Letters to Mrs. Darroch
No. CXXII.
Edinburgh, 4th February 1844.
MY DEAR MRS. DARROCH, — I wrote Mrs. Cardwell last Sabbath, and imagine that she must now have left for England. A week has since intervened, but it makes no difference in the feeling, which will long remain with me, of the great and yet recent calamity wherewith we have all been visited. The sense of recency will subside, but never on this side of death the sense of a very great and mournful bereavement. Such a friendship, so steadfast and so exuberant of all that was kind, and beneficent, and generous to me and mine, I never expect to be re placed in this world.
I wonder that people should make a question of our knowing each other, and having the Christian attachments of the present life renewed and perpetuated in a future state. The passage in 1 Thess. iv. 13-18, leaves no doubt in my mind on this subject — a passage given to us for the express purpose of mitigating our sorrow because of those who, like your dear and sainted mother, have fallen asleep in Jesus. The proper and the obviously intended comfort here presented to us is, that we, their followers in the same faith and hope, shall be ever with the Lord, and therefore ever with them also. And then as to the idea that all special affections will be lost in a general and equal charity for all alike, we should ever recollect that our Saviour on earth exemplified a more intense friendship for some than for others, as in the case of John, who is signalized among all the other disciples as the one whom Jesus loved. Nowr, the very character He had on earth He has borne up with Him to heaven, and we, if like unto Him, may indulge the very pre- * Mrs. Parker’s eldest daughter.
ferences and special likings which He did. And on these grounds I do cherish the hope, that not only will I know and recognise and renew my acquaintance with her in heaven, but that I will continue there to be on the same cordial, and intimate, and affectionate footing with her which has subsisted here for the long period of nearly thirty years, and that without a flaw.
The comforts of religion are the only comforts which should be urged on such occasions; for they are, indeed, the only comforts which avail us. Could we have but a realizing sense of that secure and blissful place where are the spirits of the just made perfect, it would greatly soften and alleviate the trial which now lies upon you. And it would do more than console: it would help to transfer and to elevate our affections from earth to heaven. Never, I believe, had a family greater cause for rejoicing, even under the weight of this heavy bereavement, than the children, and relatives, and friends of her who has now left us for a season, but whom we shall meet again, if but followers of them who through faith and patience are now inheriting the promises.
Every such dispensation should have the effect of keeping us closer by the Saviour. What a privilege it is, that we have free access to God through Him; and to God in the endearing character of a Father reconciled to His strayed children, and rejoicing over them to do them good. He founds an argument on the kindness of our earthly parents which I think should tell with immense power upon you in your present circumstances. You cannot fail to recollect — they will come to your memory with a touching and tender impression that might well-nigh overwhelm your feelings — all the goodness you have experienced at the hands of your earthly parents, their longing earnestness for your wellbeing, their efforts, and attentions, and sacrifices to make you happy. It is on these sure premises that the argument of our blessed Saviour must come to your heart with resistless demonstration, — “If ye that are earthly parents know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask Him? Ask, and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and the door shall be opened to you.”
My kindest sympathies and regards to Major Darroch and to the General, whom I love; and ever believe me, my very dear Mrs. Darroch, yours with sincerest aifection, No. CXXIII.
Edinburgh, Morningside, 2d February 1845.
MY DEAR MRS. DARROCH, — How the visions of the past flit on my remembrance while writing to you. It is a matter of very great thankfulness in regard to your brother that an out going has at length been opened for him. But when one thinks of the shortlivedness of all that is earthly, and looks back on the days both of Blochairn and Fairley, as now to be numbered with the times before the Flood, it makes us sit loose to the prospects of this world, and to acquiesce in the sentiment of the poet, that there is nothing bright but Heaven; or rather to present it in a more authentic form, that the fashion of this world passeth away, but that He who made the world endureth for ever.
I most thoroughly sympathize with feelings so naturally awakened, and so touch ingly expressed on the occasion of this sorrowful yet sacred anniversary. It is good to recall the memory of the righteous, for it is a memory which is blessed.
I have not seen Winslow’s work; but I am reading with the greatest interest our old friend E. B. Elliott’s work on the Revelation. I will do him the justice to say that I think it far the completest and most satisfactory exposition of the prophecy which I have read, though he does our Free Church the very grossest injustice by his rash and most ignorant deliverance upon our question.
Do give my best regards to Mrs. Cardwell when you write to her. — Ever believe me, my dear Mrs. Darroch, yours most affectionately, THOMAS CHALMERS.
No. CXXIV.
Fairkij, 15tJi June 1845.
MY VERY DEAR MRS. DARROCH, — I have been here for several days, and much both in the house and grounds, which are so familiar to me. I never felt such an experimental impression of the precariousness of all things here below as now, when the scene of my brightest recollections is so transformed by the disappearance of her who gave its chief interest to the village and neighbourhood, and to all their society. Yet I cannot say how thankful I am that I am so kindly, nay, urgently entreated to make as much a home of the house as possible. Our head quarters are with Miss M’Call, but my forenoon study is your dear mother’s bedroom; and I can evidently see that both Mr. and Mrs. George are disappointed if I do not follow it up by dining with them, which I am all the more inclined to do, that it gives me the opportunity of talking and taking an afternoon round with him. I rejoice to find that he is obviously progressing in health and strength, though I think he is perhaps inclined to exert himself too much, and not to make a sufficient use of his sofa. You may well believe that the well-known relics and memorials of other days inspire a pensiveness which is melancholy no doubt, but still which I love to indulge in. Let me die her death that I may share in her blessed resurrection.
We remain here till “Wednesday the 25th, or other ten days. We thence go in a body to Arran, and are besides engaged to spend some time at Tillichewan. I think it better to transport my family by one movement from Arran to Tillichewan; but either during my visit there, or at the termination of it, I must spend some time, though it should only be one day, at Gourock. I know not how it is with younger people, but I confess that the twenty-eight years of converse and correspondence with you and yours have established in my heart a most intense and steadfast feeling of relationship to you all. Give my best regards to Major Darroch, and to the General, whom I love. I am reading to-day a book which I am sure would have been rich and precious as marrow to the dear and departed saint who is now in Heaven, “Owen on the Glory of Christ,” He died at sixty-seven,* and it is his last work — the work of one who writes as on the borders of eternity. I am only two years behind him, and four years behind what her age was when, seventeen months ago, she entered into rest. — I am, my dearest Mrs. Darroch, yours very affectionately and truly, Monday Morning.
Since writing the three last pages, I called on your brother yesterday evening (Sunday). He asked me to conduct family worship, which brought to me the vivid and affecting recollection of similar occasions. The identical form was brought in, and the identical man-servant sat on it, along with four maid servants. These things tell powerfully on my memory, as do the pictures in the dining-room, and the paper in the drawing-room. I am glad I have come here; and what makes it all the more satisfactory is, that I am on such pleasant and kind terms with your brother, who begs, that over and above my study and my dinner, I should also take my siesta in his house.
* The age at which Dr. Chalmers also died.
O
I have not yet thanked you for the great enjoyments which my family had in Gourock House, and more especially my little grandson. — T. C.
No. CXXV.
Wishaw, 29th July 1845.
MY VERY DEAR MRS. DARROCH, — We arrived here to-day at twelve, by the railway. Nothing could exceed the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Tennant, with whom we spent a very pleasant evening, and had a very delightful, and to me all the more so, that it was a small party — consisting of themselves along with Drs. Forbes and Rainy, both of whom I hold in high estimation.
I am at present with my brother here, and expect, if God will, to reach home on Thursday.
This excursion to the west has given me a higher opinion than I ever had before of the Christian worth and friendship which we have so abundantly experienced in the various quarters that we have visited. And certainly there is no place which stands dearer to all my recollections and regards than Gourock. I love the General, and my next letter will be addressed to himself some time next week I hope. May the Spirit work effectually in him and in all of us. I shall never forget those words of death-bed experience and manifestation uttered by her who has gene before him, and which read so impressively upon her tombstone, — “Let me die the death of the righteous, let my latter end be like theirs,”
It was proposing a great deal too much that I should take east with me the precious MS. which you had entrusted to my keeping for a few weeks. I had looked it all over, but had not read it all thoroughly. I hope, however, that my next visit will be one of greater quietness than I was permitted to enjoy in any other house than your own. It were altogether delicious to read with you within doors the sentences that flowed from the pen and were dictated from the earnest heart of her who is now enshrined in blessedness and glory among the spirits of the just made perfect. Oh that, like her, I could live a life of faith on the Son of God, and then should I live a life Loth of love and of holiness. May the Giver of all grace sanctify and elevate my affections, and save me from all those evil influences which war against the soul. — I ever am, my dearest Madam, yours with the greatest affection, THOMAS CHALMERS.
No. CXXVI.
Monzie, 13th August 1845.
MY VERY DEAR MRS. DARROCH, — You must not forbid my writing to you; for I have great pleasure in keeping up a correspondence that originated in the most precious recollections of other days, and is fitted to perpetuate and to foster them.
I omitted to leave the enclosed with you, (copy of a marriage service,) having reserved to myself a short-hand copy of it, which I shall put in the portfolio of dear Mrs. Parker, along with the precious death-bed sayings of Mrs. General Darroch. The blank paper which you have left me of that truly valuable record can just accommodate in short-hand the other record which I have only read this day for the first time since I littered it in the drawing-room at Fairley. I am glad to observe that there is no want of keeping between them; and that on that occasion I spoke in the degree I did of the coming death and the coming eternity.
Have the goodness to tell Mr. East* how thankful I am for his work, with which I hope to make myself acquainted soon. It will give me the greatest pleasure to see him on his way through Edinburgh. When I am at home his best chance for seeing me is at nine to breakfast. I fear, however, that I shall be a good deal from home all this month, and also part of the next. I am to make a point, however, of remaining at home * The Rev. Timothy East of Birmingham.
afterwards for many months. — Believe me, my very dear Mrs. Darroch, yours most sincerely, THOMAS CHALMERS.
No. CXXVII.
Edinburgh, 5th February 1847.
MY VERY DEAR MRS. DARROCH, — This is very very sad. I like the General, and always liked him; nor am I at all surprised when you tell me of the manner in which he is affected by your utterance of Bible texts. It is quite in keeping with the way in which he was moved at family -worship on my last visit to Gourock House. May God by His Spirit, though in His own mysterious way, bring home that truth to his mind, the knowledge of which is life everlasting.
Perhaps he will recollect my name, and if he do, I should like my message to him to consist of the following verses, which might be read to my dear old friend as he is able to bear it: — John xiv. 1; 1 John iv. 8, last clause; 1 John iv. 1 0; 1 John i. 7, last clause; Isaiah xliii. 2, first clause; Isaiah xlv. 22; Isaiah xlv. 21, last clause; Luke ix. 56; John iii. 14-17; 2 Cor. v. 19.
May He who is a very present help in the time of trouble, be present with you all on this solemn occasion. What a world of change and utter vanity we live in! May we die unto it daily, and live unto Him who liveth for ever.
God bless and sustain you all, my very dear Mrs. Darroch, yours most affectionately, THOMAS CHALMERS.
No. CXXVIII.
Morningside, 14th February 1847.
MY DEAR MRS. DARROCH, — Having not heard from you since your note of Monday, I flatter myself that there has been no change for the worse.
Meanwhile let us humbly hope and earnestly pray for the merciful dealings of God’s free and willing Spirit with his soul.
What an encouragement .and what a liberal warrant for those intercessions which God wills us to make in behalf of all men, and on the express ground too that He wills all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. Couple this with the declaration that whatsoever we ask for, which is agreeable to the will of God, that we shall receive; and I can imagine nothing more complete in the way of authorizing us to ask till we receive, to seek till we find, to knock till the door of salvation be opened, that we and those who are near and dear to us may enter in. — Yours with great affection, No. CXXIX.
Edinburgh, Morningside, list February 1847.
MY VERY DEAR MRS. DARROCii, — I was prepared to receive your affecting intelligence; but however much looked for, the event itself never fails to strike and to solemnize us. This is as it ought to be; but how little, alas! does the mere pathos or tenderness of natural feeling avail of itself to make us wisely and practically, and to good or saving purpose, considerate of our latter end.
I always liked the General, and ever felt as if there was the force of a natural affinity betwixt us. I am much interested by what you tell me of his latter end. “God is love,” and that is a consideration which ought always to keep us from despair, either for ourselves or others, though without prejudice to the moral influences of another lesson, no less emphatically true, that “God is holiness.”
What a blessed economy, what an exquisite skilfulness in it, how unsearchable are its riches, in that by virtue of its provisions, these two attributes of the Divinity are so fully harmonized; mercy and truth have met together, righteousness and peace have entered into fellowship. May yours, my dearest Mrs. Darroch, be all the comfort and all the sanctifying influence which this contemplation is fitted to administer, as in the glass of the Gospel you look at the blended love and holiness of the Godhead.
I beg that you will offer to the Major my most affectionate condolence, and to all your family; and when you write dear Mrs. Cardwell, tell her of my heart-felt regards. What a retrospect of other years is now present to my memory; and in vivid picture there is also that family burial-place to the south of your house where the General is now lying.. May your children learn wisdom at his grave. — My dearest Madam, yours most affectionately, THOMAS CHALMERS.