Chapter IV
The Dirine Glory in oonoeaUiig — Second year at Trinily — Letters to bia oousina — Jonmal — Tnflnenoe of the Scriptorea — Prayer and Stody — BxaznpleB: Watta, Hilton, Baoon, Johnson, Payaon, Whitmore Winalow- Honoora in Logic — Dublin University Prayer Union** — Appeal for misaionariea — Martin — “Undecgradaatea* Philoaophical Society in Wicklow XDoontaina — Hia views of dancing — Sympathy with stndenta — Bev. Charles Simeon — Sermon to yoong men — Bev. John Gregg’s dasa — Close of JonmaL
It has been remarked that it is difficult to say whether the glory of God appears more in what He displays or in what He conceals of His operations and designs. Perhaps, with our present limited knowledge, it would be impossible to speak with exactness; but of this we may be assured, that, whatever He does is worthy of Himself — that, whether the moving pillar that guides our joumeyings turns to us a bright or a cloudy aspect, it is conducting us truly and safely onward, and will certainly bring us to our Father’s house — the heavenly Canaan of our eternal rest. Were the personal experiences of Gk)d’s people compared, it would, perhaps, be found that it was neither day nor night, but the skilful and harmonious blending of light and shade — the combination of discoyery and conceahnent — which traced each path along which a covenant God was leading them. And yet, how often are we compelled to panse in our jonmey and exclaim — not in rebellion, but in awftd astonishment, — “Verily, Thou art a Ood that hidest Thyself!” Profoundly indebted as we are to the love of God for His revelations, not less so are we for His concealments. It is His glory and it is our happiness that He often veils from ns the thing that He is about to do. It is thus that we are led to thread our way through tLe maze of life, in the constant exercise of a child-like faith in God; and it is thus, moreover, that impressions of the Divine excellence are made upon the mind the most vivid and profound. Oh yes, it is the glory of God — and His goodness is His glory — to conceal His purposes and ways; and it was thus darkly, yet graciously, He was now guiding the footsteps of His young servant!
In November, 1854, Whitmore Winslow entered upon his second and last year at Trinity. The place in his rooms, rendered vacant by the removal of his cousin to Cambridge, was occupied by a gentleman admirably fitted by piety, intelligence, and taste, to inspire his friendship, and to participate in his studies. The freshness and earnestness with which he girded himself for a new course of reading, and the devotional tone of mind which blended with his intellectnal pursuits, will be gathered from his own pen. To his oonsm, a student of Cains College, Cambridge, he writes: —
“Trinity College, DuUin. “My deab Heney, — Here I am in my old abode once more, and everything hitherto has been of the most agreeable character, and my only wish is that you and Stephen were with me. I think you will regret leaving, and another year’s trial would materially have altered your views. K and C expressed themselves very sorry that you had not returned, the latter
especially. They and S spent the evening with me
yesterday, and seemed very pleased to meet and talk over their diflFerent adventures during the vacation. It
was only yesterday that I got into my rooms, and K
will not be in until Tuesday. I think we shall get on well together. We have laid out extensive plans for mutual improvement, of which, if but the half be realized, we shall do amazingly welL He proposed reading the Bible through, and composing a sermon once a month, going in for Catecheticals, brushing up Mathematics, and a host of other equally admirable propositions. Breakfasting punctually at eight o’clock he has pinned me down to, and I, more than meeting him half way, insist upon his calling me at six o’clock. So much for the future. It is nice to meet old faces again, and I feel quite at home. Nobody seems to have gone into the examination. One has been on the Contment, like myself; another has been enjoying himself at home; a third, upon reflection, thought it was foolish to kill himself with reading; a fourth was
in, &C. You know C began to read six months in
advance for this October examination. Well, he only arrived a few days ago, and said he had been shooting with some Oxford men, and had given the thing up
entirely. K has been so agreeably occupied that
he never dreamt of anything of the kind. However, we are all the better for the recreation we have had,
and will go to work with all the more energy. W
has just passed a fifth Senior Moderator in Ethics, which was very good, and I think better than he expected.
With love to all,
“I am, your affectionate Cousin,
“Whitmore.”
“Trinity College, Dublin, Nov, 19.
“My deab H, — As you have so promptly and
kindly sympathised with my success in the Honour examination, I am equally happy to be able to congratulate you on dating your letter from Cambridge. We are now in the same race again, and though, I am sorry to say, not running side by side, may we meet at the same goal, and be the happier and the wiser for the course we have taken. If we continue in the same principles with which we started, and look up for the one blessing that can alone make our studies successful and beneficial, we have every reason to expect it. You remember our first night at Dublin, when we occupied the same room in our kind friend, Miss C.’s house, how we thought and talked of the future; and what wimiiBg and alluring pictures we conjured up in our minds of all that was as yet a dream. How we wondered at the fortunes of our family, and whether we should add oir name to theirs in, perhaps, a yet higher and nobler pa& of virtue and fame! How we desired to educate our nature in heart and intellect, and throw off everything that would tend to degrade it! How we dwelt, in food expectancy, on many a youthful hope of happiness, oa many a cherished scheme that was to witness its fulfilment in ourselves! All this, and more, needs but a moment’s thought to recall in vivid colours to our present consciousness. Let it spur us on to the still distant perspective. The present is our field of action, and God will not suffer us to toil in vain if we but toil arii Men tell ua that the hopes of youth are vain. They wrong us. If they are vain, it is that ioe are foolish. With a firm virtue and God’s blessing, every true cause will bring its true result. I have often wished for your society, to imburden thought as we used sometimes to
do I had a close run myself to get into the
’ classed,’ having given the most of my time of oourae to Logics, and it certainly was hard work to do both. But success in Honours was all that I wanted, and, through God’s blessing, I did better than ever I expected. I have been taking long walks lately towards Killiney and Bray. I expect you will not find the country round Cambridge so inviting. I shall be glad to hear hom you when you have time.
“Your affectionate Cousin,
“Whitmobe Winslow.”
To another of his cousins he writes: —
“Trinity College Dublin,
“My deae O , — P writes me that I have
been so negligent as to have incurred the debt of a letter to yon; but as I am totally ignorant of the fact, I hope an immediate acknowledgment of the same will make up for so long standing through unwitting deficiency. You will see that I am once more shut up within the cloisters of Trinity, though wanting the pleasant companionship of those that cheered our last year’s residence here. I hope, however, it will be for their best, though I have my fears on the subject. From all that I have heard of Cambridge life, they will find difficulties and temptations there that they would not find at Dublin.
I dare say you heard of my going off to the Continent this summer, in company with Miss C. I
greatly enjoyed it, and hope, in some things, derived material benefit. The excitement of travelling, strange scenes and people, and the multifarious objects that crowded upon the mind, seemed to give new vigour and buoyancy to our spirits, and suggested notions of men and things which no book could inspire or describe. It might be injurious or dissipating if prolonged, but otherwise not. A great deal depends upon the companions you are with, and the society you meet. .As to the latter, we could not have been more fortunate, and I shall always regard one of the chief charms of travelling to be the nimiber of delightful people you are thrown among, whom you might never come across in England. They throw off all the imnatural reserve that generally clings to them at home, and every one is as much your friend as if you had known him for years. Of all five nations that I have seen, I would say, give me the English, though I believe there is much in which we might take lessons from them. One thing that struck me was the universal good-wiU manifested by all classes to one another. There is little of the class demarcation that we have. It appears to me that the result was a greater politeness of manner and warmer feeling amongst the peasantry. Switzerland at once pleased and disappointed me, partially because I had formed too lofty a conception. I heard a curious remark from a gentleman at Chamouni, alluding to the feeling which some entertain, ‘That it was like being awoke from a delicious dream by a dustman’s bell;’ adding that ‘things in Switzerland are like things everywhere else, — you must not go too near them.’ I did not, however, quite agree with him in this. Some particular spots and circumstances have riveted themselves upon my memory, and I look back upon them with indescribable delight. ....
Your affectionate Cousin,
“Whitmore.”
Amidst other and more secular studies, the elevating subject of Prophecy had not escaped his thoughts. He alludes to this in a letter addressed to one of his cousins, with whom he proposes an epistolary discussion of the subject.
“I heartily concur in your proposition for discussing between us the subject of Prophecy, a subject which for some time has been deeply interesting to me. But we should enter upon it with a deep sense of our inability and of the many difficulties connected with it, and I think, by prayerful study and meditation, we may find much clear and practical truth, beneficial in a spiritual point of view. And this we should always aim at with regard to study, so constantly does the spirit flag and grow weary, and what is more, become blimt through too great a contact with worldly and secular things. Some object to the study of Prophecy as being unprofitable, as leading to absurd and flighty notions, and as being presumptuous. Sir Isaac Newton says with regard to unfulfilled prophecy, that it is not intended for fore-interpretation, but for after-illustration. He shows it by analogy with the prophecies of Christ, that they were never understood in the detail, but always interpreted wrongly; that nothing but their fulfilment was the key that unlocked them, and that so it will be with all that is now unfulfilled. I admit there is some reason in this, and yet I am so bold as to differ from the great man, and I do so on scriptural grounds. See Luke xxiv. 13 — 26. Christ, in these passages, clearly upbraids the Jews and his disciples with their want of perception with regard to the prophecies concerning Himself. ’ fools and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! ‘Now I think this shows that they might have made better use of prophecy, and thus have come nearer the truth than they did, terribly mysterious as it was. And, surely, if it was possible with them, and they for their ignoianoe were upbraided by Christ Himself, we, having immensely superior advantages in eliciting truth and in unraveUing prophecy, ought to arrive at some result, and are justified, nay, urged upon to do so. ‘Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy.*
‘’ Besides, the delightful character of the study is, thit it is Christ all through. He is its object and subject ‘To Him give all the prophets toitnessJ ‘The testimowjf of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy,* This first chapter ei Revelation embodies volumes of spiritual truth, and much subject for ample discussion. The mysteries throughout the whole book are awful and sublime. They centre around the head of Christ like clouds, dark and ominous, waiting but the moment when they will burst forth upon an astonished and guilty world, scattering desolation and judgment, but reflecting upon Him increased magnificence and glory. The Revelation is indeed sublime — some of its passages unequalled; and if we can only between us unravel some of its mysteries by the help of God’s Spirit, it will be gratifying. At all events the attempt will be beneficial; it will give a greater acquaintance with Scripture, and exercise our critical and analytical powers as well as those of composition.
“The first verse shows that these things ‘must shortly come to pass* Now must we take this literally, and infer that none of these events did actually take place some little time after their prediction, or what ratio of time are we to apply? Does it mean some hundreds of yeais? If so, we may be as far off from their fulfilment as John was from our time. Some argue that if the time was near at hand then, it must be nearer now. Exactly so, but at that proportion we may be some hundreds of years from the end yet. I am inclined to think, if we take this literally, it favours the idea of the part fulfilment of at least some of the predictions in Revelation, which is the opinion of certain divines. But I hope we shall elucidate this in our further discussion of the subject. The word ayycXos is used to express so many different things, that we must depend entirely upon the context and collateral evidence for its meaning whenever used. For my part, I consider Tw ayycXcu t iy *E^oxD (chapter iL) to mean the messenger or minister of the Church at Ephesus, which idea appears to be carried all through. Certainly this second chapter is against its meaning the Holy Spirit, because not only his work and labour are commended, but he is upbraided for degeneracy: verse 4. So that I consider our idea of Minister to be meant, and that through him the CSiurches were to be warned and encouraged. ....
“There is much greater difficulty to determine the ’ seven spirits before the throne.’ By parallel passages, I hardly think they mean the Holy Spirit. Chapter iv. 5: ‘Seven lamps of fire burning before the t krone, which are the seven spirits of God.’ The word ‘seven’ implies perfection, or accomplishment; as when God employed six days for the work of creation, and concluded or perfected it by the seventh. But I always took the ‘Spirit of God’ to be a distinct and indivisible person. Now ‘seven’ implies completeness, but not indivisibility, unless the ’ seven spirits ’ are the seven.
attrilKites of the ‘One Spirit, of which the Comforter
may be one. This may be a novel idea of mine, but
imless some such explanation be given, I should hesitate
to ascribe it to the Holy Ghost. We know that He
strives with men, and in various ways. Zech. iv. 10:
* Those Severn, they are the eyes of the Lord, which move
to and Jro thnmgh the whole earihJ* This may be
another of the attributes. Their position before the
throne for the purpose of worship or communion with
God may be another. If so, I should be inclined to
think it was the Holy Spirit spoken of in verse 4, from
the connection with God and Christ; and we generally
read of the grace of God and Christ in conjunction with
that of the Holy Spirit But what means the order? The
position is imusuaL The Spirit as proceeding from the
Father and the Son is generally placed last in the
Trinity, but here it would be before Christ. Observe,
in contradistinction, how plain and unmistakeable are
the attributes of God and of Christ. What a beautiful
idea, Hhe first and the last I ’ — the substance of all true
religion, and yet so sadly lost sight of in the various
creeds and professions extant in this world. When the
great and last day arrives, the imiverse will behold in
all its naked sublimity this truth, to us so glorious,
to them so awfuL After all, I have only touched upon
the threshold of this first chapter, but time for the
present will permit no more.”
We recur again to his journal, wbicli appears to assume rather a new phase, containing less reference to the spiritual than the intellectnal workings of bis mind. Thoughts, rather than feelings, would seem to trace its pages.
“Dublin, December, 1854. — Psa. cxxxix. Elevated in spirit by the perusal of this beautiful Psalm. When the soul retires within itself, and is absorbed in thoughts of God, then alone it receives pure happiness, and scorns with the most holy abomination all that is around it of earth. What a proof of the immortality of the soul, and of its adaptedness and destiny for heaven! When from this communion of spirit it comes back into the world — what emptiness and vanity! How many enigmas that have puzzled philosophers for ages are solved in a moment, though this appears the most insolvable, that men can live without God. How is it that I live so constantly without Him? That those with whom I daily associate appear to live so much without Him? It is indeed a mystery, while the soul enjoys for a time purity and happiness in communion with God; but when relapsing again into worldly and sinful habits, the wonder ceases when the cause, the radical cause, is so apparent. Thus does communion with God reverse our modes of thinking, rendering clearer than light the most mysterious dogmas of theology, and explaining this, so little wondered at, more mysterious than all, — that man can live without God!
‘*2Zrd, — Reason and conscience may, indeed, convince ns of the being of God, as they did the ancients, but oh, what a cold abstraction! I turn from it and embrace Him with love as mine in the dearest and tenderest of relations, and then — sweet moment! — I distance all idea in actuality.’*
“Trinity College, Dublin, Feb, 1st, 1856. — I verily believe that man is often conscious, yea, deeply conscious, of truth, when he avows either ignorance or unbeliei He starts an inquiry with the hope of answering it by reason and argument, when, did he but consult his own heart, he would find the answer there. He searches and delves deep into externals, and ends in becoming more awfully mystified than before, simply because he imagines he cannot be convinced that this thing is, until he dicovers the reason why. He forgets that the only reason for anything is derived from himself, and that he could gather no law from without, could he gather no law from within. Consciousness is that power of knowing which God has given to us, tests everything, and no test but that can give a man peace. Let him then study himself — not any particular part, but his entire self; and I am very much mistaken if that study will not necessitate his knowledge of a God, and in the end lead him to a Saviour, who, breathing in him His love, will queU all his fears and remove all his mysterious doubts.”
“Men either mould their circumstances to their own will, or allow their circumstances to mould them. So that it is not true to say that a man is wholly a child of circimistance. We do, indeed, see that most men are moulded by circumstances; but the reason of this is, they allow themselves so to be, which act, or course of action, resolves itself into a passive or active exerciBO of the wilL For since we see that men, possessing the same external advantages, and under the same external circumstances, make a very different use of them, and 80 become different men in character, we aigue that it is from the presence or absence of power in themselves. A man is only so far as he makes himself, or allows himself ‘to be made; if he give himself up a passive instrument in the hand of time and circumstance, he alone is to blame for the miserable result that will follow; but if he determine to mould himself, and make time and circumstances his instruments, he will find the struggle and the toil to be severe indeed; but happiness the result, for ‘Heaven will aid the man that aids Himself.’”
March VJth, — * Be not wise in thine ovon eyesJ* (Prov. iii. 7.) Educate the heart as well as the mind, and thou wilt learn to despise no one. CJomparative excellence will then appear as far different from real excellence as earth from heaven. The more thou dost contemplate the highest, the difference between thyself and others will appear the more vivid.
“28t — * Shall mortal man be more just than God? shall a mpan he more pure than his Maker?* (Job iv. 17.) The deep and, I believe, wilful ignorance of man with regard to himself is in nothing more apparent than his constant effort of self-justification. He throws a gloss over all his errors and lays them to the account of necessity or law; and though he dare not outwardly charge them to the misgovemment of Grod, he secretly cherishes the hard thought within. He doubts and questions, and at last despairs. He sees sin hurrying him on to destmctioii, ruin staring him in the face, and charges it all on God. He carries within him a heart hard, impenetrable, presenting a brazen front to the gentle influence of love. He cannot see that his own choice or his own neglect has brought him to a condition in which, perhaps, he really has no power, no will, no desire to avert his ruin. Can there be a time in the history of a man in which it may be said, ‘God has left him? ‘Is there a point deyond which there is no hope? I believe it! Yet, ’ shM mortal man be more just tJian God? ‘”
‘*26^A. — ‘Sleep on — behold, the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners! ‘Alas! what a world! One sees not its spirit until one mingles with it. The internal world may have occupied our thoughts; the active presence of sin there may have called forth conflict, and, as a consequence, engendered sorrow, if not despair. But when we are forced by circumstances to * leave the inner man,’ and mingle with the outtr world, to witness and feel its spirit and conduct, we return with the whole head and the whole heart faint. We charge it often to a fault in ourselves, something radically wrong, a subtle poison that taints everything we touch. Is it so? It may be, but God forbid that it should always be so. No, it is not this, nor is it self-esteem; but it is a silent, secret, and scarcely perceived assimilation of the soul to the likeness of God; and it is this that makes the world distasteful Oh, happy man that finds it so from this cause, not from having run the round of its gaieties and found their emptiness — not from the disquiet of satiety — but from the feeling that
God fills the soul, absorbs the intellect and the a£fections! This, and this alone, is happiness. Thou hast a grasp upon infinity, thy boundless desires have found a boundless Being, and thou art satisfied.*’
“Ajnil 2nd, 1855. T. C, J9. — ‘There is no logic in love,’ says a modern writer. Equally I believe is reason out of pla«e in the attempt to know God: that is, to know Him for oneself, know Him consciously. His existence I cannot doubt, for His works are all around me. For my own mechanism I can find no other originator, for the continued miracle of its maintenance I know no other supporter — all this my reason tells me; it is the acknowledgment of a universal fact, the argument of a cause to an ever-present effect. But when I feel that God pervades my soul; when my mind, heart, body, debate for some few minutes, it may be, with His love; when I am most blissfully conscious of the Divinity to such a degree that, could I stamp eternity upon these five or ten minutes, it would be heaven, reason appears like a child, forgotten or absorbed in manhood. Oh that it could be always so! Would that I could constantly feel as I now feel! — but this is impossible, for earth can never contain heaven. These little glimpses are to strengthen faith, confirm hope, showing us that we are in the wake of blissful realities, and not following cunningly devised /ables.^
“lOth, — Ambition’s height — the Christian’s desire is not simply to be man-like, but Grod-like.
“llth, — What is to check the tremendous tendency of man downward? Let the spirit be ever so aB^iring;.^ lofty, pure, there is dogging it at every step a foe that would cruh it. It gravitates to earth, and earth to heO — alas, alas!
“* Finally J brethren, whatsoever things are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, 0/ good repute, think on these things,^ or, as in the Greek, * esteem these things,^ Concentrate into your being all the beauty and wisdom you can gather from the realms of nature, and of thought and act it out; if you make it a part of yourself, insinuating it into all your modes and feelings, you mtist act it out almost involuntarily, only be careful thoroughly to analyse, digest, absorb it. Keep it constantly around and within you, for it is the only gold worth keeping. Burnish it continually, for while you are continually adding to our stock suffer not any to become tarnished with rust. Oh, to be ruled by the lovely, the lovable, the pure, the holy, the wise! — it is the only thing that can keep the soul calm amidst surrounding confusion, untainted amidst a world of pollution.”
“April 2Ath, — Upon what known principles can we expect at death a similar transformation of dissimilar and unequal minds? WiU not character as it is moulded here correspond with its state hereafter? Will the man who has known heaven on earth in no respect dififer from the man who lived all his life in ignorance of God, but who, by the intervention of His grace, was saved at the eleventh hour? Will the latter enter at once upon equal knowledge, equal experience, equal happiness with the former? Will neither preserve their distinct individuality, so that both shall reap the fruit of his life on earth? Or are we to suppose that two exactly opposite courses of life shall obtain the same result? Is it natural, or does God’s word warrant us to expect such a thing? Would it not write folly upon the Christian’s efforts after holiness, and his terrible conflicts with evil, and place in the most dangerous light the life of the man who has given the reins to every passion and form of sin, and yet arrived at the same pinnacle of glory? Would this be to * render unto every man according to his deeds? ‘No, I believe the vast superiority of a life of godliness and faith will only be fully known and experienced in eternity.’*
‘’ June IQth, — How much of the anim/us ipi men may be gathered from a single thought casually uttered! When repeated in such a manner as to show that that thought was but one of a train, it is astonishing how different the conclusion one draws from what men intend. Above all, the tone may convey a meaning which words fail to conceal In fact, it is hard to be charitable in spite of oneself; to believe a man honest and sincere, or rather, desiring to know the truth, when the unwelcome conviction rushes unbidden upon your mind that beneath the surface all is dark and rank. Oh, the cold shudder that creeps over the spirit when one sees an individual apparently seeking medicine for his soul, kicking against God, because he finds sin and misery in himself and the world; rushing to despair, cherishing the hard and cruel thought that Grod made him a sinner and left him lost and hopeless! O God! forgive, forgive! and send out Thy light and Thy truth upon a dark and sinful world.”
‘* I4th. — I find no corrective to languor of spirit or cepticism of mind like a perusal of the Bible and the xercise of prayer. This alone makes a man himible nd exalts his views of God. All other studies which, more or less imparting acuteness to the intellect, and purifying it from much of the dross that association and prejudice always links with every kind of knowledge, still leave a man but a many starting from himself and ranging the universe, and finding his landing where he set out — his own particular self. This does not satisfy the boundless desires of the sotlL To be happy — fixedly happy — it must bathe in deeper streams than those of earth — affiliation with Crod through His Son — warmth ot love, personal, yet pure and distinct from cold abstrac* tion, are the healthiest nourishment of the soul. Men find this out with but a short experience of the world, and the further they go the further they prove it; and far and wide it reigns a general truth.”
**l9th, T. C, D, — Man is a being of moods — at times darkness, at times light. But did he only interrogate himself, and examine the characters of others, to mark when he or they see clearly, he would learn a history of truth which neither consideration nor argument nor instillation from books could so convincingly impart. He must observe in contrast the period of darkness, and study accurately its causes. But if my experience in psychology goes for anything, a man will never know that he has been in darkness until he sees the light. Coming to the light, which is Christ, he seeth his deeds to be eviL Then a reflex ray thrown back upon the gloom he has left, he sees it to be utter blackness — but only then.
“Minds differ, experience differs; but when a man has hit upon a truth which seems to sweep away mountains of difficulty, leaving nothing to be levelled, he humbly believes it general. But let us see. Do you believe in ‘universal sin’ — that every one hath that which pollutes all that he thinks, says, or does? No, thy faith in mankind belies this; and if it be a truth, it is about the last truth learned. Your young years bask beneath a parent’s smile, you think all is pure and true. As years advance suspicion lurks, yet ’tis long before thy drekm is altogether dispelled. Trust in man still lingers. When thou enterest the world a man, a harsher story is told thee. Many deceive and injure thee, and seem to take delight in giving thee pain. It is a hard world, and thou leamest it soon enough — but Still trust lingers. Thy intellect begins to work — it must have food. Men tell thee this and that, and thou believest. But when thou becomest sure, ’tis a curious change. Thou mayest have been told of God, His justice. His anger. His love; but when thou beginnest to learn by experience something more than names, thou seest thyself and mankind in a new position — blind, dark, lost. Sin and sorrow take hold of thee before thou hast scarcely learned their existence. If — ah, that sad word, implying so much that is wanting — if thou hast learned of God, learned to love and fear Him, before the world and Satan, thou wilt perceive thyself and all others to be apart from God. And this is the first grand lesson to be learned — the last with most men
—for I scarce believe an individual can know lie is in darkness until he gets a glimpse of the light. I gite it as the first axiom of psychology. If this be MH-and I learn it more from revelation than from reaami, mm from fact than from discourse — then I must receive witk caution and distrust the doctrines of men; I must vacate the sensible sphere of human knowledge, and enter spiritual, or I am no better than the beasta that peiiBk €rod, and Grod alone, must be my oracle — my trust.
“It is the nature and delight of man to lean vjpoa and entwine with something exterior to himself. The noblest virtue is the sacrifice of himself to some kindred being congenial with himself in feeling, or dependent upon him from circumstance. Grod has crowned His universe with an exhibition similar to this. He made man in His own image, and loved him for his congeniality. He saw his dependence — a dependence heightened by his fall — and sent His Son to accept and relieve that dependence. Hast thou not experienced, my soul, the happiness, the delirium, the ecstasy of this divine relation? Has it not warmed thy affections, enlarged thy intellect, and been to thee the inlet to all knowledge? Let me, then, beware of the thought that would call Him to account, that would measure thy young arm against His mighty power. A derived and dependent being, thou boldest all from Him.
‘* T, C, D, — Did you ever know a truth to exhaust the truth I Half-truths are all that men can teach us; and even He, the God-man, who proclaimed Himself ‘The Truthf has left our curiosity unsatisfied in a thousand points. Pilate’s question, even granting him the merit of sincerity, was too large for a single and complete answer, and sQch that it appears to me to have received no direct answer at alL We are none of ns worthy of full knowledge. Have we shown that we have’ so far profited by the light we have as to warrant an increase? We are fools all, blind and ignorant, else we would see that the more we use and diffuse the light we possess, more oil we should bring to the lamp. The flame that now but flickers would brighten, and brighten exactly in proportion to our cultured powers.”
*’ January Zrd, 1856. T, C, /). — Who, but God Himself working in the mind by the Spirit, can teach men to separate objective truth — that which is handed from mouth to mouth, and from church to church, mingled with human opinions and the bias of individualities — from the pure genuine ’ daylight,* as Bacon terms it — which He Himself imparts immediately to the soul? If the only evidence I could obtain for truth were that offered to me by the walk and talk of many of my fellow-men, I should stumble and fall into the ditch, the blind votary of a blind guide. But the light of truth and the life of truth is offered pure to my soul by God Himself — so pure at times, when spirit with spirit communes in secret moments, that its radiance dazzles and overpowers the human sense, dissolving its grossness as it were into a delicious fluid of spiritual warmth and vision.
‘’ I put this into so many words, and it sounds to men like delirium. How can I show them the difference, and that it is compatible with what they call ‘sober tmth?’ That it is a reality and no delirium other moments prove to me when this clear vision is absent.
“. •. Does this destroy historical truth, historical Christianity, and leave a man no balance against the fancies of his own brain? This is a puerile fear. No historical Christianity in the world would move a man if it did not touch his soul. You might pile books upon books, and law upon law, as * Alp on Alp,’ and a man might run his head against them but to no purpose, if you could not show him, or rather, if he himself did not see that alone and beyond those books and those laws there reigned transcendent truth, invisible to the eye of sense, and incapable of being expressed but in a representative symbol. What is language, but the symbol of thought? What is history, but language? What is historical Christianity, but truth symbolized? God teaches a man in the use of this symbol to look beyond it and to hold communion with Himself. This it is which forms the safeguard of the Christian, amidst the varieties of human opinion. He who has Christ within him — who is actuated by a living principle, which seems to him his peculiar property — distinguishes real truth, real Christianity, from that which wears so many diflferent faces amongst men. He stumbles not, though sometimes staggered, at its imperfections and contradictions as they are seen in actual operation. He distinguishes these from the clear, genuine principle as it exists, and must exist, apart from human infirmity. Ask me to account for all the sects and parties high church, and low church, and no church — all boasting themselves to be Christanity. How can I? Know you not that unless yon bring with you the power of seeing you will never see? Unless you are willing to be a free man, and not a slave, you can never know the truth that maketh free. But. with a willing, earnest, anxious spirit coming to none but Grod, you shall learn from Him by silent intercourse what no words or indoctrinated opinions of man can teach you. Then will you value your Bible, then will you study it aright, then will you see your character, your inmost thoughts, your daily life mirrored before you. Christ’s wondrous words and wondrous life will stand out in all their beautiful proportions, and form for you a rule and model for life. Your old objections to the ’ hard sayings ’ and contradictory doctrines will vanish; you will study, and compare, and search, because your end will be to clear and ventilate your ideas — separating the true from the false. This eye of the soul enlightening the mind, who but God can give?”
Blending prayer with his studies, we are prepared to find God aiding and prospering them. Intellectnal and spiritual pursuits should never be separated. God in His economy has united them; and no man, without inflicting upon himself the most serious injury, can divorce them. It is of great moment to the student that he should get deeply fixed in his mind the idea of the dependence of the intellectual powers upon God. We do not exclude Him fipom the world of matter — for we ascribe to Him the motions and the destiny of every atom — why should we banish Him from the higher reahn of thought? The great secret of successfxQ study, and, indeed, of all literary pursuit, is the felt conviction of our need of Divine aid and direction. We cannot doubt that He who made our minds has still access to them; that, with infinite ease He can direct their aspirations — embarrass or facilitate — impede or propel them, just as He please. This He can do without the suspension of a single law, or for a moment disturbing in the least degree the harmony of our mental powers. “Think with yourself,” says a devout and deeply reflective writer, “how easily and how insensibly the Author of your being can, by one turn of thought, lead you into a large scene of useM ideas. He can teach you to lay hold on any clue which may guide your thoughts with safety and ease through all the difficulties of an intricate subject. He can direct your motions by His providence so that the glance of an eye, or a word striking the ear, or a sudden turn of the fancy, shall conduct you to a train of happy sentiments.” * Let the conviction, then, be deeply felt that study cannot be separated &om prayer without hazarding its success. If some men have risen to literary eminence without the aid of a
* Watts on the Mind.
devotional reliance upon God, how mncli higher a rank in the republic of letters might they have attained, and how much more useful to the world might have been their productions, had they united a prayerful with a studious mind! Milton, ere he composed his sublime epic, and Bacon, ere he wrote his “Novum Organum,” and Johnson,* in girding himself for his gigantic literary tasks, sought the aid of that “Eternal Spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and send out His seraphim with the hallowed fire of His altar to touch and purify the lips of whomsoever He pleases.” It is recorded of the holy Payson, that he studied theology on his knees. “Much of his time,” records his biographer, “he spent literally prostrated, with the Bible open before him, pleading the promise, * I will send the Oomforter. And when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will guide you into all truth,*”
The influence of habitual prayer upon his studies
* After conceiving fhe plan of one of his celebrated works, he composed and oflfered up the following prayer: — “Almighty Ood, theGirerof all good things, without whose help all laboor is ine£footnal, and without whose grace all wisdom is folly, grant, I beseech Thee, that in this my undertaldng Thy Holy Spirit may not be withheld from me, but that I may promote Thy glory and the salvation both of myself and others. Grant this, O Lord, for the sake of Jesus Christ. Amen.”
was so certain and so operative, that the strength of his devotion seems for the most part to have been the measure of his progress. By his very near approach to the Father of lighUy his mind received, as it were, the direct beams of the Eternal Fountain of illumination. In the light of these beams the truths of religion were distinctly perceived, and their relation readily traced. These irradiations from the throne of God not only contributed to the clearness of his perceptions, but imparted a kind of seraphic energy and quickness to his mental operations.
“Learning: has borne such fruit in other days On all her branches; pietjy has found Friends in the friends of soience, and true prayer Has flowed from, lips wet with Gastalian dews.”
Whitmore Winslow’s collegiate course was a constant and solemn recognition of this principle. Honouring God in child-like prayerful dependence upon His aid, God honoured him by conducting his studies to a successful and honourable result. Again he returned from the Examination HaU crowned with distinction. Of the men who went in for the Honour examination in Logics, 1856, he was classed second, attributing to a slight nervousness at the moment his not ranking first. In acknowledging our congratulations, he remarked that, ^’ to have made glad the heart, and to have won the approbation of his parents was a sufficient reward for all his toil.” Sow tme is God’s word — “The father of the righte<yus shall greatly rejoice: and he that hegetteth a wise child shall have joy of him. Thy father and thy mother shall he glad, and she thai bare thee shall rejoice,”
In his own success he found time to express a joyous sympathy with the like success of his relative. Writing to his cousin at Cambridge, he says: —
“Trinity College, Dublin,
*’ My deab Henry, — I have just received the Times from home, containing your name amongst the Honour Candidates, at which I am delighted, and proceed at once
to oflfer my congratulations, in which K joins. We
did not quite comprehend how far the ‘little go,’ which I presume is what you have gained, can determine the character of the degree in 1858. But we conclude it was some new arrangement, and that you would enlighten us more fully in due time, satisfied at present that all has gone for the best. ... I shall only get my degree two or three months before you, so that I may, perhaps, peep at you at Cambridge after it is over, for I should like to see a little of English University life, as I fancy it is very different from the kind of thing here. We have very little of ‘Esprit de corps,^ — nothing that binds the men together in a common bond. Evoi ls3kcl is independent to the last degree. It is conyenient ii many respects, but, perhaps, it has its disadvantages, in keeping men apart and unacquainted with one another.
Since you and S left me alone in my glory, I have
made more acquaintances among the men than before, and we have now a very pleasant choice of companions. I have also some excellent introductions to DuUm society, which makes me more in love with the pbea In fact, I think polished society — that is, where there is a mixture of ladies — is necessary above all things to a College student It takes off the sti&ess of solitaiy habits, at least I find it so. You must let me know, when you have leisure, a few of the particulars of Cambridge life, and what your prospects in the distance are. I am at present reading for honours in May, and am looking forward to the pleasure of re-crossing the Channel again in June, having had rather a long year of it. With kind love to you and every wish for your future success,
‘’I am your affectionate Cousin,
“J. Whitmore Winslow.”
It is not often that, in the pnrsnits of Uniyersity life, eminent spirituality of mind is found in close alliance with distinguished scholarship. We see no just reason why this should not be the case. B*eligion and Science are twin sisters, — mhj separate them? Happily, many noble exceptioiiB exist in other universities as in that to which the subject of this memorial belonged. Snbh an “UNIVERSITY PRAYER UNION.” 163
indiyidnal, though moving quietly and unobstruBiyely through his course, could not be lost amidst the many hundred students who crowded the halls of Trinity. The bright steady lustre of his holy life began noiselessly to diffase itself; and those who felt a union in ’ one Lord cmd m one faithy’ and who were looking forward to the sacred investiture of the Christian ministry as a common bond of sympathy, recognised him as a ^huming and a shimng h’-ght, and were wUling for a season to rejoice in his lighV
An association entitled “The Dublin University Prayer Union,” had been formed previous to his arrival, composed of many of the more spiritual and earnest men, graduates and undergraduates, drawn together for the cultivation of personal religion, for promoting social Christian fellowship, and for expressing a prayerful sympathy with those of their brethren who had quitted the University for distant fields of Christian labour. In its wider range of objects, it was designed to draw together the prayers of the pious students “for the success of the Missionary cause at home and abroad,” — thus forming a rallying-point for Evangelical missions. On each occasion of its meetings, twice a month, after reading the Scriptures, and prayer, a paper is read by a previously appointed member on some topic connected with the Missionary enterprise, which forms the basis of a conversational interchange of feelings and sentiments on the snbject.* Yarions prayers then follow, embracing as their specific topics of petition — The Chnrch of Christ at home and abroad — a devoted Ministry — the Members of the ‘Union ’ — personal piety, and any special objects that may claim the attention and sympathy of the brethren. As the first-froits of this * Union for prayer,’ two of its members are now engaged in foreign labour; another is about embarking in the same noble enterprise for distant lands; and others, it is hoped, are contemplating a similar consecration of themselves to the work of Christian missions. Such is the fruit of united prayer!
Such an Association as this is admirably adapted to meet an existing and alarming necessity in the Church of God. It must be the intelligent and solemn conviction of many Christians that one of the most serious and pressing wants of the Church at the present moment is — men. God, in the wonder workings of His providence, is opening doors, wide and effectual, for the introduction of
* At one of these meetings Whitmore read a paper on the “London Citj MiMion.”
the Gospel, until now almost hermetically sealed against the missionary. In view of these demands upon the increased zeal and labours of the Churchy oar yarions missionary organizations are contemplating a wider extension of their operations — seeking to strengthen positions already won from heathendom, and projecting new and yet wider invasions upon its far-spread and still-widening territory. They ask at the hands of the Church the men who shall become the almoners of their bounty. They demand the agents who may enter these new fields bearing the precious seed.’ In a word, they demand more Missionaries. But are they forthcoming? Who, from the candidates for the Christian ministry crowding our colleges, with ardent piety and glowing love and panting zeal, respond, “Here are we! send us?” Alas! the lamentation, as of old, still is, ‘Te harvest is great hut the lahov/rers are few,’ But how is this necessity to be met? Let every College in our Universities have its “Union for Prayer.” Let it form a rallying-point for those who feel that they are bought with a price, and are not their own. Let them weigh the claims of the heathen, ready to perish, upon their labours — the claims of Christ upon their talents — the claims of the Church of Christ upon their services, their love, their lives.
Let them challenge one another, and pledge themselves, each inqniring of his Divine Master, Lord what wilt Thou halve hb to dof* Oh, fat more sympathy for the perishing! Oh, for more love to Christ! Within the cloisters of his Univop* sity, and while reading hard for his senior wranglership, Henry Martyn fed the flame of love, that bore him with Christ’s Gospel to a heathen shore. Amidst classic toil and mathematical research, he nnrsed the fond hope of one day preaching the ‘fmsearchable riches of Christ ’ to the far-off idolaters. At the doors of the Universities the same Lord and Master is knocking, and asking, ‘Who will go for us? ’
Sympathising with every movement in the University designed to draw its members into closer intercourse, for the purpose of mutual advancement in religion and science, he consented to be enrolled a member of the ‘Undergraduate Philosophical Society,’ before which he read papers on “Napoleon,” “Greece,” and “The Elizabethan Age.” It was during his last vacation, and while absent from Dublin, the Society did him the honour of electing him as its President. He did not survive, however, to avail himself of the distinction. The circumstance was feelingly alluded to, and in appropriate terms, in the able introductory lecture of the gentleman who succeeded him to the office*
It was his privilege to make occasional excursions into the country, where he was frequently the guest of Christian Mends, the mention of whose names, were it proper, would shed lustre upon these pages. On one of these occasions, he addressed a Sunday gathering at a mansion on the Wicklow Hill, near the “Sugar-loaf Mountain,” from Luke x. 38 — 42: * Now it came to pasSf as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woma/n named Martha received Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary which also sat at Jesus feet, and heard His word. But Mo/rtha was cumbered about much serving, and came to Him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. And Jesus answered a/nd said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about mawy things: but one thing is needful: a/nd Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her,^ From the brief notes of his preparation for this little service which exist, we gather, that the leading points dwelt upon were — “The character of Martha, as illustrating the tendency of the human heart to bury itself in worldly objects, calling forth the gentle rebuke of Christ — ‘Thau art careful and troubled about marv things,* The character of Mary, sus presenting the picture of a lowly, earnest disciple, sitting at the feet of Jesus in the sweetness of dependence. * The one thing needful* as comprising the salvation of the soul.” The eflfort was extempore, and the whole scene, as described by those who witnessed it, was peculiarly impressive.
Of the few letters which are preserved, one is especially interesting and valuable, as unfolding his views, as a Christian, of a worldly recreation, which has, unhappily, found countenance in some religious circles — we refer to the subject of dancing. That the lawfulness and propriety of dancing, as a pastime of Christians, should find advocates and abettors among true believers, — that any should plead for and practise it, who solemnly professes to have separated themselves from the sinful enjoyments and vain pleasures of the world, renouncing them for the higher and holier joys of communion with God and conformity to Christ, is, indeed, a * wonder and a marvel.’ We do not think it trespassing on that charity which hopeth all things,* to venture upon the remark that no professing Christian can indulge in this friyolons, vain, worldly escapade without casting a deep shadow over the reality and sincerity of his religious character, by which he is professedly a new creature in Christ Jesits* If the religion of the crucified Redeemer does not quench in us a thirst for the world — moulding our spirit and conversation after the precepts and example of Christ — what has it in reality done for us? If dancing be a proper recreation, for Christians, a recreation in which they can indulge consistently with the precept,* Be not conformed to this world, hut he ye transformed in the spirit of your minds then where is the line of demarcation which God has drawn between the church and the world? Whitmore’s opinons on this subject, in reply to a question as to the propriety of a professing believer attending parties where dancing was introduced, are thus characteristically expressed: —
“I enter upon the consideration of the question you have so kindly and honestly propounded with the greatest pleasure. And while I highly esteem the confidence exhibited in any opinion I may venture to give, I must be allowed to treat the subject in ignorance of the circumstances which may have raised the question, and which are solely known to yourself. I shall have, therefore, to consider the subject in an abstract point of view, if you understand what I mean, so that it will be simply a matter of reasoning as to whether it be right for any
Christian whatever to frequent dancing parties. It will be for yourself and your own conscience to ascertain whether the case applies to you as an individual and a Christian. I have prayed that I might advance nothing but what is consistent with truth and Christian principle, and which may, with God’s blessing, lead you to see the matter aright You may not be aware that the act you speak of involves a great deal more than the act itself, and that one wrong first step may lead to innumerable inconsistencies and difficulties which would plunge you in subsequent repentant sorrow. You may plead in justification of the indulgence — and I perfectly admit the justness of the remark — that the old and the young stand in different positions from each other; that that which might appear out of character and ridiculous in one, would not assume the same light in another. The young have feelings in which the aged can have no share; and to make. the one entirely to harmonise with the other, would rob life of half its loveliness and charm. There must of necessity be a certain amount of elasticity in youth which will find vent for itself through some channel or other. Their hopes are light, their feelings are young and fresh, and they are annoyed that circumstances and restraints of any kind should place a check upon the full play of their constitutional tendencies and their youthful emotions.
“But they must not forget that they are just in the very condition in which it is dangerous to be free. Inexperienced as they are, they would rush into the first snare that lay temptingly at their feet; and, perhaps, soon would the dark silent tomb engulf their bodies.
HIS VIEWS ON DANcnra. 171
and another world receive their unprepared souLi. Such is the history of thousands of the world’s votaries; and it would be sad indeed if the young Christian’s life were modelled after theirs. If in youth he started in the same career with them — if his pleasure and theirs were the same — if they dance and he dances — if they pipe and he sings — is it not natural to conclude that, unless God’s power of grace interferes, the professing Christian’s end must be theirs T ‘Ye canfiot serve tico masters.* Our hearts must be God’s or the world’s. This is strictly Bible truth. *// any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him.* This may seem a hard saying, but it is true: we would, perhaps, often wish it otherwise, but it cannot be; and our hearts are not right if the love of the world, in any degree, seeks to supplant love to God. Now I do not think, as I have hinted, that we are to do one thing because there seems no particular harm in it, and to avoid another because it seems so palpably wicked; but our whole spirit should be so purified, that we should look upon it all alike; whatever we do, our hearts should be His who rightly owns them, and who bought us with His precious blood. If your motive for going to these dancing parties be a right and pure one, and if you think your soul will be benefited thereby, then by all means go. You reply that it is impossible that all our motives, in all our actions, can be entirely pure, and that it is equally impossible that we can be thoroughly holy in this world. Grant this; yet I ask, what is the difference between a Christian and au unconverted man, if it be not, the one aims to be holy and aims to love God; and in all that he does, acts upon principle and not from the promptings of fleshly desire; while the opposite is the case with the other? You see it is the principle in each which is the vital point, and the question with us is, are we guided by right or by wrong principle? If by right principle, then we may be sure we shall desire to do nothing that is contrary to that principle; but where the direct line is to be drawn, one cannot determine for another — it must be left to the individual himself and his own conscience. Youth, indeed, is a dangerous period of life, and Solomon solemnly admonishes us of that danger. ‘Rejoice, young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.^
“It is quite propable that dancing, as a mere lively exercise, may not aflfect the heart, though, even in this point of light, serious objections to the recreation might be alleged; but the whole character and tendency of the thing is what we are to look at. Many object to dancing, not only upon Christian grounds, but as being a thing wholly out of propriety j and it was undoubtedly so looked upon by the Greeks and Romans — whether the modern mode of conducting it be preferable I do not know. But with this we have nothing to do at present; the question is, is it suitable for a believer in Jesus? Now, in the first place, is not dancing a decidedly worldly amusement? Is not its whole character worldly? Do those who assemble to dance, either at balls or elsewhere, meet for any other purpose than frivolity and pleasure? Do they not mean something more than mere bodily exercise, which can any day be obtained by riding or walking? Is not spiritual or even intellectual profit wholly set aside? Moreover, are they not, in the majority of cases, unconverted persons, to say the least, and so the enemies of our Saviour? I think you cannot deny all this. Shall we, then, join with them in what they make a worldly amusement, whatever we may consider it to be? And whatever views we may hold upon the subject, will they not consider us as one of themselves, or deride the religion of Christ which allows its disciples to be so worldly? and thus shall we not go contrary to the Scripture precept which enjoins us to ’ avoid the appearance of evil,* and so bring disgrace on the religion of Jesus? Again, would it not exert a baneful influence upon our own minds, causing us to imbibe their spirit, concerning whom the inspired apostle says,’ And have nojellowshtp with the unfruitful works of darkness, hut rather rebuke thertC? Thus, too, should we not wilfully expose ourselves to sin while ‘pra.ymg,’ Lead us not into temptation*? I think if we consider these several points, we cannot but conclude that if it be not actually sinful to attend dancing parties it is yet wrong in its tendencies, and so inexpedient. St. Paul B&ys, ‘All things are lawful for me, but all things are not expedient; * meaning thereby that there may be many things which it were no sin to do, but which Christian character and position render better not to be done. You may, perhaps, think that I have passed too severe a judgment in the case, and my own heart would have dictated a much milder view, shrinking from inflicting the least unhappiness; but conscientiously
I could not have said less, but much more, if time and
space admitted, and which must be left for another
period.
“Whitmore.”
Happy if this solemn testimony, uttered as from the tomb, against a decidedly worldly recreation, engrafted upon the Christian profession of so many, may henceforth deter the young Christian reader from indulging in an amusement so fatally injurious to the promotion. of spirituality of mind, so incongruous with his solemn dedication to God, and so dishonouring to the name and religion of Christ.
We advert again to his journal: —
January 7th, 1856. Trinity College, Dublin. — What a wonderful fact is our growth — physical, intellectual, and moral! Who shall set bounds to it? Expansive and concentrative for ever and ever. We start with ignorance and feebleness, we advance in knowledge and power. It is a slow process, apparently, yet a deep one. It has taken some six thousand years or more to bring man to that bare approach to perf ectionment, which, with its delirium of conscious delight and conscious power, is somewhat intoxicating this nineteenth century. Here I am on the verge of twenty-one — the spring-tide of manhood — overlooking a world that counts centuries — bathing my intellect in streams, the very quinteaaence of human said divine thought, welling up from truth’s deep fount As deep as I can T drink; indifference and scorn for meaner things follow. Men with orthodox strait- waistcoats and bound around with conventionalisms now and then cross my path, and I am fain to regard them as men of bygone centuries, having got into this by mistake. Books I once thought full of the most precious thought, appear more like children’s books compared with others; then those others share the same fate and disappear as rapidly, and I pant and thirst for the higher and the better. Then the reflection arises. In what state am I? Am I going right or wrong? I look around and find others doing the same. I see them taming the elements of nature, bending her most awful and deadly powers to their sway. Continents and seas are as so much paper; thought is communicated in the twinkling of the eye. I find a strange sympathy with these men, and cannot help following them in their delvings into mysterieai My old simplicities of thought and feeling — so smooth and innocent, with scarce the ruffle of a wave — are put to the severest scrutiny and test. I tremble, and inquire what will come out of this fiery crucible T May Grod whom my soul loveth, from the conscious presence and feeling of His love to me, preserve me from the sin of pride! May He teach and guide ne. He gave me intellect and I must use it, and no man shall subject it to thraldom; but when He requires submission — as He alone will and on only true and holy grounds — may I yield it with all my heart, and soul, and spirit *The righteous shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands shcdl grow stronger and stronger,^
9 n” January 30^A. Trinity College Dublin, — ‘A man
walks eternally with beings congenial to himself.’ Yes,
and from all others he walks eternally away. The
deepest, finest, tenderest chords of his heart only vibrate
to a chord struck by a kindred spirit No foreign hand
can touch it; an alien sound will only force an alien
response — harsh and sad. Watch the delicate process
by which kindred spirits try each other. At first
I give a distant note! Has my brother gone so far?
I wait the echo, borne back from some neighbouring
height Quick and more quick, I give a clearer, fuller
note. My brother answers! Yes, we know the same
hill country, have breathed the same mountain air.
We know each other — are kindred spirits. I fear not
now, and touch the delicate ground, and lead him to my
private vineyard. He takes me to his — shows me his
precious, golden fruit I know it, value it — he honours
me and I love him. There is wealth between us. Oh,
this wondrous music world! This soul of harmony!
How sweet, how delicious, thrilling like a hundred
birds’ notes in the morning air, is the union of kindred
hearts. Each its own, and each the other’s, swelling
upwards to the world of mystery. O God, we are of
Thee!
“There is in souls a sympathy with soondB, Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touched within us, and the heart replies.”
There are, probably, few periods in a young man’s career in which friendly recognition, judicious counsel, and kind sympathy are moi’e needed and welcome than that which marks his University course. Buried withiD his college walls, in communion more with the dead than the living, the past than the present, severed from the refining and restraining influences of home, — assailed by temptations peculiar to college life, — often exhausted by hard reading and depressed by brooding thoughts, just at this critical period how timely and precious the outstretched hand of a real friend! A truth inculcated — an admonition given — a word of kindness dropped — an expression of sympathy offered — a little interest and affection shown, has ofben been the saving of a man. For the want of it many a University man has become a ‘shipwrecked brother’ — all his future embittered and beclouded in the absence of a loadstar like this. How many a Christian student, pining within his lonely cloisters, has sighed for friendship and sympathy. The University men of his day found such a teacher and friend in the late Charles Simeon. Probably few individuals ever swayed a moral influence over a University so wide and potent as this eminent divine. He was emphatically the student’s friend. They flocked to his church and crowded his rooms, earnestly seeking invitation, counsel, and prayer. How many a young man who went up to the University estaranged firom God, and left it a ‘’ new creature in Christ Jesos,” to cnltivate at home or abroad some portion of the Master* s vineyard, may attribute his conversion to Mr. Simeon’s faithful, affectionate labours, the records of the last day will alone show.
Such a friend the students of Trinity College find in the Ven. Archdeacon John Gregg. Himself a graduate of Dublin University, with a vivid recollection of his own need of Christian and friendly sympathy while passing through its trying ordeal, he knows the heart of a studeit, and is prepared to sympathise with its yearnings. Among his varied plans of benefiting the young men, a “students* class,” which assembles at his own house, forms a distinctive feature. At its meetings a paper is read bjf one of the number, upon which he bestows in appropriate and friendly criticism the results of his matured study and experience. Hints are suggested on the subject-matter, style, and delivery, which to the candidate for the Christian ministry must be invaluable. Opportunity is on these occasions afforded for judicious counsel, kind sympathy, and intercessory prayer. It would seem almost impossible to exaggerate the importance or over-estimate the value of such an
BEV. JOHN GREGO — STUDENTS* CLASS. 179
instnunentalitj. “Would that every university and college were alike favoured! To this class Whitmore Winslow was privileged to belong. Amongst his manuscripts are found two papers, which were read at the assemblage of the “students’ class,” one on the “Fall of Jerusalem,” and the other on the “Providence of God, as exhibited in preparing the way for the Reformation.” In addition to his private instructions the young men have the advantage of the Archdeacon’s pulpit teaching, which is occasionally dedicated especially to them. It is to two of those services that the following animated record refers. In his home letters Whitmore made particular reference to these discourses as having produced a powerful impression upon his own mind, and as having created a remarkable sensation in the University:
“Sunday f February Vlth, and February 2Ath, — Sermon to ‘Men,’ and to ‘Young Men,’ by the Rev. John Gregg. May I remember these days! I have been lifted above myself — above the common natures of every-day life — the Tiacks among men — to contemplate the master spirits of the world, the great, the holy men that lived in Palestine, Greece, Rome, England, and America; and lastly and chiefly, the one Perfect Man, the type of men — -the Son of God. In the preacher, in the man who exhorted, taking for his text 1 Cor.
xvi 13, ‘Quit you like men* I saw and felt — sufiiised into myself — the spirit of a true man, a great man. Erect and bold he stood — fire in his eye — majesty in his form^ivinity on his brow of thought, and living eloquence on his tongue — I could have wept with joy, I could have thundered with very admiration at this noblest work of God — a thinking, living, acting, speaking man. It was to men he spoke — a man to men — persuasion, exhortation, but above all, example — it must have fired the dullest, raised the meanest, energized the weakest, and inspired all with a hymn of praise, a gush of thanksgiving to Him who made man — breathed into man — Gloved man. O God, / thank Thee! May I be one of such — walk, live, think, and act worthy of Thee and of them!”
“From the last Sunday to this I have almost lived upon his discourse to ‘Young Men.’ Text, Titus ii. 6, * Young men exhort to he sober-minded* — sound of mind, healthy in principle, moderate in passion, discreet in action. It was the experience of one who had been a young man. He told his feelings then, — his want of sympathy, his strength of passion, his struggle to rise, his difficulties and temptations; all this and more in piercing language, touching the innermost soul, he uttered to hundreds of our college students. May I ever remember it!”
“T. C. D. April 21«^. — The world has had its excess of materialism, it is now to have its excess of spiritualism. When a good thing has gone to an extreme, men begin to protest against it, and ciy up
MB. GBEGG’S sermon TO YOUNG MEN. 181
something else, before overlooked. This is in its turn advanced to the front, and made to eclipse the other until some one protests against the exaggeration, and preaches up something else; or, it may be, seeks to restore the equilibrium of the two opposites, showing them in a more reflected light, and a truer bearing. Principles act and counteract and interact the wide world over, maintaining a wholesome activity, and preserving the golden mean of things.”
‘* April 26th, — I begrudge every hour, every moment that shuts out from me the presence of Grod; every labour whose acquired result savours of earth. I do not mean that this great thought can always shine into the soul — the thought of Grod’s presence — we are too gross for that. But I do mean that our time and attention are wasted if given to matters from which, from their materiality, we can extract nothing appertaining to the invisible and spiritual. ‘Meditate, centre your thoughts on things above,* is the spiritual command. 1 am getting happily to feel that the result of obedience to this precept is just this, — that so far from being discontented with things below, one gets to see more in them. The amount of gross impervious matter is lessened, so that the eye, becoming more spiritual and clear, can discern the electric fire that darts forth from beneath the soil, and seems the sacred fire of heaven. What know we of God, of life, if the stretch and bound of our horizon is a dead level? It was the noble saying of a heathen poet, ‘Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto.’ ‘I am a man; and nought that is human is foreign to myself.’ Advance one step further, and aay..
I am a son of God. I hold this uniyerse, rolling amid space with all its worlds, to he of EQm. I humbly thiik the little globe of water, too, that trickles from the brook is not so disregarded of its Maker as to escape His eye or be beyond His law — therefore it interests me.”
‘’April 20th. — I cannot think with some that the primary evidence of a Grod is from the material world; because it seems impossible, without having the idea of God, to make any comparison between Him and His works; and if any one will carefully examine and test the process in their own minds, when contemplating with hallowed enjoyment the beautiful face of nature, instinct with the Divine presence, they will give pre-eminence and priority to that glorious idea which alone can interpret nature, and lend to it a meaning which othei-wise it never would have. To tell me that a watch speaks of a watchmaker before I have any idea of the latter, is to take the whole thing for granted, and assert what can never be proved, because mankind could have no notion of a watch until they had not only the notion, but the actual knowledge and presence of a man. This is a matter of fact, it is the natural history of this process; to reverse it is to go upon a mere hypothesis that can never be put to the test I think, then, that the existence, beauty, harmony, and grandeur of nature, is corroborative proof, not primaiy evidence, that there is a €kpd.”
‘* May Ist. — I cannot get rid of my responsibility. It is an awful fact that stares me in the face every moment Not a thing I do, nor the way I do it, or when I do it but affects the whole issue. I am oppressed, overwhehned with this weight which attaches to me. I go to God, not to be relieved from my responsibility — that would be to deny Himself and His holy law — but to help me under the burden. I go to Him to take the matter out of my hands by giving me Himself. ^If God he for tut, who can be against us?^^^
“June h, — The sacred of the earth, the holy amongst men, seem ever to possess a spirit tuned to sympathy — powerful sympathy — with their dying fellows, rushing headlong to destruction and woe. This feeling is an induction from the Bible, as well as drawn from an observation of the life and character of men. If it be true that our humanity is debased and crushed — and most true it is — it were a thought, a spectacle, enough to draw tears of blood from every soul that so believes. The highest angel might stoop to shed his sacred tear on such an awful world. But have we never paused to reflect that if we as men can so feel for our fellow-man, and be willing to exhaust all the means in our power to avert his ruin, what must be the feeling, the compassion of a holy Grod, whose nature is love, and who has the power to do that which the highest will of man could never effect I Oh, brother, have faith in Grod! What avails the anguish of thy soul? ‘Shall not the Jvdge of all the earth do right? ‘And what in thy solemn moments thou feelest to be wrong, charge not to Him, but to thy limited vision — and keep thy faith intact.”
There are some minds — an order of mind — who shrink from all earthly beauty from a reserved or constrained fear that beneath there lies concealed a serpei or a thorn. They dare not surrender themselves to tl joyousness of the hour, when that hour invites, and whc their own nature is welling up from within, by reasc of a latent dread of gliding out of their propriety inl some glaring inconsistency. They carry about wil them, as one has expressed it, ’ some corpse of a memory that throws its cold shadow upon the scene of the hoi that would lull them to a Lethe of care.**
“Thy spirit can penetrate my soul, and my soul ca illumine the world.”
“That which thou art in the sight of God, that tho art, and nothing more! Watch against hypocrisy. L< not thine eyes be blinded by things seen to things in seen. All will vanish but thine interest in Jesus.”
Here we close his joamal. Enough has bee unveiled of his hidden life to show what hoi feelings and what precious gems of thought la concealed beneath a demeanour so quiet an retiring. Truly, his Hife was hid with Ohrist i God.’