In India, 1854–1857

HE took, as we have seen, a very warm interest in all missionary work; and associated himself lovingly

with missionaries of different churches. ‘To work for God, to gather in souls, and to keep himself unspotted from the world, was his aim. He was ‘debtor’ to all; he knew it;: he had gone to India to pay that great debt; and in his daily life there he showed his sense of how much he owed. Our Free Church Institution he visited every Monday, often going to it when weary enough with his Sabbath work and the Indian heat. He had a class there, with which he went through the Epistle to the Ephesians, and some other parts of Scripture: On two occasions he wrote to the then Governor-General, Lord Dalhousie, and obtained handsome donations for the Institution. He wrote afterwards to Lady Canning, who responded to his application by sending one of the Government secretaries to inspect Mrs. Ewart’s school for Jewish and Armenian girls, then under Miss Johnstone’s care, and was so pleased with his report that she sent a contribution from herself, In his correspondence with friends up the country, he often urged, and not in vain, the claims of the Free Church Institution and of the Orphanage.

He had regular engagements for almost every day of the week. On Monday evenings he met with some pious soldiers in the fort for reading and prayer. On Wednesday evenings there was the regular congregational prayer-meeting. On Friday mornings he had a Bible reading at his own house; and the evening of that day was devoted to young men; on alternate weeks for natives and for the young men of the congregation. Frequently, on Thursday evenings, he preached to the sailors. On Saturday mornings he had a young ladies’ Bible class. All this was in addition to visiting his congregation, the jail, the hospitals, the ships, and every place or person that was accessible; especially in cases of sickness and distress. He kept up a large correspondence with Free Churchmen all over India,1 not only by letter, but by the transmission of

1J should add, not only with Free Churchmen, but with all who loved the Lord Jesus of every church. Referring to the Memorials of Yohn Mackintosh, and his views as to other churches, he says in one of his Indian journals, ‘I like his liberality and charity.’ ‘Liberality’ was not with Mr. Milne a word indicating facility in believing anything or nothing; nor indicating dislike of those who believe or disbelieve very earnestly, and who attach great importance to what they believe; nor yet indicating sympathy with every form of opinion or religion: it was to him equivalent with love to all who truly love the Lord. His large-heartedness did not consist in assuming everybody to be right; or in thinking that believed truth and believed error are equally acceptable to God; or in holding it to be a hard thing that one man should be saved for believing what is true, and another lost for not believing it. His liberality was true and deep; and yet it was in thorough accord with the mind of Him who said, ‘Strait is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth to life; and FEW THERE BE THAT FIND Iz

J tracts and periodicals regularly. He used to compare his work in Calcutta to that of a man standing in a gateway, and speaking to all who went in and out. They and he might never meet again; but the word spoken might be remembered for ever. This ‘sowing beside all waters’ was one of the most remarkable features of his Christian life. He never seemed to be weary in well-doing. He did not sow sparingly, and he did not reap sparingly (2 Cor. ix. 6); nor is his harvest yet over.

In letters to a friend in Perth about this time, he speaks of the hindrances and difficulties which arose from the climate, and the native habits, and the shifting population. And he adds: ‘ How desirable it is that Christians should be lively, consistent, holy, manifest fearers and honourers of the Lord! We are surrounded by native servants night and day, and they mark closely all our on-goings. I am learning many things from observing these poor people, and am determined, through God’s help, to do all for them I can.? Poor things! they would do anything for us.’ He seems never to have looked upon the natives, whether indoors or out of doors, without being stirred to pity. And

‘In September 1855, he writes: ‘I have sent away this week between thirty and forty packets, besides various chi¢s (notes) and letters to many parts of this Indian land.’ Again: ‘ October 1855. Went to the post-office with a huge bundle of letters and papers I was sending in all directions.’

*? While living in a boarding-house (September 1855) in Calcutta, one Sabbath morning, some native carpenters began erecting a small house in the compound or yard. Mr. M. wrote at once to the landlady: ‘Don’t you think it wrong that the men should work on Sabbath? But perhaps you have not power to stop them,’ — enclosing the tract, ‘The price of a Soul.’ Immediately the work was stopped.

he goes on to say: ‘I rather like to see them moving about, in the spotless white dresses; and sometimes wish they were as white within. If they were as careful to please the Lord as they are to serve and please us, watching night and day, and anticipating every wish, they would be a noble and happy people.’ Feeling the responsibility of his position, he asks for special prayer in his behalf. ‘ Pray for me, that I may be blessed in preaching and visiting the flock; in my classes; in intercourse with strangers passing up and down; in visiting the various institutions; and in intercourse with the missionaries. You see the large, important field that is here; and you know, when your prayers make me a full vessel, we shall, ere long, rejoice together.’ In some other letters he asks with pointed earnestness, ‘What is to be done for India? Mediocrity, dull routine, cold formality among Christians, and a powerless, apathetic native Christianity make me almost despair. Alas! our young men seem to be among the best, and yet how little can we expect from them in the way of evangelizing the land! Only faith, fervour, burning love to souls, and large, generous, self-denying enterprise can do anything for such a land; and where are they to be found?’ He then goes on, in the intensity of fervent zeal: ‘ My heart is sad, yet not dismayed; but rather indignant and jealous. Where is the Esther who will go in and touch the golden sceptre? I cannot help thinking that, if there were one real revival, it might lift the standard up and give a new aim and impulse. Let us keep this in view; for unless the Lord plead His own cause, I cannot see what is to be the end. Poor India! What is to become of it? There is no zeal,

232 IFE OF REV. ¥OHN MILNE.

no enterprise; but everywhere death, lukewarmness, and worldliness.’:

He writes, in July 1855, thus: ‘Sometimes I fear that the curse of God lies on this poor land. There seem to be so few generous, large-hearted souls to care for it. I suppose the Lord is shutting us up to Himself. Reading Isaiah xlv. at worship, I felt for the moment how easily He could remove all difficulties out of the way. “J will work.” I suppose I shall end by looking for the coming of the Lord Himself to end the Church’s long, selfish sleep.’

A little later he writes: ‘ How little I habitually live as one who is redeemed, accepted, beloved, a citizen of heaven, a friend and follower of Jesus; and how I try to get joy, and find instead only care and sorrow from the world around, when I might get every good and perfect gift from the world above!’ And again: ‘ Why should we not feel so warm in the love of God, that we should not be sensible of the coldness and unkindness of men? Why should we not be so strong and confident in His help, that we should not be much concerned though men stand aloof or oppose? Why should we not be so filled with the earnests of coming glory, that we should not much mind the crooks and holes in our worldly lot?’! In an-

‘ Of this date is the following sentence, so expressive of the man, reminding us of Paul’s ‘ This one thing I do.’ It is a word for all, especially for ministers. ‘ Let us try to say something to every ome we meet, IL have been trying it to-day.’ When in London, among some Government officials, he astonished them by speaking personally to them about eternity, especially one venerable gentleman, who, not at all offended, simply made the remark, ‘I was never spoken to in that mo

other letter he has this most searching remark, fitted to make us inquire into the reality of these great externalisms and organizations which look well, but may perhaps, after all, be hollow. ‘Iam feeling more and more that nothing in the Church ts of any value save what is really the work of God. He builds the house; and much that we build is only dekna-ke-wasté,) or, as Paul says, to “make a fair show in the flesh.”’

Feeling deeply the evil of this present evil world, and knowing that outward improvements, such as those which are affected by civilisation, or government, or literature, fall short alike of God’s purpose and man’s need, he thus remarks: ‘We are not laying to heart enough the state of the world. God is calling us to mourning and prayer; and we seem to go on much as we would if His terrible judgments were not in the earth, There seems to be a good deal of restlessness and uneasiness in many parts of India. The native mind seems heaving up and down, and very likely we shall have outbreaks in other parts than Rajamahal.’ This was written in September 1855; and, at the same time, he remarks on passing events: ‘This is the Mohurrum,? and yesterday was the great day, so that the town was full of tumult and noise. We have conquered India for Leadenhall Street, but not for Christ; and these outbreaks seem as if the devil paraded his votaries, and way before.’ It was most pleasant, but somewhat perilous, to have a walk with him. The stoppages were many ; — words to be dropped; tracts to be given; kind deeds to be done to passers-by.

1 Hindostanee; meaning literally, ‘ Appearance for looking;’ fair

show; like the apostle’s word «dxporwatw (Gal. vi. 12). 2 A great Mohammedan festival.

vaunted of his power. What David will come and kill the giant? For all here seem at rest, and take it as a matter of course. Yet, troubled and almost overwhelmed by the sight of these idolatries, he can say at the same time: ‘I am never allowed to think that I did wrong in coming

here. I never wish that I had not come. TI feel that 14

shall be to all eternity a different man, in consequence of

my Indian experience and trials. There are many to do the work at home; there are few here.’ Then he turns from the spectacle of a ruined world, and a benighted India, to a lesson of Christian experience: ‘I have been out on my little terrace, and saw a native busy fanning his little fire. I wonder if I could teach him how to “rest” his fire, as they call it in Scotland, and so have Only to stir it up when morning comes, and be saved this daily laborious process. But then, I began to think, does the fire keep alive in our souls all the night; and has the Lord no trouble in kindling it again? I wish we had a continuousness Of spirituality. Watchfulness, self-denial, and separation from the ‘world would help; but, better still, joy in Christ. 1 Thess. v. 14-24 shows, I think, how the fire might be kept always burning. Dark, gloomy, unthankful thoughts quench it very much, and they make way for other evils.’ i

His October letters of that year take the same solemn tone. Here are some extracts : — ‘ Changes, changes; but I find our hearts do not change for the better, and only ceaseless, unwearying, omnipotent grace can make us better. We are the clay, and He the potter 3 and even our stubbornness and unholiness cannot baulk or hinder

Him in His work, when He puts to His hand.... If we could do all things in the secret place, as before the throne, there would be no languor nor want of interest then, but the constant pressing towards the mark; and even the little things, and the trying things, and the humbling things would be the most interesting, as being most fitted to prove our desire to please the Lord. Our life springs out of the death of the flesh; our pleasure out of the denial of our own will; our glory out of a counting ourselves nothing, that the Lord may be all in all. We must be cross-bearers.... We live, I fear, upon our plans and labours, our success, and the standing we have among men.’ At another time he writes : —

‘] have just been thinking how contemptible such a life as Christ’s would seem to the great mass of the higher class of people here! He went about without any ecclesiastical rank, any government appointment. His friends were the poor, and He ministered to the poor almost wholly. If He could appear now as then, I suppose He would be esteemed as some fanatic preacher. I wonder how He bore up under sc many discouragements! But “He trusted in God.” I wonder also at His hopefulness and thankfulness at any little appearance of success! When Peter said, “We know and are sure that Thou art the Christ,” He immediately saw His Father’s hand in this, and looks forward to a conquering Church. And yet how soon these dawnings were overcast again, and the truth made manifest, that it will be the interchange of light and darkness, grace and corruption, to the end!’

He frequently expresses his interest in his Indian servants; pitying them, grieving over their ignorance, their dishonesty, their idolatry. He wonders why there should be such a difference between one sinner and another, as between himself and them. ‘My fellow-creature,’ he writes, ‘pulling the punkah, tries me. Why should it be thus, when I am seeking to approach my God, who is: no respecter of persons?’

We shall now give two series of extracts, illustrative of this period of his life — jirst, Fragments from letters written to Mrs. Milne during her absence in Scotland; and, secondly, Quotations from a diary kept by him during his residence in India with great regularity.

We give the letter-fragments first; and we do so without any order or connection save that of dates, and not always even that. But they are not the less interesting from being so miscellaneous.

‘I had an interesting evening with old G. After a little ‘conversation about Scotland, we got to better things. I read several of the psalms, and prayed, and he told me a good deal of his history. I spoke to him as an outcast, in love and pity, and he felt it; but assured him, on the ground of the gospel, that his case was not hopeless. He was touched.

‘How many sad, sweet memories you must have! But as time passes, the sadness will pass, and the sweetness remain; and we shall say, “He hath led us by the right way.”

‘I agree with you that Ps. lxv. is a missionary or millenarian hymn. There is a little cluster — lxv., lxvi., lxvii, lxviii. — like a nest of honey, put in before Ps. lxix., for the comfort of the man of sorrows.

‘To-night our old friends, Mohendra and Nobin, with another young man, came in; and we have been for nearly two-hours beating up and down, I fear to little purpose, except that one feels a comfort in thinking they have heard a good deal of the word of God.

‘ Fume 1855. — Mrs. Mullens asked me if I would go and visit a friend of hers, Mrs. H., in Park Street, who is dying of consumption. She had met me somewhere, and wished to see me. ... I found Mrs. H., and read and prayed. They entreated me to come again. She seems startled; but up to this time has lived a worldly life. ... Mrs. H. I found worse.... Went to Mrs. H., and found a complete change. Her face was bright, and she was full of joy and thankfulness. She said the Lord had opened and softened her heart, and that she now saw the Lord. She said it was during the night; her husband was with her, and was praying, when the light, as she said, broke in on her mind, and she began to see the truth, and broke forth in praise. She blessed me very much for having come and spoken to her, and her husband came with tears, and said, “All this change is since you came.” I cautioned her that her present feelings might not last; that Satan would tempt her. She seemed at first amazed, but at once acquiesced, when I said, he is the murderer from the beginning. It will be a great encouragement if this is indeed another instance of redeeming grace.... Mrs. H., I found, had not the same light and joy as before; but was peaceful, and says I was right in what I told her. She says she is always praying. I have seen her twice since then, and really hope that the Lord has visited her soul. A great many are now gathering round her of the church to which she belongs, and they all seem to see the change.... Mrs. H. still lingers.... When at dinner, a note came from Mr. H., asking me to go and see his wife, as she seemed dying, and wished to see me. I have been there a good while, and hope that, though a sad wreck in body, she will die in peace.

‘A note has just come to say that Mrs. H. has died very peacefully. Her husband wished me to take the funeral service; but I answered, her own minister should take it, but I would attend.

‘A Mrs. S. joined at this communion. She belonged to the English Church, but has been attending with us for a good while. Our acquaintance began when she called me in from the street to see her sister, whose husband had died on his way from Rangoon. I have seen a wonderful progress in both sisters, and in one brother and his wife quite a little bundle of grace. But they have one brother who still does not feel the truth. He never went to church, but now comes pretty regularly to our church, and they say they pray for him night and day. How salvation refines and elevates! It seems I had twice spoken with the brother, not knowing who he was. I went to see Mr. M., who is soon to get the command of the “Spy,” a surveying vessel. I suppose he and his wife will join us. God has begun already, I should think, in her. She had met me when I was visiting, and sent to ask me if I would call on them.

‘Last night, went to visit sick people — walking. Among others the person M., about whom Mr. Ferguson wrote to me. I had the coachman with me, and he tracked his way through lanes and gullies, in the moonlight, like a hound. I found the poor youth almost gone — apparently the very last stage of consumption.:

‘Went again to visit sick, first M. I found him dying. A good man was there, a Baptist, who knew him. We could make nothing of him. He said he could not attend. He asked how long he would have to suffer. Altogether it was the most hopeless, melancholy deathbed I have ever seen. I took Mr. C., the Baptist, who is a good man, out to the door, and asked what he knew of the poor young man. He said, he had destroyed himself with low debauchery. I went in again, and tried in various ways to awaken and interest; but in vain. After prayer, I had to goto others. To-day, Sabbath, it has been fearfully hot, — the church very full, and oppressively hot. At the Sabbath school; several of the teachers absent; but we made out. The children came in rather late, apparently waiting till the sun had a little lessened his blaze. In the evening church thin. This has been a happy day, though I have been several times drenched as if I had been passed through a river, ... In the evening, went to the fort, and liked the meeting. One of the soldiers of the 98th, who volunteered, and used to come to us, spoke with me. His wife has gone home with the little Russels. She had gone to see him at Dum-Dum before leaving, and on the way home had been attacked by two artillerymen, brutally treated and robbed. The poor fellow was on guard when he heard it, and, without waiting for leave, he ran and broke out of barracks. He had been seized and punished, and all this had fairly overset him, so that, though a true child of God, he had, like Job, begun to repine against God and man. He was worn toa shadow. I walked up and down with him, and he seemed to get light and comfort a little again. ... I have been visiting a good deal, and at night went to see a Mr. L., in Government Place, who is dying of consumption. He is a merchant, and has a young wife and child. The doctor says he can only linger a very short time. His father, in England, is a good man, they say.... I have just been seeing Mr. L. He is dying. He seems full of peace and joy; in the middle of the night he broke forth in thanksgiving. He said, “God has led me by a strange way; but it is the right one,” and went on admiring and glorifying the grace of God to one who had sinned so much. He said, “Tell my father that I shall be waiting for him;” and to his partner, when he went in, in the morning, he said, “TI thought I should have been in glory ere now; but I shall soon be there.” How different such a house is from those which, I fear, are too common here!

‘Mr. M., the chief officer of the ship, is very ill, I suspect dying. I have seen him two or three times; but have not been able to get near his mind as yet.... I have been a long time with poor M., now captain of the “Spy.” They had sent for me; but I had not got the note, having gone out early. But I called on my way, and found him sinking fast. He said, “I have neglected Christ too much, and too long.” He is quite calm and collected, though weak, and I think the Lord is touching his heart. He spoke of the hardness of his heart, the difficulty of believing; but assented

when I spoke of the dying thief. He must have long been a sufferer, as no one knew what was the matter; now they say cancer. I trust it is to be a case like that of L. There is something interesting in the candour and honesty of these men. When fairly brought to a stand, they confess their sin and lost estate, and so are ready to hear of the Saviour. They are not truth proof. It is a kind of new thing to them. I have left the doctor, who is a friend of his, to read to him. I said, “You see his state of mind. He feels that Christ alone can help him now.” He said, “Yes,” and undertook to sit by him and — read a little as he is able to bear it. The doctor took me to see another officer of the little squadron who is ill. He will succeed M. if he dies. Is it not curious how one is led on from one person to another? It will be a great comfort if this poor fellow gives evidence, before he dies, that he has found the Lord.

‘On Thursday morning, ere daybreak, I was awakened to receive a note, saying Captain M. was dying, and wished to see me. I went. He was quite calm and self-possessed. Rallied again, and continued in this state till Friday morning, when he gently died, and, I trust, in the Lord.... Last night I went to the hospital, and went among the soldiers. It isa sad scene; quite crowded, and doolies coming constantly in. with sick men. I found Private Jliffe, who has been the beginning of good in the regiment, lying very ill. He was quite well.on Monday night at the meeting, went on duty on Tuesday morning, and was brought in in the course of the day. Sergeant Hunter I found very ill. In the woman’s hospital was one of the saddest sights I have ever seen. Near the door, Sergeant Hunter’s wife was dying. The place was crowded with women more or less ill, their children round them, and in many cases their husbands. They cried, “You are welcome; it is you we need here.” They say the fort is like an oven, and they are falling by tens and twenties. Coming out I met a fine-looking man, Sergeant D. W. He was almost crying. He said, “I am the only sergeant fit for duty in my company, and am worked night and day. My wife is here ill, and I have no one to take care of my three young children,” and he struck his staff on the ground in a kind of desperation. I have promised, to go back this forenoon. Were we but full of grace and truth, there is abundant room here for going about continually doing good. The natives say yesterday was the most oppressive day we have had. Curious enough, I was much out and enjoyed it; but I mean to rest to-day. ... About twelve, I went to the hospital. Mrs. Hunter died about a quarter of an hour after I left last night. Many of the women were Papists; but they seemed all glad that I should read and pray with them. Then I went to the other hospital. Jliffe seemed a little better. He said he had been delirious during the night, and dreaming of my sermon on Monday night. I went from bed to bed. All welcome me, even the Papists. One was reading the Douay Bible. I took it, and read to him a little. Another was reading A Kempis’ Jztation of Christ, with Popish blazonries and notes. I read a little of the text, and spoke to him, and one or two more near. Then up to the third storey. Several had died since I was there last night. One man was dying and quite unconscious. I tried to speak to him, but in vain. So two or three of them came, and I prayed beside him, A little crowd gathered, and I read and spoke a good deal. Then went to poor Hunter. He was much cast down. They had only told him a little before of his wife’s death. His little boy of four years old, or less, was standing beside his bed. What desolation! I am going back to-day. I think it a most hopeful field; and even if all one could do was merely to soothe and comfort, I would go; but I think the Lord is at work.’

The following extracts are from letters : —

‘Fuly 1855. — I rose early and walked out. An old man came out of a carriage. I walked with him a little, and spoke about seeking the Lord in the morning. He assented, but said the world took such hold of him. ... A note came to-day, asking me to go and see a Mrs. P., whose husband, a pilot, was drowned yesterday. A telegraph message came up of his death. I found her a young creature with two children. My Yames Widows are all gone, but I still have some Ceczl’s Visits. ... 1 have seen the They were not out on Sabbath, for their horses were ill, and they were knocked up, being at work on Saturday from 6 a.M. till 9 P.M. I said, “You look oppressed; tell me if anything is troubling you, not what it is; for, of course, I do not pry into your private matters, but that I may sympathize with you.” He told me that they had lost money, and are in trouble with their Australian trade, as many now are. I, of course, exhorted him to cast his burden on the Lord.

Aug. 1855. — Last night a buggy [a gig] was overthrown near the gate with a great crash. I went down to see if I could help. One of the gentlemen was swearing. After sympathy, and offer of my carriage, I softly said, “You are wrong. You have had a most providential escape; is it right thus to dishonour your Deliverer?” He stopped and thanked me, and became quite quiet.... At night went to the sailors in Lal Bazaar. I went into the street and brought different parties in and gave them hymn-books, and read till the service began. Mr. Chill was doing the same, and the place was nearly full.. .. Have been a little round with the beadle to hunt up for the Sabbath school. After that I went to the sailors’ meeting in Lal Bazaar. There was a good number. I took “Ye were as sheep going astray” — the lost sinner, the saved sinner. There was a good deal of impression. When we finished, for I made Chill pray and close, none rose to go away. I spoke a little to them, and said, “You have encouraged others to go astray; try to bring your companions here ; — for they all said they would come back next night. You have been the devil’s tools, now try to be Christ’s helpers in well-doing.” One old boatswain said, “I have been the wanderingest sheep of all.” ... Lhave had a visit just now from Mohendra and Nobin.

1 One of these books he generally sent to every one in sorrow.

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We have had a really affecting, interesting meeting. Mohendra asked me to read something that I thought suited him. I read the last half of what is said to the Ephesian Church: “Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love.” He said it cut him to the heart, and he acknowledged that he had fallen. He again asked me to read, which I did in Jeremiah. I made him observe the passage in Revelation that it was not indiscriminate censure, for it said, ‘‘ Thou hatest the deeds,” etc., and that this corresponded with what he had told me, that he could not go in with the ways of many of the medical students. It turns out that the present movement about re-marriage of widows originated at our meeting in his house.

‘ Nov. 1855. — The ceaseless changes of Indian society try me; but I wish to go quietly on. A few cases such as that of dear A. would make me think years of labour and trial well spent.

‘You will remember the s we used to meet out driving. She is just dead and her baby expected to follow. ... I have sent Mr. a little book, and have a note from him. ... Have found Mr. s card on the table....

‘Called on Mr. A., and have had a very long, interesting conversation with him, going over passage after passage, and trying to explain difficulties. He is in a very interesting state, and is anxious that it may not pass without saving benefit; but he is, as you may suppose, very dark. We have gone over a good deal to-day, and I have sent for the Anxious Inquirer, which begins with “Impressions, and the danger of losing them.” ... Looked in on Mr. A. He took me to his own room. He said he was coming to see the truth. He is in a most interesting state; I should say converted. He says, he has got great good from the Anxious Inquirer, which just met him at the point where he was, and. then led him on, removing his difficulties and errors. He said it was all new to him that we must be justified before we can be sanctified. He always thought, “I must try to be good, and so get peace with God.” He finds the Bible a new book; and, altogether, I think the Lord is leading him on in much love. He asked me to pray, and then I asked him, which he did without hesitation; but was, as I expected, all in the first person, and very affecting and full, thanking God for not cutting him off during the past twenty-two years of sin and carelessness. He seems being amiable and candid. He says he wishes to come to the Free Church to-morrow. ... Mr. A.cameinthismorn-. ing. He is in a beautiful state of mind; the Lord is carrying him on without cloud or interruption. You would be delighted with much that he says; for instance, that if he had not passed his examinations (which he had just done) he would not have be surprised, for that those who fear God have glory waiting them, and therefore if they have less of this world’s good, it would be no wonder. He is to join at the communion with us.

.. A. called to-day. He is a fine example of the Spirit’s teaching, and I trust the Lord will use him. We prayed together, each in turn. There is great freshness about all his views, and yet he is but a boy. ... In the afternoon Mr. came in, and we have had much pleasant and happy conversation. What a world it would be if all were converted! -.. Wov. 1855. — Mr. came in, and we went to the graveyard to see the tomb he has erected over the grave of his wife. On returning, he remained with me for a little, and we both prayed, and then he left. I feel as if I had lost a brother? ... Nov. 1855. — 1am sometimes inclined to murmur at the strange isolation I feel; but I am checked by the thought how many are in the same condition, scattered up and down this vast land, and cut off,in youth, and for many years from their friends. So I am not going to give Satan a song by idle complaint. Besides, you know, faith, if it were lively, would soon

1Mr, Milne andMr. A. never met again. For many years they kept up a close correspondence; and last year, when Mr. A. had the prospect of being in Scotland, Mr. Milne looked forward with great desire to see him again; but on several occasions was disappointed.

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bring us into good company; “Ye are come to Mount Zion, and to the city of the living God.” There is the family.beneath and the family above. ... JVov. 1855. — I trust that, wherever we are, the Lord will give us grace to love and serve and live for Him. I think my views are becoming more settled in seeing only two objects on earth — the kingdom of grace and the kingdom of darkness. The one I should like to live in and to see advancing, and help it on; the other I should like to leave wholly and for ever, and to see its diminution and decay.... I am passing through a good deal of trial in my own soul, but I think the Lord will bring forth judgment unto victory. I am crushed under a sense of unworthiness; everything about me and around me seems so unlike the great salvation, little, selfish, earthly. Who will be the first to awake and live and speak as a child of light and heir of glory? I have a strange feeling of uselessness, which is sometimes quite oppressive; but I trust I shall be enabled to wait quietly till the clouds break and pass away.

“December 1855. — I have been reading the Lent Lectures for 1854 in St. George’s Church, Bloomsbury. They are feeble; but that does not repel or disincline rae from Millenarianism, because I believe that it is seen not by any eminence of talent, but by the illumination of God. I think Jerusalem will be the metropolis of the Christian world, and that, as many now go from superstition there from year to year, so all nations will then go in love and thankfulness to worship the Lord. But whether Christ will be visibly present and accessible there, I do not know, and dare not give a decided opinion; but all my sympathies are with you.

‘ Yanuary 1856. — Called on Mrs. M., who is in great distress about her son at Peshawur, who is ill, and her husband will not show her the letter about it. I said, “The way in which you can best help him, is by putting away your cares and fears, and trying to pray in strong faith and hope.” ... Should we not observe little things? When I was at the funeral yesterday, I saw a man looking about as if the burial service were not intended to be followed and felt. I turned towards him, and he became attentive; but I thought I should like to speak to him. ‘I lost sight of him, however, in the crowd. Well, yesterday, when I went into L.’s shop, I found my friend; so I said, “You were at the funeral last night;” and then put my hand on his shoulder, and spoke seriously and kindly to him. ... I have had a visit from two Baboos. One is one of those of whom we several times had hopes. I said, “Are you still sticking in the mire?” He said, he thought he was advancing a little. The other seemed a flippant, self-complacent fellow. I said, “Are you a Christian?” He said, “No; I am sorry to say am not a Christian.” I said, “You are not sorry; I wish you were, for then there might be some hope.” And I felt checked, when I remembered the young ruler.

‘ March 1856. — I am not sure that the J.s have regular family worship; so, what do you think I did when I called to-day? I made his boy turn up Eph. vi. 1-3, and read it. Then asked, “What is nurture?” “Food.” “What was baby’s food?” “Milk.” “Well, that’s for the body; but what is nurture for the soul?” Weturned tor Peterii.1. “The word of God.” “Well,” I said, “your father labours, and he gives you nurture for the body, — how often?” “Breakfast, etc.” “And how often nurture for the soul?” “Morning and evening.” “Does he not read and pray with you?” The boy looked at the father, and the mother looked, and I did not look, but went on speaking a little.... I have been to see Mrs. M. She said, “Neither I nor my husband are very pious; but we think it wrong to profess what we do not feel, as many do.” I said, “Right, madam, in that; but it is very wrong not to feel pious. You and your husband ought to fear God, and trust Christ, and repent.” She looked rather taken aback, but was peculiarly friendly. ... Called on [the husband of the lady to whom the previous extract refers. Both were Episcopalians]. Spoke of various matters. After a little I brought in religion, and felt my way. Had he never had deeper convictions than at present? He looked very sharply; but I looked at him, and so he went on, iz LERITERS. and said he had, but business had carried him away. I said religion did not require long research. It brings us a heavenly Friend, who is willing and able to support us under those crushing responsibilities and perplexities of which we had been speaking. “Hear, and your soul shall live.” He said he had been originally intended for the Church, and would have got a living in Ireland.” “But,” I said, “you know I have a roving commission, — ‘ every creature,’ and so count you as a patient.” He said, “You are right; I am obliged, and could not be offended.” We parted very kindly.

‘ May 1856. — Dr. K. has been in. He is of an inquiring, speculative turn of mind, and says he feels in doubt about many of the truths of God. I think he will be led on.

‘ ¥uly 1856. — I have been writing to Dr. K., sending him Miss Graham’s memoir. I ask that our intercourse yesterday may be the beginning of an open, brotherly correspondence, which, I trust, will end in his saying, “My Lord, and my God!” I say that I have little faith in men’s reasonings; that a true Christian is God’s own creation, born again of God; that the doubts and questionings he feels are no cause for pride, but for sorrow and humiliation; that they are a fruit of sin, and only found among men on earth, — devils believe and tremble, and even infidels drawing near to eternity distrust their former doubts; that I think the Bible is our best witness when it is read prayerfully; that many things may seem at first mysterious and unaccountable, but postpone seeking the explanation till you are more fully acquainted with divine truth, There are many things in your own profession which you did not comprehend at the commencement, and if you had insisted on getting an explanation you would never have been Dr. K.

‘ August 1856. — On board the steamer going to Benares. — There is a young man on board, exceedingly clever and well informed, who has been, and still is, very ill. I should think he may not live long, but it is difficult to get access to his mind. He shrinks from any allusion that might make him think himself in any danger. Perhaps I may get an opening ere we part.... We were conversing on deck last night, when the others gradually dropped away and left me alone with H., the sick young man, and I had an opportunity of speaking to him, which I had scarcely looked for. He took it in good part, and we parted shaking hands heartily.

‘ Sabbath Morning, August 1856. — On board the steamer. — At breakfast I prayed that we might have a little of the Sabbath rest and Sabbath spirit. The captain, beside whom I sit, said, “I have never been so happy in any voyage before; and when we reach Monghyr, about 1 o’clock, I shall stop for the day, and get and give the Sabbath rest.”’

Each day during this trip he had a little meeting for reading the Bible and prayer in his cabin. It began with young men, but gradually others joined; even the captain. At one of the stations on the way up the river, the judge read the English service, and asked Mr. Milne to preach, which he did,

‘ September 1856. — Coming down the river to Calcutta. — 1 had beside me to-day a person who says he has wandered over most of the world, except Australia, and he is going there. I said, “What have you learned?” He answered, “To be a fool.” I looked at him, and said, “It is time for you now to learn to be wise,” and then spoke to him.... Yesterday I gave tracts, and they have been handed about the ship. The captain took me to his cabin last night and seemed much affected. This morning he has been reading on deck, and came and sat beside me, and I read little bits to him out of my Bible.... We have had at dinner a debate about keeping the Sabbath. Of course it came to little; and I don’t think that is the way to do much good. In the evening I got into talk with the chief malcontents, first speaking about tigerhunting and then the Sabbath. I said, “The question should not be about this way or that way of keeping the Sabbath, but, are we converted men? If we loved God, and had our citizenship in heaven, would we weary of the spiritual employments of the Sabbath and pant for worldly amusements?” They quite went along with me. ... Captain G. has been speaking a good deal to me, and says he was much affected last Sabbath during sermon. ... C. came also and said much the same, that he would have cried but forshame. He told me of his wife’s death, and other trials. I spoke a little to him, and then asked him to lean over the gunwale of the vessel, and I prayed shortly.

‘ October 1856. — As a minister I feel I have a right to speak to every creature, and usually I don’t allow it to lie idle.. I have just been thinking that Christ’s coming is a definite, and distinct, and comprehensible object. Put this away, and then death, heaven, and a kind of dreamy idea of lengthened life is all that people have to occupy the future. All along, since it was said, “The seed of the woman,” etc., there has been a looking forward to the coming of a PERSON. ... Calcutta. — I1 went in last night to see Mr. W., an Oxford man, a civilian, We talked first about general matters, then about his religious state; and we got into a frank, open-hearted conversation, going over a great deal of ground, and ending with the Bible. ... 1 have just been thinking how strangely the Lord has brought us into acquaintance with His people all over this land! I gave eleven notes to the B — — s; for I found that I could introduce them to children of God in every place they went to on their way to Bareilly. But we must not rejoice in this, but only, and constantly, and greatly in the Lord. I find that, whenever I begin to /eed on any earthly thing, and to roll it as a sweet morsel under my tongue, it invariably becomes bitter, and the idol is turned into a cross.... Last night, I went to see the D s, and stopped a little. For the first time, there was an indication of life in D After reading and prayer, he was telling me about a little nephew, who went to Southampton to meet his mother, and met only her corpse, she having died during the voyage. He said, “The scene was heart-rending.” I said, “The saddest scene in all the world was

Calvary, and this opened his heart.” I think he got good on. Sabbath. We had real talk, and parted with the look you know. I fear he is a dying man, and may be carried off at any time, and it would be so nice to see him on the Rock.... At the missionary breakfast, the question was, “Should missionaries, after being a number of years in India, have a furlough, even though they are not ill?” Some nice remarks were made. When it came to me, I said, “I thought they were very naturally looking at one side of the question — their own; but that there was another. What was good for the Church? Did not the people at home require that missionaries should go among them, and tell them what the Lord was doing, and kindle the flame of missionary zeal? At present, when they went home only in bad health, they either were unfit for this, or it injured them. But that the furlough at the end of some years, might send strong men who would do good service at home; that a dreary, interminable prospect sunk a man’s spirit; but that, if he saw a little way before him rest and change, he was quickened and reanimated.” ... A gentlemanly man called with a note from J. G., an old friend in Perth. We talked about various things pleasantly, and he rose to go. I said, “I will read a little,” and he sat down. I read Psalm xxxiv., and prayed. Hethanked me. He is looking out for employment, and I prayed that he might be guided. In a moment or two he opened up, and we had a most delightful conversation. It was very touching. He is to join with us on Sabbath. He is living in the house with young G. I told him what trouble I had had in vain, trying to get that young man to church, and said, “You must help me.” He is to watch, and try what he can do, His face quivered as I spoke of the responsibility of those who knew the truth. As we shook hands, I said, “Well now, if I had not proposed prayer, we should have parted, and never thought of one another any more; now I hope we are friends for ever.”.... I had a long walk and talk last night with Colonel B. He says he is over-wrought — fourteen hours a day, — and he cannot stand it.

I spoke of the rest, and Hezekiah’s prayer, “Lord, I am oppressed.” It was very nice. ... A Prussian, and one of the leading merchants in the Straits, has been to lunch, He opened his mind to me. I read and prayed with him, and he seemed affected.

‘ March 1857. — 1 think it likely that God will break up all existing organizations of the visible Church; He will thresh the barn-floor, and gather out His own. But e will do it, not man. ... We should have no glory but Christ’s. It is a miserable thing to be esteemed and praised by those who despise and neglect Christ. Hence I should think that to be popular with worldly men should make people very anxious about themselves. ‘True, Christ was followed, but that arose from curiosity, self-interest, and misconception. When they really knew Him, and His doctrine, and His aim, they went away and crucified Him. ... There would seem to be a dotage as well as an infancy in human science. Long ago, when men knew little of nature, they thought matter and motion enough to account for all. And now, when centuries of observation and experiment have accumulated stores of true knowledge, they still come to the same sad conclusion, that dead matter, and blind, necessary laws, without a designing, overruling God, can account for all....

‘ March 1856. — In speaking on the ten virgins, I said that there was no painter like Christ. Here was a picture of the Church in all places and ages. She slumbers and sleeps. Her normal state ought to be life and activity; but it was not so. Now and then a spasmodic galvanic upstarting, and a promise of doing great things; but soon the head begins to nod, the eyelids to droop, the limbs are relaxed, and down she sinks. Was it not so in Calcutta? I had been told there had been better times; but where now were the men with loins girt and lamps burning? where the line of demarcation? where are the godly? You say, In church. Right. You say, At the committees of religious societies to-morrow or next day. But where were they last night, or the night before? Was it at the masquerade, the fancy ball, the idle meeting of frivolity and worldliness; and there up to twelve o’clock, or perhaps beyond? ‘The worldly go to church with the godly, and the godly go to Vanity Fair with the worldly, and thus they alternate; they are just in one cradle, and the devil is rocking it. And so the rich man with his large barns, is not his name Legion? Might we not say to almost any man we meet, “Friend, did you not sit for your portrait more than 1800 yearsago?”... If you write to Andrew Bonar, tell him I am greatly enjoying Baumgarten on the Acts, and that, if anything human will make me a millenarian brother, I think it will.’

We now give the journal-fragments, which will, we think, greatly interest the reader, as illustrations of the writer’s own mind, and asa record of his work. With his feet consciously upon the rock, he looks within and around.

‘Calcutta, 31st October 1854. — Lord, Thou knowest all things; search me and try me. I desire, through Thy blood and Spiri*, and word and providence, deliverance from my besetting sins, many of which I know, many I do not know. Make me like Thyself, a lover of righteousness and a hater of iniquity. I read that “the Spirit of the Lord should rest on Thee, and make Thee of quick understanding in the fear of the Lord.” Lord, I covet this. Change me, and I shall be changed. I desire the fleshly tablet of the heart, which will be ever alive to the intimations of Thy will, and so receive and retain Thy teachings from moment to moment. I desire henceforth to live unto Thee. Make me see Thy glory and Thy loveliness, that I may rejoice in my portion, and that my weak heart may wander no more. Forgive the sins of yesterday, sins known to Thee and to my own heart, and keep me this day, that I may no more grieve and wrong Thee. How foolish, how miserable, to be pleasing men, and displeasing Thee! Having such promises, I would cleanse myself from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and walk with Thee in a filial, loving, honest spirit.

‘I have now been a year and five months in this country.

1 find it too true, celos non animos mutant qui trans mare currunt, The sins that clave to me in Scotland cleave to me here. Lord, give me deliverance! I seek it by faith, and not by the works of the law. Teach me how to perfect holiness in the fear of God, and then, my heart no more condemning me, I shall have boldness before God and man. I see an exceeding proneness to legalism in my heart, a wish to value myself, and to rejoice in efforts made and success attained. It seems utter death to give this up; yet help me, Lord, from this moment, through Thy grace, to do so. May I rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh. My soul, think not, speak not of thyself, but make thy boast in the Lord. I desire to do my daily work heartily and carefully, and leave the issues with the Lord. I should like to look, not at the things that are seen, whether prosperous or adverse, but to the things that are not seen. I think I see a hope of being useful in my ministerial work, though there will be difficulties and disappointments to the end. But I feel that Iam differently situated here from what I was at home. ‘There the eye was fixed on my own sphere almost exclusively; here I look at the whole country, and look and labour for its elevation. I think I feel my heart drawn increasingly to India, so that it would be a kind of death now to leave it. I am disappointed both in the character of missionary work here, and also in the amount and value of its results. Perhaps I have too little considered the difficulties, and been too apt to blame. Let me rejoice that there are Christian instrumentalities at work, even though I think they are in some things in error, and less efficient than they might be. Lord, arise and plead Thine own cause. - “November 4th. — 1 see that we can only overcome by the blood of the Lamb. There is a great tendency here to yield to external circumstances, and sink down; and yet the only safety is in a continual watchfulness and girding up. I must work the work of God. Lord, help me to be pitiful with others, but stern with myself.

‘ November 29th. — I have been thinking of the certainty of the punishment of sin. We never doubt that to go contrary to material laws will bring evil; for instance, he who throws himself into the fire will be burned; much more he who breaks any moral law shall die. Fire is only a creature, and God may change and restrain its properties, as He has often done; but the law is an expression of God’s holy, essential nature, and ere it can be prevented from carrying its sanctions into effect, God’s own nature must be changed. But He changeth not — He cannot deny Himself. How overwhelming the thought that, living in sin, we have been in greater danger than if we had been plunging into a sevenfold heated furnace!

‘ November 30th. — 1 desire this day to seek, and find, and hold fast my Lord. How empty are my days and nights of Thee, O blessed One, who alone canst fill all in all! ... 1 have been reading the life of young M‘Intosh ; — sadly interesting. It may be good that, now and then, such an instance may be given of the result of study carried on under the most favourable circumstances; but I think I would rather be the earnest worker than the earnest student. I think the two should go hand in hand, else we shall become mere /zferateurs and sentimentalists, or sink into the dull rut of regular, mechanical, unthinking labour. I think he got the good of such a life, passing from land to land, and examining many shades of opinion, true and false. I should like to get to my Lord’s stand-point, and see as He sees, and feel as He feels. It is a dangerous experiment, however, to sit in judgment upon divers opinions; and there is a risk of becoming ultimately unfixed and drifting about without any anchorage. M.’s safety, if he did escape the danger, arose from his hold of Christ, and his having got beyond the doctrinal to the personal truth, I think I can see, as he drew near the close of life, that the mare magnum of inquiry and investigation was still opening up to him, and that the time was still far off when he would have cried, “Stop, it is enough.”

‘ December 34. — Sabbath night. — I have been helped in my work, and found it a pleasant day. My comforts at present

HIS CALCUTTA ¥OURNAL. — 255

are very many. May these loving-kindnesses sink down into my heart, and prepare me for times of darkness and trial. I have had some risings of the flesh to-day at the lukewarmness, selfishness, and want of hearty co-operation on the part of those who should be friends; but trust not in a friend, but trust in the Lord; blessed are they that wait on Him. Faith can carry through all. The quiet mornings here are invaluable. One feels fresh after the repose of the night, and gives to the Lord what progress he may make in good, and what preparation he may receive for the trials and requirements of the day. But too often they are lost. There is the morning walk; the meeting with friends, and weariness; there is the morning lounge; the silly, worthless newspaper, laid often on the bed ere they are awake. I have been trying to-night to warn against these. Lord, give Thy blessing, and grant me to keep myself unspotted.

‘December 5th. — Tuesday night. — Busy yesterday. The mail arrived, and our tidings were pleasant. Busy again to-day. Many mercies, and yet evilreturn. It is not truth in the mind, but in the heart, that will influence the heart. There is no perfection or real trustworthiness but in Christ. He is the Rock; but, looking to Him, we should aim at perfection, even to cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit.

‘ December 7th. — Thursday morning. — Some help and comfort yesterday. I feel that my calling is to walk in love, not returning evil for evil, but, contrariwise, blessing. Lord, make my heart soft to-day. I cannot learn, and I cannot do others good, while my heart is hard and wilful. Lord, make me tender and contrite now, and let me take my motives from Thee, and receive my joy from Thee, and be the servant of God and not of men.

‘December 9th. — Saturday morning. — Passing on; busy, ana yet not much seems to be done. Thursday evening. — Meeting of Presbytery, to arrange for Mr. Mackay going to Scotland, and Mr. Millar to Australia. /yéday. — vVarious trials, which serve to show me what I am. Lord, help me to live in Thee and on Thee. The evil that is within me is unspeakable. Save me from its eruptions, and from its indwelling dominion. and power. I see the duty of watching and resisting at once, and discovering all its motions and beginnings. Lord, help me. Make my heart right with Thee, and let me no more identify myself with the work of the devil. I find in this place strange undercurrents of evil, causing unlooked-for umbrage and alienation, so that I am often out in my calculations. But why am I more discontented at this than the mariner on the deep, when he finds himself frustrated by adverse tides and winds? Surely the children of this world are wiser than the children of light. They are more practical, more reasonable; they hold on their way. Help me, Lord ;.my hope is in Thee. Grant times of blessing, and then there will be union. I fear it would often be hard for some to rejoice if the Lord were to give the blessing to others. How selfish we are, seeking each our own things, and not the things of Christ! Enable me to rejoice in all that is the joy of Christ. Iam affected by that word, “My soul shall have no pleasure in him.” God may - still remain by His providential, upholding presence, but He finds no delight, and He expects no gladness. He was still with the men of the world before the Deluge, but it grieved Him at His heart to be among them.

‘ December 12th. — Tuesday morning. — Went to Chinsurah on Saturday evening. Preached on Sabbath, and in the afternoon went among the natives and villages which have lately been almost depopulated by infectious disease. Sad scenes of misery. Dying like the beast, and not knowing nor caring what after becomes of them. I have been kept during these days. Lord, help me to possess my soul in patience. Make me to dwell on high, and ever to rejoice in God my Saviour. I desire guidance and blessing this day as to the places I visit, and my conduct and converse there. Lord, hide me in the secret of Thy presence.

‘ December 13th. — Wednesday evening. — Many blessings ,and slight trials. Sense of the danger of losing my Lord. Have been trying to seek much this night at the prayer-meeting, I desire to seek the good of all men. Grant me the charity which flows out of a pure heart and a good conscience. Help me, Lord, to rise above little, proud, selfish feelings, and to love and care for all, and that for Thy blessed sake.

‘ December 234. — Saturday morning. — think I feel, Lord, that Thou art softening my heart, and revealing to me more and more of the evil of sin. I think I see more the need of a broken heart, and a soft, tender, watchful walk. Grant that this may be abiding and growing. I desire to make use of the lessons I am learning from Mr. Morgan’s — as far as man could judge — deadly illness, and now the beginning of hope and restoration. Lord, prepare me for all Thy will. Grant me to do from day to day, with my might, all I have to do. I desire to put away all partialities, envies, jealousies, and to love all, and to seek their whole good, earnestly, continually, and by all means. Grant me grace daily to walk with Thee, my Lord; and then, when all else fails, this fellowship will remain, and brighten, and deepen.

6 December 24th. — Sabbath morning. — My friend Mr. Morgan died suddenly last night. He sunk all at once, most unexpectedly. It is a sore disappointment, and, as far as I can judge, an almost irreparable loss, for he seemed just the man for his work. Lord, help! I have been a good deal tried during the night; but my hope is in Thee, O Lord. Forgive me, and aid me, and let all Thy will become my will.

* December 26th. — Tuesday morning. — Busy yesterday. How easily the over-engrossed heart slides away from the Lord; and yet how willingly and unresistingly it yields to the temptation, and even rejoices, and prides itself upon these, too often selfsought and self-wrought, activities! Met my old friend, Mr. Anderson, formerly of Banchory, who has come to be a Professor in one of the Government colleges in the N.W. Provinces. Met also the new head of the Martiniere, at Mr. Woodrow’s. Long conversation on metaphysics. Persuaded that all these discussions are unprofitable and hurtful. It is striving to ex-R plain what God has left in mystery, and to set aside the supernatural faith which God gives to His elect. Lord, I bless Thee for Thy word. Help me to learn all it teaches, believe all it announces, obey all it commands.’

In the beginning of the next year (1855) he gives utterance to both hope and fear. He looks the obstacles right in the face, and casts himself on God. He mourns over High Church sectarianism; asks for the breaking down of ‘the walls of partition with which these Judaizers encompass themselves;’ prays for times of unity and mutual appreciation, and to be kept, meanwhile, from despondency and from bitterness. He takes everything to God; he looks at everything in the light of the divine glory; he records his joys and sorrows; and, above all, his confidence in the living God, both for himself and for his work. He grieves over his weaknesses and unfitnesses, and adds, ‘I feel the more need to cultivate close fellowship with my Lord.’ There is the prospect of his beloved wife having to leave for England on account of health; and he asks for help for both in this long separation. ‘There seem clouds rising over the land, and he says, ‘ We may be on the verge of great events; guide me in reference to public affairs.’ He gets down very deep into self-humiliation, and his utterances are like those of David Brainerd. Yet his faith fails not. His eye is always on the cross; and so he moves on, feeling the conflict within and the opposition without, but not succumbing. He looks round, he calls up those over whom he is yearning, and adds, ‘ Pity, Lord, those I think of as I write, and give a time of salvation ere they leave this land or die.’

‘Fan. 12th. — Thursday. — I think God is leading me more into the mystery of the kingdom, and making me see that it begins inwardly and works out. .The word and Spirit in the soul makes one a member of the kingdom, and fits for service in it. Let me cease from putting much trust in outward working and management. “Ye shall receive POWER;” and then build. But it was not the power of wealth, or mere eloquence, or fashion, or state endowment, or organization, or machinery. Lord, keep my eye upon the rock whence Thy Church has been dug. Make me deaf, and blind, and dead to all the contempt, and indifference, and carnal neglect with which Thy cause meets, and enable me to labour on in hope, without bitterness. Save me from vain thoughts and sad thoughts, and enable me to seek and proclaim Thy truth in growing simplicity and power. I feel what a hindrance the bigotry, Popery, Judaism, and earthly power of the High Church Episcopalians in this land present. I shall need much grace to bear and wait. Arise, O Lord, and bring down this pride and dispel this darkness.... Make me mindful of the nature of Thy kingdom; that it comes not with observation; that it is not outward organization; that it does not bulk large in the world’s eye, but is the gathering together of the poor, the babes, the broken-hearted. Even while really seeking the salvation of souls, and feeling that nothing short of this can benefit them, how apt am I to seek mere congregational prosperity! Lord, in mercy lift me up; bring me into the secret of Thy presence; make to seek, find, and feed.on truth.... Bless the daily reading of the word, and all the events of life. I scarce know how I may be conformed to Thee in heart; it probably must be by means

1 An Episcopalian clergyman, not High Church, called on him one day, and said, ‘I am walking in your footsteps, and going into all the lanes and gullies; but you know far more of this work than I do, and you must guide and help me.’ Afterwards Mr. M. wrote to him encouragingly, and received a most cordial reply, expressing the earnest hope that they might work in love side by side.

most painful and distasteful to the flesh; but do Thou save me in whatever way. Show me Thy cross, and teach me to glory therein, and to enter into all the sentiments it suggests and the motives it produces. Let me be a crucified man; yet let me live because Thou livest in me.’

The rest of this month is filled up with happy entries. ‘A truly good and peaceful day.... Much peace and comfort to-day.... Much peace.’ February is strewed over with little tranquil notices. His peace was like a river.) March comes; and though he had been sorely tried by parting with his beloved wife for a two years’ residence in England for her health, yet his records are still bright. ‘Life has been passing on quietly and smoothly; some trials, though slight and brief, and many more mercies.’ He speaks, too, of encouragement in his work, but mourns that he has been ‘too little with God;’ and feels a ‘ dryness and distance creeping over his soul.’

‘March 24th — Saturday morning. — I think the Lord is leading me to live a good deal above the world; not to think how this or that might have been better or more comfortable, but to get away from it altogether and seek HIMSELF.... Once or twice the thought has tried to get entrance, what life would be if anything were to befal B., and I were left to wander on alone? But I desire to resist and put away such thoughts, Mrs. Morgan left behind at Cairo, dangerously ill; Mrs. Fordyce sinking; so that, if I begin to think, I see I should give way, and therefore I desire to hope continually.’

The most of April passes by unnoticed, till he comes to his birth-day, and then he resumes : — :

1 These are memorable words: ‘I see clearly that I can only be useful in this land by striving to attain and introduce a higher spirituality both in life and work.’

‘April 26th. — Thursday. — My birth-day. How many, O Lord, have been Thy tender mercies! Thou hast borne with me more years than Thou didst with Israel in the wilderness. Thou hast led me about, emptied me from vessel to vessel, brought me into acquaintance and tender friendship with some of the best and dearest saints; and Thou hast showed me not a little of Thy glorious and gracious working in the souls of men. Thou hast twice united me in the tenderest relation to women of God, the beloved of the Lord. How many have been Thy mercies! I desire this day to commend to Thy loving care my dear wife. Guide, and keep, and bless, and sanctify, and use her; and then unite us again, that together we may try to serve and honour Thee. I commend to Thee all my relations scattered up and down the earth. Let them be precious in Thy sight.... My dear wife is far away. Bear me up in her absence. I stand much alone in this place and land; for I find none like-minded to whom I can pour out my heart. All seem to seek their own, or to be tied up in their own little circles. ... Let me have growing trust in Thy love and care. I desire never to rest even on a work of real grace within; but to know that it was advancing, might encourage and give me confidence.’

In his July entries he speaks of clouds, and depressions, and languors; yet he also speaks of ‘some glancings into his heart of the joy of life, as an opportunity of living with and to God.” His home-letters comfort him in some respects; but he is cast down at the intelligence that his beloved wife will not be able to rejoin him till the end of next year. ‘The long array of weary months stretching out in prospective, almost sinks his heart.’ Yet he does not give way; and this petition is still uppermost: ‘ Lord, give me to see Thy work;’ and this also: ‘ Enable me to go on calmly and holily.’

He meets with Dr. Anderson from America, and more than once gets refreshment from conversation with him. ‘He has been brought to see that it is only an election that will be gathered in; and therefore we should go on hopefully and yet self-deniedly, having no will of our own, but watching and waiting to see what is the will of the Lord.’ He works heartily at our institutions, and takes pleasure in missionary conferences; yet longs for higher things than he sees. ‘Secular education has too much taken the place of preaching Christ.’ He feels ‘ burdened.’ The’ converts are too dependent on us for support, and are not men of zeal and energy. He would like to try the apostolic procedure, and go to the old as much as to the young. He is afraid of a compromise with unbelief, and would like to see more simple trust in Jehovah and in His gospel as the power of God unto salvation.

His entry on the 14th of August (1856) notices his watching the deathbed of Mrs. Milne’s father; and on Sabbath, the 19th, he writes : —

‘Papa has gone from us. He sunk softly and peacefully, and on Friday morning died without even a sigh. I have every hope that it is well with him now. Grant us, Lord, the use of what we have been passing through, and be our support and portion in what is before us. Prepare my own B, for what will be to her such sad tidings. The funeral quiet and solemn last night. Bless me and aunt, and guide us in all our arrangements, and bring B. in due time again to us. I desire to live in Thee. It has been a dreary, sleepless night, and I feel feeble; but, Lord, do Thou use me, and all will be well.’

On the 8th of November 1856, he writes to Mrs.
Sandeman : —

THOUGHTS OF OLD TIMES IN PERTH.” 263

‘My VERY DEAR Mrs. SANDEMAN, — I have been far too long in acknowledging your very touching letter, and in thanking you for all your kindness to my dear wife, whose heart seems much drawn to you. Perhaps you may be able to write her a few words, now that she is in sorrow herself from the loss of her dear father. He died in much peace, full of days and of general esteem. I was deeply affected by all your details of the last hours and experience of Alexander and Hugh. I call that letter your “way home.” And now last mail brought me Mrs. Barbour’s “way home.” Strange, indeed, have been the Lord’s dealings with you; but He knows what is best, and I am sure you trust Him, and think well of Him still. I remember quite freshly the first call I ever made at Springland. It seems like yesterday; and at this moment I can recall every object and every feeling. How much has passed since then! But we are going on. We cannot and would not turn back. You must now seek grace for Charles and Frank. It is a great thing to have children and children’s children in heaven. I hear most gratifying accounts of David and Frederick as preachers. May the Lord greatly use them! It will be a trial parting with David; but he goes toa great work, and he is the only one I know fitted to be a coadjutor to William Burns. I met the Bishop of Victoria here lately, who knew Mr. B., and spoke of him with great admiration.’

His diary then proceeds for some days much in the same strain as before; a record of peace and help, and conflict and work, interspersed with thoughts on Scripture : —

‘ August 24th. — Friday morning. — Let me follow out the thought of being dead with Christ. What manner of person should I be? I have nothing to do with things below in the way of being anxious about them, or vexed, or over-glad. What does a dead man care for these things? Though a man buffet him on the cheek, trample on him, what does he mind? Alive with Christ! Let me live where He is, and have heart and mind there. Yet He looks down on men, and dwells among them to pity and save. So let me be in the world, but not of the world. Here for the good of others, to do my Father’s will; but not for any expectation of good.’

He refers to his lonely circumstances ; — wife and relatives dead or far away; yet he goes on, acquiescent in the heavenly will; accepting his position here; looking upwards, and willing even to fail, if such be the purpose of God. ‘Only let me love and enjoy Thee, and let all else

?

go.’ Yet he feels he is of ‘some use’ here; ‘learning what he could not have done amid the privileges and prosperity of home.’ He is ever recording petitions in behalf of his dear wife, and longing for her return; yet working on contentedly; ‘life passing on quietly, without much trial,’ and with ‘Jehovah alone his salvation; desiring ‘to please Him in all things; ‘ashamed of his unbelieving fears? ‘becoming more and more alive to the difficulties of a holy life.’ Thus he sings : —

‘Revive, O Lord, this sluggish soul,
And give me back salvation’s joy;
Let grace my sinful lusts control,
And send me forth in Thy employ.
My hands hang down, my feet are slow,
My lips are dumb, my heart is cold;
Let Thy free Spirit on me blow,
Let fresh forgiveness make me bold.

See, Lord, these fields are ripening fast,
And sin and death their sickles ply:
Oh send me forth the net to cast;
Oh stir up men from wrath to fly!
I know that poor and weak I am,
A very babe, with stammering tongue;
Be Thou my helper, gracious Lamb,
And in Thy strength let me be strong.”

I may notice, that the pieces quoted here and elsewhere are interspersed throughout his Indian diary; as if his soul, in that land of strangers, loved to pour itself out in these strains. He seems to have written them with great ease and rapidity, walking to and fro on the verandah, I believe; yet they are singularly correct in rhythm; some of them very beautiful. Here is another : —

‘Give me, O Lord, Thy changeless peace,
And calm, I pray, this troubled mind;
That I from bitterness may cease,
And ’mid unkindness, still be kind.

Thy sun his ceaseless course pursues,
And shines alike on good and ill;
May I, like him, to stop refuse,
When thankless souls my spirit chill.

Give me the strong, untiring love,

Which hopes, endures, and never fails;
But, daily strengthened from above,

At length o’er all who hate prevails.’

Contrasting the obedience of creation to its Creator’s laws, with the disorder and conflict of his own inner man, he thus writes : —

‘ My God, the kingdom’s Thine; all things should Thee obey;

But this rebellious will of mine resists Thy gracious sway. The sun fails not to shine, the moon holds on her way;

But this rebellious heart of mine resists Thy gracious sway. The seasons know Thy sign, and come without delay;

But this rebellious heart of mine resists Thy gracious sway. The winds and waves combine to do what Thou wilt say;

But this rebellious heart of mine resists Thy gracious sway. Thy word comes line on line, Thy mercies day by day;

But this rebellious heart of mine resists Thy gracious sway. In weariness I pine, for succour oft I pray;

Yet this rebellious will of mine resists Thy gracious sway.

Work in me what is Thine, and teach me to obey; Then this renewed will of mine will love Thy gracious sway.’

I add another here, in another strain. A few more will be cited farther on. But the pieces are too numerous, and some of them too long, to find a place in this memoir : —

* Open my blinded eyes, and make me clearly see The loveliness that hidden lies, O Lamb of God, in Thee. Let. Thy mild beauties win the mastery of my soul, And turn my carnal heart from sin, and all its thoughts control. The fathers from afar beheld Thy day of old, They saw Thee, bright and morning Star, Thy distant rays unfold. And as they marked Thy rise, and felt Thy healing beams, Their hearts, o’erwhelmed with glad surprise, forgot all meaner

themes.

All things seemed full of Thee, God’s fair and lowly flower! They saw Thee growing in the tree, and dropping in the shower. And oft they wondered how, and asked the question when, The Lord on high His heavens would bow, and dwell with sinful men? Why, then, am I so slow, more favoured far than they, My great Incarnate Lord to know, and follow in His way? Awake, my soul, from sleep, betake thyself to prayer, And search and learn the mysteries deep that save from endless care.’

Intermingled with these artless, yet not commonplace effusions, the journal goes on: — ‘ A comfortable day in church and Sabbath school.’ ‘Another peaceful day.’ ‘A good day this has been; quiet and peaceful yetnl have felt the old enemy within, and the old enemy without.” He asks ‘guidance and selfcommand.’ He goes to various places, ‘meeting with much kindness, and finding opportunities of doing good.’ ‘Helped, and happy.’ He wants to ‘love the low estate, and to lose his life that he may find it unto life eternal.’ ‘A pleasant and encouraging day;’ but he must ‘ watch lest he lose all.’ «A pleasant peaceful day; fellowship with God; one or two trials to humble.’ ‘A busy and encouraging day.’ He asks more ‘simplicity of nature, and habitual, entire leaning on the Lord.’ ‘Dr. Duff in the morning [preaching]; full of truth and power. ‘An unsatisfactory day; hurried, and needing special mercy.’ ‘Feeble, and no strength in myself, yet a very pleasant and comfortable day.’ “Home letters, full of mercy.’ ‘Bless my own B” ‘A busy working day, yet peaceful’ ‘Much driven about, distracted, and worn out and tried; I cast myself on Thee.’ ‘A pleasant, happy day; help, and power.’ ‘Make me holy to Thyself.’ ‘ Poor and sinful.’ ‘A busy, but quiet day” ‘I seek grace this day to live in and on Christ.’ ‘Rainy at night, and prayer-meeting thin; home letters full of mercy.’ ‘A very toilsome day; wandering from place to place.’ ‘Upon the whole, a peaceful day; a little tired at night; but if self were given up, I should not have felt it? ‘Some searchings and humblings of heart, and some longings for the Lord.’ ‘Not much done, yet kindness from the Lord.’ ‘ Poor and needy, unable to lift myself up; yet a good day.’ ‘ Barrackpore: a good day.’ ‘Tried and failed; help.’ ‘I long to love Thee, Lord. A good day; helped to walk softly.’ ‘Seeking a fixed heart; feeble all day, but kept.’ ‘A good day; tried, but enabled to take it as part of the crucifixion.” ‘ August 10th. — Communion. Dr. Duff served the table. He seemed helped, and I feel refreshed.’

Towards the end of August he went to Benares for change and rest, as his health was failing; and there is a record of his journey, his work, the places he saw, and missionaries he had intercourse with. He speaks strongly of the evil done by the Government schools, in ‘raising up a race of atheists, who have no fear nor principle.’ On the 19th September he records his return: ‘On my way home. I have spent a very happy time at Benares, and feel thankful for all the fellowship I have had with Mr. Tucker and his family.’ He had spent six weeks there, and returned to Calcutta quite invigorated. * September 26th. — Letters from home last night. One from Mrs. Stuart from Paris. Eliza is going home to die. Help me, O Lord, to bear her on my heart. 29¢#. — Eliza Stuart in London, on her way home to die. Lord, be with her in giving light and peace.’

During the following months there is a great amount of remarks on various topics, chiefly on passages of Scripture, both in the Old and New Testaments; the notices regarding himself being fewer. Occasionally, however, we have, ‘A very happy day; I enjoyed my work, and desire to thank the Lord for all His goodness.’ ‘A quiet day, though weary; mercies and loving-kindnesses. I need constant keeping, guidance, and also constant watching, and an unceasing intercession.’ ‘I long to be rivers of water; to have that fulness of Christ and heavenly things that will not be restrained, but will urge and make way for itself.’ ‘I feel the blessedness of waiting on the Lord, and not fretting because things seem not to be going right.’ ‘I feel as if I had been slipping away from the Lord, and suffering many things to come between Him and me.’ ‘ Dec. 315¢4- — My dear wife and her aunt arrived in safety; many mercies.’

After this comes a-blank, or, rather, many blanks, for the entries are fewer :1 —

- May 27th. — We are in the midst of defection and revolt. Every mail brings tidings of regiments casting off their allegiance. Delhi is in the possession of the mutineers; much bloodshed, and many barbarities committed. It is a crisis in Indian history; but I trust we shall be brought through it. I think I am learning something from the state of the times. Oh to live in nearness and growing oneness with the Lord!’

In May 1857, about the time of the beginning of the mutiny, he and Mrs. Milne went to visit some friends a little way out of Calcutta, near a gun manufactory. Other guests were in the house as well as themselves. In the

1 Here is an extract from a note to David Sandeman, that noble and honoured servant of Christ, who, after a few years of labour in China, passed to his reward. His name is strongly linked with that of John Milne and William Burns. It is a note introducing some friends, and asking Mr. Sandeman to ‘encourage them in seeking the Lord ’ — ‘I had a long letter from your dear mother, telling me the particulars of your last visit to Perth; also from Mr. Ogilvie. I wish you could have come round this way; but the Lord otherwise ordered it. But we must try to keep up some interchange of brotherly affection by letter. How much of this mutual interest in one another there seems to have been among the early Christians! Paul seems so anxious that his friends at a distance should know all his concerns, and that he should know all that was befalling them. I think there is reason for this. We cannot think of one another, nor pray for one another aright, unless we know one another’s condition. Don’t you think these intercommunications are like the gales of the Spirit that keep the atmosphere, or like the tides which keep the seas, from stagnation? Without occasional hearing from one another, our love will languish and decay. I trust the Lord is upholding and comforting you, and giving you earnests of a large and abundant harvest.’ — Calcutta, 19th

Fan. 1857.

course of the evening a message came from the officer in charge of the manufactory, to say there were so many rumours of risings among the native troops in the neighbouring stations, and he could put so little confidence in the sentries posted round his own house, that he intended to send his own wife and child on board a steamer in the river for the night; and he thought any ladies or civilians in the house in which they were should go on board also. Some of the party present laughed at the idea of danger; but Mr. Milne was very decided that such a message should not be neglected, and insisted that they should go at once to the officer’s house, and embark with his family. Accordingly, they did go to his house; and when parties from other quarters had all gathered there, they got into boats to go to the steamer. Most of the gentlemen went with them; and when all the ladies had got on board, they did so too, Mr. Milne amongst them. They remained there all night; but as soon as Mr. Milne had seen his wife into the cabin, and in safety, he put his Bible into her hand, and said, Good-bye; and in one moment was over the side of the steamer, in the boat, and off to the shore again. When he got back to the commandant’s house, the officer said, ‘What’s the matter? Why have you come back?’ ‘Oh!’ said he, ‘ wherever there is danger, there the minister of Christ should be.” And there he remained till dawn, when danger for that night was past.

‘May 29th. — This day four years I had just landed in Calcutta, and gone to church. How much have I gone through since then!... May 31st — Sabbath afternoon. — This Sabbath four years was the beginning of my sojourn and ministry in this place. Yue 11¢#. — Every mail brings tidings of fresh mutinies and violence and murder. All is dark, with very little to cheer in passing events. Here and there courage and promptitude and ability have appeared; but, generally, there has been great want of foresight and energy. European troops are arriving, and proceeding in small bands up the country. Had there been combination and united action on the part of the enemy, we must have been overwhelmed in all directions. But the power that has been able to raise this flame has not been able to actuate and direct it. Hence the outbreaks, though fierce and disastrous, have been local and successive, and have been, in leading places, resisted and put down. Delhi, their headquarters, must soon be reached, and then there will be an aggressive movement all over the countries. I have letters from many places, speaking of the dangers and sufferings which are endured almost over all the land. Here we have only an occasional alarm. Leadenhall Street, with its narrow, selfish policy, its time-serving, and truckling to error and idolatry, will now, I trust, be superseded, and a larger and more liberal system introduced. I feel my heart drawn out in pity for the many sufferers; a longing that our rulers may be decided and energetic; and a hope that many may be led to decision, and true faith in the Lord.

‘ F¥une 12th. — Still gloomy tidings from up-country. The conspiracy seems to have been universal, and must have succeeded had it not broken out prematurely. We wait for news from Delhi, which, as it is the heart, so it may have been the source of the evil. Precautions are taken here, for we have a considerable Mohammedan ‘population. Not too soon. But the dream of peace and safety, which has. brought sorrow on so much of India, may also bring ruin on the capital itself. I feel quietness of spirit, looking to the Lord. There is not much to care for here.

‘ Yune 13th. — The tidings from up-country still gloomy; but European troops are fast flowing in, and arrangements are made for the protection of the town.... une 14th. — Just as Iwas going into the pulpit, a letter was brought from a missionary, saying, on most reliable authority, that two native regiments, 43d and 7oth, had broken loose from Barrackpore, and were approaching the town, strongly urging and entreating that there should be no morning service. He and others had fled on shipboard. I knew last night that these regiments were ready for revolt, and thought it probable that the report might be true. I felt the responsibility of keeping the people together in such circumstances, especially in a Mohammedan district like that in which our church stands. However, I determined to go on, and we were carried through in peace; though I felt anxious, knowing what would be the consequence of any panic in the church, even though there were no real danger. We seem, however, to be on the eve of an emeute; but the authorities are aware and prepared.’

Such is his own brief reference to a proceeding on which it is not easy for us at a distance to form any opinion. Many will pronounce it imprudent; and most ministers in such circumstances would have yielded to the threatening danger, and not proceeded to church, nor allowed the congregation to assemble. The simple explanation of his ‘imprudence,’ as some may call it, is to be found in his own natural fearlessness, which made him quite unable to comprehend danger to himself. We may give a slightly fuller account of the matter, which will confirm our view of his character.

On the Sabbath that the troops at Barrackpore were disarmed, and when it was feared they might rise and come down on Calcutta, when he went into the vestry, two gentlemen begged him to have no service on account of the danger of attack, and one showed him a letter he had had from a missionary who had taken refuge on board ship. But he said, ‘No, it was duty; only he would be brief.’ In the closing prayer, he thanked God there had been no interruption to the service. Then, having taken his wife home, he went to visit a sick friend, and on the table he found a revolver! In the evening, when he and his wife were again going to church, a friend called to say that the troops had been quietly disarmed, and all danger was, for the time, over. That evening there were just five-and-twenty in church.

‘ Fune 20th. — European troops arriving. The inhabitants are embodied to defend the town. Still, there is a possibility that the Mohammedans, in blind rage, may make some outbreak.

‘ ¥Yune 22d. — Yesterday I found a good day, being helped. To-day I have been at the Institution, and afterwards visiting. Many seem disturbed and alarmed. Some I find trusting simply in the Lord, and believing that He will protect them. There seems a rather general fancy that some outbreak will take place to-morrow, as it is the anniversary of the battle of Plassey and the festival of Juggernaut, when there will be crowds in the streets. The panic-fear of so many must encourage the enemy, and lead them to suppose that they are stronger, and we more defenceless than we are. The tidings from up-country are still disastrous, — death, and violence, and fresh outbreaks. The missionaries are fleeing. We are not judges for one another, but I feel inclined to ask, Where is your faith? Such has been the faithlessness, deceit, and brutality of these wretched and bloody men, that it is difficult to avoid feeling a sinful indignation, and longing for severest retribution. Yet what they have done is the natural fruit of their perverse and dark religion. What have we done to turn them from their errors?

‘ Fune 24th. — Vesterday passed quietly here, but we have still sad tidings from up-country. Flight and death. There

-S are many fears lest Lucknow and Cawnpore, with their brave defenders, should be overwhelmed by numbers and famine ere help reach them. No tidings of the fall of Delhi. To-day I have felt far from the Lord. Iseek His face, and I know that He will look upon me. But it is trying to remain thus, and the flesh takes advantage. I feel what need I have to watch. As proof after proof occurs of the infatuation and obstinacy of the home governors of this country, their neglect of the most ordinary precautions, and closing their ears against the most pointed and reiterated warnings, it is difficult to restrain a feeling of indignation. What suffering and misery they have occasioned by their obstinate adherence to a narrow, selfish, worn-out policy! Their cords were rotten, and yet they stretch them and strain them, till now all have gone at once, and rebellion reaches over all the land, and, like the plagues of Egypt, enters every house.

‘ Fune 30th. — The Lord has been dealing graciously. Oh that I would but walk more closely with Him! I wait on God. No sure tidings yet from Delhi. Fresh atrocities and murders. We are brought very low.... fuly 8t2. — There is no safety nor peace but in a close walk with God. Cawnpore fallen, and all destroyed. Gwalior in mutiny. God’s hand is stretched out still, There are the destitute, the fugitive, the mourning, the dying. ... Public affairs still dark, and as yet no gleam of returning light. Want of troops, want of communication, want of energy, want of combination, seem to show that the Lord is hiding His face and holding back His hand. My own future I do not know; but a day in Thy courts is better than a thousand. The opening up of one of Thy faithful words enriches, and strengthens, and feeds me.

‘ Fuly 27th. — Much has passed since I last wrote. In public the massacre of Cawnpore, the death of Sir H. Lawrence,! the

‘1 Some short time before, when our guns were being pointed against

the enemy, Sir Henry called out, ‘Spare the Aoly places.? It was a -

shot from one of these ‘ oly places’ that killed him.

a beleaguerment of Agra, delay at Delhi, etc. Give us peace in this troubled land. Save this town from the danger with which it is threatened. It is but too evident on every hand that the Lord. no longer puts the fear of us on these people. We have taken credit to ourselves for their submission hitherto, and now we find them insolent and insubordinate. Lord, help me to eye Thee in all things, and to humble myself under Thy mighty hand!

‘ Aug. Ath. — Tuesday. — Sabbath was one of the days of the Buchra-Eed,; and a Mohammedan rising was anticipated. We had a body of troops and cannon at the church, and the rest of the town was fully guarded. I enjoyed the day. Yesterday, wearied and sad. To-day, quiet and helped. Still things all over the country look dark and menacing.... 11z2. — A trying, humbling day. I am getting too much engrossed with public affairs. I feel that my only safety in reference to them is to see God’s hand in all, even the strange supineness and infatuation of those who are set over us. They ‘are what they are, and do what they do, or rather do nothing, or at least not at the right time, just because God is against us, and withholds good things from us. I desire grace to look more to the Lord.... 13¢/. — English mail come in. Prepare me for tidings, and let not the old man again get the reins in his mouth through worldly excitement. ... 20¢#. — After a fortnight’s interruption, we have heard from up-country. Things seem improving a little. I trust the tide is beginning to turn, and that the Lord will work deliverance. Delhi still besieged, if siege it can be called, when the enemy is always the attacking party. The fort of Agra still held, and likely to make good its resistance. Lucknow still defended, though in danger. Havelock unable to raise the siege, and returned to Cawnpore. Some progress made in driving the rebels out of Behar. 24¢h. — Monday. — Yesterday was a good day; almost unmingledly so. I was helped, and the word remains with me. The town

1 A Mohammedan festival — ‘ the goat’s feast.’

is all guarded, for it is the Mohurrum; and yesterday a body of troops was in the A/adrissa (college) opposite the church. 30¢. — Sabbath. — Quiet and peaceful. The home letters have come; but they lie unopened, that we may not break God’s day, or distract our minds. 1s¢ Sef/ — We have been carried safely through the Mohurrum; but we have gloomy news from up-country. There seems little hope that Lucknow can stand till it is relieved, and so the sad scenes at Cawnpore will be renewed. I feel sad and sick at heart.’

‘ September 26th. — Sabbath morning. — Many variations of state and feeling. Lord, help me! Make me willing to follow Thee in the way of the cross. I am not wise, nor strong; but may seek to walk in Thy meekness, patience, gentleness. It was specially in suffering that Thou didst accomplish Thy mission. May I not despise the passive graces. Are they not the ripened fruit? What dominion self has over me! At every new emergency I pray, and desire to strive that my thought may not be, “How will it affect my feelings, my intents, my honour?” but, “How will it affect the Lord, His cause, His people, and my fellow-men?” I pray to be delivered by the cross, the constancy and love of the self-forgetting Jesus, and brought under the habitual, entire dominion of love. May I not live oz myself nor for myself; but live on the Lord, and for the Lord.’

1In a letter written in August 1857, he says : — ‘ Last Sabbath I preached, surrounded by bodies of troops, two large cannons at the side of the church loaded with canister shot, and other two further down the street. The Free Church is in the most dangerous quarter, being surrounded by fierce Mohammedans. Their college is on the other side of the street, and their chief mosques close by. All our servants, you know, are natives; so you can conceive what kind of a life it is here at present. Yet we have never felt any fear, and we have never lost an hour’s sleep on account of it. Our sorrow is for the multitudes who are beleaguered, fleeing, wounded, suffering, and dying in circumstances of unspeakable horror.’

The next entry is October roth, ‘On board the “Hindostan,” and losing sight of India.*

Yet of India he never ‘lost sight,’ all the rest of his life through. He thought of it, spoke of it, wrote of it, pleaded for it, prayed for it.2 There was a link between

1I do not enter into the circumstances of his leaving India. Mrs. Milne’s health quite broke down the second time. The medical men were of opinion that she must go to England, and that he must go with her. He gave in his resignation to the Presbytery in March 1857; but remained till October. The following letter from Mr. Hawkins (June 1857) to Mrs. Milne will be read here with interest: — ‘I had heard, before I received your letter, of your proposed removal from Calcutta. It did not surprise me, for I did not expect that your health would stand long in India; and another separation, under such circumstances, was not to be thought of. This is but another movement of 7s gracious hand. J never can regret the part I had in sending your dear dear husband to India. I am as satisfied, as of my own existence, that it was the Lord’s doing. I have never had a wavering thought upon that point; and had he been there only as many days as he has been years, I should have thought and felt the same. Zhere his work is now done, and his Master calls him to another part of the vineyard. True, it is a very solemn step; but taken under His guidance, it caznot be a wrong one. It may be contrary to all your desires and hopes; but I need not tell you that these we are at liberty to indulge, and entertain, only so far as they are in unison with His most gracious will. How sweet, at His bidding, to quench every desire, to bid farewell to every hope, and to move cheerfully and unhesitatingly, just as His finger points, or His eye leads! Your dear husband may yet be the instrument of bringing souls to Christ, in Scotland, or some other field of labour. Cherish the thought, for it will cheer and strengthen you.’

2’’Thus he wrote to his friend Mr. Mackenzie, on the 7th December 1857 : — ‘It has been, and isa real trial to my wife and me, that we were obliged to leave a country where we hoped to live and die. I shall have much to tell you, when we meet, about India. Only those who have been there for some time, and have seen a good deal of it, ro) him and that land which could not be broken. As his home work and. home sorrows had prepared him for India, so had his Indian toil and trials fitted him for his remaining ten years of home work.

His voyage home had nothing special about it, and his record regarding it is brief. All goes on smoothly; he preaches and does some work on board; but he thinks it an ‘idle life ;? he looks homeward, and wonders what work is awaiting him. Thus he muses in pleasant measures : —

‘Too long I have been blinded

By unbelief and sin,

Too long been earthly minded ; — The world has dwelt within.

But now the light has broken
Upon my foolish soul;

My God in love has spoken,
His words have made me whole.

T see the strange enchantment
That led me thus astray,
The hope of full contentment
Still lured me on the way.
I’ve toiled in ceaseless action

For things which never give
True peace and satisfaction
To those who for them live.

— — — — — — — — ne eee

can form an adequate idea how little our century of possession has done for it, either in the way of christianizing its people, or developing its resources. We have merely touched it at a few far distant points, and even there have merely grazed the surface.. The work is still to do, and will require unspeakable faith, patience, prayer, toil, and, above all, the example and converse of living, holy men, freely intermingling with, and enlightening and quickening, the dark, depraved mass,’

I wish no more to follow.
Those images untrue;

No more may mirage hollow,
Present itself to view.

Lord, keep me near the fountain,
Where living waters flow;

And guide me up Thy mountain,
Away from things below.’

And again he sings, as he is sighting the coast of Africa, when about to enter the Red Sea : —

‘A friend I have who never
Forsakes me in my need;
Whose love, continuing ever,
Is proved by word and deed.
He sought me when, in folly,
I wandered far abroad;
To Him I owe it wholly
That now I walk with God.

I often vex and grieve Him
By sinful unbelief;

And oft forget, and leave Him
To seek elsewhere relief.

But when my troubles gather,
And sorrows overpower;

He leaves me not, but rather
Seems kinder than before.

Though now thick clouds enfold me,
Not knowing what awaits,

I’m sure He will uphold me,

In all my trying straits.

I know He will my losses
Convert to heavenly gains,

And He will use my crosses,
To break my earthly chains.’