1858–1863

“48 EusTON Square, Jane 18, 1858.

“My dear Andrew, — This week I am in deep but selfish sorrow, owing to the death of Mr. Pierce Seaman. A slight and painless illness ended in his exchanging this world for a better on Sabbath evening. He was in some respects my dearest and most congenial friend. Natural sciences, old books, the successive seasons, the shrines of our English worthies, — we went into everything much the same, and had many a delightful day together. With Christian Classics he helped me greatly, and I had always on hand a quantity of his rare old books. On Sabbath se’nnight I was at Eochester, preaching the funeral sermon of Dr. Jenkyn, late of Coward College, and last Sabbath I was at Glasgow, introducing to Free St. James’s our late Chinese missionary, Mr. James Johnston. Last Saturday I spent at Woodville, Morningside, with Miss M. “Wilson, and your old playfellow, her cousin, Henrietta. I have undertaken to compile a short memoir of Mr. James Wilson. He was a fine character, and I have got some nice materials. Preaching in Glasgow, some old Strathblanians came up to me after the service, — Walter Buchanan, James Wingate, and ‘Jimmy Graham,’ the weaver. This last I had not seen for thirty years.”

“London, Feb. 22, 1858.

“My dear William, — ... I sympathize with your enjoyment of Motley. It is the last big book I read through. It was in May ’56, when I had the luxury of a fortnight’s invalidism. It is a great mercy that I have never once been unable to get ready my monthly quota for the printer during these four years and upwards. Beforehand I could not have counted on such unbroken health.”

“London, Feb. 25, 1858. “To-day I have been writing articles for Prof. Fairbairn’s Biblical Dictionary, beginning at the beginning, tiU now I have nothing in my head but almonds and apples, aloes and algum- trees. My heart rather fails when I think of going through the whole alphabet.”

He contributed all the botanical articles in that important work.

“48 EusTON Squabe, May 1, 1858.

“My dear Andrew, — ... This winter has brought out a good many books, of which the rumour sometimes reaches me, but I have had no chance to read them — Froude’s History of Henry vilL (a vindication), Cardinal Wiseman’s Recollections of the last Four Popes, Hogg’s Life of Shelley, young Buckland’s Recreations in Natural History. But even my old refuge, the omnibus, is no longer a reading-room. I have to take into it proof-sheets, or old volumes of divinity, to read up for my Christian Classics. I have reached the silk- worm’s spinning stage — sheer straightforward production, with a farewell to all the earlier joys of feasting and digesting. This 1st of May reminds me of it pathetically, when we used to get back to the green pastures. I usually read thirty or forty volumes every summer.”

This season it became necessary that Mrs. Hamilton and one of the children should proceed to the baths at Spa for the benefit of their health, but his engagements at home rendered it impossible that he should accompany them. Mrs. Hamilton, in company with Mrs. M’Laren, a very affectionate friend, similarly situated with herseK, accomplished the journey in safety, took the baths with much benefit, and in due time returned. In the meantime the absence of his wife became the occasion of a very lively correspondence: —

‘•Clevedon, June 9, 1858, 4 p.m.

“My deaeest Annie, — Here I am in safety, without any particular incident. Very warm ride, till Somersetshire, where it is both bright and breezy. I hope it will be as good a day to-morrow. I shall be anxious to hear of your voyage, — for that is to my imagination the only disagreeable feature of the journey. I look upon this opportunity for you as a most kind and happy Providence.

“As an additional therapeutic influence, I would gladly have superadded my agreeable society, but as that cannot be, I shall keep you company in thought and good wishes and prayers. I know that you would have liked to have me to the bargain, but (with that exception) could there have been a nicer arrangement? Even the Passover was to be eaten with bitter herbs, and all our mercies here must have a small abatement; but our happiness, and a great deal of our duty to God — our piety — consists in being very thankful and hopeful and cheerful if, on the whole, we have more good than evil. There ’s a sermon without intending one.

“My beloved Annie, you will make me happy by enjoying yourself to the utmost. This is your business at Spa, to ride on donkeys, and drink iron, and wear a broad brim, and laugh as much as you can, and come back, you and Marisabel, as broad as you are long, and as brown as the iron baths themselves. The good Lord go with you, and keep you and your kind fellow-travellers in all your ways. — Your ever affectionate husband,

“James Hamilton.”

“48 EusTON Square, London,
June 15, 1858.

“Started on Friday morning at eight from Bristol for Edinburgh by way of Birmingham, and got to Alva Street at half-past ten, Nothing could exceed the radiance of summer life all along the route; white mounds and red of blossomed May; the golden laburnum lamps in their green pavilions. Then, close to the line a perfect snow of ox-eye daisies, or a long yellow flash of unbroken broom, with hay and bean-field whiffs ever and anon wafted in. Should this be my last summer on the earth, I think I could testify elsewhere that I had never in my day known it come so near to Paradise. On Saturday morning I

FUNEJiAL OF DR. BUNTING. 481

went out to Woodville, where Dr. Greville kindly came to meet me, and spent the day till lunch looking over dear James Wilson’s papers, and talldng with his niece and daughter. A very pleasant retreat is Woodville, with its shade and its singing birds, — a fit home for a naturalist.”

“48 EusTON Square, London,
June 23, 1858.

“Yesterday was Dr. Bunting’s funeral. It took place in the City Road Chapel, beside the graves of Wesley, Fletcher, Benson, Adam Clarke, Richard Watson, and all the renowned fathers of Wesleyan Methodism, among whom there was none greater than Jabez Bunting, — none who combined so well the preacher, the Christian statesman, and the man of God. It was a long service. One prayer occupied fifty minutes (even in Scotland I never knew anything to match it). But an address by Dr. Leifchild was very affecting. He is seventy-eight, and Dr. Bunting was eighty; and now the friendship of haK a century is dissolved for a little while — but only for a little. The most impressive part of the service was the singing of these two verses, —

‘0 that each in the day of his coming may say, “I have fought my way through; I have finished the work Thou didst give me to do.”

0 that each from his Lord may receive the glad word,

“Well and faithfully done!
Enter into My joy and sit down on My throne.” ’

I left this at half-past ten and was not home again till five. I should add that there was an excellent sketch of

2h the venerable worthy by Mr. Scott. The chapel was crowded. I hope William Bunting will write a life of his father. It would be a far worthier employment for a coming year or two, than those numberless good-natured services on which he disperses all his exquisite taste and great abilities. The writing long letters of comfort to inconsolable, because dyspeptic, correspondents; the editing of books for people who are anxious to publish without being able to write, inditing poems for albums, and all that sort of thing, by which the devil under false pretences cheats clever but kind-hearted men out of the time which was given them for serving God and their generation. I told him something of this yesterday, and he retorted by telling me that I was meant to be a preacher, and had gone aside into authorship. If I could persuade myself that I am as well adapted for speaking as writing, I would even yet abjure the press for the pulpit. But what with weakness, nervousness, an ungainly manner, and inability to rely on myself, I hardly think so.”

Somewhere about this date, while assisting him for a week or two in his ministry, and enjoying the hospitality of his house, I incidentally learned that he had paid a fee of five guineas to an American Professor of Elocution, and was diligently submitting to drill with the view of improving his articulation, and the modulation of his voice. One evening while we were engaged in conversation, at the ringing of the door-bell he suddenly started to his feet, and delivering his apology with a combination of look and gesture altogether peculiar to himself, — an earnest purpose underneath, and a child-like comic smile mantling over it, — tripped with a hop, step, and jump away to his lesson. Under cover of a lightsome, sparkling, humorous evolution he betook himseK to serious work, that, if it were possible, he might acquire, on one side, additional power to serve the Lord and edify his congregation.

Alas! it was an unequal conflict against a defect that lay in his constitution. It was a spirit at once consecrated and buoyant, contending against the weakness of his physical frame. Nor was it the case of a man who was blind to his own deficiency, because it was his own; he was well aware of the physical feebleness, but he did not fold his hands and yield to it as inevitable. He never took refuge in the sluggard’s plea. At a comparatively advanced age he went to school again with the humility as well as pliability of a little child, on the presentation of a dim possibility that his power of delivering a message to a large assembly might yet be somewhat increased.

In connexion with the lack of muscular power in those organs on which oratory mainly depends, it is interesting to notice his experience as recorded by himself, that he was always in a glow of happiness at his study on Saturday, — but that this brightness almost unifonnly gave way to a measure of despondency during the actual ministrations of the Sabbath. In the one department, he was strong; and the strong man, as usual, rejoiced in his strength; in the other department he was comparatively weak, and consequently was grieved with what he accounted partial failure. In mental resources and acquirements lie was possessed of great wealth; but in the capacity to utter his thoughts, with all the variation of tone and key which their nature required, yet so as to be throughly heard in a great edifice, he was far less gifted. In this department, accordingly, he was always pained by a conscious shortcoming from his own ideal. It is certain that lack of vocal force, and ready control over his intonations, largely detracted from the power and popularity of his preaching. It is the belief of the most intelligent observers that if his enunciation had been in force and fineness equal to that of some who were confessedly far behind him in mental gifts, he would have been one of the most attractive preachers of the day. In delicacy of conception, in the happy choice of idioms, in the command of striking and original imagery, and in the glow of evangelical fervour that pervaded all, he had few equals. These rare qualities, however, were shorn of half their strength, in as far as his public preaching was concerned, by the necessity under which he constantly lay of straining to make himself audible, by standing on his tip-toes, and throwing out his words in handfuls, if so be they might reach the far-distant aisles. If the muscles of his chest had been such as to enable him to stand solidly at ease, while his lips performed the task of articulation without the aid of auxiliary blasts from overinflated lungs, James Hamilton would certainly have been followed by greater crowds, and obtained access for his message to a wider and more varied circle. But we do not know what counter-balancing evil micjht have

J come in along with such external success. Although with all his prayers and pains this thorn was still left in the flesh, the grand compensation remained: “My grace is sufficient for thee; My strength is perfect in thy weakness.” What talents the Lord saw meet to bestow, he laid out with marvellous skill and diligence in the Giver’s service; and if some other talents were withheld, the Withholder knows why. He hath done all things well.

On the whole, James Hamilton, as a preacher, was to a large extent the reverse of the class whose delivery hides the defects and sets off the good qualities of commonplace thought; it was the thought, at once solid and sparkling, that caught and carried the audience away in a rush, in spite of a considerable tendency to jolting in the vocal vehicle that bore it.

TO HIS WIFE.

“48 EusTour Square, June 15, 1858. **... Coming in afterwards with Mr. Henderson of Claremont Chapel, he mentioned an instance of the usefulness of Life in Earnest, which I was very thankful to hear. When it first came out he was acquainted with a very clever young lady, a Miss G — , at K — in Ireland; but she was quite careless and thoughtless. She was a great reader of novels. Mr. Henderson asked her if she would not read a religious book, if he were to lend her one? She said, No, she could not read such books, they were so dulL He said that she was quite mistaken; that some of them contained a great deal of the poetry and description that she was so fond of; and he repeated

486 KEMINISCENCE OF A BRIGHT SEASON”.

to her two passages which he had committed to memory out of the first lecture in Life in Earnest. She said at once that if he would lend it, she would read that book. She did read it, and from one thing to another there came an entire change over her pursuits. She became a decided Christian, and is now married to a husband like-minded; she has written a number of attractive papers in Household Words and other periodicals.”

“4 Archery Villas, St. Leonard’s,
Sept. 1858.

“I can recollect the summer of 1826, with its profusion of sunshine and its long, long weeks of cloudless weather, drying up at last the burn at Strathblane, and leaving the trout in isolated pools to the mercy of the crows and schoolboys. Night after night we lay down independent of blankets; and morning after morning rose up relying on the returning of the sunshine. That season has made an indelible impression on my memory, and promises to be ’ a joy for ever.’ It was amidst its light and heat that the poetic temperament of Robert Pollok culminated, and that, little suspected by his prosaic neighbours, he was completing the Course of Time on the hills of his native Renfrewshire. This season has not been less wonderful. In the end of May and beginning of June there was a profusion of blossom such as I have never witnessed; and since then, with the occasional interruption of a refreshful shower, there has been no break in the brightness of the atmosphere, but the evenings have been so enchanting that it was a hardship to go to bed, and the mornings so dazzling that it seemed a sin to lie still. Even London felt the influence, and many a time I felt as if Euston Square were perfectly beautiful But it was our happiness to spend six weeks at Hadleigh; from the 15th of June to the 25th of July, and the last fortnight here. Towards this place I have always a homeward feeling, and Hadleigh was made unusually pleasant by the society of Mr, and Mrs. M’Laren, who, in kindness, intelligence, and congeniality of taste, are all that I could wish friends to be. And now that the wonderful spring has rushed into an autumn of unwonted profusion, with wife and children well, with health better than it has been for many years, and with some indications of a blessing on the ministry, I feel that, if I were now called away, it would be from the very zenith of earthly happiness. I can never hope to see a lovelier season than the summer now ended. I dare not ask for greater mercies than the Giver of all good is at this moment bestowing.

“My holiday has lasted forty days. Besides writing two sermons, I have prepared for the press two numbers of Christian Classics, a series of papers on the Psalms for the Sunday at Home, and new editions of the Royal Preacher and Emhlems from Eden. My reading has been of a very easy kind.”

The course of the devoted Sandeman on the mission field was short. His spirit brought and kept earth near to heaven while life lasted, and it pleased the Lord soon to blot out the little interval that remained, and take him altogether home. Dr. Hamilton writes to his sister: —

48 EusTON” Sqctaee, London-,
Oct. 6, 1858.

“My deak Mrs. Barbour, — Your beloved brother was so much, more a citizen of heaven than of earth, that I cannot think your feeling at his translation will be like the common kinds of sorrow. At least after the first consternation of the unlooked-for tidings, the prevailing feeling with myself was thankfulness for his abundant entrance into the glorious kingdom. I have hardly ever seen any one with whom it was more entirely ’ to live is Christ.’ Bright, happy, and full of love, his career seemed always to be * from strength still forward unto strength;’ and at the last stage of all it is delightful to know how entirely death was swallowed up in victory. No one could have his own affections less set on the things of earth, and yet no one drew more affection towards himself In his short stay here he gained all hearts. On the day that he went away he went down to the kitchen and took leave of the servants, spoke to them a few kind and earnest words, and gave each of them a book. They are still with us; and when at family worship on Monday morning I read the letter from Amoy, they all were weeping — children, servants, and all. To the little Christina (whom he would not baptize) he left a beautiful Bible, which is now very sacred. Mrs. Hamilton keeps it as he left it, in the papers addressed by his own hand. I hope the prayers will be answered which he offered for her. I do not think we can call the dispensation a dark one. He wished to serve Christ, and he is promoted to higher service than he hoped for; and he wished to benefit China; and the affecting circumstances of his death are likely to awaken more interest, and I would even expect are likely to draw out more missionaries, than any living appeal could have done. Even his dear and much-tried mother, towards whom so much sympathy now turns, — the Comforter will sustain her; and where the hope is so full of immortality, it is less of a separation than what took place when he set out from home two years ago. With affectionate regards to Mr. Barbour, and with many tender but pleasant memories of his last visit to London, I remain, dear Mrs. Barbour, most truly yours, James Hamilton.”

TO HIS WIFE.

“County {i.e., Railway) Hotel, Carlisle, Jan. 10, 1859. “Yesterday morning I got up at six, and finished a sermon on ‘Take no thought for the morrow.’ Having a very deep root of melancholy in my nature, I am fond of such subjects, for then I preach sermons useful to myself. With a most clear and joyful confidence in the wisdom and love of Him who ’ doeth all things well,’ I am constantly haunted with special anxieties or obscure misgivings and depressions. And so I feel sometimes the better for such a sermon as yesterday’s. Professor Leone Levi came to dinner (Mrs. Levi has lost her mother), and so did Dr. De la Porte from Swatow. After half-an-hour’s sleep I went and saw Mr. HiU, who has rallied a little; then came home and finished my lecture for the evening on China. Delivered it; had supper with Annie and her cousin; then to sleep. The incident of this day’s journey was a wonderful sunset. We had reached Kendal when it began. The mountains of Westmoreland and Cumberland were covered with clouds very solid and massivelooking; above was open sky, filmed over with flakes of vapour and fleecy stragglers. This upper portion was every tint of glory, from saffron to the rosiest red; below it looked as if immense pHes of snow were drenched with port wine, or some rich empurpling colour, which intensified as it receded from the centre of beauty, and became inky black to the northward.”

“WooDVTLLE, Edinburgh, Jan. 14, 1859.

“My deae Annie, — Yesterday I paid a good many visits, and heard Professor Aytoun give a lecture to his rhetoric class. The subject was ‘Virgil,’ and was one of the greatest treats I have ever enjoyed, reminding me, however, of ‘departed joys, departed never to return.’ But I need not grudge them. Classical enjoyments are not the greatest after all. In the evening there was a dinner-party here. Professor George Wilson, Professor Fraser and his wife, and a few others. But I had to leave them in the middle, and go and address a prayer-meeting on behalf of China at St. Luke’s.

“48 EusTON Square, Jan. 31, 1859.

“My dear Andrew, — My visit to Scotland was a short one. I left this on Monday, Jan. 10, spent Tuesday at Jardine Hall, Dumfries-shire (Sir Wm. Jardine’s), and the three following days at Woodville.

“I have just finished off a variety of little literary jobs, and to-day I begin James Wilson in earnest. After that I fondly hope to escape from further work of the kind for a long time to come. I am tired of task-work. What with the Presbyterian Messenger, Excelsior, and Christian Classics, I have had a monthly periodical in hand for the last eight years, and, superadded to my weekly preparations, it leaves no leisure for my dearly loved Dutch, and for books which I am burning to read.”

FROM DK. STEANE.

“Camberwell, July 5, 1859.

“Dear Dr. Hamilton, — What can I do to minister to your comfort next Lord’s day, when you are to preach for my colleague? Will you come and dine with us? Will you come after dinner and take a cup of tea? Will you like a quiet hour in my library before going to the pulpit? Will you bring Mrs. Hamilton with you, and afford us the pleasure of her company as well as of your own? Will you come and take a turn in my garden after the services of the day are over, and then a family meal, — of all meals on the Sabbath to me the most enjoyable, with a friend? When, let me speak it reverently, ’ the burden of the Lord ’ has been delivered, and the solemn responsibility has been discharged, however inadequately, the mind relaxes, and the heart dilates and becomes at once receptive and communicative, and so tries to give pleasure, and is sure to receive it. In short, only feel that for the occasion my house will be what my heart always is, ready and delighted to welcome you, and to render you any service in its owner’s power. We all unite in kindest regards to you both; and believe me, dear Dr. Hamilton, yours in Christian brotherhood, Edwaed Steane.

“P.5. — Let me allure you by just adding that ‘the Enghsh woman in America ’ will be my guest, and that I should rejoice, if you do not know each other already, that you should meet here.”

The project of acquiring and repairing Regent Square Church is ripening now: —

TO ME. WATSON.

“Baenakd’s Green, Great Malvern, Aug. 5, 1859. “My deae Eeiend, — I cannot tell you how much I am obliged to you for seeing Mr. Gibson on Monday, and bringing matters to a point. I was really coming to fear that we should need to spend another winter as we are; and it was with difficulty that I quelled an inward revolt and rebellion, and brought myseK to feel that I could acquiesce, if needful, in that most undesirable alternative. Perhaps I am to blame in not doing more personally to accelerate matters; but besides an anxiety to keep step with others, and not seem to outrun more cautious and deliberate brethren, I have felt (not this summer only, but all these eight years) a delicacy in urging forward a consummation in which my own comfort and advantage were so much concerned.”

“Barnard’s Green, Avgust 10, 1859.” My deae Feiend, — Whether or not I entered into an actual covenant with the Session not to preach during this holiday, I have erred on the safe side, and have refused very many applications. But there are two (or rather three) cases for which I incline to ask a dispensation: —

“1. Mr. Turner, whose little chapel we attend, a venerable man of God, who originated all the good that has been done in this neighbourhood, — his anniversary is in the end of this month, and he has begged a week-day sermon. Lady Pirie tells me his income is about £70 a year, and as a good deal of this depends on the anniversary, I would gladly help him if I could.

“2 and 3. Our friends the Gunns of Warminster (Mrs. Gunn was a Miss Wills) want us to visit them, and wish me to baptize a little Gunn, who is to be named after me. Now it would be very ungracious to refuse, and if I do this, I do not see how I can refuse a request from my old friends of the Bristol Tabernacle to preach the London Missionary Society sermon during that visit. I have a warm side to Bristol, where, in my early days, I met with much kindness, and where a goodly measure of the right spirit still survives from the days of Thorpe, Hall, and Eyland.

“Now you will see some of the fathers and brethren to-morrow evening. Beg of them to take the foregoing into their favourable consideration, and please to communicate the result, that I may relieve from their painful suspense my esteemed correspondents. — Beheve me, ever affectionately yours, J. Hamilton.”

“Baknabd’s Green, Great Malvern, August 13, 1859.” We usually draw off the water from the fish-tank with a syphon, which will be found under the tank. But if

Janet is not up to the manipulation of the syphon, it will be quite enough to ladle off with a cup or jug a pailful of water once a week, and replace it with fresh water. The carp and gold-fishes will eat fine crumbs of bread, but they will also make shift without them. The roach will be very thankful for a few flies. He is the only one who is afflicted with fierceness of appetite.

“Payson’s works will be a great acquisition, and if you will kindly forward them to Euston Square, I shall carry them off on the next occasion. It is a book I should like to possess, for from the feelings with which I read his Life five-and-twenty years ago, there is an interest in all he wrote. But those sermons which I have read are not so striking as one would have expected.”

“Barnaet)’s Green, August 15, 1859.” My deak Friend, — Our poor boy’s illness turns out (as I inwardly feared from the first) diphtheria of a very formidable kind. Yesterday we were obliged to remove the others to lodgings in the town, and although the fever is much abated, the state of the throat is very bad. We have a most kind medical attendant in Dr. Grindrod; it is a great comfort to have our own servants with us; another comfort to have Lady Pirie so near; but the greatest comfort of all is, that the dear child is in the hands of One who loves him better than ourselves. Although she has had nearly three days and nights of exertion without sleep, poor Annie holds out, — for she is held up. We have been enabled to give him completely up to God’s own wise and holy will, and through His own great mercy have been “MOSES, THE MAN OF GOD.” 495

kept from rebellious thoughts. At a time like this, His consolations are unspeakably precious.

“I know how much your own and dear Mrs. Watson’s hearts are with us, and that we shall have your prayers for help in time of need. — Your ever affectionate,

“J. Hamilton.”

To Mr. Arnot he writes on Sept. 16, 1859 : — “Towards Palestine I have no propension. I have read about it so much, and have seen it through so many eyes better than my own, that I should hope nothing from actual survey.”

“48 EusTON Square, Oct. 21, 1859.” My deak “William, — To-day we have been three weeks at home. I have begun a course of lectures on Sabbath evening on the History of Moses. This necessitates me to prepare two discourses; and as the lecture on Moses takes me three days to study, I find myself up to the fullpressure point.”

TO REV. H. M. GUNN.

“London, Kov. 7, 1859.

“My dear Me. Gunn, — Five weeks (including six Sabbaths) have fled away since we took leave of Wiltshire, with its breezy downs and its beloved friends. You will now have a little more leisure for your studies, without the daily interruption of your idle neighbours, and we try to console ourselves for our banishment back to town by thinking how the leaves will be falling on Coss-Heap, and how, by reason of these awful hurricanes, Shearwater will have ceased to be navigable. We have never spent a month more purely in recreation, or more pleasantly, and we neither wish nor hope for anything more dehghtful than the hoHday at Warminster.

“I have no doubt that your exegesis of ‘poor in spirit’ is right. What a boundless theme is that sermon! I remember in the Presbytery of Edinburgh some one objected to the discourse of a candidate for license that ‘it did not contain the Gospel;’ and old Dr. Gilchrist retorted, ‘I believe that if the Sermon on the Mount had been preached as a trial sermon before this Presbytery, it would have been rejected.’ But I suspect the real truth is that the Gospel was never absent when the Lord Jesus was present. We have verbal Gospels, like John iii. 16; and dramatic Gospels, like the Lord’s Supper; and there once was a living Gospel, the good- will of God incarnate in the person of His Son (John i. 17, 12, etc.) In other words, with His manifestation of the Divine disposition towards sinners, the greatest of Gospels was the Lord Jesus Himself; or in other words still, to this and all His sermons there was an evangelical element superadded in the mien and bearing of the Divinely-commissioned and benevolent Speaker. James Hamilton.”

“London, Feb. 13, 1860.

“My deak Me. Gunn, — ... You need not look out for my ’ reviews ’ in the Patriot. My literary eclipse is total. There is not even the faintest annulus of illuminated surface remaining; and I cannot tell what a luxury it is to relapse into this comparative leisure. To write two sermons a week I do not find oppressive, as I often did when I had in hand Excelsior and Christian Classics. I have even bought Opera Omnia Erasmi, in eleven folios, and begun to read it through.

“Henry Wills was interested in our live stock. He will be happy to hear that the parrakeets are pretty well. The dormouse escaped on Saturday se’nnight, but was found in a trap which I set for him this morning, alive but very hungry. The lizard lived on till the first of December, by which time flies had become exorbitantly dear. That evening, as he was taking a walk in the library, some one trod on his head and he died on the spot.”

“London, March 5, 1860. “My deab WiLLiAT^r, — ... Reading together (Annie and I) A Life for a Life, we were so much pleased with it, that I wrote a note thanking the writer, a thing which 1 never remember to have done before. I had a nice hearty note in return from Miss Mulock, saying that she was once a Regent Square hearer. I once met her at Mrs. Oliphant’s, but cannot recall her. I forget whether I told you that I had been guilty of the great extravagance of buying Erasmus (£7). But he is capital reading, and ’ cut and come again.’ The release from editorial labour makes me feel quite rich in leisure, and besides writing my two sermons a week (one always on the life and times of Moses), I do read a good deaL”

The Synod assembles in Sunderland this year: in an interval of business a winged messenger is despatched to carry a pleasant thought home: — “Sunderland, April 18, 1860.

“My deaeest Annie, — After four hours’ discussion, we have just got through the Foreign Mission Report, and so, being released for a few minutes, I devote them to you. Often, in the din of the debate, I take swifter wings than those of a dove, and find myself in my dear nest at home. T wish, too, that it were as natural to me to take these wings and fly away to another home, of which, although we have never yet been there, a good deal has been told us, and which will by and by be far dearer to us than Euston Square has ever been. “We are getting on very pleasantly. There has been no outbreak of temper or bad feeling.”

Early in 1860, measures were finally taken for bringing to an issue all questions relating to the tenure of the Church. At the period of the Disruption in 1843, a debt of £5000 was attached to the building. As a matter of course, the Session and Congregation made no effort to reduce this burden while any uncertainty remained regarding their title to the property. For a period of seventeen years this state of matters remained unchanged. At length, however, it became necessary to execute extensive repairs. But the same reason that withheld them from extinguishing the debt, withheld them also from repairing the fabric until it should be determined whether the property were legally their own. As the only method of solving the difficulty, the church was exposed to sale by the mortgagee, and bought for the congregation at a price not much greater than the amount of the encumbrance.^

1 The conditions of the trust-deed were very carefully fulfilled. Besides ad-Having secured an unchallengeable title, the congregation proceeded to repair and improve their much-loved churcL On examination, it was found that, owing to defects in the original construction of the roof, and a tendency to decay in the external surface of the towers, a much larger sum would be required than was at first contemplated. After many delays, the work was at length executed in the autumn of 1860. The cost, including the mortgage, £5000, and a handsome lecture-hall, £1000, amounted, inclusive of interest, to £14,083, 5s. 2d. The bulk of this sum was subscribed at the time, and the balance, through sundry efforts of zealous members, was finally cleared off in the close of 1864,

While the church was undergoing these extensive repairs the minister obtained a holiday. By medical advice, he spent it chiefly at German baths.

TO MR. WATSON

“HoMBURG, August 3, 1860.

“My DEAE Friend, — On Wednesday last, who should turn up at table-d’hote but Professor Miller! He ’ took stock’ of me after dinner, and pronounced me ready for Schwalbach, and, what I was sorry to hear, in need of it. As this implies my not getting home till the end of the month, I was scarcely inclined to acquiesce, especially as we are most comfortably settled here, and had planned to

vertisements of the intended sale in the newspapers, notices were sent to the Moderator and Clerk of the General Assembly, and to Dr. John Gumming of London. The fullest opportunity was given to the authorities of the Established Church to come forward and pay the mortgagee. If they had chosen to do so, in all probability their claim to the property would not have been resisted.

return with my brother on this day fortnight. However, yesterday I went into Frankfort to consult Dr. Spiess, the most famous physician in Germany. I found him what I was prepared to expect, a solid and masterly man, with quick, keen insight, and great good sense; and in a few minutes he pronounced for Schwalbach. This is what Dr. Williams recommended before I came away; but I hoped that after this fortnight at Homburg I should need nothing else. Now, however, there seems no help for it. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound.’

“Professor Miller’s company is itself an immense attraction.

“As we were cheated out of Mr. Noel’s services last Sabbath, we got up a sermon on Wednesday evening, his last evening here, and had an overflowing congregation. The address was delightful, — quiet, and conversational, on the woman with the alabaster box of ointment”

He was captivated by Professor Miller: they were kindred spirits. That beloved physician, too, has been early taken away from a world that seemed to need him. With Professor Miller and Baptist Noel and James Hamilton, besides “honourable women not a few,” the English community at Homburg that season were favoured with some choice Christian society.

“Langenschwalbach,
Black Bartholomew’s Day, Aug. 24, 1860.

“My dear William, — .,. Our own plan was to go on Monday next; but Professor Miller is so peremptory for another week, that I suppose we must remain till

Monday, Sept. 3. On Friday we forgathered with Professor Blackie, who had that day finished his translation of Homer. He took us up to his sanctum, and read a specimen, which I thought remarkably fine. It is in fourteen syllabic lines, a sort of ballad metre. Then leaving Andrew to be picked up by the Wiesbaden Diligence, we came home again.

“On Friday our colony received an accession in Mr. and Mrs. Main from Edinburgh. Yesterday we had a flying visit from your friend James Crawford and his wife, and yesterday I went with Lord Panmure and his ladies a picnic to Eauenthal, whence a magnificent view of the Pthine. These are nearly all the incidents since that saddest one of your own departure. We drink every morning, sleep every noon, table-cChdte at the Allee SaaJ, — except to-day, when we made a capital dinner for 25 kreuzers apiece at the ‘Eestauration,’ and this evening, as once before, we take tea with the Lady Emma. Cold and rainy as the weather is, I almost wish that I were asain safe amongst the books and coals of London. And you are thankful to be again at Stonehouse.”

The renovated church was opened on a week-day by Dr. Guthrie, and Dr. Hamilton preached on the following Sabbath, 21st October 1860. Before sermon, and in connexion with the text. Judges vii. 1 8, he delivered a stirring address. We give it in full from his manuscript: —

“There is great power in a battle-cry well chosen and well worded. ‘Soldiers, from the top of these pyramids forty centuries look down upon you! ’ said Napoleon to his troops on the eve of conflict in Egypt, and this appeal to a cloud of witnesses was the very thing to rouse the fiery and glory-loving sons of France. But not more powerful than the watchword which Gideon gave to his three hundred patriots, a band as devoted as the three hundred at Thermopylse; and which, revived not long ago with its double element of patriotism and piety, thrilled the ironsides of Cromwell — ‘The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!’

“In recent times no saying of the sort has been so successful as the last appeal of our great naval hero. It was on the 21st of October 1805 (fifty-five years ago this very day) that the battle of Trafalgar was fought. After a two years’ hunt, Nelson that morning overtook the fleets of France and Spain, and, never thinking of his inferior numbers, hung out the watchword, ‘England expects every man to do his duty.’ The signal was answered with acclamations all along the line, and before the sun went down that enormous armament was annihilated, and it became no bootless boast, what another great sea-captain had said not long before in reply to the question, ‘But will the French not come to England? ’ ‘At all events they cannot come by sea! ’

“Nelson’s watchword was eminently successful; but it could not have succeeded unless there had been something responsive in the men to whom it spoke. Perhaps it would have failed with Napoleon’s guards beneath the Pyramids; assuredly Napoleon’s sentiment would have failed with Nelson’s tars. But it is a fine thing to know that even in that rough and regardless time, in the days of press-gangs, and soon after a frightful mutiny, there was love of country, there was fear of God sufficient to make a challenge like this the key-note of conquest. I say ’ love of country,’ for the first word was ‘England; ’ and ’ fear of God,’ for the last word was ’ duty.’

“On such an anniversary, and on the Sabbath after such a sermon as we heard last Wednesday, I hope it is not out of place to recall these memorable words. They are eminently Protestant and British. They recognise that great principle of individual responsibility which makes every man stand alone, and strictly accountable; they appeal to that Anglo-Saxon energy which performs its own part without looking round to see what others are doing. And although we devoutly pray that such scenes of carnage may never come again, long may such words convey the essence of the Englishman! Long may they resound in the bloodless battles which it is our lot to be daily fighting!

“Every man, every member of the Church, in our own case the twice three hundred who are enrolled beneath the banner of the Prince of Peace, the Church expects every one to do his duty, and so expects the Church’s glorious Head. Do it in the way of preventing evil, as well as in the way of doing good. Do it by speaking the word in season to those who come near you. Do it by sending the missionary to those whom you yourselves cannot reach. Do it in ruling your own spirit, and spare a little to help those who are battling with the sins that beset them. Do it, scholar, in thy study; do it, preacher, in thy pulpit; do it, Martha, in the kitchen; do it, good work and honest, Simon in the tan-pit, Aquila in the tentmaker’s yard. Do it, even although there is no one to see. Do it, even although others should not do theirs. Do it, even although there be danger in the doing. Do it, for if there be danger in the doing, there is more danger in the neglect. Do it, though there is no one to see; for even when onlookers are most numerous, the chief spectator is invisible, and when no one else is visible, He still is present. Do it, even although others should not do theirs; for if at first it seems a hardship, it is the highest honour not only to fulfil your own, but to supply the lack of other’s service.”

“48 EtrsTON Square, Jan. 3, 1861.

“My dear William, — ... Your own is a cheering letter, with its accounts of yourselves and of the continued good work in Stonehouse. I am only sorry that blankets are not more abundant in the village. Please to lay out £2 of the enclosed on these ’ compliments of the season,’ and will you either give £1 to each of the children with my ‘Happy New Year,’ or expend it in a way that may approve itself to parental wisdom.

“The renovated church is a great success. Nothing can be more beautiful, and it is extremely comfortable, and quite as good for hearing as so large a place could be. The standing at Psalms has improved the singing. There is a great increase in the attendance, but the communion roll is almost the same as in ’69, — being then 612, and now 617.

“Carlyle’s biography is both amusing and horrible; but it lifts the veil, and will leave posterity in no manner of “a whip for the indolent,” 505

doubt as to the intrinsic character of the moderate party during the last half of last century. George Wilson’s life I have read with interest, from having known himself; but I fear it is too long for the general reader. My teeth now water for Motley’s new volumes; but I must leave them over till next week. His daughters — the oldest, a fine intelligent girl — used to attend Regent Square last winter along with Miss Anderson’s pupils. You perceive on what recTiercM paper I write. Having to inscribe the above some two or three thousand times a year, I thought it would be a great saving to have it printed. I begin the year with four reams or 1920 sheets of it, and will see how long it lasts. I am wonderfully diligent, entirely pastoral, seldom preaching week-day sermons, never out of my own pulpit since October, resolutely refusing all applications to write for the press, even your friend of Pilrig’s entreaty to review Motley in the I^^orth British.

Dr. Wilson of the Free Church Mission Institute, Bombay, in a letter of date 14th August 1860, after commending to his notice a young Oriental about to settle in London, says, “When I was in Raj putana some months ago, I found on sale at the Government Education Depot a tract in Urdu (Hindustani, as spoken by the Mussulmans), in which you may feel some interest, as it is a translation from Life in Earnest. I send a copy of it by Mr. Eyan.” And here it is in characters very uncouth to occidental eyes, but with an alternative title, considerately given in English, “A Whip for the Indolent,” extracted and translated from Life in Earnest, by Babu Siraprasad.

There must be something remarkable in that religious teaching which is originally addressed to a congregation in London, and is reproduced by one of themselves for the use of Mussulmans in the interior of India.

“48 EusTON Square, March 15, 1861.

“My dear William, — Yesterday Mr. Adams called and brought bad accounts from the African squadron, in which James (his cousin’s son) of Beddington has been for two years. It seems that the Mandingoes — a set of warlike Africans — had been attacking our settlement on the Gambia, and the ‘Arrogant,’ with one or two other ships, sailed up the Gambia to put down the disturbance. 3000 Mandingoes with 900 Arab cavalry had entrenched themselves in stockades — a sort of rampart against which cannon are almost useless, being beams or trunks of trees driven into the ground, and wattled together with green branches, through which balls pass freely, and which cannot be burned. Against this stockade James was leading on a storming party of sixty sailors, waving his sword with one hand and holding a revolver in the other. They must have seen that he was an oflS.cer, and taken good aim, for he fell with three bullets through the heart. The stockade was taken with the destruction of some hundreds of its defenders, but poor James lies there in his soldier’s grave beneath the tropic.”

“London, June 12, 1861.

“My dear William, — ... A few weeks ago Uncle Thomas called and gave me £1000 of Great Northern Preference Stock, which he intended for poor James; and he said that he meant to give the same amount to you. The only sad thing about it is, that he for whom it was originally intended * is not.’ It is a wonderful accession of wealth, and will in many ways be useful.”

“Jan. 1, 1862. — Of four reams of note-paper laid in on last New Year’s Day, there now remains a single quire, indicating (official documents and foreign correspondence inclusive) about 2000 letters for the year. These letters take more time than all my sermons and lectures. Since I last wrote in this book, we have altered and re- opened Regent Square Church. The cost was more than £13,000, but both the congregation and friends contributed so largely that we are only £2000 in debt. Mr. Gillespie, Mr. Thomson, Mr. Duncan gave £500 or upwards each, and very memorable have been the services of Mr. Petrie as treasurer, and Mr. Watson as secretary of the acting building committee. The new church was opened by Dr. Guthrie, October 1860; and, with its commodious pews and capital ventilation, is as comfortable as a large building can be. We have just revised our communion rolL Although we have added 108 members during the year, the increase is only eight actually, making our regular communicants 625 in all During last year I officiated eighty-one times in Regent Square, and gave fifty sermons or lectures elsewhere.”

In the congregational report, 1862, when a ministry of twenty-one years had been accomplished amongst them, the office-bearers introduced an affectionate tribute to his worth. Those annual reports are models of succinctness and fulness. The compilers brought high business talent to the management of congregational affairs. They did not often or Kghtly scatter eulogies. When on this one occasion they broke through restraint, and praised him in his presence, it is due to all parties that some of the leading paragraphs should have a place in this record: —

“We have left until last, not because it is least, a point in our history the most interesting of the year. On the 25th of July last, our much-loving and much-beloved minister completed his ministerial majority in this place. On that day, twenty-one years ago, he preached his first sermon as our minister. Under his ministry, your gifts, in collections and through our congregational association, exclusive of the building fund, exceed in amount £27,000; the building fund sums to £12,000 more. Such an unbroken ministry is not a frequent occurrence, and the liberality which it has drawn forth may fairly compare with what has been seen in the most fruitful soils. The fruits that cannot be marshalled in arithmetical columns we must leave to be unfolded in the great day of account. We give thanks both for that ministry and for its fruits. But if you have given much, you have also received much. How shall we speak of such a ministry as we have had the rare privilege of enjoying for one-and-twenty years, in terms that shall be at once adequate and within bounds? Viewing the presidency under which we are convened this night, we are restrained, by obvious reasons, from saying all that we might say in other audience. But while restrained from saying all, shall we say nothing?...

“We must ask his loving nature to bear with us even in this. We honour ourselves by rendering appropriate homage to a mind so rarely endowed with gifts and graces; to a man pervaded by so excellent a spirit as is found in him; to a life so much in earnest, and so winsome, of which so large a part has been spent with ourselves; to so living and loving an epistle, so capable of wooing us to the Saviour; to a mind so fully furnished with knowledge, so capable of transmuting into gold — beyond the dreams of alchemy — whatsoever it touches; so capable of impressing every fact, and almost every fancy, into his Master’s service. Let us rejoice that a mind so sanctified, and so fully charged with things new and old — so capable of compelling tributaries from almost every region to illustrate and enforce the truth, was led to devote itself to the ministry of the Gospel Let our prayers for his continued health and success in his Master’s work be unceasing. Let us rejoice in his ministrations here; and give thanks for the Christian authorship with which our language and the world is by him enriched. Ever drawing lessons for us from the Great Biography, he has this year added one more to the number, fitting sequence to the theme suggested by the night on the Mount of Olives — A Morning by the Lake of Galilee.”

“LoKDON, Jvly 7, 1862.

“My dear Mr. Davidson, — Our friends in River Terrace Session are afraid that you have been somewhat discouraged by representations as to that field of labour, and have asked me to write to you my candid opinion regarding it. Now I will not be so Quixotic as to say that I prefer River Terrace to all the Presbyterian localities in London, but as a locality I think it is next to Regent Square. Islington abounds in Scotchmen, and now that Dr. Edmond is moving off as far as Highbury, the field is left almost entirely to yourself. From what I know of the neighbourhood and of yourself, I know no reason why you should not have next year a large and flourishing congregation gathered round you. I own that the long vacancy has tended to scatter the people, but they are not far away, they are not alienated, and they will be easily brought back again. Then the church is free of debt. There is an excellent Sabbath-school; and altogether, unless you give it the coup de grace by declining this call, there are few of our churches which have better prospects than River Terrace. If you can keep up your own resolution, in the trying circumstances, of parting with your present flock, and so keep up the spirits of the people in Islington, you will find a great door and effectual open, and will, I am sure, have no reason to regret the translation, — Believe me, most truly yours,

“James Hamilton.”

Mr. Davidson complied with this advice, and has never had any cause to regret it. His ministry at Islington is in the best sense successful

“NoRTHAW, ly Barnet, Aug. 19, 1862.

“My deae William, — ... Cases like are deplorable. There should be some self-acting machinery for suppressing congregations or suspending ministers when they sink so low. lye have such cases in England forced upon us by worthy men, sometimes wealthy, but they are at once the suckers of our substance and a scandal to our cause.”

This short extract contains a very weighty thought. It behoves all self-supporting Presbyterian churches to ponder it well. A lack of power to deal authoritatively with cases of failure through some incapacitating peculiarity of the minister, threatens to check the progress of churches that are otherwise evangelical, vigorous, and free. A few examples of a ministry that is incapable, with possibly here and there one that is chronically discreditable, while the Church courts stand idly by, without the will or the power to remedy the wrong, do more to damage the Church at large than all the arguments of its adversaries. It is essential at this day to show before the world that Presbytery does not consist in allowing every man to do as he likes — to show that it is a real government.

FEOM THE EEV, J. D. BUKNS.

“Hampstead, Dec. 18, 1862.

“My dear Dr. Hamilton, — Let me thank you very warmly for your kind and acceptable gift. For the donor’s sake, as well as for its own, it will take its place, not only on my shelves, but in a more exclusive shrine, side by side with the Mount of Olives. And I believe that numberless hearts to whom that book has ministered help, guidance, and comfort will feel that you have henceforward thrown the same sweet and hallowed charm around the Lake of Galilee. It will always have to me a pleasant association of a personal kind with the first Sabbath service in our new church; nor could I have desired a better consecration of our sanctuary to the service of the Gospel than in words of the loving evangelist, or rather words of Him who loved him, so touchingly and wisely expounded. May that ever be the spirit of all the ministrations within its walls. You have given me a more selfish motive for liking the book, by honouring some poor verses of mine with a place in it. On the principle of laudari a laudato, I cannot but be gratified; and I assure you in all seriousness that I never admired the lines till I saw them so finely set, — preserved, too, for future times, like a fly in amber. Believe me, with heartfelt acknowledgments, yours most sincerely,

“James D. Burns.”

Alas! in writing these familiar names the biographer feels as if he were walking through a churchyard and counting the tombstones! James Burns, a true poet and an able minister of Christ, writes a note of polished praise to his brother minister and brother author, James Hamilton. Burns is called away first; Hamilton survives him long enough to compose his Memoirs, portions written during the lassitude of his last illness; and himself called away before the book reaches the press. The Memoir of Burns by Hamilton is a posthumous publication; it appeared after the grave had closed on its author.

At Manchester, in 1863, the Synod adopted a general scheme, suggested by Mr. Robert Lockhart of Liverpool, a zealous and liberal elder, for extinguishing the debt on existing ecclesiastical edifices, and of extending the Church in new fields. It was proposed to raise £25,000 by subscription, to be employed as a central fund, at once to aid individual congregations, and to stimulate their own liberality. Not long after its origin. Dr. Hamilton undertook the superintendence of this scheme, as convener of the committee, on condition that Mr. William Ferguson of Liverpool should consent to be treasurer. Induced by the double motive, zeal for the cause and great personal afiection for the convener, Mr. Ferguson undertook the task. Thus encouraged, and set free for a time by his Presbytery from his own pastoral work, Dr. Hamilton threw himself into the effort with all his heart. A series of sermons was preached, and a series of meetings held in Liverpool in June of the same year; and the Presbyterians of the great sea-port, aided by friends and neighbours, inaugurated the movement by a subscription of £7500.

It was an arduous undertaking, but it was successfully carried through. After the successful commencement in Liverpool, a meeting was held in London 15th March 1864, under the presidency of the Earl of Dalhousie, at which Dr. Hamilton gave an eloquent exposition of the plan. The conclusion of his address contained some most cheering announcements, — “Liverpool has already subscribed £7500, and in Sunderland, Newcastle, North and South Shields, at least £2500 more had been promised. They had hoped to have with them this evening Mr. H. M. Matheson, and they all lamented the cause of his absence,

2 K whilst they rejoiced that he was already getting better. But he was prepared to give to the Synod’s fund what the Prince of Wales had given to the Bishop of London’s fund. Here is his promise of a thousand pounds. Failing Mr. Matheson, we asked Mr. Barbour of Bolesworth, who has long been himself a central fund to the Church, to come and support our noble chairman. Here is his letter, regretting that he cannot so soon return to town, but intimating his intention of also subscribing a thousand pounds.”

The fund was so managed that in the course of the next four years it had drawn forth local contributions more than three times its own amount for the extinction of debt, and the erection of new churches. In this denominational effort the character of Dr. Hamilton was of great service to the Church at large. Among the members there were resources and zeal sufficient to make the needful contribution, but it was necessary that they should all unite; and in order to such union it was necessary that they should all have confidence; and in order to confidence it was necessary that there should be one at the head of the organization whom all could implicitly trust. His bright, hopeful way, too, in the actual conduct of affairs, went far to keep up the spirits of his coadjutors, and carry them through. In the conduct of this enterprise he showed himself as well qualified for practical business as for the departments of the scholar and the theologian. The sphere of his rifts was broad and varied.