 
 work gave him more interest than any other he ever 
 undertook ; and that he never addressed any audience 
 with greater effect than that which he gathered 
 from ' the streets and lanes of the city.' The pews 
 were filled with men in their fustian jackets and with 
 poor women, bareheaded, or with an old shawl drawn 
 over the head, and dressed most of them in short-gown 
 and petticoat. Unkempt heads, faces begrimed with 
 labour, and mothers with infants in their arms, gave a 
 
5 8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 strange character to the scene. The police some- 
 times rejiorted that several well-known thieves were 
 present. But, however large and various the audience 
 might be, he seemed to hold the key to every heart 
 and conscience ; and so riveted was the attention he 
 secured, that not unfrequently an involuntary excla- 
 mation of surprise or sympathy would pass from lip 
 to lip over the crowd. The following description of 
 one of these evenings in the Barony is taken from an 
 English newspaper : — 
 
 " I found I would not be ndmitted except I was dressed 
 as a -worlvino- man. The uniform of a dras^oon was offered 
 and accepted, but on second tliougiits I j)referred the cast- 
 olf Avorking-dress of a coach-builder — a dirty coat, a dirty 
 white flannel vest, striped shirt, red cravat, and Glengarry 
 bonnet. Thus attired, I stood waiting among the croAvd 
 of poor men and women that Avere shivering at the gate, 
 biding the time. Many of these women were very old and 
 very frail. The night being excessively cold, the most of 
 them had the skirts of their gowns tucked over their heads. 
 Not a few of them had a deep asthmatic wheezle, most 
 distressing to hear. Poor souls ! they were earnestly talk- 
 ing about the Doctor and his sa3'ings. I conversed with 
 several working men who had attended all the series from 
 tlie first, three or four years back. I asked one man 
 if they were all Scotch who attended ? He said, ' All 
 nations ffo and hear the Doctor.' Another said, ' Highland 
 Scotch and Lowland Scotch, and English and Irish, — in 
 fact, a' kind o' folks comes to the Doctor on Sabbath nichts.' 
 ' A' body likes the Doctor,' said another. One man, a 
 labourer, I think, in a foundry, said, * He kent great lots 
 o' folk that's been blessed by the Doctor, baith Scotch and 
 Irish. I ken an Irish Catholic that wronglit wi' me, o' the 
 name o' Boyd, and he came ae nicht out o' curiosity, and he 
 was converted afore he raise from his seat, and lie's a stanch 
 Protestant to this day, every bit o' 'im, tliongh his father 
 and mother, and a' his folks, are sair against liim for 't.' 
 
185/ — 1859- 59 
 
 " On the door being opened, a sudden rush took place 
 in that direction. I found a posse of elders stationed 
 as a board of mspection, closely examining old and young, 
 male and female, and turning back all who had any signs 
 of respectability. All hats and bonnets were excluded. 
 My courage almost failed me, but as I had from boy- 
 hood been m the habit of domg what I could among 
 the poor, and being so bent on ascertaining the ' way ' of 
 the Doctor with that class, I resolved to make the effort. 
 My weakness arose from the fear of detection by any of the 
 elders I spoke to in the forenoon. Pulling my hair down 
 over my brow, and, in the most slovenly manner possible, 
 wiping my nose with the sleeve of my coat, I pushed my 
 way up to the board, and ' passed.' I found that none of 
 the seat cushions, black, red, green, or blue, were removed ; 
 no, nor the pew Bil)les or Psalm books, a p'jiin proof that, 
 by the test of. several years, the poor of the closes and 
 wynds could be trusted. The contrast between the forenoon 
 and evening congregations m point of appearance was very 
 great and striking; but in regard to order and decorum 
 there was no difterence whatever. When the time was 
 up, a little boy was seen leading a blind man along the 
 aisle towards the pulpit. On the boy placing the blind 
 man in the precentor's desk, a poor man sitting next me 
 nudcfed me on the elbow, and asked, ' Is that the man that's 
 to preech till 's ? ' ' Oh, no ! ' said I. ' You'll see the 
 Doctor immediately.' ' But surely,' says he, ' that canna 
 be the regular precentor ? ' ' Oh, no,' said I. ' This man, 
 I suspect, is the precentor for us poor folks.' Here the 
 Doctor — stout, tall, and burly — was seen ascending the 
 pulpit stairs. He began by prayer. He then gave out 
 the 130th Psalm for praise. Before singing, he com- 
 mented at great length on the character and spirit of the 
 Psalm, dwelling very fully on the first line, ' Lord, from tlio 
 depths to thee I cried ! ' Nothing could have been better 
 adapted for his auditory than the Doctor's consolatory ex- 
 position of that Psalm. The precentor by this time had 
 got very uneasy, and had several times struck his pitch- 
 fork, and was ready to start, but the Doctor, being so full, 
 and having still this, that, and the other thing to say, he 
 
6o LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 could not commence. At last, the Doctor looking kindly 
 down upon him, said, 'You'll rise now, Peter, and begin.* 
 He rose, and began. He, tracing the lines with his fingers 
 on his ponderous Psalm book of raised letters, ' gave out 
 the lines,' two at a time. It was a most gratifying spectacle, 
 and said much for the advance of Christian civihsation. The 
 Doctor next read the first chapter of the first epistle of Paul 
 to the Thessalonians. The commentary on the chapter was 
 most strikingly effective in point of consolatory and prac- 
 tical application to the condition of his auditory. In refer- 
 ring to the mother and grandmother of Timothy, he made 
 a grand stand for character, which made the poor man 
 next to me strike the floor several times with his feet by 
 way of testifying his approbation. Had the Doctor's 
 remarks on the subject been delivered from a platfonn, 
 they would have elicited thunders of applause. He said 
 the most valuable thing Prince Albert left was character.* 
 He knew perfectly well that very many very poor people 
 thought that it Avas impossible for them to have a character. 
 It was not true ; he would not hear of it. There was not 
 a man nor a Avoman before him, hoAvever poor they might 
 be, but had it in their poAver, by the grace of God, to 
 leave behind theni the grandest thing on earth, character ; 
 and their children may rise up after them, and thank God 
 that their mother was a pious AA'oman, or their father a 
 pious man. The text selected was 1 Timothy vi. 1 2 — 1 4. 
 The discourse Avas very plain, explicit, pointed, and amply 
 illustrated, as by one Avho knew all the ' outs and ins,' 
 difficulties and trials of the people before him, and they 
 listened Avith breathless attention, and appeared to drink 
 in all he said, as indeed ' good AA^ords ' for them. Some of 
 the children-in-arms sometimes broke the silence by their 
 prattle or their screams, but the doctor, though uncom- 
 monly sensitive, never appeared the least put about." 
 
 The results of these services were remarkable. 
 Many hundreds were reclaimed from laAvless habits, 
 some of the more ignorant were educated, and a largo 
 
 * This description was written in 1861, 
 
i8s7 — 1859. 61 
 
 nnmber became commimicants. There was a nobilit}'- 
 of character displayed by several of these working 
 men which moved him to tears as he spoke of them, 
 and gave him a deeper love than ever for the poor. 
 Some of them took ways of showing their gratitude, 
 the very oddity of which gave touching evidence of 
 the depth of the feeling.* 
 
 His method of instruction was admirably adapted 
 to the character of his audience. He was never ab- 
 stract, but threw his teaching into objective or descrip- 
 tive form, and not seldom dramatized the lesson he was 
 enforcing. His counsel was not confined to things 
 spiritual, but embraced such practical matters as the 
 sanitary condition of the houses of the poor, healthy 
 food, and the treatment of children, and was given so 
 forcibly that the meanest intelligence could understand 
 the rationale of his advice. His unaffected sympathy 
 with the poor and ignorant in all their wants and 
 difficulties was the secret of his power over them. 
 His frankness and large human-heartedness com- 
 manded their confidence and won their affection. 
 
 "March 15, 1857. — I began, four weeks ago, my sermon 
 to working men and women in their working clothes, on 
 my old Loudoun plan, of excluding all who had clothes fit for 
 church by day. And by God's great mercy I have crammed 
 the Martyrs' Church with such. I never experienced more 
 joy than in this service. It is grand. I do not envy 
 Wellington at Waterloo. 
 
 * I remember on a Sunday evening returning wltli him, after one 
 of these services, to our father's house. When the cab^ stopped, a 
 rough hand was pushed in at the window. Norman understood what 
 was meant, and on taking what was offered, received a wann grasp 
 from some unknown working man, who had come from the Barony 
 church, a mile away, to express by this act more thankfulness than 
 he could find words to utter. 
 
62 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " I have just piiblislicd ' Deborah,' a book for sen^ants. 
 "\Miat is written witli a sin^-le eve, and seekinsf God's blessingf. 
 must, I think, do such good as will vindicate tlie publication. 
 We shall see. 
 
 '' Siimhiy, 29. — On the ]\ronday after the former journal 
 I was seized with dreadful neuralgia (as it was called). I 
 spent the night in my study ; on the floor, sofa, chair — any- 
 where for rest. It left me Tuesday, and then till Sunday 
 I suffered several hours each day, the only agony I 
 ever experienced. I spent another terrible night. Sun- 
 day last I v.-as in bed. Since then I have been confined 
 to the house, but, thank God, feel able to preach this after- 
 noon and evening, though I have been writing with much 
 sense of weakness of body. Then scarlet fever attacked 
 my beloved boy on Tuesday. But oh ! the awful mercy 
 of God to me, he has had it as yet most gently. "Was I 
 sincere when I gave Kim up, all up to God last wcok ? 
 I hope so. As far as I know, I desire Jesus to choose 
 for me ; and, as far as I know, there is nothing could 
 make me alter that calm resolution ; but, as far as I know, 
 there is also no man whose flesh winces more under fear 
 of affliction, or who would more require the mighty power 
 of God to keep him from open rebellion. Amidst all con- 
 fusion, darlaiess, doubts, fears, there is ever one liq^ht, one 
 life, one all — Jesus, the living personal Saviour!" 
 
 'With the desire of promoting increased life in the 
 Church, he wrote a series of articles in the Edin- 
 liirrjh Christian Magazine^ in which he proposed the 
 formation of a Church Union for the purpose of dis- 
 cussing questions connected with practical work, and 
 for earnest prayer for the outpouring of God's Spirit. 
 He believed that there were many ministers and 
 laymen •s^'lio were mourning in secret over faults in 
 the Church which were a continual burden to his 
 own soul ; and that the best results might be ex- 
 pected if such men were only brought together for 
 
i857 — 1859- 63 
 
 conference and prayer. The state of the Church 
 seemed to call for some such movement. 'AYliat 
 most alarms me is that we are not alarmed. What 
 most pains me is that we are not pained.' ' Whether 
 we are the Church of the past, or the true repre- 
 sentatives of the Second Eeformation, or any other 
 reformation, is to us a question of comj)aratively little 
 importance ; but it is of infinite importance that we 
 be the Church of the present, and thereby become 
 the Church of the future. Let the dead bury theu' 
 dead, but let us follow Christ and be fellow-labourers 
 with Him in this world.' 
 
 After several preliminary meetings, the Union was 
 formed, but it existed only two years, and the only 
 memorial of it now remaining is to be found in the 
 missionary breakfast, which is held during every 
 General Assembly. 
 
 From his Joubxal : — 
 
 " The second meetinof of the Union is to-morrow. I 
 have prayed often that out of that weakness God may 
 ordain strength, to aid my dear but sore-wounded and 
 suffering Church ; but, best of all, to help His Church, by 
 saving souls and unitiuof saints, 
 
 " April 11, 12 P.M. — Sunday last I finished my winter's 
 course in the Martyrs' Church, and invited all who wished 
 to partake of the Lord's Supper to intimate their wishes 
 to me on Tuesday in the vestry. On Tuesda}'' evening 
 seventy-six came for communion ! Of these forty-seven 
 had never communicated before. Fifty-two were females ; 
 twenty-five males. I never saw such a sight, nor exj)eri- 
 enced such unmixed joy, for all had come because blessed 
 through the Word, and a great majority seemed to me to 
 have been truly converted. Bless the Lord ! To-morrow, 
 
6+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 please God, I shall give them the Commiir,ion in their 
 worlving clothes at five in the church. 
 
 " I am persuaded that to succeed in doing permanent 
 good to such it is necessary (1) To preach regularly and 
 systematically (with heart, soul, and strength though !). 
 (2) To exclude well-dressed people. (3) To keep out of 
 newspapers and off platforms, and avoid fuss. (4) To 
 develop self-reliance. (5) To give Communion on credit- 
 able profession, as the apostles admitted to the Church, 
 and then to gather up results, and bring the converts into 
 a society. (6) To follow up by visitation, stimulating 
 themselves to collect for clothes, 
 
 " Tuesday, 1 ^th. — What shall I render unto the Lord for 
 all His benefits ? 
 
 " Sabbath was a day of peace and joy, and my sermon 
 on ' God forbid that I should glory, &c.,' preached in great 
 peace by me — and I believe found most profitable by my 
 dear people. How could I convey to any other the 
 profound and undying conviction I have of God being 
 verily a hearer of prayer and a personal God ? Whatever 
 arguments were capable of shaking my faith in this, would 
 shake my faith in God. I gave the Communion to sixty- 
 seven working people in their working clothes. Having 
 kept ray intention secret, as I was terrified for fuss and a 
 spectacle, none were present but the elders. I went 
 through the regular service, occupjHng about seventy 
 minutes. The Avhole scene was very solemn, very touching. 
 I believe all were sincere. 
 
 " But now comes the great work of training them to 
 habits of self-reliance and self-denial. I shall watch and 
 labour, and before God shall tell the truth of my results. 
 Failure may teach us as well as success. If I fail, then I 
 will set a buoy on my wreck to warn others from the 
 rock, but not from the harbour. My new elders were 
 with me — God bless them ! 
 
 " Last evening all was ended with a prayer meeting of 
 the Union, I in the chair. My good and valued friends, 
 William Robertson and Smith of Lauder, with me, also 
 dear James Campbell. 
 
 " Then prayer and thanksgiving alone with my beloved 
 
1857—1859- 6s 
 
 wife for the end of these five weeks since the night I 
 sprang up in agony and spent a night of great pain in this 
 room — my study ! T. 9. A. 
 
 " May. — I go to London this evening to speak for 
 Tract Society, I preach twice for Herschell. On Monday, 
 for the London Missionary Society ; then home, dear home ! 
 And now. Father, I go forth again in Thy name, and desire 
 to be kept true, humble, and unselfish : seeking Thy glory 
 and Thy favour, which verily is life ! Amen, and Amen. 
 
 " May 17. — I have returned, and give thanks to God ! 
 I spoke on Friday evening — very lamely indeed — for I 
 was made so uncomfortable by a narrow and vulgar attack 
 
 by on ; and then by as narrow and more 
 
 vulgar attack by on modern novels. I had to stick 
 
 up for Jack the Giant Killer. I think I shall never enter 
 Exeter Hall again on such occasions. The atmosphere is 
 too muggy for my lungs." 
 
 The year 1857 was notable in his own spiritual 
 history. He was attacked by an illness which for a 
 time gave his medical advisers considerable anxiety, 
 and was attended with such pain, that he had fre- 
 quently to pass the greater part of the night in his 
 chair; yet, during the day, when the suffering had 
 abated, he was generally at his post of labour in the 
 parish. For a while he took the worst view of his own 
 case, but anticipated its issue with calmness. An 
 autumn tour, however, in Switzerland, in which he was 
 accompanied by his wife, and by his valued friends, 
 Mr. and Mrs. J. A. Campbell, in a great measure 
 restored him. But, shortly after his return, Mrs. Mac- 
 leod was laid prostrate by typhoid fever, which ren- 
 dered her delirious for several weeks, and reduced her 
 to so critical a condition that on several occasions 
 her life was despaired of. He recognised the solemn 
 
 VOL. II. p 
 
66 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 teaching which tlicse clays of terrible suspense con- 
 tained, and his journals record the mental agony he 
 passed through, as he tried to render willing obedi- 
 ence to his Father's will. It seemed a period when 
 all the lessons of his past life — all his O'wti sermons 
 and teaching to others — all he had kno-^Ti of God and 
 of the nature of Christian life as a life of Sonship — 
 were gathered into one decisive question for his own 
 soul. He literally wrestled in praj^er, and fought 
 inch by inch against self-will, until he was able to 
 say, in peaceful submission, 'Thy will be done.' 
 The effects of this time were immediate and enduring. 
 He lived henceforth more entirely for God, and became 
 much more tender, considerate, and patient towards 
 others than he had ever been. There was no lessen- 
 ing of the old joj'ousness and genial humour; but 
 he seemed to care less for the opinions of men, and 
 looked more than ever to God alone. 
 
 It may now appear that the experience of this 
 epoch in his life was as opportune as it was powerful. 
 It came when he was about to enter a wider sphere 
 of influence than he had hitherto occupied, and to 
 encounter greater difficulties than those with which 
 his past career had made him familiar. It was well, 
 therefore, that his character should have been forti- 
 fied, as it was at this period, to withstand the shock 
 of conflicting opinions ; and that, having been thrown 
 so completely on God, he was able henceforth to be 
 freer than ever of the influence of parties and their 
 leaders. 
 
 " June 4. — For some days I have felt pain, and feared the 
 return of iny complaint. I have seen Dr. Laurie. I know 
 
1857— 1859. 67 
 
 it to be very serious, and I feel now how this may he the 
 beginning of the end. 
 
 " Yet how awing is the thought of the gift of life 
 being rendered up ! The opportunities of receiving and 
 doing good here gone for ever ; pain to be encountered, and 
 then the great secret revealed ! But every question is 
 stilled, every doubt ansAvered, all good secured, in and 
 through faith in the name of Father, Son (Brother), and 
 Comforter ! 
 
 " Oh, God, enable me to be brave, unselfish, cheerful, 
 patient, because trusting Thee ! 
 
 " Evening. — I feel a crisis in my illness is passed. my 
 God, let not two such days of thought be lost to me, as 
 those occasioned last month by my mistaken fears about 
 myself." 
 
 To J. G. Hamilton, Esq. : — 
 
 Craigie Btjen, Moffat, JuJ^ Wi. 
 
 " Here I am, like a blackbird reposing in my nest in a 
 green wood, beside a burn, surrounded by pastoral 
 hills, musical with bleating sheep and shadowy with 
 clouds. My chicks all about me, some chirping, some 
 singing, all gaping for food, with my lady blackbird perched 
 beside me, her glossy plumage glittering in the sun, a per- 
 fect sermon on contentment. 
 
 *' Blackbirds put me in mind of hills, and bills of money, 
 and money of those who need it, and then of those who 
 are willing to give it, and that brings me to you. It is 
 not for schools, churches, or schemes but for charity to 
 help a needy gentlewoman 
 
 " I am sorry to say that my complaint has not left me. 
 I had a learned consultation in London with the great 
 authority in such cases. He has put me on a regimen so 
 strict that it would make a hermit's cell almost comfort- 
 able ; and he commands rest. But this I cannot command 
 for a month yet." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 "December. — I am alone, with nothing to oocupy me 
 but my own thoughts, and come what may, perhaps it 
 
 F 2 
 
68 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 may help on God's work in my soul if I try to express 
 even in a very inadequate and crude way the solemn crisis 
 through which I am now passing. 
 
 " Wednesday night my beloved one became so alarm- 
 ingly ill that I lost all hope. The night was a memorable 
 one to me. It was one of those awful soul struir?les be- 
 
 CO 
 
 tween life in God and the creature, which seem to compress 
 the history of years into minutes. The only thing that 
 gave me light was the one thought of doing God's will, 
 and it did seem to me right, beautiful, good, that it should 
 be done in any way. I was able to look up to my Father 
 and say, ' Thy will, not mine.' But oh! oh! the struggle 
 now ! To be v/illing in truth, to bury my life out of sight, 
 how hard ! To have my true life in God alone — im- 
 j)ossible ! I am supported, I think (dear God, pity me !) 
 I can say ' Thy will, not mine ! ' But to do this truly ; 
 to do it always ; to do it in all things ; to hang loose from 
 life to all but Thee ! my Father, helj) me, teach 
 me, for I desire faith and patience to have their perfect 
 work. I desire to be made Thine wholh'', and to learn 
 obedience and meekness as a son ; but God, my Father, 
 uphold me under Thy loving, but sore and necessary 
 dealing. If she is taken away ! If she is spared ! * Lord, 
 into Thy hand I commit my spirit,' as unto a faithful 
 Creator. Glorify Thy name I 
 
 " My Father, I lie at Thy feet, and desire to be led 
 as a child, and to follow Jesus — to die with Him. Yet 
 lead me not into deeper trial lest I perish. Yet, Amen — 
 Amen — I trust in Thee ! In the depths, in darkness, I 
 trust in Thee. God forgive my fears ; Thou rememberest 
 I am dust." 
 
 To liis Sister Jake : — 
 
 22ntZ November. 
 
 " The nervous, distracted outward man is one, and the 
 inner rest in God belongs to another being. They both 
 sadly cross. But my faith is not shaken in Him. May it 
 be found to His glory at His appearing." 
 
 " This is a quiet, peaceful day. Without — wind, rain, 
 mist. Within — peace. 
 
i857 — 1859. 69 
 
 *' All tliat man can do for her is done. She is watched 
 every hour, and I am told there is hope, and that it is a 
 mere question of time. Can the vessel weather the long 
 storm ? 
 
 " The mental history of this time to me is unparalleled. 
 First the awful nervousness ; then the soul battle, then 
 the peace ; the doubts, fears, agonies ! and this day peace 
 — perfect peace." 
 
 From his JOURNAL : — 
 
 " Beloved John Campbell and Dr. Macduff have been a 
 great strength and stay. 
 
 " It is hard to describe my feelings. I now hope, yet 
 fear lest for one moment I should be kept off the one life, 
 the living God ! I have resigned her into His hands. 
 I know He will prepare me, for I desire first (as far 
 as I know) that His kingdom shall come in me and by 
 me. Then, on the other hand, should she be given back ! 
 A solemn battle has then to be fought whether or not I 
 shall attempt to relraild my house or die daily. I feel 
 that God's grace will be required just as much for me it 
 the precious gift is restored as if taken away. 
 
 " Lord, undertake for us. Thou seest our strength is 
 gone. We lean on Thee, mighty and merciful one." 
 
 To tis Sister Jane : — 
 
 " Saturday night and Sunday morning was my third 
 burial of her. I gave her up again, and the third was 
 more than the first. God alone knows what such a night 
 is. Yet His grace has been more than sufficient, and I 
 hope I have been taught what years have failed to do. 
 
 " You see, dear, what a trying time it is, and you cannot 
 wonder if the tension of the brain should make mine 
 very hot at times. 
 
 " Everything is confusion — night and day mingled." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 " Thursday. — All going on well. 
 
 " I hardly know what I think. The apparent actual 
 
70 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 return to health does not at all affect me as its hopes did, 
 for these quite convulsed me, while the reality only affects 
 me by producing a sense of deep calm and thanksgiving. 
 
 " Certainly this has been without comparison the most 
 solemn period of my life. Never have I so realised son-ow. 
 I am anxious to gather up the fragments in any manner, 
 however confused. I should like, if possible, to meet and 
 sympathize with God in His teaching, lest it he lost — to 
 understand what the will of the Lord is, and what is His 
 loving kindness. 
 
 "God Avas teacliing me (1) where my true life ought 
 to be — ^in Him, and in Him only. (2) The sufficiency of 
 His grace, to support and give peace in the most trying 
 hour. (3) How beautiful His will is — how right it is 
 that His glory should be the grand end of creation, and 
 the sole ambition of the spuit of man. (4) How I de- 
 served to be, not chastised, but punished for sin ; and 
 how hard it was for one who trusted in ' riches ' to enter 
 into the kmgdom, or to sell all and follow Him ! 
 
 " But my comforting thoughts were — 
 
 " (1) God's glory. What w\as right and beautiful in 
 His sight was often very consohng. (2) That Jesus was 
 in the house, and saw all, planned all, and would do all 
 most tenderly, lovingly, and Avisely. (3) That there was 
 no depth to which He had not descended. If I made my 
 bed in hell. He was there. I was much touched by the 
 22nd Psalm, in which, after uttering His own deep sorrow 
 (' My God,' &c.) and recounting how our fathers had trusted 
 God, He says, 'But I am a worm, and no man !' Think 
 of that ! As if His case was too desperate. (4) That 
 patience must have her perfect work, and that faith must 
 be tried and found precious. (5) That God wished me as 
 a child to open my whole heart and tell Him everything. 
 When David was told by Nathan that his child should die, 
 he still prayed to God for its recovery. 'I doubt not,' 
 says Hall so beautifully, ' God His Father took it kindly.' 
 (C) That God was feeling keenly for me, even when afflict- 
 ing me. As I heard of a father Avho used to suffer agony 
 in dressing the wounds of his child ; yet his love alone 
 enabled liim to do it, while putting her to so much pain. 
 
1857—1859- 7' 
 
 " I have met extraordinary and wondrous symj^athy ; it 
 utterly amazes me, and has given me a new and most 
 touching view of my neighbour. Hundreds called to read 
 the daily bulletin which I was obliged to put up. But 
 everyAvhere it was the same. Free -Church people and 
 people of all Churches called ; men I never spoke to 
 stopped me ; cab-drivers, bus-drivers, working men in the 
 streets asked after her with such feeling. I have heard 
 of ministers in Edinburgh praying in public for us. I 
 pray God this may be a lesson for life to make me most 
 tender, meek, kind, and charitable to all men. God, 
 keep my heart soft towards my brethren of mankind. I 
 never could have believed in such unselfishness. And so 
 I have felt its good, for my heart warms to all good men 
 more than ever, and more deeply do I hate and loathe 
 sectarianism. 
 
 " I have had inexpressibly solemn teaching from my own 
 sermons. How solemnly have they preached to me ! Such 
 as the first, on ' Raising of Lazarus,' * and my article 
 written, without thought of this sorrow, for the December 
 number of the Christian Magazine. O my Father, I 
 desire to learn to speak with deep awe and modesty, as one 
 to whom Thou mayest address his own words. 
 
 " The difference between preaching and knowing by ex- 
 perience in affliction, is as great as between being a soldier 
 in peace and fighting at reviews, and a soldier in war and 
 actual battle. 
 
 " How awful the trial is of even the hope of returning 
 ' prosperity.' It is not — Oh no ! — as if my Father grudged 
 to make me happy, or as if affliction was His rule, and not 
 His strange work ; but I know that in His love he has 
 been designing good for me — life, and life more abun- 
 dantly ; that to produce this He has sent sorrow ; that 
 His purpose has not been hid from me, but that I have 
 seen it and approved of its righteousness ; and that in 
 answer to prayers, many and fervent, from His people, 
 who desired first that He should be glorified. He has been 
 pleased to remove (in hope as yet) this great sorrow. I 
 
 * Afterwards published under the title, " The Mystery of Sorrow," 
 in " Parish Papers." 
 
72 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 feel it will be a terrible loss, an abuse of God's grace, 
 a receiving of it in allliction in vain, unless my life is re- 
 baptized, our relationship far more inner and spiritual, and 
 our walk more in the light of heaven. I have Ijeen called 
 to a higher, purer, nobler life. I have had three burials 
 of her, and on each occasion Jesus seemed to say, ' Lovest 
 thou me more than her ? ' and thrice he has given her 
 back, but with the awful reservation, ' FoUow thou me,' 
 ' Feed my sheep.' And now I feel God's grace is required 
 for each day ; for what should my future Ufe be ? not an 
 occasional funeral, but a daily dying ! 
 
 " God omnipotent ! let Thy strength be perfected in 
 my weakness." 
 
 "Friday. — I am still full of anxiety, and feel the rod 
 yet on me. Father, let patience have her perfect work, 
 and prepare me to meet as a child all the changes of Thy 
 providence. Remember I am dust, and help me according 
 to the riches of thy grace ! 
 
 " The same. My hope is in Tliee — in Thee only. God 
 
 sustain. Undertake for me, my Father ! 
 
 -:- % -Vr -j;- ■» -K- 
 
 " The Doctor has just left me, and he says, ' Well, I 
 think all is safe.' This I have been hoping for during the 
 last week. With what feelings do I receive the news ? 
 
 "What means this? I have never shed a tear of joy. 
 I who was Avrung with grief, and could not, in prospect, 
 bear the light of deliverance — who was crushed by the bare 
 idea, ' maybe she will yet get better ! ' Yet I have never 
 felt a throb, or the least of that excitement or tumult or 
 leap of the heart which would seem so natural. Where- 
 fore ? I really know not. Is it the body, and collapse 
 from over excitement ? The Lord knoweth ! But I shall 
 not work myself n^ to an outward form of what might 
 seem to be the ridit thing, but seek to be led by God 
 into that state of spirit which is becoming in His sight. 
 I feel as in a dream. 
 
 "Monday, 21st. — This day Sir George Grey informs me 
 I am made a Chaplain to the Queen." 
 
1857—1859. 73 
 
 To Mr. Waddell (a Member of the Session, on the death of his eldest 
 child) :— 
 
 Saturday, \2tli Dec, 1857. 
 
 "I most deeply feel with you, my afflicted brother. 
 God will enable you by-and-by, if not in the first dark- 
 ness of the affliction, to know that it is a Father who sends 
 the trial ; and from your own tender love to your child you 
 can in some degree realise the deep mystery of a Father's 
 love to yourselves, and in your own hearts see a dim reflec- 
 tion of that love which passeth all understanding. You will 
 remember, too, with new feelings, how His own well-beloved 
 Son was a man of sorrows, how (see the 22nd Psalm) there 
 was no depth but He Himself was in a loAver ; how He is 
 thus able to carry our burdens, understand us, feel for us 
 and with us as a brother. You will be taught also how 
 God is seeking our whole hearts, and will put us to pain 
 even at the moment of our greatest earthly happiness, just 
 because it is then we are most apt to forsake Him as our 
 eternal life, and to seek life in the creature. Nay, He will 
 teach you to see how deep and true that love is which will 
 give pain to those dearly loved in order that they shall 
 not lose a full blessing, but see life more abundantly. 
 
 " I feel assured that God is dealing towards you in great 
 love, though it is hard to see it at first, and most trying to 
 flesh and blood to say Amen to this discipline by the cross. 
 But do not go away sorrowful from Him ! Hold fast your 
 confidence. His purpose is mercy, and good. Seek first 
 of all, that His w^ill should be done in you, His purpose 
 of good be realised by you. Your child is certainly 
 ■\vith One Who is more gentle, tender, and lovinsf than a 
 mother — One Who was a child. Who knows a child's heart, 
 Who was in a mother's arms. Your babe will be trained 
 up in a glorious school ; when you meet she will be a fit 
 companion for you, and rejoice with you for ever. 
 
 " I have myself during these four weeks endured the 
 greatest sorrow I ever experienced in life. I twice gave up 
 my beloved wife to the Lord. I can witness to you of the 
 power of God's grace to give peace in the darkest hour, 
 and of how affliction is indeed sent for our 'profit,' that 
 we might be partakers of His holiness." 
 
7+ LIFE OF NORxMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 ''March 15, 1858. — It is this day twenty years ago 
 that I Avas ordained minister of Loudoun ! I bless God 
 for caUing me to the ministry as He did my father and 
 grandfather before me, and for giving me a place in my 
 nation's Church. Donald is to be ordained on Thursday, 
 and I introduce him on Sunday." 
 
 To the Eev. W. F. Sxea'ENSON (on his recovery from fever) : — 
 
 March 2Ath, 1858. 
 " I do not know from experience what a man's feelings 
 are when coming out of such a death in life as you have 
 passed through, but from what I jDcrsonally know of sorrow, 
 or escapes from danger, there is little of that joy or excite- 
 ment of any kind which most people picture to themselves. 
 I have always felt my nervous system exhausted, my feel- 
 ings listless, my intellect dull, and my moral being shut 
 up to a quiet thankfulness, a simple leanmg on Christ, 
 Avith little more in my mind than that I was nothing and 
 He was all, and no stronger desu-e than henceforth to be 
 kept by Him and in Him. Everything about our Ich-heit 
 is so base, earthy, mean. He must be all in all. Yet how 
 difficult and perplexing a thing to the vain, proud, seK- 
 willed man is the simpUcity which is in Christ !" 
 
 From his Joubnal : — 
 
 " A2?ril 5. — On Sunday night I finished my second 
 winter's course of sermons to the working classes. The 
 church Avas full. I preached about an hour and a half to 
 them. Yet though I had preached twice during the day, 
 I felt as if I could have gone on till midnight. There is 
 something overpoAveringly interesting in seeing fourteen 
 hundred people in their poor clothes drinking in the Avord ! 
 I never preach as I do to them. I feel Avhat it is to be an 
 evangelist. 
 
 " Last night I had a meeting of my old communicants, 
 and a very delightful one it was. 
 
 " I admitted a year ago sixty-nine to tlie communion 
 
1857— i859. 75 
 
 for the first time. These sat down at a separate service, 
 in their working clothes. At the next communion upwards 
 of twenty had got clothes, and joined other churches, as 
 I had no sittings for them. A large number, about twenty, 
 I think, sat down in their Avorldng clothes. At my ordi- 
 nary communion others had got good clothes. Now I find 
 that, with the excej)tion of nine, all are attending church, 
 fit to join at the ordinary communion. These nme are too 
 much in difficulty from Avant of work to get good clothes 
 yet. They will sit down in their working clothes. I have 
 steadfastly kept aloof from giving clothes, lest it should be 
 looked on as a bribe and injure themselves and others. 
 See the result ! 
 
 " I am now collecting for my Mission Church at Kelvin- 
 haugh, and God is greatly blessing me in it. T. 0. A." 
 
 He was made deeply thankful by receiving from 
 the working men themselves, on more than one 
 occasion, such testimonies as the following to the 
 benefit they had derived from his teaching : — 
 
 " . . . . We thank God for having led you in the 
 midst of your multifarious and onerous duties to think of 
 us, and we thank you for having been the willing instru- 
 ment in His hand of first rousing us from our indifference, 
 and leading us to take a manly and straightforward view 
 of our condition. Though the novelty which at first 
 attached to these meetings has passed away, some of us 
 know that their influence for good has been most enduring. 
 .... Not content with bringing us, as it were, to the 
 entrance of the Saviour's Church and leaving us to go in 
 or return as we pleased, you have led us into the great 
 congregation of His saints on earth, and have invited us to 
 take our places among our fellow-behevers at the Lord's 
 table, so that we might enjoy similar privileges with them. 
 Those of us who have accepted this invitation have nothing 
 of this world's goods to offer you in return, but we shall 
 retain a life-long gratitude for your kindness — a gratitude 
 which shall be continued when we shall meet in that 
 
76 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 eternal world wliich lies beyond the grave "We 
 
 beg you will accept of these expressions of gratitude in 
 place of ' the silver and gold ' of which ' we have none,' 
 and we subscribe ourselves, with much regard, 
 
 "The WoiiKiNG Men." 
 
 A working man, who signs his own name ' on 
 behalf of a number of others,' writes — 
 
 " We are not aware whether you know of any case in 
 which your labours have been successful in arousing the 
 careless, and in effecting reformation in character and dis- 
 position ; if not, we can assure you that such instances 
 are not rare, as even in our own neighbourhood many 
 have been brought, through your instrumentality under God, 
 to bethink themselves and mend then' ways." 
 
 From his Johrn.vl : — 
 
 '' Airvil 30. — The University of Glasgow has this day 
 conferred the honour on me of the decfree of D.D. How 
 sad it makes me ! I feel as if they had stamped me with 
 old age, and that it was a great cataract in the stream lead- 
 ing more rapidly to ' the unfathomable gulf where all is 
 still.' And it is so. I have at best but a short time for 
 work. my God, brace every nerve of my soul by Thy 
 mighty Sj^irit that I may glorify Thee on earth, and as a 
 faithful servant redeem the time and finish the work which 
 Thou hast given me to do ! " 
 
 To the Eev. J. E. Gumming : — 
 
 2ni June, 1858. 
 
 " 1 have not myself found travelling congenial to much 
 inner work. The outer Avorld of persons and things I 
 always relished so intensely that I required an extra effort 
 to keep to quiet reading and prayer. One possesses such 
 an ' abundance of things,' that they are apt to become ' the 
 life ' for the time. But I doubt not that the sobriety of 
 weak health may act as a counterpoise, keeping the soul 
 
1857—1859- 77 
 
 in hourly remembrance of its trie and abiding life. I 
 have no doubt you will find a blessing in going thus to 
 'rest awhile.' It is good to be made to feel how God's 
 work can go on Avithout us, and to be able to review from 
 without our past work, and to be more cast on God Him- 
 self, and thus be more emptied of our own vain selves. 
 
 " When we are weak, then are Ave strong. The least 
 are the greatest. I pray you may CA^ery day be draAvn 
 nearer Christ, and return to us stronger in body and soul." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 " June 3, again ! — I am now forty-six, and the future 
 uncertain ! And so this life of mine, Avhich seems to me 
 about to begin, is fast ending ! I declare it makes the 
 perspiration break out on my brow. Oh, cursed idleness, 
 desultory study, Avant of hard reading and accurate scholar- 
 ship Avhen young,— this has been a grievous evil, a heavy 
 burthen to me all my life ! I have Avanted tools for my 
 mental poAA^ers. Had my resources been trained by art, so 
 that they could have been Avisely directed during my past 
 life, I feel that I could have done something to have made 
 me look back Avith more satisfaction on these bygone years. 
 
 " my Father, if I but felt assured that I should be a 
 little child, then Avould I never mourn the loss of my first 
 childhood, nor fear the coming on of my old age ! 
 
 " Glory to Thee now and for ever that I have been born 
 twice in Thy kingdom 1" 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD (during her absence Avith his family in the 
 country) : — 
 
 The Study, July 2Gfh, 1858. 
 
 " Why do you leave me here to be devoured with rats 
 and grief ? The house is horrible. I am afraid of ghosts. 
 The doors creak in a way that indicates a clear con- 
 nection Avith the unseen world. There are noises too. 
 How sloAV must Hades be if spirits find Woodlands Terrace 
 at this season more exciting ! Hoav idle they must be if 
 to frighten a parson is their most urgent work ! And yet 
 
78 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 on m}' honour I believe there is one going at this moment 
 uj) the stairs." 
 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 " Se2of ember 6. — I have been too busy to be at rest with 
 my family at Elie. I start to-day with Leitch ""' for a dash 
 into Switzerland. May God guide me and keep me holy 
 and wise, that I may return home fit in mind and body 
 tor my winter work !" 
 
 To Mrs. Macleod : — 
 
 Paeis. 
 
 " Drove to Bois de Boulogne, paid considerably, and 
 saw nothing but the driver's back. My money goes as 
 usual — like snow. Mammon was no doubt a devil ; he 
 enters into the coin, and it rushes down steep places for 
 ever into the abyss, and never returns. Best love to my 
 mother, who, were she here, would go on the stage, or 
 think she was dead, or if not, that the Champs Elys^es 
 were theologically so." 
 
 Zimicn, Friday, 10th Sepfemler, 1858. 
 " At Basle I called for Auberlen. We spent the rest of 
 our time in the Institution for training Missionaries, and 
 had all my principles confirmed and illustrated. 
 
 * The late Principal Leitch. 
 
1857—1859- 
 
 79 
 
 "Had a most exquisite drive by railway to this place. 
 As we were crossing a valley, the range of Bernese Alps 
 Imrst suddenly on our sight, every mountain-side and peak 
 gleaming on their western sides with the intense furbished 
 gold we saw at Mont Blanc. I gave a cry of wonder and 
 joy that started the whole carriage — all but a Cockney, 
 who kept reading all the time a Swiss guide-book. I shall 
 never forget that second introduction to the Alps. AVhen 
 we arrived at Zurich we drove to the old hotel ; but we 
 did not look fine enough, and only a double-bedded room 
 was offered, and refused. Angry at this, I would not go 
 to the Baur, but came out at the first hotel the 'bus 
 stopped at. This Gasthof, you must know, presents to the 
 Gasse but one enormous gable with seven stories, covered 
 by a projecting roof. Within, it contains a combination of 
 short stairs, passages, kitchens, bedrooms, and eating-rooms, 
 utterly indescribable as to their relative positions. 
 
 " There is a daily paper with the names of all the hotels 
 and their guests. I see in ours ' 8 Militdr.' These are 
 common soldiers ; the town is full of them, and a dozen are 
 billeted in our lobb}^ I hear the drummer practising in 
 the Speise Saal. At first I was disposed to be sulky, but 
 
 Boss so thoroughly enjoys it, and is so thankful for having 
 come to this sort of hotel, that he has brought me to his 
 own mind. My window commands a glorious view of the 
 lake, and the roofs of half the houses. Well, I find I 
 am nowhere so happy as at home. Yery truly I say that, 
 even here. My own fireside and my home parish work 
 are the circles within which is my earthly Paradise." 
 
8o LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Eagatz, \2.ih Ppjpte^nher. 
 
 "The baths of rfeffers are, I think, in their way, the 
 most wonderful scene I ever beheld. Conceive a huge 
 fissure about five hundred feet deep ; the edges at the top 
 uniting like two saws — now in contact, and then an open 
 hole through which you see the blue sky and the intense 
 green trees waving in light some hundreds of feet above 
 you — fifty feet beloAv, the raging stream. It is a wondrous 
 gorge that! We ascended by a zig-zag path about a mile 
 higher, and came np to the pastures. Oh ! what a sight 
 of green uplands, villages, church steeples, ranges of 
 precipices, snowy peaks, mountains lighted up with the 
 setting sun, and what tinkling of hundreds of goat-bells ! 
 I could have sat down and wept. As it Avas, I lifted up my 
 heart in prayer, and blessed God for this one glorious 
 sight, and I felt I could retm'n home with thankfulness." 
 
 Cannstadt, 2Mh Si^temher, 1858. 
 
 " I preached yesterday forenoon in Stuttgart, and in the 
 afternoon here. The English clergyman read the Hturgy 
 in the morning. The congregation excellent ; afternoon 
 crammed. I know not when I felt a Sabbath more truly 
 peaceful, happy, and profitable to myself, and I hope and 
 believe also to others. Walked by moonlight along the 
 old street, stood before the house, went to my old ijost '"' 
 beyond Hermann's Hotel ; recalled all the past year we 
 were there with its dark sorrows and great joys, the past 
 eight years with its constant sunlight ; prayed, and looked 
 up to the old stars which shone on me, and brought me 
 then such true light in the same spot. 
 
 " I had great delight in preaching, and had such a 
 vivid realisation of our dear one's life in heaven and his 
 hearty realisation of that ' kmgdom and glory,' which I 
 feebly attempted to express." 
 
 From his Jotjenal : — 
 
 "September 27th, 1858. — I liave this day returned, 
 refireshed and invigorated in mind, spirit, and body. 
 
 * The point to which he and John Mackintosh walked every day. 
 
1857—1859- 8i 
 
 " My route was London, Paris, Basle, Zurich, Wallenstadt, 
 Ragatz, Pfeffers, Bellinzona, Isola Bella, back by St. Goth- 
 ard, Lucerne, Zurich, Cannstadt, Heidelberg, Mannheim, 
 the Rhine, Rotterdam, Leith. Time, three weeks. Cost, 
 £23 10s. Gain, undying memories, health, and happiness." 
 
 " November 2. — On my return I found the command 
 of the Queen awaiting me to preach again at Balmoral. 
 Preached in peace and without notes. After dinner the 
 Queen sent for me. She always strikes me as possessed 
 of singular penetration, firmness, and independence, and 
 very real. She was personally singularly kind, and I never 
 spoke my mind more frankly to any one who was a stranger 
 and not on an equal footing. 
 
 " . . . . The agitation renewed anent non-intrusion. 
 No reform requiring an Act of Parliament will interest me 
 unless it unites Presbyterianism in Scotland. That is the 
 thing to be sought." 
 
 "January 16. 's birthday. God bless my 
 
 child ! Make her simple, earnest, true, and, above all 
 other things in the universe, Father, give her love to 
 Thee, that in all her difficulties she may consult Thee and 
 yield to what her conscience tells her to be right, that in 
 all her trials she may trust Thee and honour Thee by 
 grace, and that she may ever seek to please her Saviour in 
 soul, spirit, and body, which are His ! Hear us, our God, 
 who daily pray for our beloved children whom Thou hast 
 given us in Thy great love. Amen!" 
 
 The centenary celebration of the birth of Eobert 
 Burns created immense excitement in almost every 
 region of the earth where Scotchmen could congre- 
 gate, and in the poet's native land was the signal for 
 the outbreak of a bitter war between the pulpit and 
 the press. There were fanatics on both sides. Ad- 
 mirers of the poet would not brook exception being 
 taken to their hero-worship ; this provoked, on the 
 opposite side, unmeasured abuse of his character and 
 
 VOL. II. o 
 
82 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 iufliicnco. The sacreJ name of religion Avas so con- 
 stantly invoked in the quarrel, that no clergyman 
 could take part in the festival without risk to his 
 repiitation. Korraan Macleod, however, felt it would 
 be unmanly not to speak what he believed, and, ac- 
 cordingly, accepted the invitation which had been 
 sent him to appear at the Glasgow Celebration. As 
 he was the only clergyman on the platform, his 
 presence was greeted with unusual cheering. Every 
 word he uttered in praise of the poet was, as might 
 have been expected, loudly applauded ; but as he had 
 come to utter his convictions, he was quite prepared 
 for the storm of liissiug, mingled with cheers, which 
 arose as he adverted, delicately but firmly, to those 
 features of the poet's productions which every reli- 
 gious mind must deplore. His speech was a vindi- 
 cation of his own position as a Scotchman and a 
 clergyman, and before he concluded the audience 
 showed how heartily they appreciated his indepen- 
 dence and honesty. 
 
 " There are two things," he said, " which to me make 
 Bums sufficiently memorable. One is, his noble protest 
 for the independence and dignity of humanity, as expressed, 
 for example, in that heroic song, ' A man's a man for a' 
 that.' Another is, his intense nationality — a noble sen- 
 timent, S2:)ringing, like a plant deeply rooted for ages in 
 the soil, and bearing fruit which nourishes the manliest 
 virtues of a people. Few men have done for any country 
 in this res2)ect what Burns has done for Scotland. He has 
 made our JJoric for ever jooetical. Everything in our land, 
 touched with the wand of his genius, will for ever retain 
 the new interest and beauty Avhich he has imparted to it. 
 Kever will the ' banks and braes of bonnie Doon ' cease to 
 be ' fresh and fair,' nor the ' birks of Abcrfeldy ' to hang 
 
1857—1859- 83 
 
 their tresses in tlie bright atmosphere of his song. He 
 has even persuaded Scotchmen ' 0' a' the airts the wind 
 can blaw ' most dearly to 'lo'e the west,' though it comes 
 loaded to us, who live in the west, only with the soft 
 favours of a ' Scotch mist.' So possessed are even rail- 
 way directors and rough mechanics by his presence and 
 liis power, that they send ' Tarn o' Shanter ' and ' Souter 
 Johnnie ' as locomotives, roaring and whistling through the 
 land that is called by his name, and immortalised by his 
 genius. How marvellously has he welded the hearts of 
 Scotchmen throughout the world. Without him they would, 
 no doubt, be united by the ordinary bonds of a common 
 country that cannot anywhere be forgotten — a common 
 tongue that cannot anywhere be easily mistaken — and by 
 mercantile pursuits in which they cannot anywhere be 
 wanted. But still these ties would be like the cold hard 
 cable that connects the Old and New World beneath the 
 Atlantic. The songs of Burns are the electric sparks which 
 flash along it and give it life ; and ' though seas between 
 us may be cast,' these unite heart and heart, so that as 
 long as they exist, Scotchmen can never forget ' auld 
 acquaintance,' nor the ' days o' lang syne.' And yet, 
 how can a clergyman, of all men, forget or fail to express 
 his deep sorrow on such an occasion as the present for 
 some things that Burns has written, and which deserve the 
 uncompromising condemnation of those who love him 
 best ? I am not called upon to pass any judgment on him 
 as a man, but only as a writer ; and with reference to 
 some of his poems, from my heart I say it — for his own 
 sake, for the sake of my country, for the sake of righteous- 
 ness more than all — would God they were never written, 
 never printed, and never read ! And I should rejoice to 
 see, as the result of these festivals in honour of Burns, a 
 centenary edition of his poems, from which everything 
 would be excluded which a Christian father could not read 
 aloud in his family circle, or the Christian cottar on his 
 ' Saturday night ' to his sons and daughters. One thing I 
 feel assured of, is, that righteously to condemn whatever 
 is inconsistent with purity and piety, while it cannot lessen 
 one ray of his genius, is at once the best proof we can give 
 
 G 2 
 
84 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 of our regard for Lis memory If his spirit is cognizant of 
 what is done upon earth, most certainly such a judgment 
 must be in accordance with its most solemn conviction and 
 most earnest wishes."* 
 
 Some influential members of the Presbytery of 
 Glasgow at tliis time moved an ' overture' (as a formal 
 representation is called) to the General Assembly on 
 the subject of Lay Patronage. At once perceiving the 
 importance of the question thus raised, he supported 
 the proposal in a long speech, and it is interesting, in 
 the light of more recent Scottish ecclesiastical history, 
 to notice the care with which he had already weighed 
 the difficulties besetting the policy, in which he was 
 afterwards to take a conspicuous lead. 
 
 " .... I dare not conceal my own honest convictions 
 of the extreme difficulty of getting a hearing in Parliament, 
 a conviction strengthened when I think that, in 1843, we 
 
 ♦ He afterwards received the following characteristic letter of 
 thanks from the late able and lamented Dr. Duncan, Professor of 
 Hebrew in the Free Chiu-ch College, Edinbui-gh. 
 
 29iA January, 1859. 
 
 " I have just read with delight the extract from your speech at the 
 Burns Centenary Meeting. The works of Burns are a power whose 
 influence is to bo felt, and will continue to be so, in this countrj- and 
 beyond it ; a very mixed one it is true. In all such things we are bid 
 to choose the good (thankfully, as all good is of God) and refuse the 
 evil. ' Abhor that which is evil and cleave to that which is good.' I 
 can deeply sympaihizo with the moral tone of feeling which turns from 
 the whole with the loathing which the smell of the dead fly causes — 
 the miasma which it spreads. I cannot, however, think that the zeal 
 of some ' abounds in all wisdom.' To abolish Burns is not possible, 
 and it is pleasing to think that the ' non omnis moriar ' may be applied 
 to our great lyrical poot, not only with safety, but to so great ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 " I beseech you prosecute the idea of printing a purified centenary 
 edition. The pearls must be rescued. Why should our children not 
 have them clear of the impure dross or sand, and placed in as fine a 
 casket as the hallowed genius of the nation can produce ?" 
 
i8s7 — 1859- 85 
 
 had far stronger claims to be heard than now, and when 
 the evils calling for legislative enactment were far more 
 pressing. I argue from the general temper in which Par- 
 liament legislates ; the whole tendency of legislation in 
 Parliament, as you will see from year to year, being not 
 for sections of the community. But if Parliament is will- 
 ing and ready to hear us, I for one would most assuredly 
 be deeply thankful for a legislative measure that should 
 enable us to cure the evil. 
 
 "There is another way of looking at this case, which 
 seems perhaps to be the more important, when regarded 
 with reference to Scotland. Many people say, ' What have 
 we to do with other Churches, and with the opinions of the 
 Free Church, or of any other Church? We have to do with 
 ourselves.' I say we sink down to be mere sectarians when 
 we say we have only to do with ourselves and not with the 
 country. I say, as a National Establishment, we have to 
 do with the nation ; as a National Scotch Establishment 
 we have to do -with Scotchmen ; and I should never like 
 to hear any great question discussed merely with reference 
 to its relationship to our Church, and not in its relation- 
 ship to our country. When Ave look at this question in 
 reference to the whole of Scotland, I think it is still more 
 complicated. I believe that the welfare of Scotland, as 
 a whole, is bound up with Presbyterianism. Scotland, as 
 a country, will rise or fall with its Presbyterianism. It is 
 warped into its whole historical past, into the hearts 
 of our people, as not one other element in our national 
 greatness or history is. The second point, I think, you 
 will agree upon, is that the interests of Presbyterianism in 
 Scotland are bound up with the Estabhshed Church. I 
 do not say the Established Church exclusively, but I say the 
 Established Church inclusively. The Presbyterianism of 
 Scotland might be the better of a vigorous Presbyterianism 
 always lying outside of the National Establishment, but I 
 think it would be much worse if there was no National 
 Establishment at all. Now what is the present state of our 
 Church in reference to Scotland generally ? Episcopacy 
 has unfortunately alienated a very great number of the 
 upper classes, not from the Church of Scotland merelv. but 
 
86 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 from the Presbyterianism of Scotland. I would wish tn 
 talk gently and kindly on this subject. I am very un- 
 willing to attribute motives. There are many Episcopalians 
 whose families have been so from generation to generation. 
 Many of these have never belonged to the Church of Scot- 
 land, and are yet most hearty friends of the Established 
 Church ; some of them are among her kindest and most 
 generous friends. There are others, again, who have become 
 Episcopalians from the fact of English education ; and there 
 are others who have become so from — I hardly know how to 
 express my meaning, but perhaps a little flunlceyism would 
 not be a bad term. While there is a great mass of educated 
 gentlemen of this persuasion, many of whom are my per- 
 sonal friends, and for whom I entertain the greatest possible 
 respect, there are, along with these, clergy and laity, who are 
 antagonistic for conscience sake, not only to the Church 
 of Scotland, but to Presbyterianism. Looking, again, to 
 Presbyterians, we see that there is a great number of the 
 middle classes who do not belom? to the Established 
 Church, and who are even antagonistic to it. In these 
 circumstances, I do not myself see how the Established 
 Church can remain as she is, and continue to be the National 
 Church. There is no use of entering on the question whether 
 it will last your day or mine, but it is perfectly clear that, 
 as a National Church, if she is to represent the Presby- 
 terianism of the nation, this state of things cannot last 
 Should we not dej^lore, for the sake of Presbyterianism 
 in Scotland, and for the sake of all Churches, that this 
 noble old Presbyterian Establishment should be pennanently 
 weakened, or should fall ? Presbyterianism is linked in- 
 separably with the holy memories of the Reformation. 
 Every Reformed Church in every part of Europe — let 
 me say so to Episcopalians — took the Presbyterian form, 
 either in fict or in theor}^ ; in France, in Spain, in Italy, 
 in the National Church of Germany, in Switzerland, in 
 Holland, in Sweden, and Norway, this was the case. Are Ave 
 now to have no representative National Presbyterian Chun^^h 
 speaking the English language — and this, too, in the present 
 state of Episcopacy and Romanism ? ^Yell, if we are not to 
 be permanently weakened as a National Establishment, we 
 
1857— 1?59- 87 
 
 must gather the masses of Presbyterians now lying beyond 
 our pale. In one word, I think it is the duty of our Church, 
 as a National Church, to entertain not only privately in 
 our hearts, but publicly, the question of union with the 
 Free Church. I assume that such a union is essential for 
 their welfare as for ours. We should cease without it to be 
 national in the strongest sense of the word, and they would 
 cease to be national in their principles, and sink down to be 
 Voluntaries, instead of retaining the convictions and prin- 
 ciples on which they left the Establishment. I do not think 
 we can exist worthily as a great National Church unless some 
 such union takes place. But before that union is possible, 
 there must, in the nature of things, be legislative enact- 
 ment. It is not possible with the present state of our law 
 with reference to the induction of ministers, not to speak 
 of our laws afiecting spiritual independence. The Free 
 Church men have justified to the whole world the serious- 
 ness and strength of their convictions on these points ; 
 and if we are to be as one again, these convictions assuredly 
 must be respected by us — at all events they themselves 
 will respect them." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 "February 11. — A girl born to us. We give her to 
 the Lord. Bless His name ! 
 
 "March 12. — 'We give her to the Lord,' and this 
 night it would seem as if the Lord would take her to 
 Himself She has been seized with cholera and seems 
 very weak. 
 
 " March 15. — The anniversary of my ordination twenty- 
 one years ago ! I have attained my majority as a minister. 
 Praise the Lord for it ! 
 
 " In proportion as I realise how the Lord has made me 
 an instrument of good, and ever heard my prayer, and 
 blessed my miserable labours ; in that proportion do I 
 feel how deep and real is my sin. Where has been the 
 habitual yearning for souls, the cherishing them as a nurse 
 her children ; the constant prayer for them ; the carrying 
 their burden ; the prompt action ; the devotedness ; the 
 
88 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 love to Christ always ? I truly feel that the thief on the 
 cross owes no more to God's grace than I as a minister do. 
 My sms and defects as a minister would overwhelm me, 
 unless I believed in that glorious atonement made for the 
 worst : justification by faith alone. Father, in Christ, 
 forgive thine unworthy servant ! Enter not, enter not 
 into judgment, for he camiot out of Christ be justified ! 
 I plead Thy free grace alone. 
 
 " Jily dear babe now seems fast approaching her end. 
 I baptized her myself on Sabbath morning. 
 
 " How strano-e that she knows no one in the universe ! 
 Yet how known, how cared for, how beloved ! How 
 different will her education be from ours ! Yet I do not 
 envy it now. The old earth, where Christ Himself learned 
 obedience as a child, is the grandest school. 
 
 " 20^/i. — Now, though not out of great danger, there 
 is hope. It has been a most blessed time ! We gave her 
 to the Lord, I believe, sincerely. We give her still, as far 
 as Ave know our hearts. We prayed beside her ; but, with 
 the yearning implanted in our hearts by our Father, we 
 cried to Him to spare her ; and God knoweth how I feel it 
 is His doing, and in answer to prayer, if she is spared. 
 
 " God bless my sermons to-day on Missions in St. 
 Andrew's and Barony ! Hear me. Lord, for my heart is 
 in it !" 
 
 There were few important questions broiiglit before 
 the Assembly of 1859 on which he did not speak at 
 length ; most of them touched on matters in which he 
 had special interest. The subject of the revival, 
 which followed on the great American awakening of 
 1858, was then rousing attention in Ireland and in 
 many parts of Scotland. lie never doubted the possi- 
 bility of a great outpouring of the Spirit, and, at the 
 beginning of the movement, he wrote and preached 
 much in its favour. Later phases of it compelled 
 him, however, to modify his expectations as to its 
 
i8s7 — 1859. 8g 
 
 results ; but the incredulity with which the very idea 
 of a RcAdval was regarded by many of the clergy, 
 grieved him even more than the exaggerations of 
 over-zealous supporters. Wnen the question came 
 before the Assembly of 1859, it did so in a shape 
 which excited in him a feeling of positive indigna- 
 tion. A minister labouring in a poor parish in Aber- 
 deen, had permitted several earnest laymen to address 
 his people from the pulpit; and the Presbytery, 
 avoiding any expression of opinion as to the character 
 of their teaching or its results, had thought proper to 
 rebuke their more zealous brother on the technical 
 ground of having allowed laymen to speak in church. 
 This unsympathetic method of putting down an 
 earnest, and, at worst, a mistaken attempt to do good, 
 touched Norman Macleod to the quick. 
 
 "A few Christian men," he snid, "came to Aberdeen 
 and were brought within the sacred walls of one of the 
 churches there. He did not know whetlier they preached 
 a sermon or not ; he did not know whether they stood in a 
 pulpit fifteen feet, or on a platform seven feet high, but 
 he knew that they addressed people upon the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ, and that as Christian men they spoke from 
 their hearts to thousands. 
 
 " The only fault found Avith these men seemed to be 
 that they addressed immortal souls on the truth of Chris- 
 tianity within the walls of a church, but he had been 
 brought up m the belief that the Church of Scotland 
 attached no peculiar sacredness to stone and lime. It 
 had been pleaded at the bar that these men might go to 
 the street. But there were many laws that were tolerable 
 only because they had liberty occasionally to break them ; 
 and surely all Church laws must subserve the one o-rand 
 end for which all Churches exist. They might have dec^ency, 
 order, regularly appointed licentiates, and regularly ordained 
 
90 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 men, and death all tho Avliile. This was not a time, whe>» 
 there was so much necessity for increased spiritual life, for 
 the General Assembly to occupy a whole night in finding 
 fault because a minister permits a layman to preach the 
 gospel from a pulpit." 
 
 He also spoke upon Home Missions, and in the 
 course of his speech took occasion to repudiate some 
 of the accounts that were commonly given by social 
 and religious Eeformers of the condition of Glasgow, 
 and of the state of the working classes there. No one 
 knew better than he the characteristic faults of those 
 classes ; but he emphatically denied the exaggerated 
 statements as to their habits, with which sentimental 
 proposals for their improvement were often supported. 
 It must also be confessed that he was hurt by the 
 manner in which his views had been misrepresented 
 by that advanced section of abstainers who were ready 
 to brand a man as an abettor of drunkenness if he did 
 not inculcate their special opinions. His tract on 
 Temperance had been more than once most unjustly 
 handled by these people, and partly provoked by such 
 criticisms, but still more as vindicating for working 
 men the liberty which was not denied to other classes, 
 he spoke with a warmth and franl^ness which startled 
 many. 
 
 " The city of Glasgow has somehow or other got such a 
 very bad name for its weather and its morality, that one 
 would suppose, from the statements made in some quarters, 
 we sat soaking in water all the day, and soaking in whisky 
 all the night ; that we were engaged in cheating our neigh- 
 bours on week days, and on Sabbath-day sat sullcy and 
 gloomy in the house. There has been a great tendency 
 to exaggeration in describing the condition of the work- 
 
i857 — 1859- 91 
 
 ing classes. If people wish to advance teetotalism, they 
 generally begin by showing what a dreadful set of black- 
 guards the working classes are. When the question of 
 the suffrage is brought above board, and if men do not 
 wish to concede it, they say, ' Oh, you cannot grant it to 
 the working classes.' These poor fellows are struck right 
 and left, and the impression is given that in such a place 
 as Glasgow there is nothing in the East-end but an enor- 
 mous mass sunk in degradation, while, in the Terraces, and 
 Streets, and Squares of the West-end there is a population 
 almost entirely intelligent and pious. 
 
 " Do not let us fall into exaggeration. We have an 
 enormous mass of ignorant people in Glasgow. We have 
 a mass of Irish, neither under the care of priest or pres- 
 byter, and in a wretched, degraded condition ; but I feel 
 there is a vast number of steady, sober. God-fearing men 
 amongst our workins: classes who are never heard of, and 
 who, whilst these drunken fellows may be creating a dis- 
 turbance in the streets, are sitting quietly by their fire- 
 sides. Generally speaking, I must say the working classes 
 are very like the upper classes. I find vulgar, dissi- 
 pated, and indecent people in both classes. I must also 
 state that the working classes have a respect for the clergy, 
 and will always receive one with respect, provided he treats 
 them with respect. But if one goes among the working 
 classes he ought not to do so as if arranging for Popish 
 controversies, or as a controversialist coming from one 
 class to another. I am not going to argue the question, 
 though I am ready to do so, but I hesitate not to say, as 
 the result of my observation of Missions to Romanists as 
 hitherto conducted in cities, that so far from their making 
 Roman Catholics and the lower classes more accessible to 
 the clergy, they have raised up barriers in their way which 
 it is extremely difficult to overcome. So much do I 
 believe this, that in my preaching to the working men at 
 night, I tell them I am not going to attack Romanism or 
 Popery, because that doing so has driven men from the 
 gospel. I am going to preach the gospel only. And I 
 know that Roman Catholics do come, brought by those 
 who attend regularly. I am very glad that it is proposed 
 
92 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 to combine the anti-popery agency with the home-mission 
 agency, and I hope the Missionaries will go earnestly and 
 lovingly amongst the peojile as brethren to bretliren, not 
 in the attitude of saying, * You are wrong and we are 
 right,' or ' We only want you to come from the Popish to 
 the Protestant Church.' .... 
 
 " In regard to the means taken to educate the working 
 classes we are too apt to forget that man is a compound 
 being, a social being, and that it is important to help him 
 to better house accommodation, and a better knowledge of 
 natural laws. Above all, do not assume too high a standard 
 as to the little luxuries enjoyed by working men. Some 
 say the working man, in order to be temperate, must 
 not taste a single drop of fermented liquor ; and people, 
 who have themselves their wine, may be heard talking 
 wisely about the horror of the Avorking man having his 
 glass of beer or porter. I cannot talk in this way. I 
 should feel it hypocritical. I would rather say to them : 
 ' God has given it to you, don't take it as from the devil, 
 but use it as from God. Don't take it in the publichouses. 
 If 3'ou wish to use such things, do so frankly, and as in the 
 presence of God, at your own fireside, or before family 
 worship, and if the minister comes in offer him some, and 
 don't be ashamed.' Do not let me be misunderstood as to 
 what I say about temperance, because, remember, there is 
 a tendency among a certain type of teetotalers to spread 
 as facts all that can be brought against any clergyman 
 who dares to lift up his voice against what threatens to be 
 a terrific tyranny in Scotland. Now mark what I do say. 
 Do not suppose that when visiting the houses of working 
 men I am in the habit of taking anj^thing from th(Mn ; I 
 never do so. Nor would I be understood to say that I 
 would not seek to make teetotalers among the working 
 classes. When I find that any of them drink to excess, I 
 try to make them resolve to be teetotal ; but I put it in 
 this form : ' Christ desires temperance, and if you cati't be 
 temperate without being teetotal, then you must be teeto- 
 tal.' In the same way some people, in order to save the 
 working man from extravagance, say, ' Oh, this is dreadful ; 
 you have only from sixteen to seventeen shillings a week 
 
i857 — 1859. 93 
 
 and yet I ha , e more than once found you Avith a pipe in 
 your mouth.' Now why should he not smoke his pipe ? 
 Do you imagine we are to have the confidence of the work- 
 ing classes if we speak to them in that fashion ? I would 
 rather say to him, ' I'll give you tobacco to keep your pipe 
 lighted, I like one myself.' In order also to have work- 
 ing men keep the Sabbath, some are in the habit of speak- 
 ing to them against walking on the Sabbath, as if they 
 were terrified to give them that liberty. But why should 
 they wish to be less liberal than God Who has made us 
 and knows our frame ? Let us be fair and honest with 
 the working man, and you will find him display no 
 tendency to pervert your teaching if you deal with him in 
 a spirit of liberality and in accordance with the laws of God 
 properly interpreted. But when you are less liberal than 
 God and draw the bow too much in one direction, it will 
 rebound all the more on the other." 
 
 He concluded a long speech by expressing his con- 
 viction that the grand instrument for elevating the 
 working classes, and all classes, is the gospel. Along 
 with the gospel, many plans of doing good might 
 succeed ; without the gospel they would certainly fail. 
 
 To Miss Scott Monceieff : — 
 
 " I am sorry to say that my old sciatica has returned, 
 which makes me quite a cripple m mind and body, and 
 neither of these instruments can be well spared by the 
 minister of the Barony. I had an American clergyman 
 breakfasting with me yesterday, and he tells me that the 
 Revival goes on like a great flood, ever deepening and 
 widening without almost an eddy or a wave ; churches 
 full every morning at eight in all the great cities, and life 
 universally diffused. If this is fnjm man, he is not so 
 corrupt — not a smner, but a saint in his disposition. If 
 it is from the Devil — he is not the Devil we have taken 
 him for. But it is from God, and therefore to be desired 
 and prayed for. My American friend will address a prayer 
 
94 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 meeting in my church on the subject. Surely Scotland 
 will share the blessing." 
 
 To the Eev. W. Fleming Stevenson : — 
 
 Septemler I'th, 1859. 
 
 " I have every intention of going to Ireland when the 
 seed has reached the blade or full ear of corn. I think 
 I shall then be able to have a truer understandincr of 
 the work. In the meantime I heartily recognise it as a 
 work of God. Praise Him for it ! The one unquestioned 
 fact of universal religious earnestness is itself a grand 
 preparation of the soil for the seed. We must sow with 
 all our might. Who need a revival more than some of 
 us ministers ?" 
 
The Back Study. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 1860—61. 
 
 AS the next twelve years were the last, so they 
 were the most laborious and most important, of 
 his life. In addition to his onerous pastoral duties, 
 he now accepted the editorship of Good Words. The 
 voluminous correspondence which that office entailed 
 necessarily occupied much of his time ; but, besides 
 numerous minor articles, he contributed to its pages, 
 between 1860 and 1870, 'The Gold Thread,' 'The 
 Old Lieutenant,' 'Parish Papers,' 'The Highland 
 Parish,' 'Character Sketches,' 'The Starling,' 'East- 
 ward,' and ' Peeps at the Far East.' For the greater 
 part of the same period he. presided over the India 
 Mission of the Church ; and during its course he had 
 more than once to engage in painful controversies on 
 public questions, which, to a man of his tempera- 
 ment, were more exhausting than the hardest work. 
 
96 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 lEe had removed during tlie previous year from 
 Woodlands Terrace to his future home at 204, Bath 
 Street ; and here, as a refuge from interruption, he 
 fitted up a little library over an outside laundry, 
 which was, to the last, his favourite nook for study. 
 His writing table was placed at a small window 
 which he had opened at a corner of the room, where 
 he could enjoy a glimpse of sky over the roofs of 
 the surrounding houses. It was at the best only a 
 spot of heaven that was visible, but, such as it was, 
 it afforded him some refreshment when, in the midst 
 of his work, he caught a passing gleam of cloudland. 
 
 Those who were admitted to this ' back study ' 
 will remember the quick look with which he used 
 to turn from his desk to scan his visitor, and the 
 unfailing heartiness with which, even in his busiest 
 hours, the pen was cast aside, the small meerschaum 
 lighted, and throwing himself on a couch covered 
 with his old travelling buffalo robe, he entered upon 
 the business in hand. But the continual interrup- 
 tions to which he was exposed* and the pressure of 
 literary engagements gradually drove him into the 
 habit of working far into the night, and as he 
 seldom failed to secure at least an hour for devo- 
 tional reading before breakfast, his sleep was curtailed, 
 to the great injuiy of his health. 
 
 * Every forenoon there was quite a levee at his house, consisting 
 chiefly of the poor seeking his aid on all kinds of business, relevant 
 and irrelevant. On these occasions his valued beadle, Mr. Lawson, 
 acted as master of the ceremonies. One day when Norman was over- 
 whelmed with other work, and the door-bell seemed never to cease 
 ringing, some one said, ' I believe that bell is possessed by an evil 
 Bpirit.' ' Certainly,' ho answered. ' Don't you know the Prince 
 of evil spirits is called ^e/Zzebub — fi"om his thus torturing hard- 
 worked ministers P' 
 
i86o — 6i. 97 
 
 Good Words was not projected by him bnt by the 
 publishers, Mr. Strahan and his partner Mr. Isbister 
 When Mr. Strahan (to whose enterprise and genius 
 as a publisher the magazine greatly owed its success) 
 asked him to become its editor he for a time declined 
 to accept a task involving so much labour and anxiety. 
 But he had long cherished the conviction that a 
 periodical was greatly required of the type sketched 
 by Dr. Arnold, which should embrace as great a 
 variety of articles as those which give deserved popu- 
 larity to publications professedly secular, but having 
 its spirit and aim distinctively Christian. The gulf 
 which separated the so-called religious and the secular 
 press was, in his opinion, caused by the narrowness 
 and literary weakness of even the best religious maga- 
 zines. He could see no good reason for leaving the 
 wholesome power of fiction, the discussion of questions 
 in physical and social science, together with all the 
 humour and fun of life, to serials which excluded 
 Christianity from their pages. His experience while 
 conducting the Edmhiirgh Christian Magazine served 
 only to deepen his desire to have an ably written 
 periodical which would take up a manly range of 
 topics, and while embracing contributions of a directly 
 religious character, should consist mainly of articles 
 'on common subjects, written,' as Arnold said, 'with 
 a decidedly Christian tone.' 
 
 From his Jouenal : — 
 
 ^'January 1, half-jyast 12. — Into Thy hands I commit 
 my life, my spirit, my family, my all ! 
 
 " I have had more pleasure ia preaching this year 
 than any year of my hfe. Sabbath after Sabbath I have 
 - VOL. II. H 
 
98 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 had joy in the work, and have been wonderfully helped by 
 God out of the pulpit and in it. I had my usual evening 
 sermons with the working classes. But, strange to say, 
 though it was a time of revival, and my heart longed for 
 one, and a prayer-meeting was established for one, and 
 I preached two months longer than usual, the results as 
 to attendance and conversions were far poorer. I cannot 
 yet account for this, except on the supposition that the 
 good which flowed through this channel has gone through 
 others into God's treasury. Amen.* 
 
 " The editorshij) of ' Good Words ' was given me. I 
 did not suggest or ask the publication, and I refused the 
 editorship for some time. On the j)rinciple, however, of 
 trying to do what seems given me of God, I accepted it. 
 May God use it for His glory ! " 
 
 * The following anonymous letter whicli he received expresses 
 graphically the impression these services had on the poor. 
 
 "I hope yoii will excuse me, Sir, a poor woman, to address you, 
 one of the greatest men of the City, but I feel so grateful for 
 3'our unwearied kindness in preaching to us working-people many 
 winters, just out of pxu'e good-will for (lie roal good of our souls; if 
 the prayers of the poor are of any avail, I'm sure you have them 
 heartily, you have no idea how pi'oud we are to see yourself coming 
 into the pulpit. 
 
 " I remember some of the lectures very well last winter on the 
 Creation, on the fall of Man, the Flood, and Abraham offering up his 
 eon Isaac, and how delighted we were that night when you were on 
 Lazarus, and Martha and Mary. I heard j'ou on the mysteries of pro- 
 vidence, and I understood it well, Sir, as I heard you mention how it 
 was explained to yourself that night when you thought Mrs. Macleod 
 was dying. 
 
 " Oh, Sir, I hope you will forgive me for using so much freedom 
 as this with yon, but I thought I might never have an opportunity of 
 expressing my gratitude to j'ou personally, but I thought a word from 
 even an old woman would help to encourage you. I have heard you say 
 your own faith was sometimes like to iail. 
 
 '• I count it a great privilege to get leave to hear you, you speak so 
 kindlj' to us. I never did this before to any one, but I never ielt so 
 much indebted to any minister before now. Sir, I hope you will 
 forgive me if I have done wrong — it's for no selfish end, depend 
 on it, or I would have given my name and address. I am just a 
 widow." 
 
i860 — 6i. 99 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 HiGHFiELD, May, 1860. 
 
 "This is a magnificent country, and the house stands 
 on a gentle eminence, and there is such a glorious prospect 
 of massy and majestic forest from it, with low blue hills 
 far away. Spring is here in its full-flooded glory. The 
 woods are smothered with songs and nests. The night- 
 ingales disturb one's repose. The roses are out, and a 
 thousand flowering shrubs. But yet I can think of little 
 but you and the bairns, and would prefer the confusion of 
 the house with you all, to this grandeur and all the 
 happiness of seeing my dear old friends again, without you. 
 I walked through a lane of Scotch firs 
 to-day, with such peeps of woodland 
 and English glories as were awful. Yet 
 somehow I am sad. It may be indi- 
 gestion, or anticipated work, or per- 
 haps the devil, or sin, but so it is. 
 
 " We had a grand lunch yesterday at 's. Noble 
 
 pictures, a nice fellow, and lots of people who never 
 knew of my existence, or I of theirs. They came and 
 went like a dream. They might have been ghosts but 
 for the tremendous luncheon they ate." 
 
 To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. : — 
 
 June 1, 1860. 
 
 " I saw in Paris all I wished to see, and more than I 
 expected to have seen. I visited the jewellers and file- 
 makers, and had a great deal of full and free talk with the 
 men, through a patient interpreter. These men have made 
 a deep and singularly favourable impression upon me. They 
 seem to me to be the most hopeful class (and more hopeful 
 than any I supposed to exist among the people of Paris) 
 out of which to rear a strong, truthful, manly, living 
 Church of Christ. Would God that earnest pastors met 
 them as brethren, face to face, heart to heart ! Honest 
 fellows, I seem still to feel the firm grasp of their hands ! 
 Their muscles are firmly strung to their hearts, and 
 vibrate from them. 1 do not think their associations have 
 
 H 2 
 
100 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 had much success, but they prophecy a brighter future in 
 better times. 
 
 " I have heard much of Highland revivals since I saw 
 you. The fanaticism is dreadful, the evils monstrous, and 
 the fruits small ; yet life, life, is the one grand want of 
 our Protestant churches, come how or when it may. 
 All is dark to me save God. 
 
 " As to my taking offence, thank Heaven a pretty good 
 schooling has developed, a la Darwin, a rather thin-skinned 
 Celt into a tolerably fair specimen of a pachydermatous 
 Saxon. I never take offence except when I believe a man 
 tries to insult me, which I don't remember has happened. 
 And then ? Why enter on the discussion of such a nice 
 bit of casuistry ! " 
 
 From his Jotjenal : — 
 
 " July 20. — Wellhanh, Campsie. — We have taken this 
 sweet place for two months, and just as I was beguining 
 to enjoy the old nest, and to commune with the old hills, 
 the dear nurses of my youth, I am suddenly called away 
 to Russia ! 
 
 " . . .1 have been asked to aid my Scotch countrymen. 
 I never sought it. I prayed God to direct me — and I 
 have perfect peace from feeling it to be His will, and 
 so I go. What more can I do to discover God's will 
 than a call to work — prayer for guidance, a good con- 
 science, and no argument against the work ? 
 
 "It is strange that I have never mentioned in my 
 Journal what has been so near my heart, my call to 
 minister to dear Lady Bute on her deathbed ! In De- 
 cember I was summoned by telegram to visit her. I found 
 her sister with her. Lady Bute was almost speechless. 
 I knelt beside her, and spoke into her ear, repeating suit- 
 able texts of Scripture. She evidently understood me, for 
 while I spoke she suppressed her breathing so as to listen, 
 and then, as I ended, she breathed rapidly, turning her 
 ear away. May that dear boy know God as his Father, 
 even as his earthly father and mother knew Him, and 
 this will be, as eternity is to time, above all earthly riches 
 
i860 — 6i. loi 
 
 to him. I had prayers with hira and his aunt. I offered 
 to remain all night, and begged to be sent for in the 
 morning. So ended a life full of deep interest. She 
 had a singular and noble sense of duty — a refined sense 
 of what was due to God and man — with a masculine 
 intellect ; a deep, tender heart to her friends, a mar- 
 vellous, chivalrous devotion to her relations — father, 
 mother, sisters, and son especially. I beheve she is in 
 glory — saved through Him whom she knew and loved 
 sincerely. I was afterwards at her funeral. My dear 
 Macnab was there, his beloved wife, and my own John 
 Campbell. I accompanied Mr. Macnab afterwards to 
 Carlisle. He died a month afterwards, and a more 
 perfect Christian gentleman or finer man in all respects 
 I never knew. He was ausgebildet within and without." 
 
 The following extracts are from letters written 
 to Mrs. Macleod during his visit to Eussia. An 
 account of his tour and its impressions appeared 
 in Good Words for 1861. 
 
 St. Petersbueg, August 7, 1860. 
 
 '* Met to-day old General Wilson, who came from 
 Scotland when eight years old. He saw the Empress 
 Catharine in 1784. 
 
 " Now, I must confess that St. Petersburg has as yet 
 greatly disappointed me. The Neva is a noble river : St. 
 Isaac's is, outside, a noble church. The bridge is fine, so 
 are the granite quays ; some of the statues fine — but the 
 town as a whole is as dust to Paris. There is a mixture 
 of big and mean buildings— a want of finish which 
 reminds me of an American town. 
 
 *' The heat is considerable : the gentry are absent. You 
 see almost no military, no music, no cafes, no fine hotels ; 
 but a hot, white, glaring, dead slowness in the place. It 
 is sad, not joyous — heavy, not gay. The service of the 
 Greek Church is far less interesting than the Roman 
 Catholic." 
 
10* LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 August 10. 
 
 " We have met seveical Scotchmen. I saw a High- 
 lander in full dress in church, and, to his astonishment, 
 addressed him in Gaelic. Curiously enough, I met three 
 men together at a work — one was from the Barony, the 
 second from Campbeltown, the third from Dalkeith. 
 
 " I preached the night before last on the top of a gas 
 meter to about forty. Most of the people were fi'om 
 Glasgow. It was a queer sight. I sung the Psalms — no 
 seats or books ; lots of Russian workmen stood around to 
 hear the Scota * pope ' — as the priests are called. ' My 
 heart is full,' said a Scotch woman, taking my hand, ' I 
 canna speak.' 
 
 *' I spent three hours in St. Isaac's on Sunday ; got my 
 pocket picked. The service was beyond all measure tiresome. 
 Crowds of priests with the Metropohtan at their head — 
 most magnificent dresses. Chanting beautiful, voices 
 exquisite, but vast sameness. It lasted three hours, and 
 was followed by the kissing of the Cross and the Bible, 
 &c. It would take pages to give you an idea of what is 
 not worth knowing. It is externally worse than Rome. 
 Russian life I cannot see. I know no more than you do 
 of the country." 
 
 Sweden, August 31. 
 
 " I am here in a station on the railway, by the margin 
 of a wild Highland Loch, having come out to visit a few 
 Scotchmen. I left St, Petersburg on Tuesday week, with- 
 out any regret, never wishing again to visit that slow, 
 big, iU-paved, drosky-thumped, expensive capital. 
 
 " Thank God, there are, however, signs of life every- 
 where. Thousands of the Scriptures are being circulated 
 in Russia. Gospel preaching is heard in Finland, and 
 in Sweden. The dry bones are everywhere stirring, 
 though the breath has come to a few only. 
 
 " The system of the Church in Sweden is quite perfect 
 of its kind. No dissent is permitted. Every child is 
 educated. All must be confirmed, and thoroughly taught, 
 and examined in the small and larger catechism. Every 
 one before getting a situation, even a servant, must pro- 
 
i86o — 6i. 103 
 
 diice a certificate in which is marked the number of times 
 and the last, in which he has coinmunicated. There, 
 is probably not a person, the vilest, who has not such. 
 What is the result ? formality, deadness, and an immense 
 amount of corruption. The longer I live the more I am 
 convinced that the more perfect the government, the less 
 it should interfere with religion. If men won't do right 
 because it is right, what is the good of it ? Give me 
 freedom with all its risks." 
 
 On his return from Eussiahis attention was directed 
 to a speech made by a distingnished. and much 
 respected professor in a Scotch University, a keen 
 advocate of Total Abstinence, who had taken Dr. 
 Macleod's tract, ' Plea for Temperance,' as his text 
 at a meeting of the League, held in Glasgow. 
 
 To Professor : — 
 
 Glasgow, 1860. 
 
 "... I am not in the habit of taking notice of all 
 the ' hard speeches ' which have been uttered against me 
 by violent and unscrupulous abstainers. There are, I 
 rejoice to know, among teetotalers very many persons 
 whom I highly respect tor their own and for their Avork's 
 sake, and many intimate and dear friends with all of 
 whom I am glad to co-operate in my own way, according 
 to my given light and conscientious convictions. But I 
 pro "• est that there is also among them, a rabble of intem- 
 perate men, revelling in the pride of power which enables 
 them as members of a great league, and under cover of 
 an exclusive profession of self-sacrifice for the public weal, 
 to bully the timid and to exercise all the tyranny possible 
 in a free country over every man, especially a Christian 
 minister, who presumes to dissent from their views of 
 duty and to resist their demands, or who dares to defy 
 their threats and despise their insinuations. Such men I 
 never notice. 
 
 " But it is otherwise when a learned and Christian 
 gentleman like you attacks me. 
 
104 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 "... Yes, I think your remarks were unfair, uncalled for, 
 arid calculated, as far as your influence and words extend, 
 to injure my character, and weaken my hands in labouring" 
 among the workiug classes whose well-being is dearer to 
 me than life. I must ask you to prove your assertions, 
 and to justify your remarks on me and my writings more 
 fully than you have done in your speech, and upon other 
 principles than those of the League. I do not ask you to 
 explain or defend the * principles ' of total abstinence, to 
 show their harmony with Scripture, or their expediency 
 as rules of action in the present state of society. All this 
 I am willing for argument's sake to take for granted. 
 But what I demand in justice from your hands is to prove 
 that the principles, the argument, the spirit, or any one 
 thing else in my tract is inconsistent with any other things 
 in the Word of God, which I recognise as ' the only rule 
 of faith and morals.' Nay, you are bound, m order to 
 justify yourself, to prove my teaching to be so inconsis- 
 tent as to have warranted you in exposing it as you have 
 done, and in holding me up as a foe of temperance, and my 
 tract as calculated to confirm drunkards in their vicious 
 habits ; nay, to ruin souls temporally and eternally. 
 Pray keep to this simj^le theme. Put my tract and 
 Scripture side by side, and in clear language, and with 
 truthful criticism, point out the contradictions between 
 Bible and tract, in word, princij)le, or spirit. Wherein do 
 they differ ? Wherein am I not of Paul, or of Cephas, or 
 of Christ ? Is it in my exposition and denunciation of 
 the crime of drunkenness ? Is it in my urgent recom- 
 mendation to all drunkards to adopt total abstinence as 
 essential in their case ? Is it my toleration of the temj^erate 
 use of drinks by Christian men, which in excess would in- 
 toxicate ? Is it in admitting that in certain cases total 
 abstinence should be adopted by sober men ? Do point 
 out, I beg of you, anything I have written which Paul 
 or our great ]\Iaster Avould condemn, and which warranted 
 you liolding me up as a foe of temperance, and as a real, 
 though unintentional helper of the devil in his work of 
 ruining souls temporally and eternally." 
 
i86o — bi. 105 
 
 To tlie Same : — 
 
 1860. 
 "... I do not for one moment imagine tliat 
 you intended to injure my character or usefulness ; 
 but I believe that your speech tended to do both, upon 
 grounds which seemed to me unfair. I account for this 
 in my own mind by the one-sided influence, pardon me 
 for saying so, which the frequent and hard riding of a 
 hobby produces on an eager and earnest rider, mofe 
 especially A\hen several thousand persons at an annual 
 meeting hke that of the League, are galloping fast and 
 furious in the same heat. You allude also to what you 
 are pleased to call my remarkable speech in the General 
 Assembly of '59, as calculated to increase the danger of 
 my teaching as given in the tract. I remember the speech 
 well. My remarks made on that occasion with reference 
 to the reformation of the working classes, proposed by total 
 abstainers from alcohol and tobacco, were a mere episode 
 in a very long speech on a great subject, and were not pre- 
 meditated. They were published also in newspapers in a 
 separate shape, and unconnected with the speech of which 
 they formed a very unimportant part. For some time 
 they were a common and favourite target for the fiery 
 darts of total abstainers. Your allusion to them affords 
 me an opportunity of stating that after mature deliberation 
 I see nothing in them to regret or retract. It is still my 
 belief that we must apply (and in this you will agree 
 with me) the same principles in seekmg to Christianize 
 the habits of rich and poor; for, to use a vulgar but 
 expressive simile, ' Avhat is sauce for the goose is sauce 
 for the gander.' Since I do not therefore feel myself justi- 
 fied, in the General Assembly or out of it, in condemning 
 the rich man for drinking his glass of wine after dmner, 
 or even for smoking his cigar (to the horror of the excel- 
 lent Dean of Carlisle) after breakfast, neither can I, without 
 hypocrisy or impertinence, condemn the working man, who 
 has fewer sources of physical gratification, for taking his 
 glass of beer, or smoking his pipe if so disposed, at his 
 humble fireside. It is not my special province to recom- 
 mend either; yet neither am I called upon as a Christian 
 
ro6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 minister to condemn cither. But I am not ashamed to 
 confess that I would ' recommend ' the working man who 
 was disposed to take his beer, to do so at his own tireside, 
 if I thereby helped to keep him from whisky, above all 
 from the terrible temptations of the publichouse. All this 
 I expressed, in the hearing of our friend Dr. Guthrie, upon 
 oath to Her Majesty's Commissioners when giving evidence 
 with reference to the workmg of the Forbes Mackenzie Act. 
 For I lirmly believe that one way of hindering men from 
 sinfully abusing God's gifts, is to help them to use them 
 according to His will ; and that all reforms Avhich ignore 
 the lawful gratification of those universal instincts, phy- 
 sical, mental, and moral, which God has implanted in 
 humanity, are essentially false, and in the long run will 
 fail to produce even the S2')ecific good which their promoters 
 intended, or will develop other evils equally, if not more de- 
 structive of the well-being and happiness of man. Hence 
 my conviction is becoming every day more profound, that 
 the gospel, as revealing God's wdll through His Son, is the 
 only true and safe reform, for it does not ignore any item of 
 man's complex nature, but equally and beautifully deve- 
 lops the whole. Believing this, I have humbly endeavoured 
 honestly to keep my fellow men in accordance with what 
 seems to me to be the will of God. Hence I have not 
 contented myself with always protesting against a positive 
 evil, but have also declared m favour of its opposite 
 good, that so God's mercies may the more gladly be 
 accepted and appreciated, and the devil's perversion of 
 them be the more readily rejected and detested, 
 
 " What I have done may He within Himself make pure ! 
 
 " One word more before bringing this correspondence 
 to a close. It is a very painful thing for me to be ever 
 and anon forced into the position of even appearing to be 
 an enemy to total abstainers and their work. Because I 
 have written a tract with heart, will, and strength against 
 drunkenness, and striven earnestly with a solemn sense of 
 my responsibility before God to accompHsh its cure, on Avhat 
 I believe to be sound Scri[)ture principles — an attempt 
 Avhich I rejoice to know has in many cases been successful 
 — does it not seem strange and hard that I, of all men, 
 
i860 — 6i. 107 
 
 sliould be so frequently held up as a foe, a quasi friend, 
 or in some way or other an enemy, of those who with 
 equal earnestness, and I hope with greater success, are 
 labouring in the same cause ? If I have spoken or 
 written harshly against teetotalers, you know it is not 
 against them as a body, or against their work, but only 
 against the mjustice and tyranny of the fanatical portion 
 of them, who, not only in public but in private, are in 
 the habit of attackmg, sneering at, or imputing all sorts 
 of ' sensual and empty ' motives to those who may be 
 quiet, sober. God-fearing temperate men, guilty of no 
 other fault than refusing to become total abstainers. 
 Now all I demand is, that I and others who act on tem- 
 2)emte principles — a class comprehending the vast majority 
 of the Christian laity and clergy of this country — shall 
 be treated as those who may be presumed, in the eye of 
 charity, to have as much common sense, sound Christian 
 principle, and self-denying philanthropy as total abstainers. 
 Do let us have a free trade in those Christian virtues of 
 justice, mercy, and kindness, which will make us all 
 healthier and happier than can even thin French wine. 
 Protest witli me against all monopolies of principle and 
 wisdom by any sect or party. At the same time I am 
 willing to acknowledge that it is a very serious fault if I 
 have ever spoken or written, even in ignorance, any senti- 
 ment which could induce a Christian brother conscien- 
 tiously to suspect or to condemn me, or to look upon me 
 in any other light than as a sincere friend and coadjutor 
 of every man who seeks to elevate our working classes, 
 and to make them more sober and God-fearmg." 
 
 To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. : — 
 
 Glasgow, Decemler, 1860. 
 
 "My correspondence has fallen so far behind that I 
 have had to pause for three days in my voyage, yea to 
 sail backwards to pick up the wretched craft. I am 
 slowly beating to windward, every sheet to the breeze, not 
 to speak of note paper. Do you understand my position 
 from this description ? If you do, pray explain it to me, 
 for I don't. I only know that I am in a mess — never 
 
io8 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 having been so before — no, never ! . . . All the blessings 
 of the season be with you ! Kiss Hughes through the 
 partition for me. The cold here is looking up to 0, like 
 a moon over its head. It has been several degrees 
 Tninus ! I have been sitting swathed for some days in 
 the house thus — 
 
 I expect in a week to 
 be thus — 
 
 t 
 
 To Prmcipal LETTCn : — 
 
 *' Do send me an article on comets, or on the co-sine. 
 
 — tnkinf? an observfttion 
 of his co-siue the conieU 
 
 Original sign. 
 
i860 — 6i. 109 
 
 From, his Journal : — 
 
 Lauder, February 22, 1861. 
 
 •' 1 have enjoyed here ten days of extra luxurious rest ! 
 No bell, no calls, repose, air, exercise (when it did not 
 pour) ! I have read a ton of MSS. — all Balaam save about 
 one pound. I have written eighty-five letters, and so I 
 return with a load of work off me, and a load of gratitude 
 on me. 
 
 " I have been reading McCheyne. How thankful I 
 should be if I had a thousandth part of his devotedness. 
 How simple, yet how difficult ! Who can doubt human 
 corruption and utter vileness, when we find it difficult to 
 devote ourselves to God ! " 
 
 "June 3. — This day enter my fiftieth year — half a 
 
 century old ! 
 
 ' Would that my tongue could utter 
 The thoughts that arise in me.' 
 
 "Verily God's mercies are more than can be num- 
 bered ! 
 
 "I desire Thee, God, to help me to live more use- 
 fully, more devotedly to Thee ; and, above all other things, 
 to have fellowship with Christ in His mind towards all 
 men, so as to be in everything a fellow worker with 
 Himself. 
 
 "Many good people don't understand the purpose of 
 Good Words, and so it sometimes shocks or scratches them 
 — so much so that the Tract Society of Edinburgh have, 
 I hear, debated how far they can patronise it ; and I know 
 the 'Pure Literature' (pure water, and sometimes pure 
 nonsense) Society of London won't recommend it. They 
 don't think ' Wee Davie ' * — my dear wee mamiie ! — suffi- 
 ciently up to the mark of piety because it omits important 
 truth — just as St. James's Epistle and various other books 
 of the Bible do ! From my heart I regret this, because I 
 beUeve it is the fushionless, unreal, untruthful, 'pious' 
 story telling, which some of our tract societies alone 
 
 * ' "Wee Davie ' was written in his brother Donald's Manse at 
 Lauder, during a snow-storm, and was finished after two sittings. 
 When Norman tried, on its completion, to read it aloud, he was more 
 than once so choked Avith tears that he had to lay it down. 
 
1 1 o LIFE OF NORMAN MA CLEOD. 
 
 patronise, that has produced the story telling without 
 piety, but with more truth and more trash, which is 
 devoured by the working classes. Now I have a purpose 
 — a serious, solemn purpose — in Good Words. I wish 
 in this peculiar department of my ministerial work to 
 which I have been ' called,' and in which I think I have 
 been blessed, * to become all things to all men, that I 
 might by all means gain some.' I cannot, therefore, write 
 stories merely as a literary man, to give amusement, or as 
 works of art only, but must always keep before me the 
 one end of leading souls to know and love God. ^lost 
 popular stories are based on the natural ; the finest 
 characters are assumed to have been the growth of the 
 old man, at all events, to have been irrespective of any 
 knowledixe or recomition of Christ. Now I believe, in 
 my soul, that all which one discovers of out-and-out 
 good among men, really and truly, is ever found, as a 
 fact, to have arisen from the recognition of the super- 
 natural, — a power coming to the soul through Jesus 
 Christ. Therefore, I must make this the open and con- 
 fessed source of strength in my characters, because I find 
 it in society as well as in the Bible. But, again, in writing 
 sketches of character, 1 must also give that mixture of 
 clay which all of us have, and express the inner life in 
 print, just as I see it expressed in actual life ; and I am 
 bold enough to assert that my life sketches are truer far 
 as tracts than those productions are, which make working 
 men, ay, young children, speak like Eastern patriarchs 
 or old apostles. I may be wrong in my idea as to how 
 Good Words should be conducted, and I cannot, of course, 
 reaHse it as I wish to do, but I have a purpose which I 
 believe to be right, and can therefore pray to Christ to 
 bless it ; and can also humbly, but firmly, go ahead, Avhat- 
 ever the religious world may say. I know that I seek 
 so to conduct it that I would not be ashamed to have it 
 beside me on my death-bed. If it is not pleasing to 
 Christ, from my soul I desu'e that He may bring it to 
 nought." 
 
i860 — 6i. Ill 
 
 To Miss Mahgaret Campbell : — 
 
 February, 1861. 
 
 " I am going to finish * Ned Fleming.' * I always 
 have your brother Dugald before me as my hero — Ahi 
 Memoria ! How are they gone, ' the old familiar faces ! ' 
 Yet they are immortal in memory. Those Campbeltown 
 times and these old companions have had an immense 
 influence on my life. The code of honour which emanated 
 from your father's roof I always recognised as one of the 
 great powers which have helped to build me up to what I 
 am. We never told a lie ! Yes, once, when we broke 
 Bell Fisher's crocks ! Innocent souls ! " 
 
 To J. M. Ltjdlow, Esq. : — 
 
 March 16, 1861. 
 "The articles upon the Deaconesses in Good Words 
 seem to prepare the way for Avhat you intended to write, 
 or proposed to write, upon the useful sisterhoods in the 
 Church of Rome. I shall be glad to have your views 
 upon that most useful class of females ; but do, my dear 
 fellow, remember that yon are writing for John Smith and 
 his wife, up one 'pair' of stairs, after a tea-dinner at 
 6 o'clock ; John indifferent to the movements of the starry 
 heavens, and Mrs. Smith absorbed in the toes of John's 
 stockings. Think of these (if you can) and you will write 
 splendidly." 
 
 To Miss Keddie, on the loss of hor Sister : — 
 
 Adelaide Place, Sfarch 17, 1861. 
 " It must be very terrible ! The Saviour's words in 
 His sense of loneliness amidst the croAvd and even amidst 
 His own disciples, will be full of meaning to you, ' I am 
 not alone, for the Father is with me ! ' — but for that, the 
 universe would have been a wilderness to His heart. 
 Our human hands are too coarse to meddle with the fine 
 network of the spirit. We break and confuse oftener than 
 we harmonise and heal. But He can do it ! and with what 
 
 * In tlie " Old Lieutenant." 
 
112 IJFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 wisdom, patience, tenderness and holy love ! Oh Avhat a 
 mockery it would be if our social life in Christ ended 
 here ! It hardly begins here. Very soon you and your 
 sister will meet, and when you talk over old times, you 
 may be able to praise and bless God for this time, now so 
 dark and trying. Most certain it is that God by such 
 trials, when we wait on Him, trust Him and seek His 
 kingdom, will purify us, and make us instruments more fit 
 to glorify Him." 
 
 June 3, 1861. 
 
 " My beloved Parents, — 
 
 " Few men are able to begin a note with such 
 words when entermg their fiftieth year ! I owe it to 
 God to acknowledge that one of the greatest mercies in a 
 life which has been one continued mercy, has been to 
 possess such parents, and that they have been spared to 
 journey with me through the wilderness for nearly half a 
 century, and that their presence has always been a constant 
 light of love which never once fiickered. Most deeply do 
 I appreciate the inestimable blessing thus bestowed on me 
 and on their children's children. 
 
 " It is not likely that if I am spared to see another 
 decade of my life, I shall have both or either of you to 
 address. But oh ! the mercy of entering old age with 
 one's parents still alive, and then to pass from old age to 
 eternal youth in the good hope of meeting them again for 
 ever. 
 
 " If my birthdays now are more sobered than they 
 were in early youth they are far more joyful. I every 
 year bless God with a fuller heart that I exist and have 
 lived in such an atmosphere of earthly love. Let me have 
 your last, as I have had your early prayers, that I may 
 fulfil my calling, and that, as a man with innumerable 
 shortcomings I may prove in the main true and loyal to 
 the best of Masters. 
 
 " Full of awe and thanksgivings for my mercies and 
 full of love to you both, 
 
 " I am your devoted and affectionate first-born." 
 
i860 — 6i. ,,, 
 
 To J. M. LiTDLOW, Esq.: — 
 
 August, 1861. 
 "Comfort me b}^ scolding me. Your genuine good- 
 ness, forbearance, and forgiving-heartedness, give me posi- 
 tive pain and make me hate myself, which is not com- 
 fortable. Out upon public life, magazines, and all articles .' 
 * I would I were a weaver ! ' 
 
 " But I really had not another day in London to 
 see you. I was worried to death by Dowagers and 
 Dogmatics. 
 
 " You know why the town clerk of Dunfermline called 
 the Provost dog-matic ? Because ' the bodie got so cross 
 in an argument about a Bible doctrine, that he hited my 
 thoomb / ' 
 
 " A thousand thanks for your kindness in not ' bitino- 
 my thoomb,' but giving me your hand. 
 
 " As to the New Magazine, I have nothing whatever to 
 say against any other craft trying to cross the wide ocean 
 along with my own. There is room for all. I buy two 
 or three penny papers now, instead of one. So is it with 
 cheap magazines, if good. 
 
 " My calling is the gospel, to give myself wholly to it, 
 as I know it and believe it. For this I live, and for this 
 I could die. Therefore so long as I have Good Words 
 there shall be ' preaching ' in it, direct or indirect, and 
 no shame, or sham, about it. This, along with my secu- 
 larity, will keep it, so far, distinct from other periodicals. 
 "The sin of my articles is in what they do not say. 
 ' Wee Davie,' poor little fellow ! leaves out several doc- 
 trines. They say that the expression, ' Rest her soul in 
 peace ! ' is so Popish, being a prayer for the dead, that it 
 is ' most dangerous.' 
 
 " I have published, with many corrections, my sermon 
 (not story) of Wee Davie, and 12,000 sold in a week. 
 It is intended for the working men of Scotland chieflv." 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
114 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To tbo Egv. W. F. Stevenson :— 
 
 TiaH-NA-BRUAcn, Kyles of Bute, August 14, 1861. 
 
 "I must try a volume of addresses to the working 
 classes, or ' Barony Sermons.'* The spirit and tcacliing of 
 the Magazine form a constant subject of anxiety. I Avant 
 to intone all its services more with the direct Christian 
 spirit, and shall do so, or give it up. 
 
 *' As to Ned, the story is a serious affair with me. I 
 wish to show the Christian life working in a boy placed 
 in rather trying circumstances, and becoming stronger 
 through falls and trials — to illustrate, in short, a life begun, 
 like that of many, in the secret recesses of early life, and 
 disciplined by Christ through a long course of years. I 
 don't find the process, as described in most ' evangelical ' 
 tracts, by which many men become at last strong in 
 Christ, to be true to life as I see it, so that good boys in 
 tracts are not like those I have ever met with. — Ned is. 
 Along with this I Avish to excite interest in sailors, and to 
 preach the gospel to those also who may hear for the sake 
 of the story. I cannot think that I shall utterly fail, or 
 injure the cause dearer to me than life itself, when I 
 know that I have only truth in view, and daily pray to 
 Christ to guide me. Oh ! my dear friend, from wij heart 
 I say it, I would sooner die than consciously injure 
 that cause by anything I write, should it gain me the 
 fame of the greatest names in literature ! As a literary 
 production Ned is a twopenny affair, but I am encouraged 
 to write it as a medium of preaching Christ." 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 November 6, 1861. 
 
 " I sincerely thank you for your criticisms on Ned. 
 I accept what you say about the humanity of the 
 story. I wished to draw men towards me on the human 
 ground, that so they might go up higher with me towards 
 super-human good. The story points to that direction. 
 The hands of Esau may lead wild men to listen to the 
 voice of Jacob." 
 
 * Afterwards published under the title, " Simple Truths." 
 
i860 — 6i. 
 
 '5 
 
 To Colonel Dreghorn (in answer to a letter reminding him of 
 a promise to preach a sermon for the Society for the Prevention 
 of Cruelty to Animals) : — 
 
 Glasgow, 1861. 
 
 " I beseech you to have mercy on me as an animal, and 
 get some other brute, equally willing and more able than 
 I am, to preach your sermon, I have seven sermons to 
 preach for collections in other churches before January — 
 and I am engaged three times every Sunday till April — 
 besides tons of other work on my back. I ask mercy with 
 the donkey, dog, or carter's horse. My burthen is heavier 
 than I can bear. Let the deputy chairman spare his lash. 
 I have no power to bite or kick, I can only groan. 
 
 " I'll feed the next starved dog handsomely, shelter for 
 a week the first wandering cat I meet, even put my 
 shoulder to the next over-loaded cart of coal, or iron I see. 
 I'll listen for two hours to 'David Bell.' I'll do any deed 
 of mercy laid upon me that I am fit for, if you spare my 
 back while editor of Good Words. In the name of 
 every hard-used brute, lay or clerical, animal or spiritual, 
 I crave your mercy. 
 
 " Yours in trouble." 
 
 In answer to Colonel Dreghorn's repeated request : — 
 
 1861. 
 
 "Absence in Edinburgh along with the off-putting of 
 the flesh, has prevented me from replying to your note. 
 I shall honestly try to be with you if possible before the 
 meeting is over to say a few good words for my brother 
 donkeys, and all animals who like myself are too severely 
 handled and cudgelled by the public. In such suffering 
 you will I know sympathise." 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 MONALTRIE, September 9, 1S61. 
 
 "Dear kind Mrs. Fuller Maitland drove me to Crathie 
 on Saturday. The Manse Avas full, i.e., the minister, with 
 a son and two grown-up daughters, a lady from England 
 with grown-up son and daughter, a gentleman from Edin- 
 burgh and myself. How were they put up ? The walls 
 
 I 2 
 
1 15 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 know. I don't. But as I always say, no Manse was ever 
 so full, but that (like a 'bus) one more could bo taken 
 in. I preached — by no means comfortably to myself. I 
 could not remember one sentence (literally) and had to 
 trust to the moment for expression. Lord John Russell 
 there. But the Queen was most cordial in her thanks for 
 the comfort I gave her, and commanded me to return next 
 year. So I must indulge the hope that it was blessed far 
 more than I could believe, judging from my own feeling. 
 I preached in the evening for Anderson. I dined at the 
 Castle, and spent really a charming evening. I had a 
 long walk with Lady Augusta Bruce during the interval, 
 and learned much from her about the death of that noble, 
 loving woman, the Duchess of Kent, and of the Queen's 
 grief She was a most God-fearing woman. I have been 
 presented by the Queen with a delightful volume of hymns 
 which her mother was fond of The Queen's distress was 
 deep and very bitter, but in every respect such as a 
 daughter ought to feel. The suddenness — unexpected by 
 even Sir J. Clarke — of course shocked her. At dinner 
 were present Princess Alice and her yia?ice, Prince Louis 
 of Hesse, Princess Hohenlohe, the Queen's half-sister — an 
 admirable woman. T sat beside Prince Alfred, a fine 
 gentlemanly sailor. We had lots of talk. After dinner 
 I had a most interesting conversation, for about half-an- 
 hour, with the Prince Consort, and a good long one with 
 the Queen. In short, it was a most agreeable evening." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 "Last night of 1861. — The happiest time I have had 
 yet at Balmoral was this last with the dear good Prince, 
 whom I truly mourn. 
 
 " The death ! What an event for the nation ! I have 
 received a letter from Lady Augusta Bruce, which is very 
 delightful, although sad." 
 
CHAPTEE XYL 
 
 1862—63. 
 
 "IS theological views were gradually expanding 
 into a more spiritual and living apprehension 
 of the purpose of God in Christ. The character of 
 God as a Father had always been the central article of 
 his creed, but there were wider applications of it into 
 which his keen sympathies were constantly leading 
 him. The subject of the atonement of Christ much 
 engrossed his thoughts, and although he had been 
 long familiar with the views held on that subject by 
 his cousin. Dr. J. Macleod Campbell, he now found 
 in them new meaning and adopted them more fully. 
 * As far as it goes his teaching seems to shed a light 
 on the nature of Christ's sufferings, which cannot pass 
 away, because springing out of the eternal nature of 
 things.' He may afterwards have diverged, in regard 
 to some minor points, from what Campbell taught him, 
 but he certainly never recurred to the conception of 
 the sufferings of our Lord as penal, or to those notions 
 of the nature of salvation which it involves. Feelinor 
 
 o 
 
 that fresh light had been shed on the purpose of God 
 in Christ he advanced hopefully into new regions of 
 thought. 
 
. iS LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his JouRNAli : — 
 
 " Aj)ril 20, Sunday. — I am confined to the house by 
 bronchitis, and enjoy deeply and thankfully this blessed 
 cahn, this holy rest. AVhat a gift from God is this holy 
 day ! I thank God that during these last few years I 
 enjoy the pulpit more and more, and find it a rest to my 
 spirit in proportion as I seek in the bonds of Christ's love 
 to do good, and to make others partakers of the rest in Him. 
 I have been seldom in life so exercised in spirit as during 
 the Sundays which preceded the communion and on the 
 communion Sunday itself, in preaching on the Atonement, 
 according to the view taken of it by my beloved John 
 Campbell. As far as I am capable of knowing myself, I can 
 declare before Him who knows me truly, that I sought by 
 earnest prayer, patient reading, and meditation, to know 
 God's revealed will with reference to Christ's work. It has 
 been a subject which has more or less occupied my thoughts 
 for years, and I never allowed myself, I think, to be carried 
 away by mere outWcird authority, but sought to see it and 
 so to possess it ; for seeing (spiritually) is believing. I 
 therefore always preached what I saw and believed ; and 
 I never did see the truth as John Campbell sees it until 
 lately. I believed, and still believe, that what Jesus did 
 as an atoning Saviour He did for all, because God com- 
 mands all men to believe in Him as their Saviour, and 
 because He necessarily desires all men to be saved, i.e. to 
 be holy like Himself. But what I never could see was 
 the philosophy of the atonement, or that element in 
 Christ's work which constituted the atonement. The 
 usual method of explaining it (commonly called 'the 
 Battle of the Attributes '), as penal suffering from God's 
 wrath, and so satisfying divine justice, I could not con- 
 tradict, but could not see and rejoice in as true. So 
 I was disposed to allow the whole thing to remain a 
 mystery — a fact, revealed as the ground of certain bless- 
 ings which I felt I needed and thanlvfully received, but 
 without any necessary connection being seen between what 
 Christ did and what I received. But, thank God, this is 
 (lawuing on me, and what I see now can never, I think, 
 
i862 — 63. 119 
 
 be taken from me, for conscience has its (moral) mathe- 
 matics as well as the reason." 
 
 He was at this time engaged in preparing the 
 * Old Lieutenant ' for republication in a separate form. 
 He was quite aware of the defective structure of the 
 story, but he was certainly disappointed when some 
 of the reviews, whose criticisms he most respected, 
 failed to discover its aim and to recognize in its 
 characters portraits from real life. Indeed, so dis- 
 heartened was he by the reception of his first serious 
 attempt in the domain of fiction, that, for a while, he 
 was resolved it should be the last. 
 
 To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. : — 
 
 May, 1862. 
 
 " What I should like you to do with my 'Old Lieutenant' 
 would be — (1) to correct the Scotch or Scotticisms, for I 
 never was taught English ; (2) to 
 draw your pen through any sentence 
 or expression you think better out 
 than in. As for the ' 'igh hart,' it 
 must remain in nuhibus, as ' low hart ' 
 is my line. I know I am getting into 
 a fearful mess among the critics for 
 pubhshing it. 
 
 " I know the book has no art in 
 its plot, for alas ! I had to write it "^ 
 
 from month to month, always thinking the next month 
 would end it. It is besides absurd to write a story, 
 as I intentionally did, for the j^reaching in it, instead of 
 preaching by it. But I laiow the characters are genuine, 
 and true to nature, tor they were all as living beings who 
 possessed me, and there is not one that does not stand on 
 his own legs as real flesh and blood. I deny with my 
 whole soul and strength that the teaching is unhealthy. 
 It is not true that whatever man asks lor in prayer he gets 
 in the form in which he asks it. The reviewer dops 
 
120 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 not tnist in God as I do. I mean by this, a trust in God 
 for whatever God gives. He seems to think that it is trust 
 for some specific blessing. And what did poor Ned ever 
 get, except his wife ? I tried to picture a lad neither a 
 frmff nor a Methodist — a good, honest fellow, trained up 
 sensibly and living honestly, and as any young man may 
 live, and as many do. But nowadays, it seems, young men 
 must be either blackguards, or perfect saints. I will main- 
 tain that it is a picture of real life, though not perhaps of 
 London life, with its spasms. And the critic says I don't 
 loiow the sea ! I wish I met him on some deck. The funny 
 thing is that the Examiner of Sea Captains in Liverpool was 
 so astonished at my loiowledge of the sea that he begged 
 to know how I got it, or if a seaman had written the sea 
 parts for me. If I know anything, I know about a ship." 
 
 To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. : — 
 
 London, 1862. 
 
 " Every mystery will, I presume, be solved some time or 
 other — perhaps our not meeting ma}^ be explamed to- 
 morrow. In the meantime it is mysterious. 
 
 " I paced betore the Croydon Station for nearly an hour. 
 I studied every beard, conned every intellectual coun- 
 tenance (there were but five worthy of the name) till multi- 
 tudes had departed — and you came not. So, bag in hand, 
 I have taken refuge in Good Words office. I mourn 
 over the tempting invitations I have refused to be Avith 
 you ! I mourn the loss of not seeing you and Hughes ! 
 But I mourn most not having seen your mother ! 
 
 " If I had only consulted the Directory ! But now — 
 
 "It'iuUup." 
 
 " Yours in sorrow." 
 
l862 63. 121 
 
 To tlie Eev. W. F. Stevenson : — 
 
 Odoher 20, 1862. 
 " I am pretty well convinced, from the reviews received 
 to-day of ' Old Lieutenant ' in the London Revieiu and 
 Spectator, that I am not able to be of use in that Ime. 
 The book is killed and buried for ever, though self-love 
 makes me thmk it cannot be so bad as they make it. I 
 shall, in the meantime, get Avhat good I can to my own 
 spirit by the reviews, and learn to seek quiet and peace 
 more in that still region of labour before God which earth 
 cannot disturb." 
 
 The Queen had now come to Scotland for the first 
 time since the death of the Prince Consort, and Dr. 
 Macleod was summoned to Balmoral. He had been 
 profoundly moved by the death of the Prince, whom 
 he had regarded as 'an ideal of all that is pure, 
 truthful, unselfish, and wise ;' and from the confidence 
 with which he had been honoured by his Sovereign, 
 he was able deeply to sympathise with her in her 
 grief. 
 
 Although his journals contain many interesting 
 accounts of his different visits at Court and to 
 members of the Eoyal family, it is in harmony with 
 the reticence he always observed to give only such 
 extracts as may indicate the confidence reposed in 
 him, and the loyalty of his services. 
 
 He ever recognised the grave responsibility which 
 these duties entailed. 'When I think how the cha- 
 racter of princes affects the history of the world, and 
 how that character may possibly be affected by what 
 I say, and by the spirit in which I speak and act, I 
 feel the work laid upon me to be very solemn.' 
 
 ' Your royal highness knows,' he said to a younger 
 
122 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 member of the family, whom lie was endeavouring to 
 comfort after the death of the Prince, ' that I am here 
 as a pastor, and that it is only as a pastor I am per- 
 mitted to address you. But as I wish you to thank 
 me when we meet before God, so would I addi*css you 
 now.' 
 
 * I am never tempted,' he writes, ' to conceal any 
 conviction from the Queen, for I feel she sympathizes 
 with what is true, and likes the speaker to utter the 
 truth exactly as he believes it.' 
 
 Trom his Jourxal : — 
 
 ''May 8, 18G2. — I am commanded by the Queen to 
 visit at Balmoral from Saturday till Tuesday. 
 
 " Few things could be more trying to me than, in 
 present circumstances, to meet my afflicted Sovereign face 
 to face. But God, Avho calls me, will aid me. !My hope 
 is in Him, and He will not put me to shame. May He 
 guide me to speak to her fitting truth as to an immortal 
 being, a sister in humanity, a Queen Avith heavy, heavy 
 trials to endure, and such duties to perform ! May I be 
 kept in a right spirit, loving, peaceful, truthful, wise, and 
 S3^mpathizing, carrying the burthen of her who is my 
 sister in Christ and my Sovereign. Father ! Speak by me !" 
 
 To ;Ntrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 Balmoral, May 12, 1862. 
 
 " You vill return thanks with me to our Father in 
 heaven for His mercy and goodness in having hitherto 
 most surely guided me during this time -svhich I telt to 
 be a most solemn and important era in my life. All has 
 passed well — that is to say, God enabled me to speak in 
 private and in public to the Queen in such a way as 
 seemed to me to be truth, the truth in God's sight : that 
 which I believed she needed, though I felt it would be 
 very trying to her spirit to receive it. And what fills me 
 with deepost thanksgiving is, that she has received it, and 
 
l862 — 63. 123 
 
 written to me siicli a kind, tender letter of thanks for it, 
 which shall be treasured in my heart while I live. 
 
 " Prince Alfred sent for me last night to see him before 
 going away. Thank God I spoke fully and frankly to him 
 — we were alone — of his difficulties, temptations, and of 
 his father's example ; what the nation expected of him ; 
 how, if he did God's will, good and able men would rally 
 round him ; how, if he became selfish, a selfish set of 
 flatterers would truckle to him and ruin him, while caring 
 only for themselves. He thanked me for all I said, and 
 wished me to travel with him to-day to Aberdeen, but the 
 Queen wishes to see me again. I am so thankful to have 
 the Duke of Argyll and my dear friend Lady Augusta 
 Bruce here. The Duchess of Athole also — a, most delight- 
 ful, real woman." 
 
 From his Jouiii!^AL : — 
 
 "May 14<th. — Let me if possible recall some of the 
 incidents of these few days at Balmoral, which in after years 
 I may read with interest, when memory grows dim 
 
 "After dinner I was summoned unexpectedly to the 
 Queen's room. She was alone. She met me, and with 
 an unutterably sad expression which filled my eyes with 
 tears, at once began to speak about the Prince. It is im- 
 possible for me to recall distinctly the sequence or sub- 
 stance of that long conversation. She spoke of his ex- 
 cellencies — his love, his cheerfulness, how he was every- 
 thing to her ; how all now on earth seemed dead to her. 
 She said she never shut her eyes to trials, but liked to 
 look them in the face ; how she would never shrink from 
 duty, but that all was at present done mechanically ; that 
 her highest ideas of purity and love were obtained from 
 him, and that God could not be displeased with her love. 
 But there was nothing morbid in her grief I spoke freely 
 to her about all I felt regarding him — the love of the 
 nation and their sympathy ; and took every opportunity of 
 bringing before her the reality of God's love and sym- 
 pathy, her noble calling as a Queen, the value of her life to 
 the nation, the blessedness of prayer. 
 
124 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " Sunday tlie whole household, Queen, and Royal 
 Family were assembled at 10.15. A temporary pulpit 
 was erected. I began with a short prayer, then read 
 Job xxiii.. Psalm xlii., beginning and end of John xiv., 
 and end of Revelations vii. After the Lord's Prayer I 
 ex[)Oundcd Hebrews xii. 1-12, and concluded with prayer. 
 The whole service was less than an hour. I then at 12 
 preached at Crathie on 'All things are ours.' In the 
 evening at Crathie on ' Awake thou that sleepest.' The 
 household attended both services. 
 
 " On Monday I had another long interview with the 
 Queen. She was much more like her old self — cheerful, 
 and full of talk about j^ersons and things. She of course 
 spoke of the Prince. She said that he always believed he 
 was to die soon, and that he often told her that he had 
 never any fear of death. 
 
 " I saw also the Princesses Alice and Helena ; each by 
 herself. 
 
 " No words of mine can express the deep sympathy I 
 have for these mourners. From my soul I shall ever pray 
 for them that God would make them His own dear chil- 
 dren. 
 
 " What a drive wo had on Monday up to the falls of 
 the Garbhalt ! The great pines, the mossy flooring 
 of the woods, the pure streams, the herds of deer, the 
 aivful purple of the hills, the white snow on their tops, 
 the enamelled grass so characteristic of this season, the 
 marvellous Hghts ! Oh what a glorious revelation of God. 
 I returned yesterday full of praise. 
 
 " The more I learn about the Prince Consort, the more 
 T agree with what the Queen said to me about him on 
 Monday, ' that he really did not seem to comprehend a 
 selfish character, or what selfishness Avas.' And on what- 
 ever day his public life is revealed to the world, I feel 
 certain this will be recognized. 
 
 " Dr. Becker, to whom I was complaining of Humboldt's 
 treatment of the Prince, told me that the only thing the 
 Prince said or wrote about it to him was, * I am sorry for 
 poor Humboldt.' He felt that such things injured one 
 whom he so much loved and admired." 
 
i862 — 63. 125 
 
 At the end of May, accompanied by Mrs. Macleod 
 and his brother Donakl, he took a six weeks' tour in 
 Italy, crossing Mont Cenis to Turin, and thence by 
 Genoa and the Eiviera to Florence, Bologna, Venice, 
 Milan, and the Italian Lakes, and returning home by 
 Courmayeur, the Great St. Bernard and Basle. His 
 impressions of Italy were afterwards recorded in 
 Good Words. '^ 
 
 To Ms Father : — 
 
 Florence, June 3, 1862. 
 
 " It would take months of patient study to get even 
 a general idea of the glories of art in Florence ; we have 
 not a shadow of an idea in Scotland of what art is. In 
 this respect it is a barbarous country ; yet, in a better 
 respect, it is as heaven to this. I wish you saw Popery here 
 to loathe it. 
 
 " I preached last Sunday. Protestantism hardly exists. 
 Little is doing or can be done. God alone can help this 
 wretched country. How I know not, nor can see. All 
 is beautiful and grand, but man and his morals." 
 
 To his Fatter and Motiier : — 
 
 Lake Maggiore, Sunday, June 15. 
 
 " Tlie two places I enjoyed most were Venice and two 
 days' rest at Bellaggio, on the Lake of Como. The beauty 
 is really inconceivable. For wild and majestic grandeur 
 I admire our own Highlands most, but for surpassing and 
 majestic beauty, this. 
 
 " I preached in the HecJcla steamer to the Jack Tars on 
 Sunday last. Campsie men and Glasgow men were on 
 board. It was a pleasant day. The glory of Venice 
 cannot be imagined." 
 
 " Baveno, Sunday evening. — We crossed the lake to- 
 day, and have had a nice service. I read the Liturgy 
 and preached. We had a delightful walk through the 
 vineyards, and enjoyed the snowy Alps in the distance." 
 
 ♦ " Eambling Notes of a Ramble in Italy." — Good Words, 1862. 
 
126 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To A. Strahax, Esq. : — 
 
 Monastery of the Great St. Bernard, 
 June 21, 1862. 
 
 " Ere I bid farewell to the world, I wish to bid fare- 
 well to thee. I have resolved to join the Brothers of 
 St. Bernard. All is arranged. I find that they never heard 
 of Presbyterian ism, Free, or U. P. Kirk ; know nothing 
 
 even of Dr. or Dr. , and have kept up service 
 
 here, helping the poor and needy, for 800 yeai*s. I 
 find I can live here for nothing, never preach, but only 
 chant Latin prayers ; that they never attend public 
 meetincrs, never gfo to Exeter Hall nor to a General 
 Assembly, but attend to the big dogs and the travellers 
 of all nations. In short, it is the very place for me, and 
 I have craved admission, and hope to be received to-night. 
 I shall be known henceforth as Frater Flemingus. (I 
 think I owe it to the Captain to adopt his name.) My 
 wife goes to a nunnery; I leave my children to your care 
 — o\ to you and 3| to Isbister. Farewell, best of men 
 and of publishers ! Farewell, Isbister, best of men and 
 of smokers ! Farewell, Good ^Vords ! Farewell, the 
 
 world and all its vanities ! I was interrupted at this 
 
 point by a procession of monks, who came to strip me ot 
 my worldly garments, and to prescribe the vows. Before 
 changing garments, I inquired about the vows. Judge of my 
 
 amazement in finding I 
 I must renounce cigars 
 
 for ever ! I pause 
 
 "P.S. — 2 a.m., 22nd. 
 — The monks won't 
 cjive in. Tlie weather 
 is fearfully . cold. No 
 fires in the cells. The 
 dogs are mangy. 
 
 " 3 A.M. — I am half- 
 dead with cold. I shan't 
 lie in the morgue. I 
 re[)ent ! 
 
 " G A.M. — Off for 
 London! Hurrah!" 
 
i862 — 63. 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 August 18, 1832. 
 
 " I had a delightful visit from Stanley. He is a 
 noble specimen of the Christian gentleman and scholar. 
 When I come into close contact with such men as he, 
 John Campbell, Erskine, Scott, Maurice, Davies, Ludlow, 
 Hughes, I feel how I could enjoy heaven with them. 
 Whether it is my defect or theirs I know not, but the 
 narrow, exclusive, hard hyper-Calvinistic schools repel me, 
 and make me nervously unhappy. I cry to God daily for 
 humility to love all, and to feel that I am saved a,s a 
 sinner who, as such, must have disgusted the angels. Our 
 pride is devilish, and when I laiow how much better many 
 of those who repel me are than I am, or ever have been, 
 I am ashamed of my pride, and that I cannot clasp them 
 to my heart. I should despair, unless I believed that 
 Jesus Christ can and will deliver me, and give me to enjoy 
 the unspeakable heaven of being a humble, meek child 
 without my knowmg it, but simply being it, loving it, so 
 that by the supernatural I may become natural, for sin in 
 every form is so unnatural. 
 
 " I never had a hapj^ier day than yesterday. I preached 
 on the first two parables of the fifteenth chapter of Luke, 
 and felt so strong and happy in preaching. The highest 
 conceivable enjoyment is to preach, even in a small degree, 
 in sympathy with Christ — to feel that He is with us, to 
 speak what you know is right, and in the right spirit of 
 good-will and unselfish love. I believe that God will help 
 our India Mission, and bless us as a congregation by 
 somehow connecting us with this work. 
 
 " I have the most intense desire to spend the next ten 
 years of my life, if these are given me, more earnestly 
 than I have ever done. At sixty I shall be unfit for active 
 work. Whatever I can write for the good of my fellow- 
 men must be done in this time. It is a glorious gift, 
 and by the help of the Almighty I may yet overcome the 
 bad habits of sloth and want of method." 
 
128 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To the Eev, W. F. Stevensox : — 
 
 October A, lSfJ2. 
 
 " Tlianlvs for your delightful volume.* No Presbyterian 
 has -written before in such a catholic spirit ; and this I feel 
 to be a great want of our Church. We ignore sixteen 
 centuries almost ; we dig deeper and deeper the trenches, 
 — which genial nature was kindly filling up with sweet 
 flowers, — to keep up the old division lines, instead of build- 
 ing bridges to connect us as far as possible with the 
 Church Catholic. Judaical separation won't do, far less 
 Pharisaical. The only separation which is good is that of 
 greater praying and working, which, hke true love, is at 
 once the most separating and most uniting element. The 
 ' Stand back, I am holier than thou,' must be exchanged 
 for the * Come near, for I am holier than thou through 
 grace, which is thine as well as mine, and mine too for 
 thee.' God bless your book ! " 
 
 From his Joitrnal : — 
 
 " Nov. 3. — I this day begin my winter's work. I am 
 persuaded that God is shutting me up in His providence 
 to a deeper, inner mission in my own spirit and in my 
 parish. What I am longing to obtain is more of the 
 glory and blessedness of love and humility. Humility 
 towards God and man would be heaven. I have been 
 greatly quickened to aim at this by Vinet's noble sermon 
 on ' Submitting one to another,' and ' Lifting up holy 
 hands.' There is no sermon- writer who masters me as he 
 does — so searching, so faithful, so discriminating and holy. 
 I feel now that the rest of my life will be nobly spent if I 
 can only, by the constant help of Almighty grace, seek 
 daily to go out of mj'-self in love to God and man, 
 showing it by patience, silence, sympathy, forbearance — 
 the esteeming others better than myself — honourmg them, 
 submitting to them, being nobody, and my brother all-in- 
 all to me. 
 
 " ;My proposed work will be : — 
 
 " Regular visitation of the sick and aged, and weekly 
 visits of communicants. 
 
 * " Praying and Working." 
 
i862 — 63. I2g 
 
 " Careful preparation of lectures, sermons, and prayers. 
 
 " Thursday evening prayer meetings. 
 
 " Weekly district meetings. 
 
 " Visit the Workhouse and, if possible, the Hospital. 
 
 " With God's help, I should like to rise at half-past five. 
 Spend half-an-hour at least in devotion. Write till 9. 
 Keep Friday and Saturday exclusively for pulpit. 
 
 " Wednesday night, district ; Thursday, 7 to 8, people 
 in vestry ; 8, meeting. Monday, sick and sorrowing. 
 Tuesday and Thursday, visitation. 
 
 " Tuesday, Nov. 25. — My beloved father died this 
 morning, between one and two, in his seventy-ninth year. 
 We have lost as loving a father as ever blessed a family. 
 
 " God has called him, and spared my beloved mother. 
 
 " I defer writing anything about his death." 
 
 '"^Uh April, 1863. — Having the first quiet Sunday 
 evening since January 1, I wish to go back in my Journal, 
 and to record a few events which I would like to remember 
 in detail. 
 
 " I had been out of toAvn, and returned home on 
 Monday. Having much to do, I sat down to work. It 
 was a close, foggy night. Just as I was settled to my 
 writing, I remembered that I had not seen my dear father 
 since Friday. Anxious to save time I went out as I was, 
 intending to spend only a few minutes with him. But I 
 found my mother out, an event which had not happened, 
 I presume, for years. So I stayed a long time, and to 
 cheer him talked over old Morven stories. He had been 
 dull all day, but I did cheer him so that I never saw him 
 more happy. We parted at ten. My door-bell rang 
 about one a.m., and a message was brought to my bed 
 that he was dying. In a few minutes, another. I 
 hurried down — he was dead ! I went to his room, and 
 there he lay as he had died — asleep ! I did not weep, 
 nor did I feel the least excited. The Lord knows how this 
 was ; but so it was. I felt less a great deal than I had 
 often done in visiting the poorest, even strangers, in time 
 
 of distress There he lay, with that noble 
 
 head and white hair — but why describe it ? 
 
 VOT-. IT. K 
 
130 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " In all my life I never saw such a glorious face in 
 death. He lay for a week in that coffin, pure and sweet 
 as marble. The red was in his lips, and there was a 
 nobleness, a grandeur, a dignity, about that face and head, 
 which were fascinating. I can describe the feeling they 
 created by no other word. 
 
 " The remarkable things on the day of the public 
 funeral were the number of Highland women, old and 
 young, Avho struggled with obvious difficulty in keeping 
 up with the hearse until it reached the Barony, where we 
 parted from the general company, and went to dear old 
 Campsie. There the spectacle was very remarkable. It 
 was twenty-five years since he had left that parish, and 
 yet in a town of two thousand every shop was shut sponta- 
 neously. There we laid him and returned to my beloved 
 mother. 
 
 " Since then the house, which for twenty-five years 
 has been the centre of such love and life, has been emptied, 
 and a great chapter has been closed. We all intensely 
 realise it." 
 
 His experience in the managcn^ent of an enormous 
 parish had convinced him that, howe^'e^ well it may 
 be administered, the Poor Law necessarily entails 
 moral and social consequences, which, if not counter- 
 acted, must seriously affect the well-being of the com- 
 munity. He believed it was worse than a mistake to 
 place the deserving poor on the same level with the 
 idle and disreputable, and thus destroy that self-respect 
 which is the best safeguard against pauperism. The 
 substitution of statutory rates for the exercise of 
 Christian charity, must, in his opinion, ultimately 
 demoralise both rich and poor. The gulf which was 
 every day becoming wider between class and class, 
 between the brother who Avas ' increased with goods,' 
 in the West End, and the brother ' who had need,' 
 in the East End of the City, appeared to him one of 
 
i86z — 63. Iji 
 
 the grayest problems with which the Church had to 
 deal, and how to create ' bridges ' across the gulf be 
 came for a while the absorbing topic of his reflections. 
 An article which appeared in Good Words, from the 
 pen of his friend the Eev. "W. F. Stevenson, on the 
 practical application at Elberfeldt of Dr. Chalmers' 
 plan for relieving the poor, struck him so much that 
 he determined to see for himself what the writer 
 described. He accordingly made a brief excursion to 
 Germany in the month of February, accompanied by 
 Mr. Stevenson, the Eev. Adoph Saphir, and his 
 brother Donald, and after visiting Pastor Fliedner's 
 Deaconess Institution, at Xaiserswerth, spent two 
 days at Elberfeldt.* On his return to Glasgow he 
 gave a lecture ' On East and West,' to an influential 
 audience in the Corporation Galleries ; and as the 
 season was too near an end for gaining any practical 
 result, he intimated his intention to repeat it next 
 winter, and to follow it up by a discourse on 'Bridges,' 
 in which he would propose a remedy for the evils he 
 had described. This intention he was unable to ac- 
 complish, f and a paper in Good Words, afterwards 
 published in a separate form,+ alone remains to indi- 
 cate the direction in which his thoughts were then 
 turned. 
 
 * An account of tliis journey "was given in Good Words, " Up the 
 Ehine in "Winter, by Pour Friends." Each, of the travellers contri- 
 buted a portion ; Stevenson describing Kaiserwerth and Elberfeldt, 
 Saphir a visit to Dr. Lange at Bonn, Dr. Macleod the Carnival 
 at Cologne, and his brother the Rhine scenery in winter. 
 
 j- The unaccountable disappearance of his first lecture was, in the 
 midst of a busy winter, one of the chief hindrances to his resuming 
 the subject. 
 
 I "How can we best Eelieve our Deserving Poor ? " Strahan, 
 1867. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his Jotjenal : — 
 
 "March, 1863. — On my return from Germany I went 
 to Windsor. I reached Monday night, but did not see 
 the Queen. I made the acquaintance of the Dean of 
 Windsor (Wellesley, nephew of the Duke), one of those 
 noble specimens of the pious Christian gentleman which 
 is characteristic of the English Church above all others. 
 Next day I walked with Lady Augusta to the Mausoleum 
 to meet the Queen. She was accompanied by the Princess 
 Alice. She had the key, and ojjcned it herself, undoing 
 the bolts, and alone we entered and stood in silence beside 
 Marochctti's beautiful statue of the Prince. I was very 
 much overcome. She Avas calm and quiet. 
 
 " We parted at the entrance, and I accompanied Lady 
 Augusta to Frogmore, and the tomb of the Duchess of 
 Kent. She, the Duchess, must have been a most unselfish, 
 devoted mother. All the tender things Lady Augusta 
 said about her were quite in keeping with what I had 
 before heard. 
 
 " I had a private interview at night with the Queen. 
 She is so true, so genuine, I wonder not at her sorrow. 
 To me it is quite natural, and has not a bit of morbid 
 feeling in it. It but expresses the greatest loss that a 
 sovereign and Avife could sustain. 
 
 " Next day I went through Windsor, which is the heau 
 ideal of a royal residence. There are some grand pictures 
 in it, and also a number of poor ones. Except the 
 royal apartments in the Kremlin, these are the finest in 
 Europe. 
 
 " I returned home and went back to the marriage on 
 the lOtli of March. I was in full court dress, but found 
 I could have gone in gown and bands. Why describe 
 what has been given in full detail ? I got beside Kingsley, 
 Stanley, Birch, and in a famous place. Being in front of 
 the royal pair we saw better than any, except the clergy. 
 It was a gorgeous sight, yet somehow did not excite me. 
 I suppose I am past this. 
 
 " Two things struck me much. One was the whole of 
 the royal princesses weeping, though concealing their tears 
 with their bouquets, as they saw their brother, who was to 
 
i862 — 63. J33 
 
 them but their 'Bertie ' and their dear father's son, stand- 
 ing alone waiting for his bride, Tlie other was the Queen's 
 expression as she raised her eyes to heaven, while her hus- 
 band's Chorale was sung. She seemed to be with him 
 alone before the throne of God." 
 
 To Eev. A. Clerk, LL.D. : — 
 
 "Even you have little idea of the overwhelming 
 business which has been laid on me by Providence. I 
 am able to keep peace at the heart, but with extreme 
 difficulty ; for it is so vexing to be able to do nothing 
 well which is attempted, and to leave so much utterly 
 undone. 
 
 " The Prince's marriage was, of course, a splendid affair. 
 I could not help smiling at your idea of my requiring 
 much grace to return to my work ! I returned with 
 quiet thanksgiving ; for, believe me, spectacles of that 
 sort don't even excite me. They interest me much ; but 
 a day in Glen Nevis would unfit me much more for the 
 Glasgow closes. I hope in summer to have the joy of 
 visiting King Ben and his Queen, the Glen." 
 
 To the Eev. W. F. Stevenson : — 
 
 March 16, 1863. 
 
 " I gave my lecture on East and West on Monday to 
 a great audience, but from want of time I could say 
 little about Elberfeldt, so I mean to open next winter's 
 course with a lecture on ' Bridges,' or how to connect 
 East and West. To this end I mean to work during 
 summer, collecting facts about such practical efforts in 
 other places as may be suitable for this city." 
 
 From his Jouenal : — 
 
 ^'Tuesday, May 25th. — I returned last night from 
 Balmoral. The weather magnificent. I was in singularly 
 dull spirits. 
 
 " 1 saw the Queen on Sunday night, and had a long 
 and very confidential talk with her. 
 
134 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " I feel she wishes me to utter, as I do, anything, -which 
 in my soul I feel to be true, and according to God's will. 
 She has a reasonincr, searching mind, anxious to get at 
 the root and the reality of things, and abhors all shams, 
 whether in word or deed. 
 
 " Truly I need a higher wisdom than my o-\vn to use 
 the great talent God has given me to speak the truth in 
 wisdom, and in love without fear of man." 
 
 " X record a specimen of my boy's theology : — 
 
 " J. ' Auntie, what prayer shall I say ? Shall I say, 
 " When I lay me down to sleep, angels will me keep ? " ' 
 
 "A. 'Yes; say that.' 
 
 " J. ' Mamma says that good angels keep good boys.' 
 
 " A. ' Shall I leave the candle burning ? Are you 
 frightened ? ' 
 
 " J. ' Yes — no — yes ; leave it burning.' 
 
 "A. ' What are you frightened for ? ' 
 
 " J. ' Eats.' 
 
 " A. ' Tlimk you, dear, about the good angels.* 
 
 "J. ' Can they kill rats ?' " 
 
 As it was thouglit desirable to send deputies from 
 the Church to visit the stations which the Committee 
 of the Jewish Mission was establishing in the 
 Levant, Dr. Macleod and his friend Dr. Macduff 
 volunteered their services for this duty, and offered 
 to fulfil it at their own cost. They resolved, how- 
 ever, not to go except the General Assembly was 
 perfectly unanimous in its decision. This condition 
 not having been fulfi^lled, they gave up all thoughts 
 of the expedition. 
 
 To Dr. Macditf : — 
 
 " All will go well, I hope, in the Assembly. We do 
 not go, of course ; but I hope enough sense and gene- 
 
i862 — 63. 135 
 
 rosity will be found as to let us off with grace. Fear 
 not ! you and I shall come well out of this business." 
 
 The Childien of Israel as they are. 
 
 The opposition to Good Words, which he had anti- 
 cipated from a section of the religious world, and of 
 which some faint murmurs had already reached him, 
 at last broke out with a violence for which he was 
 certainly not prepared. The Record newspaper 
 published a series of criticisms of the magazine, 
 especially referring to the contributions of Principal 
 Tulloch, Dr. Lee, Dr. Caird, and Dr. Macleod, which, 
 besides wrath and bitterness, displayed so much 
 deliberate dishonesty, that he was utterly shocked by 
 the revelation it gave of the spirit reigning in the 
 narrower circle of the ' Evangelical ' world. The 
 maledictions of the Record, reprinted in the form 
 of a pamphlet, and widely circulated in England and 
 Scotland, were caught up and re-echoed by kindred 
 organs throughout the country, and had the effect of 
 making the editor of the offending periodical an 
 object of suspicion to many whose good- will he 
 valued. A ludicrous anti-climax was reached in the 
 Controversy, when the Presbytery of Strathbogio 
 gravely ' overtured ' the General Assembly of the 
 Free Church to take Good Words into its consideration. 
 If Dr. Macleod was indignant under this treatment, 
 he was still more grieved and ashamed. He never. 
 
136 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 however, lost the confidence of the healthier ' Evan- 
 gelical ' party in all Churches, and an able exposure 
 of the spiteful character of the criticisms in the 
 Record which appeared in the Patriot^ did much 
 even to remove the suspicions under which he lay 
 with the weaker brethren. 
 
 From his Jottrnal : — 
 
 " A series of reviews on Good Words have appeared in 
 the Record newspaper. What gives these furious attacks 
 any interest to me is the evidence Avhich they afford of 
 the state of a section of the Evangelical Cluirch Avhich sets 
 itself up as the perfection of ' Evangelicalism.' 
 
 " . . . I was quite aware of the risk I should run from the 
 na.rrow school of perfectly conscientious people, weak albeit 
 and i<>-norant of the bisf Avorld, and of the necessities of 
 the times, and of what might be done for Christ's cause 
 and kingdom by wiser and broader means. 
 
 " I had tried the very same experiment in the old 
 Edinburgh Christian Magazine for ten years. It never 
 paid : its circulation Avas about four thousand. But I held 
 on till the publishers, who had little capital and less 
 enterprise, gave it uj) in dcsj)air. But while I met con- 
 stant opposition from the weaker brethren, I held on with 
 the hope of emancipating cheap religious literature from 
 the narrowness and wealaiess to which it had come. Good 
 Words has now risen to a circulation of one hundred and 
 ten thousand monthly, wliile we print one hundred and 
 twenty thousand. Thus the experiment has so far suc- 
 ceeded. I resolved to publish the names of contributors, 
 so that each man would feel he was responsible for his 
 own share of the work only, while I was responsible for 
 the whole. Until this moment it has been welcomed, 
 but the Record has opened fire — Strahan told me it was 
 to do so. The articles afford frightful evidence of the 
 low state to winch Pharisaical ' Evangelicalism ' has come. 
 Tliey have been ably answered in a series of nrticles in 
 the Patriot. I don't know, nor suspect by whom. An 
 
i862 — 63. 137 
 
 attempt is being made to get Oood Words rejected by- 
 Tract Societies, the Pure Literary Society, &c. It is 
 incomprehensible to me that, at a time when the very 
 citadel of truth is attacked, these men are not thankful 
 for such a sincere and hearty defence. Strahan writes 
 me that since the attack he has sold more than ever. 
 But this is a secondary consideration. My own belief 
 is that the magazine will for a time be injured. So many 
 thousands of well-intentioned people are slaves to religious 
 papers (among the worst in existence), and to their weak- 
 headed ' Evangelical ' pastors, as much as any Papists to 
 their church or priesthood ; and so many men are terrified 
 to be held up as 'unevangelical,' that I don't think they are 
 as yet prepared for a magazine which shall honestly repre- 
 sent the various subjects, besides 'religion,' v/hich in point 
 of fact so occupy the thoughts of good men. 
 
 " The * world ' is that which is ' not of the Father.' The 
 so-called * Evangelical party ' — for, thank God, they are 
 but a small clique — are becoming the worshippers of 
 mere Shibboleths — phrases. The shortest road to be 
 considered religious is to adhere to a creed in words, 
 and to keep up a cant vocabulary. Let two men appear 
 in a certain circle of society of London, and let one man 
 speak of 'the Lord's people,' 'a man of God,' 'a great 
 work going on of revival,' &c., and another speak of 'good 
 christian people,' ' a good man,' ' good doing,' the first 
 man is dubbed godly, and the other man at least doubtful, 
 and all from phrases ! The one man's sins, misrepresen- 
 tations, uncharitableness, are put down to the frailties of ' a 
 man of God;' the other man's excellencies to vain appear- 
 ances. The evil of the one is accounted for, the good of 
 the other denied or suspected. This is horrible ! 
 
 " In like manner, though a man believes, as I do, with 
 his whole soul the doctrines of Scripture, yet woe to him 
 unless he believes the precise philosophy, or the systematic 
 form of those doctrines held by the clique! It is not 
 enough that you believe in Christ's life and death as an 
 atonement, as revealing God's love, as that without which 
 there is no pardon for sin, as that by which we are recon- 
 ciled to God. They will tell you that you deny the 
 
138 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 atonement unless you believe that Christ on the cross 
 endured the punishment which was due to each sinner of 
 the elect for whom He died ; which, thank God, I don't 
 believe, as I know He died for the Avhole world. They 
 never seem to be aware of the difficulties connected with 
 the philosophy of the atonement : what it was, how 
 Christ bore our sins, how this stands connected with 
 pardon, or man's spiritual life. And so as regards every 
 other doctrine : a man may believe in the corruption of 
 human nature, and to the extent that it requires the 
 supernatural power of God's Holy Spirit to renew us and 
 make us holy — but Anathema ! unless you believe that 
 you are damned for Adam's sin, and that a man has to be 
 passive as a stone till God, on what principle we know not, 
 acts on him. It is not enough to believe that sin is 
 cursed, and that so long as a sinner remains in this wurld 
 or anywhere loving sin, he is in hell. But you must be- 
 lieve in literal fire and brimstone : a lake of fire, into 
 which infants even may be cast, or you are not ' Evan- 
 gelical!' In vain you vow that you submit to Christ's 
 teaching, that whatever He says you believe, that you 
 submit to it, and are sure that ultimately reason and con- 
 science will rejoice in it. Anathema ! unless you see 
 A B C to be Christ's teaching, the proof of which is, that 
 not the Pope nor the Church, but that we, the ' Evangelical 
 Church,' the Record, or Dr. This or Dr. That, thinks so, says 
 so, and curses every man who thinks or says diflerently. 
 
 " Along with all this fury in defending ' the faith ' 
 (forsooth !) ' once delivered to the saints ' (as if Abraham 
 were a Mecordite), there is such a spirit of hatred and 
 gross dishonesty manifested that it has driven more away 
 from real Christianity than all the rationalists who have 
 ever written. God helping me, I will continue Good Words 
 as I have begun. If good men Avill cast me out of their 
 hearts, I feel most deeply the loss, but I must carry this 
 cross. It is my daily prayer to be guided in it for the 
 glory of my Redeemer, and I wish each number to have 
 such a testimony for Him in it as that I shall be able to 
 put it under my pillow when I die. 
 
 " I was threatened in London that unless I gave up 
 
i862 — 63. 139 
 
 Stanley and Kingsley I should be ' crushed ! ' What a 
 wretched hypocrite I would be if I practically declared 
 that I did not think these men worthy of writing beside 
 me ! Only think of it, Editor ! Strahan and I agreed 
 to let Good Words perish, perish a hundred times, before 
 
 we would play such a false part as this. or 
 
 accepted as Christ's friend, and Arthur Stanley rejected as 
 His enemy ! It might make the devils laugh and angels 
 weep ! Good Words may perish, but I will never save it 
 by such sacrifices of principle as this. 
 
 " I believe the warfare begun by that miserable Record — 
 which I have abhorred ever since it wrote about dear 
 Arnold — will end in the question, how far the truly pious 
 Church of Christ in this country is to be ruled by a small 
 synagogue of Pharisees and good old women, including 
 men not a few. We shall see. 
 
 " Yet I go this week to the Evangelical Alliance ! Yes 
 I do. I have received much spiritual good from its meet- 
 ings. I won't be driven off by the Record. But I shall 
 see of what spirit it is now of, and will continue in it or 
 leave it as I find it right. 
 
 " My Father, forgive my keen, feeling if I do injustice 
 to the weakest child of God ; help me to be humble and 
 meek, but courageous and sincere. Amen." 
 
 "May 25. — The Alliance meeting has convinced me 
 that all mind, all grasp, all power arising from love guided 
 by sound judgment has ceased to characterise it. It has 
 become the type of exclusion rather than inclusion, and 
 ' terrified for the adversaries,' it is shrinking into a 
 small cell. I will leave it. The Alliance should include 
 all who acknowledge the supreme authority of the Lord 
 Jesus and that of the Holy Scripture. 
 
 "Dear Sir Culling is dead. He has joined the true 
 Alliance, and no man will be more at home in heaven." 
 
 The following letter, written in answer to a respect- 
 ful remonstrance from one of the Professors in the 
 University of Edinburgh, w^as printed for private 
 circulation. 
 
HO LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Glasgo\s^, June, 1863. 
 " I thank you for your note ; because I feel assured 
 that you meant it kindly. 
 
 " I can hardly express to you the pain, and, I must add, 
 the surprise, with which I received the objections to Good 
 Words Avhich it contains, from one for whose character 
 and culture I entertain such liigli respect. Perhaps I feel 
 this the more at this time, when I have been made the 
 object of a most unrighteous and untruthful attack by the 
 Record newspaper. ... I would feel pained to dis- 
 cover even a shadow of such a publication falling for a 
 moment over any portion of the Evangelical Church in 
 Scotland. 
 
 " Certain criticisms in the last mcetin? of the Free 
 Church Assembly make me write thus, although I do 
 not mean to take further notice of that popular demon- 
 stration. 
 
 " But let me endeavour to obviate, or at least modify, 
 the difficulties which you are pleased so kindly to express 
 in jrour letter regarding Good Words. 
 
 " There is, first of all, the objection which you call the 
 Sabbath reading question. You fear, as I understand it, 
 that young persons may be tempted to read the ' secular ' 
 articles of Good Words on Sunday, and that ' the fine tone' 
 which we have so long associated, and, very properlj^, with 
 Sabbath reading may thereby be deteriorated. Now, Good 
 Words is not specially intended, as too many Christian 
 periodicals, I think are, to furnish nourishment for the 
 young chiefly, but rather to give solid meat for intelligent 
 men and women. But if any members of a Christian 
 family are compelled to endure such severe and dry ex- 
 ercises on the Sunday as would make them long for even 
 the scientific articles in Good Words, or, what is still more 
 common, if they are so ill-trained as to read what parental 
 authority has forbidden, let me ask, in such a case, why not 
 lock up Good Words ? The poorest family have generally 
 a press, or a chest of drawers, where this mechanical pro- 
 cess can be achieved. It surely must be acknowledged 
 that the periodical, so far as its mere ' secular ' element is 
 concerned, may be admitted as a respectable and worthy 
 
i86z — 63. 1^1 
 
 visitor of a Christian family on at least six days of the 
 week ? If so, why not take the visitor by the throat, say 
 at 11.55 on Saturday night, just at the moment when he 
 is beinsT transformed into the character of a danc^erous in- 
 truder, and then incarcerate him till he becomes once more 
 respectal)le at 12.5 on Monday morning? Or, if it is 
 found that the villain may escape on Sunday, that John 
 and James have become so attached to him that they are 
 disposed to pick the lock of his prison and let him out, 
 might it not be prudent, in such a case, to adopt the old 
 orthodox Popish fashion of burning him as a heretic ? — 
 with the condition only, for the great advantage of the 
 publishers, that a new copy shall be purchased every Mon- 
 day morning ! Even in this case, and in spite of all those 
 holocausts. Good Words would still be ' worth much and 
 cost little.' But then, my dear , you must con- 
 sider how to dispose of all your other secular literature 
 upon the first day of the week. What of your other secu- 
 lar books and ' secular ' periodicals ? and, what is a still 
 more difficult question, how are you to dispose of all your 
 secular conversation, if science be secular ? What, for 
 example, are you to do with the secular sun, moon, and 
 stars ? Are you to look at them ? If you do so, are you 
 to think about them ? If you think about them, are you 
 to speak about them ? If you speak about them, are you 
 to do so scientifically — that is, according to truth ? For, if 
 so, you thereby immediately tread upon dangerous ground. 
 You may be led into a talk on Astronomy, and may thus 
 
 become as bad as Professor , who, as you inform me, 
 
 declared from the chair of the Royal Society that he had 
 read an article on Astronomy in Good Words on a Sunday 
 evening. Your theory carried to this extent is hard to 
 practise in consistency with the most holy idea of the 
 Sunday. But that is not my look-out. ' Let each man 
 be fully persuaded in his own mind.' — ' To him that 
 esteemeth anything to be unclean to him it is unclean.' It 
 is enough for my defence that lock and key can enable any 
 man to dispose of Good Words, if he finds his family 
 tempted, from want of principle or self-control, to read 
 some of those articles which, I admit, are not intended for 
 
r 4 2 LIFE OF NORMAN MA CLEOD. 
 
 the Sunday, but for tlie other days of the week. Pray, my 
 friend, do not suppose that I am speaking hghtly of the 
 Sunday, or of its becoming exercises. I Avill yield to no 
 man living in my profound thankfulness for the Lord's 
 Day and all its sacred influences : nor do I wish, God for- 
 bid ! to weaken them, but to strengthen them. I am 
 merely indulging in a little banter with reference to what 
 appears to me to be a wrong application of principles, on 
 which we all agree, to the condemnation of Good V^^ords. 
 
 " As to the objection about the mixture of secular and 
 sacred in Good Words, which is involved in ' the Sabbath 
 reading question,' what can I say ? Ought I to leave out 
 the sacred ? Would the magazine thereby become more 
 Christian ? You seem to object to its title, as a magazine 
 for all the week. Will it become good if I leave out that 
 title, or construct another, suggesting that it is a magazine 
 for all the week except the Sunday ? Would either this 
 change in its title, or the withdrawal of its ' religious ' con- 
 tents make it really more religious, and, therefore, more 
 worthy of the support of Evangelical men ? I have no 
 sympathy with these objections. Either of us must have 
 a way of looking at the matter which the other cannot 
 understand. 
 
 " Your other objection is worthy, however, of a more 
 lengthened and serious reply. I quite sympathize with 
 those who may urge it : — I mean the fact of writers be- 
 longing to different schools in theology, and different 
 departments in literature, such as Mr. Trollope, Professor 
 Kingsley, and Dr. Stanley, writing in the same journal 
 with other men of acknoAvledged ' Evangelical ' sentiments. 
 Now, whether the plan or idea be right or Avrong, of a 
 religious magazine which shall include among its writers 
 men of all parties and Churches, or occupj-ing different 
 walks in literature, I beg to assure you that I alone am 
 responsible for it. It Avas not suggested to me by the 
 publishers or by others, but Avas made a condition by 
 myself before accepting the editorship of the magazine. 
 Moreover, I can very sincerely say, that it Avas not con- 
 ceived or adopted Avithout most grave, mature, and prayer- 
 ful consideration. I sa}- prayerful, not as a mere phrase, 
 
i862 — 63. 14.3 
 
 bnt as expressing a real fact. I admit also that I have 
 been from the first alive to the possible offence this plan 
 might give to some good and thoroughly sincere men who 
 had been accustomed to associate with what was called 
 'Evangelical literature,' a diiferent and narrower idea. 
 
 "... I believed, that if our cheap religious publica- 
 tions were to exercise real influence upon our intelligent 
 mechanics, much more upon that immense mass which 
 occupies the middle ground between the ' Recordite' 
 Church part}' on the one side, and the indifferent and 
 sceptical on the other, popular Christian periodical litera- 
 ture must be made, within, of course, certain limits, much 
 wider, truer, more manly, and more human — i.e., more 
 really Christian in its sympathies than it had hitherto 
 been. With these convictions naturally and soberly 
 formed, I resolved to make the experiment and to face all 
 its difficulties. 
 
 "... My rule has been to obtain assistance from 
 the best men in every church and party I can find able 
 and willing to write for me on such subjects as all men 
 may read Avith interest or with profit. This rule is 
 limited by one principle only, Avhich has ever guided 
 me, and that is, never to accept the contributions of any 
 writer, male or female, however talented, who is known to 
 be anti-Christian in creed or life. No infidel, no immoral 
 man or woman, no one whom I could not receive, in 
 so far as character is concerned, into my family, will 
 ever be permitted to write in the pages of Good Words. 
 Nay more, what they write must be m harmony at least 
 with the essentials of the Christian faith, and with its 
 morals. But, short of this, I hold that he who is not 
 against Christ is for Him — for Him more especially 
 when the author, whoever he be, is willing to write side 
 by side with men who preach the Gospel out-and-out. 
 And, therefore, I have no hesitation in saying to you, that 
 I believe every person Avho has written in Good Words 
 publicly professes his faith in Jesus Christ, and maintains 
 a character not inconsistent with that profession. 
 
 " As to the fear you express of persons being thus in- 
 duced to read Kingsley or Stanley, no person, I beheve, 
 
144 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 who lias not read tliem already, will be inclined to do so 
 merely by reading Good ^Yovds. But I presume that 
 most people who read general literature are already 
 acquainted with their Avritings. Yet I begin to think that 
 these are condemned by many who have never read them, 
 but have received from others, equally ignorant, a vague 
 impression of something horrible about them, they know 
 not what. I am not aware of anything they have ever 
 written which should necessitate their being excommuni- 
 cated from the pages of Christian periodical literature. 
 Anyhow, I have little faith in an Index ExpurgatoHus 
 being Avise or efficient among people of ordinary education 
 and intelligence. For once that it makes a young man 
 pious, in a hundred cases it makes him either ignorant, 
 false, or sceptical. To know both sides is, I tliink, the 
 only safeguard for men who may feel called upon to study 
 the present phases of religious thought. Good Woixh, 
 however, gives them but the good side. 
 
 " What then has been the practical result of my editorial 
 plan ? It is this : that I defy any man to select a number 
 in which there has not been again and again repeated a 
 full statement of Gospel truth, and that too Avithout any 
 one article, or even any passage in any number contra- 
 dicting it, but every article being, at least, in harmony with 
 it. No doubt you may pick out here and there once in a year, 
 and out of a hundred articles, some sentence which may 
 have crept in through inadvertency, and which might have 
 been, perhaps, better left out. And in a few articles also 
 of a more strictly religious character there may be the 
 omission of doctrines Avhich we might wish had been in, 
 or more fully stated. But the Magazine must be judged of 
 as a whole, and by the general tendency of all its articles, 
 and the impressions which it is likely to make upon any 
 truthful, honest, fair man. Let me say it with all rever- 
 ence, that there are books and epistles in the Scriptures 
 themselves which could be proved defective, doubtful, and 
 liable to be misunderstood, if the same principles of carping 
 Colenso criticism are applied to them as those which have 
 been applied by the Record to Good Words. 
 
 "... I must presume that you, my dear Sir, are neitlier 
 
i862 — 63. 145 
 
 acquainted personally with Kingsley nor Stanley, and that 
 you have not read their works with care. Writing hur- 
 riedly, as you have done, you may have accepted without 
 mature reflection the application of the verses from 2 Cor. 
 vi. 15, 16, first suggested by the Record. But Avere I, who 
 have the honour and privilege of knowing these men — while 
 differing, as I have said, very decidedly from many of 
 their views — to indulge such a thought regarding our 
 relative position, I should loathe myself as a Pharisee of 
 the Pharisees, and despise myself as the meanest hypo- 
 crite on earth. I have 'great personal respect for the 
 characters of Trollope, Kingsley, and Stanley, as well as 
 admiration of their genius, though they occupy very 
 different walks in literature. I have the privilege of 
 knowing Dr. Stanley more intimately than the others, and 
 I am glad to have even this opportunity of expressing to 
 you my profound conviction that he has a fear of God, a 
 love for Christ and for his fellow-men, a sense of honour, 
 truth, and justice, such as I should rejoice to believe were 
 even seriously aimed at by the conductors of the Record. 
 The passage you hastily apply to such a man as Stanley 
 — I feel assured, without the full meaning I attach to it 
 — was, nevertheless, coolly written and printed in the 
 Record, and applied also to myself, Lee, Tulloch, Caird, 
 and has been transferred to the separate j^ublication 
 of its so-called criticisms on Good Words. As to the 
 application of the more harmless and peaceful image from 
 Deuteronomy which you quote : — ' Thou shalt not plough 
 with an ox and an ass to2:ether,' I shall, with confidence, 
 leave your own good taste to make it, if you can suppose 
 Arthur Stanley and the 'Chelsea Pensioner' writing together 
 in Good Words. 
 
 "... But whatever may become of Good Words, I 
 am grieved to see the tendency, on the part of some good 
 men in the Evangelical Church, to cast away from their 
 heart and sympathies in such a crisis as the present, the 
 cordial aid which men must devoted to Christ and His 
 kingdom are willing to afford to the cause which all have 
 at heart, the very moment they refuse in some one point, 
 to shape their plans, or even their jjhrases, to the stereo- 
 
 VOL. II. L 
 
146 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 typed form -wliicli some small party have sanctioned, ns 
 being the only type of ' evangelieism.' They are too apt 
 to be governed by the mere letter and words, instead of 
 looking into the spirit and realities of things, and thus 
 unconsciously accept the well-known advice given in Faust 
 to a student by one whom I need not name, but who is, 
 I suspect, not ignorant of many of the private conspiracies 
 against good men in the oflSce of the Record. 
 
 *Iin ganzen — haJtet eitchan Worfe ! 
 
 Dann geht ihr durch die sichre Pforte 
 
 Zum Tempel der Gewissheit ein.' .... 
 ***** 
 
 • Mit Worten lasst sich trefflicli streiten, 
 Mit Worten ein System bereiten, 
 An Worte lasst sich trefflish glauben, 
 Von einem Wort lasst sich kein Iota rauben.' 
 
 " With a good conscience towards God and man, I there- 
 fore crave as a Christian brother pastor, seeking to aid his 
 Master's work, the sympathy of the good men of all parties, 
 and of all churches — for Good Words belongs to all. If 
 this is denied me, by even a few, on those few be the respon- 
 sibility of weakening my hands and my efforts. Profoundly 
 convinced, however, of a higher sympathy, I shall go on as 
 I have begun, with a firm, clear purpose, and a peaceful, 
 courageous heart. As I have sung long ago, I sing now, 
 and hope to do so till my voice is silent — 
 
 ' Trust no party, cbnrch, or faction, 
 Trust no leaders in the fight ; 
 But in every -word and action, 
 Trust in God, and do the right ! 
 
 ' Some will hate thee, some will love tliee, 
 
 Some will flatter, some will slight. 
 
 Cease from man, and look above thee, 
 
 Trust in God, and do the right ! ' " 
 
 To the Rev. W. F. Stevenson : — 
 
 " I had a most delightful visit to Dublin. 
 " What I saw of efforts to convert Romanists has left 
 that problem darker than ever. Whatever is right, those 
 
i862 — 63. 
 
 H7 
 
 controversial meetings — if the one I Wcas present at was 
 a fair specimen — are an abomination. ' Ach ! luas fiir ein 
 shandal ! ' 
 
 " I have written a long letter in reply to Professor , 
 
 I think you will approve of it. 
 
 "My first edition was — 
 
 " My second was — 
 
 " ^ly third is — 
 
 " And so I am more at ease. 
 
 "I feel the importance of this discussion. It will be a 
 blessing if we give freedom to Christian literature, and 
 yet keep it within holy ground. It will be a blessing 
 too, if we can make good men see their way to more tolera- 
 tion and largeness of sympathy," 
 
 From the Eev. A. P. Stanley, Professor of Ecclesiastical History : — 
 Cheist CmjECH, Oxford, June 13, 1863. 
 "For my part I would at once relieve you of my 
 presence in Good ^Yords, but I consider the principle 
 
 L 2 
 
148 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 which you advocate in your letter to be so good, that I 
 shall be sorry to do so. 'The ox and ass' must ^jlough 
 togetlicr in tlie Christian dispensation, though they were 
 forbidden to do so in the Mosaic." 
 
 From the late Canon Kingsley : — 
 
 CA^iiBRrDGE, Saturday night. 
 
 " I have sent off my copy. If anything in it seems to 
 you not fit for your readers, you are to strike your pen 
 through it without fear. 
 
 " I can trust utterly your liberality and good sense. I 
 am old enough to know, with Hesiod, that half is some- 
 times better than the whole. I have full means in Eng- 
 land of speaking my whole mind as often as I Avish. It 
 is for you to decide how much thereof can be spoken with- 
 out oftence to your 70,000 readers. So do what you like 
 with the paper, 
 
 " I should say this to very few editors upon earth, but I 
 say it to you as a matter of course." 
 
 To A. Strahan, Esq. : — 
 
 " Let us be very careful, not to admit through over- 
 sight one sentence which ought to pain a Christian, how- 
 ever weak he may be. In one word, let us honestly, 
 sincerely, humbly, truthfully do what is right, and dare 
 the devil whether he comes as an infidel or a Pharisee. 
 
 •' We have an immense talent given us, let us use it 
 well. 
 
 " I have no doubt Good Words will be injured, but it 
 will perish before I truckle to any party." 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 " I have read Number 1 of the Record; but the louder 
 the wind pipes, and the gurlier the sea gets from that 
 quarter, the more calm, steadfast I feel to steer right on 
 by the compass of a good conscience, by the old chart, the 
 Bible. 
 
iS6z — 63. 149 
 
 " Thank God T have you as my first mate, and not some 
 Quaker. I know you won't flinch in a gale of wind, nor 
 will I, take my word for it ! 
 
 " I don't mean to take any notice at present, although 
 I would like to speak out on the whole subject of religious 
 periodical literature as it was and is — what is good in it and 
 what is bad, what its duties are and its shortcomings. I 
 think this will do nuich good to the religious atmosphere. It 
 is very close at present. In the meantime I shall act on 
 my old motto, ' Trust in God and do the right.' " 
 
 In the same year in which he was attacked by the 
 Recordj he had an opportunity of showing how little 
 ground there was for the most serious of the charges 
 brought against him as editor. He had asked a 
 celebrated novelist, a personal friend, for whose 
 character and opinions he ever retained unqualified 
 respect, to write the tale for the following year. 
 But, when the story was submitted to him, he saw 
 that it was not suitable for the Magazine. There 
 was, of course, nothing morally wrong in its tone, 
 but as all its ' religious ' people were drawn of a type 
 which justly deserved the lash of the satirist, he felt 
 that to publish it in Good Words would be to lend 
 the sanction of its conductors to what he had long 
 considered the injustice of modern novelists in ignor- 
 ing healthy Christianity. A friendly correspondence 
 followed,* from which it appeared that the editor 
 and his friend had misunderstood each other ; but 
 so determined was Dr. Macleod and his publishers 
 not to compromise the character of Good Words, that 
 the forfeit of £500 was paid and the story declined. 
 
 * The novelist wto is referred to above thus writes : — " I need not 
 say that Dr. Macleod's rejection of the story never for a moment 
 interfered with our friendship. It certainly raised my opinion of the 
 man." 
 
150 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To :— 
 
 " N.B. — This letter Avill keep cold till you fire at peace 
 with all the world, with a pipe well filled, and drawing 
 well. Read it then, or a bit each day for a mouth. 
 
 Glasgow, June 11, 1863. 
 
 "... You are not Avrong ; nor have you MTonged 
 me or my publishers in any way. I frankly admit this. 
 L)Ut neither am I wrong. This, ' by your leave,' I assert. 
 The fact is that I misunderstood you and you me, though 
 r more than you have been the cause of the misunder- 
 Btanding. 
 
 " What I tried to explain and wished you to see when 
 we met here Avas, the peculiar place which Good Words 
 aimed at occupying in the field of cheap Christian litera- 
 ture. I have always endeavoured to avoid, on the one 
 hand, the exclusively narrow religious ground — narrow in 
 its choice of subjects and in its manner of treating them 
 — ^hitherto occupied by our religious periodicals ; and, on 
 the other hand, to avoid altogether whatever was anta- 
 gonistic to the truths and spirit of Christianity, and also 
 as much as possible whatever was calculated to ofiend the 
 prejudices, far more the sincere convictions and feelings, 
 of fair and reasonable ' EvangeHcal ' men. Within these 
 extremes it seemed to me that a sufiiciently extensive field 
 existed, in which any novelist might roam and find an 
 endless variety of life and manners to describe with profit 
 to all, and Avithout giving ofience to an}?-. This problem 
 which I wished to solve did not and does nOt seem to me 
 a very difficult one, unless for very one-sided ' Evangelical ' 
 or anti-' EvangeHcal ' writers. At all events, being a clergy- 
 man as well as an editor — the one from deepest convic- 
 tions, though the other, I fear, is from the deepest mis- 
 take — I could not be else than sensitive lest anything should 
 appear in Good Words out of harmony with my convic- 
 tions and my profession. Well, then, was I wrong in 
 assuming that you were an honest believer in revealed 
 Christian truth ? I was not. Was I wrong in beheving 
 and hoping that there were many truly Christian aspects 
 of Hfe, as well as the canting and humbug ones, with 
 
iSbz — 63. 151 
 
 whicli you heartily sympathized, and which you were able 
 and disposed to delineate ? I was not. 
 
 " Perhaps I had no ground for hoping that you would 
 give me a different kind of story from those you had 
 hitherto published. If so, forgive me this wrong. Pos- 
 sibly the Avish was father to the thought. But the 
 thought did not imply that any of your former novels had 
 boon false either to your own world within or to the big 
 world without — false to truth or to nature. It assumed 
 only that you could with your whole heart produce another 
 novel which, instead of showing up what was weak, false, 
 disgusting in professing Christians, might also bring out, 
 as has never yet been done, what Christianity as a living 
 power derived from faith in a living Saviour, and working 
 in and through living men and women, does, has done, and 
 will do, what no other known power can accomplish in 
 the world, for the good of the individual or mankind. If 
 no such power exists, neither Christ nor Christianity exists ; 
 and if it does, I must confess that most of our great 
 noveHsts are, to say the least of it, marvellously modest in 
 acknowledging it. The weaknesses, snares, hypocrisies, 
 gloom of some species of professing Christians are all 
 described and magnified ; but what of the genuine, 
 heaven-born Christian element ? Why, when one reads of 
 the good men in most novels, it can hardly be discovered 
 where tliey got their goodness ; but let a parson, a deacon, 
 a Church member be introduced, and at once we guess 
 where they have had their badness from — they were pro- 
 fessing Christians. 
 
 " Now all this, and much more, was the substance of 
 my sermon to you. 
 
 " Now, my good , you have been in my humble 
 
 opinion guilty of committing this fault, or, as you might 
 say, praiseworthy in doing this good, in your story. You 
 hit right and left ; give a wipe here, a sneer there, and 
 thrust a mxstj prong into another place ; cast a gloom over 
 Dorcas societies, and a glory over balls lasting till four in the 
 morning. In short, it is the old story. The shadow over 
 the Church is broad and deep, and over every other spot 
 sunshine reigns. That is the general impression which 
 
iSZ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 the story gives, so far as it goes. Tliere is notliing, of 
 course, bad or vicious in it — that coukl not be from you 
 — but quite enough, and that witliout any necessity from 
 3'our head or lieart, to keep Good Words and its editor 
 in boihng water until either or both were boiled to death. 
 I feel pretty certain that you either do not comprehend 
 my difficulties, or laugh in pity at my bigotry. Lut I 
 cannot help it. 
 
 " You do me, however, wrong in thinking, as you seem 
 to do, that apart from the structure of your st(jry, and 
 merely because of your name, I have sacrificed you to the 
 Record, and to the cry it and its followers have raised 
 against you as well as against me. My only pain is that 
 the Record will suppose that its attack has bullied me 
 into the rejection of your story. 
 
 " I know well that m}' position is difficult, and that 
 too because I do not write to please both parties, but 
 simply because I wish to produce, if possible, a magazine 
 w'hich, though too wide for the ' Evangelicals ' and too 
 narrow for the anti-' Evangelicals,' and therefore disliked by 
 both cliques, may nevertheless rally round it in the long run 
 the sympathies of all who occupy the middle ground of a 
 decided, sincere, and manly Evaugelical Christianity." 
 
 To J. M. LuDi.ow, Esq. : — 
 
 " I really cannot ascertain anything reliable about the 
 election of librarian. 
 
 " In summer the College is dead, the professors fled 
 — no one hut waiters or seagidls know whither. For aught 
 I know, the books are olf too, to wash their bindings, 
 or to purge themselves of their errors. The very porters 
 have vanished, or locked themselves up. I believe the 
 animals in the museum are gone to their native haunts. 
 The clock is stopped. The spiders have grown to a 
 fearful size in the class-rooms. Hebrew roots have 
 developed into trees ; divinity has perished. Who knows 
 your friend in that desert ? I went to inquire about him, 
 and fled in terror from the grave of the dead sciences." 
 
i862 — 63. 153 
 
 The letter which follows refers to a bereavement 
 which had overtaken his uncle, the minister of 
 Morven, and which had left him peculiarly desolate 
 and lonely in the old home of Fiunary. Norman was 
 preparing for a short tour on the Continent when 
 the sad news reached him. He at once gave up his 
 promised holiday abroad and went to Morven. 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 PiUNARY, June 27, 1863. 
 
 " It is blowing and raining outside, the Sound looks 
 cold and dreary, and within there is a dead wife and a 
 husband who would rejoice if he were laid beside her. 
 
 " Everything here seems dead — the hills, rocks, and 
 sea — all are but things ; the persons who were their life 
 have gone, and there are few even to speak of the old 
 familiar faces. Verily a man's life can be found in God 
 only. Peace we can have- — it must be ; hajopiness 
 may be." 
 
 "Monday, 6th July. — Yesterday was a holy day. With- 
 out it was one of surj)assing splendour ; within, of holy 
 peace. I preached. There was a large congregation of 
 the livinsf, but almost as larsfe of the dead, or rather the 
 Church above and below were visibly present to my spirit, 
 so that we verily seemed, ' whether alive or asleep, to live 
 together with Him,' and to be all partr,king the com- 
 munion of His Body and Blood— eating of the living 
 Bread. The old Manse family — father, grandfather and 
 grandmother, aunts and uncles, down to dear Margaret — 
 seemed to be all present, and I never enjoyed more peace, 
 and never was my heart so full. 
 
 " The scene in the churchyard was perfect, as I sat at 
 the old cross and gazed on the sea, calm as the sea of 
 glass, with scattered sails and blue hills, and the silence 
 broken by no footfall on the green grass, but by the 
 distant voice of the preacher or the sound of psalms ; 
 with the lark overhead singing in joy, or the lambs 
 bleating among the hills, or the passing hum of the bee. 
 
15-j LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 busy and contented. Life was over all, and in spite of 
 death, I think a breath of God's own life revived dear 
 John's heart. 
 
 " I send you a number of the Cltristian Observer on 
 Good Words. 
 
 •' It is too kind to me. I thank God it has lifted ofl^ 
 the burthen of dislike I was beginning to feel to the 
 ' Evangelical ' party in England, as if there was no justice, 
 mercy, or truth in them. The Record, I see, does but 
 misrepresent them all. 
 
 " I feel deeply the kind advice he gives, and sympa- 
 thize, as you know, with it. They don't know how I 
 have fought * the world ' for the Church, and Avhat I 
 have kept out. But I accept with thanks the caution. 
 
 " May God help me to know and do His will, ajid to 
 have kind thoughts of all men." 
 
 From his JouRNAl, : — 
 
 " Early in October I went to fulal engagements in Eng- 
 land. Preached in Liverpool, London, Stockport, and 
 Ashton, and collected for the diflerent objects, in all, 
 £1,087. Spent a day at Bolton Abbey — a glorious day, — 
 delighted with the scenery, and made glad by human kind- 
 ness. 
 
 " Mr. , ]\LP. for , was angry because I 
 
 preached for Nonconformists ! The Church of England 
 won't let me preach in her pulpits, and out of respect for 
 the Church he thinks I should preach for no one else ! 
 
 " I think it not only allowable, but right, in the Stock- 
 port Sunday schools, to teach reading, writing, and music 
 to the poor, who are obliged to work all the week, and 
 who can go nowhere else. What I object to is — 1, that 
 well-to-do children should be thus taught ; 2, that arith- 
 metic should be taught on Sunday. 
 
 " I like the Nonconformists for their liberality ; but 
 I am more and more convinced that a country must 
 have many Churches to express and feed different minds, 
 and that the Establishment is a huge blessing along 
 with Dissent. 
 
1862—63. 155 
 
 " Octoher, Saturday. — Went to Balmoral — found Glad- 
 stone had gone. Found the old hearty and ha];py friends. 
 Preached in the morning on ' Peace not happiness,' and in 
 the church on ' The Gadarene demoniac' 
 
 '"What do you think?' said little Princess Beatrice to 
 me. ' I am an aunt, Dr. jMacleod, yet my nephew William 
 (of Prussia) won't do what I bid him ! Both he and Eliza- 
 beth refused to shut the door! Is that not naughty?' I 
 never saw truer, or more natural, healthy children. God 
 bless them ! 
 
 " Monday. — Lady Augusta, Dr. Jenner, and I, drove to 
 Garbhalt. At night I read Burns and ' Old Mortality ' 
 aloud to the Court. The Poyal Family were not present. 
 General Grey is quite up to the Scotch. 
 
 " Tuesday. — Drove to Aberdeen to the inauguration of 
 the Prince Consort's statue. 
 
 " Here let me go back to impress on my memory the 
 glorious Monday at the Garbhalt. The day was delicious. 
 The river was full, and of that dark -brown, mossy hue 
 which forms such a fine contrast of colour to the foam of 
 the stream and the green banks. The view of the woods, 
 the valley, Invercauld, and the mountains, was superb. 
 The forests were coloured with every shade, from the 
 deep green of the pines and firs, to the golden tints of 
 the deciduous trees. Masses of sombre shadow, broken by 
 masses of light, intermingled over the brown hills and 
 broad valley, while the distant hills and clouds met in 
 glorious confusion. It was a day to be had in remem- 
 brance. 
 
 " I was asked Friday fortnight to go to Inverary to 
 meet the Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia. I did so, 
 and returned Saturday. It was a happy visit. 
 
 " The Monday following I went to visit Prince Alfred 
 at Holyrood, and staid till Wednesday. The Crown 
 Prince and Princess there. I think the Crown Prince a 
 simple, frank, unaffected, and affectionate man. 
 
 " We had an evening party, and they left on Tuesday 
 night at ten. 
 
 " We have had a small newspaper-letter controversy 
 about the Estabhshed Church becoming Episcopalian. 
 
156 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Nonsense ! We must hold fast by our own past, and 
 from this national root grow up in adaptation to the 
 necessities of the times in all things non-essential, and 
 from their nature variable. But such a union is impossi- 
 ble ! The Free Church speaks of uniting with the United 
 Presbyterian. It will be a queer evolution in history, 
 utterly inexplicable on any principle save that of church 
 ambition. 
 
 " They will cease to exist the moment they join. They 
 will have lost all, the U. P.'s gained all, and we much. 
 Our strength must be in the width of our sympathies — in 
 our national iwclusiveness, not ^a;clusiveness. 
 
 " An amusing, silly, yet not unimportant event has 
 occurred in relation to Good ^yoTds. The Free Presbytery 
 of Strathbogie has overtured the General Assembly of the 
 Free Church against it. Against a CcZ. periodical, with 
 which they have nothing to do ! This is to me very 
 interesting as a social phenomenon. Oh, my God. help 
 me to be charitable ! Help me to be weak to the weak, 
 to be silent about them, and to do Thy will ! 
 
 ''November 27th. — Thank God, my working man's 
 church is in a fair way of being finished. I have 
 realised £1,700, and I feel assured God will give me the 
 £2,500. 
 
 " We have taken ground for a school and a church at 
 Parkhead. All in faith that God will provide tlie money 
 for both. 
 
 " The workinsf men's services have been carried on since 
 November 1, and never were better attended. Thank 
 God! 
 
 " But I have boon two years trying to get up a working 
 man's church. There are noble exceptions ; but I have 
 found shocking illustrations of the spirit of greed among 
 the wealthy. 
 
 " The sun of life is setting. Let me work, and rest in 
 soul. 
 
 " Thackeray is dead, a most kind-hearted man. ^I.ic- 
 nab told me that he had him in charge coming home from 
 Calcutta, and that the day after he parted from him in 
 London, the boy returned, and throwing his arms about 
 
i862 — 63. I5y 
 
 Ms neck, burst into tears, from sheer affection in meetino- 
 his friend again. He said he never knew a more lovino- 
 boy. Thackeray was in Weimar the year before I was 
 there. We had a long talk about the old place and 
 people. I felt he had a genuine heart. 
 
 "Delivered again my lecture on East and West in 
 Glasgow. I think God is giving me a great work to do 
 in Glasgow for the poor. It must and will be done by 
 some one, why not me ? I am nothing except as an 
 instrument, and God can make use of me. 
 
 "D.V., let this be my work for '64." 
 
ClIAPTEE XYII. 
 
 1864—65. 
 
 HE lias given in ' Eastward' so full an account of 
 his visit to Palestine that it would be super- 
 fluous to quote at any length from the letters he sent 
 to his family. He was accompanied on this tour 
 by Mr. Strahan, his publisher, and by his brother 
 Donald ; and from first to last it afforded him 
 unmingled enjoyment. Every new event, whether 
 it were a cyclone or a donkey-ride, gave him fresh 
 pleasure ; every remarkable spot, from Malta to 
 Constantinople, stirred his enthusiasm. 
 
 Any one who has travelled in Palestine can under- 
 stand how fatiguing it must have been for a man of 
 his age and physique to pass days in the saddle in such 
 a climate. Yet there were few evenings on which 
 the encampment was not made a scene of merriment 
 by his good-natured fun with the Fellahin or Bedawin 
 who crowded round the tents. He had provided 
 himself, before Leaving London, with musical snuff- 
 boxes and fireworks, and it was his delight to hear 
 the ' MashallahP of the astonished natives when music 
 burst out in some unexpected corner, or when a 
 rocket whizzed aloft and fell in a shower of fire. He 
 
i864 — 65. ,5g 
 
 claimed this use of fireworks as an original inven- 
 tion for the protection of travellers, and he was so 
 confident of its merits that he would not have been 
 sorry had the Bedawin of the Jordan given him a fair 
 opportunity of showing the eff'ect on their valour of 
 a discharge of crackers or a bouquet of rockets. 
 
 From Hs Jottrnal : — 
 
 "February 14. — I start to-morroAv with Donald and 
 Strahan for Palestine. To leave my wife and children and 
 parish for so long a time I feel to be very solemn. Why 
 take it ? I have a free conscience towards God — He has 
 cleared aAvay every difficulty, so that I hope, come what 
 may, that it is His will that I go — and that I am not de- 
 ceiving myself in thinking so. 
 
 " May my darling mother be preserved to me, and my 
 dear brothers and sisters. 
 
 " Oh Thou who hast hitherto led me, bring me back in 
 safety, and bless this tour for health of body and soul ! " 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 "... I cannot convey to you the impression which that 
 night's exploration of Malta made upon me. I associate it 
 with Venice and the Kremlin as the three sights which 
 most surpassed my expectation and delighted me, though 
 in different ways. The night was glorious ; I read a note 
 in the moonlight Avith the most perfect ease, and there was 
 shed over every object a subdued brightness, which, with 
 the perfect calm and silence everywhere, gave the whole 
 scene a marvellous beauty. We passed uj) steep narroAV 
 streets, the houses so oriental-looking, with flat roofs and 
 every variety of balcony — quite Moorish. We stood before 
 the palace and church of the old knights, and could dis- 
 tinguish every tracery of the Saracenic architecture, which 
 all seemed as if erected yesterday. We reached at last the 
 Barrocca, where there is a famous view of the great harbour, 
 and were admitted into the battery through the favour of 
 
i6o LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 the gunner. We then gazed down on t'le dark water, with 
 dark ships of war asleep, and the diamond brilHant lights 
 of boats skimming along, from which a Maltese song 
 was heard from the boatmen, every note ringing through 
 the elastic air. Batteries, batteries everywhere ; huge 
 white Avails of solid rock, precipices in Imes and angles, 
 and rampart above rampart, lined with huge guns that 
 looked down into the harbour and were surrounded by 
 piles of shot ; endless — endless walls and bastions, that 
 made one giddy to look down, all gleaming in the moon- 
 light, with sentinels pacing in silence, their bayonets 
 glancing, and the English voice alone heard, * Who goes 
 there ? ' You can have no idea what a poem it was ! We 
 came at last to the bastion on which Lord Hastings is 
 buried, and I cannot tell you what I felt as I stood beside 
 his mausoleum, with the Avhite marble statue of a figure 
 reclining upon a couch. I could trace his features in the 
 moonlight, so sweet and sad. How the whole scene became 
 mingled, you know^ how, with my past life as connected 
 with his widow and family ! I felt so thankful to have 
 seen it. 
 
 " I was immensely impressed also by such buildings as 
 the Library of the Knights and the Palace of the Grand 
 Master, now the Governor's residence. It does one's heart 
 good to be made to realise the existence of men of taste 
 and power like these knights, whom God raised up to judge 
 Israel and to defend the Church from the Philistine Turks. 
 In Scotland we forget all that was here done by God, ' in 
 various times and divers manners,' for the good of the 
 Church and of the world. We know more about the 
 Burcfhcrs and Anti-Burijfhers than about these grand 
 knights who did their part so well, but who, when they 
 had done this, Avere removed for something better." 
 
 To his Children : — 
 
 From Jaffa. 
 " Dr. Philip, the missionary, was waiting for us, and had 
 horses, so we set off to his farm. It was a lovely starry 
 night, Avithout a moon. We passed through lanes of 
 
1864 — 65. 
 
 i6i 
 
 Cactus or prickly pear, in some places fifteen feet liigli, 
 on every side orange groves, and tlie wliole air filled with 
 the croaking of froufs. 
 
 " This has been another delightful day, full of interest 
 and enjoyment. This family is so nice. There are four 
 girls. They have just been sitting on my knee and say- 
 ing, * Oh, do tell another story.' I have played ' London 
 town ' with them, and given them such a tickling ! I have 
 also swallowed the tumbler, and done all my tricks, and 
 let off a Roman candle to amuse them. 
 
 " The roof of the house is flat, and I went up on it. 
 What a view ! To the west the blue sea, to the east the 
 hills of Judea. The house itself is on the plain of Sharon. 
 Within a mile is Jaffa, where Peter lived with Simon the 
 tanner, and had the vision, and where he healed Dorcas. 
 The road is close to the garden along Avhich he must have 
 travelled to Cesarea to meet the Centurion ; and to the 
 south we could see Lydda, where he healed Eneas who was 
 sick of the palsy. 
 
 " Our first encampment was very picturesque. We had 
 a beautiful, immense tent with five nice iron beds, carpets, 
 bath, wax candles, and a superb dinner of several courses, 
 Avith dessert, &c. But 
 for sleep ! The donkeys 
 braying, horses kicking, 
 camels groaning, Arabs 
 chattering, and the fleas 
 and musquitoes biting ! 
 Fatisrue alone could make 
 us sleep. But since then 
 we sleep famously. With 
 our camels, asses, and 
 horses we make a good 
 appearance. We have 
 dragoman, cook, servant, 
 and horsekeeper, with 
 camel drivers, who sleep 
 on the ground beside their 
 noble animals. Meeki, the master of the horses and asses, 
 rides in front, and the Dragoman Hassan rides behind. 
 
 VOL. 11. M 
 
i62 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " But I must tell you of our first view of Jerusalem ! 
 
 " It was about four when we reached the plain before 
 Gibeon, and saw Neby Samuel, or Mizpeh. It took about 
 half an hour's riding to get up to the top of Mizpeh. We 
 ascended to the summit of the Mosque, once a church, and 
 there ! — such a sight as remains for life on the memory. 
 There was Jerusalem ! . . . . 
 
 " The nearness of these places struck me. But the 
 grand feature, which took me quite by surprise, was the 
 huge wild wall of the Dead Sea mountains glowing red in 
 the setting sun — so wild, so majestic a setting. And then 
 all these towns in sight, with such memories ! Below us 
 was Gibeon with its memory, and the plain at our feet 
 where the battle took place, and the steep descent doA\'n 
 which Joshua drove the enemy, and then farther down the 
 plain of Philistia and the sea, Carmel in the distance. Was 
 it not marvellous ? How many had seen Jerusalem from 
 this point ! Here Occur de Lion first saw it, and millions 
 more. 
 
 " We rode into Jerusalem by St. Stephen's Gate, with 
 Olivet to the left, Gethsemane below. I took off my hat, 
 and in my heart blessed God, as my horse's hoofs clattered 
 through the gate." 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 jERl7SALE>r, Talm Siindaij, 20th March. 
 
 " I went out this morning to the Mount of Olives about 
 ten o'clock. The morning was hot but not sultry. I 
 walked down the Via Dolorosa, as every street in Jerusalem 
 may well bo called, if filth and rubbish may be called 
 dolorous. I went out by St. Stephen's Gate, crossed the 
 Kedron, and ascended Olivet on the Bethany road until I 
 reached the top where Christ wept over Jerusalem. There 
 I paused. The spot is certain. I sat there and read 
 Mark xiii. (see v. 3). You can tell within a few yards 
 wliere He stopped and gazed. All was perfect silence. The 
 birds were singing among the olives, the bee hummed 
 from flower to fiower. 0pi)0site was the city, from 
 which no sound proceeded. Yet I could have made my 
 
1864 — 65. 163 
 
 words heard by any one standing on tlie Temple area 
 There was a holy stillness in the scene quite indescribable. 
 I then walked slowly over a part of Olivet until the road 
 above Bethany appeared. It wound below me. Along it 
 that procession had come on Palm Sunday. Along it He 
 led his disciples on the day of the ascension, and from the 
 point in sight above the village He probably ascended. I 
 knelt down and prayed among the olives, and thanked God 
 for all my marvellous mercies, and commended you all to 
 His care, and dedicated myself anew to His service. I 
 retraced my steps, and descended to the Kedron through 
 the vast burial-place of the Jgavs. It is an old tradition 
 with them that here is to be the Day of Judgment, and 
 that to this spot all souls must pass through the earth. 
 To save trouble, they are here buried. The hill side 
 is paved with grave-stones all directed towards the Temple, 
 and having Hebrew inscriptions. Hundreds and thousands 
 lie here. Jews from every quarter of the globe, Rabbins 
 and rascals, men of God and men of gold, have sought a 
 resting-place here ever since the destruction of the Temple. 
 I never saw such a valley of dry bones. It reaches up 
 nearly to the spot where Christ wept over Jerusalem, and 
 is at once a sad comment on Sis tears, and yet rebukes 
 one when in despair it is said of the Jews, * Can these dry 
 bones live V 
 
 " I passed Gethsemane, but did not enter. It is sur- 
 rounded by a high wall, and is laid out like a cafe restaurant. 
 I don't believe in it, so I passed on farther up the valley, 
 until I reached a spot which v/as interesting to me as one 
 which would have ansv^ered all the requirements of Calvary 
 move than any I have seen 
 
 " There is really nothing interesting in Jerusalem itself. 
 All the streets are narrow lanes, like the closes in Edin- 
 burgh ; some of them covered over to keep the heat out, 
 some paved with slippery stones, some rough earth. At 
 the church of the Holy Sepulchre I was most profoundly 
 touched by watching the pilgrims who crushed in and out. 
 They were mostly Russians and Copts, with Greeks from 
 the Levant. Oh ! what faces, what marvellous faces, 
 dresses and expressions ! One was carried centuries back. 
 
 M 2 
 
1 64 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 The intense and atfectionate devotion with which some 
 kissed the sepulchre was to me very touching. It was as 
 a God to them. There are at present some EngHsh devotees, 
 male and female, here, half puppies, half superstitious. In 
 
 this hotel is a Mr. , who signs himself ' Priest of the 
 
 Church of England,' who seems to be father confessor 
 to an elderly rich lady. They walk with candles in the 
 processions, and attend all the services. But I have no 
 time to tell you of the odd half-cracked characters who 
 come to this city. ' The Church,' ' The Jews,' ' The 
 Millennium ' are the crotchets. The Jews and the Moslems 
 have their crazes also." 
 
 To his Sister Jane : — 
 
 From Nazareth, March 24th, 1SG4. 
 
 " An hour ago I left my tent and paced slowly along a 
 j^ath which led to a low ridge of hills, or 'a brae face.' 
 The moon was shining gloriously among the stars, our own 
 northern stars, in a cloudless sky. I sat down and gazed on 
 a small town which clasped the low hills on the opposite 
 side of the narrow valley, like a necklace of white coral. At 
 one end, and down in the valley a few hundred yards, were 
 the lights from our tents, which, in the pure air, scintillated 
 like diamonds. Not a sound Avas heard but the barking 
 of dogs, and the croaking of frogs. You can understand 
 my feelings better than I can describe them when I tell 
 you that the village was Nazareth ! And you can sym- 
 patliize with me when I say to you that, after gazing 
 awhile in almost breathless silence, and thinking of Him 
 Avho had there lived and laboured and preached ; and see- 
 ing in the moonlight near me the well of the city to which 
 He and ]\Iary had often come, and, farther off, the white 
 preci2)ice over which they had threatened to cast Him ; and 
 then tracing in my mind the histories connected with other 
 marvellous scenes in His life, until ' Jesus of Nazareth, 
 King of the Jews' died at Jerusalem, and all the inexpres- 
 sibly glorious results since that day which has made the 
 name of this place identical with the glory of the world ; 
 and when I thought of all that I and others dear to mo 
 
i864 — 65. 165 
 
 had received from Him, and from all He was and did, 
 you will not wonder that I knelt down and poured out 
 my soul to God in praise and prayer. And in that prayer 
 there mingled the events of my past life, and all my 
 friends whom I loved to mention by name, and my dear 
 father, and the old Highlands, the state of the Church 
 and of the world, until I felt Christ so real, that had He 
 appeared and spoken it would not have seemed strange. 
 I returned more solemnized than from the Communion, 
 and bless God for such an hour. Disappointed with Pales- 
 tine ! I cannot tell you what it has been to me, more, far, 
 far more than I anticipated. It has been a Holy Land 
 every step of it, I have drunk instruction and enjoyment 
 by every pore. I don't care for the towns, for they are 
 not the towns, but totally different — but the sites of them, 
 the views from them, the relationship of one to another ! 
 Oh ! it is inexpressibly deliglitful. Think only of this 
 one day. From an old tower in Jezreel I looked out at one 
 window ; there was Gilboa beside me, and below, srleamincr 
 in the sunshine, the well of Gideon, and beyond Bethshan, 
 where the bodies of Saul and Jonathan were hung up, 
 and the ridge of Little Hermon, over which Saul went to 
 Endor, and beyond the hi]ls of Gilead, and the plain up 
 which Jehu drove, and the spot, or very near it, Avhere 
 Naboth's vineyard must have been. From another windoAv 
 w^as Little Hermon, and, in a green nook, Shunem. From 
 another window Taanach, Megiddo and Carmel ; while the 
 glorious plain of Esdraelon, dotted with Bedawin tents and 
 flocks, stretched around ! Then in an hour after we 
 entered Nain, and gazed on Tabor beside us ; and after 
 remaining at Nain, and reading the story of the blessed 
 miracle, we crossed the plain, and for an hour wound our 
 way through the little glens (so like the Highlands) of the 
 mountains of Galilee, until we came to this sweet retired 
 nest among the lovely knoives. What a day in a man's 
 life ! and yet it is but one of many. 
 
 " -Easter Sunday. — I have come down from the ruins of 
 the old Castle of Safed. The day is glorious, and more so 
 from there having been deluges of rain all night and this 
 morning, and masses of cumuli clouds break the blue space 
 
1 66 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 of the sky, and cast on the landscape deep shadows that 
 relieve the eye from the usual glare. I was seated on the 
 highest point of a hill which sweeps up from the Lake of 
 Tiberias nearly three thousand feet, and is encircled by the 
 tovN'u of Safed, and crowned with the grand ruins of the 
 old Crusader castle. Below lay the Lake of Tiberias, 
 still and calm ; the green plain of Genesareth, -with 
 the ruins of Magdala, and prol3ably Capernaum, below us 
 round a bay. On the opposite side was the valley where 
 the miracle of the Gadarene demoniac took place. The 
 end of the lake where the Jordan enters the lake, and 
 where Bethsaida was, was concealed by a hill ; but there 
 below lay the immortal lake itself — the most famous lake in 
 the world — about which I need not speak to you — and 
 when looking at it, could hardly speak to any one. Beyond 
 the lake stretched the table-land of the Hauran on to the 
 horizon. The green valley of the Jordan was seen at the 
 south end. To the right was Tabor, and the mountains 
 of Galilee and Samaria farther away, with sunlight and 
 cloud and shadows over them. 
 
 " It was my last look of Tiberias, and, with it, of the true 
 Holy Land. I can trace Christ's steps no more. I had 
 sailed on Tiberias, Friday evening (Good Friday), and at 
 our request the fishermen let down their net for a draught 
 and caught nothing, though they often get great hauls. 
 We rode along its shores past Magdala, and now I have 
 bidden it farewell for ever in this life. I felt to-day as 
 when taking my last look of Jerusalem, as if it were the 
 last look of some beloved friend, whom, however, I hope 
 to see purified and renewed in the new heavens and the 
 new earth. My heart is full as I say farewell. I shall see 
 the Lebanon, Sidon, Damascus and other places, but not 
 such holy spots as I have been gazing on Avith prayer and 
 praise ; spots in which heaven and earth, men and angels, 
 have met, and in which things have taken place and words 
 have been uttered, which have moulded the history of the 
 world and Avill be more famous in eternity than in time, 
 and among saints in Heaven than among sinners on earth." 
 
x864 — 65. 167 
 
 To Mrs. Macleod : — 
 
 Froxt Athens. 
 
 " I am so thankful to have seen this after Palestine. It 
 does not lessen my first love. It completes the circle of 
 the past — Paul and the Areopagus unite the two. There 
 are many striking contrasts between them. 
 
 " When I look over the landscape from the Acropolis, or 
 journey over the country around, there is not a village near, 
 nor a ruin, nor spot, with the excej^tion of Salamis and 
 Marathon, that is famous for any great fact which the world 
 knows of or feels interested in. In Palestine every hill 
 and village is alive with history. It is Athens alone — 
 there it is the whole country. Then again, while I 
 recognise all that Athens has given to the world, whether 
 of art, philosophy, histor}'', poetry, or eloquence, as precious 
 gifts from God, a grand portion of the education of our 
 race, which has told as no other has done on the culture 
 of mankind — yet how different in kind, in universality, in 
 intensity, has been the influence of Palestine ! An old 
 shepherd who lived four thousand years ago, like Abraham, 
 is almost worshipped by the Mahommedans, Jews, and 
 Christians, and is known as "El Khulil," the Friend of 
 God. What has he been — what have others in Palestine 
 been — to the spirits and hearts of the race ? While the 
 kings and gods of Egypt have passed away, the people 
 who live beneath the Acropolis know him, and don't know 
 the names even of their mighty dead who have nevertheless 
 immortalised their city. There are thirty marble chairs in 
 the Theatre of Dionysus, which were the official seats of 
 the priests of Bacchus, and of the different village or 
 parish temples. They have not a representative on earth ! 
 Athens has given much to the world ! but in Palestine 
 the Father was revealed to it. That is the gift of gifts 
 to the whole family of man." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 "May 1, Sunday Morning. — I returned Friday night 
 from my tour. I record the mercy of God to me and 
 mine, but I have no words to express what that has been. 
 
168 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 I liave had one of tlic most glorious tours which man can 
 have in this -world — Malta, Alexandria, Cairo, Suez, 
 Joppa, Jerusalem by Bethoron, Hebron, the Dead Sea, 
 Marsaba, north to Tiberias by Samaria, Nazareth, Safed, 
 Sidon, Boyrout, Damascus, Cyprus, Rhodes, Smyrna, 
 Athens, Marathon, Constantinople, and home by the 
 Danube, and Vienna, Dresden, Hanover. I have not 
 had an hour's ill health or anxiety of mind. We have all 
 been happy and enjoyed everything intensely. I cannot 
 count my gains. I feel as if I had searched for hid 
 treasure, expecting hundreds and found thousands. And 
 then at home the mercy has been so wonderful. Every- 
 thing in my parish has gone on with perfect smoothness. 
 
 " And now the desire of my heart is, that the same God 
 of mercy and grace may enable me to turn this and all He 
 has given me to the best possible account for the good of 
 my ])cople and country. May I be able to gather up the 
 fragments of time that remain ! May I be enabled to do 
 good to my fellow-men by word, by my pen, by my life 
 and labour ; to live simply, truly, and unselfishly ; and so 
 throu<?h faith in God to be carried through the battle of 
 life which rages loud and long around me, among the poor 
 and ignorant and among ecclesiastics ! God of truth, lead 
 me into all truth ! God of power, strengthen me ! God 
 of wisdom, direct me ! God of love, fill my heart ! And 
 grant that when days of darkness fidl — when affliction 
 comes, sickness, or weak old age, I may be strengthened 
 in the ftiith of Thy Fatherhood by recalling the marvellous 
 mercies of these j^ast months, added to all those received 
 from Thy hand, when verily I am unworthy of the least ! 
 Amen and amen. So ends a memorable period of my 
 life! 
 
 ''June 3, One a.m. — I this day enter my fifty-second 
 year. I do so blessing and praising God," 
 
 The General Assembly of this year unanimously 
 appointed him to the Convenership of the India Mis- 
 sion ; and with much gratitude for the confidcnco 
 thus reposed in him, he determined to devote his 
 
i864 — 65. 169 
 
 energies to its advancement. To awaken a lively 
 interest in Missionary affairs, and to promote a more 
 effective method of conducting them, was henceforth 
 to be one of the great works of his life. His journals 
 show how many places he visited, and indicate the 
 variety of meetings he addressed with this view, but 
 they convey a very inadequate impression of the time 
 he had to spend in reading, in correspondence, and in 
 anxious thought. 
 
 From his JoimNAL : — 
 
 "June 12, IS'^4. — There are several events in my life 
 which I should like to record. The first of these is the unani- 
 mous offer — uusought for and unexpected, God knoweth — 
 by the General Assembly of the Convenership of the India 
 Mission. I have accepted of this without doubt, though 
 not without solemn and prayerful consideration — for I 
 have tried, at least for the last twenty-five years, to accept 
 of whatever work is offered to me in God's providence. I 
 have, rightly or wrongly, always believed that a man's 
 work is given to him — that it need not so much be sought 
 as accepted — that it is floated to one's feet like the infant 
 Moses to Pharaoh's daughter, 
 
 " Mission work has been a possession of my spirit ever 
 since I became a minister ; I feel that God has long been 
 educating me for it. I go forth tolerably well informed as 
 to facts, and lovinof the work itself, with heart, soul, and 
 strength, I accept it from God, and have perfect confidence 
 in the power and grace of God to give us the men and the 
 money. Thank God for calling me in my advanced years 
 to so glorious and blessed a work. 
 
 " We want men — God-lovino- men. These are to be 
 obtained chiefly through prayer. ' Pray the Lord of the 
 Harvest to send forth labourers.' We want money, but 
 the silver and gold are the Lord's, and He can open up 
 every purse, and my hope is in Him. 
 
 " It is my intention to address Presbyteries, and to hold 
 
170 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 public meetings everywhere for aiding the glori()us work. 
 The Lord be with me to give me the Spirit of Christ and 
 of a sound mind to consider my brethren, to sujjport the 
 weak, to be patient to all, to help the weak to good, and 
 to trust God fur the increase, while we plant and water 
 according to their need. 
 
 " An immense deal has yet to be done. We have to re- 
 consider the whole idea of missions — the preaching mis- 
 sion, and how to preach and what to preach, so as to get 
 at the Hindoo and Mussulman mind ; the teaching mis- 
 sion, and how the child is to be treated in relation to his 
 heathen parent ; the tract mission, and wluit sort of 
 tracts India needs ; the healing mission, and the place 
 which hospital and alms-giving should liold. We have 
 to consider the organization and local government of 
 missions, and how to build up congregations so as to bring 
 the moral power, the character, and the Christian order of 
 the family and the congregation to bear on the work. We 
 have to consider the retiring allowances for missionaries 
 and the sick, the relationship of the missions of one 
 Church to another, &c. The Lord be with us ! His 
 Spirit can do it. He loves it. It is His work. We are 
 but fellow-workers. 
 
 " I have lost a dear friend in Principal Leitch. Poor 
 dear Boss ! I cannot think of the world as henceforth 
 without him — so simple and true, so loyal, so genuine ! I 
 have, with very few exceptions, no such friend on earth — 
 none Avho knew my failings as he did, none to cover 
 them as he did, none to love me in spite of them as he 
 did. Well, he is another portion of my treasure in heaven ! 
 And so is Tom Baird, the carter, the beadle of my working 
 man's church, as noble a fellow as ever lived — God-fearing, 
 true, unselfish. I shall never forget what he said when I 
 asked him to stand at the door of the working man's con- 
 gregation and when I thought he was unwilling to do so in 
 his working clothes. ' If,' said I, ' you don't like to do it, 
 
 Tom, if you are ashamed ' ' Ashamed ! ' he exclaimed 
 
 as he turned round ui^on me. * I'm mair ashamed o' yer- 
 sel', sir. Div' ye think that I believe, as ye ken I do, that 
 Jesus Chri.st, who died for me, was strip[)ed o' his raiment 
 
1864 — 6s. 171 
 
 on the cross, and that I Na, na, I'm prood tae stan' at 
 
 the door.' Dear sfood fellow ! There he stood for seven 
 Avinters without a sixpence of pay ; all from love, though 
 at my request the working congregation gave him a silver 
 watch. 
 
 " When he was dying from small-pox, the same un- 
 selfish nature appeared. When asked if they would let 
 me know, he replied, ' There's nae man leevin' I like as I 
 do him. I know he wad come. But he shouldna come 
 on account of his wife and bairns, and so ye maun na' tell 
 him ! ' I never saw him in his illness, never hearing of 
 his danger till it was too late. 
 
 *' This India mission presses itself with greater solemnity 
 on me every day ; I feel Jesus has given us to do the 
 noblest work which can occupy the energies of men here 
 below or of angels above — not foreign missions only, but 
 all missions, every effort, from that in our own hearts, our 
 own families, our congregations, to make men know God, 
 and thus to respond to His own love. All our ditfi- 
 culties are in ourselves. We are so poor, so mean, so 
 cowardly ; there is such a want of thorough consecration, 
 which is just a loving spirit of true liberty and perfect 
 peace. It alarms me greatly, yet not enough. 
 
 " I will labour and pray for the establishment of strong 
 missions, and, above all, — above all for men who peril their 
 souls, their all in Christ ! Oh, for godly men to be mis- 
 sionaries. A godly man has God's spirit with him to guide 
 him, direct him, bless him. This is the all in all. Such 
 a man must be a useful man. A man of love, real and 
 genuine, is the godly man, Jesus Christ, Lord of the 
 Harvest, for this I pray ! give us godly missionaries ! Lord, 
 1 believe ; help my unbelief. Oh, my Saviour, bless this 
 mission work ! My beloved Saviour, my hope is in Thee ! 
 
 "I wish £10,000 a year at least, and ten men at least, 
 to preach Christ to India, If I had not faith in Christ I 
 sliould des^^air." 
 
172 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To his Mother : — 
 
 July 10th, 1864. 
 
 " This goes moroly to certify to you, on the best 
 authority, that (1) I have addressed, since I saw you, both 
 Presbyteries and public meetings at Dunoon, Perth, Dun- 
 keld, Cupar-Angus, Forfar, Cupar-Fife ; (2) that this week 
 I have to do ditto at Dunse, Greenlaw, Chirnside, Lin- 
 lithgow ; (3) the week after at Galashiels, Selkirk, Kelso, 
 Hawick, Melrose ; (4) that I am not suffering from sore 
 throat, sore back, head, heart, lungs, brain, nerves, muscles, 
 sinews, legs, arms, back, neck, heels, toes — but am from 
 tip to toe jolly. 
 
 " My work, bless God, goes on beautifully. All so kind 
 and cordial. I feel more thankful than I can tell, and I 
 am in perfect peace and in great feather." 
 
 To Dr. Charteris : — 
 
 Sth Augiid, 1864. 
 
 " The missionary who we hoped would have gone 
 withdraws, as his parents say ' No.' Parental affirmatives 
 are generally gladly given to good money prospects in the 
 East, or to prospects of promotion, with the chance of a 
 bullet through the brain of their beloved. 
 
 " Faith, if not dead, sleepeth. "\Ye cannot create 
 missionaries. We can pray and wait — ay, for a lifetime, 
 if needs be. 
 
 " It would in the end be a rich gain to the Church if 
 deep silence for years was the only response to her call for 
 missionaries, and that this brought Divinity professors and 
 ministers to their knees before a throne of grace. 
 
 " How can Christ do many, or any, mighty works, if 
 there be no faith ? How can He give, if we don't as a 
 Church ask like men in earnest ?" 
 
 From his Jottrnal : — 
 
 PrrLociTRrE. 
 
 " Thursday, the anniversary of my marriage. We went 
 up Glen Tilt, and had a pic-nic with our children only ; 
 and, amidst the glories of the earth, rejoiced that they 
 
1864 — 65. 173 
 
 were born into such a world, with such a Father and 
 Saviour. Oh yes, very, very thankful were we both. Oh, 
 my Father, the only thing I dread is sin in my darlings. 
 Good Lord, loving Father, deliver us from that hell ! 
 
 " We had another fine day at the Loch, and all ended by 
 an evening in company with dear John Shairj), at the river 
 side, hearing John McPherson, the piper, play out his 
 glorious pibrochs. What a power they have over me ! I 
 wejDt like a child hearing them. My father and all the 
 romantic past mingled with their every note.* 
 
 " My children are a source of unspeakable blessing, yet 
 Christian anxiety. I feel more and more that there is a 
 life totally different in kind from the life in the natural 
 man ; a life in the Spirit, which must be begun and 
 developed into life everlasting by God's Sjnrit, for which 
 we must pray. How solemn is the fact of the / — the 
 personality — the out-of-us individualism of each child ! 
 How impossible to renew the soul of one we would die 
 for. Oh, my Father, it is Thy work ! We cling to Thee. 
 
 " Septeviber 6. — Left Saturday morning to visit the 
 Prince of Wales at Abergeldie. 
 
 " It is a glorious Highland residence. The golden pil- 
 lared pines, the royal heather, the great sweep of the 
 valley, the high ranges, the quiet ! 
 
 * "When we speak of the ba?-T>ipe we mean the great war-pi23e, 
 played not by the wretched half-gipsy performers who jiresume to 
 fin'j-er it, but by that personification of dignity — pardon the expression 
 — the genuine piper, whose slow and measured tread and erect bear- 
 ing combine to express his earnest love for, and his sense of, the 
 dignity of his calling. The music, moreover, we assume to be the 
 pibroch only. We call the pibroch ' music ' just as we would that of 
 the music of the midnight storm as it roars -ihrough the pine forest, or 
 the screams of the blast among the mountain peaks, or the music 
 of the crested sea-wave as it thunders on the rocky shore. And 
 to those who understand the carefully composed structure of the 
 music of the bagpipe, there is a pathos and depth of feeling sug- 
 gested by it which a Highlander alone can fully sympathize with ; 
 associated too, as it alwaj's is, with the most touching memories of his 
 home and country. It summons up both before his inward eye. It 
 revives the faces and forms of the departed. It opens up panoramas 
 of mountain, loch, and glen ; and thus, if it excites the stranger to 
 laughter, it excites the Highlander to tears, as no other music can do, 
 in spite of the most refined culture of other years." — " Mountain, Loch, 
 and Olen." 
 
17+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " I hfifl a sweet walk in the forest. 
 
 " Left on Monda}'^ at 1 1 for Inverness, and have had 
 meetings at Tain, 500 or GOO present, mostly of the 
 Free Church. 
 
 " I have been amazed with Ross and Sutherland. I 
 never beheld such a combination of highly cultivated fields 
 with good wooding and picturesque scenery. It has the 
 luxurious cultivation of Kelso with the scenery of the 
 Highlands. Yet this country which has but one form of 
 Church government, one confession of faith, one form of 
 Avorship, is more literally divided, more sectarian, than any 
 country I have ever been in. The feelings of the Free 
 Church to the Establishment (for it is chiefly on their part, 
 beyond doubt) are hardly equalled by those of the Roman 
 Catholics in Galway to a Protestant missionary, or those of 
 the Mohammedan in Damascus to a Christian. So it has 
 been hitherto, and that, as usual, owing to the clergy, 
 those sources of so much good and of so much evil to the 
 Church of God. 
 
 " But I was most thankful to see men that were worthies 
 of the Free Kirk come to my meetings. This eased my 
 heart. I prayed God to be able to speak truth, that would 
 reach deeper down than all their controversies, and such 
 as would make for peace. Would that my brethren would 
 concentrate themselves in faith on doing good, ' seeking 
 first the kingdom of God,' and leaving Christ to arrange 
 and add all other things unto them. 
 
 "A Sutherland missionary to India would be a blessing 
 to all of them and to their people. 
 
 " October C. — Have had meetings at Inverary, Falkirk, 
 and Hamilton (Presbytery). I have been fagged, bothered, 
 addled, dowie." 
 
 To Mrs. Macleod : — 
 
 Aberdeen, October \(Mh. 
 
 " I have a short time before I address the Synod at two, 
 to write to you. I don't know why I should feel so very 
 much to-day ; but I have been for two hours preparing 
 with head and heart to speak Avorthily on this great sub- 
 ject. My heart trem1)les for the ark of God. I do feel 
 
1864—65. 175 
 
 this to be a crisis in our mission history, and I am so 
 anxious. In proportion as I believe in the certainty of 
 success if we seek the Lord, and humbly endeavour to do 
 His work, in that proportion I feel the terrible sin and 
 eternal loss if it is not done. I heard Doctor Duff last 
 night. I have not seen him since we met in Paris, long 
 ago, at the Alliance, nor have I heard him since he made 
 his great speech in the Assembly of '38. He is, of course, 
 older, and visibly feebler ; but that very feebleness was to 
 me so touchingiy eloquent. How humbled I felt before him., 
 how inwardly I revered and blessed the old soldier of the 
 cross. I have desires and words, weak and feeble. But 
 he is the living embodiment of work done." 
 
 To a Eelative who had announced his betrothal : — 
 
 " Of course I know all you feel and all you think. 
 ' You feel that ' — of course you do — ' and that if ' — of 
 coarse — ' and that no man ' — of course — ' and that your 
 own heart can tell * — no doubt of it — ' and that when you 
 came home last night you ' — who denies it ? — ' and that 
 the solemnity of — I agree with you. 
 
 " God bless you, my dear boy ! No one more deeply 
 sympathizes with you." 
 
 The following letter was written after opening a 
 box of edible fungi which had lain in the honse for 
 some days, during his absence from home, having been 
 sent him by Dr. Esdaile, well known for his advocacy 
 of the use of horseflesh, and for his experiments in 
 pisciculture, and still better known for his heroic and 
 successful efforts to found a College for Ministers' 
 Daughters : 
 
 To the Eev. Dr. Esdaile, Eescobie : — 
 
 Oct. 2oth, 1861. 
 " M}'- dear Easdail — or Esdale — or Esdaile, for such a 
 queer fellow cannot be easily made out. I received your 
 
176 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 putldock stools after I returned home from a mission tour. 
 As holy things, or as noxious things, they were set aside by 
 the family, with mingled feelings of awe, mystery, and 
 terror. That death was in the box was obvious to the 
 senses — but death of wliat ? Was it a new murder ? A 
 man's head, or a whole child, or a leg of some Bricj-gs ? 
 I myself opened the box with one careful hand while I 
 held my nose with another. It was an awful evidence of 
 the doctrine of corruption ! But not of the will, and so I 
 tliank you heartily for your goodwill in sending me the 
 deadly poison and congratulate myself on my escape. 
 Why did you expect the Barony ? Your sermon Avas 
 highly acceptable ; but why kill the parson ? Esdaile ! 
 you know w4iat you are, and if you don't stop these 
 savage fcastings on mare's flesh and mushrooms, I'll have 
 you up as a witch or murderer. 
 
 "Thanks I say for your foul intentions, and for my 
 lucky escape. 
 
 " Go along ! You mushroom Avasting, horseflesh eating, 
 oyster breeding, mussel growing, salmon fishing, Ministers* 
 Daughters training, good for everything mortal." 
 
 To his MoTHEE : — 
 
 " I have been every night, except Saturday, away from 
 my own family ! It is very hard, but ' what can a fellow 
 do?' 
 
 " Dr. Duff has written me a very kind letter to meet 
 him here next week. 
 
 " The Free Kirk have subscribed handsomely to my 
 mission. 
 
 " The first man I called on gave me £250 ! and wrote 
 such a nice note." 
 
 From his Joitbnal : — 
 
 " Dec. 18. — I was invited by Prince Alfred to spend the 
 14th, the anniversary of his father's death, with him at 
 Darmstadt. The Queen commanded me to see her before I 
 went, so on Monday I went to Windsor. I told her that tho 
 
I-— e.c. 
 
 ^77 
 
 more I was confided in, the more I felt my responsibility 
 to speak the truth. That night I went, via Calais, tc 
 Darmstadt. The Prince joined the train at Bonn. 
 
 " To-day (Sunday) I expounded in the forenoon, and 
 now express my grateful thanks to my Father, my guide, 
 my help, my all, for His mercy to me during this last 
 heavy and important week. 
 
 " Oh, let me never lose my trust in Him, or be afraid 
 of accepting any duty imposed on me in His Providence, 
 but step out bravely and humbly at His bidding, sure of 
 His blessing. 
 
 " I have during the past j^ear been pretty steadily in my 
 own pulpit, but with the exception of visiting the sick, I 
 have been able to do little parish work, which deeply pains 
 me. I have written eleven Sermons for Good Words and 
 two Articles ; prepared some of the memoir of my father, 
 and first part of ' Home Preacher.' 
 
 To A. Strahan, Esq. : — 
 
 Midnight, i^^f/^''''^^'''^^^'^' 
 ( 1st January, 1865. 
 
 " God bless you, and may He enable you and me, with 
 honest, simple, believing, and true hearts, to do His will, 
 and, come weal or woe, to make Good Words a means of 
 doing real good to our fellow-men, and so pleasing our 
 Master that, when time shall be no more. He will receive 
 us as faithful servants. Amen." 
 
 From his Jouenal : — 
 
 ''January Srd. — Let me here record, as throwing 
 some light on the folly of presentiments and dreams^ 
 the following facts, without the slightest shadow of 
 exaggeration. 
 
 ^ " One evening when sitting alone, before starting by a 
 night train for London, I got into an unaccountably de- 
 pressed state of mind. The thought came that I, or my 
 family, might be entering some great trial. It might be 
 a railway accident ? Yes !— so said I to mvself,— I shall for 
 
 VOL. II. N 
 
178 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 the first time in my life take an insurance ticket for £1,000. 
 This resolution brought my day dream to a conclusion, 
 and I burst into a fit of laughing at my absurd fore- 
 boding, -which I felt was from over work. AVishing 
 to change a half-crown to pay the cab before taking 
 my ticket, I put one down at the ticket window, and, 
 without speaking a word, received an insurance ticket 
 for £1,000 and 3c?.., I think, back. Having forgotten my 
 dream, I was taken all aback, and started. ' I never asked 
 for a ticket,' I said, and was returning it, when some 
 one over my shoulder said, ' I'll take it. Doctor.' But 
 so impressed was I by the odd coincidence that I took 
 it for the first (and last) time in my life. I never slept 
 more soundly, and never had a safer or pleasanter 
 journey. 
 
 (2.) As to dreams. The night before last I awoke out 
 of a horrible niq-htmare. I thought the house was l)urn- 
 ing — Johnnie's room on fire, and I in vain trying to take 
 the dear boy out of the flames. The fact of his being 
 ill since Sunda}' with scarlatina made the dream more pain- 
 ful. I told it in the morning, and also what had occa- 
 sioned it. The day before, wlien in the Barony, I was 
 thinking what I should do if the church was on fire, and 
 the idea for a few minutes quite possessed me, as any day 
 it might have become a most complicated problem. 
 
 " After telling this dream, the servant who slept next 
 room to my boy, both doors being open, told me he had 
 sprung up in the middle of the night, and cried out to her 
 that his room was on fire, which was all nonsense. Now, on 
 examination, I found that my brother had said that day, 
 in his hearing, to my wife, that the only reason he dis- 
 liked rooms in the attics, like his, was in event of fire. 
 This had produced his dream." 
 
 To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. : — 
 
 Jan., 1S65. 
 
 " Here am I with an Indian mission to conduct, address- 
 ing congregations, Presbyteries and Synods, a committee 
 to manage, papers to write, correspondence to carry on. 
 
1 864 — 65. 
 
 179 
 
 missionaries to send out and to buy their outfit, to finger 
 
 shirts and examine towellings, to visit my people two days 
 
 a week, preach thrice, teach a 
 
 class every Sunday, collect money 
 
 to build schools and churches (at 
 
 the rate of £1,000 a year for 14 
 
 years), to hear every man and 
 
 woman who call on me about 
 
 everything down to a sore finger, 
 
 besides having to rear a family 
 
 and keep my liver right. Hi«>-h (^ 
 
 art!" 
 
 To his brother Donald : — 
 
 " Florence ! Catch me making such a fool of myself at 
 this season ! Cadiz would be better, save for the Bay of 
 Biscay. 
 
 Barometer looking down. 
 
 " Better at home — snag and comfortable.'* 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From liis JomxAL : — 
 
 " Heard of Lincoln's death. It will, under God, be a 
 hugre blessing to the North, and be the endinof of the ac- 
 cursed South. 
 
 " Had Lee or Jeff. Davies been assassinated, what a howl ! 
 This is a mighty era in the Avorld's history. I am ashamed 
 of my country. This sympathy with the South is an in- 
 bcrutable m^^stery to me ; I cannot make it out. But I fear 
 we shall have to suffer for our grievous pride. I still hope 
 that America will be our noblest and staunehest ally. 
 
 " Oh that the Churches Avould rise in their strength 
 above mere politics, and say before God, we shall be one in 
 heart for the cfjood of the world ! 
 
 " I have never swerved in my sympathy with the North, 
 and I believe the day is not far off when we shall hardly 
 believe that Britain's s^mipathy was with the South. Oh, 
 my country ! Oh, Christian Churches ! Repent in dust 
 and ashes ! 
 
 " I cannot comprehend man's blindness on this ques- 
 tion ! I rejoice in the unity and prosperity of the grand 
 Republic ; its strength is a blessed counterpoise to conti- 
 nental despotism and more king-craft. I have the brightest 
 hopes of its future, but chie% through the influence of its 
 Churches. It is to me a mystery that Britain does not 
 rejoice in America. I do." 
 
 The innovations in public worship introduced by 
 Dr. Robert Lee, Minister of Greyfriars, Edinburgh, 
 most of which were simply restorations of the earlier 
 usage of the Church, wore now agitating the ecclesi- 
 astical mind of the country and formed the chief 
 topic of discussion at the Assembly of 1865. Public 
 opinion since then has so much changed in reference 
 to such matters, that it is difficult to realise the 
 excitement which was produced by the use of road 
 prayers and instrumental music, or to believe that it 
 was for a time doubtful whether the Church would 
 
1 864 — 65. 181 
 
 tolerate any clianges in her service, such as the 
 increasing culture of the country every day demanded 
 more loudly. Dr. Macleod was a member of this 
 Assembly, and, as might have been expected, warmly 
 espoused the side of progress. 
 
 *' I M'ould like ver}'- much to know who ' our fathers ' 
 are to Avhom there have been so many aUusions during 
 the discussion. If reference is made to those respectable 
 gentlemen in bob-wigs that used to sit here last century, 
 and if it is assumed that everything they did then is to 
 regulate us now, let tliat be plainly asserted. Some of 
 these men, doubtless, did much good in their day, and some 
 of them did very little. But to say that we are to be ruled 
 by all that they did would be just as absurd as if in the 
 year 2000 all progress was to be stopped by some earnest 
 men quoting the opinions of ' the fathers ' of this 
 generation. I should tremble at myself standing up to 
 address this House, if there was a prospect of my acting 
 as an incubus — an actual ghost — for all generations, and 
 to be called ' a father.' I take no such responsibility on 
 myself All I wish is to help the present as our fathers 
 helped our past, and as I hope our grandchildren will 
 help our future. Let us have no more appeals to the 
 fathers, but look at the question in the light of common 
 sense. 
 
 " You sj^eak of the fathers of the Church, but I go back 
 to a true father of the Church — the Apostle Paul. I do 
 not know what he would think if he were nowadays to come 
 amongst us. Would he not, in all probability, be put down 
 as a latitudinarian ? I fear very much whether some of us 
 could really understand a man who became a Jew to the 
 Jews, and a Gentile to the Gentiles, not for the love 
 of popularity, which was what he most thoroughly 
 despised, but ' that he might gain some.' I am afraid 
 there are some among us who would not comprehend him 
 if he said, ' One man esteemeth one day above another, 
 anoth r man esteemeth every day alike ; let every man be 
 persuaded in his own mind.' They would be unable to 
 
1 82 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 comprehend a man who knew from God, as an ahsohite 
 certainty, that there was nothing unclean, but could yet 
 have the grand and noble charity to say, ' To him that 
 thinkcth it unckan to him it is unclean.' I question if 
 they coulu understand a man who could say, * The kingdom 
 of God is not meat and drink, but righteousness and peace, 
 and joy in the Holy Ghost ; ' and ' he that servoth Christ 
 in these things is acceptable to God and approved of men.' 
 I do not know whether Paul would have made all the office- 
 bearers sign the Confession of Faith — Phoebe, the dea- 
 coness, for example — but I am sure of this, that he of all 
 the fathers of the Church that ever lived, not only in his 
 preaching but his life, carried out the old adage, * In things 
 essential, unity ; in things indifferent, liberty; in all things, 
 charity,' Now it is this spirit which should guide the 
 Church of Scotland ; and I think that much of our secta- 
 rianism might have been prevented if we had had a little 
 more consideration for the feelings and opinions of others, 
 and if, instead of diq'G^ing a ditch round us, and braq-ging 
 how much we differed from every other Church on earth, 
 we had made a few more bridges, and had sho^vn a little 
 more catholic feeling towards other Churches on earth ; if, 
 instead of looking to our individual selves, we had looked 
 more to the feelings and opinions of the country. For the 
 very genius of our National Church ought, in my opinion, 
 to be inclusiveness, as far as possible, and not exclusiveness. 
 
 " I think, as a Church, we ought, with the 
 
 other Presbyterian Churches in this country, to hold firm 
 by our historical past, for all that is great and good in a 
 nation has its root in the past. Let us hold fast by that 
 which is good in the past ; and as our system of Pres- 
 bytery is good, let us hold fiist by its form of government. 
 And in reference to that I beg to say, in passing, that there 
 never was a greater delusion than to imagine that the wish 
 to have an organ, or a more cultivated form of worship, 
 has anything to do with Episcopacy. So far from this, I 
 believe these improvements will serve to keep back Epis- 
 copacy ; and, under any circumstances, I make bold to say, 
 as a minister of the National Church of Scotland, that I 
 think it is my duty, as well as in accordance with my feel- 
 
1864—65. i83 
 
 injs, to stretch out a kind Land to every Scotcliman, and, 
 if I could, a kind and protecting hand to every Church in 
 this kingdom. 
 
 " I say, further, let us hold fast and firm by our Con- 
 fession of Faith. But I really wish that gentlemen would 
 feel the delicacy of these questions of tests and signatures, 
 and not be perpetually dragging up this subject. I do not 
 Ivnow at this moment any one question that requires finer 
 handling, so to sj)eak. 
 
 " I desire to see retained our whole Confession of Faith 
 as the expression of the Church's faith in the past and in 
 the present. But do not let us be the Church of the past 
 merely, let us also be the Church of the present and the 
 Church of the future ; and this I will boldly maintain, 
 that we are the freest Church at this moment in Scot- 
 land. I think honestly we are. I know our respected 
 brethren who left us do not repent doing so, and that 
 there is not a step they have taken which they would 
 not honestly and calmly take again. But I say also, 
 neither do I repent for a moment the position I have occu- 
 pied, but would calmly give over again every vote I have 
 given, and take again every step I have taken. I believe 
 that God is over-ruling all this for, perhaps, a higher good 
 than we are looking to. But, as an Established Church, 
 we are limited by a Constitution — a noble Constitution — 
 which secures us freedom, because giving us security at 
 once against the tyranny of the State and the tyranny of 
 the clergy ; and within the limits of the Constitution we 
 have freedom at this moment to examine all questions 
 brought before us, and to express our judgment upon 
 them, moulding the Church to meet the wants of the 
 country as it now is. It is on the broad ground of our 
 calling as a National Church, and the liberty we have as a 
 National Church, that I Avould desire to entertain with kind- 
 ness and thoughtfulness all these questions when we are 
 desired by any portion of the people to do so." 
 
1 84 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his JouRNAii : — 
 
 " The Assembly of 'G5 is over. One of the most 
 reactionary since '43. 
 
 " The one great evil I see in both Assemblies, and more 
 especially in that of the Free Church, is not so much any 
 decision they msiy have come to on such a ({ucstion iis 
 organs, which is an odd one in the nineteenth century, 
 as the spirit of both. 
 
 " There is too little freedom to speak in sober truth 
 against anything which the majority approves of. There 
 are suspicious whisperings, up to the howls of an ' orthodox' 
 (help the mark !) brass band, against any man who pre- 
 sumes to question, doubt, or differ regarding non-essentials. 
 Young men are terrified lest they should be considered 
 ' dangerous,' ' doubtful,' ' broad,' ' latitudinarian,' ' liberal,' 
 ' not safe.' And so men who think little on public ques- 
 tions, by simply hissing and crying ' Vote, vote,' easily and 
 without sacrifice get a reputation, where a true man with 
 some fair and honest doubt on certain matters is despised. 
 The great snare to weak consciences in the j)resent da}- is 
 not the world so much as the Church, so called. A refor- 
 mation of any kind appears to me more and more sujjer- 
 Datural. 
 
 " But Mrs. Partington cannot sweep the ocean back." 
 
 To J. A. Campbell, Esq. : — 
 
 " I have been at Loudoun, my first parish. How I 
 mourned the contrast between my work as a parish minister 
 now and then ! God has given me other things to do, and 
 so I must accept of them. But any good results from whole- 
 sale public work can only be anticipated by faith, wliiie 
 the personal work of the minister, the house to house, face 
 to face, heart to heart work, is a j)resent, immediate, and 
 sure reward. Few things amaze me more than the tole- 
 rance of my present flock. I comfort myself bj' believing 
 tliat God, who knows all the outs and ins between us, has 
 in mercy spared me the pain of seeing them distrusting 
 me and leaving me. Had tliey done so, I would at once 
 have given up everything else, shut off all public work, 
 
i864 — 65. 185 
 
 and fallen back on tlie pastoral. It needs all my faith not 
 to become peevisb and miserable with myself. 
 
 " I had a long call from David Livingstone last Aveek. 
 A Yankee j)firson was in the drawing-room, and hearing 
 how I was engaged, insisted on being introduced. He 
 came down, shook hands with Livingstone, saying, ' Sir — 
 I have heard of you !' " 
 
 His Journal contains a deeply interesting account 
 of the interviews he had with Dr. Pritchard, while 
 this notorious criminal was lying under sentence of 
 death for poisoning his wife and mother-in-law ; but 
 the same motives of regard for the feelings of re- 
 latives which enjoined silence at the time, still exist 
 to enforce reserve on this painful subject. 
 
 To Mrs. Macleod : — 
 
 " Friday. — Please do not excite yourself when you see 
 by the papers that I have been with Pritchard to the 
 last. I thought it rather cowardly to let Oldham do this 
 work alone when we had shared the previous portion of it. 
 So I offered to go, and I am glad I did. I saw it all from 
 first to last ; was with him in his cell, and walked at his 
 back till he reached the scaffold. As to his behaviour, 
 strange to say, no patriot dying for his country, no martyr 
 dying for his faith, could have behaved with greater 
 calmness, dignity, and solemnity ! He was kind and 
 courteous (as he always was) to all. Prayed with us with 
 apparent deep earnestness. Told Oldham to tell his 
 sister that he repented of a life of transgression, was glad 
 the second confession was suppressed, &c. He said before 
 the magistrates, with a low bow and most solemn voice, ' I 
 acknowledge the justice of my sentence.' He had told 
 those about him on leaving his cell, ' I want no one to 
 support me,' and so he marched to the scaffold with a 
 deadly pale face but erect head, as if he marched to the 
 sound of music, He stood upright and steady as a bronze 
 
1 86 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 statue, with tlie cap over liis f^ice and the rope round his 
 neck. A\'hcn the drop fell, all was quiet, 
 
 " Marvellous and complex character ! 
 
 " Think of a man so firm as to say, smiling, to Oldham, 
 ' I am glad you have come with your gown and bands 1' 
 
 " I am for ever set against all public executions. They 
 brutalise the people, and have no more meaning to them 
 than bull-baiting or a gladiatorial combat. 
 
 " And then the fuss, the babble and foam of gossip, 
 the reporting fur the press, &c., over that black sea of 
 crime and death ! 
 
 " Strange to say, I felt no excitement whatever, but 
 calm and solemn. I gazed at him while praying for his 
 poor soul till the last. But J. won't indulge in sensation 
 sketches. May God forgive all my poor sinful services, 
 and accept of me and mine as lost sinners redeemed 
 throuijh Jesus Christ ! " 
 
 From his Joitrnal : — 
 
 " My church was shut for five weeks for repair, and I 
 went with my fomily to Norwood. 
 
 " I was myself depressed as the re-action fi'om previous 
 work and horrors (attending Pritchard in his cell) ! I went 
 for a week to Holland with my friend Strahan, preached 
 at Rotterdam, toured it to the Hague, Scheveling, on to 
 Amsterdam, Rotterdam, home via Calais. 
 
 " The worst ' fairs ' I have seen are the Glasgow Fair 
 and the Kermiss at Rotterdam — as bad for vulgar rioting 
 and drunkenness as the Foresters' Fete at the Crystal 
 Palace. 
 
 " I preached at 's Baptist chapel. How tremen- 
 dously Maurice and his school have told on the Baptists ! 
 The ice is thawing, and the water is freezing. How truth 
 tells at last ! If it does not revolutionize it modifies. It 
 is wonderful to think how much 'Orthodoxy' owes to 
 'the world' and to 'Heterodoxy.' What a praetieal 
 difference does it make having Christ, not any logical 
 theological system, as the object of our faith and love ! I 
 remember Norwood with cfratitude 1 " 
 
lj?b4 — 05. 187 
 
 To the Eev. W. F. Stevensoist : — 
 
 FiTJNAiiY, Aitgnst ISth. 
 
 " I am alive — alive to the glory of the hills and to the 
 earth's gravitation as I try to ascend their summits — alive 
 to the critical state of the political and ecclesiastical world ; 
 to the dangers and glories of the Irish revival ; and to 
 many other things I should like to have a chat about. 
 
 " I rejoice to hear such glad tidings about Ireland ! 
 God grant wise men to guide events ! I don't go ' to see 
 the Revival.' I fear it is the making it a S23ectacle Avhich 
 will prove its greatest danger. By-and-by I may run over 
 and inquire about results. In the meantime I am taking 
 a run through dear old places, and among dear old friends. 
 What a language those hills and seas speak to me, who 
 have been coming to them every year almost since child- 
 hood ! Yet how many hands there were that welcomed 
 me which ' touch ' no more. How many voices which 
 were earth's music once, that sound no more ! Here life 
 would be death to me, unless I believed death was life. 
 
 " I preach to-morrow, having Jowett as one of my 
 hearers " 
 
CnAPTEE XYIII. 
 
 SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 
 
 A SERIES of public demonstrations had taken 
 place against the running of Sunday trains and 
 other forms of Sabbath desecration, and the Presbytery 
 of Glasgow, to give effect to these expressions of 
 popular feeling, prej^ared a Pastoral letter, to be 
 read in all the churches within its jurisdiction. 
 As this Letter enforced the observance of the Lord's- 
 day by arguments directly opposed to the teaching 
 Dr. Macleod had given his congregation for many 
 years, it was impossible for him to read it from 
 the pulpit without expressing his dissent. He there- 
 fore felt himself bound to state to his brethren in the 
 Presbytery the grounds on which he differed from 
 their judgment. 
 
 He believed that the authority of the Jewish 
 Sabbath was an insufficient, unscriptural, and there- 
 fore perilous basis on which to rest the observance 
 of the Lord's-day, and that to impose regulations as 
 to the one institution, which applied only to the 
 other, must, with the changing conditions of society 
 in Scotland, be productive of greater evils in her 
 future than in her past history. In proportion to 
 the strict enforcement of Sabbatarianism, there 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 189 
 
 would, ill his opinion, be multiplied those practical 
 inconsistencies, dishonesties, and Pharisaic sophistries 
 which prove, in all ages, supremely detrimental to 
 morality and religion. It was, therefore, with the 
 desire of vindicating the divine sanctions of the 
 Lord's-day, as distinct from the Sabbath, that he 
 addressed the Presbytery, and, in doing so, he antici- 
 pated, with a deep sense of responsibility, the peril 
 he must incur and the pain his views were certain 
 to inflict on many of his countrymen. 
 
 This speech, like all his other speeches, was not 
 written out, but given from short, and to any other 
 eyes than his own, unintelligible notes. In substance, 
 however, it had been carefully and thoughtfully pre- 
 pared : tlie arguments and illustrations were clearly 
 arranged, but the mutilated form in which, unfor- 
 tunately, it first appeared in the newspapers created 
 an impression of its purport which was calculated 
 to disturb the public mind. It could not have been 
 expected that an address which, though rapidly 
 spoken, occupied between three and four hours in 
 delivery, would be fully or accurately reported; but 
 it must always be a matter of regret that only the 
 destructive part of the argument, which came first, 
 was communicated through the press, while the latter 
 part, enforcing the divine obligation of the Lord's- 
 day, was omitted. Had the public been better 
 informed from the first as to the true character of 
 his sentiments, there would have been less of that 
 painful misunderstanding and excitement which, once 
 raised, is so difficult to allay.* 
 
 * That this was the case was evident from the effect produced 
 when he afterwards published the substance of the speech. 
 
190 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 As it Avas, the outburst of popular feeling was 
 amazing. Ilis views were not really startling, for 
 they were common to perhaps a majority of the best 
 theologians of the Eeformed Churches.* Yet, if the 
 speaker had renounced Christianity itself, he could 
 scarcely have produced a greater sensation. He 
 became not only an object of suspicion and dislike to 
 the unthinking and fanatical, but he was mourned 
 over by many really good men as one who had 
 become an enemy to the truth. Ilis table was loaded 
 with letters remonstrating with him, abusing him, 
 denouncing, cursing him. Ministers of the Gospel 
 passed him without recognition ; one of these, more 
 zealous than the rest, hissed him in the street. During 
 the first phase of this agitation he felt acutely the 
 loneliness of his position : — 
 
 "I felt at first so utterly cut off from every Clirlstian 
 brother that, had a chimney-sweep given me his sooty 
 hand, and smiled on me witli his black face, I would have 
 welcomed his salute and blessed him. Men aj)ologised 
 for having been seen in my company. An eminent 
 minister of the Free Church refused to preach in a United 
 Presbyterian pulpit in which I was to preach the same day. 
 Orators harangued against me in City Hall and Merchants' 
 Hall. The empty drums rattled and the brazen trumpets 
 blew ' certain sounds ' in every village. ' Leave the 
 Church ! ' ' Libel him ! ' were the brotherly advices given. 
 Money was subscribed to build a Free Barony Church ; and 
 a Free Church mission house was opened beside mine 
 (' though having no reference to me ' as it was said !). 
 Caricatures were displayed in every shop window." 
 
 The condition of religion in the country which this 
 tide of bitterness revealed burdened him with sor- 
 
 * For a Catena of authorities on this subject, see "Tho Literature 
 of tho Sabbath Question," by Kobert Cox, F.S.A. 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 191 
 
 row. In one sense he never enjoyed greater peace oi 
 spirit, nor was he once tempted to waver in his resolu- 
 tion ; but he felt so keenly the prevalence of intole- 
 rance and injustice under the cloak of zeal, that all 
 who saw him during these three weeks were struck 
 by his chastened and sad aspect. There were some 
 consolations, however, mingled with the grief. The 
 Presbytery acted with marked courtesy, and con- 
 ducted the discussions in a spirit of the most friendly 
 consideration. ' They were very kind, and did not 
 utter a harsh word. I did not retract a syllable ; 
 nor was I asked to do so.' The Kirk-session of the 
 Barony cheered him by presenting an address expres- 
 sive of their unshaken confidence, and his congre- 
 gation to a man remained loyal. The hope that good 
 would result from the controversy gradually pre- 
 vailed over other feelings. 
 
 "'The smaller question,' he "writes, 'is fast merging 
 into the higher one, of whether we are to gain a larger 
 measure of ministerial liberty in interpreting those points 
 in our Confession which do not touch the essentials of the 
 Christian faith. If the Assembly passes Avithout my being 
 libelled, I shall have gained for the Established Church, 
 and at the risk of my ecclesiastical life, freedom in alliance 
 with laAV, and for this I shall thank God. But should they 
 drive me out, that day will see national evangelical liberty 
 driven out for many a day from the dear old Church." 
 
 An act of tolerance on the part of the Church in 
 his case would afford a practical solution to some of 
 the difiiculties connected with subscription ; it would 
 indicate the light in which she wished her standards 
 to be regarded. ' The Confession, when read like 
 the Bible by the Hght of the Spirit, will then not 
 
1 92 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 be an obscuration but a transparency through "uliich 
 eternal truth is seen.' Some measure of liberty in 
 this direction, among other benefits, was, he believed, 
 gained for the Church by the stand he now took. 
 
 While recording the sadder aspects of this trying 
 period, it is well to remember that the suddenness 
 of the excitement raised against him was not more 
 remarkable than the rapidity with which it dis- 
 appeared. If it is painful to recall misunderstandings 
 and alienations, it is refreshing to bear in mind how 
 soon all seemed forgotten in the confidence with 
 which his own Church honoured him, and which was 
 also accorded by the other Churches of the land. 
 
 To his sister Jaxe : — 
 
 November 19th, 1865. 
 
 " God, I solemnly belieye, has given me a great work to 
 do, and I have accepted it, keenly alive — if possible, toe 
 keenly alive — to my responsibility — to the privilege I enjoy 
 in the discharq-e of a great dutv, and to the sorrows and 
 sufferings which it involves, perhaps for life. I see the 
 truth like light, but that same light reveals the rough path 
 that is before me. I don't ask you to pass any opinion 
 on what I have said till you see my speech in full when 
 published. I don't expect you even then to agree with it 
 at once. 
 
 " Oh dear, pray that I may be kept in peace and with a 
 single eye and brave heart ! " 
 
 Letter to Eev. Geoege Oabdinee, Aunan : — 
 
 Glasgow, November l9th, 1865. 
 
 " I return you my hearty thanks for your note just 
 received, and I attach the more value to your Cliristian 
 sympathy from the fixct that it is the first of the kind 
 which I have received. 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 193 
 
 " I have not entered on this war — only beginning — 
 without much thought, earnest prayer, and a very solemn 
 sense of my responsibility, whether I speak or keep silence. 
 The more I ' mused ' on the state of religion and parties in 
 Scotland, the more has the ' fire burned ' in my very bones, 
 until I could not, dared not but utter what, so far as I can 
 judge, God has given me to utter. But I feel in my inmost 
 heart the burden Avhich I must carry for many a day, pro- 
 bably for life. I could escape this kind of burden by 
 silence or by flight, and the flesh has often cried out in 
 this and in other conflicts which in Providence I have been 
 called to fight, ' Oh, that I had the wings of a dove,' to 
 fly to some hut in the wilderness, in some lonely glen, that 
 I might be at rest. But then would come other burdens 
 which I could not carry, which would crush me — the 
 burden of a bad conscience, of a selfish, cowardly spirit, of 
 a false heart to man, and therefore to God. With truth I 
 can dare to meet bad men and devils, and, what is worse, 
 good dear brethren sincerely believing I am wrong, and 
 grieving for me — which is to me a seething in my mother's 
 milk ; but with conscious untruth in any shape or form, I 
 could not meet myself Avithout fear and shame, far less my 
 God. Yet with all this, do not think me suffering aught 
 but noble joains, such as I welcome, like the cross, as God's 
 great gift. I enjoy perfect peace. I have blessed freedom 
 and peace in opening my whole heart and ways to Christ, 
 for He understands our thoughts, will deliver us from evil,' 
 and lead us and all who seek Him into truth in the end. 
 
 " St. Paul in his Epistles and spirit is more than ever 
 clear and dear to me. As soldiers cried once, ' Oh, for one 
 day of Dundee ! ' so do I feel disposed to cry, ' Oh, for 
 one day of Paul ! " How he would puzzle and astonish 
 and possibly pain our Churches, ay, us all, for he is far in 
 advance of us all yet ! But as Max Piccolomini, when 
 wishing for an angel to show him the true and good, 
 said, why should he wish this when he had his noble 
 Thekla with him to speak what he felt ; so much more 
 surely you and I and all who seek the truth may have 
 peace, Avith the loving, patient, and wise Spirit and Guide, 
 who Avill search us and lead us mto all truth ' 
 VOL. II. O 
 
19+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " Some think I am leading a forlorn hope. Be it so. 
 Then men will enter the citadel over my dead bod)'-, and 
 perhaps bury me with funeral honours when I am enjoying 
 rest elsewhere. 
 
 " As to consequences, I have nothing to do witli them. 
 I have faith in Christ as the Head of the Church and of the 
 world. It is enough that I have to do with right and 
 wrong. To know that — to obscn-e that — to measure the 
 real angle, and let the two sides be prolonged, if so be, ad 
 infinUmn, that alone absorbs all my thoughts, demands all 
 my strength, calls forth all my prayers, demands all my 
 faith. If I am wrong, may God in his infinite mercy 
 destroy all my works, saving my soul that trusts Him, even 
 as it were by fire ! 
 
 " The battle is but beginning. It will pass over to the 
 more difl[icult and more trying one of the relation of Con- 
 fessions to the Church, its members and ministers. Who 
 will abide this sifting ? I think I have light on this too, 
 and may be helpful to many a perplexed mind when the 
 battle comes. If I am to be made the occasion of its being 
 fousrht, amen ! It is God's will. But sufl&cient for the 
 day is both its evil and God's grace. 
 
 " I am going to print my speech in full. I would have 
 spoken four hours had time been given. Much was unsaid 
 and much said of vast importance which was not reported. 
 
 " Thank God, the debate was conducted in the most 
 fair and kind spirit. J\Iy whole feeling toAvards all who 
 differ is an earnest desire that they may see the truth — • 
 Churches above all ; for what can I do for those who 
 neither love Christ nor would have a holy, blessed Lord's 
 Day. 
 
 " Pray for me ; — yes, do in faith — that I may be kept 
 calm, peaceful, simple, sincere ; and that in mercy to myself 
 and others I may be kept, if need be by sickness even, 
 from injuring Christ's cause, and be led into all truth, that 
 men may glorify Christ in me, but not glorify me, wliich 
 would be a poor idolatry. 
 
 " I remain, your brother in the best of bonds." 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 195 
 
 A BATTLE-CRY TO MY FRIEND AND FELLOW-SOLDIER, 
 PRINCIPAL TULLOCH.* 
 
 Brother ! up to the breach 
 For Christ's freedom and truth, 
 Let us act as we teach, 
 With the wisdom of age and the vigour of youth. 
 Heed not their cannon-balls, 
 Ask not who stands or falls. 
 
 Grasp the sword 
 
 Of the Lord, 
 
 And Forward ! 
 
 Brother ! strong in the faith 
 That ' the right will come right,' 
 Never tremble at death. 
 Never think of thyself 'mid the roar of the fight. 
 Hark to the battle-cry. 
 Sounding from yonder sky I 
 
 Grasp the sword 
 
 Of the Lord, 
 
 And Forward ! 
 
 Brother ! sing a loud Psalm, 
 Our hope's not forlorn ! 
 After storm comes the calm. 
 After darkness and twilight breaks forth the new morn. 
 Let the mad foe get madder. 
 Never quail ! up the ladder 1 
 
 Grasp the sword 
 
 Of the Lord, 
 
 And Forward ! 
 
 Brother ! up to the breach, 
 For Christ's freedom and truth, 
 If we live we shall teach, 
 With the strong faith of age and the bright hope of youth. 
 
 * Principal Tulloch had just delivered a stirring address on the 
 quostion of Creeds ' 
 
 O 2 
 
196 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 If we perish, then o'er ns 
 Will ring the loud chorus, 
 
 Grasp the sword 
 
 Of the Lord, 
 
 And Follow ! 
 
 To the late Dr. Egbert Lee : — 
 
 '•' This is a terrible hurricane, but I have a stout heart, 
 a good ship, light to steer by, and, thank God ! a con- 
 science kept in perfect peace. 
 
 " If ever there was a time in our history when we 
 should be wise, prudent, brotherly, and brave — it is now." 
 
 From his Jourxal : — 
 
 "Last Sunday of '65. — I will not anticipate the future, 
 it is amply sutficient to know our dear God and Father 
 is with us all, and our own brother Jesus Christ. With 
 heart, soul, and strength, I give glory for all the past, and 
 commit all to th§ blessed Trinity for the future without 
 any fear, not a shadow, but in perfect peace, and with but 
 one prayer from the depth of my heart that we all may 
 know God's will — that we all may be enabled to cling to a 
 living personal Saviour ; that is to live truly to God and 
 man, and so to live peacefully, joyously, and, of course, 
 obediently, as love is a law to itself. 
 
 " I cannot in this rough and rapid way attempt to 
 describe the origin and history of the ' Sabbath question,' 
 which is becoming in God's providence a national one. It 
 hooks on to so many topics, it is so connected with the 
 past history and present state of theological opinion in 
 Scotland, that it would demand a volume. 
 
 " This I wish to record, that never in my whole life have 
 I experienced so much real, deep sorrow, never so tasted 
 the bitter cup of the enmity, suspicion, injustice, and hate 
 of the ministers and members of the Christian Church. 
 Oh ! it was awful ; it gave me such an insight into the 
 sufferings of Jesus from man's hate and suspicion (even 
 though conscientiously entertained), such as I never before 
 conceived of, and made me understand St. Paul and the 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 
 
 197 
 
 Judaizers. But yet never in my life did I experience 
 such deep peace, such real, overwhelming joy. I record 
 this for it is true. I was kept not only from hard, bitter 
 words, as my speech and pamphlet testify, but from bitter 
 feelino's or wishes, and with most lovinsf desires for their 
 good. I am naturally hot, ardent, vehement, satirical ; 
 but all this passed away, may it keep away ! This was 
 God's doing. 
 
 " In the meantime I close this volume of my secret life 
 with praise to God, and unutterable thanksgiving. If 
 another like it is ended near the end of my life, I know 
 I shall express the same sentiments with a deeper sense 
 of their truth. 
 
 " I have around me to-night all my family, and this 
 after fifty years ! 
 
 " T. a A. — T. 0. A. — Amen and Amen^" 
 
 To his sister Jane :— 
 
 February 9th, 1866. 
 
 "Injustice, intolerance, misrepresentation, sneakiness, 
 make me half-mad ; but the more need of silence, 
 patience, prayer, and the reaching upwards into that deep 
 personal fellowship with the Son, out of which alone can 
 come to me a share of His brotherly love to all. Oh, 
 it is a heaven of peace and splendour, a pure refined 
 atmosphere, which seems too far off for me to reach and 
 breathe ! Yet there is something ennobling in the 
 attempt, and in realising a living Christ with all power by 
 His Spirit to produce it. I have fitful gleams of it, which 
 assure me it exists, and for me too as well as for others. 
 But there is a fire in my bones which won't, I fear, go out 
 except under the pressure of Mother Earth. Then thank 
 God, it will, and I shall know even as I am known." 
 
 From, his Journal : — 
 
 "I was asked by the Queen to visit her at Osborne 
 during the holidays. I went there on Monday, 2nd 
 January. 
 
198 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " The Queen, with most condescending kindness, com- 
 manded me to plant a tree in memory of my visit. 
 
 " I left after dinner, late on Thursday night, by the 
 yacht for Portsmouth. The old coxswain was a member 
 of the Gaelic Church in Campbeltown in my father's 
 time. 
 
 " The more I calmly revise these past weeks the more 
 I beheve that I have done what was right. I do not say 
 that my brethren who have opposed me have done Avrong, 
 "We may, I hope, be both, according to our light, building 
 each a portion of the wall of Jerusalem, though on opposite 
 sides. 
 
 " But the awful conviction is deeply pressing itself upon 
 me, that the gospel is not preached generally in Scotland, 
 that so called ' Evangelicalism ' is Judaism ; that the name 
 of God, Father, Son, and Spirit which is Love, is not 
 revealed, but concealed ; that it is not a gospel of glad- 
 tidings, but of lamentation and woe ; that it is not a Gospel 
 of good-will to man, but to a favoured few who 'sit under' 
 this or that man. 
 
 " Thank God I am free, never more shall I be tram- 
 melled by what partisan Christians think. One Master, 
 Christ and His Word, shall alone guide me, and speak I 
 will when duty calls, come what may. I will return 
 their adverse feeling to me, by seeking to set them free. 
 If the Church of Scotland but knew the day of her 
 visitation she would rejoice in what has happened." 
 
 To Dr. Chaeteris : — 
 
 " I write to you as a friend, and most of all as being 
 able to see farther and more independently than some of 
 our so-called leaders. 
 
 " A conference ! If we are to have conferences, 
 
 surely there couhl very easily be found subjects of discus- 
 sion of more consequence to the Church and to Glasgow 
 than this. But it has always been thus with hyper- 
 orthodox clergy, straining at gnats and SAvallowing camels. 
 
 " Conference ! and all because I don't find the whoh^ 
 moral law in the ten commandments, or because I think 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. igg 
 
 the Decalogue a covenant witli Israel, and as such not 
 binding on us, and base the Lord's-day on Christ and not 
 on Moses, and find His teaching a sufficient rule of life 
 without the Mosaic covenant ! Conference ! If it were 
 not my resolution to breed no disturbance or carry on the 
 agitation, I am ready to fight the whole army of them on 
 every point!" 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 March 20th, 1866. 
 
 " God knows how truly I feel with and for my brethren, 
 and would do everything possible to relieve them from the 
 difficulty in which they feel themselves placed. I am 
 bound even to help them to do their duty, though in their 
 doing so I may myself suffer. I wish to save my truth 
 and honour only. 
 
 " I had a weary but good time in the South. In eight 
 days I preached six sermons, and spoke at seven meetings. 
 Each one hour and a half at least. There is some life in 
 the old dog yet !" 
 
 From his JotrENAL : — 
 
 " I am almost afraid to record my impressions of what 
 has been to me the great event of this winter, and j)erhaps 
 of my life, the discussion of the ' Sabbath question.' 
 Though its very memory will pass away like one of ten 
 thousand things which have more or less, for good or 
 evil, affected our Church or even national history, yet 
 surely some importance must, without exaggeration, be 
 attached to a question I was the occasion of raising, which 
 has been discussed in every newspaper in Scotland, and 
 in, I presume to say, every pulpit, which has led to 
 articles in almost every magazine in the habit of discussing 
 such points — in the Contem^wrary, Fortnightly, Saturday, 
 Spectator, &c., &c., &c., and has induced Dr. Hessey to 
 bring out a new edition of his lectures.* The furor has 
 
 * Among the many curious letters he received during this time, 
 there is one containing the following description of a ' holy cat.' 
 
200 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 passed into the colonies, and divided opinion there as Avell 
 as here. Behold what a great matter a little spark kindleth ! 
 The great matter (as it has since been proved) was the 
 combustible state of the public mind from ultra and almost 
 nitolerable Sabbatarianism. My speech, delivered with no 
 other thought than the discharge of to me a clear and 
 necessary duty, was the little spark. The excitement it 
 has created has been unparalleled since '43. 
 
 " One would have to read the newspapers I have 
 collected to comprehend the fury of the attack. Men 
 from every pulpit and through the daily press seemed to 
 gnash thtir teeth on me. 
 
 " And all for what ? My speech is my reply. The 
 charges which were chiefly made agamst me were — 
 
 Dr. Maclootl sent for tho writer, and learned from him the remarkable 
 his^tory of himself and his cats. 
 
 Deak Sir 
 
 " I am going to toll ymi a small skitch about two cats I had in 
 my time one of them was a thief and a Sabath Breaker tho other was 
 Honest and kept the Sabath in 1845 i think I left Glasgow for Skye 
 where I belong to my father had a small farm I was nine years there 
 every one kent about the Eotntoe failiu-e there in one of these years 
 my father parted this lif in 23 May My mother on 12th Agust mj' wife 
 1st Jany same year leaving me with five young children the oldest 
 between ten and eleven years old the j'oungest a smart Boy this day 
 never saw a mother yet I sent the child to nurs at 15s a month I kept 
 with them for two years fighting between death and life at last on the 
 brink of starving I told them ac last that I would have to leave them 
 that if possible I would send som suport from Glasge I got eight shil- 
 lings for som straw I had I left them one shilly and 7 to pay the boat 
 thej' waited for the steamboat on Saterday until late but no relief on 
 Saterday night they went homo and slept till late on Sunday when 
 they got up they were without a morsel of meat a sure of rain came 
 on the old las went out and told her sister to go with her and gather 
 some small botatoes that was coming in sight where the botatoes wns 
 lilanted thny took home a small Tot full and put them on the fire I 
 liad two splendid cats mother and daughter as whit as snow except a 
 lew black spots on the tail and on the head they were both Standing 
 to the fire one of the children said if we had some kitchen now with 
 that small Pot of botatoes wo would be all right but in a short time 
 one of tho cats camo in with a fish laid that beside the fire before he 
 haltf d ho tok in a fish to each of them but when he was at tho dor 
 with the fifth fish the holy cat that stood at the fire all the time would 
 have tho last to himself I think it should be given to the publick but 
 you are tho best Judge." 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY 707 
 
 1, Tliat I gave up the moral laiu (!) when I merely 
 denied that the moral law and the ten commandments 
 were identical, and asserted that the moral law as such 
 was eternal. 2. That I did away tvith the Sabbath when 
 I denied that the Lord's-day rested as its divine ground 
 on the perpetual obligation of the fourth commandment, 
 but endeavoured to prove its superior glory and fitness and 
 blessedness on other grounds. 3. Tlcat I gave tip the 
 Decalogue as a rule of life, and therefore had no law to 
 guide life, when I denied that we required to go to Moses 
 for a rule, having Jesus Christ, and that the gospel was not 
 a mere rule, but a princijale, even life itself through faith 
 in Christ, and in the possession of the Spirit of life which 
 necessitates obedience to moral law in all its fulness as 
 recorded in Christ's Sermon on the Mount, in all the 
 Epistles, and, above all, as revealed and embodied in His 
 own holy life. 
 
 " The controversy soon passed into the greater question 
 regarding the relationship of the law of Moses and laAV as , 
 a rule of life — ' Thou shalt ' and ' shalt not,' to the gospel 
 ' Believe and live.' And I am persuaded that the Sabbath 
 controversy will more and more reveal the intense Judaism 
 prevalent in Scotland, and b}^ the Spirit's teaching lead 
 more to the seeing of Christ as the Prophet as well as the 
 Priest and the King — ' Father, glorify Thy Son that Thy 
 Son may glorify Thee ! 
 
 " Another question of immense importance, which has 
 grown and is ofrowinof out of this discussion, is ministerial 
 liberty with reference to non-essential questions, or such as 
 do not touch the great catholic doctrines or the vitals of 
 Christianity. 
 
 " This question was fairly put before the last meeting 
 of Presbytery, 
 
 " Prior to that meeting the clerical mind had been 
 intensely inflamed in certain quarters and by certain 
 parties. The question Avas beginning to tell on the union 
 between the Free Kirk and the United Presbyterian. The 
 more intelligent of the laity were more and more becoming 
 moderate in their views and sympathizing with me. I 
 had but dared to express in a coherent, bold form what 
 
2 02 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 they Lad long pnicticuUy felt. Tlicy had long felt uneasy 
 about the universal declamations from platfonn and pulpit 
 about ' Sabbath desecration,' as it is called by those who 
 themselves employ cabs or milk carts, &c., on Sabbath. 
 No voice was lifted up in defence of fair Christian liberty 
 except by so-called secular papers, i.e., non-sectarian or 
 non-church papers. What could any layman do ? The 
 clergy had it all their own way, and woe be to the man 
 who among themselves Avould dare to ' peep.' If he 
 had no intluence, he would soon be crushed by the 
 evangehcal battering rams. If he had any influence 
 to make himself heard, that influence miglit for ever be 
 destroyed. What was to be done when I spoke ? Could 
 this be permitted ? If either of the other Churches said 
 Yes, the other would say No, and so the union would end. 
 If both were silent, the ignorant and conscientious, drilled 
 by their clergy fi-om infancy in Sabbatarianism, would force 
 them to sjjeak out. If both would say No, then they 
 would check incipient liberty among the younger clergy in 
 both Churches, awe the laity, and force the Establishment 
 to join them. The union could then take place. The laity 
 would not leave the Unionists, as the Establishment Avas as 
 narrow. A stern clergy-power would reign ; the coalition 
 would soon destroy the Establishment from old grudge and 
 hate, while it would have no prestige of being a National 
 Church, and as such inclusive to the utmost stretch of her 
 constitution, and the representative of true freedom with- 
 out licentiousness. 
 
 " The politics of the one party were to represent the past 
 only, to lie at anchor as if the end of the voyage in history 
 was reached, to accept the finding of the Westminster 
 Assembly as perfect and incapable of improvement. The 
 politics of the Church, as involved in this struggle, are, 
 sail on, not back, to hold by the past, but to grow out 
 of it, and as a living organic whole to develop all that is 
 good in it into a stronger, expansive, and more fruitful 
 tree. Whether we could or can do this with a Confession 
 which is part of the constitution of the country, was and is 
 the question. 
 
 " There is a set of ecclesiastics who will not read a book. 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 203 
 
 a newspaper, or argue with any one wlio does not reflect 
 their own sentiments. They look into the glass and say, 
 ' I see every time I look there one who always agrees with 
 me.' That is their whole world, and of the rest they are 
 profoundly ignorant. 
 
 " The members of Presbytery were in a very painful and 
 difficult position. My departure from the letter of the 
 Confession was not only evident, but was so in a degree 
 and to an extent which was almost unprecedented, and 
 could not be overlooked without making the Presbytery 
 suspected of indifference or moral cowardice. On the 
 other hand, they had no personal ill-will to me, while 
 
 many had the very kindest feelings to me. called 
 
 for me twice, and the upshot of our conversation was, that 
 I declared what I would not and what I would do. I 
 would not recant or withdraw one word I had uttered, 
 simply because I did not as yet see that I had uttered 
 anything wrong ; that if I left the Church I would do so 
 with self-respect, and that I would not propose to the 
 Presbytery to do anything. They must act according to 
 their conscience ; so must I ; each realising our responsibility 
 to God, and leaving all results to him. But, short of 
 the sacrifice of my honour and sense of truth, I would act 
 with all courtesy, all Idndness, and help to carry their 
 burden of responsibility as I would wish them to carry 
 mine. Accordingly I did not vote on what was an im- 
 portant question, the committee, which if carried would 
 have brought the whole matter up to the Assembly in a 
 formal manner. 
 
 " And so in the meeting of Presbytery which afterwards 
 took place, I admitted that I had taught against the Con- 
 fession of Faith, that no doubt that was the fact, but asserted 
 that either all had done the same or did not in every 
 iota believe the Confession; therefore the question turned on 
 whether I had so differed from the Confession as to necessi- 
 tate deposition ? I thus at the risk of my ecclesiastical life 
 established the principle that all differences from the Con- 
 fession, apart from the nature of the difference, did not 
 involve deposition. Henceforth we shall keep our Con- 
 fession with power to depose on any point of difference, yet 
 
2 0+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 judicially determining what point or Avhat degree of differ- 
 ence. A great gain ! 
 
 " In so far as the question of ministerial liberty was 
 concerned, thank God, I have gained the day, and it is a 
 bright day for Scotland, which will not be followed by 
 night, but shine on unto the perfect day, which to me 
 would be the subjection of every soul to the teaching of 
 Jesus Christ, the one prophet of the Church, and to 
 Moses and His prophets as His servants, whose teaching is 
 to be interpreted by that of the ]\Iaster's. 
 
 " Their admonition was not pronounced but recorded, 
 and I said that it was interesting as being probably the 
 last which should be addressed to any minister of the 
 Church for teaching as I did, and that I would show it 
 some day to my son as an ecclesiastical fossil. They only 
 smiled and said he w^ould never discover it. All was good 
 humour, and why they did not see or feel the victory I 
 had gained I cannot tell." 
 
 To A. Strahan, Esq. : — 
 
 " I think the Assembly won't depose — but having 
 risked all for freedom and truth, I am not surprised at 
 having lost an influence in this country which will never 
 be regained by me in this world, though the next 
 generation will reap freedom from it." 
 
 From his Joitrnal : — 
 
 "June, 1866. — The Assembly is over, and not one per- 
 sonal allusion was made regarding me, far less any unkind 
 word. Most wonderful ! Most unaccountable ! It is a 
 state of things Avhich I cannot ' take in.' I cannot account 
 for it. I believe kind personal feeling had something to 
 do with it, so some truthful men told me. But it has also 
 been said that convictions were too general and strong 
 on my side, as a whole, to make any discussion safe, and 
 such as would not be, to say the least of it, very agree- 
 able as revealing the actual state of the Church. Any 
 how, I thank and praise God for His great mercy, and pray 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 205 
 
 that I may be enabled to use this hberty humbly, lovingly, 
 and sincerely for His glory. I trust that I shall be able 
 more than ever to streno^then men's convictions as to the 
 blessedness of the Lord's-day, and the spiritual good of 
 keeping it holy unto the Lord. I hope also to be able to 
 check any tendency which some possibly may entertain of 
 being able to preach lax doctrine as regards catholic truth 
 and vital Christianity. I hope that my freedom, Avhich 
 has been obtained at a great price, may ever be used to 
 bring men under law to Christ, and never directly or in- 
 directly to be perverted into a cloak for licentiousness, 
 or for conceited pup2nes to trifle with the eternal verities 
 of religion, or the proprieties of our National Church. 
 
 " Oh, my Father ! Guide me, give me a single eye, a 
 pure and loving heart. Deliver me from the temptation of 
 party. Help me to be ever consistent with the truth, and 
 ever teach me by Thine infinite power, wisdom, and love, 
 what the truth is. Let Thy Spirit j)ierce through all the 
 crust of selfishness, vanity, ambition, and the love of man's 
 approval, and enable me, come what may, to keep Thy 
 blessed will before me, and to folloAv it unto death. 
 
 " It is far more difficult to act rightly in prosperity than 
 in adversity, when victorious than when defeated. At all 
 times how difticult to be humble, to consider others, to be 
 subject one to another, to have the love that vaunteth not 
 itself ! 
 
 " Almighty God ! In infinite mercy, keep me from being 
 true to any Church or party, yet false to Thee, or to the 
 truth as it is in Jesus. 
 
 " A few years more, should these be given, and my work 
 is done. Grant, oh my Father, that it may be so done as 
 that I may be acknowledged as a faithful servant. For- 
 give, forgive, forgive ! through the blood of Jesus shed for 
 the remission of the sins of the world." 
 
 From tiie late Eev. F. D. Maurice ; — 
 
 " I have been writing a short book, * On the Command- 
 ments as Instruments for Preserving and Restoring Na- 
 tional Life and Freedom.' 
 
2o6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " As the book maintains a doctrine which is adverse to 
 that in your speech on the Sabbath, I intended to dedi- 
 cate it to you that I might express the high respect I feel 
 for you, and my thorough agreement with your object, 
 while I deviate so widely from a part of your theory. But 
 if you think the dedication Avould in any way be injurious 
 to you, or if it would be disagreeable to you, I will cancel 
 it altogether, or I will omit any passages in it that may 
 give you the least annoyance." 
 
 From, Deax Stanley to Dr. Macleod : — 
 
 Deanery, Westminster, September 11th, 1866. 
 
 "My dear Bishop, 
 
 " ( For under this aspect I always regard you 
 when I cross the Border). I much lament that I dare not 
 accept the offer to lecture at Glasgow. There are some 
 things which I should much enjoy saying to an assembly 
 of Scots, but the convenient season is not yet come. 
 
 " In coming from Berwick to Edinburgh, we had with 
 us in the railway carriage a man from Glasgow. ' Do you 
 know Dr. Norman Macleod ? ' ' Not personally, because I 
 am a Free Churchman. My sister, however, sits under 
 him, and likes him very much. But Norman Macleod has 
 had a fine heckling about the Boxology I ' " 
 
 To the Eev. D. Morrison : — 
 
 Hydropathic Establishment, Clunt Hill, Forres, 
 
 September, 18G6. 
 
 " Here I am in a state of perpetual thaw, ceaseless 
 moisture, always under a wet blanket, and constantly in 
 dano^er of kicking the bucket — ' water, water evervwhere.' 
 I have been stewed like a goose, beat on like a drum, bat- 
 tered like a pancake, rubbed like corned beef, dried like 
 Findon haddock, and wrapped up like a mummy in wet 
 sheets and blankets. My belief is that I am in a lunatic 
 asylum — too mad to be quite sure about it. My wife says 
 I never was so sane. But what if she herself is insane ? 
 That is a difficulty. 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 207 
 
 " I am composing a Hydropathic Catechism for the use 
 of schools. 
 
 " What was the primeval state of the globe ? Water. 
 
 " What was the first blessing bestowed on the earth ? 
 Rain. 
 
 " What was the grand means of purifying the earth ? 
 The Deluge. 
 
 " Mention some of the great deliverances by water ? 
 Moses in the Nile ; ditto, Red Sea, &c., &c. 
 
 " This is laying what is called a religious foundation. 
 Then comes the scientific. 
 
 " What is the best music ? Water-pipes. 
 
 " What is the best hght ? Dips. 
 
 " What is the best wife ? A mermaid. 
 
 " What is the best death ? Water in the chest, or 
 drowning. 
 
 " Who are the true Church ? Baptists. 
 
 "What is the best song in the English language? 'A 
 wet sheet and a flowing sea.' 
 
 "Who are the true aristocracy? The K.C.B.'s, &c., &c. 
 
 " This will be the most celebrated book published in the 
 rain of Queen Victoria ! I will dedicate it to the raining 
 family." 
 
 To 
 
 " I am much interested by the evolution from your 
 internal consciousness of the lamb-like character of your 
 disposition. It quite agrees with my estimate of my own 
 disposition. I have invariably testified to my wife that 
 there never was a more calm, sweet, obedient, and gentle 
 husband than myself, so long as she never contradicts me, 
 opposes me, differs from me ; but, if she does so, then 
 very different feelings may manifest themselves. If so, 
 who is to blame ? She is, of course — who else ? Not the 
 lamb, but the lion that worries it. ' Heaven help me ! ' said 
 Niagara, ' what injustice the world does me ! They call me 
 a river which is always foaming in rapids, thundering in 
 falls, seething in foam and whirlpools ! Is that my fault ? 
 Fuff ! All of you Yankees, Prussians, and French, I am 
 
208 
 
 LIFE or NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 of a most sweet, calm, and pliable disposition. But if 
 those low blackguard rocks will oppose me, interfere with 
 me, cross my i)ath with their confounded strata, hem me 
 in on every side, crush me ; what can I do but foam, 
 and sj)it, and rage ? Let me, leave me alone ! and you 
 will see how calmly I shall sleep and reflect in my 
 
 bosom the glories of 
 earth and sky ! ' Oh, 
 my darling Niagara, 
 forgive my injustice ! 
 Pity my ignorance ! 
 May thy sleep bo 
 sweet in thine Erie 
 garret and in thy 
 Lake Superior in 
 'CO!'" 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : 
 
 Balmorax, \bili Ocfoler, 1866. 
 
 " The Queen is pleased to command me to remain here 
 till Tuesday. 
 
 " I found Mr. Cardwell had been in the Barony, and, to the 
 great amusement of the Queen, he repeated my scold about 
 the singing.* After dinner, the Queen invited me to her 
 room, where I found the Princess Helena and Marchioness 
 of Ely. 
 
 " The Queen sat down to spin, at a nice Scotch wheel, 
 while I read Robert Burns to her : ' Tarn o' Shanter,' and 
 ' A man's a man for a' that,' her favourite. 
 
 " The Prince and Princess of Hesse sent for me to see 
 their children. The eldest, Victoria, whom I saw at Darm- 
 stadt, is a most sweet child ; the youngest, Elizabeth, a 
 round, fat ball of loving good-nature. I gave her a real 
 hobble, such as I give Polly. I suppose the little thing 
 never got anything like it, for she screamed and kicked 
 with a perfect furore of delight, would go from me to 
 
 * *' Scripture commands ns to * sing ' — not gnmt — but if you arc so 
 constituted physicully thiit it is impossible for you to sing, but ouly 
 grunt — tlieu it is best to be silent." 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 209 
 
 neither father nor mother or nurse, to their great merri- 
 ment, but buried her chubby face in my cheek, until I 
 gave her another right good hobble. They are such dear 
 children. 
 
 " The Prince of Wales sent a message asking me to go 
 
 and see him. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " When I was there the young Prince of Wales fell on 
 the wax-cloth, after lunch, with such a thump as left a 
 swollen blue mark on his forehead. He cried for a minute, 
 and then laughed most bravely. There was no fuss what- 
 ever made about him by mother, father, or any one , 
 yet it must have been very sore, and I would have been 
 nervous about it, if it had happened to Polly. He is a 
 dear, sweet child. All seem to be very happy. We had a 
 great deal of pleasant talk in the garden. Dear, good 
 General Grey drove me home." 
 
 To his Mother : — 
 
 Abergeldib. 
 
 " It was reported to me the other day, with perfect con- 
 fidence, that the young Prince was deformed in his hands. 
 I saw and kissed the child to-day, and a more healthy, per- 
 fect, or more delightful child I never saw. Think of these 
 lies!" 
 
 To Caijon Kingsley : — 
 
 Adelaide Place, A-pril 10th, 1867. 
 
 " When I wish to remember a friend daih'- I don't 
 answer his letter for days when it demands an imme- 
 diate reply. What a presence he becomes, and how 
 humble and ashamed one feels before him, especially when 
 we have no excuse for our silence which can bear his 
 scrutiny ! By this sinful process, ' how often hath my 
 spirit turned to thee ? ' ever since I received your note ! 
 I won't tell you how much I felt on reading your note. I 
 shall leave it to my boys that they may, when I am gone, 
 learn from it that one so great and good gave their old 
 dad so hearty and firm a grasp of his hand. God bless 
 
 VOL. II. p 
 
210 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 you for it ! With all my heart I return it, for all you 
 are and ' a' Glencairn has been to me.' I send my 'plan,' 
 as a Highland laird termed his wife's likeness, to your 
 lady, proud that it may find a humble place in her collec- 
 tion. The only inscription I am inclined to write on it 
 would be, Eccles. ii. 15, last clause." 
 
 To A. Stbahan, Esq. : — 
 
 " 's verses are neither high as the pyramids nor 
 
 deep as the sea, but a profound and unutterable mystery 
 of invisible stuff, of which even you do not comprehend 
 one word. Wait till I examine you." 
 
 Sonnet by Jliss 
 
 Blackheath, Friday Morning, \Qth May, 1867. 
 
 " Had such a congregation yesterday ! Such a church ! 
 I was very happy, my heart was in it, and the people 
 seemed thankful. They gave audible exj^ression more than 
 once, laughing outright, and semi-applause ! Newman Hall, 
 Mullens, Dale, Rogers, &c., were present, and many mission- 
 aries, all so affectionate. It was a happy night, and I 
 thank God for it ; and so Avill you, dearest." 
 
 From his Joukx^vl : — 
 
 " I spent last fortnight in the South. Visited Man- 
 chester and Leamington. A happy time. Composed in 
 train, ' Whistle the Mavie.' 
 
SABBATH CONTROVERSY. 211 
 
 " Published the ' Curling Song,' last month, in Black- 
 wood. 
 
 " Lived with Dean Stanley from the 16th till the 18th/ 
 
 The story of the ' Starling,' on which he was now 
 engaged, was suggested by a note which he received 
 the day after his speech on the Sabbath question, from 
 the former editor of the Reformer'' s Gazette in Glas- 
 gow : — 
 
 "Suffer me to give you the following story which I 
 heard in Perth upwards of forty years ago. A very rigid 
 clergyman of that city had a very decent shoemaker for an 
 elder, who had an extreme liking for birds of all kinds, 
 not a few of which he kept in cages, and they cheered 
 him in his daily work. He taught one of them in par- 
 ticular (a starling) to whistle some of our finest old Scot- 
 tish tunes. It happened on a fine Sabbath morning the 
 starling was in fine feather, and as the miiiister was pass- 
 ing by he heard the starling singing with great glee in his 
 cage outside his door, ' Ower the water to Charlie ! ' The 
 worthy minister was so shocked at this on the Sabbath 
 morning that on Monday he insisted the shoemaker would 
 either wring the bird's neck or demit the office of elder. 
 This was a cruel alternative, but the decent shoemaker 
 clung to his favourite bird, and prospered. If he had 
 murdered the innocent, would the Sabbath have been 
 sanctified to him ? 
 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 "Peter Mackenzie." 
 
 From this brief narrative the tale of the ' Starling * 
 was written — perhaps the ablest of his attempts in 
 fiction. As a literary production, it is remarkable 
 as being without any love-plot, and in making the 
 interest of the story turn completely on another range 
 of sympathies. 
 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his JottbnaIj :— 
 
 " I am writing the ' Starling' for Good Words, to illus- 
 trate the one-sidedness and consequent untruth of hard 
 loo-ical ' principle,' when in conflict with genuine moral 
 feeling, true faith versus apparent ' truth ' of reasoning." 
 
CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 IT is unfortunate that no record of his ' Table-talk ' 
 has been preserved, for every one who knew him 
 would at once fix on his conversation as the sphere 
 in which he alone displayed the riches of his imagi- 
 nation, wit, humour, and sympathy. 
 
 "Much as one enjoys," writes Principal Shairp, "many 
 things that come from his pen, full as they are of healthy 
 life and human heartedness, nothing he has Avritten is any 
 measure of the powers that were in him. The sermons he 
 preached, with the language warm from his heart, were far 
 beyond the best he published. His addresses to public 
 meetings were better than his sermons, for they allowed 
 him to flavour his earnest thoughts with that overflowing 
 humour which would have been out of place in the pulpit. 
 Sometimes when he met a congenial party at dinner, or on 
 an evening, his talk impressed them more than his best 
 speeches, so rich was it, so varied and versatile. But the 
 time to get him at his best and fuUest was when you sat 
 up with him till midnight, all alone in his study, with 
 none to hear but one famihar friend in whose sympathy 
 he could fully rely — it was then that his whole soul came 
 out in all its breadth and rich variety, touching every 
 chord of human feeling, and ranging from common earth, 
 to highest heaven. The anecdote, reflection, argument, 
 bright flashes of imagination, drollest humour, most thrill- 
 ing pathos, and solemn thoughts wandering through 
 eternity, all blended into one whole of conversation, the 
 
2 1 4 LIFE OF NORMAN MA CLEOD. 
 
 like of which you never before listened to. In a moment 
 he would pass from some comical illustration of human 
 character to the most serious reality of sacred truth, and 
 you would feel no discord. In any other hands there 
 would have been a jar, but not in his. Those mIio knew 
 him well will understand what I mean, to others it cannot 
 be described. At such times I used to think that if all 
 the pleasantest, ablest conversations I had ever heard ut 
 Oxford from one's best friends had been rolled into one, 
 it would not have made up such a profusion of soul as 
 came from Norman then. No one, however well he 
 might otherAvise know him, could estimate his full breadth 
 and depth of nature, unless they had spent with him some 
 such solitary evenings as these." 
 
 Another who knew him well wrote after his 
 death : — * 
 
 " How he taught me — as he taught many whose hap- 
 piest fortune it has been to share now and again in those 
 quiot hours in his back study — that all of the bright and 
 beautiful in life, all that could gladden the spirit and cheer 
 the heart, gained yet a brighter tint in the light reflected 
 from a Father's love : that mirth became more deep, and 
 so much more real : that each good gift became much 
 more cherished from the recognition of the Great Giver of 
 all. And here truly, it has seemed to me, did he espe- 
 cially prove himself a minister of the Gospel 
 
 Nothing w^as more strange to me at first — nothing came to 
 be accepted by me as more natural afterwards — than the 
 constant evidence which each opportunity of private inter- 
 course with this great, large-hearted, noble-minded man 
 afforded me of the deep undercurrent in his thoughts and 
 life. I never knew him in all my meetings with him 
 force a reference to relifaous thought or feelinsr. I never 
 was Avith him for a quarter of an hour that his confidential 
 talk, however conversational, however humorous even, 
 had not, as it were of itself and as of necessity, disclosed 
 the centre round which his whole life revolved." 
 
 ♦ See Good Wordi for 1872, p. 515. 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 215 
 
 The 'ceaseless mimicry,' which had provoked his 
 father when IN'orman Macleod was a boy, and the wit 
 and humour, which grew with his growth, were in- 
 valuable possessions to himself in his later years, as 
 well as sources of delight to others. Harassed by 
 work almost to despair, worried past endurance by all 
 sorts and conditions of men and women, then, as jper 
 contra., he would indulge in some humorous grimaces 
 and apostrophes, give a fresh touch to a ridiculous 
 rhyme, or draw a series of funny faces. Odd carica- 
 tures were, at such times, dropped into letters, even 
 the most serious — sometimes as a heading, more usually 
 by way of signature.''''' These tricks of humour were 
 to him refreshing as well as amusing. 
 
 • A fac-simile is here given of one of these illustrated letters, 
 ■written to the late Mr. Murray, of Melrose, in reply to one asking for 
 his autograph : — 
 
 "My dear Mr. Murray, 
 
 "Did I ever rejily to your note requesting autographs? I 
 believe not. 
 
 "The reason is that I have been studying ever since to write a 
 telling, graphic, remarkable signature. The fact is, I vary my signa- 
 ture with my correspondents. When I write my wife or mother, it ia 
 
 in this wise . When I write my children, it is so , 
 
 singularly clear and beautiful. To crowned heads I am more aristo- 
 cratic, as . To Abraham Lincoln I never give more than 
 
 Yours, &c., 
 
 " To the Pope it is 
 
 Yours, old cock, 
 
 f Barony. 
 " Ditto with Canterbury. When I write a gentleman like yourself, 
 I always subscribe myself as 
 
 Your faithful serv. 
 
 which I call a wearable, good, healthy signature. 
 
 " To my brothers and sisters I use signs, such as intellectual, 
 serene, — . Inquisitive, respectable, orthodox, doubtful. 
 
 "How came tbat note of yours to turn up in my bag with one 
 hundred other letters; when on a wet day I have returned from lunch 
 to dinner to reply to them ? Such a reply ! When you have received 
 this evidence of my remembrance of you, burn it, or I will — you." 
 
ii6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 One of his favourite studies in the way of drollery 
 was Highland characters, and Highland drovers in 
 particular. As he recollected the boyish awe with 
 which he regarded these men on their return from the 
 great ' Trysts ' of Falkirk or Dumbarton ; the absorb- 
 ing interest taken by the people in their accounts of 
 the markets, and prices of 'stots,' 'queys,' and all 
 varieties of sheep ; their utter indifference to every 
 human concern except cattle and collies ; then the 
 absurdity of the contrast between these old memories 
 and his immediate cares and troubles would fairly 
 overpower him, and result most likely in a dramatic 
 representation of a debate about the quality of ' stock.' 
 He had formed for himself an ideal drover, whom he 
 named Peter MacTavish, round whose figure a world 
 of ridiculous fancies was grouped. Only a person 
 well acquainted with Highland character could have 
 appreciated the wit and dramatic truthfulness of this 
 conception. Often, when his father was oppressed 
 with the weakness of extreme age, IS'orman would go 
 down of an evening to cheer him, and before approach- 
 ing those more solemn subjects with which their inter- 
 course always closed, he would stir his old Highland 
 associations and tickle his genial fancy by a personifi- 
 cation of this 'Peter,' mingling, in broken Gaelic, 
 reflections on men and manners with discourses on 
 "beasts," till from very pain of laughter his father 
 would beseech him to desist. ' Peter ' was more than 
 once introduced by him into strange scenes. When 
 in Italy, he concocted a long narrative, showing the 
 connection between the Pope's Bulls and the other 
 species ' Peter ' had sold at Falkirk, and in not a few 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 2 17 
 
 hotel books the sonorous rendering Pietro Tavisino 
 was entered. At Moscow, the temptation of bringing 
 the drover under the shadow of the 
 Kremlin was so great, that I be- 
 lieve he gave himself no other de- 
 signation than 'Peter MacTavish, 
 from Mull.' 
 
 This sense of the ludicrous was 
 a passion which seized him at the 
 most unlikely moments. The fol- 
 lowing verses, for example, were 
 mostly written when he was en- 
 during such violent pain that the 'Peter 'as a Monkey-god. 
 
 night was spent in his study, and he had occasion- 
 ally to bend over the back of a chair for relief: — 
 
 CAPTAIN FEAZEE'S NOSE. 
 
 Air. — " The Lass 0' Goivrie." 
 
 0, if ye'r at Dumbarton Fair, 
 Gang to the Castle when ye'r there, 
 And see a sight baith rich and rare — 
 The nose o' Cajitain Fruzer I 
 
 Unless ye'r blin' or unco glee'd, 
 A mile awa' ye'r sure to seo't, 
 And neerer han' a man gauns wi't 
 
 That owns the nose o' Frazer, 
 
 It's great in length, it's great in girth, 
 It's great in grief, it's great in mirth. 
 The' grown wi' years, 'twas great at birth- 
 It's greater far than Frazer ! 
 
 I've heard volcanoes loudly roaring, 
 And Niagara's waters pouring; 
 But oh, gin yo had heard the snorin' 
 
 Frae the nose o' Captain Frazer 1 
 
 Tae waukin' sleepin' con,':,'regations, 
 Or rouse to battle sleepin' nations, 
 Gae wa' wi' preachings and orations, 
 And try the nose 0' Frazer 1 
 
2 1 8 LIFE OF NORMAN MA CLEOD. 
 
 Gif French invaders try to Ian' 
 Upon our glorious Britisli stran', 
 Fear nocht if .^liips are no' at hun', 
 
 But trust the nose o' Frazer. 
 
 Just crak' that cannon ower the shore, 
 Weel rammed wi' snuff, then let it roar 
 Ae Hielan' sneeze ! then never more 
 
 They'll daur the noee o' Frazer I 
 
 If that great Nose is ever deid. 
 
 To bury it ye dinna need, 
 
 Nae coirin made o' wood or lead 
 
 Could haud the nose o' Frazer. 
 
 But let it stan' itsel' alane 
 Erect, like some big Druid stane, 
 That a' the warl' may see its bane, 
 " In memory o' Frazer ! " * 
 Diimharton, September 1, 1771. 
 
 * He afterwards introduced this song into a story, which was not 
 completed, and has never been published, and added the following 
 note : — 
 
 " No one can read this song without being painfully struck with the 
 tone of exaggeration about it. Anxious, however, to investigate as 
 far as possible into this matter, we wrote to Mr. MucGilvray, the 
 keeper of the Antiquarian Museum at Dumbarton, who, sympathising 
 with us, obligedly sent us a long communication, from which we quote 
 with his permission. He says : ' I am confirmed in your views regard- 
 ing the exagLreratcd account given in the poem of " Captain Frazer's 
 Nose," by a long correspondence on the subject, as a scientific question, 
 with two distinguished savans. They both decidedly think that a 
 human nose, by the cnnstant application of snuff to its nostrils, and of 
 Athole brose, which they properly assume to possess a considerable 
 amount of alcoholic ingredients, might, acting upon it from within 
 through the nervous system, if continued for a vast and incalculable 
 series of ages, be developed at last into a proboscis so large as ulti- 
 mately wholly to absorb the person of its possessor. Arguing from 
 this fact, they also believe that, by a recurrent law of Nature, the 
 original organization attached to a man might return to the form of a 
 huge aimelide, or possibly earthworm, which might, like the dragon of 
 romance, prove a terror to the country, and might thus originate a 
 new age of romantic poetry, or even a religicm ! But thej- treat as 
 purely mythical the existence of any nose in this age such as is alleged 
 to have belonged to Captain Frazer or to any other of our race at the 
 present stage of its progress. If this is asserted, they demand the 
 bone of Frazer's noso for scientific examination.' If more full and 
 complete information on this great subject is sought by our more 
 scientific readers, we must refer them to the learned Professor H.'s 
 paper, ' On the Development of the Nasal Organ in Man, with its 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 aig 
 
 Ko one wlio recollects the importance lie attached 
 to district visiting will misunderstand the verses which 
 follow, as if they were meant seriously to discourage 
 such efforts : — 
 
 PATRICK MACPHUDD. 
 
 HINTS ON DISTRICT VISITING BY GOOD LADIES. 
 
 Miss Jemima MacDowal, tlie parson's sweet jewel, 
 Is fair and red as a rose coming out of its bud, 
 
 But ocli, " by the powers," what attention she showers, 
 On that thundering blackguard, big Patrick MacPhudd. 
 
 She says she is sartain and shure to convart him, 
 
 And to lift the ould Catholic out of the mud, 
 And so she is walking, and every day talking. 
 
 To Mistress, or Misses, or Mister MacPhudd. 
 
 natural selection of snuff among some savage nations,' read before the 
 last meeting of the British Association, and which was received with 
 prodigious sneezes. ' With my profound reverence for Science,' Mr. 
 MacGrilvray goes on to say, ' I need hardly say that I heartily concur 
 in these conclusions of the learned gentleman, and leave the whole 
 question in perfect peace to be finally decided by the races which shall 
 appear as our descendants in future ages. But as all true science, as 
 the great Goethe once remaxked (so, at least, I read in a newspaper). 
 
2 20 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 She's so svreet a bit cratiir, and humble by natur 
 
 As to carry down soup, or a cast-away Dud ; 
 A cap for the lady, a irock for the baby, 
 
 Or a top-coat for ragged ould Patrick MacPhudd. 
 
 •• May the saint blessings send you, and always defend you 
 From pestilence, famine, from thunder and flood ; 
 
 May archangels guard you, and Mary reward you," 
 Says the oily ould father, Patrick MacPhudd. 
 
 Ould Patrick so grateful, sends out for the nadeful. 
 
 And drinks till he lies like a pig in the mud ; 
 There his wife too is lying, while the children are crying, 
 
 And both are well thrashed by sweet Patrick MacPhudd. 
 
 Every day he is muddled — every night he gets fuddled. 
 On pay-days he's fighting and covered with blood; 
 
 He's a Catholic Sunday, and a Protestant Monday — 
 " Och, I'll not tell a lie," says honest MacPhudd. 
 
 «' You thundering ould blackguard," says Father MacTaggert ; 
 
 The Priest trembled over with rage where he stood ; 
 " Is it true ye're convarted, and by swaddlers pervarted ? 
 
 Look me straight in the face, and deny it, MacPhudd." 
 
 " Convarted ! Parvarted ! " howled Pat broken-hearted, 
 " I wish I could drink up her Protestant blood ; 
 
 I vow by Saint Peter, I'd roast her and eat her. 
 And crunch all her bones," says sweet darling MacPhudd. 
 
 And now all good ladies, who visit bad Paddies, 
 Be advised just to let them keep quiet in the mud, 
 
 And spend all your labours on dacent Scotch neighbours, 
 And not on ould blackguards like Patrick MacPhudd. 
 
 December, 1856. 
 
 ^The Waggin' o' onr Dog's Tail,' in which were 
 embodied the supposed reflections of his dog Skye 
 upon men and manners, was frequently sung by him 
 
 first departs out of sight like an eagle, then returns as a servant to 
 our kitchen to make itself useful — the true thus ending always in the 
 practical — so do these grand speculations lead to this agreeable con- 
 clusion, that, for the present generation, at least, savages and civilised, 
 clergy and laity, may snufiF and partake even of Athole brose without 
 any fear of their noses becoming a bmden to themselves or a terror to 
 the country.' 
 
 " We are glad to serve the cause of Science by communicating tliis 
 splendid result of its profound researches to the world ! " 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 221 
 
 in later years. The earnest, meditative countenance, 
 and the quaint accentuation with which he rendered 
 it, accompanied by a suggestive twirl of his thumb, 
 to indicate the approving 'wag' of the tail, lent 
 indescribable drollery to the words. 
 
 " THE WAGGIN' 0' QUE DOG'S TAIL." 
 
 Air, — " The larrin' 0' the door," 
 
 We hae a dog that wags his tail 
 
 (He's a bit o' a wag himsel' O !) 
 Every day he gangs down the town, 
 At nicht his news to tell O ! 
 
 The waggin' 0' our dog's tail, bow-wow I 
 The waggin' o' our dog's tail ! 
 
 He saw the Provost o' the town, 
 
 Parading down the street ! 
 Quo' he, " Ye're no like my lord. 
 
 For ye canna see your feet ! " 
 
 The waggin', &c. 
 
 He saw a man grown unco' poor, 
 
 And looking sad and sick O ! 
 Quo' he, " Cheer up, for ilka dog 
 
 Has aye a bane to pick O ! " 
 
 The waggin', &o. 
 
 He saw a man wi' mony a smile, 
 
 Wi'out a grain o' sowl ! 
 Quo' he, " I've noticed mony a dog. 
 
 Could bite and never growl ! " 
 
 The waggin', &c. 
 
 He saw a man look gruff and cross, 
 
 Wi'out a grain o' spite ! 
 Quo' he, " He's like a hantle * dogs 
 
 Whose bark is waur than their bite I •* 
 The waggin', &c. 
 
 He saw an M.P. unco' proud. 
 
 Because o' power and pay ! 
 Quo' he, " Yer tail is cockit heigh. 
 
 But ilka dog has his day ! " 
 
 The waggin', &o. 
 
 * ' Many.' 
 
222 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 He saw some ministers fighting hard, 
 
 And a' frae a bit o' pride ! 
 " It's a pity," quo' he, " when dogs fa' out 
 Aboot their ain fireside ! " 
 
 The waggin', &c. 
 
 He saw a man gaxin staggerin' hame, 
 Btts face baith black and blue ! 
 
 Quo' he, "I'm ashamed o' the stupid brute. 
 For never a dog gets fou' ! " 
 
 The waggin', &c. 
 
 He saw a man wi' a hairy face, 
 Wi' beard and big moustache I 
 
 Quo' he, " We baith are towsy dogs, 
 But ye hae claes and cash ! " 
 
 The waggin', &c. 
 
 He saw a crowd in a bonny park. 
 Where dogs were not allowed ! 
 
 Quo' he, " The rats in Kirk and State, 
 If we were there might rue't ! " 
 
 The waggin,' &c. 
 
 He saw a man that fleeched * a lord, 
 And liatterin' lees did tell ! 
 
 Quo' he, "A dog's owre proud for that. 
 He'll only claw himsel' ! " 
 
 The waggin', &c. 
 
 He saw a doctor drivin' about. 
 
 An' ringing every bell ! 
 Quo' he, " I've been as sick's a dog, 
 
 But I aye could cure mysel' ! " 
 
 The waggin', &o. 
 
 He heard a lad and leddie braw 
 
 Singin' a grand duet ! 
 Quo' he, " I've heard a cat and dog 
 
 Could yowl as weel as that ! " 
 
 The waggin', &0. 
 
 He saw a laddie swaggerin' big 
 Frae tap to tae sae trim ! 
 
 Quo' he, "It's no' for a dog to laugh 
 That ance was a pup like him ! " 
 
 The waggin', &0. 
 
 Our doggie ho cam' hame at e'en. 
 And scarted baith his lugs O ! 
 
 Quo' he, " If folk had only tails. 
 
 They'd be maist as gude as dogs ! " 
 The waggin', &o. 
 
 * 'Flattered.' 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 223 
 
 Another of his favourite songs was one which he 
 composed while on a visit to a friend in Ayrshire, 
 who was an enthusiastic curler. Norman, who never 
 even attempted to curl, heartily enjoyed the exciting 
 scene on the ice, and the keenness displayed by 
 'tenant and laird' as they strove together for the 
 honours of the ' roaring game ' : — 
 
 CUELING SONG.* 
 
 Air. — " Gome under my plaidie." 
 
 A' nicM it was freeziu', a' nicht I was sueezin', 
 
 " Tak' care," quo' the wife, " Gudemau, o' yer cough." 
 A fig for the sneozin', hurrah for the freezin'. 
 
 For the day we're to play the Bonspiel on the loch ! 
 Then get up, my braw leddy, the breakfast mak' readj', 
 
 For the sun on the snaw drift's beginniu' to blink, 
 Gie me bannocks or brochan, I'm all" to the lochan, 
 To mak' the stanes flee to the ' T ' o' the rink. 
 
 Then hurrah for the curling frae Girvan to Stirling ! 
 
 Hurrah for the lads o' the besom and stane ! 
 Eeady noo ! Soop it up ! Clap a guard ! Steady noo ! 
 Oh curling abune a' the games, stands alane. 
 
 The ice it is splendid, it canna be mended, 
 
 Like a glass ye can glowr in't an' shave aff yer beard ; 
 And see how they gaither, cumin' owre the brown heather, 
 
 The master and servants, the tenant and laird. 
 There's braw J. 0. Fairlie, he's there late and early, 
 
 Better curlers than he or Hugh Conn canna be ; 
 Wi' the lads frae Kilwinnin', they'll send the stanes spinnin,' 
 
 Wi' a whurr and a cutr, till they sit roun' the ' T.' 
 
 Then hurrah for the curling, &c. 
 
 It's an unco' like story, that baith Whig and Tory, 
 
 Maun aye collyshangy,t like dogs owre a bane, 
 An' that a' denominations are wantin' in patience, 
 
 For nae Kirk will thole '^ to let ithers alane. 
 But in fine fx'osty weather, let a' meet thegither, 
 
 Wi' brooms in their hauns, an' a stane near the ' T * ; 
 Then Ha ! Ha ! by my certies, ye'll see hoo a' parties 
 
 Like brithers will love, and like brithers agree ! 
 
 Then hurrah for the curlin' , &c. 
 
 * This song was afterwards published m Blachivood's Magazine. 
 t ' Quarrel.' | ' Endure.' 
 
22+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 His way of training his children was a practical 
 illustration of the teaching given to parents in his 
 ' Home School.' The key-note of it all was loving 
 companionship. He was bo much in sympathy with 
 them that he seemed to grow with their growth from 
 their earliest years. When he was worn out with study 
 his resort was the nursery, where he would invent all 
 sorts of games, tui'n chairs upside down to represent 
 ships, rig up newspapers as mimic sails, and give 
 the baby an imaginary voyage round the room. Or 
 he would in the evenings lie on the sofa or floor, with 
 all the little ones nestled about him, listening to 
 music, or telling them the wonderful adventures of 
 ' Little Mrs. Brown ' and ' Abel Feragus.' These 
 stories went on like the Arabian Nights, with new 
 incidents invented for each fresh occasion. They 
 were all told di-amatically, and often the fun was 
 so great that he would himself laugh as heartily 
 as the children. But he had a higher object in 
 view than mere amusement when composing his 
 nursery tales; they were never without an under- 
 current of moral teaching, and never failed to 
 impress lessons of kindness, generosity, bravery, and 
 truth. 
 
 He never left home for any length of time without 
 bringing some little memento to each child, and to 
 each servant as well. 
 
 Carrying out this principle of companionship with 
 his children, he would watch for their return when 
 they had been at any holiday entertainment, and 
 have them ' tell from the begiiming ' all they had 
 seen and heard. "When in the Highlands dui-iiig 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS, ir% 
 
 Slimmer, he entered like one of themselves into all 
 their amusements. They rememher with special 
 delight one moonlight night, when, sciatica not- 
 withstanding, he insisted on playing ' Hide and Seek ' 
 with them, and became so excited with the game, 
 that although both shoes had fallen off, he continued 
 rushing over the grass and thi'ough the bushes till 
 they were all exhausted, his wife in vain entreating 
 him to take care. His desire was, in short, to 
 possess their frank confidence, and to make their 
 memory of home thoroughly happy, and in both these 
 respects his efforts were rewarded with abundant 
 success. It was quite characteristic of him that he 
 made it a principle always to keep his word with his 
 children, even in trifles, and to avoid the iiTitation of 
 fault-finding in little things. Only on two points was 
 he uncompromising even to sternness. The slightest 
 appearance of selfishness or of want of truth was at 
 once severely dealt with ; but when the rebuke was 
 given, there was an end of it, and he took pains to 
 make the culprit feel that confidence was completely 
 restored, for he believed that the preservation of self- 
 respect was as important a point as any in the educa- 
 tion of a child. 
 
 These summers, spent with his family in the High- 
 lands, were full of a glory which every year seemed 
 only to deepen. Whether at his favourite Cuilchenna, 
 on the Linnhe Loch with its majestic views of Glencoe 
 or Glengoar, or at Java Lodge in Mull, commanding 
 ' one of the finest panoramas in Europe,' or at Aird's 
 Bay, fronting the Buachaill Etive and Ben Cruachan, 
 or at Geddes, with its hallowed associations, he entered 
 
 VOL. II. Q 
 
226 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 into the joy of nature with a rapture even greater than 
 in youth. 
 
 He thus describes the scenery round Cuilchenna : — 
 
 " Suppose ourselves seated on a green headland, rising 
 a few hundred feet above the sea-level. In itself this 
 elevation is remarkable for nothing more than the greenest 
 of grass ; consequently, in the estimation of the shej)herd, 
 it is one of the ' best places for wintering sheep ; ' and it is 
 the more fitted for such a purpose owing to its being broken 
 up by innumerable hollows and dykes of trap, which 
 afford shelter to the sheep from every Avind. Moreover 
 the snow seldom lies here, as it is speedily thawed by the 
 breath of the temperate sea. It has its own secluded 
 spots of Highland beauty, too, though these are seldom, 
 if ever, visited by any one save the solitary herd-boy. In 
 these nooks, nature, as if rejoicing in the undisturbed 
 contemplation of her own grace and loveliness, lavishly 
 grows her wild flowers and spreads out her drooping ferns. 
 Nay, she seems unconsciously to adorn herself with tufts 
 of primroses, bluebells, and crimson heather, and slyly 
 retires into little recesses, to enter which one has to put 
 aside the branches of mountain ash clothed with bunches 
 of coral fruit, as well as the weeping birch and hazel, in 
 order to get a glimpse of the rivulet which %vliislies 
 between banks glorious with green mosses, Hchens, ferns, 
 honeysuckle, and wild roses. In the spring such recesses 
 are a very home of love for piping birds. At the base of 
 our unknown, untrodden promontory, are clefts and caves, 
 worn and cut into the strangest shapes by the everlast- 
 ing beat of the ocean tides. In each round rocky bowl, 
 filled with pure sea-Avater, is a forest of fairy-like trees 
 of all colours, strangely mingled — brown, green, and 
 white. Molluscs, and fish almost microscoj)ic, together 
 with a solitary crab here and there, move about in this 
 their little Avorld of beauty, in which, to the observer, 
 there seems indeed to be nothing but purity and joy. 
 
 " But the grand and commanding object at the head of 
 Loch Leven is Glencoe. Seen from our promontory, its 
 precipices rise hke a huge wall, dark as though built of 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 227 
 
 lava. Tremendous buttresses, from base to summit, dis- 
 engage themselves from their surface, and separated from 
 each other by depths such as might have been cut and 
 cloven by Thor's great hammer, wielded in stormy passion. 
 The mountain is scored across, too, by deep lines and 
 platforms of trap, as though they marked the successive 
 floods of molten rock poured out by volcanic forces. 
 Nothing can be more utterly sombre, sad, and desolate 
 than this Glencoe. We have watched it in its every mood ; 
 sometimes when it seemed to sleep like a wearied giant, 
 wrapped in the sun-mist ; sometimes when it began to 
 arrest the western clouds, until, as if overcome by their 
 stifling power, they covered it with impenetrable masses 
 black as night ; or, again, when slowly and solemnly it 
 unveiled itself after the storm, and the sun crept up to it, 
 after visiting the green fields and trees below, and pouring 
 itself on white cottages and the sails of fishing-boats, until 
 at last it scattered the clouds from the dark precipices 
 and sent the mists flying — not fiercely but kindly, not 
 hastily but slowly — in white smoke up the glens, tinging 
 with auroral light the dark ridge as they streamed over 
 it, while the infinite sky appeared without a cloud over 
 all, and as if sujiported by the mighty pillars of the glen. 
 
 " Turning to the east the scene is still characteristic of 
 our Highlands. To right and left, to north and south, is 
 the sea-river of which we have spoken. Southward, it 
 flows past the green Lismore, on past Oban, Mull, until it 
 is lost betAveen misty headlands in the far Atlantic, whose 
 waves boom on the western steeps of Jura. 
 
 " The scenery to the west, which hems in this stretch 
 of inland sea, is utterly desolate. 
 
 " . . . . Amidst this scenery we spent a considerable 
 portion of last summer, and gazed on it from day to day, 
 and from morn to even, with delight and reverence. We 
 have fished along its sea-coast almost every evening. 
 
 " What unsurpassed glories have we thus witnessed ! 
 It verily seemed to us then as though the setting sun 
 dropped down nearer earth to concentrate all his powers 
 on that one landscape ; to display untold beauty and 
 adorn it with glory from the head of the western glen 
 
 Q 2 
 
2x8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 above the loch down to the sea ; and compelling even 
 dark Glencoe, as well as the surrounding hills, to do it 
 honour and bow before it with their golden cro^v^ls and 
 purple robes. First of all, the sun began to collect round 
 himself clouds spread out into seas, grouped into islets, 
 with colours such as no pen or pencil has ever conveyed 
 the faintest impression of. Then beams of soft silver 
 sheen shot through every crossing valley and down 
 through every cleft and cranny in the serrated ridges, 
 ponetrating the nether dimness, illuminating the curling 
 smoke of the valleys, and transfiguring the dark pines 
 and precipices, and lighting up hidden corners. It 
 touched the green pastures of the shores of Loch Leven 
 as with a magic rod ; it kindled the mountain ridges to 
 the east, so that these, after all the lower valleys were 
 dark, retained the light of day. Having glorified Glencoe 
 from base to summit, it concentrated its beams, ere 
 parting, on the loftiest peaks, until they shone in a 
 subdued ruby light, and then they were tipped with such 
 bright burnished gold as is never seen anywhere except on 
 the icy aiguilles of the Alps. Gradually the halo seemed 
 to pass from earth to heaven, and lingered for a space 
 among the clouds with that splendour and wonder of 
 glory so overpowering yet so variable — a revelation of the 
 Almighty Artist, wLich, once seen, remains a precious gift 
 stored in the memory, never to fade away ! 
 
 " On these evenings the marvel nearest to the eye was 
 the appearance of the sea ! It was wholly indescribable. 
 But merely to mention it will recall similar spectacles to 
 others. The waves undulated in gentle swell with a 
 heavy, dull molten hue. Save for the movements of 
 flocks of birds, which swam and dived wherever the 
 shoals of fish disturbed its glassy surface, it seemed cold 
 and dead. But as the setting sun began to kindle its 
 waves with subdued lights, aided by glowing cloud and 
 mountain of every imaginable hue, there spread over the 
 wide expanse of still water such a combination of colours 
 — ruby, amethyst, purple, blue, green, and grey — gleam- 
 ing, sparkling, and interchanging like the Aurora, until 
 every gentle undulation was more gorgeous than the 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 429 
 
 robes of Eastern kings, when unrolled from the looms of 
 Benares! "* 
 
 These scenes afforded him more than 'tranquil 
 restoration ; ' they were a continual ' passion and 
 delight.' And the joy they conveyed to him he tried 
 to share with his children, in this, as in so many other 
 things, evincing his eagerness to recreate for them 
 the same Highland associations as had made his own 
 early days so happy, l^one of his boys showed more 
 excitement than he when they were out fishing on the 
 loch, and when there happened to be a good ' take.' 
 On the croquet green, competing with his children, he 
 was the keenest of the party. When a chance piper 
 arrived, and the floor was cleared for a reel, he heartily 
 enjoyed and cheerily applauded the merriment of the 
 dancers. What he felt at such times he has thus 
 expressed : — 
 
 •* ' Dance, my cliildren ! lads and lasses 1 
 Cut and shuffle, toes and heels I 
 Piper, roar from every chanter 
 Hui-ricanes of Highland reels 1 
 
 ** ' Make the old barn shake with laughter, 
 Beat its flooring like a drum ; 
 Batter it with TuUochgorum, 
 Till the storm without is dumb 1 
 
 •' ' Sweep in circles like a whirlwind, 
 Flit across like meteors glancing ; 
 Crack your fingers, shout in gladness, 
 Think of nothing but of dancing 1 ' 
 
 ** Thus a grey-haired father speaketh, 
 As he claps his hand and cheers ; 
 Yet his heart is quietly dreaming, 
 And his eyes are dimmed with tears. 
 
 * From an Essay on Highland Scenery which he wrote for a volume, 
 published at her Majesty's desire, illustrative of "Mountain, Loch, 
 and Glen." 
 
sjo LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 •' Well he knows this •world of sorrow, 
 Well he knows this world of sin, 
 Well he knows the race before them. 
 What's to lose, and what's to win ! 
 
 *' But he hears a far off music, 
 
 Guiding all the stately spheres, 
 In his father-heart it echoes, 
 
 So he claps his hands and cheers.** 
 
 This participation in the amusements of liis children 
 passed naturally, as they grew older, into tlie higher 
 companionship of sharing all their pursuits and studies. 
 His method of conveying to them religious instruction 
 was as effective as it was simple. He trained them to 
 speak to him on religious subjects, and tell him their 
 difficulties, and so educated them in the truest sense. 
 Especially in later years, when his Sunday evenings 
 were not so fully occupied with public duty, he spent 
 hours that were as happy to them as to himself, in 
 hearing what they had to say, while some part of 
 Scripture was read in common. However trivial the 
 idea or the difficulty of the child might seem to 
 others, he always dealt carefully with it, and tried by 
 means of it to impress some principle which was worth 
 remembering. 'When I asked him about anything 
 I did not understand,' writes one of his daughters, 
 ' my dear father would say, * That's right. On your 
 way tln-ough life you'll come across many a stum- 
 bling-block that you will think quite impassable, but 
 always come to your father, for he's an old traveller 
 who can show you a path through many a difficulty.' 
 I treasure what he said to me when I spoke to him 
 about some fault of natural temperament. ^ Don't 
 bo discouraged. It involves in many ways a benefit. 
 The cure is to think more about God. Look at 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 231 
 
 yourself as much as you can as you think He 
 would look at you, and look on others in the same 
 way.' Oh that I were like him ! Such trust, such 
 love, such utter forgetfulness of self, such sympathy 
 and charity and energy ! Surely these things are 
 born with people, and not acquirements. Yet he once 
 said to me, ' You have no right to blame your natural 
 disposition. By so doing you blame God who gave it 
 to you. ]^o quality is bad unless perverted.' 
 
 There was a characteristic of his later life which 
 was the more remarkable that his youth gave no 
 promise of it. He was naturally impatient of details, 
 careless about hours and arrangements, hurried and 
 impulsive, but experience taught him the importance 
 of punctuality and forethought, and in later years his 
 attention to minutise, and the careful and businesslike 
 manner in which he fulfilled his public engage- 
 ments, surprised those who had known him with 
 other habits. 
 
 His later manner of preaching differed from his 
 earlier, and as a rule, admitting many exceptions, 
 partook more of the nature of teaching — sometimes 
 of homely talk — than of set discourse. Simplicity 
 was its constant characteristic, but there was more ; 
 for ever and anon came bursts of indignant denun- 
 ciation against what was mean or selfish, or brief bufc 
 thrilling touches of imagination or pathos that broke 
 the even flow of instruction. ' His style reminds 
 me,' said an auditor, who was himself a celebrated 
 preacher, ' of the smooth action of a large engine, 
 moving with the ease of great power held in re- 
 straint.' ' It was not,' says another hearer, ' so much 
 
2)1 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 what is called earnest preaching, as the speaking of 
 a powerful and earnest man who wished to do you 
 good, and threw everything else aside for that end.' 
 
 " I fiin persuaded we will all acknowledge that we never 
 listened to any man whose word came so home to the 
 heart. For myself, at least, I can say that no preacher 
 ever had such power over me ; nor was the secret of his 
 power hard to discover. . . . That which told more 
 than all upon me was the total absence of all thought of 
 self which characterised his preaching. While listening 
 to him, the thought never crossed my mind that he had 
 been maJcing a sermon. Whether composed in his study, 
 or left, as was so often the case, to such language as the 
 impulse of the moment might suggest, his sermons always 
 appeared to me of a purely extemporaneous character ; 
 because whether wholly or partially written, or not written 
 at all, they were the spontaneous outflowing of his heart 
 at the moment, with no more art or effort than what is 
 seen in the natural rush of one of his own loved Hisrhland 
 rivers ; clear, and deep, and strong as they, but with as 
 little consciousniiss of any private aim, or any desire to 
 gratify a selfish feeling or to win human praise." * 
 
 " Other preachers we have heard," wrote Dean Stanley 
 in the Times, " both in England and France, more learned, 
 more eloquent, more jjenetrating to particular audiences, 
 but no preacher has arisen Avithin our experience, with an 
 equal power of riveting the general attention of the varied 
 congregations of modern times .... none who so com- 
 bined the self-control of the prepared discourse with the 
 directness of extemporaneous effort ; none with whom the 
 sermon appproached so nearly to its original and proper 
 idea — of a conversation — a serious conversation, in which 
 the fleeting thought, the unconscious objection of the 
 listener, seemed to be readily caught up by a passing 
 parenthesis — a qualifying word of the speaker ; so that, 
 
 • From a sermon entitled " The Hearer's Responsibility," preached 
 in the Barony Churcli on the 12th January, 1873, by the Hev. William 
 Robertsfm, D.D., of New Greyfriars, Edinburgh, on the occasion of 
 hib iulroducing the liev. Dr. Lang as Buccessor to Dr. Macleod. 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 233 
 
 in short, the speaker seemed to throw himself with the 
 whole force of his soul on the minds of his hearers, led 
 captive against their will by something more than elo- 
 quence." 
 
 Although at one period he occasionally wrote his 
 sermon seven times over before he preached it, there 
 were years during which he seldom wrote any dis- 
 course fully out.* but preached from notes in which 
 the sequence of ideas was clearly marked. These 
 notes, though often jotted on Saturday afternoon, were 
 the result of constant cogitation during the week. 
 
 As might have been expected from his tempera- 
 ment, he was deeply interested in the movements of 
 modern thought. As he had long forecast the coming 
 storm in the theological atmosphere, he was not taken 
 aback by its approach, and, in order that his hearers 
 should be prepared for it, he was in the habit of 
 enforcing guiding principles, rather than of discussing 
 special questions. The ground which he generally 
 took was moral more than intellectual. Without 
 ignoring the issues raised by modern inquiry, he 
 sought, as the ultimate basis of religious conviction, 
 to appeal to the moral instincts, and to reach that 
 spirit in man, which he believed is bound to recognize 
 the spiritual glory of God on the face of Christ, as 
 much as intellect is bound to confess the conclusions 
 
 • Ee was once preacliing in a district in AyrsHre, where the read- 
 ing of a sermon is regarded as the greatest fault of ■which a minister 
 can be guilty. When the congregation disi^ersed, an old woman 
 overflowing with enthusiasm, addressed her neighbour, " Did ye ever 
 hear onything sae gran'? Was na that a sermon "r" But all her 
 expressions of admiration being met by stolid silence, she shouted, 
 " Speak, woman ! Was na that a sermon ? " " Ou aye," replied her 
 friend sulkily, "but be read it." " Eead it!" said the other with, 
 indignant emphasis, " I wadna hae cared if he had whusiled it ! " 
 
23+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 of reason. lie clung with such firm faith to Christ, 
 and loved God with such fulness of childlike affec- 
 tion ; holy Scripture was to him so verily the Word 
 of God ; and its salient truths were so self-evident to 
 his heart and conscience, that no verbal criticism, no 
 logic of the lower understanding, could for a moment 
 shake his loyalty to the eternal fitness of the revelation 
 of love and holiness in Christ which was self-evident 
 to his spirit. But while he was thus firmly 
 anchored to essential catholic beliefs, he * could SAving 
 with a free cable,' as he used to say, in reference to 
 many minor questions. For that hard negative criti- 
 cism, whose only instrument is keen or coarse intel- 
 lect, and which is prepared with callous determination. 
 to deny whatever cannot be logically demonstrated, 
 he had no liking. He was too sympathetic not to be 
 deeply afi"ected by the religious doubts and difficulties 
 which were pressing as a heavy burden on many, 
 who in utter perplexity were crying for light. But 
 some of the theories of modern critics, some of the 
 most portentous attacks on the faith, provoked his 
 sense of humour more than his alarm. 'The devil 
 is far too clever,' he would say, ' not to be intensely 
 amused at all this. What frightful fools those men 
 must seem to him ! Can you not imagine how 
 Mcphisto, when he is alone, must chuckle at the 
 absurdities of which clever men can be guilty ? ' 
 
 His manner of treating doubters was powerful and 
 sympathetic. After one or two straight cuts of com- 
 mon sense or humour had sundered the meshes of 
 sophistical argumentation, he would carry his auditors 
 away from doubtful disputations, into the wide pure 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 235 
 
 heaven of his own convictions and aspirations, appeal 
 to what was most human in them, enlist every better 
 sympathy on his side, and flash light into the 
 mysterious depths of conscience. Many a man heset 
 by difficulty on ' questions of the day,' came away 
 from his teaching, not perhaps feeling every doubt 
 removed, but under the sense that truths had been 
 spoken which ' could perish never,' and that convic- 
 tions had been awakened which no chatter of the 
 schools could destroy. 
 
 Ilis frequent lamentations over that deficiency in 
 pastoral work, which was forced on him in later years 
 by the pressure of public duty, may convey a false 
 impression of the extent to which this held true. It 
 was certainly impossible for him to visit his congre- 
 gation as he once did, but the sick and distressed 
 were never forgotten by him ; and those who knew 
 anything of his ministry at such times bear witness 
 to the wonderful tenderness of his sympathy, and 
 delight to tell how his eye would swim with tears, and 
 how the minutest circumstance of each case was atten- 
 tively considered by him. His power, indeed, out of 
 the pulpit as well as in it, lay in that genuine big- 
 heartedness which everywhere claimed and inspired 
 confidence. 
 
 " I write as one who knows, whose own burden has been 
 made easier by him, as one around whom his arms have 
 been, and on whose cheek the kiss of his deep sympathy 
 has fallen. Few, indeed, who knew him only as the 
 genial companion, the ready platform speaker, or the 
 powerful preacher, can, even remotely, conceive of the way 
 he had of talking to, and acting upon, human hearts, xvhen 
 alone with them. It was then that the glory of the man 
 
236 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 came out ; then 3'ou knew with what a vision he saw into 
 you and comprehended you ; then he spoke words that 
 went straicfht into your soul, and carried healing with 
 them, for he never kept you down to himself, but took 
 you up with himself to the Father. I cannot say what is 
 in my heart to say, but this one thing I would like all who 
 have never been alone with him when spiritual things 
 were spoken about, to beheve and know, that he was a 
 grander, broader, deeper, diviner man than he could ever 
 have appeared to you to be. Nearly thirteen years ago, 
 as a young lad, a stranger to this country, I first met him, 
 and from that hour his great heart, which ahvays warmed 
 to the stranger, was ever ready to open, and his kindly 
 hand to help. When I went abroad to engage in the 
 work which lay nearest his own heart, it was with no 
 formal prayer that we parted, but one ever to be remem- 
 bered ; with no formal farewell of a formal divine, but 
 with a loving embrace ; and when I returned, most unwil- 
 lingly, but through necessity, the same arms were ready 
 to welcome me. This is not the way unknown men are 
 wont to be dealt with by known men ; young men by old ; 
 men feebly struggling, or baffled and beaten, by those who 
 are secure on the platform of life : but it is the way to 
 win souls, for all that, and it was the way in which he 
 won many."* 
 
 " His power of sympathy," said Dr. Watson, in his 
 beautiful funeral sermon, " was the first and last thing in 
 
 his character which impressed you I never knew 
 
 a man bound to humanity at so many points ; I never 
 knew a man who found in humanity so much to interest 
 him. To him the most commonplace man or woman 
 yielded up some contribution of individuahty, and you 
 v;ere tempted to Avonder which of all the various moods 
 through which he passed, was the one most congenial to 
 him, 
 
 " ' When he came to see me,' said a blacksmith, ' he 
 Bpoke as if he had been a smith himself, but he never 
 went away without leaving Christ in my heart ! ' " 
 
 • Letter from the Eov. C. M. Grant. 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 237 
 
 To his eldest Son wlien he was a very young boy on a visit to Piunary, 
 Tlie original is carefully written in large Eoman letters : — 
 
 Glasgow, August 4, 1862. 
 
 " I am so glad yoii are in Morven, and so tappy there. 
 I never was so happy in all my life as I used to be when 
 I was a boy there. I think of you as if you were myself 
 young again. For I fished with Sandy and uncle John 
 for cod among the rocks in the bay, and in the burn 
 for trout, and went to the Byre for warm milk, just as you 
 are doing. But then all the old terriers are dead. There 
 were Cuilag and Gasgach — oh, such dogs ! If you saw 
 them worry an otter or wild cat ! They would never give 
 in. Ask your uncle John about them, and ask him to 
 show you the otter's den at Clachoran. Oh, Nommey, be 
 happy ! for when you are old like me you will remember 
 Fiunary as if it was the garden of Eden without the 
 serpent. 
 
 " I wish you could remember, as I can, all the dear 
 friends who were once there, and who would have loved 
 you as as they loved me — my grandpapa, with his white 
 hair and blind eyes, and my grandmamma, so kind and 
 loving ; and aunts Margaret, Mary, Grace, Archy, Jessy. 
 I see all their faces now before me. They were all so 
 good, and loved God and everybody. Dockie, dear ! thank 
 God for good friends, and for having so many of them. 
 
 " Did they show you Avhere I lived when I was a boy, 
 and the school I used to be in 1 " 
 
 To his eldest Daughter, when she went to school at Brighton :— 
 
 Glasgow, April 30, 1865. 
 
 " Do you remember your old father ? I'm not sure if 
 you do — old Abel Feragus, the friend of Mrs. Brown ? 
 
 " So you were very sorry, old girl, when we left you 
 that day ? You thought you would not care. Hem ! I 
 knew better. 
 
 " And so the poor lassie cried, and was so lonely the 
 first night, and would have given worlds to be at home 
 again ! And your old dad was not a bit sorry to leave 
 you, not he — cruel-liearted man that he is ! Nor was 
 
238 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 your motlior, wretched old woman that she is! And 'yet 
 ' you would wonder ' how sorry we both were, and how often 
 the old man said ' Poor dear lassie ! ' and the old wife 
 ' Poor dear darling ! ' But no tear filled our eye. Are 
 you sure of that ? I'm not. And the old father said, 
 ' I'm not afraid of my girl. I'm sure she Avill prove 
 herself good, kind, loving, and obedient, and M'on't be 
 lazy, but do her work like a heroine, and remember all 
 her old dad told her ! ' and her mammy said the same. 
 And then the mammy would cry, and the old dad would 
 call her a fool (respectfully). And so we reached London, 
 and then we got your letter, which made us very happy ; 
 and then the old man said, ' Never fear ! she will do right 
 
 well, and will be very happy, and Miss Avill like her, 
 
 and she will like ^liss ! ' and ' We shall soon meet 
 
 again ! ' chimed in the mammy. ' If it be God's will, 
 we shall,' said the dad, ' and won't we be happy ! ' 
 
 " God bless you, my darling ! May you love your own 
 Father in heaven far more than you love your own father 
 on earth, and I know how truly you love me, and you 
 know how truly I love you ; but He loves you infinitely 
 more than I can possibly do, though I give you my whole 
 heart. 
 
 " Will you write a line to the old man ? And remember 
 he won't criticise it, but be glad to hear all your chatter." 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 " It is now, I think, thirteen years, my dearest , 
 
 since your old dad and your mother first saw Avith joy and 
 gratitude your chubby face, and received you, their first- 
 born, as a gift from God. It Avas indeed a solemn day to 
 your parents to have had an immortal being given to them, 
 whom they could call their own child ; and it AA^as a 
 solemn day, though you kncAV it not, for you, dearest, 
 when you began a life Avhich would never end. You have 
 been a source of great happiness to us ever since ; and 
 you cannot yet understand the longings, the earnest 
 prayers offered up by us both that you may, by the gTace 
 of God, make your life a source of joy and blessing to 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 239 
 
 yourself, and be a joy to Jesus Christ, to Whom you 
 belong, Who has redeemed you to God with His own blood, 
 and Who loves you inconceivably more than your own loving 
 parents do. I hope, dearest, you will thank God for all 
 His kindness to you — do speak 3'our heart out to Him. 
 He likes you to do it, and I am sure you do feel grateful 
 for your many mercies, 
 
 " Oh, my OAvn darling! you little know how your mother 
 and I desire and pray for this, as the one thing to obtain 
 which we could suffer and die, that you may love and obey 
 Jesus Christ ; that you may know Him and speak to Him, 
 trust Him, obey Him, as your Friend, Brother, Saviour, 
 Who dearly loves you, and desires you dearly to love Him 
 in return. There is no blessing God could give me in this 
 world to be compared for one moment to that of seeing 
 my children, who are dearer to me than life itself, proving 
 themselves to be children of God. Let me have this joy 
 in you first, as my first-born ! God will give the un- 
 speakable blessing if you pray to Him, and speak to Him 
 about it, simply, frankly, as you would speak to me — but 
 even more confidingly than you could even to me. In 
 the meantime, dearie, thank Him for all He has done for 
 you and given to you, I am sure I thank Him for His 
 gift of yourself to us both, 
 
 " I dare say you have sometimes home sickness. Eh ? 
 But you cannot suffer from this youthful disease as much 
 as I did when I went first from home. So you need not 
 wonder — at least I do not — if you should sometimes think 
 yourself on the other side of the globe, and get into sad 
 fits, and weary longings, and think everything at home 
 most beautiful ! But this is just a part of our education, 
 and a training for life, and must be made the most of. 
 
 *' Now write to your dad, anyway you like. I won't 
 
 criticise. Miss won't look at your letter, as I wish 
 
 you to write freely to me. She kindly agreed to this. 
 All our correspondence may be quite secret, Miss Macleod ! 
 Now, my lassie, cheer up I Be jolly ! Work like a brick, 
 and enjoy yourself like a linnet, I am sure you will come 
 on famously — ' Never say die ! ' " 
 
140 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To the Same :— 
 
 Balmoral, Junt 12, 1865. 
 
 " I want to sond j'ou a loving word from this, to prova 
 to you liow your old dad remembers you. 
 
 " I came here Saturday, and preached yesterday, and 
 you may be sure the Queen is very good and kind, when 
 she is so kind to your old dad. But he loves her very 
 much, and is proud to serve her. 
 
 " I am always glad to hear from you, dearest, and I 
 hope you seriously and prayerfully try and do all I told 
 you in my long letter. I would sooner see you sick and 
 poor with the love of Christ, than the queen of the whole 
 world, for ever and ever, without it." 
 
 Shandon, Afrxl 18, 1866. 
 
 " Your dad has come here for rest — that is, to reply 
 to a ton of letters; among others, to yours of March 3. 
 Oh, I wish you were here to enjoy the delicious air ! No ! 
 for you have got better at Brighton. To see your mammy? 
 
 No ! for you prefer Miss to all your family. To 
 
 be clasped to the huzzwm oi your old dad? No! you 
 are too refined for that. But to get your dad his sli})pers, 
 for his unfeeling fiimily left them behind in Glasgow ! 
 
 " This day is lovely — the sea is calm, and the gulls are 
 floating about without coucfhs or colds. No flannels on 
 their throats, no nightcaps on their heads, or warm stock- 
 ings on their feet. No gruel or warm bath before going 
 to bed. No ' Gregory ' in the morning. The birds are 
 singing most correctly, and never were in a boarding- 
 school. The old hills are as strong as ever, and if they 
 are not Macleod's they Make Clouds. Yesterday lots of 
 rain fell on them, and they had no umbrellas. But 
 though their noses ran with water for a Avhile, they are all 
 dry now, and no sneezing. The winds are kissing the sea, 
 and the sea only laughs. Naughty sea and winds ! No 
 wonder the good steamer is indignant, and blows smoke at 
 the wind, and whips the sea with its paddles till it foams 
 with rage. The lambs are playing about like little 
 idle fools, never thinking of the coming days of mint 
 
SOME CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 241 
 
 sauce or roast mutton. They tliink that the world was 
 made to enable them to suck their mothers and wag their 
 tails. They don't believe in butchers, nor do their 
 mothers. The quiet is great, but for -Willy. His song 
 is louder than the birds. He flies like the wind, lasses 
 his mother like the lambs, is as hearty as the gulls, and 
 patronises the cruel butcher." 
 
 To the Same :— 
 
 Ems, May 1, 1871. 
 
 " My dearest old girl, I send my parental blessing to 
 you on your birthday. That was a joyous day to your 
 father and mother, and every return makes us more and 
 
 more thanlcful for you, and . But I won't praise 
 
 you, — what ? but I will say that . No, I won't ! 
 
 One thing is certain. What ? Guess ! Well, then, of all 
 the girls I ever knew, you are one that — what ? It is 
 
 for you to say. This only I will say, that . But 
 
 there's no use! You know what, my darling ! So kiss 
 
 your father. As for , poor body, the less said about 
 
 her the better ! But this I will say, she never snores — 
 
 never ! and she also — ^yes, of course- 
 but not — who ?" 
 
 -loves the children. 
 
 The Spirit of Eomanee and Song. 
 
 The Sea Serpent Emigrating. 
 
 VOL. IL 
 
 R 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 INDIA. 
 
 DE. MACLEOD had for several years been 
 convinced that the Church ought to send a 
 deputation to India. There were many imj)ortant 
 questions connected with missions in that country, 
 which, he believed, could be decided only by Com- 
 missioners, who, besides considering matters affecting 
 particular localities, might take a wide survey of the 
 condition of India in reference to Christianity. He 
 had long anticipated, too, the possibility of being 
 himself appointed to such a duty, and was prepared, 
 at almost any personal risk, to undertake it. ' I have 
 the most distinct recollection,' writes Dr. Clerk, 
 'that in the summer of 18G5, speaking to me, as he 
 often did, of the possibility of his being asked to 
 go to India, he told me that medical friends, to 
 whom he had casually mentioned the matter, had 
 assured him it would entail certain death, but that 
 he had coimted the cost, and that if the Chiu'ch 
 asked him to represent her, he would rather die in 
 the discharge of his duty tlian live in the neglect of 
 it. I am convinced that, in the true martyr cpirit, 
 he gave his life for the conversion of India, and that 
 
INDIA. 243 
 
 the fruit will appear in due season. He ardently 
 anticipated glorious results from a Christianised 
 India — a youthful Church with the warmth of the 
 Eastern heart and the quickness of the Eastern mind, 
 drawing its inspiration, not from the stereotj^^ped 
 forms of the West, but directly from the Fountain of 
 Eternal Life and Truth. Often did he in the most 
 glowing language picture the effect upon Europe and 
 America should light again stream from the East to 
 quicken their decaying energies.' 
 
 He was, therefore, not taken by surprise when the 
 General Assembly of 1867, acting on the unanimous 
 request of the Mission Board at Calcutta, appointed 
 him, along with Dr. Watson of Dundee, to represent 
 the Church of Scotland in India. 
 
 Before he left this country he carefully determined 
 the chief questions to which his attention should be 
 directed. Ever since his enthusiasm had been kindled 
 by his intercourse at Loudoun with the noble widow 
 of ex-Governor-General Lord Hastings, he had taken 
 an almost romantic interest in the policy of our 
 Eastern empire ; was familiar with the details of 
 every campaign from the days of Clive to the Indian 
 mutiny ; and had read much of the religious as well 
 as civil history of the natives. He had also for years 
 taken an active part in the management of India 
 Missions ; and in order to profit by as wide a range 
 of experience as possible, he corresponded with 
 persons in this country well acquainted with, or 
 earnestly interested in, these Missions, and obtained 
 from them various, and therefore valuable statements 
 of those difficulties and objections regarding which 
 
 R 2 
 
244 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 inquiiy was needed. From the topics suggested by 
 these and similar authorities, he and his brother 
 deputy drew up, during their outward voyage, a 
 series of queries, embracing the points which most 
 required investigation. 
 
 They had also peculiar advantages, when in India, 
 for gaining the best answers to their inquiries. They 
 were welcomed as friends by the representatives and 
 agents of every Church and Mission, from the bishops 
 of the Church of England in India down to the poorest 
 native catechist, and received from them all every 
 post^ible aid and information. They enjoyed the 
 frankest intercourse with educated natives of all 
 varieties of creed and of no creed, and with the 
 conductors of the Press, religious and secular, 
 Christian and Hindoo. They were honoured like- 
 wise with the confidence of the highest and best 
 informed Officers of State, in each of the Presidencies, 
 and were thus able to gauge opinion in different 
 places and among different ranks and types of men, 
 and to form their conclusions from unusually com- 
 prehensive data. ' We had in our investigations,' 
 he reports, ' advantages similar to those possessed 
 by a Government Commission, which cites select 
 witnesses and visits select districts, and the value 
 of whose conclusions is not to be estimated by the 
 time spent in inquiry, or to be balanced against 
 those arrived at by 'the oldest inhabitant' of any 
 one village.' 
 
 In speaking of the trouble Dr. Macleod took to 
 obtain trustworthy information, not only on the ques- 
 tions bearing directly on his mission, but in regard to 
 
INDIA. 245 
 
 everything which came under his notice, and the con- 
 sequent accuracy of the conclusions he reached (an 
 accuracy which has since been recognised by some of 
 the ablest authorities on Indian affairs), Dr. Watson 
 thus describes the difficulties which had to be 
 encountered : — 
 
 ''!N'o one who has not had something to do with 
 gathering information can imagine the difficulty of 
 sifting the opinions and statements which are made 
 by residents in India on its internal affairs. If you 
 are content to take the first witness you find as an 
 authority, and to form your judgment according to 
 his evidence, you will avoid much perplexity; but 
 you will run the risk of holding most erroneous and 
 one-sided views. Dr. Macleod used often to express 
 his astonishment at the opposite and contradictory 
 declarations made to him by persons who seemed to 
 have had the best opportunities of knowing what they 
 spoke about. Two men, or half-a-dozen men, who 
 ought to have been each in his own line a guarantee 
 for correctness, would on some point give as many 
 different opinions, formed on their own personal 
 experience. 
 
 " Each man had lived in a little world of his own ; 
 in the presence of his own countrymen he had been 
 a stranger to all except his own circle. And, indeed, 
 one is surprised at the separateness and isolation of 
 Eui'opean society in the great centres of the popula- 
 tion ; for, if you pass from one little cii'cle to another, 
 it is like crossing into a new region of mental life ; 
 and the instruments for gauging facts, opinions, expe- 
 riences, and modes of thought need to be readjusted. 
 
246 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To follow implicitly the traditions and convictions of 
 youi* informants on almost any subject of wide interest, 
 you must lay aside to-day the impressions you took 
 up yesterday ; to-morrow you may have cause to 
 retui-n to your earlier ones, and day by day you may 
 have to modify now one and now another of your 
 notions, proved on what you believed good grounds ; 
 and after all you will retain yoiu- latest conviction 
 with caution and modesty. 
 
 " It was no easy matter, then, for a man like him, 
 who wished to probe everything, and to attain to the 
 truth, to ascertain correct data. At times he grew 
 impatient, and at other times he used to look on the 
 matter on its ludicrous side, and illustrate it by a 
 story his father had often told, of an incident at the 
 trial of some case at which he was present. The 
 witness in the box was a Highlandman unable to speak 
 a word of English, and he gave his evidence through 
 an interpreter. When a question was put to the 
 vritness, he would hesitate and say, ' I think, well I 
 daresay, yes.' Then the interpreter turns to the 
 judge with this statement, ' He says, "Yes," my lord, 
 but he seems not quite sure.' '■ Ask him again,' says 
 the judge ; and again the witness hesitated, balanced 
 statements, and concluded with ' I think, well I dare- 
 say, no.' Whereupon the interpreter announced the 
 reply, and shouted, ' lie says, " Xo," my lord,' and 
 so the case proceeded, interrupted every now and 
 again by the twofold answer, ' He says, " Yes," my 
 lord; he says, "No," my lord,' until the judge com- 
 pletely lost his temper. 
 
 " It was often through similar difficulties of contra- 
 
INDIA. 247 
 
 diction from the witness-box, and from different lips, 
 that Dr. Macleod was obliged to draw his knowledge 
 of what were the facts and opinions of Indian life ; 
 and he seized every chance of correcting his impres- 
 sions by putting the right questions to the right men, 
 and by a sort of instinctive appreciation of the value 
 of the replies he received to his numerous and sifting 
 inquiries." 
 
 The reception accorded to the deputation was 
 enthusiastic, and their labours were constant and 
 onerous. Crowds, in which natives were mingled 
 with English, assembled in the Churches in which 
 they were to preach, or at the meetings they were 
 to address. Every day, almost every hour, had its 
 engagements ; examining schools, conferring with 
 missionaries, and responding to the attentions and 
 hospitalities which were bestowed on them. To the 
 Indian habit of early rising there was too frequently 
 added the home custom of late sitting, with its con- 
 sequent exhaustion. ' It is certainly trying,' he 
 writes, ' for a stranger, who is entertained hospitably 
 every night, and who consequently retu'es late, to 
 have his first sleep broken by the card of some dis- 
 tinguished official handed to him about daybreak.' 
 This strain upon his system told more perniciously 
 than he was at the time conscious of. ' It was very 
 difficult,' Dr. Watson says, ' to convince him that, for 
 a man like him, labour in Scotland, with its cold and 
 bracing atmosphere, was one thing, and labour in a 
 tropical climate was another thing. He believed it 
 on the whole ; but unless the belief was impressed 
 on his mind by physical pain or inconvenience, it 
 
2+8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 was inojDcrative ; and he was apt to forget that he 
 was in a region where exertion such as he was accus- 
 tomed to at home would entail upon him consequences 
 of a serious kind. The only instance in which he 
 seemed to distrust the climate of India was in regard 
 to his mode of living. He could both enjoy life and 
 forego its enjoyments, as few men could, without a 
 sense of loss; he could avail himself of the most 
 boundless hospitality, and he could at the most sump- 
 tuous table fare like a hermit; and when, a day or 
 two after his landing in Bombay, he was told by a 
 physician that everything which was safe for him at 
 home was not equally safe in India, he was perfectly 
 unaffected by the news ; and, so far as meat and 
 drink were concerned, he walked strictly by medical 
 rule. In all other respects he forgot his belief in 
 the dangers of India : he spoke in public, he talked 
 in private, he listened, he exerted body and brain from 
 morning till night, he spent himself without grudg- 
 ing and without consideration. On one occasion he 
 preached for about an hour while sailing down the 
 Eed Sea, and at the close of the service he was almost 
 dead. Ilis face was flushed, his head ached, his brain 
 was confused ; and when he retired to his cabin the 
 utmost efforts were required to restore him. The 
 warning was noted by him, and often remembered, 
 but it was as often forgotten or neglected afterwards. 
 ''I shall not attempt," Dr. Watson continues, 'to 
 describe the interest which was felt amongst all classes 
 in India in the speeches and sermons of Dr. Macleod. 
 The visit of a man of much less note would have 
 attracted some attention, and would have brought 
 
INDIA. 249 
 
 together a very large proportion of the English- 
 speaking population in every city which was visited. 
 Moreover, the novelty of the visit, the first of its 
 kind from Scotland, was sufficient to awaken the 
 sympathies of Christians, and to excite the curiosity, 
 if not a deeper feeling, amongst all the races and 
 religions of India. His name had gone before him 
 in every province. l!^o efforts had been used to 
 draw the notice of the world to his visit; the 
 ordinary publication of a list of passengers by the 
 next steamer, confirming a rumour that Dr. Macleod 
 was on his way to India, was of itself enough. His 
 arrival was looked forward to with eagerness, and, 
 soon after his landing, invitations and inquiries from 
 all parts of the country were sent in. Wherever he 
 went he was received with kindness and cordiality; 
 in many places with that deep respect and veneration 
 which had grown up in the minds of those who had 
 admired his works and had heard of his labours, and 
 in many places he was welcomed with feelings of 
 ardour rising to enthusiasm. 
 
 " The foremost men in India in civil and military 
 and ecclesiastical posts were ready to do him honour 
 and to aid him ; in public and in private they testified 
 for him their personal respect ; and when they found 
 him to be a man whose eyes were observant, whose 
 sympathies were quick, whose large-heartedness was 
 so comprehensive and whose humour was so genial 
 and overpowering, it seemed as if all barriers were 
 broken down, and as if they had known him person- 
 ally all their lives. He gained access to persons 
 and soui'ces of information which, without any 
 
2 5 o LIFE OF NORMA N MA CL EOD. 
 
 wish to disoblige, would have been shut to most 
 other men. 
 
 *' Nothing indeed was lacking in the welcome which 
 greeted him ; and never did visitor appreciate kind 
 ness more. But withal he Avas not misled by these 
 marks of flattery and good-feeling. He could distin- 
 guish between the genuine and the unreal : he knew 
 well enough that whilst there were many who testified 
 their zeal and good-will, many more had the future in 
 view, and were careful to propitiate an author who was 
 likely to command as wide a circle of readers as any 
 writer in Great Britain. And, apart from this, he had 
 set his heart on the special object which carried him 
 to India ; and all external attentions, all readiness to 
 listen, all offers of hospitality or public respect, were 
 regarded by him as helps to his work, and as opening 
 up for him a surer path to that knowledge of Indian 
 life and Indian affairs of which he was in search." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 CuTLClTENNA, July 24, 1867. 
 
 " Dear place, with what genuine love and gratitude I 
 write its name ! I thought I was too old to love nature as 
 I have done. What a time I have had, what glorious 
 scenery, what fresh mornings, and, oh, what evenings ! 
 With smooth seas gleaming with the hues of a dove's 
 neck ; mountains with every shade which can at such 
 times be produced ; Glencoe in sunshine and in deepest 
 crimson ; Glengoar, with its sunbeams lighting up tlie 
 hill sides with softest dreamy velvet hues ; mountain 
 masses of one dark hue clearl}^ defined against the blue 
 sky, and fading into grey over Duart. What cloud 
 shadows, and what effects from pines, and cottages with 
 grey smoke and lines of silver along the shore, and the 
 masts of ships at anchor ! Praise God for this glorious 
 
INDIA. 251 
 
 "world ? tlie world made and adorned by Him wlio died 
 on the cross. What a gospel of peace and good-will it 
 ever is to me— not a prison but a palace — hung with 
 pictures of glory, full of works of art, and all so pure and 
 holy. Every bunch of green fern, every bit of burning 
 heather, the birches, the pure streams, the everything, says, 
 ' I love you — love me — and rejoice ! ' Sometimes I wept, 
 and sometimes prayed, and enjoyed silent praise — I bless 
 Thee for it ! 
 
 " And then there was my dear family all together, and all 
 so well, and the walks, the pic-nics to the hills, Glencoe, 
 Glengoar, the fishing in the evening — all sunshine — all hap- 
 piness — most wonderful for so many and all sinners, in this 
 world of sin and discipline. It is of God our Father, and 
 a type of what will be for ever. 
 
 " Forbid that this should hinder us and not rather help 
 us to do our duty, severe duty, and to accept any trial. 
 I feel this is a calm harbour in which I am refitting for a 
 long voyage." 
 
 To J. M. Ludlow, Esq. : — 
 
 August, 1867. 
 
 "Yes, I go on the 5th of November on a great mission 
 to India, not verily to Presbyterians only, but to see Avhat 
 the eye alone can see, and to verify or test what cannot be 
 seen, but which I either question or believe anent missions 
 in general and education. 
 
 ' I have been in paradise with my family. The heavenly 
 district is called in maps of earth, Lochaber. But what 
 map could give all the glory in the world without, and the 
 world within ! 
 
 " It has been a blessed preparation for labour night and 
 day. I had a mission sermon of good-will to man." 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 Balmoral, Fridmj, Scptemher 10th, 1867. 
 
 " It was a glorious day ; but rather a weary journey 
 from Glasgow yesterday. 
 
 "This morning's telegram announced the death of Sir 
 
252 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Frederick Bruce suddenly at Boston. Lady Frances 
 Baillie, liis sister, is here. I have becu Avith her and 
 prayed with her. She accompanies me to Perth to-morrow. 
 I feel very truly for her. Three such brothers, Lord Elgin, 
 General Bruce, and Sir Frederick dying so suddenly 1 
 Mystery ! 
 
 " I had a long and pleasant interview with the Queen, 
 "With my last breath I will uphold the excellence and 
 nobleness of her character. It was really grand to hear 
 her talk on moral courage, and on living for duty." 
 
 From his Jouhnal :— 
 
 "August 11, Glasgou). — I have long been convinced 
 of the vast importance of sending a deputation to India, 
 and my friends in the Committee know it. I never brought 
 it formally before the Committee from an awkward, silly 
 feeling of fear lest they should suppose it was a mere 
 personal affair. I had, however, I believed, mentioned to 
 friends in private that so convinced was I of its import- 
 ance, that I was disposed to hazard the oft'er of my going 
 at my own expense. 
 
 " How often did I ponder over India ! It possessed 
 me, but I held myself in. I determined not to lead but 
 to follow. The Lord knows how often I asked His counsel 
 
 " When the Sunday question came up, I gave up all 
 thoughts of India. I felt then that I was tabooed. I 
 would, indeed, have resigned the Convenership, except from 
 the determination not to confess any sense of wrong doing 
 which I did not feel. I learned but the other day that a 
 meeting was called at the time to get me to resign ; the 
 vote was taken and carried a^^ainst them. I thank God 
 for the noble freedom of the Church, which could not 
 only entertain the thought of sending me, but act upon it 
 as they have done. 
 
 " After my report for the last Assembly was finished, a 
 letter came from Calcutta, from our Corresponding Board, 
 reqiiesting the Convener to visit India. 
 
 " I called a meeting in Edinburgh of a few friends in 
 the Committee, best fitted to advise me. They told 
 
INDIA. 253 
 
 me I must lay an official document before the Com- 
 mittee. The meeting was called by the Moderator of 
 Assembly, and I was absent. All I said was that this 
 Assembly should decide one way or other, if I, a man 
 fifty-six years of age, was even to consider the proposal. 
 I telegraphed next day to Dr. Craik to print their 
 deliverance, whatever it was, so that the Assembly might 
 have it before them in a tangible form. It was printed 
 accordingly, and I simply read it, excusing the fact of its 
 not being in the report, from the request having come so 
 late, and in this form taking me aback. The Assembly 
 discussed the question, and were, strange to say, unanimous 
 in granting the request, if the Presbytery of Glasgow 
 agreed thereto, and if Funds were raised independent of 
 the subscriptions for the Mission. Mr. Johnstone, of 
 Greenock, nobly offered to guarantee £1,000 if I went, 
 and so this barrier was removed ! 
 
 " My physicians said Yes. 
 
 " My wife said Yes, if God so wills. My aged and 
 blessed mother said Yes. 
 
 " My congregation ? Well, I wrote dear James Camp- 
 bell, my wise, cautious, loving, and dear friend and elder, 
 and he read to my Session a letter written from CuilchennR, 
 which told the whole truth, and the Session said Yes. 
 Could I say No ? Could I believe in God, as a guide, 
 and say No ? It was difficult to say Yes. The wife and 
 bairns made it difficult ; but was I to be a coward, and 
 every officer in the army to rebuke me ? No ! I said 
 Yes, with a good conscience, a firm heart, after much 
 prayer, and I dared not say No. 
 
 " No doubt all my personal feelings, the Mission ques- 
 tion excepted, would keep me at home. I have seen so 
 much of the world that I would not go to India for the 
 mere purpose of visiting it as a traveller, should I see it in 
 a month for nothing from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin. 
 I would not give a Aveek in Rome, which I have never 
 seen, for any time in India, were it close at hand. 
 
 "Apart from Missions, nothing could possibly induce 
 me to run risks, encounter fatigue, and make such sacii- 
 fices in my fifty-sixth year. 
 
25+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " I cannot as Convener lay my hand on any one 
 authentic and reliable book or report, enabling me to get 
 a clear, firm, unhesitating grasp of the real state, difiiculties, 
 and requirements of our Missions. 
 
 " We are at this moment passing through a crisis in 
 our Mission histor^^ both in India and at home. There are 
 questions of increased salaries, according to the circum- 
 stances of each Mission station ; the employment of home 
 native teachers; the emplojnnent — its nature, place, 
 pay, &c., of native ministers, with their future relationship 
 to the Board, the local Presbytery, and the Committee ; 
 the formation of Corresponding Boards, and the clearing 
 up of constantly recurring misunderstandings with them ; 
 the personal examination into the actual condition of each 
 Mission station, and the encouraging of the missionaries ; 
 the obtaining accurate information through letters from 
 the Home Government to the Indian Government, and 
 from every leading Missionary Society labouring in India, 
 that so, by confidential communications Avith representative 
 men of all parties and creeds, we may estimate the actual 
 state and • prospects of Missions in India. Such is a faint 
 outline of some of the objects of a deputation as far as 
 India is concerned. 
 
 " As to the danger, it is nothing, for God is everywhere. 
 As to family, He can take care of them ; so can He of the 
 dear congregation. But it seems to me, — and surely my 
 Father will not let me be in darkness ! — to be my duty, 
 and so I go, in the name of God — Father, Son, and Spirit." 
 
 "August 20. — Dear Watson goes with me. Thank 
 God, the way is clear. 
 
 " The one grand difficulty is the fact that I have not 
 since the Sabbath controversy been much of a pastor. 
 God knows I have not been spending my time selfishly. 
 Every hour has been occupied for the public — that is, my 
 small public — good. There has been no idleness. But I 
 have not been able amidst my work to visit, and though I 
 condemn myself by the confession, yet I Avill make it, that 
 a chief, yea, the chief ground of ministerial usefulness, is 
 the personal attachment of the people, and this is gained 
 most by personal visitation. It is a righteous ground. I 
 
INDIA. 255 
 
 am amazed at their patience and attachment to me ! My 
 only consolation is my heartfelt attachment to them — if 
 they only knew how great it is ! 
 
 " Come life or death, I believe that it is God's will. I 
 ask no more. All results are known to Him. Enouofh if 
 He in mercy reveals His will. To suspect myself deceived 
 would be to shatter all my faith in God. Again I say I 
 know not in what form He is to be glorified in or b}'- us. 
 All I know is, that I solemnly believe God says, ' It is my 
 will that you go.' 
 
 " But when I think of probabilities, I would be over- 
 whelmed unless I knew that I was not to be over- 
 anxious about the morrow, or about anything, but to rest 
 on God for each day's guidance, strength, and blessing. 
 The many I shall meet, the importance of all that is said 
 or done, the responsibility of personal influence emanating 
 from personal being ; the sermons and addresses ; the 
 questions to be asked, and the judging of the replies to 
 them ; the patience, truth, and perseverance, judgment and 
 temper needed ; the redeeming, in short, of this magnificent 
 talent when abused. How solemn the thought ! And 
 then the right use of it when I return — the labour and 
 wisdom this implies — the results which depend on its use ! 
 How affecting ! And I getting so old — little time left — 
 and having so many difficulties from within and without ! 
 But the good Master knows all — and He is so good, so 
 patient, so considerate, forbearing, strengthening, over- 
 ruling ! Amen. 
 
 " I have no legacy to leave in the form of wishes. I 
 leave God to arrange all. For my family I have but one 
 wish, that these dear ones — each a part of my being — should 
 know God, and be delivered from evil. Rich or poor, well 
 or ill, my one cry to God is, ' May they be Thine through 
 faith in Jesus, and obedience to Thy holy commandments.' 
 
 " And God will provide for my dear people. Oh, how 
 good they have been to me 1 " 
 
iS6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To James A. Campbell, Esq. : — 
 
 " I think Young's view of sacrifice superficial in the 
 extreme, and that in his desire to give prominence to per- 
 sonal righteousness as the grand end of Christ's work, in 
 which I cordially sympathize, he leaves really no room for 
 pardon as an act of mercy. But as I have not his 
 work on the subject with me, and no space for writing, I 
 won't indulcre in criticism. The best book out of si'dit, I 
 think, on this great question is Campbell's, my very dear 
 friend. It has defects when brought to the severe test vi 
 exegesis, but is the best nevertheless. 
 
 " I quite agree with Mr. that it ought to be the aim 
 
 of the legislation of every Church to make its dogmatic 
 basis square more and more with the creed of the Church 
 Catholic. A Church is catholic only when it is capable, 
 las far as its creed is concerned, of embracini? livin^f Chris- 
 tendom, so that a member or minister righteously deposed 
 from its communion should thereby be deposed as righte- 
 ously from the whole Catholic Church. 
 
 " I think the Popish Church eminently sectarian, and 
 the most remarkable union, or rather disunion of 
 * Catholics ' I have ever seen was in the Holy Sepulchre, 
 around the symbol of the grand fact wdiich should unite 
 all — Jesus the Resurrection and the Life. 
 
 " As to the question of the Sabbath, it never did nor 
 could excite my enthusiasm. It is an outside question, 
 interesting theologically as involving the higher question 
 of the relation between the old and new dispensations, 
 Judaism and Christianity. Practically, we are all one in 
 wishing and blessing God for a day for social worship ; 
 and for enjoying, in its rest from servile labour, a blessed 
 opportunity for deepening our spiritual rest with Christ in 
 God. I protested against the base superstition attached to 
 it, which in the long run would, as education and inde- 
 pendent thought advanced, but weaken its basis and turn 
 against it those who wished most to preserve it. I also 
 protested, at the risk of my life, for more elbow-room for 
 the clergy ! 
 
 " How strange and sudden has been the revolution, that 
 I, who two years ago was threatened with deposition, and 
 
INDIA. 257 
 
 was made an offscouring by so many, am this year asked 
 bj'" the Assembly to be their representative in India ! God's 
 ways are verily not our ways ! " 
 
 From Professor Max Mijller : — 
 
 " I hope your visit to India will give a new impetus to 
 the missionary work in India, by showing how much more 
 has really been achieved thasn is commonly supposed. 
 One cannot measure the success of a missionary by the 
 number of converts he has made, and it does not seem to 
 me likely that Christianity will, for some time to come, 
 sjDroad in India chiefly by means of direct conversions. 
 Its influence, however, is felt everywhere, and even the 
 formation of ncAV religious societies apparently hostile to 
 Christianity, like to the Brahma Somaj, is due indirectly 
 to the preaching and teaching of Christian missionaries. 
 From what I know of the Hindoos they seem to me riper 
 for Christianity than any nation that ever accepted the 
 gospel. It does not follow that the Christianity of India 
 will be the Christianity of England ; but that the new 
 religion of India will embrace all the essential elements 
 of Christianity I have no doubt, and that is surely 
 something worth fighting for. If people had only to go 
 to India and preach, and make hundreds and thousands 
 of converts, why, who would not be a missionary then ? " 
 
 From Sir Arthur Helps : — 
 
 Council Office, Ocfoler 3, 1807. 
 
 " What on earth takes you to India ? I do not think I 
 ever flattered any man in my life, but I do say of you, that 
 you are the greatest and most convincing preacher I ever 
 
 heard Now are we not wicked enoucfh here ? Is 
 
 there not enough work for 3^ou to do here, but that you 
 must go away from us to India ? for it appears that you 
 are going to that hot place, if I make out your bad hand- 
 writing rightly. 
 
 " I am really, without any nonsense, unhappy at your 
 going. But surely you are coming back soon." 
 
 VOL. II. S 
 
258 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his Jourxal : — 
 
 " October 27, Sunday. — The last Sunday before I sail 
 has come, and it is almost the ending of the most joyous 
 and most blessed time I have had in all my life. 
 
 " The work during these two months has been heavy. 
 I have attended eleven meetings of some importance, and 
 preached eight sermons for other congregations than my 
 own ; have had eleven district meetings of my people, at 
 each of M'hich I have given a long lecture on India ; had 
 the happiness of shaking hands Avith those who attended ; 
 have taught a communicants' class for five nights ; have 
 examined each of forty communicants ; have given the 
 Communion at ]\Iission Church, Barony, and Parkhead ; 
 have had sixty baptisms or so ; have been at Balmoral ; 
 preached at Uundee ; visited friends in Fife, Edinburgh, 
 Helensburgh, and Shandon ; have had two public dinners 
 given me ; have visited with my wife sixty families, and 
 at least twenty others by myself; had India Mission and 
 other meetings ; and had a delightful lunch in my house 
 of thirty of my dear brethren ; have finished my sketch of 
 my father's life ; written a month for ' Home Preacher ' (four 
 sermons, and very many prayers), besides collects and 
 prayers, which have finished the whole ; have written 
 * Billy Buttons ;' have written ' A Pastoral,' and circular 
 for India Mission ; have this week got two licentiates for 
 the Mission Church, &c., &c. 
 
 " In short, every day till two, sometimes three, some- 
 times four A.M., has been so fully occupied that I hardly 
 know how I liave a brain at all, for the above is but an 
 outline of work — innumerable interstices have to be filled 
 
 up- 
 
 " But what a time of joy and thanksgiving it has been. 
 Take this last week as a specimen. 
 
 " Thursday the Presbytery of Glasgow gave me a dinner, 
 with Dr. Jamieson* in the chair. He spoke like a Chris- 
 tian and a gentleman, and the whole thing was dignified, 
 Christian, catholic, and good. 
 
 * Dr. Jamioson had led the dehato on the Sabbath question in op- 
 position to the views of Dr. Macleod. 
 
INDIA. 259 
 
 " Tuesday the soiree of two hundred and fifty workers 
 in the congregation. 
 
 " Wednesday a dinner given me by about fifty friends 
 — such friends — with my good and true friend Walter 
 Smith representing the Free Kirk ; the Bishop of 
 Argyll, a truly free man, gentleman, and Christian, repre- 
 senting the Episcopal Church. Dr. Robson represented 
 the U. P. Church ; beloved John Macleod Campbell (the 
 first public dinner he ever was at !) representing no Church. 
 There was a troop of dear friends around me. 
 
 " Thursday Avas the Fast ; and a prayer-meeting was 
 held in the evening by the Presbytery as a Presbytery, 
 that crammed the Barony ; Dr. Jamieson giving an admir- 
 able address, and my friends Dr. Craik and Dr. Charteris 
 led the devotions. What a Oflorious siofht of Sfodliness 
 and brotherly love ! How truly I thank God for this for 
 the sake of the Presbytery and Church as well as for my 
 own sake personally, and as one of a deputation to India. 
 
 " On Friday, the presentation of portraits of myself, my 
 wife, and my mother, painted by Macnee ; and a marble 
 bust given by 400 of the working-classes to my wife, and 
 a cabinet coming. God bless them ! 
 
 "This day I had in the Barony some 1,150 communi- 
 cants ; in the Mission Church 243 ; at Parkhead 85 ; in all, 
 1,478. Among these Avere my darling mother, my wife, 
 John Campbell, Mrs. Macnab, my sister Jane, aunts — all 
 beloved ones. 
 
 " I preached on Joy in God, and giving of thanks. It 
 was not written ; no vestige of it remains. But it was a 
 great joy verily, and perfect peace to preach it. I never 
 had such a day ! 
 
 " The Mission Church was crowded in the eveninof. I 
 preached on ' I know in whom I have believed.' A glorious 
 text ! Dear friends, Mrs. Lockhart, the Crums, Mrs. Camp- 
 bell, were there, and Peel Dennistoun (my own son), who 
 joined in communion for the first time to-day. 
 
 " Again I say what a day of joy ! 
 
 " And now I retire to rest, praising and blessing God. 
 T. 0. A. Amen and Amen. 
 
 " 30^/i. — This is my last night at home. I have finished 
 
 s 2 
 
2 6o LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 my story of ' Billy Buttons ' — how I know not ! I hardly 
 recollect an idea of it. To-day visited sick, and baptized, 
 '&c. 1 have had a happy party with me: my darling 
 mother — so calm and nice, my aii^od aunts, my brothers 
 and sisters — my children ! What a blessed meeting, finished 
 by prayer. I wrote thirty letters last night, after meeting 
 of Session, from 11 till 4 a.m. 
 
 " Thank God I wrote with a full heart a most cordial 
 letter to Dr. Duff, but it grieves my soul to hear that 
 they open the * Free Barony ' to-morrow, the day I 
 leave, and that Dr. Duff opens it ! Nine hearers only left 
 the Barony twenty-four years ago and joined the Free 
 Church ; on the Sunday question not one, yet they build 
 a Free Barony ! Free ! In contrast with the old ? In 
 Doctrine ? Discipline ? Worship ? What ? 
 
 " God sees nil, and He is better than us all. 
 
 " I have left everything in order. I believe I shall 
 return safe. But oh ! those I leave behind. I joy in 
 God ! I know He is with me, and will guide me, and 
 make me, poor as I am, advance His kingdom. Amen ! 
 
 " W^hat more can I desire ? 
 
 " I bless God for the manifold signs He has given me 
 of His goodness. My Father, it is all between me and 
 Thee. 
 
 " Father, I am Thy child ; keep me as a child ! Amen 
 and Amen." 
 
 " Slst October, 1 a.m. — P.S. — I must here record the 
 pleasing fact that two engine-drivers from the Caledonian 
 Kailway called here to-day to express the wish of them- 
 selves and comrades that I would speak a good word to 
 their brother engine-drivers in India! They were to 
 send me the names of their friends abroad. This is very 
 delightful and encouraging." 
 
 Before he left London a farewell dinner was given 
 in his honour at Willis's Eooms, at which Dean 
 Alford presided, and many friends, literary and 
 clerical, were present. 
 
 The effects of the fatigue he had suffered during 
 
INDIA, 261 
 
 the last few weeks told visibly on his health. "When 
 he started for Paris, his limbs and feet were much 
 swollen, and continued so nearly all the time he was 
 in India. 
 
 His impressions of India have been so fully narrated 
 in his ' Peeps at the Far East ' that only a few 
 extracts from his letters are given here for biographical 
 purposes : — 
 
 To Mrs. Macleod ; — 
 
 " We are now running along the coast of Sicily. The 
 day superb, a fresh summer breeze blowing after us, and 
 every sail set, the blue waves curling their snowy heads ; 
 the white towns fringing the sea, the inland range of 
 mountains shaded with the high clouds. No sickness ; 
 cliildren even laughing. Nothing can be more exhilarating. 
 I have been very Avell, though the limbs are as yet much 
 about it. We have a very pleasant party on board. Such 
 writing, reading, chatting, laughing, smoldng, knitting, 
 walking, lounging, eating and drinking on the part of the 
 seventy passengers you never saw ! 
 
 " I am getting crammed all day by a Parsee, a mis- 
 sionary, two editors, and a judge, and already know more 
 than I knew before starting. Every hour brings a new 
 acquaintance. 
 
 " Oh, that I knew that you were as I am ! and my 
 children. Had you only this blue sky and warm sun, and 
 laughing sea ! It is the ideal of a day. The sheep, and 
 cocks and hens, and cow are all happy, and the boatswain 
 whistling like a thrush. 
 
 " Tell me always about the congregation." 
 
 To the Same :— 
 
 The ' Rangoon ' Steamer, 
 \%th Novemher. 
 
 " Preaching on board has been a difficult task. The 
 pulpit was the capstan, and it was intensely ludicrous to 
 
2 62 L TFE OF NORMA N MA CL EOD. 
 
 feel one's self embracing it "witli all one's might as the ship 
 rolled to leeward. 
 
 " Red Sea. — I preached yesterday nearl}' an hour on 
 deck, hut had so to exert myself tliat I was (juite exhausted. 
 Old Indians ministered to me, and poured iced water ovci 
 my head, and gave me some to drink with a little brandy 
 in it, which quite restored me. But everything savours oi 
 heat. The sea water is hot. The crew are all Lascars or 
 Chinamen. Punkas are kept going in the cabin, or it 
 would be intolerable. But I just thaw on — laugh and 
 joke, and feel quite happy. 
 
 " It was so odd to-day to see all the crew mustered — 
 about fifty blacks in their gay turbans, like a long row of 
 tulips, with half-a-dozen Chinamen with their little eyes, 
 broad-brimmed hats, and wide trousers. They are most 
 earnest at the wheel, and are the steersmen." 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 On the Indian Ocean. 
 
 " We "were immensely gratified by the address ^'' which 
 was presented to us by the captain and officers and all the 
 passengers. It took us quite aback — its spontaneity, its 
 heartiness. I send you a copy as published in the Times 
 of India. The original I shall preserve as one of the most 
 precious documents in my possession. I told the pas- 
 sengers that I was pleased with it, were it for no other 
 reason than it would please my wife and mother, and con 
 gregation and friends at home. I preached to them with 
 all my heart, on holding fast their confidence in Christ — 
 and I felt the j^ower of the gospel. It required all my 
 strength to speak for forty-five minutes and the thermo- 
 meter 85 deg., to about a hundred and sixty people, and to 
 dominate over the engine and screw. But all heard me." 
 
 Letter from Dr. Watson to Mrs. Macleod : — 
 
 On board the Rangoon, on the Inrlinn Oeenn. 
 
 Monday, November 2oth, 1867. 
 
 " We are here in expectation of landing at Bombay to- 
 morrow, and all in a bustle of preparation. The fountains 
 
 * See Appendix A. 
 
INDIA. 2 63 
 
 of tlie great hold of the ship are opened, and a score of 
 fellows, black, brown, copper-coloured, of all dark hues, from 
 soot to pepper and salt, are lifting the luggage on deck, 
 from one tier to another. Some passengers are eagerly 
 peeping down, to watch when theirs shall appear ; others, 
 like your husband, are busily arranging their cabin, and 
 gathering together cuffs, ties, caps, coats, hosen and hats, 
 that have been tossing about for nearly a fortnight. Nor- 
 man, you must understand, has a cabin to himself, and 
 this arrangement has developed his admirable habits of 
 order. ' Come here,' he sometimes said to me as we were 
 steering down the Red Sea, or in this jileasanter Indian 
 Ocean, ' come here and see my draper's shop,' and there it 
 was, like a village draper's, with all manner of clotlies 
 hanging from the roof — here a shirt hung up by a button- 
 hole, there a neckerchief tied by the corner, bags, books, 
 papers, forced into unwilling company and appearing un- 
 easy in the society into which they had fallen. There is a 
 decent black hat with its sides meeting like a trampled tin 
 pan. ' Man,' says he, by way of explanation, ' last night 
 I felt something very pleasant at my feet. I put my feet 
 on it and rested them — I was half asleep. How very kind, 
 I thought, of the steward, to put in an extra air cushion, 
 and when I looked in the morning it was my hat !' To-day, 
 however, everything is magnified in character a hundred 
 fold. I have just stepped into his cabin, and the drajier's 
 shop is like a dozen drapers' shops ; a lumber-room before 
 washing-day ; a travelling merchant's stall on the morning of 
 a country fair ; a pawnbroker's establishment in the process 
 of dismantling, will give you an idea of it. There is not 
 an inch of the floor or the bed to be seen, all covered with 
 boxes, and the contents of boxes. You look up to the 
 ceiling but there is no ceiling. Never did a public wash- 
 ing green show such exquisite variety, and for two yards 
 outside of the cabin door are open trunks waiting like 
 patient camels to be loaded and filled. ' Steward,* I hear 
 him say, ' did you see my red fez ? ' * Is it a blue one ? ' 
 is the counter inquiry. ' No ! ' roars Norman, ' it's a red 
 one. If you see it, bring it, and if any fellow won't give 
 it up, bring the head with it.' ' All right, sir,' replies the 
 
264 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 obsequious steward. ' Any man,' I hear him say again, 
 any man who tries to open a portmanteau -when it won't 
 open, or to shut it when it won't shut, for half an hour, 
 
 and keeps his temper ' the rest of the sentence is 
 
 drowned in the laughter of bystanders. Poor man, it is not 
 for want of muscle and labour that these ill-conditioned 
 jiortmanteaus misbehave. 
 
 " We have had a very prosperous voyage, and a very 
 happy one. Long talks of our friends at home — now in 
 merriment, and again pausing to let the corners of the 
 eye right themselves — talks of what has been, and tall^ of 
 what we expect to see and do." 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 " I Avas awakened at three on Tuesday morning by our 
 guns signalling for a pilot. Soon the whole vessel was 
 alive with excited passengers, and sleep was gone. The 
 sun was rising as I went on deck, and never in my life did 
 I see anything more gorgeous than the golden clouds, the 
 picturesque hills, the splendid bay, and the palm-trees 
 everywhere. 
 
 " My eyes are closing with sleep. 
 
 " I am writing all alone under the verandah in Mr. 
 Crum's house. The shades of evening are rapidly closing, 
 ' for in one stride comes the dark,' and the weather is 
 hot, and the crickets are chirping, and the musquitoes 
 arc buzzing, and the sultry air closes the eyes. I must 
 sleep. 
 
 " The features which struck me most on landing, and 
 when driving five miles or so to this, w^ere crowds of 
 naked men Avith thin lanky legs, some with huge ear- 
 rings or huge red turbans, not a stitch on but a cloth 
 round their loins, ugly miserable-looking creatures ; but the 
 Avhole crowd, Avithout the colour or picturesqueness of 
 the East. They look black, ugly, poverty-stricken Avretches ; 
 tlie native huts, such as one Avould expect to see in the 
 poorest villages in Africa: the streets confused rubbish, un- 
 finished, a total absence of order or anything im})Osing, 
 huggery-muggery everywhere The one good feature, until 
 
INDIA. 2 65 
 
 I came to Malabar Hill, Avliere we live, is tlie glorious masses 
 of cocoa-trees and palms, here and there, with houses or 
 huts nestling near them, and troops of naked bronze chil- 
 dren runnino- about. 
 
 " December 3, Tuesday. — We have had a great St. An- 
 drew's dinner. Mornino- meetinof of missionaries of all de- 
 nominations. Dr. Wilson most kind. I preached on Sun- 
 day. Such a crowd. The governor, commander-in-chief, 
 and a number of high-class natives were present. I never 
 saw such a scene. Had a long meeting with the Corre- 
 sponding Board yesterday. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " Colgaum. — As we left the village to return at 8, the 
 scene was very striking. The huge red moon was rising 
 over the village, between us and the sky was the outline of 
 the temples, with banyan and other trees. Shej)herds were 
 driving in flocks of sheep and goats, while in the centre of 
 the picture was the group of Avhite-robed Christians, 
 jjastors, elders, and people, with the missionaries from the 
 great Western world. 
 
 " The night will soon pass ! 
 
 " At eight we returned to the same place, accompanied 
 
 by , who, like most Europeans, knows nothing almost 
 
 of the American ]\Iission or any other ; and though seven- 
 teen years in the district, had never visited or exammed 
 into it, and would have no doubt told the people at home 
 that they were doing nothing. He confessed his surprise 
 at what he saw. There were thirty Christians and about 
 seventy heathens present. Psalms were sung in Mahratti, 
 and the tunes Mahratti also, the precentor being a pastor, 
 who accompanied the air on a big guitar, held vertically 
 like a bass fiddle. Then prayer, then an address on Trans- 
 migration of Souls. Then one by a famous native preacher, 
 intehectual, calm, and eloquent, Ramechuna, on the only 
 true relisfion which, he said, was in accordance with the 
 character of God, the wants of men, and was revealed in 
 Scripture. Among other evidences he mentioned the 
 moral character of Christians, and appealed to the very 
 heathen to judge as to the difference between the native 
 Christians and the native heathen. 1 gave an address on 
 
2 66 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 both occasions, which "vvas translated, and so did Watson. 
 They gave an address to us. The Moderator sent in his 
 own hand-writing a letter after me, which I bog you to 
 cojjy and keej) as gold. 
 
 " I never spent a more delightful evening in my life ! 
 The Americans have six hundred members, seventy or 
 eighty teachers, six native pastors, Avitli excellent schools 
 for Christian children only. Preaching is their forte. 
 
 " .... It is one of the mysteries in this land to 
 hear natives teach Christianity, who have been possessed 
 of every argument in its favour, for ^^ears, but are 
 as far from accepting it as ever. Their difficulties are 
 not from immorality, for their lives are equal to the 
 average of most professing, though not real, Cln-istians 
 at home. They are hapi)y, on the whole, in their 
 families, live all together, and are fond of their rela- 
 tions, and are sober, and, among each other, tolerably 
 truthful and honest — and, on the Avhole, faithful servants, 
 &c. Nor are their ditficulties chiefly intellectual, though 
 the Christianity which they oppose is often misappre- 
 hended — I fear, in some respects and in some cases, mis- 
 represented — by missionaries with little culture. But their 
 difficulties are social ; they have not, as yet, the deep con- 
 victions and the moral strength to give up Caste. This 
 would, in almost every case, imply the breaking up of their 
 whole family life — parents, wife, children, and friends being 
 separated from them as literally out-casts. But, never- 
 theless, I cannot comprehend the want of soul, the appa- 
 rent want of a capacity to be possessed, overpowered, 
 mastered by the truth. IMany will fly round and round the 
 light, but never see it. They will give the fullest account 
 of Christianity, and say they disbelieve in all idolatry, yet 
 every day perform at home their idolatrous rites — be almost 
 ready for ordination, and take a whim to go as a pilgrim 
 to the holy cities. Superstition and Fetisch live in them." 
 
 To the Same :— 
 
 Bombay, December 1. 
 
 "It seems an age since I left home. I feel as if I 
 were an old Indian, and had become familiar with hea*i and 
 
INDIA. 267 
 
 heathenism, I have very been well. The swelling in my 
 feet is as bad as ever ; but I have no pain of any kind. 
 
 " As to our work here, everything has succeeded beyond 
 our most sanguine expectation. We have seen much, heard 
 much, and, I hope, learned much. We feel that we have 
 done good. 
 
 " I communicated yesterday with the native congregation 
 of the Free Church. About eighty communicants." 
 
 From a letter of Sir Alexa]!ODER Grant to a friend at liome : — 
 
 " I had a select party of educated natives to meet 
 Dr. Macleod. He talks to them in a large, conciliatory, 
 manly way, which is a perfect model of missionary style. 
 
 1 had the most charming talks with him, lasting always till 
 
 2 A.M., and his mixture of poetry, thought, tenderness, 
 manly sense, and humour was to me perfectly delightful. 
 I had no idea his soul was so great. His testimony about 
 India will be most valuable, for he has such quickness of 
 apprehension as well as largeness of view, and has had 
 such wide previous experience of all European Churches 
 and countries." 
 
 To Mrs. Watson : — 
 
 Bombay, Novemler 2Wi, 1867. 
 
 " If you are in the least degree inclined to pity your 
 beloved absentee, to feel anxious about him, to imagfine 
 anything whatever wrong with him in soul, spirit, or body, 
 or in his conduct to superiors, inferiors, or equals, I beg 
 to assure you that all such thoughtful, spouselike cares 
 are thrown away. He is, if anything, too much carried 
 away by a sort of boyish enthusiasm for palm groves, and 
 laughs too much at the naked wretches called Hindoos 
 who crowd the streets. He is also very weak about his 
 beard ; it is growing so rapidly that it threatens to conceal 
 his whole body, and to go beyond the skirts of his gar- 
 ments. All you can see in his face are a mouth, always 
 laughing, and two black eyes, always twinkling. But for 
 my constant gravity, he would ruin the de23utation ! 
 
 " Those who don't know him, as I do, are immensely 
 taken with him !" 
 
268 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To his Mother : — 
 
 Madras, 2Zrd December, 18G7. 
 
 " I have never forgotten this anniversary of the first break 
 in our family.* It was a terrible time, but has passed 
 away as such long ago, its memory associated with that of 
 a saint in heaven, and many spiritual blessings to those 
 who partook of the sorrow, and to myself especially. I 
 have full faith that all my dear ones above sympathize 
 with my work here." 
 
 To Mrs. Maci.eod : — 
 
 Eakgalore, Last Sunday o/1867. 
 
 " I have had a peaceful hour for devotion ; and who 
 but God can interpret my thoughts as on this day I recall 
 all the way He has led me during those many years — thirty 
 Df Avhich have been passed in the ministry — all ending in 
 India, with the greatest and noblest work ever given me to 
 do, a-doing ! The whole review, mth all its sin, its dark- 
 ness, selfishness, vanity, the best hours how bad ! and with 
 all I have been, and have done, and have left undone, and 
 all I am, Avith all the blessed God has been, and done, and 
 is, and ever will be to me — all this finds expression in 
 falling at the feet of my Father in adoration, wonder, and 
 praise ; seeing the glory of salvation by grace, of justifica- 
 tion through faith in my God, of the magnificent suitable- 
 ness to all my wants, to all Avhich ought to be towards 
 God, in Avhat was done by my Head, Jesus Christ, for me, 
 and what He is doing, and will perfect in me. I have had 
 great peace and joy in pouring out my heart for His grace 
 and guidance that our time and talents may be used for 
 Hi3 glory ; in confessing our sin as a missionary Church, 
 and praying that He Himself would build up our Sion, 
 and bless us by enabling us to take a part worthy of a 
 Christian Church in advancing His kingdom in this grand 
 but degraded land ; in praying for j'ou and all my darlings 
 by name, that they may not be merely well instructed, 
 polished heathen, but truly attached to God in faith and 
 love, which through the Spirit are in Christ Jesus ; and 
 
 * His brother James's death. 
 
INDIA. 269 
 
 that yon, my own self, maj'- he strong in faith and kept in 
 perfect jieace ; and for my beloved people, that they may 
 be ministered to by the Spirit this day and every day- 
 May the Lord reward you all — family and people — for 
 your love to me and prayers for me ! But to my Mission 
 work ! 
 
 "I wrote to you up to Friday, 27th. That was a busy 
 day! Eight a.m., till ten, visited Dr. Patterson's medical 
 mission and hospital ; eleven, a meeting til] one, with 
 about thirteen native pastors of all the Churches, in the 
 presence of the European missionaries. Rajahgopal and 
 others spoke as well as I could. We asked, and got, infor- 
 mation showing the great changes which have taken place 
 in the native mind in regard to persecuting C(mverts, &c. 
 At half-past five we had a magnificent meeting in the great 
 Memorial Hall, with the bishop in the chair. The Governor, 
 Commander-in-Chief, present, and all the elitQ of Madras. 
 I suggested the meeting, to tell on Madras and Home, and 
 to challenge contradiction on the spot to the statements 
 which each missionary gave of the history and condition 
 of his mission. I spoke, and so did Watson. The Bishop 
 is a most Christian man : his meekness makes him great. 
 At eight, conference in our Institution : dinner at nine. 
 Pretty hard day ! 
 
 "December 31. — The last day of the year! It is im- 
 possible to write, I am. weary of ' attentions ' — people at 
 breakfast, people at tiffin, people at dinner, people calling ; 
 then meetings, visiting of schools, &c., &c., so that I have 
 not one second to myself. It is now two, and not a 
 moment. 
 
 " We had about twelve yesterday here to breakfast — 
 Wesleyans — one of whom came out the same year as Duff. 
 We talked till one. Many of them did not seem acquainted 
 
 with any difficulties. said, ' I go to a village, sit 
 
 down, tell them they must live after death, and for ever 
 be in hell or heaven, and then tell them how to get out 
 of hell by Jesus Christ.' Calvinism, and Plymouthism, and 
 indifference, seem to divide the Europeans. There are 
 noble civilians, and bad ones ; fine, manly missionaries, and 
 weak ones. We require a broad, manly, earnest Christi- 
 
21 o LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 anity, and not formal orthodoxy, weak ' Evangelicalism,' 
 or sickly Plymoutliism. 
 
 " We drove through the Rettah, or native towTi, with its 
 crowded bazaars. The houses are low and the bazaars 
 poor ; yet many are very rich in it. Saw silk-weaving by 
 tlie native loom. Saw the best female school I think to 
 be found in India, taught by two truly noble women — 
 so clever and energetic, such genuine ladies — the i\Iisses 
 Anstey. They have money of their own ; their work is 
 one of true love. What teaching ! what influence ! what 
 power! The senior class of fifty girls; the junior, with 
 two hundred or more. I could not puzzle the senior class 
 on the Old Testament from Genesis to Samuel, nor on the 
 New in the Gospels and Acts. All are Canarese ; but my 
 questions were interpreted. They do not yet profess 
 Christianity, but never can these be idolaters ; and 
 whether they marry Christian husbands or heathen, they 
 must exercise a leavening influence. My heart and eyes 
 were full." 
 
 "January 1, 18C8, Bangalore. — This is my first greet- 
 ing for '68. Our plans are again changed, and instead of 
 bringing in the year in the railway we are spending it 
 calmly and quietly here. The fact is I took a disgust 
 yesterday at travelling and work of every kind. We had 
 intended to tour it very hard till Saturday, and to go over 
 some hundreds of miles to see either Seringapatam or 
 Tanjore. But because we had rested and did nothing 
 yesterday we began to feel weary and to realise how we 
 had been kept up by constant excitement, and that we 
 required perfect quiet. So after our things were packed 
 I took a fit of disgust at Idolatry, Missions, sight seeing 
 and everything, and saw but one paradise — rest — and so we 
 return to Madras, where we shall have little to do till we 
 sail on the 9^^ for Calcutta. I am glad we did so, as we 
 are enjoying this cool, or rather cold weather intensely, 
 and doing nothing. 
 
 " We returned last night at 8, and here I am writing 
 as well and hearty as ever I was in my life, actually en- 
 joying the weather, so that I bogged them at breakfast to 
 stop the punkah, as it was makihg me sneeze. In fact, I 
 
INDIA. 271 
 
 am getting too fond of India. Take care you get me home, 
 as they are spoiling me fast. Actually asked to a ball at 
 the Governor's ! ! " 
 
 Calcutta, Jan. IZrd, 1868. 
 " My only touch of illness since I left has been this 
 week. I had my old gout, which quite lamed me and com- 
 jjelled me to keej^ my bed since Tuesday, and so I missed a 
 state dinner at Government House, at which many were 
 invited to meet us. I was all right except the heel. 
 But you Ivnow my love for a day in bed. I had twelve 
 missionaries in conclave around me. Church Missionary, 
 London, Baptist, Free and Established. So I was honoured 
 while on my throne. One old missionary was the friend 
 of Carey and AVard. While I keep my leg up I am quite 
 well, and shall be as usual to-morrow. I never enjoyed 
 better health and spirits ; but must take it more calmly. 
 It is not away ! A public dinner is to be given us on 
 Friday week. We leave for Gyah on the 3rd. Like a 
 school-boy I say, ' The month after next I hope to leave 
 India for home ! ' " 
 
 Calcutta, ZXst January. 
 
 " One line to say we are Avell and hearty, very hard 
 wrought indeed, having had much care ; but all things 
 going on well, 
 
 " All parties strive to do us honour from the Governor 
 and Bishop down to the Fakir. I have much to say." 
 
 From the Friend of India, Jan. 23rd, 1868 ; — 
 
 *' The presence of Dr. Macleod has cheered many a 
 worker and helped to enlighten many a doubter. More 
 remarkable than his receptive powers, amounting to genius, 
 which enables him to appreciate the merits of abstruse 
 political questions ; more striking than his marvellous 
 conversational gifts ; more impressive than his public 
 speeches, have been his sermons. That is the perfection 
 of art without art. Of his three sermons in Calcutta two 
 were addressed to doubters, being devoted to a semi-pbilo- 
 
2-1 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 sophical exposition of onr Lord's Divinity and Atonement. 
 He spoke as a man to men, not as a priest to beings of a 
 lower order ; he reasoned, as one who had himself felt the 
 darkness, avowedly to help those who were still in the 
 gloom. Affectation seems as foreign to the character as it 
 is to the thought of this John Bright of the pulpit. The 
 lesson taught to j^reachers by the crowds of high and low 
 who flocked to hear him, was, as it seems to us, that truth 
 and honesty, guided by faith and unconsciousness of self, 
 and expressed in mnnl}'^ speech face to face, will restore to 
 the pulpit a far higher function than the Press has taken 
 from it." 
 
 His "work in India reached its climax as well as its 
 unexpected close in Calcutta. The reception there 
 accorded to the Deputies was peculiarly hearty ; but 
 the fatigue and mental excitement produced by 
 speeches, sermons, conferences, and addresses were 
 excessive ; and when, to mark the close of their three 
 weeks' labour in the capital, a public dinner was 
 given to them — the first which the Governor- General 
 ever honoured vritli his presence — Dr. Macleod made 
 a speech Mhi('h proved the last he was to deliver 
 in India. From Dr. Watson's account of the work 
 gone through on that single day, it is not wonderful 
 that, at midnight, he found himself prostrated with 
 illness. 
 
 " In the morning he drove from the suburbs, where 
 he was living, to a meeting in the city, where ho 
 spoke about half an hour. From that he went to the 
 General Assembly's Institution, and took an active 
 part in the examination which was held of the various 
 classes : this over, the advanced students of the Free 
 Church Institution assembled along with the students 
 
INDIA. 
 
 «73 
 
 who had just been examined ; and in that great hall, 
 which was full, and which accommodated about a 
 thousand persons, he delivered a vigorous and stirring 
 address, which lasted a full hour. When the pro- 
 ceedings came to a close, a large company were 
 entertained to lunch by Dr. Ogilvie at his house, and 
 then, of course, no one cared to hear anybody say a 
 word except the guest of the day. When he reached 
 home that afternoon, after a drive of five or six miles, 
 he was in a state of sheer exhaustion ; and though he 
 was most nervous about the evening, he tried to 
 snatch an hour of sleep ; for he wished to do perfect 
 justice to his work, and he felt that in one sense the 
 work of his mission was to terminate with the dinner, 
 which was arranged for eight o'clock that night, when 
 every phase of English life in India would be repre- 
 sented from the Viceroy downwards. 
 
 " He had spoken often of his desire to give expres- 
 sion on this occasion to some of his strong convictions 
 on the relation of India to England, or of English- 
 men to India ; and though he had had an opportunity 
 at a large meeting previously, presided over by the 
 Bishop of Calcutta, to speak on missionary affairs, he 
 felt that the last occasion when he was to open his 
 lips in public before he left Bengal, was one which 
 necessitated a wider range of subject than any eccle- 
 siastical topic, however interesting or important. His 
 reception in the evening was most hearty. He rose 
 with a heavy sense of what he was to say ; and, as 
 was often the case with him in his most earnest 
 moments, he started with a few unpremeditated 
 strokes of humour and homely words which touched 
 
 VOL. IL 1 
 
274 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 all hearts, and in a minute or two brought himself 
 into rapport with the audience and the audience with 
 him. 
 
 " Only on one occasion, when he delivered his last 
 memorable speech in the General Assembly, a few 
 weeks before his death, have I seen him so agitated 
 and, to use a common expression, ' weighted ' as he was 
 then; and it was with a deep sense of relief that, 
 towards midnight, he stretched out his feet and 
 smoked his cigar before going to bed, having received 
 the assurance, from those he relied on, that all his 
 anxiety and care in regard to that last appearance in 
 public in India had not been thrown away." 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 CALCtTTTA, *lth Fehruary. 
 
 " On comparing this date with that on telegram you 
 will be surprised at my being here, especially if you have 
 read the Friend of India and learn that I have been 
 ' prostrated by fatigue ' you will be in delightful anxiety, 
 and my mother will have food for alarm until I return 
 home. 
 
 " Just after the telegram was off I was threatened with 
 dysentery. So the doctors gave me forty grains of ipecacu- 
 anha in two doses in a few hours. This was on Wednesday. 
 I at once said Amen, lay in bed, obeyed orders, and slept all 
 day, read newspapers, &c., when awake, saw no one, and 
 thoroughly enjoyed the blessed rest. The complaint was 
 checked yesterday, and between the perfect rest and 
 medicines I feel gout all gone, and except the weakness 
 of being in bed, nearly perfectly well, very jolly and not 
 the least dowie, though very thankful indeed that I am so 
 well. To show you how sensible and good I am, I have 
 allowed AVatson go oif alone to Gyah, the only really 
 rough and rude drive on our route, and I remain here 
 doing nothing, seeing nobody, in the full rollicking enjoy- 
 ment of idleness, till Tuesday or Wednesday, I am even 
 
INDIA. 27s 
 
 now able to join him, but I take four days' holiday, though 
 my not going to Gyah is a terrible loss and self-denial. 
 This will prove to you what I always told you, that I would 
 return direct home, if necessary, the moment any doctor 
 said or believed I should do so. Are you satisfied ? Don't 
 you feel I am telling you the whole truth ? Look at me ! 
 Don't I look honest ? 
 
 " The fact is the back of the work is broken ! It is, I 
 may say, done, and well done, and all to come is plain sail- 
 ing, so that if I did not go to Sealkote at all (but only 
 went by rail to Delhi to see sights), I should feel a work 
 was already accomplished far beyond my most sanguine 
 expectations. It was not the work only, but the excite- 
 ment that put me wrong. I never preached to such con- 
 gregations. The admission was by ticket, and stairs and 
 lobbies were crammed, and many went away. 
 
 " The Mission Meeting was a great event. Such was 
 never before held in Calcutta, called by the Bishop, and 
 attended by all denominations, and such an audience to 
 welcome us. 
 
 " Then came on Saturday an evening meeting as great 
 on City Missions. I was taken all aback. But it was a great 
 success, and they tell me I have re-established an agency 
 which was declining. The public dinner made me ashamed 
 of having so much honour paid us, though it was given 
 to us as deputies. The Viceroy had never gone to a public 
 dinner in Calcutta, and to see such guests meet to do us 
 honour and bid us farewell ! It passed off splendidly ! 
 
 " We have had many deeply interesting private meetings 
 with missionaries — Zenana included, which I cannot dwell 
 on ; but one meeting I must mention. I addressed the lads 
 attending our Institution, and at my request all the lads 
 of the Free Church Institution, who understood English, 
 came to hear me, and all the missionaries, as well as many 
 of the ladies. They have met me with unbounded confidence. 
 They are a nice lot of fellows. In one word, God has 
 helped us, and helped us in a way that quite amazes and 
 overpowers me. May He give me grace never to pervert 
 those great tokens of His mercy to personal sectarian 
 objects. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " The Bishop has been very kind, and Sir Jolm Law- 
 rence 1ms acted like a brother to me \ in fact, all have 
 contrived how to please and oblige us." 
 
 Calctjtta, Saturday, February 9. 
 
 " Since writing to yon yesterday, what a change has taken 
 place in all ray plans ! I intend leaving this for home on 
 March 3, so that as you are reading this I am on the 
 ocean going home. Are you not glad and thankful ? I, 
 on the whole, am. It happened thus : last night Dr. 
 Charles said, ' if you had asked me, I should have forbid 
 your going to Sealkote.' ' Hallo ! ' I said ; ' asked you ? ' 
 ' Take my word I shall ask you, and that most seriously, 
 and no mistake.' So I insisted that he, Dr. Farquhar, my 
 old friend, and Dr. Fayrer, Professor of Surgery, should meet 
 here to-day, and give an official opinion. They have done 
 so.* They don't object to my going along the railway as far 
 as Delhi, especially as the climate is better there than here, 
 but object to dak travelling, — i.e. going in a cab and two 
 horses as far as from Glasgow to London and back ! — in my 
 present state ; and they object to my being later than the 
 first week of March, as the climate might from present 
 symptoms prove dangerous. I feel thoroughly well to-day, 
 except weakish from so nuich medicine. I am quite lame 
 again in the heel ; but they laugh at that. Thank God 
 the real work is done and well done ! Had this come on 
 one day sooner ! As it is, I am full of gratitude for all 
 that has been done, and bow my head for what I cannot 
 accomplish. Dear Watson is thoroughly able to do it as 
 well as I am, and since he is so well he will enjoy it as I 
 would have done. Amen ! Verily God's plans are not ours." 
 
 After a brief tour to Benares, Allahabad, Ca-svn- 
 pore, Lucknow, Agra, and Delhi, he sailed from 
 Calcutta on the 25th February. Owing to the kind- 
 ness of Sir John Lawrence, his voyage to Egypt was 
 
 * Soo Appendix B. 
 
INDIA, 277 
 
 made peculiarly liappy and comfortable. Lady 
 Lawrence was returning to England with her daugh- 
 ter, and was to sail as far as Suez in the Ferose^ an 
 old man-of-war, then used for the service of the 
 Governor-General, and Sir John, with a friendliness 
 which was heartily appreciated, asked him, as a 
 guest, to share the ease which the roomy accom- 
 modation of the yacht afforded. The perfect rest and 
 comfort he thus enjoyed proved most helpful to his 
 recovery. 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 " I parted with William Craik, whose kindness, constant, 
 considerate, unwearying, was that of a brother more than 
 a friend. I cannot tell you all he and his wife were to me. 
 The Governor-General came down to the Feroze in his tuff. 
 and talked with me for about two hours in the frankest 
 manner, giving me an immense number of most interesting 
 facts about his life and government in the Punjaub, the 
 mutiny, Delhi, &c. I was greatly touched by his goodness, 
 and I loved him the more when I saw him weeping as he 
 parted for one year only from his wife and daughter. I 
 cannot tell you what kindness I have received. Sir William 
 Muir came on Monday morning, to see me ; and Sir R. 
 Temple came the night before I left, drove about with me, 
 dined at Craik's alone with us, aU the while ffivingf me 
 volumes of information." 
 
 The only adventure which occurred on his voyage 
 to Suez was a harmless shipwreck some twenty miles 
 from port, caused by the Feroze running on a sand- 
 bank, and having no worse consequences than the 
 delay of waiting till a passing steamer took off the 
 passengers. He was met by Mrs. Macleod at Alex- 
 
278 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 andria, and they came home by Malta, Sicily, N^aples, 
 Rome, Civita Vecchia, and Marseilles. In spite of 
 some benefit derived from the voyage, his strength 
 was visibly broken, and his limbs betrayed increased 
 liability to gout, accompanied by ever-recurring 
 attacks of acute pain, which he called neuralgia, 
 but which were really due to a more serious derange- 
 ment of the system. 
 
 To Eev. Dr. Watson :^ 
 
 Fvhrunry, 1863. 
 
 " We got on board the steamer — an old, broad-decked, 
 strong-built, and high-masted man-of-war, with a huge 
 steam-engine, and able to go Avhen we started six miles an 
 hour. India soon vanished into a few palm-trees rising 
 out of the water in the horizon ; and as I thought of all 
 we had seen and done, and not seen and left undone, it 
 appeared a strange dream, and I could not say whether 
 shame and confusion of face for my wretched work, or 
 great thanksgiving to God for His tender mercy, were 
 most in my mind. Perha})s both alternated. Anyhow, I 
 thanked God with all my heart for His having given you 
 as my companion, for all you were to me, for His giving 
 you the honour of completing the work, and for the 
 happy, happy hours we had together, unbroken by a 
 sinw-le shadow to darken our sunshine. 
 
 " . . . . We have had a summer sea every day since 
 we left. Some days a glorious breeze, and all sail set ; 
 other days very hot. I have never felt vigorous on board, 
 and fear, unless it is this hot damp climate, that I am in 
 for gout and sciatica for life, and that I never shall be tit 
 for as much work as before. But we shall see. I have 
 prayers and exposition every day, and find it pleasant. 
 Sunday services as usual. Had a capital day with tho 
 sailors last Sunday." 
 
INDIA. fjq 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 " Sunday, March 8th. — A glorious day. I have preached 
 on the quarter-deck, and at four I met all the sailors in 
 the forecastle, and read to them * The Old Lieutenant ' for 
 an liour and twenty minutes to their great delight. The 
 sun is nearly set ; it goes down like a shot about six, 
 and no twilight. The sea is blue as indigo, and the white 
 crisp curling waves add to its beauty. Two white birds, 
 ' boatswains,' as Jack told me, ' with their tails as marling 
 spikes,' are floating in the blue, hundreds of miles from 
 land ; thousands of flying-fish skim the water like swallows, 
 each flying about sixty yards or so. All the sailors are in 
 their Sunday best ; the Lascars dressed in white with red 
 caps on, squatted in a circle mending their clothes. The half- 
 naked coolies and firemen lounging and sleeping, or eating 
 curry and rice, making it up with their fingers into balls 
 and chucking it into their mouths. Old Pervo, the steward, 
 dressed in pure white calico and turban, is snoring on his 
 back on a carpet spread near the funnel ; and I in my hot 
 cabin writing to those I love, and wondering if I am indeed 
 to have the joy of seeing them again, blessing God for the 
 health and perfect peace He is giving me, and in heart try 
 ing so to adjust the difference of Longitude (71°) as to 
 follow the Sunday services of my beloved people. Such 
 is our Sunday at sea outwardly. 
 
 " Ceylon. — The foliage ! The glorious foliage ! Every 
 kind of tree, palm and chestnut ; bread-fruit tree, with its 
 large furrowed glittering leaves — with the huge dark 
 fruit hanging by strings from the bark ; the graceful 
 bamboo, whose yellow branches remind one of old- 
 fashioned beds and chairs or sticks ; the plantain, with 
 its large green leaves ; down to the sensitive plant which 
 creeps along the ditches, while beautifully coloured flowers 
 and creepers colour the woods. I missed the flocks of 
 paroquets and bright-coloured birds one sees in North 
 India, but the woods resound with the jungle fowl, and 
 birds with sweet notes. Sunrise from St. Nicolas tower was 
 glorious. The sun rose like a ball of fire out of the sea to 
 the right, and his horizontal rays, shooting across the 
 island, separated the many ranges of low hills, and brought 
 
aSo LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 out tliG higlier hills to the north, up to Adam's Peak fifty 
 miles off. All those hills are covered with forests of palmr 
 and every splendid tree. A light mist lay between eacl 
 ridge, and a sleepy radiance of wondrous beauty over alL 
 The smoke of comfortable cottages, which nestle in the 
 woods, rose here and there in white wreaths, giving a sense 
 of comfort and of home to the scene.'* 
 
CHAPTEE XXL 
 
 1868. 
 
 HIS reception by the General Assembly, wben lie 
 first entered it on his return from India, deeply 
 touched him ; the whole house greeted him with an 
 enthusiastic outburst of welcome, which took him by 
 surprise. On the afternoon of the same day he de- 
 livered, from a few notes, an address occupying two 
 hours, in which he stated the chief results arrived 
 at by the Deputation. The substance of this speech 
 was carefully prepared for the Press during a period 
 of leisure enforced on him by his medical adviser, 
 and which was spent in the Highlands.* 
 
 Froin his Joubnai : — 
 
 " June ord, Cuilchenna. — On my fifty-seventh birthday 
 (entering my fifty-seventh birthday), and at Cuilchenna 
 once more. I am silent. This is the first personal and 
 private journal I have Avritten since my last on the pre- 
 vious page, the night before I left for India. What 
 months these have been to me ! Is it all a dream — the 
 voyage out with Watson and Lang, and the friendly pas- 
 sengers, Bombay and Poonah, and Colgaum and Karli, 
 
 * Those portions of his address which touch on the general ques- 
 tion of missions are given in the Appendix B, to which the reader is 
 referred for the results of his inquiries in India. 
 
282 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 the voyage to Calicut, Madras, Bangalore, Vellore, Cou- 
 jeveram, Calcutta, Patiia, Allahabad, Benares, Cawnpore, 
 Luckuow, Agra, Delhi, the Feroze ? 
 
 " Then the remembrance of that meeting -with my wife 
 at Alexandria, and the good Cunlities, and Cairo and its 
 Oriental glories ; the voyage to Malta, and St. Paul's Bay ; 
 then Sicily, Syracuse, Catania, railway to Messina, boat to 
 Palermo, and the drive to Monreale ; then the horrible 
 Carybdie steamer to Naples ; Naples and Madame Meuri- 
 cotfer, and the Watsons, and Dr. Pincoffs, and Amalfi ; 
 Puteoli, Baia3, and Rome ! with Strahan and Signer Garo- 
 faliiii, and all the glories. Home by Civita Vecchia, Mar- 
 seilles, Paris. God be praised — God be praised I What 
 a time of joy and blessing ! 
 
 " That night I returned was indescribable — so unreal, 
 and yet so real. Never was there to me so dreamlike a 
 thing as Avhen dear friends, deacons, elders, and members 
 of my church and working people met me at the railway, 
 and shook me by the hand. Spectres could not have been 
 more unreal. It seemed as if it could not be they, and 
 that I was not myself, and home again. India seemed to 
 follow me up till that moment, and Scotland did not seem 
 real. The present was not as the past ; and then the ever 
 memorable supper in my own house, with my mother and 
 aunts, and sisters and brothers, and children. What ! was 
 I at home ? Was I alive ? Had I returned ? Perhaps the 
 feeling of never returning to which I clung, somehow, as 
 necessary for my peace, made the return the more strange 
 and incomprehensible. I cannot describe the feeling. It 
 was not excitement, but calm, dumb, dream-like wonder ! 
 
 " And liere I am, with a full moon shining over Glencoe, 
 and all as still as the desert — health restored, and all 
 spared ! 
 
 " Oh my dear Father ! how I thank and bless Thee, 
 and record Thy goodness. But it is the old story of 
 Love! T. O. A. 
 
 " I wish also to record the marvellous manner in which 
 my people behaved in my absence. Everything went on 
 better than before ! Few things have helped more to bring 
 about an answer to many a prayer, that I might be eual)led 
 
i868. 
 
 283 
 
 to love my people with something of that yearning-, motherly 
 feeling, as if to one's own children, which St. Paul had in 
 such glorious perfection. I feel this strengthening of the 
 chords between us as a great gift from God. Our separation 
 has done us both good !" 
 
 To Miss Scott Moncreiff : — • 
 
 " Many, many thanks for your chit (I have lost my 
 native language). I have so much to say to you and to 
 3^our Indian staff, that I must be silent till we meet. I 
 have verily had a memorable time of it. God has blessed 
 
 us and our work. I have been wounded in the grand 
 
 o 
 
 campaign, and the doctors say that I must go to hospital 
 for months to come, and that, to prevent evil, I must 
 be idle, as my brain cannoL siand consiani demands on 
 it. At fifty-seven I am not what I was, but I may do 
 work yet if I get rest. It was wild work in India ! Do 
 you remember the Sunday controversy, and how I was an 
 outcast from all good society ? Fancy me last night, 
 chairman by request at a Free Kirk missionary meeting, 
 in a Free Kirk, with a Free Kirk lecturer, and only Free 
 Kirk ministers aronrul nie. and receiving Free Kirk 
 thanks ! I may live to oe a J^'ree Kirk: Moderator tiil 
 the next time I am caiieu to btand aione, and then — woe's 
 me!" 
 
 To A. Strahan", Esq. : — 
 
 " Ideny the canon of 
 criticism by which reli- 
 gious novels are con- 
 demned. It would ex- 
 clude even Christ's 
 teaching by parables, 
 and would for ever pre- 
 clude me or any minis- 
 ter from writinsr stories. 
 ' I Stan' on the head o' 
 my fish an' wull main- 
 tain the flukes are fresh 
 and gude/ as a Newhaven fish-wife said to mo." 
 
 An Editor full 01 matter. 
 
a84 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To his Mother, on his Birthday : — 
 
 June 3rd. 
 " I am quite safe in saying that I have written to you, 
 say forty letters, on my birthday ; and whatever was defec- 
 tive as to number in my letters was made up by your 
 love. Now I begin to think the whole affair is getting 
 stale to you. In short, you anticipate all I can say, 
 am likely to say, or ought to say ; and having done 
 so, you begin to read and to laugh and cry time about, 
 and to praise me to all my unfortunate brothers and 
 sisters, until they detest me till June 4th. Don't you 
 feel grateful I was born ? Are you not thankful ? I 
 know you are, and no wonder. I negd not enumerate all 
 those well-known personal and domestic virtues which 
 have often called forth your praises, except when you are 
 beaten at backgammon. But there is another side of the 
 question with which I have to do, and that is, whether I 
 ought to be so very grateful to you for the event with 
 which June 3rd, 1812, is associated. As I advance in 
 life, this question becomes more interesting to me ; and 
 it seems due to the interests of truth and justice to state 
 on this day, when I have had fifty-six years' experience 
 of life in its most varied forms, that I am by no means 
 satisfied with your conduct on that occasion, and that if 
 you fairly consider it, I feel assured you will justify me 
 in demanding from you the only reparation possible — an 
 ample apology, and a solemn promise never to do the like 
 again ! You must acknowledge that you took a very great 
 liberty with a man of my character and position, not to 
 ask me whether I was disposed to enter upon a new and 
 important state of existence ; whether I should prefer 
 winter or summer to begin the trial ; or whether I should 
 be a Scotchman, Irishman, or Englishman ; or even 
 whether I should be ' man or woman born ;' each of 
 these alto^rnatives involving to me most important con- 
 sequences. What a good John Bull I Avould have 
 made ! what a rattling, roaring Irishman ! what a capital 
 mother or wife ! what a jolly abbess ! But you doomed 
 me to be born in a tenth-rate provincial town, half 
 Scotch, half Highland, and sealed my doom as to sex and 
 
i8b8. 285 
 
 country. Was that fair ? Would you like me to have 
 done that to you ? Suppose through my fault you had 
 been born a wild Spanish papist, what would you have said 
 on your fifty-seventh birthday, with all your Protestant con- 
 victions ? Not one Maxwell or Duntroon related to you ! 
 you yourself a nun called St. Agnese ! — and all, forsooth, 
 because I had willed that you should be born at Toledo 
 on June 3rd, 1812! Think of it, mother, seriously, and 
 say, have you done to me as you would have had me do 
 to you ? 
 
 " Then again, pray who is to blame for all I have suf- 
 fered for fifty-six years ? Who but you ? This reply alone 
 can be made to a thousand questions which press them- 
 selves on my memory, until the past seems a history of 
 misery endured with angelic patience. Why, I might ask, 
 for example, did I live for weeks on insipid ' lythings,' 
 spending days and nights screaming, weeping, hiccoughing, 
 with an old woman SAvathing and unswathing me, whose 
 nature retires from such attentions ? Why had I for years 
 to learn to walk and speak, and amuse 
 aunts and friends like a young parish y^'i^^ 
 fool, and wear frocks — fancy me in a / Ni^*^ 
 frock now, addressing the Assembly ! 
 and yet I had to wear them for years ! Wliy have I 
 suffered from mumps, hooping-cough, measles, scarlet fever, 
 toothache, headache, lumbago, gout, sciatica, sore back, 
 sore legs, sore sides, and other ailments ; having probably 
 sneezed several thousand times, and coughed as often since 
 christened ? Why ? Because I was born ! because you, 
 and none but you, insisted I should be 
 born ! Why have I had to be tossed 
 about on every sea and ocean, and 
 kept in perpetual danger from icebergs, 
 fogs, storms, shipwrecks ? You did it ! 
 Why have I had my mind distracted, 
 my brain worn, my heart broken, my 
 nerves torn, my frame exhausted, my life 
 tortured with preachings and prepara- 
 tions, speeches, lectures, motions, resolu- 
 tions, programmes ; with sessions, presbyteries, and assem- 
 
28( 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Ijli'^s ; with all Cliiirclics, bond and free ; with all countries 
 from west to east, with good words and bad words; with 
 Sunday questions and week-day questions ; with all sorts of 
 people, from Trembling Jock to the Queen ; with friends 
 and relations, Jews and Greeks, bond and free ? Why all 
 this, and a thousand times more, if not simply and solely 
 because, forsooth, of your conduct on June 3rd, 1812 ? 
 No wonder it is a solemn and sad day to you ! No wonder 
 you sigh, and — unless all good is out of you — weep, too. 
 I was told my poor father, on the day I was born, hid 
 himself in a hayrick from sheer anxiety. He had some idea 
 of what was doing. But, dear soul ! he always gave in to 
 you, and it was in vain for either of us to speak. I am 
 told I yelled very loud — I hope I did — I could do no 
 more then ; and I can do little more now than protest, as 
 I do, against the whole arrangement. 
 
 " An American expressed to a friend of mine a great 
 desire to visit Siam, as he understood its people were all 
 twins ! The thought makes me tremble. What if I had 
 been born like the Siamese twins ! Think of my twin 
 brother and myself going as a deputy to India : in the 
 same berth, speaking together at the same meeting, sick 
 toGfether at sea, or both sufferinGf from o^out, and vou 
 concerned and anxious about your j)oor dear boys ! What, 
 
 supposing my twin had married 
 
 Mrs. ? 
 
 " j\Iother dear, repent ! 
 " One good quality remains : I 
 can forgive, and I do forgive you 
 this day, in pledge of which I 
 scud you my love, big as my body, 
 yea without limit, as large a kiss 
 as my beard and moustache will 
 pern lit. 
 
 " This is a glorious Highland 
 day ! What deUcious air ! It 
 blows and rains, and is as bitterly 
 cold as the most ardent Celt could 
 desire. 
 " The amusing prattle of eight children in the house, 
 
i868. 287 
 
 craving for excitement, with nothing to do, is truly sooth- 
 ing, and acts as balm to my nervous system. The sail 
 yesterday was charming, and the canal boat with a crammed 
 cabin and heavy rain, was too delightful for a gouty 
 world. 
 
 " Glencoe, if you could see it through this thick rain, is 
 grand, and the rattling of the windows from the wind quite 
 musical. I am trying to cure my gout by walking in wet 
 grass, so keep your mind easy ' " 
 
 To A. Steahan, Esq. : — 
 
 Friday, 
 
 " I send, for yourself only, the enclosed hints from 
 
 . Now you laiow the real iove that he has to 
 
 us personally, and to G. W. I therefore value such 
 hints, though I confess that I do not know to what he 
 alludes. But to guard against the possibility of a single 
 expression being printed by us which the weakest Chris- 
 tian could be pained by, I beseech you to let me see every 
 MS. or proof before being printed off. I, as a minister, 
 am more conversant than you can be with religious topics 
 and the pulse of the religious world. Besides, as you also 
 know, my chief delight in Good Words is its power of 
 doing good. God knows this is more precious to me than 
 all the gold and silver on earth could be." 
 
 To Miss Scott Monceeiff : — 
 
 " The past and the future seem to me to become every 
 day more vivid, while the more immediate point is more 
 confused and vanishing. The old home in Dalkeith Park 
 is never empty, but always full to me with people who are 
 always happy, and can never die. So are other houses of 
 my friends. Thank God for memory and for hope ! When 
 these earthly houses are discovered by us at last to be 
 empty, and all our thoughts about them dreams, then at 
 the same moment we shall also discover that another home 
 is inhabited by the same dear friends, and that our dreams 
 cease only when we have awoke to and met with realities. 
 My dear Norman has left us this morning to begin com- 
 
2 88 LIFE OF NORMA N MA CLEOD. 
 
 mercial life in Liverpool. He, and two of his sisters, 
 joined us on Tuesday at our winter communion, but as I 
 entered his bed-room after he was gone it was very dream- 
 like — * lu deaths oft.' " 
 
 From his JouilNAL : — 
 
 "Sunday, July 19. — What are called innocent enjoy- 
 ments, with much which makes up and adds to the happi- 
 ness of life — poetry, painting, smiles, and laughter, the 
 saUies of playful wit, or the quiet chuckle, the delightful 
 emotions — half smiles, half tears, — created by humour, the 
 family fun in summer evenings in the open air — all that 
 kind of life which we enjoy and remember with such enjoy- 
 ment (albeit mingled with sadness, not for what it was, but 
 because it is not) — why is this not nssociated in our minds 
 with saintship and holiness ? Is it because those who are 
 not holy possess it all ? Yet this would only prove the libe- 
 rality of God, and not the sinfulness of man — or any incon- 
 sistency in saints partaking of it. Is it that such happiness 
 is sin? This cannot be. It would be a libel on all our instincts 
 and feelings and the whole round of life as appointed by 
 God. Is it that we have formed wrong ideas of saintship, 
 and created, as in mediseval art, such notions as would make 
 saintship impossible, or utterly outre and grotesque in the 
 Exchange, or behind the counter, or on a Railway Board, 
 or committee of Parliament ? Yet it is in such places we 
 need saints most. Or is it that we make such men as the 
 apostles examples of what all men should be, and thence 
 conclude that if so, the life I have alluded to must be 
 wrong, earthly, and unworthy of men, as it could not be 
 theirs ? But, again, I look at the flowers Christ has made, 
 and listen to His singing birds, whose bills, and throats, and 
 instincts He has made, and con over all the gay and beauti- 
 ful ' trifles ' He has attended to as the Maker of the 
 world, and which He called very good, and in which He 
 has pleasure, and so the ' methodistical ' view of life does 
 not hold. But may not a life in harmony with this, in 
 which the small flowers, and the small singing birds, and 
 the perfumes, and the lights and shadows and sparkling 
 
i868. 28g 
 
 waves, sTiall hold their own with the greo,t mountains and 
 mighty oceans, and intellectual and moral harmonies among 
 God's great beings, be the normal state of things, and be 
 reproduced in the new heavens and the new earth ? The 
 sorrows and sadness of Christ and of men like St. Paul would 
 thus be abnormal, conditioned by the evil of sin. They 
 would be as the sadness of a family because of a death 
 and burial, but which was not their natural condition. The 
 Avorld's greatest men, in God's sense, God's own elect ones, 
 the kings and princes of humanity, are thus necessarily 
 the greatest sufferers. It is given them to * suffer with 
 Christ' as the highest honour, for it is the honour and 
 glory of seeing things as they are in the true and eternal 
 light which no mere man can see and live. But such 
 men must die and be buried in the grave of sorrow, 
 crucified by the world's sin, 
 
 " Yet let this occasion of sorrow be taken away, and why 
 might not a St. Paul be a child again, and chase butterflies, 
 gather flowers, and shout with joy among the heather ? It 
 is a great gift to be able to be happy at all, and see, how- 
 ever dimly, into life and death. Those who imitate these 
 holy men only in their sadness and sorrow, practise a vain 
 guise, like a mask, and fancy the signs of grief or grief 
 itself to be a virtue, and not a misfortune, and glorious 
 only as a sign of an inner love — the light which casts 
 the shadow. Those who seek happiness for its own sake 
 and call it innocent, and think it lawful without the 
 eternal good, are vain as larks who would live only for 
 singing, and silly as flowers who see nothing in creation 
 but their own colours, and perceive nothing but their own 
 perfume. 
 
 " A mountain once rebuked a rivulet for always foaming 
 and making a noise. The rivulet replied that the ocean 
 often did the same. 'Yes,' said the mountain, 'but the 
 ocean has its depths and calms : you have neither.' " 
 
 VOL. IL 
 
290 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " SUBJECTS FOR SONNETS SUGGESTED IN MY WALK. 
 
 " Gailchenna, July 21. — The scenes of peace and beauty 
 in Nature, resulting from the great cataclysms of the past ; 
 paralleled by the peace in the world and in the soul 
 from the anguish of suffering. 
 
 2. 
 
 "The force of gravitation overcoming the storm and 
 waves in carrying tiny bubbles out into the ebb tide ; 
 paralleled by the power of faith in the unseen, in those 
 otherwise weak, as a power striving against and con- 
 quering apparently irresistible opposition. 
 
 3. 
 
 " The light, reflected by clouds, climbing a mountain side, 
 illustrative of a pure mind rising over mighty heights of 
 thought, and revealing their beauties." 
 
 " I see a field, one half is tilled 
 
 And may give something to the baker ; 
 "With weeds the other half is filled, 
 Not worth a halfpenny per acre. 
 
 •* I won't admit that field is good 
 
 Because some good things grow within it- 
 I say 'tis bad for human food. 
 
 And getting worse, too, every minute. 
 
 •' The owner of it is so lazy, 
 
 Yet most contented and pretentious, 
 His sense of duty very hazy, 
 And yet so very conscientious. 
 
 " He says ' he likes ' one half to till. 
 
 He ' likes ' what gives him little trouble, 
 He likes to follow his owr will, 
 
 He likes in short to quirk and quibble. 
 
 " And now as I have told my mind 
 
 About one-sided plough and harrow. 
 The lesson is, — I never find 
 
 Men very good and very narrow. 
 
i868. 291 
 
 *• One half theii- Inzj' minds they till, 
 The other half is always weedy ; 
 They worship idols do their will, 
 Are often wicked — always seedy ! 
 
 To the Eev. Dr. Watson : — 
 
 CrrrLCHENNA. 
 
 " It is very difficult for me to write at present, as a 
 nervous headache sets in always in half an hour, so that 
 it is impossible to v/rite. It goes off ten minutes after 
 I stop, so that I can get on by fits and starts only. 
 
 " You must come soon again. I am wearying to have 
 a talk in Sanscrit. 
 
 " ' He who talketh Sanscrit talketh like a man, but he 
 who talketh never (like me) is dumb.' — Hindoo Proverb. 
 
 " ' He who is choked can never be hanged.' — Hindoo 
 Proverb. 
 
 " ' Heartburnings cause sourness, and sourness is never 
 sweet.' — A Scotticism. 
 
 *' My head gets so sore when I try to write.'* 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 "If we could only get half-a-dozen truly able and 
 enlightened Christian native preachers, they would soon 
 settle a creed for themselves. When we get freedom at home 
 as to the subscription of articles, we shall be better able 
 to work freely in India. The chief difficulty in the way 
 of advancing Christianity in India is, unquestionably, that 
 almost all the missionaries represent a narrow, one-sided 
 Christianity." 
 
 To Mrs. MiCLEOD : — 
 
 Glasgow, Wednesday. 
 
 " I think this fit of sciatica is past. I had a queer 
 night of it, between pain and sleeplessness. 
 
 " I employed part of my idle time after midnight in 
 arranging the drawing-room. You would have laughed at 
 me, as I did. But I could find no rest with that horrid 
 neuralgia. It is gone to-day." 
 
 u 2 
 
292 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Friday. 
 
 " I got sleep from seven to ten this morning, and I 
 feel better than I have done for weeks. In short, after 
 this I shall have a lease of good health. 
 
 " Kiss Cuilchenna for me. 
 
 " In the meantime, * Good-night ! ' " 
 
 ^^&^ 
 
 To Mr. Simpson, of Messrs. Blackwood & Sons, Publisliers : — 
 
 Cuilchenna, August 24. 
 
 " I send you the last and concluding pages of my MS. 
 The fact seems to me incredible, but it is true. I breathe 
 more freely. My soul could transmigrate into 8vo., and 
 lie for ages in a minister's library, unread and uncut like 
 his own volume of sermons. OjDen the parcel, gently and 
 reverently ; ' there is a spirit in the leaves,' but one which 
 your devils alone can comprehend. By the way, it may 
 strike you that I say nothing against the devil-worship, 
 so common among the aborigines of India. The fact is 
 that I respect it more than any other form of heathenism. 
 Its origin is Hterary. I have no doubt whatever that the 
 original printers of the Yedas had some shocking MS. of 
 Ram, or Krishnu, or Dasaratha, or Ikshwaku, or Yishnu, 
 to print, and they manifested such genius in deciphering 
 it, such patience in printing it, such meekness in correct- 
 ing it, that they became objects of worship. The ' Devil 
 Dance' evidently originated in the joy Avitnesrcd among 
 the printers when the MS. of the Ramayana or Mahabharat 
 was finally printed. I respect therefore all these types of 
 the devils who lived in the days of Noah. They may 
 have been the ' regular bricks ' of Babylon, with their 
 printed sides. 
 
 " The great Sanscrit scholar, Dr. ^luir, must know all 
 about it. Was the corrector of the press originally the 
 corrector of morals ? " 
 
i868. Z93 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 " I should like to see final proof of that address 
 
 " ' To fight the battle of Waterloo,' remarked the 
 Duke, with whom I humbly but firmly compare myself, 
 ' was nothing. But to reply to letters, criticisms, &c., 
 upon it, that was the work of real pain and difficulty.' 
 
 " The Duke, I feel, was right ; but what was his work 
 to mine ? 
 
 " He got Water loo* I'll get water hot." 
 
 From his Jouenal : — 
 
 " Cuilchenna, Sept. 1. — This day ends my rest since I 
 returned from India. I cannot tell what these months 
 have been to me of quiet repose, of health almost restored, 
 of blessed family life. 
 
 " I have not been idle, in the sense of doing nothing 
 but amusing myself. I have hardly been a Sunday with- 
 out preaching somewhere ; once on the green, four times 
 at Ballachulish, twice at Kilmallie, and once at Fort 
 William. Above all I began and finished here my 
 ' Address on Missions,' which has occupied more of my 
 thoughts, and given me more trouble than anything I ever 
 did. I have also written a chapter on ' Peeps at the Far 
 East,' and a preface on the * Characteristics of Highland 
 Scenery,' for a Book of Photographs illustrative of the 
 Queen's book, with some songs, and letters innumerable, 
 besides preaching twice at home and attending all the 
 meetings of the India Mission Committee. 
 
 " And then we had our evening readings from Shake- 
 spear, or some other worthy book, and delightful croquet, 
 and such evenings at fishing ! never to be forgotten for their 
 surpassing glory ; and two happy visits from dear Watson, 
 one of them with Clark of Gyah. It has been a heavenly 
 time, for which with heart, soul, and strength I thank 
 God. 
 
 " India, how dreamlike ! " 
 
 * Avglice, lukewarm. 
 
2 94 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " "VVe need not build memorial cairns, 
 Ah no, my wife, I cannot do it ; 
 For should wo do so with the bairns, 
 Some day, my love, we're suie to rue it. 
 
 •' If each dear hand lays down the stone 
 ■\Vith love to all around to guide it, 
 Oh, who of us could come alone 
 In after years, and stand beside it ? 
 
 " There's not a spot around this place, 
 
 There's not a mountain, glen, or river. 
 But shall recall each dear one's face, 
 And memories that perish never. 
 
 " On every hill-top wo might raise 
 
 A ' holy rood,' though I would rather 
 We gave upon it daily praise 
 
 To Him who is indeed our Father. 
 
 " This time of joy in this dear place, 
 
 This Sabbath rest — to Him we owe it, 
 And not the least gift of His grace 
 
 That both of us have learned to know it." 
 
 " A word alioiit politics. As to the Irish EstabHsh- 
 ment, I am ou this point out and out for Gladstone. A 
 nation must choose its owti Church, and for all such 
 practical purposes Ireland is as much an individuality as 
 India. No idea can be right "vvhich practically is so offen- 
 sive to common sense and to jcdr 'play as the Irish Esta- 
 blishment. Had the rest of Britain been lloman Catholic, 
 how should Ave Presbyterians have liked the Estabhsh- 
 ment of a Roman Catholic Church in Scotland, with 
 two millions of Presbyterians and one million of Roman 
 Catholics ? We drove out the Episcopal Protestant 
 Church when it was out of harmony with the mind oi 
 the nation. To square the Protestant Establishment with 
 Protestants Avon't do. It is an offence as a privileged 
 Church to those subjects Avho do not beheve in its teach- 
 ing, and to Avhom it is no Church at all. If the Church 
 of Scotland is in the same condition, Avhich I deny, 
 let it go. Justice must bo done. The age of selfish 
 monopolies of every kind is gone. Let it go. Christianity 
 
i868. 295 
 
 implies a giving all we can, a sharing all possible good 
 with others. To fear Romanism! I am ashamed. 
 Having ceased long ago to fear the devil, I can be fright- 
 ened by nothing more. No evil need be feared, so long 
 as good is loved. All evil is doomed ; God is on the 
 side of truth alone. 
 
 " All true politics should be in the line of making all 
 the good possessed by the nation or m the nation, as much 
 as possible a common good. No institution can be right- 
 eously defended unless it can be proved to benefit the 
 country more than its destruction could do," 
 
 To Eey. Dr. Watson : — 
 
 CinLCHEisnsrA, September, 1868. 
 
 " There is nothinsr I believe niore firmlv than that 
 what is needed is that a man seek to know, believe, and 
 act out the truth as he best can ; and I rejoice in the 
 thought that thus the great stones which build uj) the 
 mighty Temple are cemented by thin layers, unseen by 
 human eye, of ten thousand times ten thousand unloiown 
 but great, because humble, men and women. 
 
 " My highest ambition ought to be, and in a feeble 
 sense is, to be a humble man, which I am not. Although, 
 being not so, I would not like you to agree with me ! I 
 hope, hov/ever, by the grace of God, to be able at last to 
 creep into a doorkeeper's place in the house of God, or to 
 be among the lowest guests in the lowest room. ' It will 
 wonder me,' as the Germans say, should it be so in the 
 end." 
 
 To Mrs. Macleod : — 
 
 Abergeldijg, September 14, 1868. 
 
 " I am much the better for this trip. The air is cold 
 and bracing. No strangers. All most Idnd. The Duke 
 of Edinburgh is here. 
 
 " I preached happily. The Prince spoke to me about 
 preaching only twenty minutes. I told him I was a 
 Thomas a Becket, and would resist the interference of 
 the State, and that neither he nor any of the party had 
 anything better to do than hear me. So I preached for 
 
296 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 forty-seven minutes, and tliey were kind enough to say 
 tbey wished it had been longer. 
 
 " The Prince's whole views as to his duty to Scotland 
 and Ireland as well as England, were very high. He 
 spoke most kindly and wisely of Ireland, and seems 
 determined to run all risks (as he did) to do his duty to 
 her." 
 
 From his JouRNAli : — 
 
 " The Moderatorship has been offered me by the Old 
 Moderators, and I at first, by word and letter, out and 
 out refused it. I did so chiefly on the ground of my 
 desire for freedom in the expression of my personal 
 opinions, without involving the Church as its representa- 
 tive, and as also a writer of whims, crotchets, songs and 
 stories, and the editor of Good Words. But it was 
 strongly represented to me by old Moderators that I ought 
 and must accept — that it was a duty to accept, which is a 
 very different thing from a mere compliment. Well, they 
 know all about me, and the worst about me, and if, know- 
 ing this, they hke to take me, it is their own look out. 
 I was free to accept it, which I latterly did, feeling very 
 much the generosity of the Church in so acting to me. 
 I feel that I won't betray them, as I have no object but 
 the good of my dear Church, and, if possible, my still 
 dearer country." 
 
 " Nov. 24. — My family left Cuilchenna at the end of 
 September. * I was obliged to leave sooner, and felt as 
 stiff and gouty at the end as the beginning." 
 
CHAPTEE XXIL 
 
 MODERATOESHIP AND PATRONAGE. 
 
 1869—70. 
 
 IS unanimous election by the General Assembly 
 of 1869 to the dignity of Moderator gave him 
 no ordinary satisfaction. The event was gratifying 
 in itself ; but it was specially valued as a token of 
 the liberality of the Church, which could bestow such 
 an honour on one who had so recently fought for free- 
 dom at the risk of losing his ministerial position, and 
 was highly appreciated as a mark of confidence in his 
 personal loyalty and attachment to the Chui'ch. 
 
 From his JomiNAii : — 
 
 " April 8th. — It is a deep working out of love to say 
 or do from true love that which may cause the object of 
 love to manifest hate to us and yet to love him in spite of 
 his hate. 
 
 " How wonderful is the love which can discern and 
 accept of the love of God revealed in and by deepest 
 suffering, and which rejoices in the love in spite of the 
 suffering ! ' He took the cup ' and ' took the bread,' 
 symbols of a broken body and shed bood, and 'gave 
 thanks ! ' 
 
 " Love is the only way along which the whole Avorld 
 may reach greatness. The proud despise it as too common 
 
298 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 and vulgar. Tboy prefer to reach it by way of genius or 
 talent. 
 
 "... See clearly what you wish. Sincerely desire that 
 others should see it also and seek it. Helj) to bring them 
 into this mind by perfect truth and candour, patience, 
 meekness, resi^ect and tender consideration for their 
 feelings and their prejudices. Never despair, and believ- 
 ing in God and His good-will to man, be sure that the 
 right will come right. 
 
 " Deal with otliers as God deals with you, and all will 
 be done with truth and charity and jmtience. Want of 
 candour and want of confidence in our fellow-men hinder 
 and weaken us. 
 
 " I believe Ave would always gain right ends sooner, 
 whether political or ecclesiastical, if we openly declared 
 what we wanted, and made no mystery of it. Wrong 
 alone fears the light. ' Policy,' in most cases, if not in all, 
 belongs to the devil and darkness. It creates the very 
 suspicions Avhich it endeavours to conquer." 
 
 To A. Stkaiiax, Esq. : — 
 
 Shanpon. 
 "■ I have come here for a quiet day's work. I send you 
 a morsel to keep your printer's devils going. I shall send 
 as much more to-morrow." 
 
 The Old Ouai-d. 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. aqg 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 "May 18th, Tuesday. — I record my gratitude to God 
 for tlie quiet and comparatively unbroken fortnigiit I have 
 had, and the measure of good heahh also given me, and 
 the peace of mind to prepare my long address for the 
 Assembly. I go to-morrow to reach the highest point in 
 my public life. My mother, dear one ! wife and nine 
 children, aunts, brothers, sisters, nephews and nieces, and 
 troops of friends to be with me. What a height of 
 mercy ! Oh, may this be a talent used lovingly, humbly, 
 and unselfishly for His glory ! Such is my earnest 
 desire." 
 
 In giving the customary address at the close of the 
 Assembly, he took the opportunity of uttering his con- 
 victions on several important matters of ecclesiastical 
 policy. Among other points he noticed certain charac- 
 teristics of the age of which he thought account should 
 be taken by the Church. 
 
 " 1. — The aGfe in which we live is one of searching in- 
 quiry in regard to truth. We do not complain of this ; 
 for however perverted the spirit may sometimes become, 
 and however much it may manifest mere discontent with 
 things as they are, yet the spirit itself in its essence is 
 good, and should be hailed by all who love the true and 
 the right for their OAvn sakes, be the consequences to them- 
 selves what they may. 
 
 " 2. — Another characteristic of our time may be de- 
 scribed as a jealousy of all monopolies, of all privileges 
 which would secure good to the few, at the expense, 
 directly or indirectly, of the many. And this is being 
 applied to existing Church Establishments. Treaties 
 of union, Acts of Parliament, and the like, however in- 
 valuable they may be, even as means of securing time for 
 discussion, or as affording the strongest possible grounds 
 for a patient and considerate policy, must ultimately yield 
 to the prime question of political justice as decided by a 
 national jury. The country will determine, wisely or un- 
 
300 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, 
 
 wisely, what it deems best, not for this or that class, this 
 or that denomination, but for the general good. And I 
 miijht add, that establishments of religion are henceforth 
 likely to be dealt with, not according to an imperial policy 
 which recognises the unity of tlie State, but with reference 
 to the wants and expressed wishes of each separate nation- 
 ality, so to speak, whether of Scotland, England, or Ireland, 
 in Avhicli they respectively exist. On this principle the 
 Church of Ireland has been dealt with, not as an Establish- 
 ment connected with the Church of England, for less as 
 connected with the Establishment of Scotland, but merely 
 with reference to its suitableness for Ireland, as determined 
 by its past history, present position, and future prospects. 
 And thus, too, must the Churches of Scotland and England 
 in the long-run be tried, each on its own merits, each 
 according to its adaj^tation to the religious wants of the 
 country in which it exists. Now this is a principle of 
 which national Churches should not complain, inasmuch 
 as their power and efficiency are inseparable from the 
 fact of their being acceptable to the nation as a Avhole. If 
 by any fault of theirs they lose the confidence of the nation, 
 or fail to recover it after a fair trial, their continuance is 
 more than imperilled, seeing that they exist for the nation, 
 and not the nation for them." 
 
 " For myself," he said, in reference to the question of 
 Subscription, ** I confess that I do not see how the Church 
 of Christ, or any section of it, as a society professedly 
 founded on the teaching of Christ and His apostles, and 
 having a history since the day of Pentecost, can exist with- 
 out a creed expressed or administered in some form or 
 other. As far as I know, the Church has ahvays had some 
 test for the doctrinal beliefs of its teachers and members, or 
 for their beliefs of the historic facts of the New Testament 
 which constitute the basis of objective Christianity.* More- 
 over, the theory held by us, as an Established Church, im- 
 plies that the State ought to know what are the doctrines 
 professed by the Church which it proposes to establish. 
 
 * Jolin ii. 10, 11 ; 1 John iv. 1 ; 2 Tctor ii. 1 ; 1 Cor. xv. 8. 
 
MOD ERA TORSHIP AND PA TRONA GE. 301 
 
 Hence those doctrines when mutually agreed, upon, become 
 the law at once of the Church and of the State. 
 
 " What therefore in these circumstances can he done by 
 our National Church ? Shall we, for examjDle, compel 
 every minister under pain of dismissal, or of incurring 
 charges of dishonesty, to accept every statement, every 
 alleged fact, every argument for doctrine, and deduction 
 from doctrine, and proof of doctrine to be found in the 
 Confession ? Is this what the Church really means before 
 God when it usee the formula ? And do we practically 
 make no distinction between those things on which 
 Christians, the most learned and the most holy, may and 
 do differ in all Evangelical churches, and those doctrines 
 on which, as a whole, all are at one ? Possibly we may 
 obtain honest agreement in minute details, but I fear it 
 will only be on the part of the very few, of the very ignorant, 
 thus necessarily creating the dead unity of a churchyard, 
 rather than the living unity of a Church, and fostering a 
 faith like that of Romanists, which rests practically upon 
 mere Church authority. It appears to me that the 
 quantity or quality of any confession to those wlio thus 
 receive it, is of no more importance than the quantity or 
 quality of food is to a man who only carries it, but does not 
 eat it. But on the other hand is it possible without running 
 still greater risks for a Church to give official permission 
 to any office-bearer to make this distinction between 
 Essentials and Non-Essentials ? Then where is the line to 
 be drawn ? And what value Avould there be in this case 
 in any Confession at all ? Might not the most dangerous 
 and Anti-Christian opinions be preached in our pulpits, 
 and the result be that to include sceptics we practically 
 exclude true believers ? It is much easier for some to 
 sneer at creeds altogether, and for others to raise a cry of 
 horror as if God's Word was attacked when a doubt re- 
 garding them is expressed, than for both parties to carry 
 the burthen of fair and candid men, seriously considering 
 the difficulty and suggesting such a solution of it as may 
 satisfy our sense of truth in regard to ourselves, and our 
 sense of justice and charity towards others. 
 
 " And now let me ask with unfeigned humility and with 
 
302 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 a full sense of the difficulties which I have imlicated, 
 whether a practical solution, if not a logical one, mav not, 
 on the one hand, be found in common sense and spiritual 
 tact and Christian honour on the part of those who, with 
 doubts and difficulties, desire to enter or to remain in the 
 Church, and that from no selfish motive ; and, on the other 
 hand, by the exercise of those same gifts and graces 
 towards such individuals on the part of the Church ? The 
 minister can thus easily determine for himself how far he 
 honestly agrees with the teaching and doctrine of the 
 Church, or cordially accepts it as that Avliich has been 
 recognised as constituting the essentials of Christianity by- 
 the whole Catholic Church from the days of the Apostles ; 
 while the Church, retaining her power to exercise discipline 
 in every case of departure from the Confession, may also 
 exercise due caution, charity, and forbearance." 
 
 The Dean of Westminster, who was present at 
 several meetings of the General Assembly, after- 
 wards addressed the following letter to Dr. ]Maeleod 
 as Moderator : — 
 
 From Dean Stanley : — 
 
 Deanery, Westminster. 
 
 " My dear jModerator, 
 
 " I was obliged to leave in such haste on Friday, as 
 to have had no time to thank you for the great kindness 
 of the past Aveek, 
 
 " It Avas a sincere grief and disappointment to me not 
 to be able to be present to-day to hear your address, and 
 to-morrow to assist at your dinner. Nothing but the call 
 of imperative engagements here would have prevented it. 
 
 " Meanwhile I have had the very great pleasure and 
 profit of having become acquainted, by personal intercourse, 
 with your famous Assembly, and with the established organ 
 of the Church of Scotland. 
 
 " I cannot bring myself to believe that an institution so 
 represented is doomed to fall, or that the Scottish people 
 
MODERA TORSHIP AND PA TRONA GE. 303 
 
 will consent to tlie overthrow of a body which gives such 
 pledges of dignity and progress to the whole country. 
 
 " If at your dinner you should think it worth while to 
 refer to this humble expression of regard from a Presbyter 
 of the sister Church, pray consider yourself at liberty to 
 do so. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 " A. P. Stanley." 
 
 From his JotjenaIj : — 
 
 Aiud's Bat Hottse, 2nd August, 1869. 
 
 " The Moderatorship was a time of great peace of heart. 
 There was no contretemps of any kind. The house was 
 very full, and every one was kind. Dean Stanley attended 
 our Assembly, and visited the Free Church one also. He 
 lived in the same hotel as we did. My address, which 
 occupied two hours, Avas delivered to a crowded house, 
 and was kindly accepted. It has since been published. 
 
 " After the Assembly, on the following Sunday I went 
 to Balmoral ; and at the end of June went with the 
 Anti-Patronage Committee to London. The Scotch 
 Members gave us a dinner. Had an interview with 
 Gladstone, accompanied by twenty-seven M.P.'s. It was 
 my own decided opinion that we should go to Government 
 to do away with Patronage. If they refused to aid us, 
 they could not accuse us of want of sympathy with the 
 country ; and if they aided us, they could not destroy us. 
 They could not well order new clothes for a man, and 
 then kill him. 
 
 " Some think that Gladstone, in his interview as reported, 
 wished that in the memorial which he suggested, we should 
 discuss the question of sharing endowments with other 
 Presbyterian Churches. No one, at the time, as far 
 as I know, believed this. Had I done so, although 
 warned by several influeiltial Members of Parliament not 
 to discuss anything at that interview, and also feeling 
 the extreme difficulty of my position as representing 
 the Church, accompanied by a deputation with so many 
 M.P.'s of different sentiments, yet I would have refused, 
 without consent of the Church, to entertain and discuss the 
 
304 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 question of Disestablishment, wlicn we were commissioned 
 to consider Patronage only. But a leader in the Daily 
 Revieiu made me think that this meaning might be given 
 to the words, and possibl}' truly, so I protested in a speech 
 given in Glasgow, at my brother's induction dinner to Park 
 Church, against what seemed to me the insulting idea of 
 asking us to entertain such a question, although the 
 Church might do it. This called forth an abusive 
 article." * 
 
 Ecclesiastical policy was never congenial to him, 
 and it is doubtful how far he was fitted to be in 
 this sphere the leader of a party. He had strong 
 convictions as to the principles by which a national 
 Church should be guided, and drew a line, clear 
 enough to his own mind, between the generous 
 comprehension which he advocated, and the latitudi- 
 narianism which would override the limits of catholic 
 belief But he had neither patience nor taste for 
 diplomacy, nor for the finesse required to 'manage' a 
 party. His special calling, in the circumstances in 
 which the Church had been placed since 1843, had 
 respect to her life and practical work ; and he 
 felt that in proportion as he helped to make her 
 better he would also make her stronger. But, 
 
 * Considerable difference of opinion prevailed as to the exact words 
 used by Mr. Gladstone, but that Dr. Macleod hud quite apprehended 
 their purport, may bo gathered from the following letter, wiitten by- 
 Mr. Gladstone's Secretary to the Eov. Mr. Dykes, of Ajt: — 
 
 " Mr. Gladstone has no report by him of his conversation with the 
 deputation that waited on him in the summer, and is una!)lo, without 
 that assistance, to make any positive assertion on the subject ; but 
 according to his best recollection, ho gave no ojiinion of his own on 
 the proposal of the deputation, but inquired if it had been considered 
 what vit;w was or would be taken of the proposal bj' the other Presby- 
 terian communions in Scotland, and what effect its adoption would 
 have on the relation between those communions (regard being had to 
 their origin) and the Established Church." 
 
MODERA TORSHIP AND PA TRONA GE. 305 
 
 althoiigli lie was not an ecclesiastical politician, lie 
 acquired an influence in the councils of the Church, 
 and, what was still more important, an influence beyond 
 her pale which was perhaps wider and more vital than 
 that of any or all the leaders of parties.* 
 
 On this subject Dean Stanley wrote : — 
 
 " He was the chief ecclesiastic of the Scottish Church. 
 No other man during the last thirty years in all spiritual 
 ministrations so neariy filled the place of Chalmers ; no 
 other man has occupied so high and important a position 
 in guiding the ecclesiastical movements of his country since 
 the death of Robertson, we might almost say, since the 
 death of Carstares .... Macleod represented Scottish 
 Protestantism more than any other single man. Under 
 and around him men would gather who Avould gather round 
 no one else. When he spoke it was felt to be the voice, 
 the best voice of Scotland." 
 
 It was fortunate, therefore, for the movement for 
 the Abolition of Patronage, that when it first took 
 definite shape, the Church was represented by one 
 whose antecedents gave him claims to attention in 
 professing to speak on grounds of public rather than 
 sectarian policy. 
 
 His own views on the question of Patronage were 
 sufficiently defined. He never for a moment imagined 
 that it was contrary to Scripture ; and, as actually 
 exercised in the Church, he deemed there might be 
 many advantages as well as disadvantages connected 
 with its continuance. It was, however, on grounds 
 
 * I am reminded, that since tlie Disruption there have bern no 
 parties in the Church. This may be true in a technical sense, but, 
 practically, each Assembly has been divided on special questions ; and 
 these divisions have usually been determined by a general polioy. 
 VOL. II. X 
 
3o6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 of Cliristian expediency, and in vicAv of the relation 
 of the Church to the country, that he now supported 
 its abolition. Even as early as 1843 he had foreseen 
 the necessity of moving in this direction, and in his 
 closing address as Moderator of the General Assembly 
 he strongly urged the motives by which the national 
 Church ought, in his opinion, to be actuated. 
 
 " By a national Cliurch, I mean one whose clergy are 
 secured a decent support out of certain funds set apart 
 by the State for their use ; a Church whose doctrines have 
 been accepted by the State, as those which are henceforth 
 to characterise the teaching of its ministers, and whose 
 government and discipline are in their several outlines de- 
 fined, recognised, and pro'ected by law. Such an organi- 
 zation exists, not for tha sake of the clergy, but for the 
 sake of tlie country. The people do not thus belong to the 
 Church, but the Church to the people. Our stipends are 
 not given for our own sake, but for theirs. The Church is 
 their property, and all her ministrations are established for 
 their advantage. If this be so, then a national Church can 
 never, without forfeiting its true position, regard what are 
 called its own interests as being in any way independent 
 of the interests of the country, but rather as subordinate 
 to them. 
 
 " A Christian body, self-supported, whose members are 
 united by a mere voluntary agreement, may exist for itself 
 only, and teacli as it pleases, being answerable alone to 
 conscience and to God. Not so a Church which has had 
 conferred upon it the privileges and consequent responsi- 
 bilities of an Establishment. Every question which comes 
 before such a Church for decision must be judged of with 
 reference to the general interests of the nation. Accord- 
 ing to this principle, the views and wishes of Churches 
 dissenting from our communion, on grounds Avhich it may 
 be possible for us to remove, and the beliefs even of those 
 of our follow countrymen who reject all Churches, demrnul 
 from us earnest and anxious consideration. The ohico- 
 
MODERA TORSHIP AND PA IRON A GE. 307 
 
 bearers of the natioDal Church are trustees of a property 
 which is theirs only in so far as they regard it as a com- 
 mon boon, which all citizens are entitled to share. How 
 many of our divisions might have been prevented, had all 
 parties, acting on this principle, carried in common the 
 burden of the Church, and endeavoured to make her 
 claims harmonious at once with the righteous demands of 
 the State and of the country ! How much might yet be 
 (lone if we would pass over all the narrow space bounded by 
 Church party into the wider space limited only by Chris- 
 tian patriotism ! We are thus bound, as far as is con- 
 sistent with our existence as a Christian Church, to include 
 within it as many, and to exclude from it as few as possible, 
 of our countrymen. And in order, I repeat, to do this, 
 we should weicrh their conscientious convictions whether as 
 to government, forms of worship, or doctrines of minor 
 importance, in the light of that true Christian charity, which 
 is at once the hio^hest form of freedom and of restraint." 
 
 His anxiety was, if possible, to rebuild the Church, 
 on a foundation sufficiently wide to include the 
 Presbyterianism of Scotland. He did not, however, 
 delude himself with the hope of any corporate union 
 immediately taking place with the Free Church and 
 United Presbyterians, in consequence of the abolition 
 of Patronage. He knew too well their historical 
 antecedents, understood too well the spirit which 
 years of antagonism had created, and had weighed 
 too carefully other practical diiticulties to expect any 
 suck happy consummation. In reference to this he 
 used to quote from ' Christabel ' these lines — 
 
 " Alas ! they had been friends in youth ; 
 But whispering tongues can poison truth; 
 And constancj' lives in realms above ; 
 And life is thorny ; and 3'outh is vain ; 
 And to be wroth with one we love, 
 
 Doth work like madness in the brain. 
 * * * * * * 
 
 X 2 
 
3o8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Each spako words of high disdain 
 
 And insult to his heart's best brother; 
 
 Tliey parted — ne'er to meet again ! 
 
 But never either i'ound another 
 
 To free the hollow heart from paining — - 
 
 They stood aloof, the scars i-emaining, 
 
 Like cliffs which had been rent asunder ; 
 
 A dreury sea now flows between : — 
 
 But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, 
 
 Shall wholly do away, I ween. 
 
 The marks of that which once hith been." 
 
 But he certainly dared to hope that, after time 
 had exercised its healing influence, these Churches 
 wouhl be thankful for the preservation of the 
 national endowments for religion, and appreciate 
 the attempt now made to open the doors of the 
 Establishment as wide as possible to all Presby- 
 terian bodies. In these endowments he saw the 
 only sufficient security for the existence of a well 
 paid and well educated ministry for the nation. All 
 he had seen and learned of Voluntaryism in America, 
 and all he had known of its working in this country, 
 had convinced him that, when existing alone, it was 
 not only insufficient for the proper support of the 
 Chm'ch in poor districts, but involved in its very 
 nature elements of danger to the tone, independ- 
 ence, and liberty of the clergy.* It seemed to him 
 therefore a betrayal of the interests of Christianity 
 in Scotland, where the people were practically at one 
 in their beliefs, to throw away the patrimony of the 
 Church for the sake of a party triumph. He was 
 therefore determined, as far as in him lay, to con- 
 serve the Church for patriotic ends, and, with this 
 view, was anxious to bring her government as much 
 
 * See his Speech on Patronage in the Assembly of 1870. 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 309 
 
 as possible into harmony with the lawful wishes, and 
 even the prejudices of the people. 
 
 " We must endeavour to build up a Church, national but 
 not sectarian, most tolerant, but not indifferent — a Church 
 with liberty but not licence, endowed but not covetous, 
 and which, because national, should extend her sympathy, 
 her charity, if need be her protection, to other Churches, 
 and to every man who, by word or deed, tries to advance 
 the good of our beloved country."* 
 
 Some months after the deputation had waited on 
 Mr. Gladstone, he wi-ote to the Duke of Argyll in the 
 following terms : — 
 
 29th March, 1870. 
 " No man realises more fully or intensely than I do the 
 difficulties which surround us on every side in attempting 
 to preserve the Church as an Established Church, or even 
 to secure for Presby terianism the ecclesiastical funds of the 
 country. We cannot remain in our present position and 
 receive an attack, for our doing so would provoke an attack, 
 and justly too, as that would not be acting a worthy part. 
 We cannot retract after the vote for movement in regard to 
 Patronage. We must advance, stronger in numbers, in 
 activity, in talent and influence, than during any previous 
 period subsequent to '43 ; and stronger still I humbly 
 hope in an unselfish desire, as becomes a national Church, 
 to seek the good of the country. And for this end we 
 ought to be willing to share as far as practicable the 
 advantages or the prestige of the Establishment, or at 
 the worst, its endowments, with all who will receive them. 
 I advance therefore %o make honourable terms, not with 
 * the enemy,' or mutineers, but with those regiments who 
 have left us, formed themselves into a Free Corps, and have 
 weakened in so many ways the army which should be 
 united against the common foe. Our attempt is not 
 hopeless ! No attempt can be so which, before God, seeks 
 
 ■'' Speech in Assembly, 1870. 
 
310 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 to do good. A hij^lier blessing in some form must come 
 than if no such attempt is made. I have faith in God. 
 All will depend on the spirit which may actuate the 
 Churches. 
 
 " The removal of Patronage I am aware is but one 
 step, and not the greatest. But I fancy that if it could bo 
 enacted that induction should take place ' according to the 
 laws of the Church,' leaving liberty to regulate from time 
 to time the laws regarding the election, that the difficulty 
 of ' spiritual indei)endence ' Avould be practically solved. 
 
 " The Free Church could not, without denying her 
 principles and history, refuse at least to consider the 
 question in the gravest manner, and the responsibility of 
 refusal would be laid on her. A considera'ble party in 
 that Church, and in the whole north of Scotland, which 
 has declared against union with the Voluntaries, and 
 mourns over the ' sad defection ' of Candlish, Guthrie, and 
 Buchanan, would gladly entertain the idea. The United 
 Presbyterians, who in their political eagerness to join 
 the Free Church, consented to let the principle of Estab- 
 lishment be ' an open question,' could hardly make its 
 practice (a mere £ s. d. atiair) be a ground for rupture, 
 and thus, if there was an Endowed Free Church in friendly 
 co-operation — in unity, if not union — with those tender 
 consciences which ' cannot touch the coined money,' we 
 should have reform, in harmony with our past history, and 
 not Revolution. 
 
 " In spite of all that Voluntary Churches have done, 
 never were endowments, in addition to free gifts, more 
 needed, if we are to have, beyond the towns, clergy who 
 can hold their own among a cultivated and educated 
 laity. 
 
 " There is a great fear on the part of some of our Broad 
 Churchmen, lest an immigration of barbarian races into 
 the Establishment should extinguish all the freedom and 
 break up the Church by a series of massacres, or force 
 other and counter migr^itions to Independent or Episcopal 
 Churches. They tell me I should be the first man to be 
 shot ! But I do not fear this. Indeed, I begin to fear 
 much more lest liberty should degenerate into licence : 
 
MODERA TORSHIP AND PA TRONA GE. 311 
 
 anyhow, I have confidence in truth, time, and public 
 opinion. 
 
 " I write to you without reserve. I beheve in your good- 
 will to the Church, your love to your country. ' Who 
 knoweth Athether thou art come to the kingdom for such 
 a time as this ! '" 
 
 To Dr. Chabteris : — 
 
 " There would be, on the one hand, great danger to fair 
 and honest freedom by union at present with the Free 
 Church. We should be terribly tried by a Demon of 
 Dogma, wandering in dry places, and no real man daring 
 to pass that way. Even John Calvin would be strangled. 
 Hymns ! Organs ! Simpler Creed ! Simpler formula ! 
 Pfui ! All gone, and the Church would soon follow. 
 
 " I see no chance of any legislation by which their idea 
 of spiritual independence can be made possible. Do you ? 
 And if possible, desirable. Do you ? 
 
 "But, on the other hand, I hold an endowed Church, accord- 
 ing to all experience, to be almost essential to our possessing 
 men of culture, and such are a great gift from God. We 
 may do without them, but we shall do immensely better 
 with them, and this leads to union, for the strengftheninsf 
 of the Church. 
 
 " And again, bad as high and dry, tight-laced, hard 
 straight-line orthodoxy is, there is something inconceiv- 
 ably worse, and that is cold, heartless, breathless, specu- 
 lative unbelief. If I fear the Presbyterian Church of 
 Scotland being frozen by orthodoxy into fixed and dead 
 forms as respects thought, I fear a million times more 
 her ministers and j^eople being frozen into eternal lumps 
 of ice. 
 
 " Lastly, if our Church in Scotland is to do the utmost 
 possible work as a Church for Scotland, it must be by 
 method, by the saving of w\aste poAver, whether of men or 
 money, and by gaining more moral and spiritual power by 
 means of fewer temptations to malice, envy, pride, selfish 
 ambition, &c., and by affording greater inducements and 
 opportunities to cultivate common sympathies and common 
 
312 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 affections in praying, preaching, and working together in 
 advancing our Lord's kingdom. All this points to union." 
 
 Frora his Joubn^il : — 
 
 Aird's Bay, Loch Etfvie, 1869. 
 
 " At the end of June, I went with Watson and Strahan 
 to Berlin. I fixed the missionaries to the Aborigines of 
 Lidia. We left Glasgow on Tuesday, and I was back on 
 the next Friday week. I had a most uncomfortable 
 journey, and was very wearied. I returned by Hamburg ; 
 since that I have been here." 
 
 To Cat;on Kingsley : — 
 
 Alrd's Bay House, July 24, 1869. 
 
 " Your note about Captain A — came when I was occupy- 
 ing the Chair of the General Assembly. After that I had 
 to go to Balmoral ; then Loudon ; then Berlin ; all on i^ublic 
 business. ISow I am trying to rest beneath the shadow of 
 Cruachan, and to pump out the letters which have nearly 
 drowned me. 
 
 " What a glorious country this is ! I think Loch Etive 
 the finest loch in the Highlands. It worms its way like 
 Olaf Trj-ggveson's snake-boat far up among silent hills 
 for thirty miles, with branching glens going nowhere, 
 here and there a hut like a boulder, ending with the 
 shepherds of Etive Glen. 
 
 "It is worth coming all this way to row up the Loch, 
 for there is no road on either side, and its shores are 
 unpolluted. No Murray knoweth them. The trail of 
 the old clans has not been obliterated by foot of civilised 
 man. An old seal raised his head and wondered if I was 
 going to join Prince Charlie. The sheep stare at me. 
 The hills seem to dress themselves in their best robes 
 and colours to receive strangers. 
 
 " Well, Benares and Bunawe, Lucknow and Lome are 
 queer contrasts ! 
 
 " What a glory before me is that Cruachan ! For a week 
 after arriviuLT I was so faffed and out of sorts that Nature 
 touched me only on the outside. My soul seemed Nature 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 313 
 
 proof. It begins now to receive some of its beauty ; and 
 next to tlie Bible I find Nature tlie holiest teacher. 
 
 "It is fortunate for me that you will be unable to read 
 this." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 " 2(>//i August, 1869. — I leave in an hour for Inverie, 
 \\x. Baird's place in the north. 
 
 " I have had a wonderful time of happiness with all my 
 dear children, all so well and joyous ; one of those many 
 times of heaven's sunshine on earth we have had together, 
 but which cannot, in the transition period of education by 
 trial, be repeated often. 
 
 " I preached every Sunday, except the one I was in 
 Glasgow. I have written two 'Peeps' — Madras and Calcutta; 
 also a long article in Record on the Aborigines, and at least 
 200 letters. We have had little trips — on Loch Awe and 
 Loch Etive — once with dear Shairp. 
 
 •* I have been made Dean of the Thistle." 
 
 His former assistant and minister of his Mission 
 Church, the Eev. Mr. Young, of Ellon, gives the fol- 
 lowing reminiscence of an evening spent at Aii'd's 
 Bay:- 
 
 " The Doctor had retired early in the day into a quiet 
 room for work, but as the day wore on, and he heard us 
 at croquet, he left his letters and India Mission work and 
 joined us for a while. He likes this game, for it brings 
 him into the open air and the society of his children, and 
 so enthusiastic does he get that he affects even to lose his 
 temper as the play goes against his side. It was, however, 
 only a brief interlude of relaxation, for he was soon at his 
 writing again, and scarcely emerged till late in the even- 
 ing. We had gathered in the drawing-room, and the music 
 had just commenced, when a tap on the window outside 
 summoned me to join him. He is tired after his day's 
 work, and sits smoking under a tree. The solemn calm 
 
314 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 ■ and beauty of the landscape, seen in the fast-fading light, 
 have suggested a multitude of profound thoughts -which 
 he wishes to communicate. I sit almost speechless, for 
 he discourses most marvellously about God's mercies and 
 their varied effects on the grateful and ungrateful. Tliere 
 is a nervous eloquence in his words, and although it is 
 very dark, I know that his whole frame heaves with 
 emotion, as he pictures the hard struggle Avhich the 
 Christian has in acquiescing in the divine Avill when 
 that will re(|uires the surrender of some choice bless- 
 ing. This leads to a touching autobiographical sketch, in 
 which he tells of the deep waters he had some years 
 before passed through during the time Mrs. Macleod was 
 in fever. I never was so impressed as by that conversa- 
 tion. The sacred quiet of the late evening, the earnest 
 pathos of the speaker, and the thrilling nature of the 
 theme powerfully affected me. When he ended we Aviped 
 the tears from our eyes, and joined the family in the 
 drawing-room, and enjoyed music and singmg the rest of 
 the evening." 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 *' December 31si, 1869. — In a few hours the century will 
 have lived its threescore and ten years ! I question if since 
 time began, with the exception of three or four great eras, 
 such as the calling of Abraham, the Exodus, the Birth of 
 Christ, the Reformation, the invention of printing, or it 
 may be, the breaking up of the Roman Empire, the birth 
 of Mahomet, or of Buddah — such an influential period 
 has existed. The invention of the steam-engine, the 
 discovery of gas, telegraph, chloroform ; Avith the freedom 
 of slaves, the British acquisition of India, the opening up 
 of the world to the gospel, the translations of the Scrip- 
 tures, will make it for ever memorable. 
 
 "It has been a happy year to myself, and some events 
 in it have been to me interesting personally. 
 
 " I have collected some thousands for Retiring Allow- 
 ance Fund : addressed very many meetings on Missions ; 
 founded and collected for Aborigines Mission ; got free site 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 315 
 
 for new Mission Chnrch at Eluevale ; aided in arranging 
 plan for ten new churches. Written eleven articles for 
 Good ^¥ord8. 
 
 ''January, 1870. — We had our old gathering on the 
 first of the year at Shandon. My beloved mother, alive 
 and hearty, at the head of our table ! Such mercies 
 are aAvful ! And very rare it is in a man of fifty-eight to 
 have such a mother — so grand and good, so full of love 
 and sj'inpathy^almost painful from its intensity — to be 
 one with him from his infancy ! 
 
 " . . . . God Almighty, imbue us all with Thy charity ! 
 The longer I live the less do I desire to judge any man. 
 There is no one but God can decide as to any man's 
 character. This is a product of so many causes — tem- 
 perament, the society into which he has been cast, intel- 
 lectual capacity, the teaching he has received, whether 
 from the books he has read, the clergy — perhaps bigots, 
 ignorant men, suj)erstitious dogmatists, mere talkers — he 
 has heard, and a thousand circumstances — that we dare 
 not condemn the man, thouo^h from the lio'ht God has 
 given us we may say, * to me this is right or wrong.' Many 
 a so-called 'infidel' is nearer the kingdom of God than 
 many an ' orthodox ' minister. Many an unbeliever is a 
 protest against those who in honest ignorance have, in the 
 name of God, spoken what is untrue. What we all need 
 is a child-like spirit to trust God, to hear God, to believe 
 that there is a God who loves us, Who desires our indi- 
 vidual well-being, Who can and will teach us, and lead 
 us into all essential truth, such truth as will make us His 
 children in teachableness and obedience. 
 
 " The clergy have often done great damage to the 
 truth. They have sought more to fit in what has been 
 proposed as truth to them, to a system of theology given 
 them in the Divinity Hall, than to see it in the light of 
 God himself. 
 
 " It is an awful thought that some men cannot brinsf 
 God's own revealed truth into the light of reason and con- 
 science. I have such profound faith in revealed truth to us 
 as to rejoice that it shall be tried by what God has revealed 
 in us. I would tremble for any truth that could be main- 
 
3i6 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 tained by nothing more than by the authority of the 
 letter, by an ' it is written.' Jesus used this argument ; 
 })ut it was to the Devil, who had no spiritual eye to 
 see. So may we address his disciples, and leave them to 
 iliink of it. Yes, and it answers to what is written in 
 the soul, conscience, hopes, sorrows, joys, and expecta- 
 tions of humanity. I almost adore the Bible. The more 
 I read it, without almost any thought of questions of 
 inspiration, but simply as a record of fact, of precept 
 and principle, of judgment and of mercy, of God's acts 
 and 'ways' {i.e. the principles of his acts), all culminating in 
 Christ, as a revelation of what God is to man, and what 
 man was created to be to God, the more my Avhole moral 
 being responds to it, as being a revelation of God. The 
 authority of the Bible is to me supreme, because it ' com- 
 mands ' my reason and conscience. I I'eel it is from God. 
 It was once otherwise with me. It is so no more ; and the 
 older I get, the more ray spirit says amen to it. 
 
 " I feel a great difference from looking at revealed 
 truth, not as it dovetails into a system of theology, but 
 as it appears in the light of God, as revealed in Christ. 
 A divine instinct seems to assure me ' this is true,' 
 ' it is like God,' ' it is in harmony with all I know of 
 Him.' 
 
 " I believe all our churches are breaking up. We have 
 almost settled the questions of mere dogmatics. Calvinism, 
 Arminianism, and all the imis connected with men have 
 (lone their w'ork in educating the Church. Rome tries 
 by the force of numbers centred in Papal infallibility in 
 resrard to dofj^ma, to hold the Church tos^ether. Protes- 
 tantism is, in another form, trying to create unity bj 
 restraints that are also external. But what we crave foi 
 is the union of life, ' Christ in us,' which alone can con- 
 vince the world that a new supernatural power has really 
 entered humanity, a power which alone can produce in us 
 a new character, and make us partakers of the divine nature. 
 I think we shall be all smashed as respects churches and 
 systems, and this, as a negative preparation for the second 
 coming of Christ — not an objective coming, but one through 
 the Spirit, as Christ in us, the whole life of Christ, uniting 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 317 
 
 all who know Him, as the one hope of glory. May Thy 
 kingdom come ! 
 
 " The power of mere traditional views of so-callod 
 Christianity is to me utterly astounding. I heard an ex- 
 cellent young man preach last night. He logically carried 
 out the assumption that our Lord endured the very punish- 
 ment our sins deserved. Hence, he said, the damned in 
 hell alone could understand His sufferings ! Yet such mon- 
 strous — shall I call it biasphemy ? — never struck him. 
 God forgive us clergy, who have made men infidels by all 
 the ' hard speeches ' we have in our ignorance uttered 
 asrainst Thee. 
 
 " The Lord reigns ! Let the earth be glad ! Our hope 
 is in Him who ' is able,' — who else can ? — to give us light 
 and life. 
 
 " My life is not what I would have chosen. I often 
 yearn and long for quiet, for reading, and for thought. It 
 seems to me to be a very paradise, to be able to read, think, 
 pray, go deep into things, gather the glorious riches of 
 intellectual culture, rise into the empyrean of abstract 
 truth, write thoughtful and careful sermons, grasp at the 
 great principles of wise statesmanship, master all the his- 
 torical details necessary as data for future reference, &c., &c. 
 
 " God has forbidden it in His providence. I must spend 
 hours in receiving people (not of my congregation) who wish 
 to speak to me about all sorts of trifles ; to reply to letters 
 about nothing; to engage on public work on everything; to 
 waste my life on what seems uncongenial, vanishing, tem- 
 porary, waste. Yet God knows me better than I know 
 myself. He knows my gifts and powers, my failings, and 
 my weaknesses, what I can do and not do. So I desire to 
 be led, and not to lead ; to follow Him ; and I am quite sure 
 that He has thus enabled me to do a great deal more, in 
 ways which seem to me almost a waste of life, in advancing 
 His kingdom than I could have done in any other way — 
 I am sure of that. Intellectually I am weak. In scholar- 
 ship nothing. In a thousand things a baby. He knows 
 this, and so he has led me and greatly blessed me, who am 
 nobody, to be of some use to my Church and fellow men. 
 How kind, how good, how compassionate, art Thou. God ! 
 
3i8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " Oh, my Father ! keep me humble. Help me to 
 have respect towards raj' fellow-men — to recognise their 
 several gifts as from Thee. Deliver me from the (lial)olical 
 sins of malice, envy, or jealous}^ and give me hearty joy 
 in my brother's good, in his work, in his gifts and talents ; 
 and may I be truly glad in his superiority to myself, if 
 Thou art glorified ! Root out all weak vanity, all devilish 
 pride, all that is abhorrent to the mind of Christ. God, 
 liear my prayer ! Grant me the wondrous joy of humility, 
 which is seeing Thee as All in All ! 
 
 "January 17. — That Avhich does not commend itself 
 to the conscience of the Church, i.e., the true Church of 
 men who reverence God, who seek Him, desire to do His 
 will, and peril all in knowing Him, is not to be received. 
 God Himself challenges the response of the enlightened 
 conscience — ' Judge between me and my vineyard.' 
 
 " I thank God that He, not man's absurd arguments, 
 can touch sinners and bring them to Himself. 
 
 " How often are men riojht in the thinq-, and wronsr in 
 the argument. How often right in the argument, and 
 wrong in the thing ! AU-mcrciful, wise God, have mercy 
 on us and teach us !" 
 
 To Rev. W. F. Stevenson : — 
 
 February, 1R70. 
 
 " I returned at the end of last week from England, 
 Avhere my Avife and I spent ten days very happily. We 
 visited, with our kind friends the Lumsdens, Oxford, 
 Kenilworth, Stratford-on-Avon, and, aided by a carriage 
 and two horses, had a splendid day with the hounds, and 
 followed them from the meet to the death. The clergy 
 are too much Jacob all over, and might be improved by a 
 little of Esau. What a fine man could be made out of 
 them both — better than either ! 
 
 " I have too much on hand. I beo^in another new church 
 for my poor peo})le. But I am now as firmly convinced as 
 ^liiller or you are, that whatever work God gives us to 
 do will be done and finished, if done to Him and by 
 Him ! So I shall build my church — get £10,000 for my 
 Retiring Fund, establish my Aborigines Mission, get fit 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 319 
 
 men and money for liome and abroad, and also become 
 myself a better man — though last not least ! 
 
 " I wish 1 had a long talk Avith you on public affixirs. 
 All is preparing, by bad as well as good, for the coming of 
 Christ in us — to reign on earth." 
 
 He resumed once more the fatiguing labour of 
 addressing Presbyteries and public meetings in dif- 
 ferent parts of the country on behalf of the India 
 Mission ; and while he was grateful for the personal 
 kindness he always experienced and the expressions 
 of increased interest on the part of clergy and laity 
 with which these meetings were generally concluded, 
 lie had yet to deplore the absence of permanent 
 results. The movement which was inaugurated, the 
 resolutions that were heartily carried where he was 
 present, were too frequently forgotten a few weeks 
 afterwards. He was also not a little annoyed by 
 the readiness with which many excellent ministers 
 assumed an attitude of suspicion towards the Mission, 
 lest it should be conducted on too ' broad ' principles. 
 
 " This India Mission," he writes, " our only mission to 
 the heathen, is on its trial. The deputation to India was 
 but a prelude to the more difficult work of seeking to give 
 life to this great, stolid, dull mass of clergy and people." 
 
 "I solemnly declare," he writes again to a res^^ected 
 brother clergyman who was standing aloof, " that except I 
 am better supported by the clergy I will give it up. I have 
 neither time nor heart for it. Last night, lame with gout, 
 I addressed two thousand five hundred people in Perth. 
 I have now been for four hours doing nothing but writing 
 letters connected with another meeting — and this is but 
 a drop in my bucket — and in the midst of this constant 
 worry of mind to have cold water or lukewarm water thrown 
 over me ! The fire burns in my bones for a mission and a 
 
320 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Clmrch at the point of perishing. In God's name I will 
 fiy^ht my gun till I die — hut you must come into the 
 battery." 
 
 From his Jouenal : — 
 
 " Our India mission has never been so strong in point 
 of agency since '43. But "will the Church respond ? The 
 Lord knows ! My terror is that she will not ; and then 
 God will in judgment take away that which has been 
 given ! How fearful ! God's ministers to be the obstruc- 
 tions to missions ! God's ministers to be the last ! * Then 
 Cometh the end ! ' 
 
 " May the Lord avert it ! It is almost inconceivable 
 into what a hard, formal state, even ministers may come ! 
 A sort of Protestant Pugi ; * a Romanism of mere 
 'sound words' — forms; no life, no longing or yearn- 
 ing to win souls to Christ ; no faith, but a conceited 
 philosophism, a puj)i-)yism of would-be philosophical or 
 evangelical cant, or an unbelief, whose one end is cultivat- 
 ing popularity with farmers and parishioners. 
 
 "As to farmers, I was visiting to-day a working man's 
 family from the country. What an account they gave me 
 of the family life so often found in our Scotch farms ! The 
 indifference of the masters, the consequent ignorance, 
 brutality, nnd moral filth of the servants — the atrocious 
 selfisliness of the whole thing ! I have the poorest possible 
 opinion of the morality, the common decency that is too 
 frequently observed on the farms of Scotland. As Dr. 
 
 Chalmers said of so I may say of a mass of our 
 
 agriculturists — they are a set of ' galvanised Divots' t 
 
 "... There is a great talk about education. "Well, 
 I would prefer what is foolishly called * secular educa- 
 tion ' (as if all truth was not from God, and therefore 
 according to His will) to none. Put why not religious 
 instruction, ii ' religions education ' is too glorious a thing 
 to aspire after ? Surely the facts of the Bible, what it 
 records and says (whatever value individuals may attach 
 
 * ' rnp-i ' is tho Indian name for ritual. 
 
 t ' Divot ' is an expressive Scutcli word for a tui'f — sod. 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 321 
 
 to them), should be given to our chikh-en ? I think that 
 the facts of Mohammedanism and even J]rahminism, as 
 well as those of Greek and lioman mythology, should be 
 given to the citizens of a great nation which rules millions 
 
 o o 
 
 believing in both. How much more the facts of the Bible ! 
 As for the Shorter Catechism, I would not wish it taught in 
 schools, or any catechism or abstract dogmatic teaching. 
 Give me the alleged facts ! I shall then have the skeletons 
 which I can through the Spirit quicken into a great army ! 
 
 " The ignorance of some critics on Scripture is wonder- 
 ful ! There is just as much bigotry, narrowness, and 
 fanaticism in scejDtics as in Christians. I have often 
 marvelled at the ignorance of writers against the Bible in 
 regard to facts, or as to what enlightened theologians have 
 written. 
 
 " I don't believe one fact narrated in Scripture will be 
 found, in the end, adverse to, but in profound harmony 
 with science, reason, conscience, history, and common sense. 
 
 " Narrow-minded theologians have been the greatest 
 enemies to the gospel. They are sincere, pious, devoted, 
 but often conceited, self-willed, and ignorant, making their 
 shibboleths inspiration. Pious women, good souls, have 
 also played into the hands of infidels, and done them much 
 service. 
 
 " Ignorant missionaries of the revival and extreme Cal- 
 vinistic school have been great barriers in the way of the 
 gospel in India. 
 
 " Why is it that ' liberal ' Churchmen don't work ? 
 Why don't they take up missions, tract and other 
 societies ? They leave these to many old wives. The good 
 and wise men among the 'Evangelicals' would be thankful 
 for their aid." 
 
 "March 11th. — I have been astounded by a most in- 
 fluential member of the Church saying to me, ' What is it 
 to me whether Christ worked miracles or rose from the 
 dead ! We have got the right idea of God through Him. 
 It is enough, that can never perish !' And this truth is 
 like a flower which has grown from a dunghill of lies and 
 myths ! Good Lord, deliver me from such conclusions ! 
 If the battle has come, let it ; but before God I will fight 
 
 VOL. ir. Y 
 
322 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 it with tliosc only, be tliey few or liuiny, who behove in a 
 risen, Hving Saviour. 
 
 " This revelation of tlie influence of surface criticism has 
 thrown me back immensely upon all who hold fast by an 
 objective revelation. Nothing can possibly move me from 
 Jesus Christ the living Saviour, the Divine Saviour, the 
 Atoning Saviour, whatever be the philosophy of that atone- 
 ment. I fear, yet fear not, a great battle with all foims of 
 Antichrist." 
 
 " A'pvil G. — If the Church of Scotland Avill relax her 
 formula, improve her worship, by using a liturgy as well as 
 extempore prayer, prescribe a regular course of Scripture 
 lessons for reading in Church, have good music and organs 
 if need be, no patronage, a more careful superintendence 
 of men, as was done by the old superintendents, establish 
 a Central Sustentation Fund to support and stimidate 
 Home Mission work — then we may be stronger than ever. 
 We must be the Church of evangelical freedom and 
 progress. 
 
 " . . . . If the sorrows of Christ Avere the necessary 
 result of His relationship to God and man, must they not 
 continue ? Why not, but in a form consistent with and 
 modified by His present glorified and triumphant state ? 
 
 " Our heaven is not a selfish one. It is sympathy with 
 Christ. A part of its glory may be noble suffering such 
 as a wise and good man would prefer inconceivably to the 
 spiritual self-indulgence of golden harps and enjoyment. 
 
 " Then cometh the end ! When ? But until then — 
 what ? What of the wicked ? What of their education 
 beyond the grave ? What of the mission of the Church 
 to them ? May not our Foreign Mission last in the next 
 world ? What if tremendous self-sacrifice Avill be demanded 
 of the Church to save the wicked, in ever}' case where that 
 is morally possible, and the death of Christ for sinners 
 be repeated in principle ? 
 
 " blessed God ! How beautiful is that blue sky seen 
 through my small study window ! What glory in Thy 
 clouds ? What calm and peace above this world of battle 
 and of blood ! 
 
 " We are made for society. God has implanted the 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 323 
 
 social instinct in us, but the only bond of society is 
 unselfishness." 
 
 From Sir Akthur Helps :— 
 
 CoTTKciL Office, 1870. 
 
 " You are a very foolish man in one thing ; and, as a 
 sincere friend, it is my duty to tell you so. I have noticed 
 this error in you more than once. You are by nature, and 
 you cannot help yourself, however much yoa may try to 
 fork Mrs. Nature out, an eloquent man in talk as in 
 speaking. 
 
 " The good talk of others excites you, and you heartily 
 respond to it. 
 
 "People never like you better than when you do so 
 respond. And then, afterwards, you have qualms of con- 
 science and worry yourself by saying, ' Was I not too tem- 
 pestuous ? ' 
 
 " No, you v/ere not ; you were never more agreeable. 
 I must, as a true friend, drive this silly notion out of your 
 head. 
 
 " For example, the other day that clever Saturday re- 
 viewer who sat next to me was your most dire opponent. 
 He fired arrows into you, sharp arrows. You went on, 
 never minding. With the arrows sticking in your breast, 
 you went on thundering at him, and being perfectly un- 
 conscious of the adherent shafts. 
 
 " Now that reviewer went away with me, and he ex- 
 pressed the most affectionate admiration for you. 
 
 "I declare to you, that vehement as you are (and I love 
 your vehemence), I never heard you say a discourteous 
 thing to your opponent whether he were present or absent, 
 and the latter is by far the greater merit. 
 
 " Never again talk to me about repentance in this matter. 
 Sometimes I think you are too merciful to your opponents." 
 
 To PuiNCiPAii Shairp : — 
 
 April 23rd, 1870. 
 
 " Matthew Arnold is good, but I do not think that the 
 inspiration, in an}?- honest sense, of the Apostles is to be 
 set aside and their testimony as to fact and dogma to be 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 criticised as one would a lecture of Jowett's or a volume of 
 Renan. He jumps also too rapidly from the position of 
 not seeing a statement as true to that of rejecting it as if 
 untrue, rather than to wait for light. I see also a ten- 
 dency to deal with a spiritual machinery of motive, law, 
 conscience, will, to the exclusion of a living personal God, 
 just as men are doing with macliiner}'- of law in the natural 
 world. But I did not mean to write an article. I believe 
 the Bible from Genesis to Revelation will be recoijnised 
 more and more as a revelation chosen and approved of by 
 God, as the best possible, just as true science increases in 
 breadth, unity, and depth. I despise and abhor that self- 
 indulcfence of whim, and measurinc; evervthingr bv the 
 agreeable. I'd rather sweep chiinneys and be a man, than 
 a king and be a spoon." 
 
 To Mrs. Macleoi> : — 
 
 Balmoral, May, ISTO. 
 
 " Yesterday was a day of battle and of triumph and no 
 mistake for my friends the evil ' speerits.' Through the 
 ignorance of that Avretched ' Boots ' I was ke})t hanging 
 about the Perth platform from 12 noon-day, till 11.45 p.m. 
 Think of it if you can, sleeping, walking, yawning, smok- 
 ing, groaning, smiling and abusing ! A train leaves Aber- 
 deen at 3 A.M. while the Queen is here. I got it. Mes- 
 senger's carriage full, of course. Had to hire another. 
 Arrived here at 6 a.m. Have slept since, and ])reakfasfod 
 in my own room. Seen no one. Tired, but have been 
 worse. 
 
 " On opening my bag found hair-brushes and comb left 
 behind! Of course. Oh these wee deevils!" 
 
 To Eev. A. Clekk, LL.D. :— 
 
 " That early school of Campbeltown — boys first and 
 lads afterwards — up to college days has had a deep effect 
 on me. I am amazed as I think of the reckless and 
 affectionate abandon with which I threw myself into it ! 
 !My slap-dash manner and words are its result, and will 
 stick to me more or less all my life." 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 325 
 
 To the Same, on tke death of a very dear son : — 
 
 Glasgow, 1870. 
 ". . . . I trust you and Jessie realise the truth of 
 Adie's life and love to you all. He is not unless he re- 
 members, and as he does he loves. I always think of him 
 as received by his numerous relations, grandfathers and 
 grandmothers, aunts and uncles, and his little brother 
 grown up and feeling so thoroughly at home, and re- 
 joicing in life and in hope, and sustained by a great faith 
 in the hope of meeting you all, and in you all pleasing 
 God on earth as the highest of all. I preached lately 
 on death in the light of Christ coming for us and 
 taking us to Himself, and on heaven as a place pre- 
 pared for us, i.e. adapted in every detail to the feelings, 
 associations, &c., of human beings, young and old, culti- 
 vated and ignorant. All this is necessarily bound up with 
 the fact that He who was a child, as well as a man, who 
 lived among and loved such persons as ourselves, must 
 build, furnish and adorn the house in a way suitable to 
 all the members of His own family — the dear bairns most 
 of all, for them He took to his own heart." 
 
 His summer quarters were fixed for this season at 
 Java Lodge, in the island of Mull, not far from the 
 celebrated ruins of Duart Castle. The view from 
 the coast was superb, including, what was to him 
 of unfading interest — the hills of Morven and 
 distant Fiunary, the scene of his earliest and happiest 
 associations. 
 
 From his JoUENAIi : — 
 
 Java Lodge, July 17, 1870. 
 " The Assembly — for I must go back in my brief record 
 of events — passed off well. Its characteristic was its treat- 
 ment of questions chiefly bearing on the practical life of 
 the Church, The Patronage question, though carried by 
 a large majority, did not excite much enthusiasm ; first, 
 because there was no great hope of Government taking it 
 
326 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 up unless a strong 2)olitical pressure was brought to Lear 
 upon it — this was not likely from the influence of politieal 
 Dissenters on the elections in Scotland ; — and, secondly, 
 should it be carried, we felt no great security for better 
 ministers being appointed than now, when the people have 
 it practically all their own way, checked by Patronage. But 
 the resolution of the Assembly put us in a better position 
 with the country. Dr. Cook, almost the only statesman 
 we have, acted a very unselfish and patriotic part, seeking 
 the good of the Church, and not a party triumph. 
 
 " I spoke on Patronage, Christian Life, Home Missions, 
 and India. I published m}^ sermon given at the opening 
 of the Assembly. Put how can I publish as I preach ! 
 
 " I have this moment heard that France has declared 
 war against Prussia. It is awful to think of the thousands 
 who are on this quiet Sunday, here all peace, marching to 
 wounds and death. The Lord Jesus is over all ! This is 
 an end of the Napoleon dynasty, and an end of Rome for 
 the Pope ! So much for the dogma of the Infallibility. 
 
 " The Emperor is mad ! He must fail. I argue that 
 the French dare not cross the Rhine at Strasbur?, as the 
 Prussians will advance from Coblentz and Maintz — these 
 being magnificent bases of operation — and they will thus 
 outflank the French, and compel them to keep to Metz as 
 their centre. They are outnumbered, and must fail. 
 
 "August 10. — Victory, victory for Prussia ! (WoerfJi.) 
 We shall have the grand battle east of Metz. If the 
 French gain, by dividing the Prussians, what then ? It 
 would be but momentary. To cross the Rhine is not 
 impossible. But the French are outnumbered, and will 
 receive a terrible smash ! They will fiill back on Paris, 
 Paris will revolt, Napoleon wil4 abdicate, and in three 
 weeks be, with his family, in London. There will be a 
 Provisional Government. All will be confusion. The 
 Lord reigns ! " 
 
 "Sunday, 27th. — What a glorious day! I preached on 
 Missions. These days of preaching make the little High- 
 land churches the monuments to me of the most hajipy 
 days of my sojourn. Never did the landscape appear more 
 magnificent ; the shadows and lights upon the hills were 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 327 
 
 uneartlily. Sliien, in glory, a rainbow rose — for there was 
 no arch — up from the Buachaill Etive, and was such as the 
 Shekinah may have aj^peared to the tribes who from afar 
 looked on the encampment of Israel. The sea crisp Avith 
 sparkling waves ; the sky intensely blue, in great spaces 
 between husfe masses of cumuli clouds, with some more 
 sombre ; the distant hills were near and clear, as if seen 
 through crystalline air ; and then, the lights upon them ! 
 bright rays lighting up, below, yellow cornfields, and green 
 pastures ten miles oft", and above, sometimes a bare scuir 
 or deep corrie, or broad green hill-back, with heavy dark 
 shadows slowly pursuing the sunlight over hill and dale. 
 I beheld Morven along with Aunt Jane. We gazed together 
 on the distant church, beside which as holy a family lie 
 interred as I have ever known. I saw the trees which 
 mark Samuel Cameron's house, where I spent such happy 
 years, and received an education, the education of my 
 beloved ones in Fiunary included, such as has moulded 
 my whole life. I enjoyed one of those seasons of intense 
 and rare blessing when tears come we cannot tell wh}^, 
 except from a joy that rises in silent prayer and praise to 
 the Creator and Redeemer. 
 
 "Dear Dr. Craik is dead, and his funeral sermon has 
 this day been preached. His illness and death — how real 
 have both been to me ! He was a good man, a great 
 strength to the Church, and a most sincere friend, and I 
 mourn his loss. 
 
 " Blessed be God for the gathering in and eternal union 
 of His people. Our friends in heaven remain the same 
 persons, with all their sinless peculiarities. They therefore 
 remember us, and love us more than ever. Are they in- 
 terested in us ! perhaps concerned about us ? "Why not ! 
 The joy of the redeemed is not a selfish joy. I would 
 despise the saint who enjo3'ed himself in a glorious 
 mansion singing psalms, and who did not wish his joy 
 disturbed by sharing Christ's noble and grand care about 
 the world. So long as man, and my dear ones are 
 in ' the current of the heady fight,' I don't wish to be 
 imorant of them on the "ground that it would Sfive me 
 pam and mar my joy ! I prefer any pain to such joy ! I 
 
3^8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 caimot think it possible that my heaven there shall be 
 different from my heaven here, which consists in sympathy 
 with C^irist. If He has a noble anxiety, limited by jjerfect 
 faith, in what is going on upon earth ; if human sin is areality 
 to Him ; if His life there as well as here is by faith in the 
 Father ; if he watches for the end, and feels human sin and 
 sorrow, and rejoices m the good, and feels the awfLdness of 
 the wrong, yet ever has deep peace in God ; why should not 
 Plis people have the joy of sharing this Godlike burthen 
 of struggling humanity ? ' Then comcth the end.' But the 
 end is not yet. The final day of judgment may be millions 
 of years hence. Until then the whole Church may have 
 its education of labour and teaching continued in mighty 
 ventures of self-sacrifice, and in ten thousand ways put to 
 the proof, in order to improve those talents of faith, 
 self-denial, hope, acquired on earth. This might imply 
 suffering ; why not ? Many picture a heaven which is 
 a reilection of their own selfish nature. ' Don't trouble us; ' 
 ' Tell us no bad news ; ' ' "VVe are saved, let others drown ; ' 
 ' What is the earth to us ? ' ' It is past ; give us fine 
 music, fine scenery, and let the earth — shall I write it ? — 
 go to the devil ! ' That is not my heaven ! I wish to 
 know, I wish to feel, I wish to share Christ's sympathies, 
 until the end coines. 
 
 " The idea that Dr. Craik no longer cares about 
 Missions to India, would give me a poor idea of a heaven 
 of sympathy with Jesus Christ." 
 
 To Mrs. Dbummond, Megginch Castle : — 
 
 Isle of Mull, Tdh August, 1870. 
 " I am in retreat, banished to a spot beyond sj^ace, 
 and where time merges into eternity. Posts are rare. 
 Their news is fost mortem — dead — belonging to a 
 past world history ! Your kind note arrived here long 
 after Dean Stanley had become Archbishop, and the 
 Established Church destroyed. To have met him in your 
 house would have been a true delight to me, but I was 
 and am still in ]\Iull, and where Midi is, no one knows 
 except Sir Roderick Murchison, who knows everything, and 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 329 
 
 Le only guesses about it ; so I can only express my great 
 regret at having been so far away, and thus deprived of 
 such good company. There was a foolish report spread here 
 this morning by a chance whaler, that a war had broken 
 out in Europe, that the French had taken Berlin, and, 
 after landing at Aberdeen, w^ere marching on Glasgow. If 
 this is true I won't leave Mull until peace is proclaimed ; 
 but, if the news proves a canard, as I think quite possi])le, 
 I shall return this week to Glasgow, which I hope to 
 reach six weeks after the world, according to John Gum- 
 ming, is consumed ! " 
 
 T(j the Eev. Thomas Young : — 
 
 AiKjust, 1870. 
 
 "As to sudden death I never could pray to be delivered 
 from it, but only to be ready for it. God alone who knows 
 our frame and temperament, knows by what death we can 
 best glorify Him. Sudden death may to many be a great 
 mercy." 
 
 To A. Strahan, Esq. : — 
 
 Java Lodge, August, 1870. 
 
 " What an evening of glory ! The lights, the hills, the 
 castled promontory are as of old, and years too have fled, 
 and Ossian is old also. 
 
 " What a dinner awaited you ! Flags flying, chickens 
 
 delicate as sonnets of Miss , vegetables as many as the 
 
 articles on , and far more digestible. Ghampagne 
 
 with a brilliancy and bouquet that rivalled the papers of the 
 
 editor, rice pudding as pure and wholesome as 's 
 
 sermons. While every hill 
 looked down, and every coney 
 opened its eyes, and the fish 
 swam and the ocean mur- 
 mured, and the red deer got 
 white, all with excitement 
 to see — what ? Your arrival 
 that arrived not. Oh, it was 
 sad, sad ! " 
 
330 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his JornxAL : — 
 
 " War ! How strange tliat war has formed the subject of 
 our oldest poems, paintings, and histories, that it is at this 
 moment as terrible as ever ! What docs it mean ? How 
 can we account for its existence, its apparent necessity in 
 the kingdom of God ? It does not imply any personal 
 hate whatever, no more than the execution of a male- 
 factor does cruelty and love of blood. The bravest soldier 
 is associated with the gentleman, and highest chivalry. 
 It seems to me that lawful war, as distinct from war of 
 passion, originates in what appears to be a social law. 
 That as God wishes mankind to be divided into nations 
 smaller or greater, and as no nation ought to exist in 
 which there is not government, and as government implies 
 power to protect life and j^i'opcrty and enforce its laws, so 
 must the more powerful govern for the greatest good of 
 the greatest number. Who the most powerful are can be 
 determined only by war, unless the weak give in. It is 
 by this law of the weak giving way to the strong, by this 
 sifting process of war, that our clans have been absorbed 
 into a small nation, and small nations into a great one, 
 strong enough to hold its own. Any race, or any people 
 have, therefore, a perfect abstract right to assert its superi- 
 ority or independence if it is superior ; but war alone 
 can determine that, if the fact is disputed. In the long- 
 run, as a rule, each successive great advance in the world's 
 civilization and progress has been the result of war. 
 Battles are great sacrifices preceding resurrections. "\Miat 
 man designs is one thing, and what God brings to pass is 
 another. This great war is really to determine not whether 
 Louis Napoleon is to be Emperor, but whether the Latin 
 or Teutonic race is to be strongest in Europe and the 
 world ! 
 
 " As to ' the inventions for murdering people' — this is all 
 nonsense. Every contribution made by science to improve 
 instruments of war makes war shorter, and in the end Ics? 
 terrible to human hfe, and human progress. Never was 
 the ameliorating influences of education and Christian 
 benevolence more visible than in this war. The more 
 that kiiigdoms are much about the same strength, the 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 
 
 331 
 
 less likely is war. And, by the way, it is an index of a 
 time when one state will respect its neighbour, that the 
 tendency of all improvements in guns, &c., is to make 
 defence in an increasing ratio more powerful than attack. 
 But the ultimate defence must be in man, for nations are 
 really strong not in machinery but in man. Their man- 
 hood must alone or chiefly determine their freedom and 
 independence. 
 
 " ' Peace at any price ' is but selfish indulgence at any 
 price. Liberty and self-government at any price I Life is 
 of no value without freedom." 
 
 To A. Strahai^, Esq. : — 
 
 " I so hate those 
 eternal love stories, this 
 everlasting craving after 
 a sweetheart ! I wish 
 the}'' would marry in the 
 first chapter, and be 
 done with it. Is there 
 nothing to interest human beinofs but marriafje ? 
 a fuss to make about 
 those two when in 
 love !" 
 
 What 
 
 To A. Strahan, Esq. : — 
 
 " Whatever may be my fault, it does not consist in my 
 chariot-wheels tarrying ; as the following statement will 
 prove : — 
 
 "■Friday, 31s^ Se2)tember. — Left Glasgow for Aberdeen 
 at nine, p.m., arrived at Aberdeen at three, A.M. 
 
 "Saturday, 1st October. — Left for Balmoral. Dined 
 with Her Majesty. 
 
 " October 2. — Preached a sermon on * War and God's 
 Judgments,' which the Queen asks me to publish, and to 
 dedicate to herself, as soon as possible — not a line having 
 been written. 
 
332 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " October 3. — Joined my wife in Pertlishire, dead beat. 
 
 "October 4. — Rested my chariot- wheels and greased 
 tliem. 
 
 " October 5. — Returned to Glasgow, and answered twenty 
 letters ; wrote long Minutes for Sealkote and Calcutta ; 
 had prayer-meeting in the evening. 
 
 " October 6. — Commanded by the Prince of Wales, and 
 left at seven, A.M., for Dunrobin, 220 miles off. Dined at 
 half-past nine, left the drawing-room at half-past one, A.M., 
 and smoking-room at half-past three. Left per train at 
 six, A.M., and never halted five minutes, being past time, 
 until I reached Glasgow at half-past six p.m. 
 
 " October 7. — A weary Saturday, to prepare two new 
 sermons for Sunday amidst manifold interrii})tions. 
 
 " October 8. — Preached twice. 
 
 " October 9. — Again dead beat, 
 and went to see my old mother 
 the first time for six weeks. 
 
 "October 10. — Returned, and 
 received a letter from a patient 
 friend, asking, ' Why tarry thy 
 chariot- wheels ?'!!!! 
 
 " Bother the chariot-wheels ! 
 
 " I am as nervous as an old 
 cat." 
 
 To A. StkaH-VN, Esq. : — 
 
 " I am more anxious about Good Words than per- 
 haps even you are. It is one of my 
 heaviest hourly worries, how little I 
 have been able to do it. As a })ublic 
 man I am worked from 6 A.M. till 10 p.m., 
 and if a man must be occupied twenty- 
 four hours in killing rats or ^'hinting 
 carrots it is practically the same to him, 
 
 a.s far as time is concerned, as if he were attacking 
 
 Paris." 
 
MODERATORSHIP AND PATRONAGE. 
 
 333 
 
 To his Eldest Son : — 
 
 1st December, 1870. 
 
 *' I was very glad, my boy, to hear from you, and that 
 you have told me so well and so fully all you are about. I 
 am quite satisfied with everything, and pray God that you 
 may be able to form those habits of study and of master- 
 ing difficulties, and of persevering in what may be uncon- 
 genial but necessary for you, all of which is of such im- 
 portance. You are, in fact, now moulding your whole future 
 life. May it be worthy ! Never, never forget your daily 
 dependence on God and His interest in you. The Stock- 
 port panic might have had a fearful ending, but it was 
 stopped in time — 3,000, three stories up, and but one 
 stair of outlet, with the panic of fire ! ^'' 
 
 " I am o-ivingr the last corrections to the sermon on war. 
 
 O O 
 
 When you read it, it will appear very simple to you, and 
 easily written. But it may encourage you to know that 
 this is the seventh time, at least, I have corrected it, and 
 each time just as fully as the previous one. So difficult 
 do I find it to write with tolerable accuracy. Begin 
 soon ! " 
 
 To Mrs. Warrick, New York. 
 
 Glasgorv, Decemher 15th, 1870. 
 
 " I heard all about j'our great sorrow, all those pleas- 
 ing yet harrowing details which make one realise the 
 whole scene. Such an affliction is to us a profound 
 mystery. This seems to me the lesson taught by the 
 
 * He refers to a panic wliicli took place while he was preaching at 
 Stockport on behalf of his Snnday School Union, when his presence of 
 mind and calmness did much to preserve oi'der. 
 
33+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Book of Job, for Job never found out in this world why 
 he had been afflicted, although he knew that it was not 
 because of his individual sins (and he was right), but in 
 order to bring out the reality of his life in God ; yet he 
 was left in darkness, and altht)ugh sons and daughters 
 were given him, the old dear ones were seen no more. 
 And there are like times of darkness in which the servant 
 of the Lord can see no light, but must be cast on the bare 
 arm of God for strength, and on the heart of God for 
 peace. Yet we can never be in such pitch darkness as 
 Job was, now that we see God's own beloved Son as 
 the man of sorrows ; and in Him have the assurance 
 given us of a Father Who will ever act as a Father even in 
 sending grief. Who never acts arbitrarily, but Who appeals 
 to the heart of the most tender and loving parent to judge 
 from his own truest affection towards his children, as to 
 what He, Who is perfect love, feels towards themselves. 
 Faith in this God is our only refuge and strength in times 
 of dark and mysterious sorrow. 
 
 " I am utterly powerless to help at Chicago. I 
 
 never directly or indirectly asked a favour small or great 
 from court or government, and never will. I am tongue- 
 tied and hand-tied ; having so much intercourse with 
 both, this seems strange, but it is a fact." 
 
CHAPTER XXTTL 
 1871—72. 
 
 THE last years of his life were marked by the 
 manner in which both his character and convic- 
 tions ripened. There was no diminution of the wealth 
 of his humour, and his enjoyment of outward things 
 was keen and fresh, though tinged with a certain 
 pensive and recurrent sadness. But as his health 
 became more broken, the sense of approaching age, 
 the brevity of the time given him to work seemed 
 continually present, and lent an increased earnest- 
 ness and thoughtful care to the fulfilment of the most 
 commonplace duty. He spoke and acted as one who 
 knew ' the time was short.' 
 
 His health was gradually but decidedly becoming 
 infirm. In the spring of 1871 he had so severe an 
 attack of his old enemy that he was for some time 
 confined to bed, and his strength was so much impaired 
 that his brother, Professor Macleod, forbade his under- 
 taking any engagements which implied fatigue. At 
 the end of April, on Sir William Jenner's advice, he 
 went to Ems, and for a time found much benefit from 
 rest and from the waters of the famous Briinnen. In 
 summer he and his family spent their holiday at 
 
336 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 Geddos, the early home of Mrs. Macleocl, and doubly 
 precious to him as associated with many memories 
 of John Mackintosh. It was a happy time, and ho 
 regained so much of his old health and spirits, that 
 ' on the return of the fomily to Glasgow he was able 
 to enter with considerable vigour on his winter's 
 work. 
 
 There were some things which specially coloured 
 his later thoughts. He was deeply moved by the 
 condition of religious belief in academic and literary 
 circles. As he had opportunities possessed by few 
 clergymen, of becoming acquainted with current 
 opinion, not merely from books, but by intercourse 
 with representative men, his interest in the reli- 
 gious difficulties of many scholars and thinkers was 
 proportionately keen. His anxieties regarding such 
 matters frequently found vent in lamentations over 
 the ignorance or indifference of ecclesiastics in Scot- 
 land as to all questions except the most trivial. 
 ' They are squabbling about the United Presbyterian, 
 Free Church, or Established, when the world is asking 
 whether Christ is risen from the dead ! ' 
 
 India and the condition of the heathen were sub- 
 jects which he was never weary of pondering by him- 
 self, or of discussing with his friends. The impression 
 his Eastern journey had made on him was profound, 
 and showed itself latterly in an incessant stud}" of the 
 problems which the spectacle of so many millions of 
 brothers and sisters living in heathendom suggested. 
 He had not looked on these millions with the eye of a 
 dogmatist who measures all he sees by the scale of a 
 hard, scholastic theory. He did not ask how they 
 
1871 — 72- 337 
 
 stood related to some theological tenet, but rather 
 ' What are these men and women to the living 
 God?' He had tried to understand the flesh and 
 blood affinities, the prejudices, difficulties, aspirations 
 of the Hindoo mind, and to comprehend as far as pos- 
 sible a humanity which had grown up under conditions 
 so different from those which had moulded his own. 
 The effect of all this was to lead him back to first 
 principles, to oblige him to deal with the mind of the 
 personal Saviour, as of more account than Church 
 formularies. His theology had ever been centred in 
 the character of God as revealed in Christ, and he 
 instinctively now referred every doubtful question to 
 this ultimate standard. ' Do you think it would bo 
 like Christ so to act?' or 'From all you know of 
 God, do you think it would be like Him to do that ? ' 
 — with such questions, as many of his hearers remem- 
 ber, it was his habit to clinch many an argument when 
 addressing his congregation in the Barony. To him 
 therefore it was anything but glad tidings to preach 
 to the educated natives of Hindostan that all their 
 parents and ancestors were suffering the pains of hell 
 because they had not believed in One of Whom they 
 had never heard, or to declare to them that their own 
 ultimate salvation depended on their acceptance of 
 some theory of atonement which was beset with intel- 
 lectual and moral difficulties. On behalf of England's 
 greatest dependency, he longed to see missionaries 
 intent upon bringing these human hearts into living 
 contact with the love, the holiness, the character of 
 Jesus Christ, and who would let the New Testament 
 speak its own language to their spirits, rather than 
 
 VOL. II. Z 
 
338 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD, 
 
 througli the medium of a system of theology. Such 
 reflections on the state of the heathen, inspired, as 
 they were, by love to man and firm reliance on the 
 righteousness and goodness of God, opened up to him 
 a new region of thought as to the character of the 
 future state, and the possibility of a gospel being 
 preached to those who, in this life, had never an 
 opportunity of accepting or rejecting the truth as it 
 is in Christ. 
 
 The following notes of a sermon preached in 
 September, 1871, indicate the tendency of his views 
 respecting the condition of the heathen beyond the 
 grave : — 
 
 " What is to become of those who never have heard 
 of, or have never had opportunities of hearing of God, 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghost — who have never heard 
 of that truth which to us is inseparable from all our 
 thoughts of salvation ? Of these there are millions upon 
 millions, thousands of millions who have since creation 
 lived and died, and passed away into the unseen. There 
 are hundreds of millions now alive in the same condition 
 in the kingdoms of heathendom : more numerous than any 
 human mind can conceive. In addition to these, there 
 are millions in Cliristendom who, from the circumstances 
 of their birth and up-bringing, are as practically ignorant, 
 who never had the means of making any conscious choice 
 between the claims of God on their afiection and 
 obedience, and the demands of sin and of e^'cry evil 
 passion — to whose thoughts it would make no practical 
 difference if all we know, love, and rejoice in regarding 
 God was never heard or known : no more than the ex- 
 tinction of the sun would make any practical difference to 
 a blind man's eye. Sucli a question is tremondous, pain- 
 ful, oppressive, often agonising — even when feebly under- 
 stood. We are disposed, from our utter inability to take 
 in its momentous importance, to make a positive efi'ort to 
 
iSyi — 72. 339 
 
 put it away. Such a fact as thousands of millions of 
 human beings existing now, and existing for eternity, some- 
 where, makes hardly an impression upon our minds. We 
 feel, in trying to realise it, as if the finite tried to compre- 
 hend the infinite, and so we dismiss the whole question. 
 But when the complex idea is resolved into its details ; 
 when we think of one human being, with all our own 
 powers and capacities for thinking, understanding, remem- 
 bering, anticipating, hoping, fearing, rejoicing, suffering, 
 being holy as a saint or wicked as a devil ; a being made 
 after God's image, and therefore so far divine ; an ob- 
 ject of more interest and importance to God his Maker 
 than the material universe ; and such a being growing 
 up from infancy with as distinct and individual a history 
 as ourselves, a being, too, who is for ever responsible, and 
 can for ever please God and meet His wishes, or the 
 reverse — then do we in some degree feel that any question 
 affecting him is not a question regarding a mere thing, 
 however interesting, like the preservation or destruction of 
 a great picture, a grand column, or stately palace, but 
 regarding a person, an immortal being, the noblest speci- 
 men of the art of God, the greatest building of His hands, 
 and intended to be a temple of the Holy Ghost. But 
 much more does our interest increase if we are personally 
 acquainted with such a being ; if we have come into con- 
 tact with him so as to realise fully our common humanity, 
 and to sympathize with his bodily sufferings or mental 
 sorrows. Yet what would our interest be if this persjon 
 were a father, or mother, or child, or our individual selves ! 
 We could not then think of such an one's fate for ever, as 
 we would that of a stone which, cast into the great deep, 
 sinks and passes at once out of sight and out of memory. 
 But what this unit is to us, each unit of the whole mass of 
 humanity, from Adam to the thousands who have been 
 born and died since we entered church, is inconceivably 
 more to God. Not one is lost to His sight, not one ever 
 becomes to Him of less importance as an immortal being ; 
 and just as we realise this, the question will press itself 
 with increasing force on us, what is to become of them ? 
 We cannot get quit of it. We may do so in regard to the 
 
 z 2 
 
340 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 race, but we cannot in regard to those units of which the 
 race is composed, and many a perplexed mind, and many 
 a weary, anxious heart yearns for an answer. 
 
 " Many object to bring such questions into the pulpit 
 at all. Is there not, it is asked, enough that is clear, 
 simple, and of infinite importance, sufficient to occupy with 
 profit the short time allotted on the Lord's-day for public 
 instruction, and for the conviction and conversion of sin- 
 ners now, without putting difficulties into people's minds, 
 or raising doubts which it may be impossible to dispel ? 
 I deeply sympathize with this, and my whole teaching 
 testifies to the sincerity of my sympathy, to the earnest- 
 ness of my desire that it should be simple and practical, 
 and to avoid as much as possible all doubtful disputa- 
 tions, and to aim constantly at one thing — to bring souls 
 to God. And I know well how superficially any such 
 questions can be dealt with in a sermon. But in these 
 days men need not avoid going to church to avoid doubts 
 being suggested. We have entered a period of active 
 thought, such as has not existed since the Reformation. 
 Theological questions on every tnith of Christianity are, 
 within the last few years, forced upon men's notice in 
 every periodical down to the daily papers. Men cannot 
 avoid them, but they may avoid church if no help 
 whatever is given to them there to solve their doubts, 
 and to guide them to truth, and to deal kindly and 
 candidly and intelligently with their difficulties. For such 
 difficulties many true Christians have little sympathy. 
 They have sympathy with struggles against evil deeds or 
 habits, but not with such doubts as bewildered the mind 
 of St. Thomas when he refused to believe in the resurrec- 
 tion. These Christians, by the mercy of God, have been 
 blessed with such a disposition, or have been placed in 
 such circumstances, whether of early up-bringing, or of 
 gospel preaching, as have enabled them to grow up 
 in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. But there 
 are others ditFerently placed, and if a minister can help 
 such inquirers ; if he can show them that he under- 
 stands thoir difficulties, if he feels with them as a brother, 
 if ho preaches not merely what is given him to utter, as if 
 
1871 — 72- 341 
 
 he were a machine, but what he believes and feels as one 
 who has to work his way through difficulties like others ; 
 if he has felt * the burden of the mystery ; ' if he can put 
 them in the way of getting the truth ; if, in short, he can 
 strengthen their faith in God and in Jesus as their teacher, 
 he will be of some use, and in spite of many defects and 
 even errors, be a true aid to his fellow men. 
 
 ". . . To believe that God should create by His 
 power millions of responsible beings, who are doomed to 
 agonies for ever for not believing or not being what, from 
 circumstances over which they had no control, they could 
 not believe or be, seems to many earnest minds quite im- 
 possible. 
 
 " . . . Is there, then, the possibility of the educa- 
 tion of human beings, of those at least who have never 
 had the means of knowing the truth, and of choosing be- 
 tween light and darkness, of believing in or neglecting 
 Christ, being continued after death ? Whatever weight is 
 attached to this reply, whatever deliverance it may afford 
 to distressed souls, whatever light it may cast on the 
 character and purposes of God as revealed in Christ (and 
 it is held by increasing numbers of the best men in this 
 and other ages of the Church), let us understand at least 
 what it means. It does not mean that there is not to 
 be a day of judgment, after which the fate of every indi- 
 vidual of the human family is to be finally determined. 
 But when is this period to dawn ? It may be thousands, 
 it may be millions of years ere the end comes when Christ 
 shall have delivered up the kingdom to God the Father. 
 Whatever may be done towards such human spirits as we 
 have spoken of, it is assumed to be before that. Nor does 
 it mean that any man can be saved here or afterwards in 
 a way essentially different from that in which he is saved 
 now, except it may be by severer chastisement and a more 
 trying discipline. It assumes that there is a connec- 
 tion unchangeable and eternal as the law or character of 
 God, between sin and spiritual suffering. This must show 
 itself in the want of peace, joy, hope, and all that glory of 
 character for which man was created, and in the ravages' 
 of spiritual disease, in deformity of soul, in blindness, deaf- 
 
342 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 ness, and moral decrepitude. Consequently, come when it 
 may, in this world or the next ; or how it may, by teaching 
 or by chastisement ; or when it may, in three score and 
 ten years or in hundreds of years, there must be a con- 
 viction of sin as sin, a repentance towards God, a seeing 
 His love, and a choice of Himself as God, throu.i^h the 
 redemption that is in Christ Jesus, before salvation is 
 possible. 
 
 ". . . But it is asked what there is in Scripture 
 to forbid the belief which a sense of God's love of 
 righteousness in them craves for, that, may he, the term 
 of education with millions of the heathen and of the igno- 
 rant, who have been neglected by selfish men, may not 
 terminate with three score and ten years ? It is not said 
 that it must be so, but it is alleged that, for aught we 
 know, it may be so. We are reminded that each person 
 as he dies lives on — seen and known by God., and is the 
 object of His interest somewhere — that wherever he is he is 
 as responsible there as here ; and it is asked whether that, 
 to us unseen, — but to them most real, state of being, — 
 as real as if it existed in a material world like this, — is 
 necessarily an abode of hopeless unmitigated woe for such 
 persons as I have alluded to ; whether God's infinite 
 resources are at an end in recfard to them, and whether 
 truth may not be made known there which was never 
 heard here — a God revealed who was unknown here, a 
 Saviour proclaimed with a fuhiess, tenderness, love, and 
 all sufficiency. Who was never once preached to them here ; 
 and whether, as the result of this, the kingdom of God may 
 not yet come in a way that we never dreamt of — and, 
 alas ! never in our wretched and degraded feebleness and 
 unbelief ever laboured for ? 
 
 " Many reject this thought. I remember the time when 
 ministers could entertain the idea of God condemning an 
 infant to eternal misery from its connection with Adam 
 — an opinion which is as horrible as any occurring in 
 Brahminism. 
 
 " Who would not wish the hope, whose character I have 
 sketched, to be true ? Who would not feel a great relief if 
 they only saw that it may be true ? . . . I have some 
 
iSyi — 72. 343 
 
 sympathy witli the fanatic Communist who calmly stands to 
 be shot, shouting, ' Let me perish, if humanity is saved ! ' 
 I may not see how, without faith in God the Father, 
 or in Christ the Brother, he can obtain any true idea of 
 humanity as a unity, or any real love to it ; but still there 
 is something grand in such an idea rising higher than his 
 personal love of life. But where is there similar grandeur 
 in him who, professing to have this faith, has not only lost 
 all hope of humanity as a whole, but rests contented in 
 his hopelessness ; who seems to think that any such hope 
 of the probable salvation of others through Jesus perils his 
 own, and looks with nervous fear and jealousy at the 
 thought of any future opening of the door of the awful 
 prison-house to deliver a penitent soul, Avho never in life 
 had heard of Christ, as if this made it possible that a door 
 might be opened for his own fall ; who, in spite of all his 
 defects, all his sins, all his greed, all his heartlessness, 
 all his seliishuess, has hope through the long suftering, 
 forbearance, and patience of God, and who yet feels in- 
 different or indignant at the thought of there being possi- 
 bly ways and means for this same God acting in mercy to 
 millions of miserable prodigals who never had his light — 
 a man who cries out, not like the Communist, ' Perish 
 myself, but live humanity,' but, 'Perish humanity, if I 
 live myself ! ' 
 
 "But the view I speak of may be dismissed by the 
 one assertion that it is contrary to Scripture. If so, it 
 is not worthy of the consideration of those who acknow- 
 ledge, as I do, the supreme authority of the word of God. 
 But Christian teachers hold it who would sooner give up 
 their Hfe than the authority of Scripture. They think 
 that the passages which seem to forbid the thought have 
 reference to what is to happen after judgment only. 
 
 " The possibility of such an education beyond the grave 
 is also what the early Church and many since believed to 
 be the only possible meaning that could be attached to 
 the preaching to the spirits that are in prison, and which 
 has found a place in the creed of Christendom in the 
 article, ' He descended into hell,' to the unseen regions, 
 or the world of spirits. . . ." 
 
344 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To Dr. John Macleod Campbell : — 
 
 March 16, 1871. 
 
 " It was so kind of you, and therefore so like yourself, 
 to have taken tlie trouble to write to me. There is no 
 one living who can so minister to me as you can. You 
 always find my spirit, and enter into me, while others only 
 touch me. I therefore feel towards you as to no one else, 
 both as friend and teacher. If ever you have seed you 
 wish to sow in a soil that will receive it and keep it, 
 please cast it this way. Oh, that you sent rae now and 
 then a few life thoughts ! How precious would they be ! 
 
 " I have had a shai-p and very painful attack of gout 
 with sciatica as an interlude, and other pains for a 
 change. This is the first day I have been out, for a 
 drive ; and the blue sky and budding earth came stream- 
 ing in as a hfe-joy to my heart, which showed that the 
 ved was lifted up which had been conceahng from miO 
 things beautiful, ' for I saw nor felt how beautiful they 
 were.' I cannot say that spiritual reahties were vividly 
 present to me durmg my illness ; but I always felt God as 
 a living atmosphere around me, and I was filled with 
 peace. The lesson I think He is teaching me is to take 
 more care in glorifying Him in the body, and to make my 
 common life of work more religious by my hving more 
 quietly, patiently, and obediently. One result of this edu- 
 cation is, that I have resolved not to go to Lord Lome's 
 marriage. This is a great loss in very many ways to me, 
 as I have been asked to be a guest at Windsor ; but my 
 brother George says ' No,' and so I say 'Amen !' and feel at 
 rest. When the Communion is over, I shall probably go 
 to some Spa abroad, and drown the enemy if possible. I 
 am too easily bothered and upset by even trifling Avork. 
 When I was confined to bed, I read and was fascinated by 
 Hutton's * Theological Essays.' To me, reading such a book 
 is an era. He has such a firm intellectual grip with one 
 hand of the true scientific aspects of questions, and Avith 
 the other holds fast, with true spiritual insight, to his 
 position of ' God in Clirist.' With his anchor fast Avithin 
 the veil, he SAvinfjfs round and round Avith a lon-j^ cable, 
 but always round the centre. I think it a great contribu- 
 
1871—72. 345 
 
 tion to tlie times, but I cannot understand liow lie should 
 not welcome your views of the atonement, as they seem to 
 me to harmonize so beautifully with his principles and his 
 views of truth. I am glad that he adheres to the fourth 
 Gospel. 
 
 " What a mystery is this slow — to us, slow — growth in 
 the education of the world ! It would be to me still more 
 mysterious, if it were not to be continued till Christ delivers 
 up the kingdom. ' Then cometh the end.' When — what ? 
 No doubt to the glory of God in a way and measure such as 
 to overpower the minds and hearts of the whole family of 
 God. I wait in the full assurance of faith. How strange, 
 too — how long the clouds Imger in the blue sky, which 
 nevertheless are as surely passing away as morning mists 
 before His love. It is sweet to think that such darkness 
 conceals us not from the Light of Life. But the common 
 notion of the punishment of hell fire, and for all eternity ; 
 the punishment of all who have not been elected, and have, 
 for Adam's sin, been justly left dead without an atonement ; 
 the atonement itself as explained by hyper-Calvinists ; the 
 utter impossibility of any teaching or salvation after death 
 (how we may not see) ; these, and the whole complicated 
 system of sacerdotalism and popery, seem to me a thousand 
 times doomed. And yet, God is so wise, so charitable, so 
 patient, such a Father, that even by these ideas, or in spite 
 of them, He will educate man for ' the fulness of time,' the 
 grand 'end!' I feel more and more the simplicity and 
 grandeur and truth of Luther's idea of faith — to be an out 
 and out child ; to be nothing, that God may be all, not 
 only for us, but in us ; and, perhaps more than Luther 
 would admit, to choose this — and to choose it not only 
 once for all (a mighty choice !), but always and in all 
 things — what strength and peace ! I know the lesson, 
 but it seems to me that I have never learned it. And 
 heaven would be heaven, were it nothing more than its 
 being the finishing of our education by the perfect utterance 
 of ' Our Father.' " 
 
346 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his Jottrnal : — 
 
 " April dth. — This is Communion Sunday — Easter Sun- 
 day. I conducted the service in the forenoon. I am at 
 home for the rest of the day. 
 
 " The winter's work has been chiefly preaching. I ex- 
 changed with Donald, and preached the Temptation ser- 
 mons in Park Church, he preaching for me for live Sundays. 
 Had pleasant district meetings, with a new plan of inviting 
 the members to tea. This has helped to unite us. I 
 hare raised by personal application every farthing for 
 Bluevale Church, now £2,100, and it will soon be the 
 £2,500. I profoundly feel that this, hke all done by 
 me, is God's domg, certainly not mine. Our organ has 
 been given by kind, good James Baird, and a memorial 
 window by Mrs. George Grant. I am deeply thankful that 
 the number of my communicants has been greater than 
 
 usual, new ones eighteen, and among them my dear . 
 
 Oh! what a joy it is to see my beloved children, one after 
 the other, thus in simpHcity of faith publicly accepting of 
 the Saviour. God's Spirit has surely been with them since 
 birth. I don't think they have been converted by any 
 sudden change. They seem to me as growing up in the fiiith, 
 being educated gradually by the Spirit. They are full of 
 life, energy, and happiness, and will probably have to pass 
 through trials in which their true life will be deepened. 
 They little know how happy they are, and in what domestic 
 sunshine they have Hved. God bless them, darlings, in 
 the bonds of Christ. 
 
 " I have published in Good Words my War sermon and 
 my Temptation sermons. The Peace Society seem to dis- 
 like me. We don't comprehend each other. They think 
 me blind, and I think them silly. 
 
 "I have been reading Button's 'Essays' with great 
 delight. His great defect is ignoring the Holy Spirit, or 
 not connecting Him, as he does the Eternal Son, with one 
 eternal abiding reality. 
 
 " I have been much distressed about our Indian Mis- 
 sion. Within a few weeks we have had many losses ; but 
 God will certainly provide. We are deep in debt. We want 
 men and money ; from whom but One can we get both ? 
 
1871—72- 347 
 
 " The war! tbe Reds and Assembly now fighting. Of 
 course the Commune must go down, or France as a nation 
 must. What next? Monarchy before long. But the character 
 of the people has been ruined and requires a national 
 restoration of princij)le, of patriotism, of unselfishness ; the 
 destruction of a sensual, vain, irreverent, and cruel spirit. 
 The French need to be Puritanised, if that is possible, or 
 even Teutonised. It will take two generations of peace, 
 education, and a firm, wise, truthful, and powerful govern- 
 ment to do this. Where are the governors ? Where are 
 those who will be governed ? Unless a nation is religiously 
 educated, it is gone. I fear our own may sufier from 
 secularists and Comtists," 
 
 The following letter was written in reply to some 
 inquiries which were made regarding a young clergy- 
 man who was a candidate for a parish. Among other 
 questions Dr. Macleod was asked whether he had any 
 faults. 
 
 " . . . . Mr. , when with me, was very earnest 
 
 in the discharge of his duties, remarkably successful in 
 impressing the working classes, and in bringing very many 
 not only to the church, but I believe to God. ... I do 
 not say but that he may have defects which some nice 
 critics might possibl}^ detect, although they are so small 
 as not to be worth mentioning ; but if he were perfect, he 
 would be more fit for heaven than the parish of " 
 
 To Mr. Simpson, at Messrs. Blackwood and Sons : — 
 
 May 8, 1871. 
 
 " I have the pleasure of sending you my first por- 
 tion of MS. of the Indian Mission Report. A single 
 glance will convince you of one fact, and to be assured of 
 the truth of even one fact is in my opinion a great gain 
 in these days, when a man is thought a conservative bigot 
 who believes beyond doubt that 2 + 2=4. The fact 
 I allude to is, that my hand has not improved with age 
 
348 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 and experience. As Falstaft' says, 'thou knowest thine 
 old ward,' that is, my old hand, and it will be some 
 advantage to the mission if any of your devils share your 
 knowledge. 
 
 " I know a man who was so disgusted with some ' proofs ' 
 which he had received, that he coumienced a course of 
 study on printing by ordering ' MacEwan on the Types.' 
 I never heard what effect it had on him. 
 
 " I shall send you more as soon as possible — I mean 
 MS. which might be interpreted, ' more scribbling.' " 
 
 To his Mother :— 
 
 Ems, May 7, 1871. 
 
 " What misery you must be enduring, and no wonder ! 
 
 Here am I, gone off for the first time in my life — poor 
 
 little boy ! and across the wild ocean, and 
 
 to !-avage people, not to return for ten 
 
 long, long years ! Oh it's sad ! sad ! 
 
 " A sky of perfect blue, warm sunshine, 
 but a chill in the shade, an east-wind feel, 
 telling that summer is not yet begun. But the woods 
 
 are green, the birds sing- 
 ing, and the cuckoo toll- 
 ing through the glens. 
 
 " I don't feel better, 
 for to tell the truth I 
 did not feel ill imme- 
 diately before leaving. 
 But I feel well, peaceful, 
 happy, and I believe 
 after a month will re- 
 turn Avith good spirit for 
 fair honest work, not 
 extra. 
 
 " I have finished ' Lo- 
 thair,' which I have read 
 for the first time. It is 
 nothing as a story, or rather it is miserably ill put toge- 
 ther, but it contains a series of most interesting pictures 
 
iSyi — 72. 349 
 
 of life. I have no interest in the hero, he is a mere bit of 
 fine red wax, impressed by every new seal. The best thing 
 in the book is the exposure of the tricky and clever way 
 of Rome in making converts. 
 
 " Now my dear, are you amazed we had no hurricane ? 
 No accidents ? No sore backs or broken heads ; but that 
 we eat, sleep, and thoroughly enjoy ourselves, and have 
 now but one wish, to be back soon among you all." 
 
 To his Mother :— 
 
 Ems, May 17, 1871. 
 
 " It is interesting to see the wounded soldiers walking 
 about here with their iron crosses. The leader of the 
 band has one. He led the band of t^^-^ Guards as they 
 marched into battle at Gravelotte. A hue old fellow was 
 drinking at the spring yesterday. A ball had passed 
 into his breast and out at his back at Spicheren. 
 
 " A very nice fellow was dressed in faded uniform, 
 sitting behind his counter, with such a blithe face. He 
 had come back the day before to wife and children. His 
 next neighbour, landlord of the Golden Vine, who was 
 engaged to our landlady's daughter, lies buried where 
 he feU. 
 
 " A noble-looking Uhlan officer who walks about, was 
 surrounded with his troop. The French officer ran a 
 lance through his coat only. The lance broke, and he 
 shot the ofhcer, and returned with the lance hanging in 
 his clothes. 
 
 " I never saw more modest, unassuming men." 
 
 To Dr. Watson : — 
 
 Ems, May, 1871. 
 
 " I have been fairly settled here for two days only, living 
 in lodgings, rising at 6.30, drinking, morning and evening, 
 half-boiled soda water from a Brunnen ; taking baths 
 every second day, walking two hours, watching roulette, 
 and rejoicing in the losses of the fools who stake their 
 money ; reading novels (Lothair for the first time), and 
 all with balmy air and a quiet conscience. I am as yet 
 
350 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 mucli as I was when I left home, well, but heavy in the 
 legs, and gouty. But I have no doubt I shall be all right 
 and cheery yet. 
 
 " My great anxiety is our Mission. 
 
 " Holland is in a horrid state, a hundred and sixty-five 
 parishes vacant, no clergy to fill thera. Rationalism reigns. 
 The national system of education is rearing a godless people. 
 The teaching of national history even is forbid, as the history 
 of the national struggles against Rome would oifend the 
 Papists. May heaven confound their politics ! " 
 
 To the Same : — 
 
 "Your letter did me more good than a hogshead of 
 M's or N's water. A thousand thanks for it. Of course 
 I am anxious about the India Mission Report. I may 
 have to resign the Convenership. But I leave my honour 
 in your hands, and give you full authority to give in my 
 resignation when j^ou give in your own. I will not carry 
 out a different policy from the present. I could not. 
 My judgment would not go with it. So fiir from losing 
 heart, one result of restored health, should God grant it, 
 will, I firmly and gladly hope, be to let me loose again for 
 a season through the chief towns in Scotland, and to 
 address the students, on behalf of the Mission. ' We 
 believe, and therefore speak.' 
 
 " I deeply feel with you that unless we get such 
 men as Jardine, Wilson, Grant, it will be vain to sow 
 seeds in India which will produce the Church of the 
 future. An American clergyman told me yesterday that 
 Puritan (once) New England is now becoming the hot- 
 bed for atheism and Popery. I pray God we may be able 
 to help to save Scotland from a similar re-action, which 
 the union of the F. and U. P. Churches would develop 
 more rapidly. I don't fear disestablishment ; but so long 
 as there is a clerical order of men, who may beg, but are 
 not allowed to dig, I fear an uneducated and low-bred 
 clergy." 
 
1871—72. 3SI 
 
 To his Mother : — 
 
 Ems, May 31, 1871. 
 
 " I did not tell you I had crossed to London. I 
 heard, en route, a night service in Cologne Cathedral. 
 There were 2,000 people present, a mere handful in that 
 huge pile. The sermon was quite like a Gaelic one, 
 preached by a hot old Ross-shire minister, in Avhich tlie 
 glories of Rome took the place of the glories of the 
 Kirk and its principles. All other parties were of course 
 anathematised. The people were deeply earnest. After 
 the sermon, a glorious simple hymn was sung, led by the 
 organ, and by female or boys' voices only. The last rays 
 of evening were lighting up the exquisite old windows 
 high up in the nave, and casting on the pillars, Avhose tops 
 were lost in darkness, marvellous colours of every hue ; 
 below Avas the dark silent mass of worshij)pers. Lights 
 were on the altar, above which was the tawdry image 
 — so like Lidia ! — of Virgin and Child. Under the altar 
 were the famous ' Kings of Cologne,' who had paid homage 
 to Christ, the ' Magi,' all telling of mediaeval stories, 
 belonging to a world jjassing away ; but all was lost to 
 me in those angelic strains that warbled here and there as 
 they seemed to wander along the fretted roof, coming 
 you knew not from whence. An old priest before the 
 altar then repeated various prayers, the commandments, 
 &c., to which Amens were given, that were repeated like 
 the murmurs of the sea, from the large conofreo-ation. 
 The holy sacrament was exhibited, and all knelt in silent 
 devotion, and then departed. What a strange world is 
 
 this J Not one there ever heard of G or B ! 
 
 and yet Scotland, if true to God, and not to its Church 
 only, will help to blow up Rome, otherwise Rome will 
 blow it up." 
 
 " I am not so very sad now. My spirits rise sometimes 
 in proportion to real difficulties, and I feel anxious to 
 enter on India Mission work with renewed vigour." 
 
352 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 To Dr. "Watson : — 
 
 Ems, June 5, 1S71. 
 
 " I liave been greatly worried day and night Avith the 
 India Mission. What speeches have I made about it ! 
 And so it is that I have got the old gout back, and can 
 hardly crawl. Why do I bother myself? Why do I 
 think ? It is in my blood — bone of my bone ; it came 
 with my father and mother and all my forbears, and must 
 die with me ; but it is not to every one I can lay bare 
 my feelings. On thy calm devoted head I can discharge 
 my lightning, and roar like thunder, or bray like an ass. 
 So I am thankful I was not in the Assembly. I would 
 have gone wild, and been sorry for it next morning. 
 The cause was in better and wiser hands when in thine." 
 
 From his Jouenal : — 
 
 Geddes, Septemler 14, 1S71. 
 " Early in May we went to Ems by the advice of Sir 
 William Jenner. The back-bone of that journey is 
 recorded in Good Words. We were very happy. Dear 
 Nommey went with us. The Van Loons were very 
 kind to us. The General Assembly, and its ignorant treat- 
 ment of the Indian Mission, has given me some trouble, 
 and if God spares me, I shall in a long and possibly final 
 speech in the next General Assembly, defend it with all my 
 might from these attacks." 
 
 One of the few public meetings which he attended 
 this year was the Scott Centenary, held in Glasgow in 
 August. The address recently given to the British 
 Association by its distinguished president — his 
 esteemed friend Sir William Thomson — respecting 
 the meteoric origin of the germs from which vegetable 
 and animal life have been evolved, was then exciting 
 considerable comment, and it provoked him to indulge 
 on this occasion in some quiet banter, which no one 
 of the audience enjoyed more than Sir W^illiam. 
 
1871—72. 353 
 
 " It is not for me," he saiJ, " to account for the genesis 
 of that marvellous literature, so prolific as to have multi- 
 plied and replenished the earth. Instructed by science, I 
 dare not seek its origin in the creative mind of Scott ; 
 yet, as it is a literature so full of life, it must, I suppose, 
 have come from life somewhere. Will my illustrious 
 friend, the President of the British Association — for 
 whom my highest admiration and deepest affection are 
 divided — pardon an ignoramus like me, if I start an 
 hypothesis to account for those extraordinary phenomena ? 
 Is it not possible, I timidly ask, that some circulating 
 library, or, more correctly speaking, some library circu- 
 lating through endless space — some Kterary meteoric 
 group of ' Mudies ' and ' Maclehoses ' was broken up — and 
 that the shreds of tlie exploded leaves fell on Ben Nevis 
 or the Braes of Lochaber, accompanied, perhaps, by the 
 shivered fragments, from a distant Highland world, of bag- 
 pipes and claymores and ' spleuchans ' and kilts, and that 
 out of them sprang ' Waverley,' and that this product 
 ' \yaverley ' selected, very naturally, the Avest of Scotland 
 in which to evolve sundry other novels of that ilk? "* 
 
 * A friend who was an hah if ue of the 'back study' relates, that 
 shortly before the speech was delivered, the « meteoric theory ' was 
 there discussed, especially with reference to the reception it had met 
 with from newspaper critics, who seemed to be unanimous in holding 
 that it only removed the difficulty as to the orio;in of life a stage back. 
 Norman's friend, in a note which he sent to a local journal and which 
 was read in the ' back study,' contended that this ciiticism was unfair, 
 inasmuch as the difficulty was not only removed farther back, but 
 removed out of this world altogether, and after having bothered our 
 savants for ages, would now have to be taken up by thu Association 
 for the Promotion of Science in one of the other planets. Tickled by 
 this suggestion, and marching up and down the room, Norman 
 dictated a P.S. to be appended to the nnte. 
 
 " Perhaps the men of science would do well, in accordance wth 
 these latest results, to rewrite the first chapter of Genesis m this 
 way :— 
 
 1. The earth was without form and void. 
 
 2. A meteor fell upon the earth. 
 
 3. The result was fish, flesh, and fowl. 
 
 4. From these proceeded the British Association. 
 
 o. And the British Association pronounced it all tolerably good !" 
 
 VOL. 11. A A . 
 
354 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 From his JOURNAL : — 
 
 Geddes, September 14, 1871. 
 
 " Thank God for this peace ! I have had a most 
 blessed time here — the more blessed because, as I 
 had anticipated, it made my own dear one so happy. 
 No Avonder ! It has been like a resurrection of old 
 friends of the family, rich and jioor. The kindness 
 from all has been quite overpowering. I tliank God 
 that my children, who have been all I could wish — have 
 had proof of the deep affection and respect in which 
 their grandfather and grandmother have been held. It 
 is most touching, and immensely gratifying — a great 
 reward for their goodness — to hear their jiraises spoken of 
 by every one with a pathos and touching heartiness wliich 
 is most pleasing. I cannot tell what a marvellous gift 
 Geddes has been to me. It has made our own John 
 literally alive again. I have preached twice here, and 
 given an Indian address, and raised £40. I have 
 preached with great delight twice in the School House. 
 I wish daily to reveal the Father to His children. It is 
 such light, such freedom, such a binding power ! 
 
 " We have sung, danced, and played croquet. I have 
 written ' Major Fraser.' 
 
 " God reconciles all in Himself. 
 
 " Oh, my Father, thanks — thanlvS be to Thee ! 
 
 " We leave to-morrow. I lament nothing. I thank 
 God for everything. His goodness is overpowering. I 
 do know how good He is ! " 
 
 "WHiile at Gcddos the memory of John Mackintosh 
 seemed continually with him as a sweet and refresh- 
 ing presence. One of his first walks was to a spot 
 closely associated with him, and he used to tell the 
 overpowering effect it had, when, as he was sitting 
 there wi'apt in quiet thought, he heard the wild sad 
 notes of the bag-pipe playing ' Mackintosh's Lament ' 
 — one of the most beautiful, as it was now the most 
 appropriate of pibrochs. The family usually spent 
 
1871 — 72- 355 
 
 the evening in the hall, off which opened the door 
 of what had been John Mackintosh's room; and 
 when his children were dancing reels, he would often 
 sit watching them, lost in quiet thought, the past and 
 present mingling without discord, and feeling how 
 ' God reconciled all things in Himself.' The follow- 
 ing impromptu lines express the character of these 
 musings : — 
 
 IN MEMOEIAM OF "THE EAENEST STUDENT." 
 
 (iMPEOMPTtr.) 
 
 In the hall was dancing and singing, 
 My children were brimful of joy. 
 I sat there alone, and in shadow, 
 Near his room dreaming about him 
 Who there long had laboured and prayed, 
 Where angels saw heaven and earth meeting 
 In the heart of that true child of God, — 
 The bright, the unselfi.'li, and joj'ous! 
 And the chill winds of .aitumn were moaning 
 Through the pines, down his favourite walks ; 
 But the stars were out brightly shining, 
 And one brighter than all was above. 
 I dreamt of those last days of sickness. 
 Of his patience, his meekness, and love, 
 Of the calm of his summer twilight, 
 Of the midnight before the bright day. 
 As I gazed at that chamber long empty. 
 In this home, his heaven when on earth, 
 It was strange, it was terribly awing, 
 To think of him now lying dead ! 
 Dead as the granite that heavily 
 Covered him with the stones and clay I 
 That heart of the laughing and loving 
 In a cold leaden coffin lying stOl ! 
 That heart to which all that was truest 
 And pure was a well-spring of joy. 
 Yonder twenty long years lying buried. 
 Yet for twenty long years still living 
 Elsewhere in the home of his Father ! 
 Ah, where was he now, in what mansion, 
 In what star of the infinite sky ? 
 Whom had he met since we parted, 
 Since the night when we bade him farewell ? 
 What since had he seen, was he seeing ? 
 A A 2 
 
35^^ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 What since had he done, was he doinc; ? 
 
 With ■wliom had he spoke, was he spo^ikiii'j? 
 
 Did ho tliink of ns here, and remember 
 
 Those he never forgot when on earth ? 
 
 Was ho here with the mini.stering angels 
 
 In the hall of his oarlj' doad lioine !' 
 
 Ah, what would ho think of our evenings. 
 
 Our evenings so morrily spout!"' 
 
 Could his heart now feel holy sorrow. 
 
 With his faith and love perfect in God ? 
 
 Could his heavenly sunshine be shadowed, 
 
 Beholding these forms of earth's gladness 
 
 'Midst the sin and the sufferings of life ? 
 
 Would ho wonder that we could be happy. 
 
 And his and our Saviour still waiting 
 
 To see joy from his anxious soul-travail. 
 
 And the true life of God in the world P 
 
 Ah ! that dear one would bear oui' weakness. 
 
 Our sleep 'midst the glories around, 
 
 Our blindness to all he rejoiced in, 
 
 Our slowness to learn from our Loi d ! 
 
 As I gazed at his room, now silent, 
 
 The sweet life he then lived recalling, 
 
 Him laughing and playing with children 
 
 Telling tales to them, singing them songs; 
 
 His true soul in harmony chiming 
 
 With all the arrangements of God ; 
 
 I awoke from my dream, yet saying, 
 
 In anguish, " My lovo, thou art dead ! 
 
 Thou art dead to us twenty long yeai si" 
 
 Then I said, " No, my love is living ; 
 
 For is he not part of our being. 
 
 And with us wherever we are ; 
 
 And are not all ' together with God ' — 
 
 With Himself the life of the living I " 
 
 If we saw thee once more among ns, 
 
 We would fly to thine arms entwining. 
 
 And thy smiles as of old would web-oiuo. 
 
 With the old voice of love only sweeter. 
 
 And the bright eyes of love only bright' r 
 
 All lovely I see thee among us. 
 
 And hear thy loved accents again ; 
 
 In my calmed heart whisjici'ing gently, 
 
 *' These joys are all gifts from our Fatlier, 
 
 liut our Father Himself is aU." 
 
 Now all are at rest. It is midnight — 
 How dead is the hall and how silent ! 
 The night winds still sadly are moaning, 
 But the stars are .still brightly shining. 
 Still o'er all is the bright light of God ! 
 
1871—72. 357 
 
 To Mrs. MACLEOD : — 
 
 BAIiMORAL, Oct., 1871. 
 
 " I preaclied extempore, on ' Our Father which art 
 in Heaven,' and on the education of men beyond the 
 grave. I fear I shocked not a few — I hope I did so for 
 good. 
 
 " We have here Helps and Mr. Forster, M.P., and we 
 have had tremendous theological talks till 2 a.m. I keep 
 my own not amiss. I have the greatest possible respect 
 for Forster's abilities and truthfulness. Would God we 
 could lose our Calvinism, and put all the teaching of 
 Christ and His apostles in a form according to fact and not 
 theory. ' Our Father ' is the root of all religion and 
 morality, and can be seen with the spirit, rather than the 
 mere intellect. 
 
 " The Queen has asked me to remain till to-morrow. 
 I hope to have another set-to with the M.P. He seems 
 to expect the same, as he said ' Hurrah ! ' when I told 
 him I was to remain." 
 
 From his JotjrnaI; : — 
 
 " January. — I have lost much to my memory, already 
 failing from a multiplicity of objects, in having recorded 
 so little about '71. 
 
 " I have been very steadily at home since September, 
 and my every day occupied with those details of public 
 and private life which, although important at the time and 
 demanding patience and forethought, and bringing usual 
 cares and worries, soon pass, like the seas which a vessel 
 meets every ten minutes, that hit her, splash over her, 
 make her shiver, and are forgotten. My life is strangely 
 broken into small parts, and as this is God's will, I must 
 submit, and make the best of it. 
 
 " Events ! what are they ? None ! Addressing meet- 
 ings and soirees in my own parish, preaching, finishing 
 Bluevale Church, directing India Mission, writing letters 
 innumerable, visiting sick, writing nonsense for Good Words 
 for the Young — doing everything and doing nothing. 
 Stanley has been with me." 
 
358 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 The hymn ' Trust in God and do the Eight,' 
 which had been written in 1858, was not published 
 in Good Words until January, 1872. On its appear- 
 ance there a writer in a local paper charged Dr. 
 Macleod with plagiarism from an American hymn- 
 writer, stating that he had in his possession a volume, 
 compiled by Philip Philips, of Hymns by American 
 Authors, in which these words occurred; that this 
 volume was in cii'culation a considerable time before 
 this number of Good Words appeared. A friend hav- 
 ing sent this criticism to Dr. Macleod, the following 
 letter was sent in reply : — 
 
 Friday. 
 
 " I received your note with extract from a Paisley 
 newspaper last night on my return from Liverpool. I 
 think the critic might have done me the justice of send- 
 ing me a copy of his remarks. But this has too often 
 been my experience of writers in newspaj^ers. They 
 seldom take the trouble to let you know what they have 
 been publishing against you ; I have seen letters and 
 criticisms founded upon the most absurd assumptions weeks 
 after they were published, and, of course, never contradicted. 
 In regard to the verses in question it is quite clear that 
 some Yankee in his zeal for hymnology has neither trusted 
 God nor done the right, but trusted to a lie and done the 
 wrong. These verses of mine were first published at the 
 end of a lecture given to the young men at Exeter Hall in 
 1858. The music was composed by Sullivan expressly for 
 the words. But it is perfectly possible that some spiri- 
 tualist hymn-writer in America may have written the same 
 words, composing the same music, using Mr. Philip Philips 
 as his medium. After all, such barefaced stealing is too 
 bad. 
 
 " Make any use of this you please." 
 
 As he had always practised strict reticence regard- 
 
1871—72. 35Q 
 
 ing all matters connected with tlie Court, and heartily 
 hated that gossip which the public craves for only too 
 greedily, he was not a little surprised and annoyed to 
 find a few kindly words he had spoken off-hand at the 
 laying of a foundation-stone at Lenzie, near Glasgow, 
 made the occasion for a grossly personal attack on the 
 part of some of the English newspapers. The insinua- 
 tion as to his using flattery for selfish objects was too 
 offensive to be publicly noticed by him, but he was 
 none the less gratified by the manner in which he 
 was vindicated by other representatives of the press. 
 
 To Mr. Hedderwick, Editor of the Olasgoio Citizen : — 
 
 Januanj, 1872. 
 
 " I have just read your generous defence of me against 
 the most untrue and malicious attacks of the newspapers. 
 The fact is that during the thirteen or fourteen years in 
 which I have been in close contact with the Royal Family, 
 I have carefully avoided ever speaking about them in 
 public, and in private only to intimate friends. Yet I 
 have often felt my heart burning in listening to all 
 the wild lies told about them. These, my only two 
 speeches, were purely accidental, and almost forced upon 
 me. 
 
 " At Lenzie I forgot there were reporters in the room, 
 and was suddenly called upon by the chairman to confirm 
 the account he gave of the Queen's health ; and a minute 
 before I spoke I had as much intention of doing so as of 
 seeking to be knighted. So it was in the Presbytery — I 
 was not aware the topic was to be introduced. Dr. M. 
 was speaking about it as I entered. He stopped, and 
 called on me to propose it, and I did so without one 
 minute's preparation. To flatter majesty is gross im- 
 pertinence. As to being knighted, thank God the 
 Queen herself cannot bestow any honour of the kind on a 
 Scotch clergyman. No possible favour can she grant me, 
 
360 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 or houoiir bestow, beyond wliut the poor can give the pooi 
 — her friendship. 
 
 " Yours gratefully, 
 
 " N. Macleod. 
 " I never asked a favour from the Queen or Government 
 since I was born." 
 
 The improvement which his sojourn at Ems and the 
 summer's rest at Geddes had wrought on his health 
 was unfortunately of short duration. Before mid- 
 winter was reached, and in spite of his taking the utmost 
 care in avoiding unnecessary engagements, his work 
 began to tell heavily upon him, and he assumed a 
 wearied and broken-down aspect. Labour which 
 before sat lightly on him, was now exhausting toil, 
 and an increasing sense of depression weighed on his 
 spirits. The most ominous and distressing symptom 
 was the restlessness which he experienced whenever 
 he retii'ed for the night, and which prevented him 
 enjoying sleep for more than a quarter of an hour 
 at a time. Though happily unaccompanied by pain, 
 this usually lasted till morning, and became so trying, 
 that in order to humour it he generally passed the 
 night on the sofa in his dressing-room. A volume 
 of Alison's ' History of Europe ' and Gurwood's 
 ' Sketches ' lay on the mantel-piece, and the long 
 hours, broken by brief snatches of sleep, were spent 
 in reading the accounts of campaigns and battles.* 
 About seven in the morning he would retui-n to his 
 
 * This kind of reading had always a peculiar charm for him, so that 
 not unfrequeutly after a day of unusually hard mental work, preach- 
 ing or otherwise, ho would hava recourse to Alison's ' Ilislorj-,' or 
 ' Wellington's Dispatches,' and find refreshment in giving entire 
 change of thought. 
 
1871 — 72- 301 
 
 room, and after an hour or two of refreshing slumber 
 enter on the hard toil of the day. 
 
 He devoted much time during this winter to his 
 pulpit, writing all his sermons fully out, and preach- 
 ing not only with great delight to himself, but in a 
 manner so instructive to his people that they look back 
 to the teaching of these later months as more precious 
 than any they ever received from him. 
 
 He went to London in February, on the occasion 
 of the public thanksgiving in St. Paul's, for the 
 recovery of the Prince of Wales. The gathering of 
 the representatives of the British empire for such a 
 purpose, the imposing ceremony, the spectacle of the 
 vast cathedral filled with its ten thousand worshippers, 
 the music, the dignified service, all combined to im- 
 press him deeply. 'I thank God,' he said to his 
 brother who sat beside him, ' for a I^ational Church, 
 without which we could not have such an expression 
 of the national religion. It is all worthy and right. 
 "We could not do this in Scotland. Our Presby- 
 terianism is too individual in its methods, — healthy 
 enough as bringing the soul to deal with the personal 
 God, but there should be room in a Church, which 
 professes to be national and historic, for such a service 
 as this.' One feature in the assembly deeply affected 
 him. There were near him a number of Orientals, 
 Parsees, Hindoos, and Mahommedans, whose pre- 
 sence touched a sympathetic chord in his heart. 
 In his speech to the General Assembly three 
 months afterwards, he alluded to the impression that 
 scene had made on him. ' When these men,' he 
 said, ' some of them representatives of sovereigns 
 
362 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 who once occupied the thrones of India, beheld tlie 
 assembly, which, take it all in all, was one of the 
 most remarkable ever gathered, — when they beheld 
 the Queen who now ruled over them, the legislature 
 of Britain, old warriors covered with medals won in 
 many a hard-fought battle in their owti India, men of 
 philosophy and science, men who had governed pro- 
 vinces far greater than England, — all bowing down 
 in Avorship, and when they heard like a mighty breeze 
 the prayer whispered fi'om these ten thousand lips, 
 ' Our Father which art in heaven ; ' what if one 
 of these Easterns had risen and said, 'You have 
 sent us laws, men of science, and warriors, but have 
 never told us of that Father to whom you pray ! ' 
 Could that be said in truth, then might a greater 
 assembly still be summoned to ask God's mercy on a 
 nation that had been so unfaithful.' 
 
 The Scotchmen settled in Liverpool had always 
 shown him afiection, which was quite recij^rocated 
 by him, and as his eldest son was now there 
 learning business, he determined on his way home from 
 London to visit him, and beg for funds for his beloved 
 India Mission. His method of approaching some of 
 the merchants of the town greatly amused them. ' If 
 you treat me in Liverpool as well as I see you treat 
 dogs I will be content,' he said to one of them ; and 
 in answer to the puzzled look of inquiiy, he added, 
 'Merely that I noticed how a dog had carried off 
 huncbeds of pounds at a coursing match, and I 
 think I am as good as a dog any day.' 
 
1871 — 72- 3^3 
 
 To George Campbell, Esq. : — 
 
 Beoadgreen, Liverpool, February, 1872. 
 
 " Thanks for your £50. I will tell you a story — a rare 
 tiling with me. The beadle and gravedigger of Kilwin- 
 ning parish, Ayrshire, was dying. One day his minister 
 found him very sad, and on questioning him as to the cause 
 of this unusual depression, he said, ' I was just countin 
 that since the new year I had buried fifty folk, includin' 
 bairns, and I w^as hopefu' that I might be spared to mak' 
 oot the hunner (hundred) afore the neist new year.' 
 
 " Do you see ? That heart of yours is, I guess, even 
 bigger than your purse. May both be bigger, if possible ! 
 
 " I am trembling betwixt hope and fear for my Indian 
 ark." 
 
 On his way to Liverpool he received the tidings of 
 the death of the man whom of all others he reve- 
 renced and loved, Dr. John Macleod Camj)bell. 
 During the few previous months he had seen one 
 after another of his friends pass away. Erskine of 
 Linlathen and Maurice had just entered into their 
 rest, and now Campbell, to him the greatest and best 
 of all, had followed. 
 
 During the same month he visited St. Andrew's for 
 the purpose of urging the claims of the Mission, and 
 appealing to the students of the University for volun- 
 teers to go to India as missionaries. ' We were all 
 struck,' Principal Sliairp writes, ' by his worn and 
 flaccid look; he seemed so oppressed and nervous 
 when he was going to address only a few hundred 
 people in our small university chapel; and I well 
 remember the close of that address. After describing 
 very clearly and very calmly the state of the Mission 
 and its weakness for want of both fit men and sufficient 
 
36+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 funds, his last words were, '■ If by the time next 
 General Assembly arrives neither of those are forth- 
 comiug, there is one who wishes he may find a 
 grave I ' That was his last word, and it fell like a 
 knell on my heart and on many more. So infirm 
 was he that day, that though the college church is 
 scarcely a hundred yards from ou. house, he had to be 
 di'iven both there and back 1 ' 
 
 From his Journal : — 
 
 " March 1. — What events of importance or interest to 
 mj'Self have been crowded into the months and days -which 
 have passed since these last words have been written ! 
 The Thanksgiving for the dear Queen and Prince this 
 week in London — the grandest thing, morally, I have ever 
 witnessed or can witness ; and the death of my best of 
 friends, and of the best man I have ever known on earth 
 or can know — my own John Campbell ! 
 
 " This last implies worlds to me as affecting my inner 
 life. I mi<?ht have added to it the crisis of the Indian 
 Mission ; yet I am so wearied in body and soul this night, 
 that I cannot write about them, yet cannot be silent, 
 but must mark this point and transition between my past 
 and future, in which I am involved as a minister, a 
 citizen, and a friend. Oh my dear, dear John ! I left 
 thee to-day in thy grave, and the world can never more be 
 the same to me. Thy light, shining through an earthly 
 tabernacle, is gone ; my statF is departed ; the arm on 
 which I leant is in the grave ; and my best and truest 
 of friends is dead ! Oh, how I loved him and adored him 
 on this side of idolatry ! He was my St. Paul. No words 
 of mine can express my love to him. I took part with 
 Story in the service ; I lowered him to his grave ; I 
 cannot preach about him to-morrow ; I hope to do so next 
 Sunday. Till then, all things else depart." 
 
1871 — 12' 3^5 
 
 To Principal Shaikp : — 
 
 Saturday, March 16, 1872. 
 
 "My dearest John, 
 
 " More dear than ever, as friend after friend de- 
 parts, and as we feel ourselves every year like the remains 
 of an old Guard, whose comrades have almost all left us — 
 all who could speak, not of the old wars, but of the old times 
 of joy and hope, of struggle and of victory. The reason, 
 perhaps, why I have not written to you, or indeed to ftny 
 one who was one with me in devoted love to beloved John 
 Campbell, was that I kneAV we had the same feeling, the 
 same sense of loss, the same joy in his gain, the same 
 everything ! I heard of it in England. It was a sudden 
 and terrible blow. As we praised God in St. Paul's, he, a 
 king and priest, had entered into the joy of his Lord ; 
 and oh, John, what joy ! You said truly to me that if 
 there be a God, we as men are alienated from Him, and 
 need reconciliation ; and I add, if there be a God — shock- 
 ing ' if' even to speak of — he is with Him. I returned 
 home on Friday, and was in time for his funeral on Satur- 
 day. I took part in the services along with Story, and 
 what that was to me you will understand, as I prayed in 
 the church, near the head of his coffin. It was a wet and 
 cold day, but there was a large attendance of ministers, 
 and of men and women, who loved him as few were loved. 
 Tuesday I spent with his wife and family, and heard all. 
 Five days before his death, when very cheerie, he wrote 
 his last and a most beautiful letter to comfort orphans. 
 But he spoke not much of religion when dying. His silent 
 death was like his life, an ' Amen' to God's will. 
 
 " I preached a funeral sermon for him, which I will 
 publish, that his dear Lord may be glorified in him, even 
 through unworthy me. He has left a large collection of 
 letters ; many written to his father on the Mondays, giving 
 an account of his teaching on the previous Sundays at 
 Row ; many to his brother and sister, both worthy of 
 him ; a series over ten years, to his son, on general sub- 
 jects of Christian interest ; all immensely valuable. Who 
 will edit these ? I know not. In spite of my dearest wish, 
 it seems impossible that a man so poor in good as I am 
 
366 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 should be called upon to give an account of such men as 
 our two beloved Johns ! But the treasure is often com- 
 mitted to earthen vessels, that the poAver might be seen to 
 be of God, 
 
 " My heart, dear, is very sore. The world and life look 
 awfully serious to me. I feel as if the Avinding-up were 
 coming soon, and I have a depressing sense, of which no 
 one but God can judge, of a miserably improved life. But 
 •'such feelings are for God, more than for man. They don't 
 come from gout, as they, are of late my habit ; yet I suffer 
 still from the enemy. God is my only light, and I seek to 
 cast the burden of my soul, my life, my fears, my all on 
 Him ; and yet my very faith is so weak." 
 
 The sermon which he preached on Dr. Campbell 
 Tvas afterwards published in another form in Good 
 Words. The privilege and responsibility of speaking 
 regarding his lamented friend were so keenly realised 
 by him that, before beginning, he wrote on the fly-leaf 
 of his manuscript the following touching prayer : — 
 
 " May God the Father, whose glory my beloved friend 
 ever sought, teach me, a miserable sinner, who am un- 
 worthy to speak of the holy ones in His presence, to speak 
 of His saint in glory so as to give some true impression of 
 what he was ; that Jesus, who was and is his * all in all,' 
 may be glorified in and by him ; and that, though dead, 
 he may speak through my feeble lips ! I begin with fear 
 and trembling ; yet, if I am every Sunday called upon to 
 speak of Jesus, why should I fear to speak of one of his 
 holy apostles ? God help me in His mercy 1" 
 
 Saturday, March 9, 1872. 
 
 Similar prayers are of frequent occurrence on the 
 first or last pages of his sermons, and there are 
 sometimes brief notices of the events in his own life 
 which suggested certain lines of thought. 
 
CHAPTEE XXiy. 
 
 HIS DEATH. 
 
 * T FEEL as if the windiug-up were coming soon,' 
 -L lie wi'ote to Principal Sliairp, with little anticipa- 
 tion of how soon his words were to be realised. 
 
 As the spring wore on, the sense of feebleness and 
 discomfort continued to increase ; but his family- 
 physician. Professor Andrew Buchanan, after careful 
 examination, discovered, at that time, nothing orga- 
 nically wrong Avith his heart ; and believing that com- 
 plete rest and freedom from anxiety would suffice to 
 remove his ailments, he ordered him to give up the 
 India Mission, leave his town-house and reside in the 
 country, and, in short, confine his duties within the 
 narrowest possible circle. Dr. Macleod at once acqui- 
 esced in these arrangements, and for a time found some 
 enjoyment in planning a cottage which he thought of 
 building on the slope of Campsie Fell, in a situation 
 he had long admired, and he seemed almost happy at 
 the prospect of renewing his early love of country life. 
 The other direction of his physician made a greater 
 demand on his feelings. He did not hesitate as to 
 relinquishing the India Mission, but he determined 
 that in doing so he would express, once for all, the 
 
3r)8 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 conclusions he had reached regarding the manner in 
 which Cliristian work in India ought to be coudncted. 
 For weeks he revolved the subject in his mind ; for 
 weeks it possessed his thoughts night and day ; and, 
 whether from the nature of the views he felt it his 
 duty to propound, or more probably, from the ex- 
 aggerated colouring which weak health imparts to 
 coming difficulties, he somehow expected that his 
 speech was to provoke a violent and painful discus- 
 sion. These anticipations, natui^al to an invalid, 
 although utterly groundless, had the effect of exciting 
 his shattered nervous system, and of producing an 
 anxiety and agitation which told with fatal effect 
 upon him. 
 
 When he rose in the Assembly to address a house 
 crowded to suffocation, his rapid breathing revealed 
 the strain he was labouring under. He had written 
 nothing beforehand except a few jottings on the fly- 
 leaf of the Mission Eeport ; and such was the impas- 
 sioned and rapid manner in which, under the pressure 
 of his convictions, he grappled with the points he 
 wished most to impress, that the reporters were unable 
 to take down even the meaning of a great part of the 
 address — the most powerful and stirring he ever 
 delivered. The speech is practically lost. Passages 
 can be recalled ; the general scope can be sketched ; 
 but tliere is no adequate record of the masterly 
 handling of principles, the touches of kindly humour, 
 the skill with which he conciliated his audience while 
 urging views calculated to otTcnd the prejudices of 
 many, the overpowering earnestness with which he 
 defended his own position and appealed to the Church 
 
HIS DEATH. 369 
 
 for a generous and self- forgetful policy towards India. 
 Tliose who were present may retain an impression of 
 its power, but the speech itself has perished. 
 
 He had been labouring for years, with little effect, 
 to induce the clergy to adopt efficient methods of 
 raising funds, and had discovered how difficult it is 
 in such matters to combat sloth, prejudice, power of 
 custom. He had tried also to make the Church 
 realise the nature and difficulty of the problems with 
 which her Mission had to deal, only to find, how- 
 ever, that many good people withheld their sym- 
 pathy, eyed with suspicion the education policy which 
 formed an essential part of the Mission system, and 
 cared little for any results except such as took the 
 form of individual conversion. He deeply felt that — 
 
 " There was a sort of feeling of uneasiness and discon- 
 tent throughout the Church in reference to his conduct of 
 the Mission, as if they said, ' The Mission is excellent ; 
 God bless the Mission ; let us support it ; but — ' and 
 there was a groan or a sigh, a something he could not get 
 at. It needed no power but that of thoughtlessness to 
 destroy, but they must remember how difficult it is to 
 restore. Any man could set a great building on fire ; and a 
 single word, or the shake of the head of a man in authority, 
 might be very destructive to the work of the Committee. 
 .... Did they realise," he asked, " what they expected 
 the Hindoos to do, what they blamed them for not doing, 
 or compared these expectations with what they were doing 
 themselves at home ? They were asking Hindoos, men of 
 flesh and blood like themselves, and far more sensitive 
 than Scotchmen, of great intelligence and culture, to give 
 up hoary traditions, to cut down the tree of that religion 
 under which they and their fathers had sat for teeming 
 centuries, and to accept the religion of a peo[)le whose very 
 touch was pollution ! They were asking these men in 
 
 VOL. II. B B 
 
370 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 many cases to give up father and mother, and brother and 
 sister, and Avere much astonished they did not make the 
 sacrifice ! But suppose the Hindoos, \\\\o were observing 
 and intelligcmt, were to turn on themselves and say, ' You 
 are sending us Christianity, to bchevo wliich imphes enor- 
 mous sacrifices on our part, but what are your own clergy 
 doing ? You are asking us to sacrifice all our traditions, 
 but you w^on't sacrifice the custom in your parishes that 
 has been brought in by your vencral^lo predecessors ! 
 What do you give for the salvation of souls ? A pound or a 
 penny, or, as is the case in one hundred and seventy of 
 your churches, nothing at all ? You call us deceivers ; 
 but we take you by appearances, and ask you to let us see 
 what Christianity is in yourselves before you couie to us.' 
 .... He had yet to learn that it was the work of the 
 Foreign Mission to make converts. He had always under- 
 stood that the conversion of souls was in the hand of God. 
 He was not speaking lightly of conversion — far from it ; 
 but their responsibility as a Church was to use the best 
 means for converting, and to irnj)lore God's grace on the 
 means. But he would ask those who judge the Mission 
 by the number of converts, to find out how many conver- 
 sions had taken place in their own parishes during the 
 same time. Let them go down to the village, and enter- 
 ing a house, say they will not leave it till tliey bring the 
 men and women to Christ. Let them go to the man of 
 science, who had mastered many of the questions of the 
 day ; let them not call him proud, or sneer at him as a 
 ' natural man,' for he may be most earnest, and may be 
 sweating a more bloody sweat in seeking to come to the 
 truth than they had done ; let them go to that man and 
 satisfy his doubts, meet him fairly before God, and when 
 they returned from such a visitation as that, they would 
 have more sympathy with missionaries dealing with edu- 
 cated heathens." 
 
 The chief purpose of his speechj however, took 
 wider ground. He desired all Churches to consider 
 whether the forms in which they were presenting truth, 
 
HIS DEATH. 371 
 
 and the ecclesiastical differences they were exporting 
 to India, were the best means for Christianizing that 
 country. Was it right that the divisions which sepa- 
 rated Churches in this country, and which were the 
 growth of their special histories, should not only be 
 continued, but be made as great matters of principle 
 in India as in England or Scotland ? 
 
 " When these Hindoos heard an Anglican bishop declare 
 that he did not recognise as belonging to Christ's Church 
 congregations of faithful men holding a pure gospel and 
 observing the sacraments of the Lord ; when they met 
 others who said, ' You must accept all these Calvinistic 
 doctrines ;' and when the Wesleyans came next and said, 
 'God forbid! don't bring these things in;' and the 
 Baptist came with his idolatry of sacrament, saying, ' You 
 must be a Baptist, you must be dipped again ;' and when 
 the Roman Catholic came and saicl, ' You are all wrono- 
 together;' is it any wonder that the Hindoo, pressed on 
 every side by different forms of Western Christianity, 
 should say, ' Gentlemen, I thank you for the good you 
 have done me, but as I am sore perplexed by you all, take 
 yourselves off, leave me alone with God, then I will be 
 fairly dealt with.' It was a positive shame — it was a disgrace 
 — that they should take with them to India the differences 
 that separated them a few yards from their brethren in 
 this country. Is it not monstrous to make the man they 
 ordained on the banks of the Ganges sign the Westminster 
 Confession of the Church of Scotland or the Deed of 
 Demission and Protest of the Free Church ? Was that 
 the wisest, was it the Christian way of dealing with 
 Hindoos ? . , . . And were they presenting the truth to 
 the native mind in the form best fitted for his require- 
 ments ? The doctrines of their Confessions might be true 
 in themselves, but the Confession was a document closely 
 connected with the historical development and with the 
 metaphysical temperament of the people who had accepted 
 it, and might not be equally suitable for those who had 
 
 B B 2 
 
372 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 not the same traditions and tendencies. Was it necessary 
 to give these minute and abstract statements to Orientals 
 whose habits of mind and spiritual affinities might lay better 
 hold on other aspects of divine truth, and who might mould 
 a theology for themselves, not less Christian, but which 
 would be Indian, and not English or Scotch ? Tlie block 
 of ice, clear and cold, the beautiful product of our northern 
 climes, will at the slighest touch freeze the warm lips of 
 the Hindoo. Why insist that he must take that or 
 nothing ? Would it not be better to let the stream flow 
 freely that the Eastern may quench his thirst at \\ill from 
 God's own water of life ? Would it not be possible 
 for the Evangelical Churches to drop their poculiarities, 
 and in the unselfishness of the common faith construct a 
 Primer, or make the Apostles' Creed their symbol, and 
 say, ' This is not all you are going to learn, but if you 
 receive this truth and be strong in the f;iith, we will 
 ' receive you so walking, but not to doubtful disputations ; 
 and, if in anything ye be otherwise minded, God will 
 reveal even this unto you ?' ' And they should make 
 known the truth not only by books but by living men. 
 Send them the missionary. Let him be a man who embodies 
 Christianity ; and if he were asked, ' What is a Christian ? ' 
 he could answer, ' I am ; I know and love Christ, and wish 
 you to know Him and love Him too.' That man in his 
 justice, generosity, love, self-sacrifice, would make the 
 Hindoo feel that he had a brother given him by a common 
 Father. Let them prepare the Hindoos to form a Church 
 for themselves. Give them the gunpowder, and they will 
 make their own cannon." 
 
 While advocating these catholic aims, ho did not 
 forget that spirit of ecclesiasticism, and those preju- 
 dices and bigotries he was offending. He rose into 
 indignant remonstrance as he thought of how India 
 might possibly be sacrificed to the timidity of some of 
 the clergy afraid to speak out their thoughts, or, still 
 worse, to the policy of others who, in the critical 
 
HIS DEATH. 373 
 
 position of tlie Chiireh. at home, were cautious not 
 to verify the accusations of latitudinarianism made 
 against her by interested opponents. 
 
 " You must take care lest by insisting on the minutiae 
 of doctrine or government you are not raising a barrier to 
 the advances of Christianity. You must take heed lest 
 things infinitesimally small as compared with the great 
 world, may not be kept so near the eye as to conceal the 
 whole world from you. A man may so wrap a miserable 
 partisan newspaper round his head as to shut out the sun, 
 moon, and stars. You must take care that your Cairns do 
 not stand so near as to shut out Calcutta, and the Watch- 
 word make you so tremble for petty consequences at home 
 that all India is forgotten by you. I am not speaking for 
 myself alone," he added, " for I know how these difficulties 
 press upon many a missionary — and remember how more 
 than one has taken my hand, and said we dare not speak 
 out on these things, lest our own names be blasted, our- 
 selves represented as unsafe, and all home-confidence be 
 removed from us. But why should they be afraid of such 
 reproach ? Why should I be afraid of it ? Am I to be 
 silent lest I should be whispered about, or suspected, or 
 called 'dangerous,' 'broad,' ' latitudinarian,' 'atheistic?' 
 So long as I have a good conscience towards God, and 
 have His sun to shine on me, and can henr the birds 
 singing, I can walk across the earth with a joj'ful and free 
 heart. Let them call me ' broad.' I desire to be broad 
 as the charity of Almighty God, who maketh His sun to 
 shine on the evil and the good ; who hateth no man, and 
 who loveth the poorest Hindoo more than all their com- 
 mittees or all their Churches. But while I long for that 
 breadth of charity, I desire to be narrow-^narrow as 
 God's righteousness, which as a sharp sword can separate 
 between eternal rio^ht and eternal wronsr." 
 
 ^o^ 
 
 No one then present can forget the thrilling power, 
 the manly bearing, the intensity of suppressed feel- 
 ing, with which these words were uttered. 
 
37+ LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD 
 
 In a few following sentences he explained how he 
 was compelled to relinquish all public work for the 
 future, thanked his brethren for the kindness he had 
 received from thc^m, and bidding farewell to the 
 Church he had served with life -long affection, he 
 ended in accents broken with emotion, 'If I forget 
 thee, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her 
 cunning — if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief 
 
 joy.' 
 
 It was a last and fatal effort. The hearts of many 
 
 present trembled for him as they watched the unnatural 
 
 flush upon his cheeks, and marked the expenditure of 
 
 energy the exertion cost him. To more than one of 
 
 those whose eye wistfully followed him, as he left the 
 
 house, the sad foreboding came that it was theii- last 
 
 look of him. 
 
 " I was so glad," one writes, " I heard that magnificent 
 oration. When it was over, I bowed my head in my hands, 
 wishing to shut out everything but the solemn thoughts 
 such words had conjured up. I felt how much too great the 
 exertion had been for him. I took a long last look at him 
 before I left — the conviction being somehow strong upon 
 me that with my mortal eyes I should never see him again." 
 
 For the next few days he complained of uneasiness 
 and unaccountable depression of spirits, but was able 
 to preach in his own church on the afternoon of the 
 following Lord's-day. It was his last sermon, and 
 on the strikingly appropriate subject, ' We have for- 
 saken all, and followed Thee ; what shall we have, 
 therefore ? ' A sheet of note-paper contains all he had 
 written beforehand, but it is enough to show that his 
 last counsels to his people were strangely in harmony 
 with the situation. His theme was the way in which 
 
HIS DEATH. 375 
 
 Christ educated His disciples, and he urged upon his 
 hearers the truth that if they were willing to accept 
 His guidance every day, they would at last be pre- 
 pared cheerfully to suiTender life and all into His 
 hands. 
 
 IS'ext day, the 3rd of June, he was to enter his 
 sixty -first year, and he had such a strong desire to have 
 all his family with him on this birthday, that he 
 brought his aged mother from the country and asked 
 leave for his son to come from Liverpool. There was 
 no foreboding in all this of immediate danger. He 
 said and did some things which afterwards seemed to 
 indicate a feeling of approaching death. When at 
 Balmoral the previous week he spoke to more than 
 one of its being his last visit, and in some of his letters 
 there were expressions so solemn as to have startled 
 the friends who received them. But he did not really 
 think that his end was so near. A great sadness 
 weighed on him, a weariness of the noise and dis- 
 putings of men, of 'the burden and the mystery' of 
 life ; and out of this arose a more childlike clinging 
 to Christ and to the love and goodness of God. 
 Deeply affected by the disturbed condition of opinion 
 in the world and the Church, he cherished only a 
 fuller confidence in order finally coming out of dis- 
 order; and feeling his own life-work was over, he 
 entered the more keenly into speculations as to the 
 character of the life beyond the grave. The future 
 state, the society, occupations and joy of the blessed 
 dead, had been a favourite theme with him for many 
 years, but during the last few days of his life, it 
 seemed to engross his thoughts. No friend could be 
 
376 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 with him for many minutes without his reverting to 
 it. Under the influence of the same feelings he spoke 
 of his death. ' My father often took me at that time 
 to diive with him,' writes one of his daughters. ' He 
 talked, or rather thought aloud, almost always about 
 death and dying — the dread every one has of the act 
 of dying ; and how merciful it was, that though a 
 man in health fears death, yet when he is weakened 
 by disease, he is indifferent to its terror ; ' above all, 
 what a comfort it is to know that the Man Christ Jesus 
 died ! ' On the Friday after he was taken ill, I was 
 sitting on his bed hearing how he was, and he said, 
 * How dreadful it would be if a God of hate ruled the 
 world ; how he could torture us ! For instance, he 
 could make us die more than once, and each death 
 become a dreadful experience. Let us thank God for 
 His love. After all,' he added after a pause, ' death is 
 a wrong name for it — it is bii'th into tlie true life.' 
 
 The greater part of Monday, 3rd June, was spent 
 by him alone in the outside study. He passed the day 
 chiefly in writing letters to valued friends and in quiet 
 meditation. One of his aunts found him reading 
 the seventy-first psalm, and he at once made it the 
 groundwork of one of those out-pourings of his deepest, 
 most inward experiences which none who ever heard 
 them can forget. In the evening all his family were 
 gathered round his table. 
 
 From, liis JouRNAii : — 
 
 " June 2. — To-morrow, if I live, I am sixty. I enter 
 on the last decade allotted to man. I cannot take it in. 
 lu one sense I am young in heart. I dream, as I have, 
 
ins DEATH. 377 
 
 alas ! done for many a year, of what I may, or might do — 
 in literature, in practical work, in many a thing. While I 
 dream life passes, powers fail, and I feel as one who had 
 done nothingf, and know that I have done little in com- 
 parison with what I could have done, had I only been 
 self-denying and diligent in college and in riper years. 
 I confess with shame my off-putting, my want of pains- 
 takino- and earnestness in masterinsf difficulties and details, 
 my indolence, and selfishness, and want of principle, in not 
 attending each day, from youth upwards, in doing, to the 
 best of my ability, that one work, Avhether of mastering 
 a lesson or anything else, given me to do. It is no com- 
 fort to tell me what I have done, for it is false comfort. 
 I feel it truer to confess what I have not done, what I 
 ought to have done, what I could have done, and Avhich 
 being left undone has been a felt, real, and shameful loss 
 to me all my life. Whatever a man's natural talent may 
 be, whatever success he has had in the world, whatever 
 good he has accomplished, it yet remams true that he 
 would have been better, wiser, more influential, and glori- 
 fied God far more if he had been a careful, accurate, diligent 
 scholar at school and college, and acquired those habits of 
 study, that foundation of knowledge, without which talent 
 is stunted, and genius itself is very far from accomplishing 
 that which it otherwise could do. God blesses the self- 
 sacrifice of study, and that I never had in my youth, and 
 for that I have suffered, and more especially as I have in 
 later years become fully alive to its importance. Morally 
 and intellectually I am a dismasted wreck, praising and 
 blessing God if I get into the harbour, and reverencing 
 those who are good men, because they have been all their 
 lives dutiful. 
 
 " My life has been to me a mystery of love. I know 
 that God's education of each man is in perfect righteous- 
 ness. I know that the best on earth have been the 
 greatest sufferers, because they were the best, and, like 
 gold, could stand the fire and be purified by it. I know 
 this, and a great deal more, and yet the mercy of God to 
 me is such a mystery, that I have been tempted to think 
 that I was utterly unworthy of suffering. 
 
378 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " God have raercy on my thoughts ! I may be unable 
 to stand suffering. I do not know. But I lay myself at 
 Thy feet and say — not that I am prepared — but that Thou 
 art good, and wise, and wilt prepare me. I am a poor 
 selfish creature. 
 
 " God is all in all. 
 
 " God is love. Amen. 
 
 " The doctors tell me I am in danger, and that unless I 
 give up work I may not live. I have been ill for the last 
 sixteen years. The doctors tell me that I must get quit 
 of worry. I have, by their command, given up on Thurs- 
 day last the Convenership of the India Mission. I feel this. 
 I spoke an hour and a half on the subject, but the reports 
 of my speech are fearful ; empty of all I said that is 
 worth anything, full of horrors and absurdities I never 
 said." 
 
 To Peincipal Shairp :— 
 
 2>rd Jane, 1872. 
 
 " I am three-score years to-day ! 
 
 " John dear, I cannot speak about myself. I am dumb 
 with thoughts that cannot be uttered. 
 
 " The doctors tell me that unless by rest of body and 
 mind I can conquer incipient disease, it wall kill me. 
 
 " So I am obeying to the best of my ability. 
 
 " As I feel time so rapidly passing, I take your hand, 
 dear old friend, with a firmer grip ! 
 
 " I have many friends ; few old ones ! 
 
 " Oh that I loved my oldest and truest, my Father and 
 Saviour, better ! But should I enter heaven as a forlorn 
 ship, dismasted, and a mere log — it is enough — for I will 
 be repaired. 
 
 " But I have been a poor concern, and have no peace 
 but in God's mercy to a miserable sinner. 
 
 " I spoke in the Assembly on India Missions for an 
 hour and a half. I will probably print it. It is my 
 programme for India. It knocked me up." 
 
HIS DEATH. 379 
 
 To Mrs. Macnab (Sister of Dr. Macleod Cainpbell) : — 
 
 Zrd June, 1872. 
 Zrd June, 1812. 
 
 " You did not intend it to be a birthday gift to the 
 child you had in your arms sixty years ago ! But so it is, 
 and it is doubly precious as a pledge of a love that has 
 remained ever bright for three-score years, and will be 
 brighter still Avhen time shall be no more. God bless you 
 and preserve you to us on earth ! I am dumb with a sense 
 of awe, and full of thoughts that cannot be uttered. My 
 only rest in thinking of the past and in anticipating the 
 future is in the one thought of ' God my Father.' 
 
 " I am so glad you would like me to republish my 
 sketch of dear John Campbell. What would you say to 
 putting in an appendix some extracts from his books, 
 expressive of his leading ' views ? ' This mi^'ht help some 
 souls in perj^lexity, and induce them to read his books. 
 They would be of use in India. 
 
 " As to his letters, &c., no one felt more strongly than 
 John Mackintosh regarding biographies. The only thing 
 which induced us to go against his expressed wishes was 
 the conviction, that now he would wish to do whatever 
 seemed best to others, whom he loved and trusted, for the 
 glory of God. And surely the result justified us. It 
 seems to me that the responsibility of not permitting men 
 to speak when dead is as great as in enabling them to do 
 so. How is it likely they would judge now ? is a question 
 I cannot help putting." 
 
 To Eev. A. Cleek, wliose son, Duncan Clerk, was then dying : — 
 
 June 3, 1872. 
 " It is very solemn and very affecting, and I need not 
 say how deeply we sympathize with you. Yet there is but 
 One who can do so perfectly, and give you and dear Jessie 
 faith and strength at this terrible crisis. I feel how im- 
 possible it is to convey in words what one would like to 
 say at such a time, if indeed silence does not best express 
 the sense of darkness and oppression. I enter to-day my 
 sixty-first year, and have my mother and all my family 
 
38o LIFE OF XORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 around me, and the contrast presented between my house 
 and yours makes your affliction only more dark and scjlcmn. 
 We can only fall back on God to deliver me from a slavish 
 fear of coming sorrows, and you, my dear Archy, from a 
 want of faith in His constant and deep love to you and 
 yours. What God may be giving you in this form, I don't 
 know. Biit I am sure He is giving. Those He has taken, 
 and seems to be taking, have been among His elect ones if 
 any such there be on earth. A finer boy than Duncan 
 could not be. Every one loved and respected him. He 
 was a girl in purity, a child in humility, modesty, and 
 obedience. Fit for Heaven ! fit to join his sainted sister 
 and brothers. You have both sent precious treasures there 
 to be your OAvn riches for ever, and I doubt not every soul 
 in your house will get a blessing. A holy family ! what 
 an awful gift from God ! I don't wish to speak about my- 
 self, but I am not well. The doctors have discovered 
 symptoms so serious in me as to necessitate my getting 
 rest for mind and body, and so ward off what would very 
 soon kill me. So I gave up the India Mission, and am 
 trying to sell my house in town, and get one in the 
 country. All my lameness, weariness, all are from the 
 same cause. I am utterly unable to stand fatigue, and I 
 am still suffering from my long (one hour and a half) 
 speech and probably my last in the Assembly. I fear to 
 attempt to go to you, as I believe I would add to your 
 trouble, I get so prostrate. I am seriously alarmed for 
 myself and can see no escape at present." 
 
 To the Marchioness of Ely (then Lady in Waiting at Balmoral) : — 
 
 Junt 3rd, 1872. 
 
 "Dear Lady Ely, 
 
 " Whether it is that my head is empty or my 
 heart full, or that both conditions are realised in my 
 experience, the fact, however, is that I carmot express 
 myself as I feel, in replying to j^our ladyship's kind — far 
 too kind — note, which I received when in the whirlwind, 
 or miasma of Assembly business. Thanks deep and true 
 to you and to my Sovereign Lady for thinking of me. I 
 
HIS DEATH. 381 
 
 spoke for nearly two hours in the Assembly, which did 
 no good to me, nor I fear to any other ! I was able to 
 preach yesterday. As I have got nice summer quarters, I 
 hope to recruit, so as to cast off this dull, hopeless sort oi 
 feeling. I ought to be a happy, thankful man to-day. I 
 am to-day sixty, and round my table will meet my mother, 
 my wife, and all my nine children, six brothers and sisters, 
 and two aunts — one eighty-nine, the other seventy-six, 
 and all these are a source of joy and thanksgiving. Why 
 such mercies to me, and such suffering as I often see sent 
 to the best on earth ? God alone knows. I don't. But 
 I am sure He always acts as a wise, loving, and impartial 
 Father to all His children. What we know not now, we 
 shall know hereafter. God bless the Queen for all her 
 unwearied goodness ! I admire her as a woman, love her 
 as a friend, and reverence her as a Queen ; and you know 
 that what I say, I feel. Her courage, patience, and en- 
 durance are marvellous to me." 
 
 From his Jotjrnal — 
 
 " June 8. — I am this day three-score years. 
 
 " The Lord is mysterious in His ways ! I bless and 
 praise Him. 
 
 " I commit myself and my all into His loving hands, 
 feeling the high improbability of such a birthday as this 
 ever being repeated. 
 
 " But "we shall be united after the last birthday into 
 heaven, 
 
 " Glory to God, for His mercy towards us guilty sinners, 
 through Jesus Christ His Son, my Lord. 
 
 " I preached at Balmoral (' Thy Kingdom come'), on the 
 27th May. The Queen, as usual, very kind. As she noticed 
 my feebleness, she asked me to be seated during the private 
 interview. When last at Balmoral, I met Forster (the Cabi- 
 net Minister) there. He and Helps and I had great argu- 
 ments on all important theological questions till very late. 
 I never was more impressed by any man, as deep, inde- 
 pendent, thoroughly honest and sincere. I conceived a 
 great love for him. I never met a statesman whom, for 
 
382 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 high-minded honesty and justice,! would sooner follow. 
 He will be Premier some day, 
 
 " Dear Helps ! man of men, or rather brother of brothers. 
 
 " The last Assembly has been the most reactionary I have 
 ever seen ; all because Dr. Cairns and others have attacked 
 the Church for her latitudinarianism ! The lectures of Stanley 
 have aroused the wrath of the Pharisees, and every trembler 
 wishes to prove that we are not latitudinarian, forsooth ! If 
 by this term is meant any want of foith in the teaching of 
 Christ and His apostles, any want of faith in the Bible, or 
 in the supernatural, or in Christ's person or atonement 
 (though not the Cliurch theory), or in all the essentials of 
 the faith common to the Church catholic ; then I am no 
 latitudinarian. But if by this is meant that man's con- 
 science or reason (in Coleridge's sense) is not the ultimate 
 judge of a divine revelation, that I am bound to stick to 
 the letter of the Confession, and to believe, for example, 
 that all mankind are damned to ' excruciatinGf torn.ents in 
 soul and body for all eternity,' because of Adam's sin, and 
 the original corruption springing therefrom, and that God 
 has sent a Saviour for a select few only, and that death 
 determines the eternal condition of all men ; then, thank 
 God, I am a latitudinarian, have preached it, confessed it, 
 and can die for it ! Nothing amazes or pains me more than 
 the total absence of all pain, all anxiety, all sense of burden or 
 of difficulty among nine-tenths of the clergy I meet, as to 
 questions which keep other men sleepless. Give me only 
 a man who knows, who feels, who takes in, however feebly 
 (like myself), the life and death problems which agitate the 
 best (yes, the best) and most thoughtful among clergy and 
 laity, who thinks and prays about them, Avho feels the 
 difficulties which exist, who has faith in God that the 
 right will come right, in God's Avay, if not in his, I am 
 strengthened, comforted, and feel deeply thankful to be 
 taught. But what good can self-satisfied, infallible Ultra- 
 montanes do for a poor, weak, perplexed soul ? Nay, what 
 good can puppies do who may accept congenial conclusions 
 without feeling the difficulties by which they are surrounded? 
 What have 1 suffered and endured in this my little back 
 study, which I must soon leave ! How often from my 
 
HIS DEATH. 383 
 
 books have I crazed out of this window before me, and 
 found strength and peace in the httle bit of the sky- 
 revealed, with its big cumuli clouds, its far-away ciiri 
 streaks, and, farther still, its deep, unfathomable blue — its 
 infinite depths I could not pierce ! j^et seeing — in the 
 great sunlight, in the glory of cloudland, in the peace of 
 the sky — such a revelation of God as made me say, ' The 
 Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice !' 
 
 " The older I get I find more and more teaching from 
 God's revelation in nature. 
 
 " The confusion that exists at this moment, and which 
 began soon after the war of '15, and is as eventful as the 
 Reformation, is most oppressive. 
 
 ' Every tliiug is sundering, 
 And every one is wondering, 
 As this huge <ilobe goes thundering 
 On for ever on.' 
 
 " On the one hand, there is a breaking up of the old 
 forms of thought about everything, social, political, scien- 
 tific, philosophic, and theological. In spite of much fool- 
 ish conceit and sense of power on the part of those who 
 guide the battering-rams against the old walls, there is on 
 the part of many more, a great sense of the paramount im- 
 portance of truth and duty which, if piously considered, 
 would but express faith in God, Who is ever on the side of 
 truth, whether Huxley, Darwin, or any other express it, 
 albeit without sympathy for the speakers unless they be 
 truthful. On the part of the defenders there are all shades 
 of feeling. Not a few from faith in God and Christ, and 
 in the verities of that moral and spiritual kingdom which, 
 having in themselves, they knoAV cannot be moved, accept of 
 these attacks, not as from real enemies, but friends, because 
 beUeving that Christianity will ever be found far ahead of 
 men, will soon ' prepare a place ' for all real truth, so that 
 wherever Christ is, there it may be also. But others are 
 in terror, and either refuse to look at Avhat professes to be 
 truth in the face, and only call its professors nick-names, 
 or try the Romish Syllabus dodge, and gather into clulis, 
 Hke Jesuits, and in vain, by assertion, try to stop the 
 movement. 
 
38). JJFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 " So we are split up into fragments, and while Rome 
 remains whole, — in its blindness swearing there is no light 
 because it docs not see it, and cursing all eye-doctors and 
 spectacles. 
 
 " As for Scotland ! The Church of the future is not 
 here ! We ignore great world-questions. We squabble 
 like fishwomen over skate and turbot. 
 
 " Where is the germ of the Church of the future ? In 
 what Church ? In what creed ? In what forms of Efovern- 
 ment ? It may come from India, as the first came from 
 the East. But all our old forms are eflete, as old oaks, 
 although young ones may grow out of them. Neither 
 Calvinism, nor Presbyterianism, nor Thirty-nine Articles, 
 nor nigh Churchism, nor Low Churchism, nor any existing 
 organization can be the Church of the future ! May God 
 give us patience to Avait ! It may be a thousand, or three 
 thousand years yet, ere it comes, but come it will ! I 
 do not think any Broad Church can be tlie Church yet ; 
 it wants definiteness to meet the common mind of rough 
 humanity. But in a Church it can modify and liberalise 
 extremes, witness for individuality against any extreme 
 views of the body, and so help to an ultimate solu- 
 tion of the problem between the individual and the 
 Church. I shall see it from the other side ; but not 
 from this. 
 
 " I resigned the Convenership of the India Mission as I 
 have said. I made a long speech not reported. Dear 
 Watson has been rejected as Convener. Herdman appointed. 
 This is of interest merely as showing the contest between 
 the parties in the Church. These are the Ultra-Evan- 
 gelical and the Liberal " 
 
 Thus ends the journal he kept so faithfully through 
 his busy life. 
 
 On the same day his birthday festival was held with 
 a joy that was shadowed by haunting fears of coming 
 change. His worn and shattered aspect, and his sad, 
 tender bearing, suggested painful forebodings to those 
 
HIS DEATH. 38s 
 
 who loved him, and who could scarcely refrain from 
 showing their anxiety. 
 
 On the following Thursday he took his mother 
 and aunt for a drive in an open carriage. The 
 day was treacherous, and, before they returned, the 
 bright sunshine, which had tempted them to go 
 out, departed, and a piercing east wind came on. 
 In his anxiety for his delicate aunt he wrapped 
 his own plaid round her, and exposed himself to a 
 chill, which, in his broken condition of health, proved 
 fatal. When he came home he was seized with a 
 shiver, followed by an intense pain in the chest, and 
 for the next few days experienced extreme suffering, 
 combined with overpowering attacks of sickness. He 
 spent some hours that evening with his mother, and 
 aunts, and sister, who resided a few doors from his 
 own house. It was the day of the funeral of a 
 favourite nephew, Duncan Clerk, and partly to com- 
 fort his sorrowing niece, who was present, as well 
 as to give expression to thoughts of which his mind 
 was full, he talked with more than usual power — 
 almost with excitement — regarding the glorified life 
 of those who had departed in the Lord. He recalled 
 the names and characters of deceased relatives, and 
 described the joy of meeting and recognising them. 
 He spoke of his father, of James, of sisters and 
 uncles who were dead, and of John Mackintosh ; 
 and when one of the party chanced to allude to 
 their departure as loss, he vehemently remonstrated 
 against such a view. ' Love is possession, love is 
 possession,' he repeated with an emphasis, which those 
 who listened to him have since learned to apply to 
 
 VOL. II. c c 
 
386 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 the separation they feared, hut the immincuce of which 
 tliey did not then anticipate. Before parting from his 
 niotliur that evening — the last they were to spend 
 together on earth— he poured out his soul in a prayer 
 which melted every heart. It was a triumphant thanks- 
 giving to God, which recalled his own past history, 
 and the history of the ftimily, revived the names of 
 many dear ones who had entered into rest, and 
 concluded with a glorious profesbion of gratitude, con- 
 fidence, and joy. 
 
 His restlessness night and day became dreadful, but 
 as the symptoms seemed to arise from indigestion, for 
 a time no strong measures were taken. In order 
 to alleviate this, and to give him greater freedom, 
 Mrs. Macleod removed his bed to the drawing-room. 
 The pain gradually lessened, but his strength went 
 visibly down, and his brother, Professor Macleod, 
 who had been out of town, was, on his return, so 
 much struck by the change in his appearance, that, 
 though not anticipating any immediately fatal result, 
 he suspected the imminence of graver complications. 
 In order to secui-e complete rest for him, arrange- 
 ments were made for his giving up every kind of 
 work for six months. This fact was communicated 
 tc him on Tuesday the 11th, and was received with 
 perfect composure ; but when his brother left, Mrs. 
 Macleod found him in the drawing-room deadly pale 
 and nearly fainting. The proposal had shocked him 
 more than he knew, as indicating the cessation of his 
 active life; but he revived after a little, and spoke 
 of how delightful it would be to take all his childi'en 
 to Cannstadt, and how he would enjoy six months' 
 rest with his family and his books. 
 
HIS DEATH. 387 
 
 The rapid sinking of his strength, the increasing 
 tendency to faintnoss, the casual rambling of his 
 thoughts, showed, however, too plainly the severity of 
 the attack, and his medical attendants held a consulta- 
 tion on Thursday, in which Professor Gairdner joined. 
 Their examination showed that rapid effusion had 
 taken place into the pericardium. 
 
 That morning, when one of his brothers saw him, 
 he described a dream which seemed for the time to 
 fill him with happiness : — ' I have had such a glorious 
 dream ! I thought the whole Punjaub was suddenly 
 Christianised, and such noble fellows, with their native 
 churches and clergy.' 
 
 The next day he was very weak, but on Saturday 
 the doctors found him considerably better. The birth 
 of his brother Donald's eldest son, which occurred that 
 morning, took a strange hold of his mind, and wdicn the 
 father called for him he found him filled with solemn 
 thoughts suggested by the gift of this new life. He 
 was seated in a stooping position, his elbows resting 
 on his linees, to relieve the pain in his chest, and 
 while he spoke his eyes overflowed with tears, as with 
 broken utterance he touched on what had always 
 been a congenial theme : — ' Christ spoke of the joy 
 of a man-child being born into the world. He alone 
 could measure all that is imj^lied in the beginning of 
 such an existence. A man born ! One that may 
 know God and be with Him for ever. A son of 
 God like Jesus Christ — how grand — how awfully 
 grand ! ' * 
 
 * The same newspaper which announced the birth of this boy, 
 Norman, contained the news of his nr.cle's death. 
 
 c c 2 
 
388 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 That evening he was so much bettor as to enjoy 
 music, and his daughters played and sang some of his 
 favourite pieces, — the 'Marche Funebre' of Beethoven, 
 with a part of the Sonata ; Mozart's ' Kyrie Eleison ;' 
 ' Ach wie ist es moglich ! ' ' Nearer, my God, to 
 Thee.' He was greatly moved by Newman's well- 
 known hymn, ' Lead kindly light,' which, strange to 
 say, he had never heard sung before. Every word 
 seemed so appropriate that he made his daughter sit 
 beside him that he might hear her more distinctly, 
 and he shook his head and bowed it with emphatic 
 acquiescence at different passages, especially at the 
 linos, — 
 
 " Keep Thou my feet : I do not ask to see 
 The distant scene : one step enough for me." 
 
 On that night, as well as on the previous one, his 
 brother George sat up with him. On the Friday 
 night he had suffered extremely, but he was now 
 slightly better. He had snatches of sleep, often rose 
 and walked through the room, sometimes indulging 
 in bits of fun, and shaking with laughter at sallies 
 of wit which were evidently intended to relieve his 
 brother's anxiety. Sometimes his mind slightly 
 wandered. More than once he engaged in silent 
 prayer, and after one of these still moments he 
 said, ' I have been praying for this little boy of 
 Donald's — that he may live to be a good man, and by 
 God's grace be a minister in the Church of Christ — 
 the grandest of all callings ! ' 
 
 He described with great delight the dreams he had 
 been enjoying, or rather the visions which seemed to 
 be passing vividly before his eyes even while he 
 
HIS DEATH. 389 
 
 was speaking. ' You cannot imagine wliat exquisite 
 pictures I see. I never beheld more glorious High- 
 lands, majestic mountains and glens, brown heather 
 tinted with purple, and burns — clear, clear burns — 
 and above, a sky of intense blue — so blue, without 
 a cloud ! ' 
 
 He spoke of an unusual number of friends, and 
 rememberino; that the Queen was then leaving 
 Balmoral for Windsor, he prayed aloud for her and 
 her children. 
 
 Seeinc: that his brother was anxious that he should 
 sleep, he said, ' Tell me about the Crimea, and what 
 you saw there. There is nothing I like so much as 
 stories of battles. If you tell me what you saw 
 you will soothe me to sleep like a child. I never 
 could well make out the position of the Flagstaff 
 battery. ITow, just go on !' Once, during the night, 
 he asked his brother, with great tenderness, to kiss 
 him ; and at another time, when awaking from sleep, 
 he held up his hands, as if pronounc'"iig the benedic- 
 tion in church, and said with much solemnity, '■ May 
 the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love oi 
 God, and the Communion of the Holy Spirit, be with 
 you all. Amen.' So passed his last night on earth, 
 troubled, yet peaceful, and full of the unselfishness 
 and simplicity of his life. 
 
 On the morning of Sunday, the sixteenth of June, 
 he was so much better that his brother left him in 
 comparative comfort, and when Professor Andrew 
 Buchanan saw him some hours afterwards, he was 
 surprised at the great improvement which had taken 
 place. He felt so refreshed after taking some food, 
 
3Q0 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 about seven in the morning, that he aslced his wife 
 to sit beside him while he told hor the deeper 
 thoughts that were possessing his soul. ' I believe I 
 Avill get better,' he said, ' but I wish you to record 
 for my good and for our good afterwards, that in 
 this hurricane I have had deep thoughts of God. 
 I I'cel as if He said, ' We know one another, I love 
 you, I forgive you ; I put my hands round you,' just 
 as I would with my son Norman,' and here he laid 
 his own hand tenderly on his wife's head. ' I have 
 had few religious exercises for the last ten days. If 
 my son were ill I would not be angry with him for 
 not sending me a letter. But I have had constant 
 joy, and the happy thought continually whispered, 
 ^Thou art with me!' Not many would understand 
 m(\ They would put down much that I have felt to 
 the delirium of weakness, but I have had deep spirit- 
 ual insight.' "When he was sjieaking of God's deal- 
 ings, the expression of his face and his accents were 
 as if he was addressing One actually present. Still 
 more intimately, it seemed, than ever, his fellowship 
 was with the Father and the Son. He again repeated 
 that he believed he would get better, and that his 
 latter days would be more useful tlian any former 
 ones. ' I have neglected many things. I have not 
 felt as I ouglit how awfully good God is ; how gene- 
 rous and long-suffering ; how He has ' put up ' with 
 all my rubbish. It is enough to crush me when I 
 think of all His mercies' (as he said this he was 
 melted in tears), ' mercy, mercy, from beginning to 
 end. You and I have passed through many life- 
 storms, but we can say with peace, it has been all 
 
HIS DEATH. 391 
 
 right.' He added some thing she could not follow 
 as to what he would wish to do in his latter days, 
 and as to how he ' would teach his darling children 
 to know and realise God's presence.' He told her 
 once more to write down all he had said, that it 
 might do her good when her own day of sorrow 
 came. He frequently said that this visitation was 
 quite unexpected. 
 
 Some hours afterwards two of his daughters came 
 to kiss him before going to church. ' He took my 
 hands in both of his,' one of them writes, 'and told 
 me I must come to see him oftener. 'If I had 
 strength,' he said, 'I could tell you things would do 
 you good through all your life. I am an old man, and 
 have passed through many experiences, but now all 
 is perfect peace and perfect calm. I have glimpses 
 of heaven that no tongue, or pen, or words can 
 describe.' I kissed him on his dear forehead and 
 went away, crying only because he was so ill. When 
 I next saw him he was indeed ' in perfect peace and 
 perfect calm,' 
 
 The church bells had for some time ceased to ring, 
 and the quiet of the Lord's-day rested on the city. 
 His wife and one of his sons were with him in the 
 drawing-room, where he remained chiefly sitting on 
 the sofa. About twelve o'clock Mrs. Macleod went 
 to the door to give some directions about food. The 
 sudden cry, 'Mother, mother!' startled her, and 
 when she hurried in she saw his head had fallen back. 
 There was a soft sigh, and, gently as one sinking into 
 sleep, his spirit entered the eternal rest. 
 
CHAPTER XXy. 
 
 THE FUNERAL. 
 
 ' I I AD I a wish on so solemn a subject, I would be 
 JJ- disposed to choose a sudden death.' So had 
 he wi'itten some years before ; and those who knew and 
 loved him best, when their grief was so far assuaged 
 as to allow them to judge calmly, thanked God for 
 the time and manner in which it pleased Him to take 
 His servant to Himself. His death came when his 
 work was in a sense complete. He had all but accom- 
 plished his plans for meeting the spiritual necessities 
 of his great parish.* He had borne his last mature 
 testimony on behalf of India ; and his work in the 
 Church and in the country had, in many ways, reached 
 its fulness. Had it pleased God so to order it, he 
 would doubtless have meekly accepted the burden of 
 an enfeebled old age spent in retirement, or, by divine 
 grace, would have patiently endured protracted sujffer- 
 
 * Wliat remained to be done was rapidly executed after his death. 
 Three of the Mission Chapels were endowed as parishes by three of his 
 friends — Kelvinhaugh and Bluevale (the first and the last ho built), 
 being severally endowed by Mr. Whitelaw and Mr. James Baird, and 
 his own Mission Church erected into what is now called ' The Macleod 
 Parish,' by Mr. J. II. Houldsworth. The congregation of the Barony 
 completed in like manner the remaining parochial appliances which 
 he had projected, and built a Memorial Missionary Institute in a 
 destitute part of the parish. 
 
THE FUNERAL. 393 
 
 iiig, and watched with fortitude the slow approach of 
 certain death. Eut neither of these experiences — 
 both so trying to a temperament like his — was allotted 
 to him. His active nature did not survive its useful- 
 ness ; and instead of being kept under what, to his 
 vivid imagination, might have been the appalling con- 
 sciousness of life slowly ebbing away, his spirit passed, 
 without a struggle, into that Presence in which his 
 thoughts and affections had long made themselves a 
 beloved abode. 
 
 The news of his death passed with extraordinary 
 speed through the kingdom, and everywhere produced 
 a profound impression. No man, since Chalmers, was 
 so much mourned in Scotland. People who had never 
 exchanged a word with him felt and S23oke as if a 
 personal friend had been taken away, and those who 
 had deemed it their duty sometimes to oppose him 
 even with bitterness, were the foremost to pay honour 
 to the rich humanity and religious nobleness, which 
 had raised him above the influence of all party strife. 
 
 A vague rumour of his death having reached the 
 Queen she at once telegraphed for information, and 
 with that ready sympathy which has so endeared her 
 to the nation, she addressed the following letter to his 
 brother : — 
 
 Balmoral, Jtme VWi, 1872. 
 
 " The Queen hardly knows how to begin a letter to Mr. 
 Donald Macleod, so deep and strong are her feelings on 
 this most sad and most painful occasion — for words are all 
 too weak to say what she feels, and what all must feel 
 who ever knew his beloved, excellent, and highly gifted 
 brother, Dr. Norman Macleod ! 
 
 First of all, to his family — his venerable, loved, and 
 
394 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 honoured mother, his wife and large family of children — 
 the loss of this good man is irreparable and overwhelming ! 
 But it is an irrej)arable pul>lic loss, and the Queen feels 
 this deeply. To herself personally, the loss of dear Dr. 
 Macleod is a very great one ; he was so kind, and on all 
 occasions showed her such warm sympathy, and in the 
 early days of her great sorrow, gave the Queen so much 
 comfort whenever she saw him, that she always looked 
 forward eagerly to those occasions when she saw him here ; 
 and she cannot realise the idea that in this world she is 
 never to see his kind face, and listen to those admirable 
 discourses Avhich did every one good, and to his charming 
 conversation again ! 
 
 " The Queen is gratified that she was able to see him 
 this last time, and to have some lengthened conversation 
 with him, when he dwelt much on that future world to 
 which he now belongs. He was sadly depressed and suf- 
 fering, but still so near a termination of his career of 
 intense usefulness and loving-kindness, never struck her 
 or any of us as likely, and the Queen Avas terribly shocked 
 on learning the sad, sad news. All her children, present 
 and absent, deeply mourn his loss. The Queen would be 
 very grateful for all the details which Mr. D. Macleod can 
 give her of the last moments and illness of her dear friend. 
 
 "Pray, say everything kind and sympathising to their 
 venerable mother, to Mrs. N. Macleod, and all the family ; 
 and she asks him to accept himself of her true heart-felt 
 sympathy." 
 
 Among many valued tributes of respect paid to his 
 memory, but which it would be superfluous to mention 
 here in detail,* there was one that, for many reasons, 
 has a peculiar interest. 
 
 * Among these may be mentioned the touching allusions made on 
 the Sunflay after his biirial in so many of the pulpits of all churchea 
 in the kingdom; and of these there were none truer or more beautiful 
 than those spoken in the Barony by Dr. "Watson of Dundee, and Dr. 
 Taj'lor of Crathie. Many kind notices of his life appeared at the time 
 in the Press, among which was an exquisite sketch of his career 
 and character, contributed to the Times bj' Dean Stanley; and simi- 
 
THE FUNERAL. 395 
 
 The Arclibishop of Canterbury, with characteristic 
 catholicity of spirit, thus addressed the Moderator of 
 the Church of Scotland : — 
 
 Lambeth Palace, Londok, June l9iA, 1873. 
 
 " My dear Moderator, 
 
 " Will you allo-w me to express to you 
 officially the deep feeling of sorrow with which I have 
 heard of the loss that has befallen the Established Church 
 of Scotland by the death of Dr. Norman Macleod ? He 
 was so widely known in England as well as in Scotland, 
 and, indeed, wherever our mother tongue is spoken, that 
 his death seems a national loss. So zealous, large-hearted, 
 and gifted a pastor could ill be spared at any time to the 
 Christian Church. While his own people lament that 
 they no longer hear his familiar voice, winning them by 
 his wise spoken counsels, his written words will be missed 
 in thousands of homes in every quarter of the world ; and 
 the Established Church, over which you preside, will deeply 
 
 larly affectionate and appreciative papers were wi'itten by Dr. "Walter 
 Smith in Qood Words, and by Mr. Strahan in the Conteviporary . 
 Addresses of condolence were sent to his family from such public 
 bodies as the Presbytery of Glasgow, the India Mission, the Barony 
 Kirk Session, the Barony Sabbath School Association, the Bible 
 Society, the Sunday School Society of Stockport, the Scottish Amicable 
 Insurance Society, of which he was a director, the Sons of the Clergy, 
 and several others. A tablet to his memory has been put up in the 
 Parish Church of Loudoun, where his early labours are still cherished 
 in the affectionate memory of the people, and a statue is about to be 
 erected in Glasgow. At Crathie, two stained windows have been placed 
 in the church by Her Majesty — the one bearing a figure of King David, 
 and the other one of St. Paul — representing the gifts of poetry and 
 missionary zeal. On the former there is inscribed : — " In Memory of 
 the Eev. Norman Macleod, D.D., Dean of the Most Noble and Most 
 Ancient Order of the Thistle, Dean of the Chapel Eoyal, and One of 
 Her Majesty's Chaplains, a man eminent in the Church, honoured in 
 the State, and in many lands greatly beloved ; " on the other, the 
 text — ' They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firma- 
 ment ; and thej' that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever 
 and ever.' — Dan. xii. 3. Several months after his death, his family 
 were surprised and gratified by finding the competency he had provided 
 for them largely inci'eased by those who had loved him ; and this was 
 done in a manner so delicate, as to make the mention of it here a 
 privilege. 
 
396 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 feel the removal of one who hold so high a place amongst 
 its wisest and most strenuous defenders. 
 
 *' Believe me to be, my dear Moderator, 
 " Your faithful servant, 
 
 "A. C. Cantuar." 
 
 It is "unfortunately so seldom the representatives of 
 the National Churches of England and Scotland ex- 
 change official communications, that this letter becomes 
 the more remarkable as indicating at once the wide 
 influence exercised by Dr. Macleod, and the reality of 
 that unity in virtue of which, if one branch of the 
 Church suffers, the whole Church suffers with it. 
 
 His funeral took place on Thursday, the 20th, and 
 was celebrated with a solemnity unparalleled in the 
 history of the city with which his laboui's were so 
 long associated. 
 
 The day was of hoavenly beauty, seeming the more 
 beautiful that it had been preceded and was followed 
 by days of storm. There was a private service at his 
 own house, for the members of his family, at which 
 his friend Dr. Watson officiated, and from his house 
 to the Barony church, where his remains were first 
 borne, the streets were lined with an observant multi- 
 tude. The Barony church was filled with the members 
 of his own congregation, and of his Mission churches, 
 and the venerable Cathedi'al seemed doubly solemn 
 from the reverent throng of mourning friends and 
 representatives of public bodies gathered there to 
 do honour to the dead. 
 
 Among those present were Dr. Robertson, Queen's 
 commissioner, sent by Her Majesty to represent Her- 
 self and the Prince of Wales, and the Hon. E. C. 
 
THE FUNERAL. 397 
 
 Yorke, who acted in a similar capacity for the Duke 
 of Edinburgh. 
 
 The service in the Barony was conducted by Dr. 
 Burns, the miriister of the Cathedral, and by Dr. 
 Walter C. Smith, of the Free Church, while Professor 
 Eadie, of the United Presbyterian Chui'ch, and Dr. 
 Smith, of North Leith, officiated in the Cathedral. 
 
 When the solemn services were concluded, the cor- 
 tege was accompanied to the outskirts of the city by 
 the magistrates of Glasgow, the sheriffs, the repre- 
 sentatives of Eoyalty, the senate of the University, and 
 by other public functionaries in their official robes ; by 
 clergymen of all Churches, gathered from many dis- 
 tricts of the country, and by the members of various 
 religious and other societies with which he had been 
 connected. These preceded the hearse, and behind it 
 and the mourning relatives, there followed a long line of 
 nearly three thousand persons of all classes of the com- 
 munity. This demonstration of respect was the more 
 gratifying that it was entirely spontaneous. As the 
 great procession moved on to the sad music of the 
 ' Dead March,' it was watched along the whole route 
 by a vast multitude, occupying every available position 
 from which a view could be obtaiued, and showing 
 by their saddened aspect how deeply the hearts of 
 the people had been touched. One of the most 
 remarkable features in that crowd was the large pro- 
 portion of working men and of the poor, who came to 
 pay honour to the memory of him who had laboured 
 so earnestly for their good. More than one touching 
 testimony was audibly expressed by these onlookers 
 to the benefit they had received from him. '■ There 
 
398 
 
 LIFE OF NORMAN MACLEOD. 
 
 goes Norman Macleod,' a brawny working man was 
 heard saying, as the dark column moved past ; ' if he 
 had done no more than what he did for my soul, ho 
 would shine as the stars for ever.' 
 
 As the funeral approached Campsie, it was not only 
 met by many friends, but as business had been for, 
 the time suspended in the town, and the shops closed, 
 the entire population united in paying respect to the 
 
 honoured dead, whose ashes were to rest in the old 
 parish where his early life had been spent. 
 
 He was laid beside his father, and as the grave 
 which was prepared for him was discovered, unex- 
 pectedly, to be that of James, the two brothers, whose 
 lives had been linked by the holiest of all ties, were 
 thus united in their last resting-place. 
 
 Ere the coffin was lowered, three wreaths of Immor- 
 telles were placed upon it. The fii'st bore the inscrip- 
 
THE FUNERAL. 399 
 
 tion, ' A token of respect and friendship from Queen 
 Victoria ; ' the second, ' A token of respect from 
 Prince Leopold,' and the thii'd, 'A token of respect 
 from Princess Beatrice.' 
 
 The spot where he sleeps is a suggestive emblem of 
 his life. On the one side are the hum of business and 
 the houses of toiling humanity. On the other, green 
 pastoral hills, and the silence of Highland solitudes. 
 More than one eye rested that day on the sunny slope 
 where he had so lately dreamt of building a home for 
 his old age — more than one heart thanked God for the 
 more glorious mansion into which he had entered. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 A. 
 
 Address presented before landing at Bombay. 
 
 To The Revehend Norman Macleod, D.D. 
 
 ♦* Steamship Rangoon, 
 
 " 25th Nov., 1867. 
 "Reverend and Dear Sir, 
 
 " We, the Captain, Officers, and Passengers on board the 
 steamship Rmujoon, cannot bid you adieu without expressing our 
 grateful sense of the peculiar privilege we have enjoyed in your 
 society and your ministrations. 
 
 " As being all of us connected with India, we cannot but feel 
 an. I believe that the visit to that country of one who exercises so 
 great and beneficial an influence on public opinion at home must 
 be productive of the greatest benefit. 
 
 " We all most sincerely unite in wishing you and your colleague 
 Dr. Watson a prosperous journey, and a safe and happy return to 
 your country and families. 
 
 " We beg to remain, 
 
 " Reverend and dear Sir, 
 
 " Yours gratefully and aflfectionately, 
 
 (Signed) 
 
 "D. RoNALDSON, Captain. 
 
 " Campbell Keir, Solicitor. 
 
 «'G. A. Leckie, Col., B. Staff Corps. 
 
 *' George Campbell, Commissioner at Nagpore. 
 
 " W. D. Robertson, C.S., Bombay. 
 
 ** M. Mull, F. of India Newspaper. 
 
 "A. A. MuNRo, Major, Bengal Army. 
 
 " John M. Champion, Major, R.E. 
 
 " J. H. B. Hallen, B. Army, Inspector of Garrisons. 
 
 " Wm. Thorn, M.D., B. Army. 
 
 *' John D. Fuller, Lieut.-Col., R.E. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 401 
 
 VOL. II, 
 
 "A. E. Haighly, B.A. Revenue Survey. 
 
 " H. E. Bright, Esq., or Ensign, 
 
 *' Thomas D. Rogees. 
 
 "James Sheldon. 
 
 "Jessie M'Culloch. 
 
 ** Frances Marriott. 
 
 "Anna M. Lynch. 
 
 " S. M'CuLLOCH, Barrister. 
 
 " George Birdwood, M.D. 
 
 " Arthur Phelps, Capt., B. Staff Corps, 
 
 " M. Edwards, Ben. C.S. 
 
 " Helena Sorter. 
 
 "F. J. Oliphant. 
 
 " J. H. Champion, Lieut-Col. 
 
 " Fredk. Jas. Parsons, B. Staff. Corps, 
 
 " Maria Berthon. 
 
 " Charlotte Webb. 
 
 " Jeanie Cameron. 
 
 " Alice Thomas. 
 
 " R. A. Elphinstone, Major, B. Staff. Corps. 
 
 " John Wm. Yorke Fishbourne, M.D, 
 
 " William F. Best. 
 
 " Diana J. Walton. 
 
 " G. Boileau Reid, B.C.S. 
 
 " Mary S. Walker. 
 
 "J. W. Sanderson. 
 
 "M. J. O'Kearny. 
 
 ** Wm. Morland. 
 
 "Art. Richmond, Assist. Surg. 
 
 " Wm. Fuller, Col., R.H.A. 
 
 "M. A. Tapp. 
 
 " E. Edwards. 
 
 "J. D. Williams. 
 
 " H. A. Williams, Col., R.S. 
 
 "G. E. Thomas, B. Staff Corps. 
 
 " Walter Pains. 
 
 " George S. Lynch, Solicitor. 
 
 " W. PORTEOUS, C.S. 
 
 "F. Stanger Leathes, Solicitor. 
 "Wm. M. Leckie, Lieut-Col., B.N.L 
 "J. Bayley, Capt., 7th Hussars. 
 "J. M. G. Bayley. 
 "A. Y. EIennedy. 
 
 D J> 
 
401 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 M. A. Elphinstone. 
 
 * J. A. Slater. 
 
 ' Agnes J. Hill. 
 
 * RoBT. Brown, C.E. 
 'Janet V. Munro. 
 
 * W. S. C. LocKHART, Bengal Cavalry, 
 ' C. A. Heller. 
 
 ' C. L. D. Newmarch, Col., Bengal E. 
 
 *A. W. Newmarch. 
 
 ' Wm. Clonstar, Civil Engineer. 
 
 * George Arbutunot, Capt., and A.D.C, 
 *L. B. Hallett, Capt., B. Staff Corps. 
 
 * W. S. Hallett. 
 
 * Wm. B. Preston, Capt,, B. Staff Corps. 
 ' Tho. Ed. Rodger. 
 
 * Emily J, Thorn. 
 
 * George M. Huckebert 
 
 * Stephen H. M'Thirne, C.S. 
 ' J. Ireland. 
 
 ' St. Clair Ireland. 
 
 'T. S. Ireland. 
 
 ' James W. Noble, P. and 0. Co. 
 
 ' Charles Turner. 
 
 * W. Birthon, Major, Staff Coi'ps, 
 
 * Afleck Moodie, Barrister. 
 ' Annie Best. 
 
 * Georgina a. Taylor, 
 
 * Henry S. Kinncard. 
 
 ' J. L. Johnston, C.E. 
 ' J. Jackson. 
 
 R. T. Hare, Capt. 
 ' G. A. Hare. 
 
 * A. C. Howden, Civil Engineer, 
 •Mrs. A. C. Howden." 
 
 B. 
 
 Cojyy of Medical Certificate, 
 
 ** CERTrFiED that we have carefully examined into tho state of health 
 of the Rev. Norman Macleod, D.D., and we are unanimously of 
 
APPENDIX. 403 
 
 opinion, that it would be attended with danger to his life, should 
 he persist in his intention of continuing his tour to Sealkote. 
 
 " We consider that he ought to leave India at the latest on the 
 8rd March, and till then, we believe that he may with safety visit 
 any stations which can be reached by rail. 
 
 (Signed) 
 
 "J. Fakquhar, M.D. 
 
 Sur(jeon to Viceroy. 
 " J. Fayer, M.D. 
 "J. Edmonston Charles, M.D., 
 
 M.R.C.P. Lond., Art. Obstet. Prof. 
 «* Calcutta, Qth February, 1868. 
 
 c. 
 
 Extract from Address on Missions. 
 
 ". . . . What, then, it may be asked, have missions done 
 generally for India ? What measure of success have they had, 
 or are they likely to have ? Or such questions may be summed 
 up in the more general and inclusive one, What is the state and 
 what are the prospects of Christianity in India ? 
 ^ " In attempting, in the most general manner, to deal with ques- 
 tions which demand volumes instead of a speech, however long, 
 to reply to them, I shall assume for the moment that I am 
 addressing here, or through the reporters, those only who have not 
 thought or inquired much on the subject. 
 
 " Recollect, then, that we are speaking of a country of enormous 
 extent, with a population of at least 180,000,000, the Bengal 
 Presi lency alone numbering more than the whole empire *of 
 Austria— that this great country is occupied by various races from 
 the most savage to the most cultivated, having various religious 
 beliefs, and speaking languages which differ from each other as 
 much as Gaelic does from Italian, most of them broken up by 
 dialects so numerous as practically to form probably twenty 
 separate languages. Remember that the vast majority of this 
 people have inherited a religion and a civilisation, of which I shall 
 have to speak afterwards, from a vast antiquity. Recollect, 
 further, that the attempt to impart the truth and life of Chris- 
 tianity to this great mass has been systematically begun by the 
 Protestant Church in British India within the memory of living 
 men ; so that the age of our Scottish missions is represented by 
 
 D D 2 
 
404 APPENDIX. 
 
 Dr. Duff, who commenced them, and still lives to aid them in con- 
 nection with the Free Church. Realise, if you can, the difficulties 
 which the missionaries engaged in such a tremendous enterprise 
 have had to overcome in the ignorance and indifference, even the 
 opposition, of professing Chrstians at home, and of timid European 
 otiicials abroad ; their want, for a time, of the very tools and in- 
 sti'umeuts with which to conduct their operations ; their ignorance 
 of the language, of the religious systems, of the mental habits and 
 national idiosyncrasies of the people; their want of a Bible which 
 could be used, and of an educated people who could read it, and 
 of any Christian natives able and willing to interpret it to their 
 countrymen. Remember, finally, the agencies which are at 
 present labouring in India before asking the question as to results. 
 There are in Indin, say, in round numbers, five hundred European 
 and Amei'ican missionaries. You will notice that the members of 
 this General Assembly, with those of the Assembly of the Free 
 Church meeting in our immediate neighbourhood, number more 
 than the whole mission staff in British India. Yet these Assem- 
 blies represent two churches only in all Scotland ; while all Scot- 
 land's inhabitants would hardly be missed out of one district of 
 Bengal alone ! Or, let us put the proportion of missionaries to 
 the population in another way : There are in England and Scot- 
 land about 3G,000 ordained Protestant clergy of every denomina- 
 tion, supported at a cost of several millions annually. These 
 clergy have, moreover, connected with them a vast agency, 
 amounting to hundreds of thousands of Sunday-school teachers, 
 local missionaries, Scripture readers, elders, and deacons, teachers 
 of Christian schools, and pious members of churches, who are 
 engaged in diffusing a knowledge of Christianity, and in dispensing 
 its practical blessings in ways and forms innumerable. Now, sup- 
 pose all this great agi ncy taken across the ocean and located in 
 the Presidency of Bengal alone, leaving all the rest of India as it 
 is, giving not one missionary to the Presidency of Madras with a 
 population of twenty-two millions ; none to Bombay or Sciudh 
 with twelve millions; none to the North- West Province; with 
 thirty millions ; none to the Punjab with fourteen millions ; none 
 to Oudh with eight millions ; none to the Central Provinces with 
 six millions ; none to other districts with five millions — but giving 
 all to Bengal, and confining their ministrations there to a popula- 
 tion equal to that wliich they left behind in all England and Scot- 
 land, there would still remain in that Presidency a surplus popu' 
 lation of fourteen viillio)is tcithont a simjh missionanj '. Without 
 presuming to solve the problem when that blessed period is to 
 
APPENDIX. 405 
 
 arrive in which, having no more to do at home, we may be set 
 free to do more for India, I wish you at present to understand 
 what is being done by us, aloncj with ether countries, for the dif- 
 fusion of Christianity in the Eastern, as compared with this, the 
 Northern, portion of our great empire. Now, assuming as I do 
 that the missionaries abroad are equal to our missionaries — or, 
 what is the same thing, our ministers at home — yet, deducting 
 from their small band of five hundred men those who are advanced 
 in years, and whose day is well-nigh done — those who are young 
 and inexperienced, and whose day is hardly begun — those who 
 have not the gifts, or the knowledge, or the mental habits, or the 
 spiritual power which is required for thoroughly effective work — 
 and deducting also, as I presume we must do, a few who are un- 
 fit from other causes, such as sloth or mere professionalism, then 
 we necessarily reduce the number of such men as are able to cope 
 with the gigantic evils and errors of India — men able by the power 
 of their teaching and of their character to impress the observant and 
 thinking natives with a sense of the truth and glory of Chris- 
 tianity. In regard, however, to the moral character of all those 
 missionaries, I rejoice to say that our information, derived from 
 every quarter, fully reahsed our hopes that they were worthy of 
 the Churches which had sent them forLh. Hindoos and Christians, 
 natives and Europeans of every rank and class, were unanimous in 
 their hearty testimony upon this point, and fully appreciated the 
 unselfishness of their motives, the sincerity of their convictions, 
 their intimate knowledge of and interest in the natives, and the 
 wholesomeness of their influence upon the whole body of Indian 
 society. Among these missionaries, too, there are some every- 
 where who, as regards mental power, learning, and earnestness, 
 would do honour to any Church, and who have largely contributed 
 to advance the interests of social science. Oriental literature and 
 history, as well as of Christianity, and who have a right to deepest 
 respect, sympathy, and gratitude from all who have at heart the 
 conversion of India. It is gratifying and assuring to know, also, 
 that the number of missionaries and of their stations is steadily 
 on the increase, while conversions increase in a still greater ratio. 
 
 "I have not, of course, spoken here of the labours or influence 
 of chaplains with reference to missions. In numerous instances 
 these have been very effective, but the}'^ might be greater in many 
 more. Nor have I alluded to the English bishops, who, as a rule, 
 liave been, as gentlemen of learning and highest character, an 
 honour to the Church and to Christianity. 
 
 " But we have been taking into our calculation the difficulties only 
 
4o6 APPENDIX. 
 
 on onr own side, so to speak, in the "way of imparting knowledge 
 to the natives of India. Ought we not also to consider the diffi- 
 culties of the other side in receiving our message ? Of these, as 
 peculiar to Hindoos, I shall have occasion to speak afterwards ; 
 but here I would have you remember that, in addition to the diffi- 
 culties common to inert, slothful, prejudiced, and self-satisfied 
 people in every part of the world, — in Christendom as well as 
 heathendom, — to change any opinion, however erroneous or inde- 
 fensible, or any habit, however foolish or absurd, the natives of 
 India generally, among other hindrances, have presented to them 
 for their acceptance a religion wholly different in ]dnd from all 
 they or their fathers ever heard of or believed in. It therefore 
 demands time, intelligence, and patience to examine and under- 
 stand it even when preached to them. It is a religion, moreover, 
 which they have never seen adequately embodied or expressed in 
 its social aspects, whether of the Church or the family, but only 
 as a creed; and this, too, of a strange people, whom, as a rule, 
 they dislike, as being alien to them in language, in race, in feel- 
 ings, and manners, and who have conquered and revolutionised 
 their country by acts, as they think, of cruelty, injustice, and 
 avarice. 
 
 " But let us suppose that the intelligent and educated Hindoo has 
 been convinced by English education of the falsehood of his own 
 religion. I beg of you to realise and to sympathize with hisS diffi- 
 culties of another kind, when Christianity, as the only true religion, 
 is presented to him for his acceptance. He has brought his Brah- 
 minical creed and practices, we shall assume, under the light of 
 reason, conscience, and science, for their judgment, and he has 
 had pronounced upon them the sentence of condemnation. He 
 has discovered that he has hitherto believed a lie, and been the 
 slave of a degrading or childish superstidon. But must he not 
 subject this new religion of Christianity, with its sacred books, to 
 the same scrutiny, and judge of them by the same light '? Up- 
 questionably he must ; and so far a great point is gained, and one 
 most hopeful to the accomphshed and earnest missionary, Avhen 
 his teaching is examined honestly and sincerely in the light of 
 truth, instead of being judged by the mere authority of custom or 
 tradition. But such an investigation necessarily implies a tri;'l of 
 the severest and yet of the noblest kind, both to the inquirer and 
 his teacher. And we need not be surprised if the first and most 
 general, indeed, I might say, the universal, result of this scrutiny 
 on the part of the Hindoo, should bo the impression that Chris- 
 tianity, us a religion whose characteristic and essential doctrines 
 
APPENDIX. 407 
 
 are alleged facts, is but another form of superstition, with false 
 miracles, false science, and false everything, which professes to 
 belong to the region of the supernatural. These difficulties are 
 moreover increased and intensified by those schools of thought 
 which at present, and as a reaction from the past, exercise such 
 an influence in Europe and America. Their views and opinions 
 are in every possible form reproduced in India, and take root the 
 more readily, owing to the remarkable inability of the Hindoo 
 mind, whatever be its cause, to weigh historical evidence, and to 
 appreciate the value of facts in their bearing on the grounds of 
 religious belief. 
 
 "If to this is added the manner in which Christianity, even as a 
 creed, has sometimes, we fear, by truly Christian men, been repre- 
 sented, or rather misrepresented — with its doctrines, if not falsely 
 put, yet sometimes put in a harsh, distorted, one-sided, or exag- 
 gerated light, proclaimed with little love, and defended with less 
 logic — we shall be the more prepared to weigh the results of Chris- 
 tian missions with some approximation to the truth. 
 
 " In so far as the results of missions in India can be given by 
 mere statistics, these have been collected with remarkable care, 
 and published in 1864 by Dr. Mullens, himself an able and dis- 
 tinguished missionary. From these we gather that there are in 
 round numbers about 140,000 natives in Hindostan professing 
 Christianity ; 28,000 in communion ; with upwards of 900 native 
 churches, which contribute £10,000 annually for the support of 
 the Gospel. About 100 natives have been ordained to the 
 ministry, while 1,300 labour as catechists. Upwards of 33.000 
 boys and 8,000 girls receive a Christian education at mission 
 schools. As a means as well as a result of mission work, I may 
 state that the whole Bible has been translated into fourteen of the 
 languages of India, including all the principal tongues of tlie 
 empire ; the New Testament into five more ; and twenty separate 
 books of the Old and New Testament into seven more. Thrso 
 mission agencies are scattered over all India, and shine as sources 
 of intellectual, moral, and Christian light amidst the surrounding 
 darkness of heathenism. Now, surely some good and lasting work 
 has been thus done, and seed sown by these means, which may yet 
 spring up in the hearts of men. 
 
 " But I will by no means peril the results of missions on any 
 mere statistics. Not that I have any doubt as to the care and 
 honesty with which these have been furnished or collected, but 
 because of the impossibility of obtaining by this method a just 
 impression of what has been actually accomplished by Christian 
 
4o8 APPENDIX. 
 
 missions. To some they would seem to prove too much, tinless 
 the races, the districts, the beliefs out of which fiie conversions 
 have come are taken into account, along with the intelligence and 
 character of the converts. To most they might prove less than 
 they are capable of proving, as they afford no evidence of the 
 indirect results of missions, or of what is being more and more 
 eifected by them on the whole tone and spirit of Hindoo society, 
 as preparatory to deeper and more extensive ultimate results. 
 Nevertheless, the more the real value of the work which has been 
 accomplished is judged of by the individual history of those re- 
 turned as converts, making every deduction which can with fair- 
 ness be demanded for want of knowledge, want of moral strength, 
 or want of influence, there yet remains such a number of native 
 converts of intelligence and thorough sincerity, such a number of 
 native Christian clergy of acquirements, mental power, and elo- 
 quence, and of strength of convictions and practical piety, as com- 
 mands the respect of even educated and high-caste Hindoos. Such 
 facts disprove, at least, the bold assertions of those who allege that 
 missions have done nothing in India. One fact, most creditable 
 to native Christians, oui^ht not to be forgotten by us — that of the 
 two thousand involved in the troubles of the Mutiny, all proved 
 loyal, six only apostatised, and even they afterwards returned. 
 
 " But in estimating the present condition of India with reference 
 to the probable overthrow of its false religions, and the substitu- 
 tion for them of a living Christianity, we must look at India as a 
 whole. Now, we are all aware of the vast changes which have 
 taken place during a comparatively recent period in most of those 
 customs, which, though strictly religious according to the views of 
 the Brahmans, are now prohibited by law, and have parsed, or 
 are rapidly passing, away in practice — such as Suttee, infanticide, 
 the self-tortures and deaths of fanatics at great idol-festivals, &c. 
 We know, too, of other reforms which must be in the end success- 
 ful, such as those affecting the marriage of widows, polygamy, the 
 education of females, &c. Such facts indicate great changes in 
 public opinion, and that the tide of thought has turned, and is 
 slowly but surely rising, soon to float off or immerse all the idols 
 of India. In truth, the whole intelligent and informed mind of 
 India, native and European, is convinced, and multitudes within a 
 wider circle more than suspect, that, come what may in its place, 
 idolatry is doomed. The poor and ignorant millions will be the 
 last to perceive any such revolution. They will continue to visit 
 and bathe in their old muddy stream, as their ancestors have done 
 daring vast ages, wondering at first why those whom they have 
 
APPENDIX. 409 
 
 been taught to follow as tbcir religious guides have left its hanks, 
 and drink no more of its waters, wondering most of all when at 
 last they discover these waters to be dried up. Others of a higher 
 intelligence may endeavour for a while to purify them, or to give 
 a symbolic and spiritual meaning to the very mud and filth which 
 cannot be separated from them. Men of greater learning and finer 
 spiritual mould will seek to drink from those purer fountains that 
 bubble up in the distant heights of their own Vedas, at the water- 
 shed of so many holy streams, and ere these have become contami- 
 nated with the more earthy mixtures of the lower valleys. But all 
 are doomed. For neither the filthy and symbolic stream of the 
 Puranas, nor the purer fountain of the Vedas alone, can satisfy 
 the thirst of the heart of man, more especially when it has once 
 tasted the waters of life as brought to us by Jesus Christ : or, to 
 change the simile, although the transition between the old and 
 new may be a wide expanse of desert filled up with strange 
 mirages, fantastic forms, and barren wastes, yet whether this 
 generation or another may reach the Land of Promise flowing with 
 milk and honey, the people must now leave Egypt with its idols, 
 and in spite of murmurings, regrets, and rebellions, can return to 
 it no more. 
 
 " When I thus speak of the destruction of Hindooism, I am far 
 from attributing this result solely to the efforts of missionaries, 
 though these have not only taken a most worthy share in the 
 work of destruction, but have also laboured at the more difficult 
 and more important work of construction. The whole varied and 
 combined forces of Western civilisation must be taken into account. 
 The indomitable power of England, with the extension of its 
 government and the justice of its administration, has, in spite of 
 every drawback that can be charged against it, largely contributed 
 to this result. So also, in their own way, have railroads and tele- 
 graphs, helping to unite even outwardly the people and the several 
 parts of India to each other, and all to Europe. The light which 
 has been shed by the Oriental scholars of Europe upon the sacred 
 books and ancient literature of the Hindoos, has been an incal- 
 culable advantage to the missionary, and to all who wish to 
 understand and to instruct the people of India. But nothing has 
 BO directly and rapidly told upon their intellectual and moral history 
 as the eduLjation which they owe solely to European wisdom and 
 energy. The wave-line which marks its flow, marks also the ebb 
 of idolatry. This influence will be more easily appi-eciated when 
 it is remembered that 3,089,000 Hindoos and about 90,000 Mo- 
 hammedans attend Government schools, and upwards of 40,000 
 
410 APPENDIX. 
 
 of these attend schools which educate up to a University entrnnce 
 standard, in which English is a branch of examination. These 
 schools have been found fault with because they do not directly 
 teach religion. It has been said that they practically make all 
 their pupils mere Deists. But apart from the dilhcultics which 
 attend any attempt on the part of Government to do more, even 
 were it to assume the grave responsibility of determining what 
 system of theology should be taught, and of selecting the men to 
 teach it, yet surely Deism is a great advance on Hindooism. If a 
 man occupies a position half-way between the valley and the 
 mountain-top, that alone cannot determine whether he is ascend- 
 ing or descending. We must know the point from which he has 
 started on his journey. Thus departing from the low level of the 
 Puranas, it seems to me that the Hindoo pupil who has reached 
 the Theism of even the Vedas only, has ascended towards the purer 
 and far-seeing heights of Christian revelation. Anyhow, the fact 
 is certain, whatever be the ultimate results, that education itself, 
 which opens up a new world to the native eye, has destroyed his 
 old world as a system of religious belief. 
 
 '* I know few things, indeed, which strike one more w^ho for the 
 first time comes into contact with an educated native, than hearing 
 him converse in the purest English on subjects and in a manner 
 which are associated, not with oriental dress and features, but 
 with all that is cultivated and refined at home. You feel at once 
 that hero at least is a way opened up for communication by the 
 mighty power of a common language, and of a mind so trained 
 and taught as to be able thoroughly to comprehend and discuss all 
 we wish to teach or explain. The traveller sometimes accidentally 
 meets with other evidences of the silent but efi'ective influences of 
 English education. I remember, for example, visiting with my 
 friend a heathen temple in Southern India. It was a great day, 
 on which festive crowds had assembled to do honour to a famous 
 Guru. There were some thousands within and without the temple. 
 While seeking to obtain an entrance, we were surrounded by an 
 eager and inquisitive crowd, but civil and courteous, as we ever 
 found the natives to be. Soon we were addressed in good English 
 by a native, and then by about a dozen more who were taking 
 part in the ceremonies of the place. After some conversation I 
 asked them, the crowd beyond this inner circle listening to but not 
 comprehending us, whether they believed in all this idolatry ? 
 One, speaking for the rest, said, ' We do.' But from his smile. 
 and knowing the effects of such education as he had evidently 
 acquired, I said kindly to him, ' My friend, I candidly tell you 
 
APPENDIX. 411 
 
 that I don't think you believe a bit of it.' He laughed, and snid, 
 ' You are right, sir, we believe nothing ! ' * What ? ' I asked ; 
 ' nothing ? not even your own existence ? ' * Oh yes, we bclievo 
 that,' he repHed. ' And no existence higher than your own ? ' I 
 continued to inquire. * Yes,' he said, ' we beheve in a great 
 God who has created all things.' ' But if so, why then this 
 idolatry?' I asked again. 'We wish to honour our fathers,' 
 said another of the group to my question. On which the first 
 speaker addressed his countryman, saying, ' What did your fathers 
 ever do for you ? Did they give you the steam-engine, or 
 the railway, or the telegraph ? ' Then turning to me, he said, 
 with a smile, ' Though we must keep up and cannot forsake 
 these national customs while they exist in our country, and our 
 people believe in them, yet, if you educate the people they will 
 give them up of themselves, and so they will pass away.' What- 
 ever may have been the intention of the speaker, I believe this 
 conversation gives a fair impression, not of the deepest and most 
 earnest minds in Hindostan, but of the mind of tho ordinary pupil 
 who has received an English education, though little more. It is 
 thus, however, that all things are working together for the ultimate 
 conversion of India to the truth and life of Christianity under 
 Him who is the Head of all things to His Church. 
 
 " In endeavouring to sketch, however rapidly and imperfectly, the 
 general results of all the combined forces I have alluded to, I must 
 not omit to notice the religious school of the Brahmo Sonuij. The 
 educated and more enlightened Hindoos occupy almost every 
 position of religious belief between that of a little less than pure 
 Brahmanism and a little less than pure Christianity. Some defend 
 idolatry as being a mere outward symbolic worship of the one 
 God everywhere the same, and also as a national custom ; and, 
 without opposing Christianity, they would have it remain as one of 
 many other religions, asking, as has been done indignantly and in 
 the name of ' Christianity which preaches love to one's enemies,' 
 ' Why should the God of Jesus Christ be at daggers-drawing with 
 the Gods of heathendom ? " Others are more enlightened and 
 more sincere. Of these, the greatest undoubtedly wiis the late 
 Rajah Rammohun Roy, one of the most learned and accomplished 
 men in India. In order to obtain a religion at once true and 
 national, he fell back on the Vedas as embodying a pure Mono- 
 theism, rejecting at the same time the authority of all later Hindoo 
 books, however venerable, from the heroic Mahabharat and Rama- 
 yana down to the Puranas. He did not, however, despise or reject 
 the New Testament, but gathered from it and published * The 
 
412 APPENDIX. 
 
 Precepts of Jesus the Guide to Happiness.' He called his Church, — • 
 for his followers were organised into a sociftty which met for wor- 
 ship, — ' The I5rahmo ' (the neuter impersonal name for the supreme) 
 ' Shabha,' now changed into ' Somaj,' or assembly. The posi- 
 tion thus occupied by the Rajah is yet to a large extent maintained 
 by the representatives of the old Hindoo Conservative party, 
 whether their Church is called the ' Yeda Somaj,' or ' Prathana 
 Somaj.' But the Vedas having been found untenable by others, 
 as tending necessarily to pure Pantheism, a religious system with 
 better foundations was accordingly sought for, and afler in vain 
 endeavouring to discover it in ' Nature,' or to evolve it from 
 * Intuition,' the new movement has, under the guidance of 
 Keshub Chunder Sen, approached Christianity. After having 
 heard that distinguished man preach, and having seen the response 
 given to his teaching by his splendid audience, numbering the 
 most enlightened natives as well as Europeans in Calcutta, and 
 after having had a very pleasing conversation with him, I cannot 
 but indulge the hope, from his sincerity, his earnestness, as well 
 as from his logic, that in the end he will be led to accept the 
 whole truth as it is in Jesus. But of one thing I feel profoundly 
 convinced, that the Brahma Somaj, which numbers thousands of 
 adherents, is to be attributed indirectly to the teaching and labours 
 of Christian missionaries ; and its existence, in spite of all I have 
 read and heard against it, brightens my hopes of India's future. 
 
 " I would here remind you of facts in the history of the 
 Chui'ch in past ages as worthy of being remembered, in order to 
 modify the eager desires of the too sanguine as to immediate 
 results, and to cheer the hopes of the too desponding as to 
 future results, as "well as to check the rash conclusions of those 
 "who, arguing from the past history of a few years, prophesy no 
 results at all in the ages to come. As signs of the progress of 
 that religion which, through the seed of Abraham, was in the end 
 to bless, and is now blessing all nations, what conversions, 
 let me ask, were made from the days of Abraham to the Exodus ? 
 How many during the long night in Egypt ? Yet, each of these 
 intervals represents a period as long as what separates us from the 
 day when the first Englishman visited the shores of India, or 
 when the Church sprang into renewed life at the Reformation. 
 What, again, of results during the brief period, yet so full of 
 teaching, under Moses, accompanied by such mighty signs and 
 ■wonders, when the Church was in the wilderness ? Why, on 
 entering the land of promise, two men only represented the faith 
 of all who had left idolatrous Egypt ? And yet, when it looked 
 
APPENDIX. 413 
 
 as if all was lost, God spake these words, * As truly as I live, 
 all the earth shall be filled with the glory of the Lord.' Kecollect, 
 too, what long periods of confusion and darkness followed the 
 settlement of the tribes in Palestine. The experiment, if I may 
 60 call it, seemed to have utterly failed of educating a peculiar 
 people, and so preparing it for the ulterior work of converting the 
 world. That chosen race ended in captivity in the country from 
 whence Abraham, its father, began in faith, his journey fourteen 
 centuries before. Nevertheless, that race did its work at last ! 
 The first forms of its religious faith yet live, being cleansed from 
 all idolatry since the time of the Captivity, but since that time 
 only ; and Christianity, as its flower and fruit, lives, and, after 
 marvellous and strange vicissitudes, is grown into a mighty tree 
 whose leaves are for the healing of the nations, and which is 
 destined to be the one tree of life for the whole world. And so 
 this feature in history constantly repeats itself — a time of activity 
 and repose, of winter und summer, of sleep and waking, of death 
 and resurrection ; a time of long and varied preparations, with not 
 unfrequently very rapid fulfilments, like sudden outbui'sts of a long- 
 seething flood, or volcano ; while these fulfilments become again 
 beginnings of a new and as varied a course in history, ever accu- 
 mulating blessings for the whole family of man. 
 
 " Having thus spoken generally of missions in India and their 
 results, I must proceed more particularly to the consideration of 
 the various methods adopted by missionaries for Christianising the 
 Hindoos. 
 
 " But, before we can reply satisfactorily to the question regarding 
 means, we must first have a still cleai'er apprehension of the nature 
 of the end to be attained by them, involving some knowledge of 
 the Hindoo religion as a system of belief and of social life. If we 
 do so, we shall soon learn that we cannot, as is too often done, 
 class Hindoos with other heathens (whether in India or beyond 
 its shores), nor argue from what has been done by this or that 
 instrumentality in the Sandwich Islands, for example, or in Africa, 
 Burmah, or even Tinnevelly, that the same instrumentality will 
 necessarily be as efi'ectual in Calcutta or Benares. It is admitted, 
 of course, that among all races and in all countries the 2'ntth, as 
 revealed by Jesus Christ, is the one grand means of Christian- 
 ising them ; but the practical question before us is, What is the 
 best way of communicating this truth in certain given circum- 
 stances ? Now, to obtain the true answer to this question 
 necessitates other questions regarding the character, habits, and 
 beliefs of the people we have to deal with, and regarding those 
 
414 APPENDIX. 
 
 peculiar circumstances, within and without, in which they are 
 placed, which must materially affect their reception of Christian 
 doctrine and life. 
 
 " With the risk, therefore, of repeating; to some extent what, as 
 bearing on other parts of my subject, I have already alluded to, 
 let me direct your attention more particularly and more fully than 
 I have yet done to some of those characteristics of the Hindoos 
 which distinguish them from every other people in India or in the 
 world. Observe, in the first place, that they are a distinct race. 
 I have already said that various races make up the population of the 
 great continent of Hindostan. The Hindoo belongs to that Indo- 
 Germanic or Aryan stream of which we ourselves are a branch, and 
 which has flowed over the world. It entered India from the north- 
 west, and advanced, during long ages of the far past, towards its 
 southern plains. It found there other and older races, who either 
 fled to the mountains and jungles to maintain their freedom, or 
 were conquered and degraded into 8udras or Pariahs, without 
 caste or social position. These Aryans, like a lava flood, poured 
 themselves over the land, breaking through the older formations, 
 overlying them or surrounding them, but never utterly obliterating 
 or absorbing them. Now it is not with those aboriginal races — 
 who, though probably once possessing a higher civilisation, are 
 now comparative savages, and have religions peculiar to them- 
 selves, such as the Bheels, Khonds, Santals, Coles, &c. — that we 
 have at present to do ; nor yet with races of low caste or no 
 caste, like the Shanars of Tinnevelly, the Mairs of Ahmednugger, 
 or the lower population still of Chamba. But it is of this Hindoo 
 race, whose religion is Brahmanism, and which, above all others, 
 constitute llie people of India, numbering about a hundred and fifty 
 millions of its inhabitants — it is of them only I at present speak ; 
 for if they were Christianised, India practically would be so, but 
 not otherwise. That lofty, unbending portion of the community, 
 the Mohammedan, numbering twenty millions, is not within the 
 scope of my pi-esent argument. 
 
 " Secondly, we must not forget that this Hindoo people represent 
 a remarkable civilisation, which they have inherited from a time 
 when earth was young. They possess a language (the Sanscrit, 
 the uirliest cultivated) which scholars tell us is the fullest, the 
 most fltxible and musical in existence, to which Greek, although 
 its child, is immensely inferior; which is capable, as no other is, 
 of expressing the subtlest thoughts of the metaphysician, and the 
 most shadowy and transient gleams of the poet. In that language 
 the Hindoos produced a heroic and philosophic poetry, centuries 
 
APPENDIX. 415 
 
 before the Christian era, which even now holds a foremost place 
 in the literature of the world. It has been asserted — I know 
 not on what authority — that they were proficient in astronomy 
 long ere its very name was mentioned by the Greeks ; and that 
 in comparatively recent times they solved problems in algebra 
 which not until centuries afterwards dawned on the acutest minds of 
 modern Europe. When we add to this a structure of society — to 
 which I shall immediately allude — so compact as to have held 
 together for more than two thousand years, we must feel admira- 
 tion, if not for their physical, at least for their intellectual powers, 
 and acknowledge that we have here no rude or savage people, 
 but a highly cultivated and deeply interesting portion of the 
 human family. 
 
 *' Thirdly, we must consider the religion of the Hindoos, both as 
 a creed and as a social system, with its effects on their general 
 temperament and habits of life. 
 
 " The Hindoo religion, like Judaism and Chi'istianity, is one 
 ■which has survived the revolutions of long ages. The religions 
 of the Greeks and Romans, of the Egyptians, Phoenicians, and 
 Assyrians, with many others, are to us as fossils of a dead world. 
 Hindooism, older than these, still exists as a power aflecting the 
 destinies of teeming millions. We can gaze upon it as a living 
 specimen of one out of many of the monster forms which once 
 inhabited the globe. Unlike all those extinct religions, it has its 
 sacred books, and I doubt not that to this written word it greatly 
 owes its preservation. These books have been written at intervals 
 representing vast periods of history. The Vedas, at once the 
 most ancient and the most pure and lofty, date as far back, 
 possibly, as the time of Moses, and contain many true and sublime 
 ideas of a Divine Being without any trace of the peculiarities of 
 Brahmanism — nay, declaring positively that ' there is no distinction 
 of castes.' The great collection of the Puranas was compiled in 
 the middle ages of our era, and forms the real everyday ' Bible ' 
 of the everyday religion of Hindoos, the Vedas being now known 
 to and read by only a few learned pundits, and having from the 
 first been a forbidden book to all except the priesthood. Now, 
 these Puranas are one mass of follies and immoralities, of dream- 
 ing pantheism, of degrading and disgusting idolatry. 
 
 ** Mr. Wheeler, in his recently imblished volume, the first of his 
 * History of India,' thus writes of the great epics of Maha Bharata, 
 or the great war of Bharata, and the Ramayana, or ' Adventures 
 of Rama,' with their present influence on the Hindoos. It is his 
 opinion, I may state, that while the events recorded in these epics 
 
41 6 APPENDIX. 
 
 belong to the Vedic period, their composition belongs to the Brah- 
 maiiic ago, when caste was introduced, a new religion established, 
 and the Brahmans had formed themselves into a powerful eccle- 
 siastical hierarchy, and when, instead of the old Vedic gods and 
 forms of faith, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva took their place. These 
 epics are, practically, to the Hindoos, religious poems, and con- 
 sequently are the most powerful and popular props to Brahman- 
 ism. * Few Hindoos,' writes Mr. Wheeler, ' may perhaps be 
 acquainted with the whole of these epics, and none have ventured 
 to subject them to a critical analysis and investigation ; yet their 
 influence upon the masses of the people is beyond calculation, and 
 infinitely greater and more universal than the influence of the 
 Bible over modern Europe. The leading incidents and scenes are 
 familiar to the Hindoos from childhood. They are frequently 
 represented at village festivals, whilst the stories are chanted about 
 at almost every social gathering, and indeed form the leading topic 
 of conversation amongst Hindoos generally, and especially amongst 
 those who have passed the meridian of life. In a word, these poems 
 are to the Hindoos all that the Library, the Newspaper, and the 
 Bible are to the European ; whilst the books themselves are 
 regarded with a superstitious reverence, which far exceeds that 
 which has ever been accorded to any other revelation real or 
 supposed. To this day it is the common belief that to peruse or 
 merely to listen to the perusal of the Maha Bhiirata or Ramayana, 
 will insure prosperity in this world and eternal happiness here- 
 after.' Now, making every allowance for (what appears to me to 
 be) the exaggerated terms in which Mr. Wheeler describes the 
 comparative influence of the Bible and these ' Scriptures,' 
 there can be no doubt that, as far as India is concerned, he is 
 correct. 
 
 *' This religion, as embodied in its Sacred Books, affords the 
 widest scope for the indulgence of every phase of human thought, 
 sentiment, and passion ; furnishing as it does in the Vedic hymns 
 and poetry an atmosphere so rare, and presenting such shadowy 
 heights of speculation, as to tempt the most ambitious wing to put 
 forth its powers to gain their summits ; and furnishing in the 
 Puranas the vilest mire, where the filthiest and most obscene may 
 wallow. Among its disciples, the dreamy ascetic, labouring to 
 emancipate his spirit by pure meditation and the destruction of the 
 material flesh, and the profound scholar, rare though he be, 
 nourishing his intellectual life by the abstract themes and endless 
 speculative questions suggested by his creed, may meet with the 
 disgusting faqucer or yogi, with the ignorant millions who care for 
 
APPENDIX. 4-1-7 
 
 nothing bnt a round of dead superstitious observances, or with the 
 cunning or depraved crew who indulge in the vilest practices as the 
 natural results of their heathen principles, 
 
 " Lastly, it is in its social aspects, as already hinted, that 
 Brahmanism manifests its intense, comprehensive, and tyrannous 
 power. Its system of caste presents to us a feature in the organi- 
 zation ©f human beings unparalleled in history. It must not be 
 mistaken for a mere aristocratic arrangement, as accidental to or 
 lying outside of Brahmanism, but it is an essential element of its 
 very being. It is quite true, as I have said, and the fact is of 
 importance, that the Vedas know nothing of it; but then the 
 people know not the Yedas, and those who do conceal or pervert 
 their teaching. According to the existing and, as long as Brah- 
 manism lives, unalterable belief of the people, the streams of caste, 
 flowing side by side but never mingling, are traced up to the very 
 fountain of Deity ; or, to change the simile, each great caste 
 is believed to be a development of the very body of Brahma the 
 Creator, and is mystically united to him as parts of his very flesh 
 and bones. Hence no one can become a Hindoo in religion who 
 is not one by birth ; nor can any member belonging to this divine 
 body break his caste without thereby becoming dead, as a limb 
 amputated from living communion with the source of life, and 
 therefore to be thrown away as a curse, a reproach — a polluted, 
 horrible thing, to be hated and disowned. Marvellous, indeed, are 
 the power and endurance of such an organization as this, that can 
 dominate over all those political and social changes which, in other 
 respects, alter the relative position of its possessors as to wealth or 
 rank, whether in the army or in the civil service. 
 
 " But Brahmanism does more than make each man a member of 
 this compact mass. Having fixed him there, it holds him fast, and 
 governs him as a mere thing in which no personality, and con- 
 sequently no will, is recognised, save that measure which is 
 required to consent to the destruction of bis being, or its subordi- 
 nation, at least, to a system of mechanical rules that fashion his 
 whole inward and outward life. As far almost as it is possible to 
 conceive, that life is in everything and every day the obedient slave 
 of ' religion ; ' not, of course, in the sense which we attach to the 
 expression — that of all things being done, endured, or enjoyed in a 
 right spirit, or according to the rule of eternal righteousness 
 towards God and man — but according to fixed authoritative rules, 
 professing to embrace the whole life, obedience to which is as 
 mechanical as can be yielded by a human being. For to the 
 religious Hindoo all that is to be believed and done on earth is 
 
 VOL. II, E E 
 
41 8 APPENDIX. 
 
 revealed, and as such is oLiigatory. All the arts and sciences ; 
 the methods of every trade ; the manifold duties incumbent on the 
 architect, the mason, the carpenter, or the musician, and on the 
 rueniber of the family or community — what ouyht to be done upon 
 ordinary days and on holy days ; in youth, in manhood, and in old 
 age; in health and sickness, and in the hour of death; and what 
 ought to be done for those who are dead. Rules are prescribed to 
 him as a sinner or a saint, in joy or in sorrow ; directing him how 
 to act towards superiors, inferiors, and equals ; towards priests and 
 princes ; towards all men on earth, and towards all the gods on 
 earth and in the heavens. No polype, in the vast gelatinous mass 
 which contributes to the building up of a great island from the 
 deep, can be more a part of that mysterious whole than an orthodox 
 Hindoo is of this marvellous religious brotherhood. His indivi- 
 duality is lost. His conscience, will, and affections are in the 
 strong grasp of habits and customs sanctioned by Divine authority, 
 consecrated by the faith of his race, and made venerable by a 
 hoary antiquity. And, what might seem very strange to us if we 
 could not point to parallel phases of human nature within even the 
 Church of Christ, this slavery is not disliked or felt to be a heavy 
 burden — a * bondage to the elements of the world ' — but, on the 
 contrary, is clung to with a desperate tenacity. The elements 
 which give this undying vigour to caste may possibly be found not 
 chiefly in sloth and inditference, or in the supposed deliverance 
 which it affords from the irksome sense of personal responsibility, 
 but in its recognition of two great principles in social life, which, 
 though in this case perverted, are adjusted by the Christian creed 
 and a true Christian Church ; the first, that our place in the world 
 is assigned to us by Divine sovereignty ; and the second, that the 
 co-oporution and sympathy of a brotherhood are essential to our 
 usefulness and happiness in the world. AYhatever be the secret of 
 its strength, it is profoundly interesting to gaze on this gigantic 
 system existing like the Great Pyramid — each stone in its place, 
 firmly cemented into the vast whole, towering over the arid plain, 
 defying hitherto the attacks of time, which destroys all that is 
 perishable — an object of wonder because of its magnitude and 
 power of endurance, yet hollow-hearted withal, and preserving 
 only the dust of ages, 
 
 "And yet oven this tremendous system of caste is not wholly 
 antagonistic to the efforts of the Christian Church. Its very 
 strength may at last prove its weakness. If on the side of wrong 
 it ' moveth all together if it move at all,' it may do so also on the 
 aide of right. Let the wall be so far sapped that it must fall, it 
 
APPENDIX. 4.19 
 
 will do so, not by crumbling down in minute fragments, or even in 
 separate masses, but as a whole. If the great army mutinies 
 against Brahmanism, it will desert, not in units, but en masse. 
 
 " It is with this system that we have in the mean time to deal ; 
 and it may well nerve a Christian's courage, and make him examine 
 bis weapons, test his armour, and carefully calculate his resources 
 of power and patience, of faith and love, ere he enters, with a zeal 
 which can be vindicated and a hope that will not be put to shame, 
 on the grand enterprise of substituting pure Christianity in its 
 place. I hesitate not to express the opinion that no such battle 
 has ever before been given to the Church of God to fight since 
 history began, and that no victory, if gained, will be followed by 
 greater consequences. It seems to me as if the spiritual conquest 
 of India was a work reserved for these latter days to accomplish, 
 because requii-ing all the previous dear-bought experiences of the 
 Church, and all the preliminary education of the world, and that, 
 when accomplished — as by the help of the living Christ it shall ! — 
 it will be a very Armageddon ; the last great battle against every 
 form of unbelief, the last fortress of the enemy stormed, the last 
 victory gained as necessary to secure the unimpeded progress and 
 the final triumph of the world's regeneration ! 
 
 " In these statements regarding Brahmanism I have said nothing 
 of its effects upon the morals of the people, although this is a most 
 important aspect of it, not only as producing habits congenial to 
 human depravity, but as raising the most formidable obstacles 
 against the reception of Christianity even as a pure and uncom- 
 promising system of morals. Not that we would charge the actual 
 vices of a people to their religion, unless, as in the case before us, 
 these could be proved to be the necessary and legitimate con- 
 sequences of faith in its teaching, and of obedience to its enjoined 
 observances and practices. As far, indeed, as the observation of 
 the ordinary traveller goes, I am bound to say, as the result of our 
 own very limited experience, that nothing meets the eye or ear in 
 any way offensive to good manners throughout India, not even in 
 its temples, unless it be in symbols for worship to which I cannot 
 allude, and the influence of which on the worshippers it is difficult 
 for any stranger to determine, not knowing even how far their 
 significance is understood by the multitude. I must therefore refer 
 to others better acquainted with India to say what its moral 
 condition is as flowing positively from its religion. But I have no 
 doubt whatever myself, from all I have heard, that, except where 
 ail'ccted by European influence, it is, among both Hindoos and 
 Mohammedans, as a rule, far below what is generally supposed. 
 
 E E 2 
 
420 APPENDIX. 
 
 Ill spite of that amount of morality, and the play of those affections 
 among Iriends and the members of the family, without which 
 society could not hang together ; and while I refuse to believe that 
 there are not, among such a mass of human beings, some true 
 light and life received from Him who is the Father of light, in ways 
 we wot not of and may never discover ; yet I have no doubt that 
 the description of heathendom as existing in the latter period 
 of Roman life, and as described by St. Paul in the beginning of his 
 Epistle to the Romans, is true to a fearful extent of India. Facts, 
 besides, have come out in trials showing how ' religion,' so called, 
 may become the source of the most hideous abominations, for 
 which it is righteously chargeable. Immortal man is seldom so 
 degraded as not to seek some apparently good reason, and in the 
 holy name of " religion " too, for doing the worst things. Thus the 
 Thug strangles his victim as he prays to the goddess of murder ; 
 and the member of a hereditary band of robbers consecrates his 
 services to the goddess of rapine. 
 
 " But enough has been said to give some idea of Brahmanism, and 
 we are thus better prepared to entertain the question as to the 
 means by which it can be destroyed, and Christianity, with its 
 truth, holiness, brotherhood, and peace, take its place. 
 
 " As to the question of means, I assume that, as a Church of 
 Christ, we are at liberty to adopt any means whatever, in consist- 
 ency with the spirit of the Gospel and the holy ends we have in 
 view, which, according to our knowledge as derived from the 
 Word of God, interpreted by sound judgment and experience, we 
 believe best calculated to accomplish those ends. The example of 
 the Apostles as recorded in the Book of Acts, that missionary 
 history of the early Church, and in the letters of the great mis- 
 sionary St. Paul, however precious to us and invaluable as a 
 repository of facts and principles, can never bind us to adopt the 
 very same methods in our day in India, if it were even possible for 
 us to do so, as were adopted by the Apostles in the Asia Minor or 
 Europe of their day, unless it can be shown that the fields in both 
 cases are so far similar as to admit of a similar mode of cultivation 
 in order to secure that crop which the Christian missionaries of 
 every age desire and labour to obtain. St. Paul had nothing like 
 the heathenism of India, in its social aspects or vast extent, to deal 
 with. But we shall be fellow-labourers with him if we understand 
 his ' ways,' ' manner of life,' and possess his spirit. Let us only, 
 as far as possible, endeavour to share what, without irreverence 
 for his inspired authority, I may venture to call his grand compre- 
 hensive common-sense — his clear eye in discerning the real plan of 
 
APPENDIX. 421 
 
 battle, and all that was essential to success — his firm and unfal- 
 tering march to the centre of the enemy's position, in the best way 
 practicable in the given place and time — his determination to 
 become all things to all men, limited only, yet expanded also, by 
 the holy and unselfish aim of ' gaining some,' not to himself, but 
 to Christ ; and, in doing so, we shall not miss the best methods of 
 Christianising India. Right men will make the right methods. 
 
 "In reviewing the various mission agencies at work in India, we 
 may at once lay aside the consideration of minor methods — such, 
 for example, as that of orphanages, male and female : for, whatever 
 blessings may be bestowed by them as charitable institutions, 
 or whatever advantages — and there are many such — may be 
 derived from them as furnishing Christian teachers for male, and, 
 above all, for female schools ; and colporteurs or catechists, to aid 
 missionaries ; or as providing wives for Christian converts, who 
 could neither seek nor obtain any alliances from among the 
 * castes ;'— nevertheless, these institutions, however multiplied 
 and however successful, cannot, in my opinion, tell on the ultimate 
 conversion of the bulk of the Hindoos proper, more than so many 
 orphans taken from Europe would do if trained and taught in the 
 same way. I am not to be understood as objecting to orphanages, 
 more especially when they are, as with us, generously supported 
 by the contributions of the young at home, and not paid for out 
 of the general funds of the Mission. Yet I would not have you 
 attach undue importance to the baptism of orphans as telling 
 upon Hindooism, or to weigh their number — as, alas ! I have 
 heard done in Scot' an i — against those connected with our great 
 educational institutit ns, to the disparagement of the latter as 
 compared with the former. It seems to me that it would be just 
 as wise as if, in seeking to convert the Jews, we imagined that the 
 baptism of any number of orphan Jews within a charitable house 
 of refuge would tell as much on Judaism as the education of a 
 thousand intelligent young Rabbis in a Christian college, if such a 
 blessing were possible, in the intensely bigoted towns of Saphet or 
 Tiberias. 
 
 " Nor need I discuss here what has been or what maybe accom- 
 plished by the dissemination of the Bible and an efi'ective Christian 
 literature, and other similar details of mission work, the excellence 
 of which is obvious and admitted, but I will confine myself to what 
 have been called the preaching and the teaching systems, protest- 
 ing, however, against this erroneous classification, and accepting it 
 only as the best at hand. 
 
 " When we speak oi preaching the Gospel to the natives of India, 
 
42 2 APPENDIX. 
 
 I exclude those if^ho have received an English education, for as 
 regards proaching to them there can be no doubt or question. Not 
 by i>reachiu(j do I mean the giving of addresses in churches to 
 native congregations, but addressing all who will hear, whether in 
 the streets, bazaars, or anywhere else. And unquestionably there 
 are difliculties in the way of thus preaching wLich are not, I think, 
 sufficiently weighed by friends of missions at home. We must, for 
 example, dispel the idea that an evangelist, when addressing per- 
 sons in the streets of a city in heathen India, is engaging in a 
 work — except in its mere outward aspects — like that of an ' evan- 
 gelist' preaching in the streets or fields at home to those ignorant 
 of the Gospel — although, in passing, I may express my conviction 
 that even at home such efforts are more unavailing than is sup- 
 posed, where there has been no previous instruction of some kind. 
 Outdoor preaching in India, as it often is at home, is almost uni- 
 versally addressed to passing and ever-changing crowds, not one of 
 whom possibly ever heard such an address before, or will hear even 
 this one calmly to the end, or ever hear another. In no case, more- 
 over, will the educated and influential classes listen to such 
 preaching. Consider, also, the almost utter impossibility of giving, 
 in the most favourable circumstances, by those means, anything 
 like a true idea of the simplest facts of the Christian religion ; 
 while to treat of its evidences is, of course, out of the question. 
 Should the evangelist adopt another method by directly appealing 
 to the moral instincts of his hearers, to the wants of their immortal 
 nature, to their conscience, their sense of responsibility, or to their 
 eternal hopes and fears, seeking thus to rouse the will to action, 
 where, we ask, are all those subjective conditions, necessary for 
 the reception of the truth, to be found in hearers saturated through 
 their whole being since childhood with all that must weaken, per- 
 vert, deaden, and almost annihilate what we assume must exist in 
 them BO as to respond at once to truth so revealed ? 
 
 *' These difficulties are immensely increased when we learn, more- 
 over, that there is not a single term which can be used in preaching 
 the Gospel, by the evangelist who is most master of the language 
 and can select the choicest words and nicest expressions, but has 
 fixed and definite though false ideas attached to it in the familiar 
 theological vocabulary of his audience : nor can it be transposed 
 by his hearer, without long and patient ellbrts, into the totally 
 opposite and Christian ideas attached to the same term. We speak 
 of one God ; so will he : but what ideas have we in common of 
 His character and attributes, or even of His personality and unity? 
 We use the words sm, salvntioit, reyeneratiuii, holimss, aloiteiiteiU, 
 
APPENDIX. 423 
 
 ivcnrua'ion, and so will he ; but each term represents to him an 
 old and familiar falsehood which he understands, believes, and 
 clings to, and which nils up his whole eye, blinding it to the per- 
 ception of Gospel truths altogether different although expressed by 
 the same terms. The uneducated thus not unfrequently confuse 
 even the name of our Saviour, Yisliu Khrishta, with Ishi Khista, a 
 companion of their god Khristna ! If you fairly consider such 
 difficulties as these, even you will also cease to wonder at the 
 almost barren results from preaching alone to the genuine Hindoo 
 as distinct from low caste or no caste — and that the most earnest 
 men have failed to make any decided impression on the mass, any 
 more than the rain or light of heaven do on the solid works of a 
 fortress. One of the noblest and most devoted of men, Mr. Bowen, 
 of Bombay, whom I heard thus preach, and who has done so for a 
 quarter of a century, informed me, in his own humble, truthful 
 way — and his case is not singular, except for its patience and 
 earnestness — that, as far as he knew, he had never made one 
 single convert. 
 
 " But while, in trying to estimate the most likely means of com- 
 municating a knowledge of Christianity to the Hindoos, I would 
 have you fairly consider the difficulties in the way of preaching 
 only, I would not have you suppose that I condemn it as useless, 
 even although it has made few converts among thinking Hindoos 
 apart from the co-operative power of education. I recognise it 
 rather as among those influences which in very many ways pre- 
 pare for the brighter day of harvest, by prompting inquiry, 
 removing prejudices, accustoming people to the very terms of the 
 Gospel, causing new ideas of truth to enter their minds in some 
 form, however crude and defective, and by giving impressions of 
 the moral worth and intellectual power of earnest and able mis- 
 sionaries who have come from afar, and who seek with so much 
 unselfishness, patience, and love to do good to their fellow-men. 
 By all these means we must also ever strive and hope to gain 
 immediate results, as some preachers have done, in the conversion 
 of sinners towards God. Let us rejoice in believing that in pro- 
 portion as education of every kind advances, it prepares a wider 
 field for the preachei*, if the seed he sows as ' the Word ' is to be 
 ' understood ' so as to be received ' into the heart.' 
 
 "It must, I think, be admitted that, up to the period at which 
 Christian education was introduced as an essential element of mis- 
 sionary labour among the Hindoos, every attempt to make any 
 breach in the old fortress had failed. A remarkable illustration of 
 this fact is frankly given by the Abbe Dubois. He was an able. 
 
42 1 APPENDIX. 
 
 accomplished, earnest, and honest Eoman Catholic missionary, 
 who had laboured for a quarter of a century, living among the 
 people, and endeavouring to convert them. He published his 
 vohime in 1822, and in it gives the results of his experience, 
 summed up in a single sentence — * It is my decided opinion that, 
 under existing circumstances, there is no human possibility of con- 
 verting the Hindoos to any sect of Christianity.' He illustrates 
 and conlirms this conclusion by the peculiarities of the Hindoo 
 religion, and by the history of all missionary efforts down to his 
 own day, including those of Xavier and the Jesuits. He also gives 
 it as his opinion that, ' as long as we are unable to make an 
 impression on the polished part of the nation or the heads of public 
 opinion — on the body of the Brahmins, in short — there remain but 
 very faint hopes of propagating Christianity among the Hindoos ; 
 and as long as the only result of our labours shall be, as is at 
 present the case, to bring into our respective communions here 
 and there a few desperate vagrants, outcasts, pariahs, house- 
 keepers, beggars, and other persons of the lowest description, such 
 results cannot faU to be detrimental to the interests of Christianity 
 among a people who in all circumstances are ruled by the force of 
 custom and example, and are in no case allowed to judge for 
 themselves.' It is no answer to this picture that it describes the 
 failure of Romanism only ; for it holds equally true of every other 
 effort made in the same direction and amon'^ the same people. 
 The Abbe had no hope whatever of the difficulty ever being mas- 
 tered ; but thought the people, for their lies and abominations, 
 were ' lying under an everlasting anathema.' 
 
 *' It was shortly after this time that Christian education, although 
 it had to some extent been adopted previously in Western India 
 by the Americans, was systematically and vigorously begun in 
 Bengal by the Church of Scotland as the best means of making an 
 impression upon all castes, the highest as well as the lowest. 
 This educational system, associated as it has become with the 
 name of Scotland, is one of which our Church and country have 
 reason to be proud, and will over be connected with the names of 
 Dr. Inglis as having planned it, and Dr. Duff as having first carried 
 it out. It is surely a presumption in its favour that eveiy mission 
 from Great Britain which has to do with the same class of people, 
 has now adopted, without one exception, the same method as an 
 essential part of its operations. 
 
 " Let me now endeavour to explain to the members of the Church 
 what we mean by the education system, as it is called, with 
 some of the results at which it aims. 
 
APPENDIX. 425 
 
 " First of all, a secular education, so termed, though in this case 
 inaccurately, is given in our missionary institutions equal to that 
 given by any seminary in India. The importance and value of 
 this fact arises from another — that education, especially in the 
 knowledge of the English language and its literature, is the high- 
 road to what is all in all in the estimation of a Hindoo — Prefer- 
 ment. The opening up of lucrative situations, and of important 
 civil offices in the gift of Government, and the passing a Univer- 
 sity examination by every applicant ibr them, are thus linked to- 
 gether. The privilege, moreover, of being presented as a candi- 
 date for these examinations is confined to those schools or insti- 
 tutions, missionary or others, which are ' affiliated ' to the 
 University or Board of Examiners in each Presidency town, which 
 can be done only when they have proved their fitness to give the 
 required education, and are willing to submit to Government 
 inspection as far as their mere secular teaching is concerned. It 
 is for this kind of education, and for these ends alone, that the 
 Hindoo youth enters a mission school. I need hardly say that 
 he has no desire to obtain by so doing any knowledge of Chris- 
 tianity ; his willingness to encounter which, arising not from 
 courage — of which he has little or none — but from self-confidence 
 in his ability to despise, if not its arguments, at least its influence. 
 When a mission school is preferred to a Government one, it is 
 probably owing to the fact that lower fees are charged in the 
 former ; and, as I am also disposed to think, from the life and power 
 and superior teaching necessarily imparted by educated mis- 
 sionaries when they throw their whole soul into their work, in- 
 spired by the high and unselfish aims which they have in view. 
 Be this as it may, right missionaries can, by means of the school, 
 secure a large and steady assemblage, day by day, of from 500 to 
 1,000 pupils, representing the very life of Hindoo society, eager to 
 obtain education. 
 
 " While to impart this education is itself a boon, and an indirect 
 means of doing much real good, yet by itself it is obviously not 
 that kind of good which it is the distinct function of the Christian 
 missionary to confer. His work is to teach men a saving know- 
 ledge of Jesus Christ, and so to reconcile them to their God. 
 Hence instruction in the Bible as the record of God's will revealed 
 to man specially through Jesus Christ, is an essential part of his 
 work, and distinguishes his school from every other. The accept- 
 ance on the part of the pupil of this direct Christian instruction, 
 accom])anied by all that can be done by the missionary to make 
 it find an entrance into the pupil's heart, and to keep possession 
 
426 APPENDIX. 
 
 of it, is a dne qua non of his being received into the school, and 
 is taken by him with his eyes open. 
 
 " Mere teacliiwj, howevei', whether secular or Christian, does not 
 adequately express what is included in the idea of education as 
 aimed at by the intelligent and efficient missionary. His object is, 
 by these and all other means in his power — by argument and 
 appeal — by that whole pei'sonal influence emanating from head 
 and heart, from lip and eye — to educate the Hindoo mind out of 
 all that is weak, perverted, false, and vain, into truth and reality 
 as embodied in Christian faith and life. To do this involves, as I 
 have tried to explain, a work requiring time and patience, the 
 nicest handling, and the greatest force. To quicken a conscience 
 almost dead ; to waken any sense of personal responsibility almost 
 ^iniiihilated ; to give any strength to a will weak and powerless 
 for all manly ell'ort and action ; to open the long-closed and unused 
 spiritual eye, and train it to discern the unseen, ' Him who is 
 invisible ; ' to inspire with a love of truth, or with a perception, 
 however faint, of the unworthiness and vileness of falsehood, a 
 soul which has never felt the sense of shame in lying, and seems 
 almost to have lost the power of knowing what it means ; — this is 
 the education which the missionary gives as preparatory to and 
 accompanying the reception of Christianity. He has to penetrate 
 through the drifting sands of centuries in order to reach what he 
 believes lies deeper down, that humanily which, however weak, is 
 capable of being elevated as sure as the Son of God has become 
 the Son of Man ! In seeking to do this there is no part of his 
 work, the most common or the most secular, which cannot be 
 turned by the skilful workman to account. ' Every wise-hearted 
 man in whom the Lord puts wisdom and understanding ' will thus 
 * know how to work all manner of work for the service of the 
 sanctuary.' While everything is thus made subservient to the 
 highest end, most unquestionably the Gospel itself, by the very 
 ideas which it gives, through doctrine and precept, history and 
 biography — above all, through the life, death, and resurrection of 
 Jesus Christ — regarding the character of God and man, is, by its 
 own divine light, the most powerful means of opening and edu- 
 cating thfe eye which is itself to see and appreciate this light. 
 The Gospel, therefore, must ever accompany, as master and guide, 
 every other kind of instrumentality employed in an educational 
 Christian mission. 
 
 "Another object originally contemplated by these institutions was 
 to raise vp a native vniiistry from among the converts, who should 
 be able to carry on the work of evangelisation among their 
 
APPENDIX. \ii 
 
 brethren as no foreigners or temporary residents in the country 
 could possibly do, and thus ultimately to obtain from among the 
 people themselves that supply of missionaries which should per- 
 manently meet the wants of the country. The advantages of such 
 a class are so obvious that I need do little more than allude to 
 the subject. When India is Christianised it must be by her own 
 people. We are strangers and foi-eignei's, and, as far as we can 
 discover, must ever be so, Nature decrees, ' Hitherto sLalt thou 
 come, but no further.' Immigration and permanent settlement 
 are for us impossible. Our work towards India must therefore be 
 from without, and in order to quicken and develop from within 
 her own individuality in a Christian form. At present we are 
 singularly and almost profoundly ignorant of the inner life of the 
 people of India, almost as much as if we had visited a different 
 race in a different planet. We come into outward contact with 
 them, but oceans of thought, feeling, association, habits, and 
 beliefs separate us mentally, socially, and spiritually, until we can 
 meet in the fellowship of a common Christianity as well as of a com- 
 mon citizenship. It is thus evident that we must ultimately rely 
 upon native evangelists and pastors to educate the masess of the 
 natives in the Christian religion, and to form them into a Christian 
 Church. Every method, therefore, which can be devised for the 
 raising up and thoroughly educating such men, suited to meet tbe 
 various ranks and castes of Hindoo and Mohammedan society, the 
 most learned as well as the most ignorant, should engage the most 
 earnest attention of the Christian Church. At present we are but 
 feeling our way towards this all-important end. 
 
 " You will now very naturally inquire how far our school system 
 has succeeded, after having had a fair trial, in adding converts 
 and native evangelists to the Christian Church. The results of 
 Dr. Duff's missionary schools may be taken as the most favourable 
 example. He had the honour not only of beginning the system 
 in Calcutta, but of carrying it on for the long period of thirty-five 
 years ; for although he left the Church of Scotland and joined 
 th-e Free Church in 1843, yet he continued his mission in other 
 buildings with unabated vigour and unwearied zeal. He ,was 
 assisted, moreover, by a staff of missionaries who, in learning and 
 ability, were worthy of their distinguished leader ; so that the 
 system, it must be confessed, has had the fairest possible trial, 
 without interruption or weakness. Its agency, too, has always 
 been strong and effective. The number of its principal and 
 branch stations in Bengal is 12, with 51 Christian agents, in- 
 cluding 4 ordained European missionaries ; an average attend- 
 
+2 8 APPENDIX. 
 
 ance of upwards of 3,000 scholars, male and female. Two 
 ordnined native evangelists are employed, and 5 agents are 
 engaged in vernacular preaching in the Mofussil, or in ' the 
 countr}'.' Now, the number of converts since the beginning of 
 the mission until the present year has been 206. Not one, 
 as lar as I can discover, is reported for last year. As to 
 ordained missionaries, three only have been contributed by the 
 institution since its commencement. The same general results 
 have been obtained from the institution at Madras and Bombay, 
 hitherto conducted by as able, accomplished, and devoted mis- 
 sionaries as have laboured in India. The names of the late John 
 Anderson, of Madras, and of the venerable and learned Dr. "Wilson, 
 of Bombay, whom God has spared to labour, will ever be asso- 
 ciated with the history of missions in India, 
 
 " Looking only to such results as can be expressed by mere 
 statistics, those I have given may possibly be recognised as 
 proofs of failure by one ignorant of India, or comparing them 
 with those gathered from other tields of missionary labour. I 
 might, however, easily show the value of those results, and defend 
 them from the charge of insignificance, by showing the quality and 
 influence of the converts who form the native churches connected 
 with that mission and with other mission schools in Intlia, and 
 thus prove the greatness of the victory by the difficulty of the 
 battle, and the strength and importance of the position which it has 
 thus secured with reference to the final conquest of the land ; or 
 I might even compare the number of those converts with the 
 number of missionaries employed, as proving a success equal to 
 that of any other mission in similar circumstances. But putting 
 aside these and many other elements of a success which, in my 
 opinion, is unquestionable and remarkable, even as tested by 
 statistics, I could most conscientiously defend it on a lower but 
 sufficiently solid and hopeful ground. Were its work confined to 
 the walls of the institution, and had it as yet never made a single 
 convert, would it, I ask, in this case, however painful and dis- 
 appointing it might be to the ardent and hopeful missionary or to 
 the Churcli, be unworthy of our continued confidence and un- 
 faltering support ? I can anticipate but one reply by those who 
 have at all comprehended the actual condition of Hindoo society, 
 even as I have tried to describe it, and the nature and difficulty of 
 the work to be done before its heathenism can be given up, and a 
 genuine living Christianity substituted in its place. For realise if 
 you can what the effect must be, as preparing the way for Christ- 
 ianity, of thousands of youth nearly every year sent forth into 
 society to occupy positions of trust and influence from all the 
 
APPENDIX. 429 
 
 mission schools in India ; not a few of their pnpils truly con- 
 verted to God, and all well instructed in Christianity, in its evi- 
 dences, facts, and moral teaching ; the minds of all considerably 
 enlightened, their knowledge and means of knowledge vastly 
 increased, and their whole moral tone and feelings changed and 
 elevated ! I am compelled to reiterate the idea that the work thus 
 done by the mission school is not the taking down a brick here or 
 there from the beleaguered wall, but that of sapping it from below, 
 until, like the walls of Jericho, and by the same Almighty power, 
 though differently applied, it falls in one great ruin to the ground ; 
 while at the same time it is preparing the ground, digging tho 
 foundations, and gathering materials for building up a new living 
 temple to the Lord. 
 
 " In regard to the raising up of a native ministry, that too may 
 be pronounced a failure, if those who have been ordained are 
 counted merely and not weighed. But that the different mission 
 schools in India have raised from among their converts a most 
 intelligent, educated, and respected body of native clergy, cannot 
 be denied. I remember a high caste native gentleman of wealth 
 and education speaking of one of those clergy, and saying to me, 
 ' that is a man whose acquaintance you should, if possible, make. 
 He was of my caste, and became a Christian ; but he is a learned 
 and thoroughly sincere man, and people here honour him.' This 
 said much for both Hindoo and Christian. Nor do I think such 
 cases so rare as people at home or abroad are apt to imagine. 
 It is, no doubt, greatly to be desired, that we had many more such 
 men — hundreds, or even thousands, instead of a few dozen or so; 
 but the difficulties are at present great, not only in finding the 
 right kind of men, but, when found, in supporting them where as 
 yet no congregations exist, and in inducing them to be the sub- 
 ordinates of foreign missionaries with comparatively small salaries, 
 when so many better paid and more independent positions can be 
 found in other departments of labour. For while there are many 
 cases of unselfish and disinterested labour among native pastors, 
 yet the demands of others for * pay and power ' make the question 
 of native pastors in towns embarrassing at times to the home 
 Churches. But, in spite of those difficulties, good men have been 
 and are being ordained, and we can at present see no more likely 
 source of obtaining them, for the cities at least, than by our mis 
 sionary educational institutions. Before closing this part of my 
 subject and proceeding to offer a few practical suggestions as to 
 present duties with reference to our Missions, permit me to repeat a 
 conviction which I stated at our great missionary meeting at Cal- 
 cutta as to our keeping steadily before the mind of the Churches 
 
430 APPENDIX. 
 
 at hoTTiG and alirnnrl the vast importance of a nntive Chnroh bein» 
 organized in India. By a native Cljurch I do not certainly mean 
 — what, in present circumstances, we thankfully accept — native 
 Churches in ecclesiastical connection with the different European 
 and American missions. It surely cannot be desired by any 
 intelligent Christian. I might use stronger language, and assert 
 that it ought not to be tolerated by any reasonable man, unless 
 proved to be unavoidable, that our several Churches should re- 
 produce, in order to perpetuate in the new world of a Christian- 
 ized India, those forms and symbols which in the old world have 
 become marks, not of our union as Christians, but of our disunion 
 as sects. We may not, indeed, be responsible for these divisions 
 in the Church which have come down to us from the past. We 
 did not make them, nor can we now, perhaps, unmake. them. We 
 find ourselves born into some one of them, and so we accept of it, 
 and make the most of it as the best we can get in the whole 
 circumstances in which we are placed. But must we establish 
 these ditlerent organizations in India ? Is each part to be made 
 to represent the whole ? Is the grand army to remain broken up 
 into separate divisions, each to recruit to its own standard, and to 
 invite the Hindoos to wear our respective uniforms, adopt our 
 respective Shibboleths, learn and repeat our respective war cries, 
 and even make caste marks of our wounds and scars, which to us 
 are but the sad mementoes of old battles ? Or, to drop all meta- 
 phors, shall Christian converts in India be necessarily grouped 
 and stereotyped into Episcopal Churches, Presbyterian Churches, 
 Lutheran Churches, Methodist Churches, Baptist Churches, or 
 Independent Churches, and adopt as their respective creeds the 
 Confession of Faith, the Thirty-nine Articles, or some other 
 formula approved of by our forefathers, and the separating sign 
 of some British or American sect ? Whether any Church seriously 
 entertains this design I know not, though I suspect it of some, 
 and I feel assured that it will be realised in part, as conversions 
 increase by means of foreign missions, and be at last perpetuated, 
 unless it is now carefully guarded against by every opportunity 
 being watched and taken advantage of to propagate a dilfurout 
 idea, and to rear up an independent and all-inclusive native Indian 
 Cliurch. By such a Church I mean one which shall be organised 
 and governed by the natives themselves, as far as possible, inde- 
 l>endent]y of us. AVe could of course claim, as Christians and 
 fe'low subjects, to be recognised as brethren, and to be received 
 among its members, or, if it should so please both parties, serve 
 among its ministers, and rejoice always to be its best friends and 
 generous supporters. In all this we would only have them to 
 
APPENDIX. 431 
 
 do -to us as we should feel bound to do to them. Such a Church 
 might, as taught by experience, mould its outward form of govern- 
 ment and worship according to its inner wants and outward circum- 
 stances, guided by history and by the teaching and spirit of Christ- 
 ianity. Its creed — for no Christian soL'iety can exist without some 
 known and professed beliefs — would include those truths which 
 had been confessed by the Catholic Church of Christ since the 
 first; and, as necessary to its very existence as a Church it would 
 recognise the supreme authority of Jesus Christ and His apostles. 
 It would also have, like the whole Church, its Lord's-day for public 
 worship, and the Sacraments of Baptism, and the Lord's Supper. 
 Thus might a new temple be reared on the plains of India unhke 
 perhaps any to be seen in our western lands, yet with all our 
 goodly stones built up in its fabric, and with all our spiritual 
 worship within its walls of the one living and true God, Father, 
 Son and Holy Spirit. A Church like this would, from its very 
 nationality, attract many a man who does not wish to be ranked 
 among the adherents of Mission Churches. It would dispose, 
 also, of many difficulties inseparable from our position, Avhether 
 regarding baptism or the selection and support of a native ministry. 
 And, finally, it would give ample scope, for many a year to come, 
 for all the aid and efforts which our home Churches and Missionaries 
 could afford by schools and colleges, personal labour, and also by 
 money contributions, to establish, strengthen, and extend it. 
 
 " Moreover, it seems to me that India affords varied and remark- 
 able elements for contributing many varied gifts and talents to 
 such a Church as this. The simple peasant and scholarly pundit, 
 the speculative mystic or self-torturing devotee, the peaceful South- 
 man and the manly North-man ; the weak Hindoo who clings to 
 others of his caste for strength, and the strong aborigines who love 
 their individuality and independence ; — one and all possess a 
 power which could find its place of rest and blessing in the faith 
 of Christ and in fellowship with one another through Him. The 
 incarnate but unseen Christ, the Divine yet human brother, would 
 dethrone every idol ; God's word be substituted for the Puranas ; 
 Christian brotherhood for caste; and the peace of God, instead of 
 these and every weary rite and empty ceremony, would satisfy the 
 heart. Such is my ideal, which I hope and believe will one day 
 become real in India. The day, indeed, seems to be far off when 
 ' the Church of India,' worthy of the country, shall occupy its 
 place within what may then be the Christendom of the world. A 
 period of chaos may intervene ere it is created ; and after that, 
 how many days full of change and of strange revolutions, with 
 their 'evenings' and 'mornings,' may succeed, ere it enjoys a 
 
432 APPENDIX. 
 
 Sabhath rest of holiness and peace ! But yet that Church must he, 
 if India is ever to become one, or a nation in any true sense of the 
 word. For union, strength, and real progress can never hence- 
 forth ill this world's history either result from or coalesce with 
 Mohammedanism or Hindooism, far less with the cold and heartless 
 abstractions of an atheistic philosophy. Hence English goverr- 
 ment, by physical force and moral power, must, with a firm and 
 unswerving grasp, hold the broken fragments of the Indian races 
 together, until they are united from within by Christianity into a 
 living organism, which can then, and then only, dispense with the 
 force without. The wild olive must be grafted into the ' root and 
 fatness' of the good olive-tree of the Church of Christ; and while 
 the living union is being formed, and until the living sap begins to 
 flow from the root to every branch, English power must firmly bind 
 and hold the parts together. Our hopes of an Indian nation are 
 bound up with our hopes of an Indian Church ; and it is a high 
 privilege for us to be able to help on this consummation. The West 
 thus gives back to the East the riches which it has from the East re- 
 ceived, to be returned again, I doubt not, with interest to ourselves. 
 " But when shall there be a resurrection in this great valley of 
 death? When shall these dry bones live ? Lord, Thou knowest, 
 with whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years 
 as one day ! Let us have faith and patience. There may at 
 first be but a noise and a shaking, and then the bones of the poor 
 broken-up and disjointed skeletons of humanity may come 
 together, and after a while sinews and flesh may cover them, and 
 yet no breath be in them ! But these preparatory processes are 
 not in vain. A resurrection-day of life and power will dawn iu 
 the fulness of time, and the Lord of Life will raise up prophets, 
 it may be from among the people of India, who will meekly and 
 obediently prophesy as the Lord commands them ; and then the 
 glorious result will be witnessed from heaven and earth which we 
 have all prayed and laboured and longed for ; the Spirit of Life 
 will come, and these dead bodies will live and stand on their feet 
 an exceeding great army ! * I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, 
 which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and 
 people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, 
 clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands ; and cried 
 with a loud voice, saying. Salvation to our God which sitteth upon 
 the throne, and unto the Lamb.' 'Amen: Blessing, and glory, 
 and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and 
 might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen.' 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 DEMCO 38-297