Residence in Edinburgh, Illness, Return to Glasgow

Fboh the period of his removal to Edinburgh, the biographer’s task becomes comparatively easy. In an uninterrupted series of letters, we find his subsequent history written by his own hand. Henceforth we shall do little more than present a series of extracts from bis letters and journals in the order of their dates. Even where a blank is left in the history, we shall not be very careful to fill it up minutely from other sources. Our object is not to write a narrative of his life, for the events of it were not very remarkable; but to present a picture of his mind. It is not the external history of the scholar and the invalid, but the internal history of the Christian, that we wish to delineate; and that delineation we shall lay before our readers almost wholly in lines traced by his own hand.

The following notice of his removal, dated at Edinburgh, 4th October 1836, is inserted at the end of Ihe book in which he kept a record of his studies at Glasgow: —

‘During the remainder of September I was very Variously occupied. I had to wind up my connection with many societies, to bid farewell to many friends, and to prepare for my remoyal to Edinburgh. Read Walton’s Hooker and Donn, and some other trifles. Expended nearly a week on some domestic concerns. And finally, left Glasgow on Monday the 26th September, for Edinburgh. Settled mjrself in lodgings on Tuesday, and spent the rest of the week chiefly in calling on friends, and copying into short-hand some old notes on the Gospels. Went to Aberdour on Saturday morning, and sojourned there till Monday Returned to Edinburgh on Monday evening, and now (Tuesday) have nearly all arranged for my winters campaign. I mean to keep a statement of all my work in another book, beginning to-morrow. And I pray the Head of all good and holy influence, that I may be enabled, with a new scene, and a new record, and new facilities for labour, to have new dispositions, and more vigorous resolutions, and a more self-renouncing, faithful, and energetic spirit.

^J. H.’

The first entry in the Edinbuigh journal is of the same date, and we insert it to show the spirit in which he commenced his labours there.

Edinburgh, 4th October 1836.

‘I have bought this book, with the purpose of recording in it the amount of labour I perform. By the help of God, I hope that it will not prove so atfully humiliating a document as my former diaries.

* I would commence my work in Edinbtirgh, with the deep — may it be a practical — conviction, that of myself I can do nothing; and with the prayer, that the Strength of Israel would be my strength. May He guide me in the selection of the topics of my studies, in the manner of prosecuting them, in the formation of all my religious opinions, in the cultivation of a religious spirit. May He enable me to redeem the time.

May He anoint me with the Holy Ghost. May He enable me to live near himself, to serve him witn my whole heart, and to be refreshed by his grace. May He have mercy on me, deliver me from myself, and hold me by his right hand. J. H.’

In a letter to his father, dated 6th October, we find a beautiful example of the manner in which he reduced to practice his own strong resolutions about redeeming the time,

I have been doing some little work since I came. Copied a number of notes on the Gospels. Have had a most sickening job in shortening an article of my own for the Presbyterian Review: I am now copying it. I have hit on a new plan of redeeming an odd comer of time, which bids fair. I infuse my own tea, and it stands by the fire 15 minutes before I drink it. During that short space, I have begun committing pass£^es of Scripture to memory. Yesterday I managed the first chapter of Ephesians; this evening (I had some friends at breakfast, and so lost the morning time) I have got ten verses of the second chapter. In this I hope to persevere. I have risen generally between six and seven since I came to Edinburgh.

‘Hoping to hear soon, and wishing you every blessing, I am your affectionate son, J. H.’

Those of his fellow-students who knew him best will read a lesson in this little extract. Of all his acquirements, there was none which excited the admiration of his friends more than the extent and accuracy of his knowledge of the Scriptures. They perceived his acquirements, and set them down to the account of a prodigious memory. His memory was certainly extraordinary; but he was more indebted to his diligence than to it. Of these two elements of

^8 MEMOIR OP JAMES HALLET*

success, the more important is in the power of eyerj one.

The next letter exhibits a feature of his character of which we shall have many examples hereafler an intense feeling of sympathy with his friends, hallowed and solemnized by religion. It is written to a friend in Glasgow who had sent him an account of the death of a young person, a scholar in a Sabbath class.

‘Edinburgh, ISth October 1836.

* My dear A — I owe you many thanks for

your brief appendix to M.’s letter. So simple and unaffected an account of the transition from earth to heaven in one whom I had known, and, so far as I knew, loved, quite melted me. I read it with heart and eyes full. And for several hours after I had perused and reperused it, I wept and prayed by turns,- — imploring a like end for you and myself, and the members of both our classes, and all our friends and brethren, specially those who are either already in the

ministry, or looking forward to its holy labours

It was faith triumphant. And I cannot tell you the complication of feelings which mingled with my tears over it. I hope there was gratitude to the God of all grace, who had brought, as it were, under my own eye, so beautiful an instance of one who knew the power of Christ’s resurrection. We read the strong confiding words of the subjects of formal religious biography often as something romantic and far away from us; and I was, I trust, thankfril and impressed for the Word, in its upholding energy, being thus brought nigh me. There was wonder at so plain an exhibition of what the faith of Christ could do for one in a sphere so humble. And there was deep and bitter humiliation at the thought, that it is not more than three months since I — oppressed often with fears

A believer’s death. 69

of my own state, and seldom, if ever, priyileged to feel that I am reposing on Christ — pretended to teach one who was far abler to teach me in every thing truly spiritual.

I am averse, generally, to a too confident assumption, that those who are gone, are gone to glory. But here I feel no need of guarding my words. Take

them for yourself, and impart to and

the consolation which Paul gives you, — “Them that sleep in Jesus God will bring with him.” And John, —” There shall be no night there!’ Is it not a thought almost too great for us to entertain, — yet one which, through the tender mercy of our God, we may dwell upon, — that, among those who are walking in white, — for the white linen is the righteousness of Christ wherewith the saints are clothed, — is the recent subject of our anxieties and prayers? It is something too mighty for us fully to realize; yet it is true. Dimly as you may see it now in the first fireshness of your sorrow, it must comfort you. And, as unceasing prayer makes it clearer to you, and a more composed mind grasps it more firmly, it will put off your sackcloth, and gird you with gladness. O what an honour to have been an instrument in converting or establishing such a one. For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Your true fiiend, J. H.’

The next letter, addressed to a near relative, explains itself. The statement with which it opens is peculiarly valuable. It is expressed with the utmost simpHcity and tenderness. We are persuaded that very many of our readers will perceive its lesson to be applicable to themselves, and feel the reproof it contains.

* Edinburgh, 2Qth October 1836.

‘My dear, — The postscript of your letter of

last Friday requested me to write you before the sacrament, — a request with which I gladly comply...

70 MEMOIft OF JAttES BALLeV.

‘What I inferred was, that you wished my letter to have some bearing on the approaching dispensation of the holy Supper. I feel very unable to advise you ,* so greatly do I feel that I stand in need of counsel myself. It is the more difficult for me to say anything seasonable, as, from feelings which were natural, but by no means vindicable, you and I, dear as we are to each other, have never conversed much about the things of our peace. True; I have sometimes tried silently to turn your thoughts that way by putting books into your hands; but the constraint of neUurej and our inborn aversion to speak of eternity, or to think of it, have kept us from pouring out our souls to each other in famiHar converse. Probably, a great reason of this reserve on my part, was — my fear that counsel coming from me might have its ge taken off by some unguarded ebullition of temper, or some particular in conduct, quite inconsistent with the sincerity of a Christian profession. This reason did not exist in reference to my class, so to them I cotdd speak freely; but to you, who knew and saw me narrowly, I was naturally, but criminally, afraid to do so. I would like now, by the help of God, to make up for thus failing in the highest office of brotherly love; and I have all along contemplated it as one of the advantages to be obtained by living at a distance, that I could rise, in writing, to that freedom for which I had not fortitude in speech. Ought it not to be reason of deep humiliation to us both, that this best intercourse is so late in beginning, that we have given such provocation to the Son of man to be ashamed of us when he comes in his glory.

‘The preparation of the heart in man is from the Lord; and it is not many minutes since, when you were engaged in the forenoon service, I was entreating Him that you might have it. Our great duty, then, is to seek to the Lord with confession and supplications. Daniel’s prayer, in the ninth chapter of his iPREPARATtON FOtl TfiE COMMUNION. 71

prophecy, may be seasonable. Some of the Psalms, such as the 78th, which speak of Israel’s backslidings, ma J help us to conceive the heinousness of our own; and they may profitably be followed up by some such entreaties as those in the 79th Psalm. We can never go wrong in reading and meditating on the 51st, and the IdOth. In fact, we must be humbled; for receiving Christ truly is called, in Scripture, a submitting to his righteousness, and God deigns to dwell only with him that is humble. That our transgressions should be ever before us, is a needful preliminary to our being made to hear joy and gladness.

‘But we must not stop here; and we ought to be instant in prayer for each other that we may not stop here. A true view of sin, indeed, always involves a reference to Christ. If we are not at first enabled to mourn for our sins as his crucifiers — for our convictions are generally, in the first instance, selfish — we are at all events brought to see our need of him, and soon learn to view our sins in the light of his cross; Let us both strive to do this — to look unto him — exalt him in our view as a perfect Deliverer — and throw ourselves upon his work and free mercy. This is no easy thing: I am often fearfully apprehensive that I have never achieved it. I hope you have done it in simplicity, and can sometimes enjoy the comfort of it. Still we must not regard this comfort as the test and measure of our fitness to sit down at his table. Oh, it is a great thing to have it; for then how joyful might we expect to be made in his house of prayer! But he may give us, in the ordinance, a comfort which we could not bring to it. And the great question to settle in going, is — whether we see ourselves to be utterly lost without Christ, and are mUing now to commit our souls to him in well-doing. If we are not willing to do this, then we have no right to assume the badge of discipleship. But although we have not warm affections, — although we have many doubts and fears, — yet, if we have hnngering desires after Christ and salvation, and a real willingness to be the Lord’s in covenant, we may come, — and the larger the expectations we come withy the better, — Your affectionate y J. H/

The two following letters, both addressed to one person, are wholly occupied with an effort to minister consolation to a wounded spirit. They combine the solid doctrinal instruction which you expect in an elaborate treatise, with the ease and freshness which you expect in a familiar epistle to an intimate frigid.

Edinbubgh, Zlst October 1836.

‘My dear, — I have this moment received

your mournful letter of Thursday last. I feel most deeply that to such a case I cannot speak; for I am a child

‘Generally, I would say, — cherish your convictions of personal guilt and ruin; but endeavour, by prayer for the Spirit’s guidance to Christ, for a sight of the Saviour in his fulness, for a believing view of him as the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world, to escape from that dark despondency which now involves you. I would not put your soul in peril by speaking soft things, much as I long and pray for your release from the spirit of bondage. Yet I may lawfully, in the hope that the Divine Comforter will turn it to good account, remind you that i/our case is no new one, and often before has the mejcy of God been signalised in the deliverance of those who had been so compassed about with his terrors, as to think almost that he had forgotten to be gracious. Read the 88th Psalm, the few last verses of the 31st, and the 77th, with prayer or (if you will not call it so) with such poor, yet earnest cryings to God as your heart can utter. Then, after you have seen what others felt under legal terror, try next and see what was their hope: with this view, read that most evangelical Psalm, the 89th, and the precious declarations of Divine compassion in the 86th. Never lose hope while these remain. Then turn to Christ, and see if it is not ?k faithful sayings and worthy of all accepta* tion, that Jesus Christ came into the worid to save sinners, — even the chief Remember Paul, who was a hlasphemer, and a persecutor, and injurious, whom Stephenjp dying words did not move, — yet who is now before the throne. But you will say that you cannot realize to yourself the faithfulness of this saying, nor feel that Christ came to save you. It were a glorious privilege if you could, — and we must daily aim at it; but remember, that our warrant to come does not lie in our own states, but in Christ’s free offer. Do you feel that you are the chief of sinners? labouring and heavy laden with guilt? having your whole head sick, and heart faint? Then svh as you Christ came to save. Grasp at the promise; and, while you look to your own exceeding sinfulness to lay you very low before God, look still more to Christ’s sufficiency of atonement and grace. Isaiah xlv. 22; John iii. 14, 15. Do not ask,” Am I believing V at least, do not ask that yet; that will come afterwards; but look to Him and be saved.

Our convictions are almost all in the first instance legal. By stedfast looking at your own sins, and prayer for the true use of the Spirit’s office, John xvi. 8, 13, try to get impressed on your contrition the <^aracter of having respect to all sin, in its defilement as well as consequences, — of leading you to Christ, — and, above all, of a deep and permanent feeling of imworthiness and self-renouncement. There is yet good hope in Israel concerning this thing. I rejoice in your expression that you have nothing, and stand in need of every thing. Cherish that feeling, but let it not be alone. Add to it those brought out in the 121st Psalm. I cannot enough impress on you the

E necessity of letting the hideous spectacle which erery inward look discloses, lead you to turn your eyes on the Just One, We declare unto you glad tidings. — Yours, &c. J. H/

* Edikbitboh, 8tk November 1836.

‘My dear, — You had no need of making

any excuse for writing me by post. It will be long before I complain of receiving too many letters from you.

‘I need scarce say, that I had anticipated the request you made; and that, though no such request had come, it was my determination to have made your case a subject of special prayer at the Lords Table. I am now happy to tell you, that I never enjoyed so refreshing a communion, and never had my soul so much drawn out to intercede for others. Your condition, indeed, is never out of my mind; I cannot tell you how often I recur to it every day in the way of ejaculation for your good; and it was my first, and best, and most earnest request on Sabbath — yea, my very heart’s desire and prayer — that you might be saved. And I may add, that, amid the heaviness and sorrow of heart which the dark character of your letter caused me, I was cheered by the thought that surely the Lord had not forgotten to be gracious, and that he meant oiu: present intercourse for good. With, I think your present convictions cannot be of Satan; although I have no doubt it is his policy to tinge them with despair. Do try to preserve all that is essential in them; and, by the Word of God and prayer (for I know no other means), to keep up the impression that you are by nature a child of wrath. But oh! do not dissever this impression from a view of Christ as the author of eternal salvation, and of the promise of the Spirit’s working to cleanse you from all your pollution. ‘’ From all your filthiness, and from sdl your idols, I will cleanse. A new heart, also, will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you.” “He hath receired gifts for men, even for the rebelliottSy that the Lord God might dwell among them.”

* You tell me I have mistaken your case. Very possibly I may; for the heart is deceitful above all things, who can know it? And if we cannot imderstand our own errors, it is little wonder that we misapprehend one another’s frames. Yet, if I remember what I wrote (hasty as it was), I think it contained some such general references to divine truth in Christ JesuSy as might be useful in any case of dejection. Adam, the author of the “Private Thoughts,” which you have seen, a man of singular Christian experience, speaks strongly of the evil of dwelling on sin apart from Christ; and this was just the thought which, however weakly, I wished to bring before you. You cannot think too much of your sin, its vileness, its ingratitude, its desperate folly; it should be ever before you; but by no means allow yourself to rest here; pray for strength to lift up your eyes to the brazen serpent, however feebly or languidly at first, yet in. some way to lift them, and look to the Holy Spirit for, opening your eyes, and giving earnestness and intensity to your gaze at the Saviour. True, those whom I mentioned had deep spiritual views of sin; but did their views of it begin so? if not, the same gracious Power that deepened theirs may deepen yours, and make them the means of leading you to Jesus. There is danger of your sullenly resting in your present feelings. Why will you not know that the Gospel is djoyfid sound — glad tidings of great joy?

‘You say you do not despond enough. I would rather say, you are not humbled enough; and therefore you despond too much. You are out of humour that you can find no righteousness in yourself; and have not learned against hope to believe in hope — to submit yourself to the righteousness of Christ. Yet

IfS MEMOIB OF JAMES HALLBY.

to this submission we must come: “Lord, help me, or I perish.” And then Christ, full of grace and truth, replies, “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?”

‘You did not rave when you wished for a place at — — ’s feet. What are you, which she once was not? Was she not lost, although now in her Father’s house? Is the Lord’s hand shortened? or his ear heavy? No; he still says, “I have seen his ways,” evil, rebel-Uous ways, “and will heal him.” Your expression, that you are “hell- doomed” pierced me through with many sorrows. Believe me, it is the result of pride; *’ hell-deserving “was the right word. I want the fact expressed by this last word to be deeply impressed on you: “Father, I have sinned, and am not worthy to be called thine;” but remember the Fathers answer To use the other word, is to blame your Maker: fer be this from you.

‘You speak of, and say,” If the righteous

scarcely,” &c. Yes; it is a solemn truth. Where will you or I appear without Christ? But who made her or any one righteous? “The Lord our righteousness.” Why not “our righteousness?” Is it that heaven is full? or grace exhausted? or Satan more mighty than the Captain of our salvation?

“You are unwilling, alas! to read or pray. “The ^irit also helpeth our infirmities.” If you knew the grace of Him who sends that Spirit, you would call on him. “Before they call, I will answer; while they are yet speaking, I will hear.” You will perhaps say that these promises are not for you; they are for all who can lay hold on them, — or rather, to all who will come to him in whom they are yea and amen; and him that cometh he will in no wise cast out.

* My dear, I am very inexperienced, and almost

terrified at my own boldness in advising you at all. But I have not done it without prayer; and I hope the words I speak are not my own.

‘In fine, think of these words: “Ye haye sold yourselves for nought,” to how profitless a service; “but ye shall be redeemed without money!* Don’t wait away fi-om Christ till you become better and “worthier to go; but go to him that you may be made better. — Ever yours, J. H/

From the 5th of October, the day on which he commenced his studies in Edinburgh, there is a tabular record of the occupations of every day and every hour* The very sight of the thickly-studded pages is enough to show any one that it is the diary of a laborious student; but he continued to be dissatisfied with his progress. Of date the 27th November, there is a break in the columns, and the following is inserted: —

«(

Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground.” Acknowledging how justly this sentence might have gone forth against me, and praising that grace which has hitherto spared me amidst unparalleled unfiruit- ness, I have sat down this evening seriously to consider my ways. The record contained in the preceding pages might give ample grounds for the humiliation of a whole lifetime. I pray that God the Spirit would use it, and all my past shortcomings, as the means of making me truly broken and contrite in heart. And now, after solemnly requesting His guidance, and in dependence on His strength alone for the fulfilment of my resolutions, in order, for the future, to walk more worthily of my calling as an aspirant to the holy ministry, I resolve,

* 1. To read through the entire Scriptures,. — the New Testament in Greek, — in six months, beginning firom Monday next the 21st November.

* 2. To read, with special prayer, every Monday morning (when at home), the Scripture denunciations which I have collected against indolence.

‘3. To ‘be occupied in study eight hours eveiy day

78 MEMOIR OF JAMES HA£Lk<.

(except Saturday, on which some relaxation ma be taken), exclusivelj of the stje hours devoted to classes and teaching; or, failing the eight hours, at least to come as near it as sitting tillbtr in the morning will make me.

’ 4. To beware more of the snare of visiting.

5. To endeavour habitually to remember that “the time is short,” and that ^’ outer darkness” is reserved for the servant who buries his talent.

‘These things, by God’s help, I promise to do.

* J. h;

The following letter, addressed to a former fellow-student, we insert nearly entire.

* Aberdour, 26th November 1836.

‘My dear James, — Your letter of the 11 th reached me on Wednesday the 1 6th. It is not from want of earnest desire that I have not answered it sooner; but, having bound myself to do a certain amount of work, I have never found the tale accomplished, till the morning was so far advanced, that I knew you would much rather want a letter than have it so imtimeously written. To-day, however, being Saturday, I have fairly escaped from Edinburgh and labour; and, after walking to South Queensferry from Edinburgh, and from North Queensferry to Aberdour, enjoying a while of Chalmers, and drinking tea at the manse, I find myself with some minutes at command, and to you I cheerfully devote them.

‘And, first, after thanking you for your letter generally, I have to thank you especially for your dietetic hints. Sorry I need them. The one which vetoes medicines I have been obliged sadly to transgress....

Next, as to the more important matter of mental health. My progress in reading has been sadly retarded by this conversion of my stomach into a kind of medicine chest. However, since I came to Edinburgh, I have read, ““Whewell’s Br. Treatise” (twice);

CX>URSE OF READING. 79

Chalmers Works,” vol. 3 (half twice); “Memoir of Maiy Jane Graham” (twice); “Bagot and Porter s Discussion” (cursorily); “Adam’s Private Thoughts” (carefully); “M’Laurin s Sermon on Glorying,” &c.; ‘’Swift’s Sermon on the Trinity;” “Melvill” (nearly all); “Owen on the Person of Christ;” half a volume of “Atterhury;” “Cooke and Ritchie’s Discussion;” and some parts of “Dods on the Incarnation,” “HalFs Contemplations,” and “Calvin’s Institutes on the Supper.” I was much struck with “Mary Jane Graham” and “Adam” as practical hooks. Speculatively, “Owen” is good, but very lumbering; yet 1 am sensible of having got some new ideas by reading him. “Dods” is the noblest work I have looked into for many a-day; I do not know where I have seen such massive and satisfying theology, — although on some minutiae I differ from him. I am sorry and ashamed to say that I have not yet overtaken “Pye Smith’s Scripture Testimony,” and “Wardlaw on Socinianism.” I find I get on very slowly and very languidly. I do not know when, even in regard to a decent knowledge of systematic divinity, I shall be at all fit to preach; and every thing else is wanting. I aave written nothing but a sort of pastoral letter to the class in Calton, — making the main subject C.’s death, which impressed me more than any thing I recollect. ‘I am delighted to learn, although it was no more than I expected, that all went so well about your steps towards settlement I shall have the greatest pleasure in observing the time you mention for prayer and aevout exercises, in connection with your trying circumstances. The truth is, intercession for you and niy other friends and brethren is the only enjoyment I have that can be called spiritual; and I gladly embrace the opportunity. Otherwise, I am fearfully dull and dead; in this exercise, I often feel. On our communion Sabbath I hope I felt a good deal. I ay mention, that every Sabbath evening, at half so MEMOIR OF JAMES HALUSY.

past eight, heing the time when Morrison maj be expected to commence his prayer before dismissing the class, I engage in prayer for them. I shall be happy to learn that you can often join me. then in prayer for them, — but especially for myself, that the Lord may have mercy upon me, according to his loying-kindness, and either purify me for his service, or withhold me altogether from touching the ark. Hore and more I find my need of your prayers....

* I breakfasted (solus) with Dr Chalmers on Thursday. As we walked up together to College, — the class hour is eleyen, — he invited me to come ofen at nine o’clock. I made, as in duty bound, some excuse about his time; aunc svstr gag/Csr, “I’ll not let you off in that way, — 111 propose a minimum to you; you must come at least once a-week.” So you see, wonders have been eflfected, either by my knowledge of what has been doing in Glasgow by Collins, &c., or by Mr Colquhoun’s introduction.

* Monday last, I heard Sir ^’s introductory, — “On the -Advantages of Metaphysical Study.” Clearly and elegantly written, and sometimes profound in thought. Especially was I pleased with his proof, that mental cultivation is better than mere knowledge of facts, — that “the chase is always better than the game.” Two things in the lecture I heard with horror. First, after a flourish about the fact that metaphysics is the only science in which Scotland has given its name to a school, whom did he pitch on as the great renovator of the science, and founder of that school? Why — David Hume, And for what reason? Because his scepticism drew out master minds in reply. Ergo by this most logical professor s ratiocination, Priestly was the great founder of modern Trinitarianism, because he gave occasion to Horsley to demolish him. Secondly, he laid down, broadly and imequivocally, the principle, that man, in regard to temporal things, is, and ought to be, his own end, ....

* In fine, “I commend you to God, and to the word of bis grace,” as the best evidence of mj warm affection. — Ever yours in love, J. H.

* R&p. James Stevenson*

The above letter contains the first distinct intimation of bis illness. At that date there was no pulmonary inflammation, but there was a continued derangement of the functions of the stomach, aggravated bj hard study, which was secretly generating an incurable disease. Even at this time, some of his fiiends became apprehensive, and counselled a relaxation of study; but he continued till long afiter to be insensible of danger. He did not take alarm till too late for retreat. His imprudence in this matter, and its consequences, add another to the many warnings addressed to ardent students by the mistakes of those who precede them; but we shall afterwards have an opportunity of expressing it in his own words.

The distinct testimony which this letter contains regarding the enjoyment to be derived from intercessory prayer, is worthy of special notice. In connection with the promise so warmly expressed, we are enabled to insert, from a letter of a later date, addressed to the same person, the following notice of the manner in which it was fulfilled: —

* I attended to your request in regard to Christmas day. I devoted from seven to nine to meditation and prayer connected with your settlement. To fill my mind with your wants, I read Psalm cxxxii. and most of the Epistles to Timothy, with some sections of “Bridges* Christian Ministry,” and then endeavoured to spread your case before God. I hope you have been laiely watered with the dews of the Spirit, and that

82 HBMOm OF JAMES HALLET.

hitherto you haye been upheld and strengthened even beyond adl our asking. You find a place in my daily prayers, and I hope I am not forgotten in yours.’

The sufferings of his friends made a deep impression on his heart, and never failed to draw forth the warmest sympathy. The first part of the following letter has reference to a family mourning the illness and approaching death of a child: —

* Edtnburoh, 15ih December 1836.

‘My dear C, — Your letter of Monday last reached me on Tuesday morning. Its mournful announcement and request affected me much. I need not say how willingly I immediately complied with your solicitation

* You and Mrs B. will pardon my suggesting one single thought. If the child is removed, I would try to do away repining by a look at the experience of Jacob. ‘* All these things,” said he, ‘’ are against me ;** yet, at that very moment all were for him. His Joseph lived; and Benjamin’s removal was but the earnest of his own entrance on the rich land of Goshen. Let your kind-hearted friend, if she should ever feel inclined to adopt Jacob’s complant, consider the reality of his case, and endeavour (it is a noble exercise of faith) to trust that all is for her. Let her dwell on the thought. The very dwelling on it may be part of God’s means forgiving it reality. Her views of duty in regard to her remaining children may thus acquire impressiveness; and a mighty influence may be exercised on them, if they but see their mother comforted, day by day, in the midst of her sorrow, with the hope, that their sister’s death may give a commencement or a powerful impulse (as the case may be) to their spiritual life. The Lord grant that her sorrow may thus be turned into joy! May the stroke (if it has indeed fallen), and may its near approach (if it has not), be made the means of adding to all that is lovel j in that most interesting family, the worth and beauty of character which belongs to those who know that they have here no continuing city, and are truly seeking one to come.

Pray excuse the brokenness of these hints and wishes. If they cannot testify to wisdom and spiritual understanding and discretion, they will at least bear witness to my concern. One thing more. When the result is known, whether favourable or unfavourable, let me know it; it will give point and application to those prayers, which I hope not soon to interrupt or abandon. And pray, for my sake, and for the sake of the Church of which I am to be a minister, give me also some account of what you are doing to stimu late me, or some hints to guide me, or (what most of all I need) some incitements and directions in the cultivation of practical godliness

* I was much refreshed by what I saw of my old class. I met them three times, — on Friday the 2d, Sabbath the 4th, and Friday the 9th. The two Friday meetings were about a little society in aid of missions which they were forming among themselves. They kindly left its full organization to be accomplished in honour of my visit. I got a glimpse just, in the hand of one of them, of a pastoral letter which I had sent them, and was pleased to see it was well thumbed. So they have not quite forgotten me....

‘Moreover, when in Glasgow, I did about the most melancholy thing that ever I did in my life. I addressed a meeting, from the chair of the College Missionary Society, for the last time. The first public meeting was made in time to catch me in the west; and I actually took farewell, with feelings of humiliation and regret utterly indescribable, of one of the best-beloved scenes of labour I ever entered. The meeting was not large — about fifty; but some of the Bpeech,es were very noble. My own situation, as speaker there for the kist time was somewhat affecting; and in touching (as was my castom as president) on some of their topics, and alluding to my own long farewell, I was more thoroughly overcome than I recollect ever to have been. I had some comfort in feeling that I was not alone Your ever affectionate J. H/

Not one, we believe, of the fifty who constituted that meeting, will have any difficulty in recalling the scene, when this notice of it meets his eye. They are widely scattered now. Some of them are missionaries in different parts of the world. From that little meeting, two or three at least have already gone to preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ. The speeches truly were noble; for it had pleased God at that time to fill with missionary zeal some of the most gifted minds among the youth of the university, and the society presented the noblest field on which learning and eloquence could be allowed to expatiate. We feel assured, that not one of these fifty will ever come to regard that meeting as “full of danger to his character and usefulness;” but that each, from the station which Providence has assigned him, will look back to it as a season both of pleasure and of profit — a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.

From a very miscellaneous letter, written in a lively ^uniliar style, to a fellow-student, we extract several items that throw light upon this period of his history. The members of the College Missionary Society at Glasgow had requested him to write the draft of an address, which they intended to print and circulate among the students. It is this address that is refeired to at the beginning of the letter.

* Edinburgh, 2O>2l0e Dee, 1836.
* Three o’clock, a.m.

‘My dear Morrison, — Your parcel came on Saturday, and was given to Hamilton same night. He is well, and has written a most racy article on Buckland, which you’ll see in January’s Presbyterian Review. His mother, &c., are all well; glad to hear of your happiness; and hugely amused with my account of your nightly incarceration. The address, so cruelly demanded by you, I have written, et voila. It has one advantage, viz., that it keeps quite clear of the former ones. You, and I suppose every body, will set it down as a weak and rather impudent effort at homethrusting. If that is the general opinion, bum it without ceremony

‘As soon as possible, after getting this, go to Grreat Hamilton Street. Tell my sister that, in laying out my hours for to-day (which, by the way, Jussu Todd’s Student’s Guide — a noble book — I am trying to do every night for next day), I inserted two whole hours for writing her a long letter, and one hour for the address, of which I thought I had the matter so well concocted, that I had no more to do than write it off. But when I began, hei mihi! qualis erat, quantum mutatus ah illo! I mused, burned, erased, altered — needed to write a second copy; in short, have been at it from half-past nine, when I finished my tea after coming in from teaching, to this most untimeous hour. Although not the least sleepy — as my handwriting may witness — I am too much jaded to write her as I would like; so, with this apology, ask her to be patient till next week, when I shall have an opportunity. I might have told her all this, and what follows, in a separate note; but I chose to give it you, that the family in Great Hamilton Street might be cheered by a visit from you. Say, too, that I must have my alarum clock.... Anent the packing of the clock, T. will put the pendulum into his trunk or carpet-bag. As for the rest, if Janet thinks it will be secure enough sewed up in a hit of pack-sheet, good and well. If not, she must get the wright, meis sumptibtUy to make a rickety deaJ-box for it

‘You ought certainly to renew your assault upon Blackwood. For condemning evidence against it, read any of the late articles on Alcibiades, which may be taken quite as a sample of the work, for I learn

they are from ^’s own pen. I look back with

great pleasure to the part I took about Blackwood.

‘By the by, what think you? I am not so unpopular every where as in Glasgow Divinity Hall. In my absence, on Thursday the 8th, I was chosen a curator of the Edinburgh Theological Library. The law is, that Dr Chalmers proposes 36, from whom the students select 6. At the top of Chalmers’ list. Uterismajusculis stood — James Halley. And, in the vote, the two highest were — Smeaton, 81; Halley, 80. Am’t.the Edinburgh folks really p/Xoei’o/?

‘Moreover, during my absence I was elected a member of committee of the missionary society. This is to be no sinecure. The society is not known in college. To make it so, I proposed an address. Of course, I was named to write it, on the plan of giving every man who devises a good thing the trouble of working it. Item I have been hooked in for an essay, the man who was appointed last year for it not being at hand. It is to be read on Saturday, 7th January. Subject — “The promotion of religion at home no reason for neglecting foreign missions.” If I write these two articles as slowly as I have done your Glasgow address, I shall have little else to do for a fortnight.

‘We have succeeded in forming a prayer-meeting. We meet, for the first time, next Saturday night at eighty in my room. You will not forget us in your meeting; and I, who am to open ours, will not foiget you..., ’ “With kindest loye to all, and scarcelj any headache, even now at four o’clock, — ^I am ever yours affectionately, J. H.

* JSfr James Morrison*

This letter exhibits a most lamentable want of care in regard to the preservation of his health. Already he had got severe warnings; but the moment the illness passed, he seems to have been insensible of danger. It is most melancholy to trace these records of the process by which his health was undermined, — sad to find a student by his candle from eleven in the evening to four — the very period which Providence provided and intended for the stillest rest and most refreshing sleep — and writing, meantime, in a strain of playfulness about an alarum clock, as an artificial means of counteracting the tendency — in these circumstances necessarily strong — to sleep when the morning is advanced. All this, too, with ‘•Todd’s Student’s Guide* in his hand! Bought wisdom may be good; but, alas! in such a case, the buyer does not get the benefit of it. He has paid too high a price.

The following reflections in a letter to his sister, dated 2d January 1837, acquire a melancholy interest from subsequent events. Now that he has been laid with the clods of the valley, it is pleasing to find that he cherished such thoughts, and so tenderly expressed them, before he had any apprehension of an early departure: —

* So poor is gone, the chief companion

of our infancy. Do you know I am often led to think very mournfully of the departure of some of our nearer stays. I can hardly bear the thought, which often occurs to me, that, in the common course

88 MEMOm OF JAMES HALLET.

of providence, T must by and by lay my father s heaJ in the grave. Only one thing half reconciles me to it, that I do believe it would kill him to lay mine there. And yet, if I were sure of my own peace being made with God, I could contentedly lie down with the clods of the valley to-morrow, provided it would detach him in some degree from his fond idolatry for his children, and lead him to lean, entirely and implicitly on a mightier arm.... He is now an old man — sixty next Sabbath-day. Let me send him, with an earnest prayer, as his birth-day present, these texts of Scripture, — and may the Holy Spirit give the commentary: — Isaiah xxxviii. 18, 19; xlvi. 4; Psalms lxxi. 18-20; lxxiii. 26; xcii. 13, 14.*

The following letter will explain itself: —

‘Edikburoh 26tA January 1837.

‘My dear John, — Many thanks for your kind attention to my interrogations and commissions

Very thankftd for your hints on Forgandenny; only they were too few. Your journal I hope some day to

see. Isn’t a fine specimen of a humorous,

quietly-sarcastic, sensible, kind old Scotchman? He is intensely Scotch, — quite a Perthshire rgrr/^.,..

‘Your questions in theology are happily so indefinite, that it does not much wound my conscience to postpone answering them. ... To confess the truth, I am not able to answer either. I have not yet studied Heb. ix. 28 with any care; although, on a superficial view, I am disposed to take “sin” quite literally. On verses 16 and 17, I could scarce say what view I advocated in my essay, — so completely does one forget, for general use the knowledge acquired only for a special purpose. But 1 have often been miraculously brought out in debate, when, if set up versus nobody, I could not have spoken three minutes. So here, if you tell me any objection to my views, any difficulty I have left untouched, or, if touched, left

TRAININQ FOR THE MINISTBY. ^9

immitigated, very probably I may get something to say.

‘The other subject you mention, I feel to be very momentous, and can only wonder at your asking me about it, when you had A. and M. beside you, who are so far my seniors in Christian wisdom. However, since you hare sent so far for suggestions, I shall do what I can; and if you find you knew it all before, the coincidence of opinion will at least fortify you*

‘From what you say, I understand there is no* outward obstacle to your friend’s engaging in the preparatory studies for the ministry; and the cause of God in our land has much need of the directest aid that can be rendered by any one “of respectable talents and good principles.” I regard this destination, then, as a priori desirable. The main point, in order to render it desirable in the present case and circumstances is the nourishing of these “serious impressions” you mention into something deep and decided. Let this be your great aim, to lend your friend what aid you can towards being truly a Christian, and then you can urge him to devote himself to the life and work of a minister,

‘Now, for the promotion of this grand object, you will of course direct him especially to “that Light which lighteneth every man that cometh into the world,” of the spiritually born. For a subordinate help, you will find a very good, because a very serious and a very short one, in “James’s Anxious Inquirer Directed and Encouraged,” — a small publication of the London Tract Society, which I have looked into with great pleasure. This will help to give substance and definiteness to his views. If more of this kind of reading is felt to be desirable, I should feel inclined to point him next to “Guthrie’s Christian’s Great Interest,” — a book remarkable for its plain and home-coming character. * After “Guthrie,” it might be well to warm him with “Baxter s Saint’s Rest.”

*’ One remark on the manner of reading these. I feel, often, perhaps generally, in reading practical works, that I do it in a kind of professional way. I mark the suitableness to a common mind of the waj in which this or that truth is presented, and the foroei of this or that appeal; and, instead of applying it (as is my ostensible object) to my own soul, I resolre, forthwith, to use it some day for behoof of the souk of others. Thus, fifty times in a single sitting at prac* tical*and experimental works, I find myself reading for others rather than myself. Meantime, my own soul is starved, while I am filling my barns with the choicest of the wheat for my neighbours. The same e?il appears in a dififerent form at other times, — in an attempt to get up some state of feeling which is proper to me as a minister, rather than to cultivate it as a thing necessary for me as a sinner seeking salvation. Against this you must warn your friend. Let him beware of getting up (6)g e/^s/v) certain emotions as due to his views, hjrpothetical as these may be, of the sacred office. Let him forget, for a time, 3ie thought of his professional destination, and read solely as a sinner seeking a Saviour.

* Should his views of sin and of Christ become so decided, as to lead him to more direct intentions as to the ministry, then the books for him are “Baxter s Reformed Pastor,” and “Bridges* Christian Ministry;” — “Baxter,” if he is not very patient and industrious, but impressible; “Bridges,” if he can be brought to read a book of detail, — both, if he would have impulse and detail united.

‘But, more than mere reading on the subject directly do I judge it important to give him some practical notion of the kind of work to which the ministry would bind him, — some taste of the pleasure of doing good. If he is not a Sabbath school teacher, you cannot too soon make him one. Any comfort and success he may enjoy will be worth a thousand arguments; and, although the want of these ought not to turn one away, yet their presence, when graciously given, will be felt as sweet earnests of usefulness in a higher sphere, and as obligations to go on in the attempt to occupy it.

* Once more, you would do him good by placing him, if not there already, under an energetic and affecting ministry. Those that strike me most are,

Any of these ministers

would profit such a one much; which of them to recommend, you will fix from considering his temperament.

* And now, you will say that I bind heavy burdens, and grievous, on your friend’s shoulders, while, with my own fingers I would not touch them. Alas! the truth is, I have not touched them. But the advice may be sound, although the adviser has been too much a trifler to profit even by his own contemplations.

‘And yt, what need have we to avoid this trifling. I do little enough when fully able; but since I last wrote you, I have been able for little or nothing. From Wednesday the 4th to Saturday the 7th January, I was confined to the house by cold, and sore throat and chest, not very bad, but so bad that I durst not go out. Under it, however, I had to write half my missionary essay, which went off very well on the Saturday morning to about 100 people. Then, next week I wrote a sermon. On the 17th, my birth-day, I had planned some great doings; when lo! two days after, back came, with double force, this influenza, and I have been two whole days and three halves in bed. I am now quite convalescent; but absolutely prostrate in strength, and am working little or none. Very thankful that all cough is gone, and nothing wrong but weakness. One practical lesson I learnt, — the inefficacy of death-bed repentance. Even with my slight illness I tried to think, but absolutely cotUd not. It will be madness, if, with this Jelt ejpperience I do not work while it is day, — Yours ever, J. H. ‘Mr John Mackaa:

It appears from this letter that application had been made to Mr Halley for advice regarding a young person who was inclined to devote himself to the mini try. The fact of such an application having been made to one so young, shows the high estimation in which his judgment was held by his friends; and we are persuaded, that none who read the letter will think their confidence misplaced. The counsel he gives should be pondered by those who aspire to the office of the ministry; and even those who have already entered into the office may gather instruction from it. The young man alluded to died soon afiter.

As a specimen of the style of Mr Halley’s more, formal compositions on a religious subject a portion of the missionary essay referred to in the above letter will be inserted in the Appendix.* It has somewhat of an academic tone; and right that it should, seeing it was written for a society exclusively composed of students. Scholars will perceive a chaste and simple eloquence pervading it; the uneducated reader will have no difficulty in understanding its argument; and Christians of every class will feel it a warm effusion of love to men, from a heart that is constrained by the love of Christ. We shall also insert entire the sermon referred to in the foregoing letter, t

With reference to the illness mentioned at the close of the last letter, the following entry appears in the journal, of date 27th January 1837: —

* Appendix, B. f lb., C.

* Seing now, by Divine mercjr, recovered from ill- 3iess, and seeing a serious need for amendment, and more zealous labour, — especially seeing that I have bitlierto neglected my promised study of Socinianism, I deem it right to engross the following intentions (with the name of resolutions I dare not dignify any of my designs): —

* 1. To rise daily as soon as may be after 7.

’ 2. For the sake of health, to walk at least an hour before breakfast.

* 3. Always to retire by 1 a.m.

* 4. To make it my endeavour, five days a- week, to study 7 hours, besides class and teaching.

’ 5. To be more regular in adhering to stated times for prayer; 7, or soon after, in the morning; 11 at night, or such others as experience may show to be preferable, — only to be regular

* C. As I have promised to write on the Person of Christ in the Presbyterian Review for May, I must read largely on it. To this, almost exclusively, I propose to devote the ensuing seven weeks, from, Jtiondaif SOth January to Saturday Qth March,

* 7- For the Presbytery of Edinburgh I must also prepare a homily on Rom. viiL 1. On this I would like to consult Brown of Wamphray, Fraser of All- ness, Henry; and read Rawlin on Justification, and the Lime Street Lectures on Justification and Sanctification. This must be done at little sections and comers of time; but it must be done by February 22. Therefore ou;^ iha ax/nri, S^Eudo/^sy, syxovu/itv. The cause is noble; the man most impotent. May he be merely an instrument in a mightier hand. May the Holy Spirit, the fountain of grace and truth, lead, guide, and strengthen me with might according to his glorious power.’

In an entry of a later date, it is recorded, that the unexpectedly early publication of the Presbyterian

Review rendered it unnecessary at that time to write on Socinianism. From other records, it appears that he had read largely on that subject, and taken many notes. He contemplated a very elaborate article; but having deferred the execution of it at that time for the reason just stated, he was never afterwards able to resume it.

Notwithstanding the announcement of recovery contained in the preceding extract, it appears from the journal that he never enjoyed good health during the whole of that winter and spring. The account of his daily labour is frequently interspersed with notices of interruptions from headache. The following may be inserted as a specimen of the short notices which frequently occur: —

Sabbathy26ih FAruary 1837. ‘Forenoon, North Leith: Mr Buchanan on John xvii. 9, first clause. Afternoon and evening, — could neither go out, nor read, nor meditate, nor (alas!) collect my thoughts to pray, by headache.

‘J. H.’

At this period there occurs another of those eager pleadings addressed to a person in a state of spiritual despondency, of which we have already given several examples. It is no piece of composed theology. The reader will perceive at a glance, that his whole soul was in it. In combination with strict doctrinal accuracy, there is the most tender affection, and a wrest-

* How fleeting these tabernacles! They appear for a rerjr little time, and then vanish away. May there be to me, through Christ, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. Amen.

COUNSEL TO ANXIOUS INQUtREBS. 95

ling eagerness of appeal. It contains ’ thoughts that breathe, and words that bum, on a subject which ought to animate the heart, and fire the tongue of man — even the Ufe of a brother s soul. The book referred to is ‘James’s Anxious Inquirer.’

‘Edinbuboh, 2Sih February 1837.

* My dear, — Partly from engagements, neces-’

sarily imdertaken to interest A, and let him see

as many good things as I could, — and partly from headache, which has returned on me in some force, I hare been prevented from sooner taking pen in hand, to answer at large your two notes of the 2d and 2 2d February. And now, it is very late (haJf-past twelve), which I just put in as an additional apology to that of spiritual ignorance, if I fail to do you any sort of justice. You will, however, readily believe that I am seriously anxious to do so, — and diat I do not make the attempt without the preparation of some sort of feeble prayer.

‘First, then, as to the only noticeable point in that

of the 2d I think you will see, that, if not in

the best, at least in some fair and intelligible meaning, you are one of those whom James addresses. Read, then, the book; and read it carefully; I am convinced it contains a message from God to you. But you say you are “in a state of perfect torpor, spiritually dead.” God forbid. But, suppose it to be so, surely you do not need to be told, — at all events you have only forgotten it, and will at once admit it when I recall it to your remembrance, — that the new creation, the washing of regeneration, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost, the origination in the soul of a true faith in the Saviour, may be the end of a long course of serious inquiry made under impressions which did not themselves directly contain any saving element. Such was the case with Mary Jane Graham, Halyburton, and thousands more. Now yon must not expect to possess, as a preliminary, to justify you in using a book addressed to people of a certain character, or as a kind of qualification for reading the book, ihat spiritual liveliness to which it is in truth intended to conditct you. It were happier, doubtless, if you had that life already (yes, it were a glorious blessing, for it is the germ of life eternal); but is it not still a happy prospect, that an honest, persevering use of the means of arousing and guiding you, will land you in that glorious blessing? Don’t think all is over if it is not at the beginning of the process; pray and strive that it may be given you even at the end. James finds you, we shall say,, just under some concern for salvation; he wishes to be the means of leading yon to spiritual life. Do try to follow him, or rather the Spirit, who, in answer to prayer, will apply to you the sayings in which James is a follower of Christ. Surely He will not deny you his grace.

‘As to your letter, you needed not to ask me to use gentleness. My heart fills whenever I think of you. You complain much of indifierence, caused in part by your not being much alone. There is just one way of making all work together for good — tell Grod of your temptations; and remember, for your encouragement, that He who so often retired to a mountain apart to pray, will not be insensible of the difficulty in the way of your keeping in a serious frame, and will give grace for your need. You feel, likewise, the workings of a carnal mind. And do you not regard it as your enemy? Forewarned is forearmed. Knowing its being within you, O cultivate a spirit of godly jealousy, — not of empty and peevish complaint Let your complaint, like David’s, be made to God, and seconded by a steady eye on your own heart, and a firm hand on the reins of it. Stimulate yourself by those passages of Scripture which speak of the gloiy yet to be revealed. Let watchftilness and self-deniad be brightened hj the reflected light of the hearen to which they are the appointed way.

* Be diligent, — it is reality worth while, — especially in reading the Word and prayer.

* Beware lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you. I mean, be earnest against allowing any Bin. See if it is not some one root that has hitherto marred your comfort.

* I think you would be wrong to pray for fresh convictions. Don’t prescribe means to God. Pray for the end — a believing view of Christ — the salvation of your soul. ’ “Help my unbelief” in any way Thou wilt,’ — should be your hourly cry. Oh! be instant; Why stand ye here all the day idle V* Go in to the vineyard. And may the God of peace, &c. — Heb. xiii. 20, 21. J. H.’

Yet with all the suffering which at this period he endured from headache and other effects of a confirmed dyspepsia, and notwithstanding the melancholy tone that pervades many of the entries in the journal, he exhibited throughout great energy of mind, and when occasion offered, the utmost liveliness of disposition. To illustrate the versatility of his talent, and the readiness with which he entered with enthusiasm into any subject that might be brought before him, we insert, the following hasty but clever exposition of the dilemma. It is contained in a letter to a fellow- student at Glasgow, who had sent queries on several subjects connected with the study of logic.

* Edikburgh, 7th March 1837. ‘My dear John, — Your letter of 2d February was very acceptable. You evidently, however, over-estimate the hints which my last was meant to convey.*

* Regarding a young person about to enter the minbtry, contained in a preceding letter.

.... As to the dilemma, the task is hard, especialiy

after the sneering parenthesis of that knaye A.

Bat here goes.

‘First, then, I take the true dilemma always to conclude (dtematwely never categorically; and I apprehend that each of the altematiyes afforded must he a true £>.$7;^o£ of your adyersary, so that he is equallj transfixed on all. This seems to me to result from the name dilemma or trUemma &c., which implies a choice of altematiyes, — and to he necessary, sdso, to distinguish it from ordinary hypotheticals which haye one or both premises compound.

‘In its general form it may he thus expressed: —

* If A is B, C is D; and if E is F, G is H: ‘But either A is B, or E is F:

*.’. either C is D, or G is H. («)

‘This general ^rm may he modified (although the essence of the things is unchanged), by the antecedent or consequent terms in the various proposals being identified. Thus, we may haye, —

If A is B, it is D; and if it is F, it is H: ‘But A is either B or F:

‘.’. it is either G or H, — which is, by the by, the form of that one given in Whately (from Demosthenes) about iEschines being either inconsistent or unpatriotic; and of the numerous dilemmas made by men in all ages, in order to show, by an altematiye conclusion, that their opponents are either rogues or fools.

‘Again we can haye, —

‘If A is B, C is B; and if E is B, G is B:
‘But either A or E is B:
’ .•. either C or G is B.

* But it is obyious that these, when expanded, are really of the form (to use Algebraic language) of the expression («)

Founding on that expression («), and on the subjoined formula (/s)* of the modus tollens I would define the dilemma to be “a compound hyothetical and disjunctive syllogism; in the major whereof two conditional propositions are conjunctively laid down; in the minor whereof the antecedent members of these two propositions are disjunctively (morf. pon,) affirmed; or their consequents disjunctively {mod, toL) denied; and which concludes (mod. pon,) by a disjunctive affirmation of the consequents, or (jnod. toL) by a disjunctive denial of the antecedents.

‘This definition, which, though hurried, is, I hope, correct, may help to guide you. I have not time to show, but you will easily see it in individual cases, that every pretended dilemma which concludes cate*

forically, is just a plain sailing compound hypothetical, t has none of the dilemma s grasp.

* Do let me hear soon of your progress. Pose me with some more logical difficulties. — Ever yours in love, J. H.*

During his residence in Edinburgh, several pastoral letters were addressed to the Sabbath class in Glasgow. We give one of these as a specimen of the style in which they are written.

‘Edinburgh, SUt March 1837.

‘My very dear Friends, — Three months of constant, though not severe illness, must form my excuse for the seeming neglect of which I have been guilty. The same excuse is partly in force still. But although 1 am not conscious of such vigour, either of mind or body, as gives me much hope of saying any thing that may be peculiarly fraught with instruction, still, as I have begun to write, in obedience to the constraining power of a strong aifection, and not without endeavouring to hallow what I have to say by prayer, I

(/3) If Ai8B,Ci8 D; and if EiaF, GisH:
But either C is not D, or 6 is not H:
.’. either A is not B, or E is not F.

•

hare some trust that €rod will enable me to speak to your hearts, ani will use me as the happy instrument of proToking you to greater love to Him who gave himself for us. The truth is, that reflecting upon oni close and dear relationship, — which Providence, while it has ouiurardljf dissolved it, will never (I trust) wholly abolish from our thoughts and feelings; and recollecting that the season is now very nigh, at which the churches in Glasgow are wont to remember the death of Christ, I felt that I could not let pass a time of such holy impression, without beseeching you once more to suffer the word of exhortation.

* And let me begin by congratulating those of you, who, by sitting down at Christ’s table, have openly declared yourselves to be among the number of his friends, on your near prospect of renewing this solemn declaration, and again, in the name of the Lord, displaying your banners. May I take it for granted, that, on former occasions, you have found a season of communion to be happy, because it is holy? — that you have felt, as it were, the chords of your heart — some deeply seated principle in your nature — thrilling in sweet and solemn answer to your Saviour’s reasonable demand, “Remember me?” Then let me invite you again to draw refreshment from this well of salvation — again to seek your happiness in engaging to be the Lord’s. Let me urge you to think well beforehand of the various uses you may make of this sacred service. Let great searchings of heart precede your approach. Let all your sins be mourned over. Let your besetting sins especially be detected and brought to light; while the holy emblems are in your hands, pray and resolve peculiarly against them; yea, let these deadliest enemies of your souls, which would not that God should reign over you, be dragged forth and slain before him. Let those duties, in which you are weakest, be sought out; and go to the feast that is spread for you, with the humble, grateful expectation, that the £esh which is meat indeed, and the blood which is drink indeed, will give you a better strength than your own in which to perform them. But, while you attend earnestly to all these, oh! forget not the main object — to remember Christ. Let the remembrance of Him who bare our sins in his own body on the tree, be the great means to which you look, and which you pray the Holy Ghost to bless, for making you more dead unto sin, and alive unto righteousness. Let these words follow you through, all the service — “Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son, Jesus Christ.” And if you find it hard, as the “ignorance that is in us” will often make it, to comprehend what is meant by so high a fellowship, ponder well our Saviour s explanation of it, in answer to a question of Judas the brother of James: “If a man love me, he will keep my words; and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.” Mutual love, then, is the bond or element of this communion. Strive therefore, beloved friends, that the love of God may be shed abroad in your hearts, through the Holy Ghost given unto you; so shall you know the blessedness of a true and fruitful communion with the Father of your spirits. And let me beseech you, that, when you are seated in the banqueting house, and the King comes to offer you of his bounty, this shall be one of your petitions, that he who now writes to you may be enabled, on the very next Sabbath after your communion, to appear as an acceptable guest at the same table. Yes; it is the same table. Though spread in different spots of this wilderness, it is yet covered with the same heavenly fare, set forth by the same bountiful Provider, presided over by the same Master of assemblies, and common to the whole family in heaven and earth that is named by the name of Jesus.

‘To those of you who have never yet taken your seats at it, I intended to have said something of ih%

102 MEMOIR OF JAlfES HALLEY.

duty which lies on us to engage in this service, when we understand its nature; and of the privileges and blessings which we lose, by missing this supper of the Lamh. But I must leave these topics to the superior practical knowledge and experience of him who now watches for your souls.

‘Let me now thank you, as I have often blessed God, for the refreshment which your letter afforded me. I hope such refreshment will very soon be given me ain.

‘My constant feeling towards you is expressed in 1 Sam. xii. 23; my constant request from you in Bom. XV. 30. And now, may the God of peace, &c., Heb. xiii. 20, 21. — Ever yours, J. H.’

The journal, during March, is occupied with brief jottings of his study. Omitting these records of a scholar’s labours, we extract the following, to show the spirit in which these labours were prosecuted: —

*8thAprUim.

* Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground!

* “Lord, let it alone this year also.”

‘Though so long, in great forbearance, spared by the great Master of the vineyard, I am lamentablj unconscious of any production of greater fruit. Never can I sufficiently adore the mercy which bas thus patiently yielded to the Saviour s prayer, and given me time to improve, ere the execution of the merited sentence.

‘And why has this time been hitherto so lost and trifled with? Because God was not enough in my thoughts; and the indolence of nature was allowed to rxm its course, undisturbed by any steady contemplation of a judgment to come.

‘The first, second, and third thing, which I need, in order to my improvement even as a student, is a close operative conviction of responsibility, — more of the feeling that God and eternity are near me; more of the sense of walking before the Almighty; in a word, more of practical religion; and of it especially in that ingenuous and powerful form in which it appears, when the loye of Christ constrains us to live not unto ourselves. God grant that I may be ^’ bought with a price f and may his Spirit teach me that holy gratitude, which will make me his in energetic self-devotion, and impel me to glorify God in my body and in my spirit, which are God’s/

Three days after this date there is a scheme of study containing some modifications of former schemes in regaf d to the distribution of time. Annexed to it are the following rules: —

’ 1. Continue instant in prayer.

’ 2. Meditate daily on the shortness of time, the sin of burying the talent, and the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.

’ 3. Read every Sabbfth evening, with special prayer, the Scripture denunciations of indolence; and sometimes on Monday, this and the former minute.

’ 4f. Review on Saturday night, or Monday morning, the work of each week.

* 5. Never sit later than 1, nor lie longer than 7.

’ e. Avoid more the snare of visiting.

‘All which, may the Holy Spirit, for Christ’s sake, enable me to observe and do. J. H.’

As our principal, though not our only design, in laying these pages before the public, is to stir up those who have lately entered the ministry, or are now preparing for it; we shall withhold nothing from Mr .Halley’s letters or journals which contains the expression of his judgment regarding the qualifications for the sacred office. With this view the following extract is presented :-^

Edinburgh, 2(Hh AprU 1837.

‘I was refreshed above measure by your account of

the conduct of the towards. It was

beautiful exceedingly — a precious reward for all your labours and anxieties. You haye now something of sight to stimulate jonrfaith great cause to bless God, and great encouragement in going forward to a more weighty and more public ministry.

‘I am often tempted to rush into it under very different feelings, — those of indignation at such conduct

as that of. It is often to me a matter of bitter

sorrow, that the ministry of the Word in Scotland should be abandoned to men who do not seem to understand so much as the proprieties of their station; or to the forward and bustling, but ill-furnished, like

and, whom before I can trust and

respect so thoroughly as I would like to do every brother in that work, there must be an entire reversal of the principles of my moral nature. These feelings often tempt me to hasten <m as if an intellectual perception and conviction of the ministerially fittings with some energy of character, were all that is needful. But wiser and better thoughts revive a severe self-condemnation, and tell me, that although I may not “do the same things,” yet surely I, so unprofitable and unsanctified, have no right to judge another.

‘J. h:

In an entry in the journal, of date the 24th of April, there is the following notice of an accident, to which he often afterwards recurred in his attempts to recount the mercies of God: —

‘On Saturday, I experienced a deliverance, for which I desire to bless God. Leaping carelessly, with a strong impulse, from a high wall, I was so stunned with the shock, and my lungs so collapsed, that I was several minutes speechless, unable to utter any thing but a hollow inarticulate murmur. In gasping for air, I thought this must be something very like death. However, I was mercifully restored; and apprehend nothing worse than a few days of pain in the spine and general languor/

The following hasty notes of the Assembly of 1 837

are peculiarly interesting at the present time. The

playfid strain of expression is, in the circumstances,

perfectly natural, and does not detract from the value

of the sentiments which the letter contains. The reader

will observe the measure of Dr Bryce pretty accurately

taken, at a time when he was not so notorious as he

is now.

* Edinburgh, 26tA May 1837.

‘My dear Amot, — Thank you enormously

for your letters. Can t go over them seriatim. (ptXrarovlaxeaQou xaa will do; although, you ninny, it would not come into an iambic line. Twas well you kept your old light ears away from those awful trumpets that blow up the Commissioner from Holyrood to the Tron. When you’re moderator, 1*11 second the reforms. And yet I am not quite sure but that kingly splendour ought to be turned into such a channel.

‘Isn’t it glorious for the Church that there was so little bickering intra fores about the moderatorship? The house, I am told by those who were present, acted with a cool resolution quite unexampled, on a subject on which almost every member of it must have felt so

: strongly. They gave W a very ^prt tether, to

nbe sure; and they were right; for to have let him discuss the subject at large, would have been like the letting out of water. Replies and duplies would have come; and hot ones too; and yet no opinions modified or changed. So it was admirable tactics to vote at once.

‘Man, Duff gave them, on Wednesday, a horrid

G dressing on this controTersj — ^’^ squabbling about a piece of paltry precedency /’ — and the maHdoiw interpret it into a very savage hit at Drs and,

when he spoke of them as making the ‘’ billows lash the sky, to float a feather, or to drown a fly.” His speech was noble, but butchered much, as to efiPect, by that dry cold body, Dr Bryce from Calcutta, following it with an hour s prosing. Duff’s former speech was followed by a solemn prayer from Dr Gordon; and how difierent the grand impression!

Yesterday, a capital brush on Church Extension. Dr Chalmers let the Government alone in his report; but Dr M^L. touched it a bit in moving some resolutions. Why put that man forward, with his inveterate Duke-of-Gordon-dinner Toryism? Then followed Mr Colquhoun, very ably

‘Anent my own motions, which you ask so kindly about. Unless health absolutely compel it, I must remain in Edinburgh, for the loaves and fishes, till the end of July. Then, every body is peremptory that I go to the country. Ever thine, J. H.’

* Mr Wm, Arnot*

During the months of May and June he continued his studies, although the disease was steadily gaining ground. At last, about the beginning of July, in obedience to the positive injunction of his medical adviser, he consented to try the effect of a residence in the country, and complete relaxation from labour. A letter written after this determination was formed, exhibits more frilly thEin any of an earlier date, the process of heart-searching to which he had long been subjecting himself in the prospect of entering the ministry. It is addressed to a friend in the country, whom he intended to visit immediately on leaving Edinburgh.

‘Edikbuhgh, Sd July 1837.

‘My very dear Friend, — Accept my best thanks for the trdj kind and sympathizing letter, which reached me, by M.’s parcel, about the time that you would reach F. I am sure, if sympathy and tender affection could cure a cough, I should soon have as clear a larynx as any one in Edinburgh.

To take up the most important matter (that is, to myself, for I must be selfish here) to which your letter alluded, let me thank you for the delicacy and gentleness with which you reminded me of my hints about “mental disquietudes,” I did not know of any hint but the last, and an old quotation from Shakespeare, which you yourself good-humouredly turned off in your answer; otherwise I should certainly have been more sparing of them. If that mode of keeping you in suspense had made you angry, I could not have blamed you. How much, then, must I be pleased to find you treating the matter so very kindly, and begging me to “judge coolly and rigidly, whether telling you would do me any good.” After all the thought I can give the subject, my opinion is, that it may do me good. Unable as I am, after repeated efforts, to judge for myself, I must have recourse to some friend.

‘I prefer to put the question in a general form: “Dare any one, who has serious doubts of his own conversion and interest in Christ, enter upon the work of the ministry V It will at once occur to you, that no one in such a state could enter on the work; that serious doubts would inevitably work too strongly in his mind to permit him; but we must not forget the influence of long cherished desires and prospects, which might be enough to bind or silence even the keenest feelings of self-reproach. Viewing it, then, as a possible case, could any circumstances justify such a step? And here, my friend, you will wonder what can have brought my views of it to so low a pitch, as that I should even ask the question at the head of this page. Certainly it were most accordant with the general strain of my religious opinions to meet it with an instant negative, lut feeling comes in here to aid opinion; the supposed case is mi, own; I am, and haye now for a considerable time been, in doubt about my personal interest in the Redeemer; and, although I see not how one in such a case can preach to edification, I feel a lingering desire after the work of that office to which I once thought I had, by the” will of God devoted myself. Many considerations (although almost all, I confess, earthbom) conspire to keep up this lingering feeling. Friends expect me to preach; I have laboured for it; in my own poor way, I have prayed for it; Providence has seemed to smile on some steps in my progress; I have sometimes even thought that I felt my heart burn within me to declare the glad tidings; but would any of these give me comfort in preaching what I durst not call, and do not feel to be, a tried and experienced salvation? I have been thinking, as I told you at the time, that the offer made me two years ago to go to Germany, was a providential hint to leave a profession for which I was unfit; and I have been interpreting this two months’ illness, which has kept me entirely gJoof from my preparations for license, much in the same way. I do not abandon hope; but I greatly fear. As to many things which I have said and done, very imlike the sayings and doings of the ungodly, I can see, in the retrospect, some of them accounted for by a cool sen of duty or even of what was proper to my station; many fervent prayers referable to sympathy, and a vast deal of good-looking actions the fruit of the subtle sin — hypocrisy.

‘Write me your thoughts on the whole matter, and as soon as you can; and above all, pray for me, that 1 may be enabled so to repair to the blood of sprinkling, as to obtain the comfort of a felt union to the

Saviour Dr Alison — whom I allow to be my

dictator while / weigh the advices of non-professional friends — has ordered me, for the cough, on which the last month has effected scarcely any iijaprovement, to

leave Edinburgh by the middle of July

* Write soon, and tell me the welcome news that you are to be at home. Do not treat me too tenderly as to my doubt. That is your extreme. Try to be quite faithful. Your most affectionate, J. H/

In reply to this letter, his friend urged that it was nothing new he was about to undertake; that already in Sabbath schools and otherwise he had been preaching Christ and delighting in it; that his arguments against accepting license to preach applied with equal force to what he had already been doing. In reference to this, we find Mr Halley, four days afterwards, writing to the same person, —

* Edinburgh, *Jih July 1837,

* And now, my dear friend, let

me thank you for that very affectionate part of your letter which related to the cause of my mental disquietudes. I was much impressed by it. I hope, by the nourishing of these impressions, I may be profited. You will rejoice to learn that I feel it has done me some good. Were I to enter into argument with you on the subject, I would say, that you have proved one of two things, (the sad difficulty is, which .^) either that I should never have begun preparation for the ministry, or that I should now finish it by undergoing the vows of license. I am more apt to draw this disjunctive conclusion from your premises, than your own categorical one. But I will not argue on the point. I have seen, in some cases, with what perverse ingenuity a despondent person can reason against himself; and I would not expose myself to the temptation. While I cordially thaxik you for the

I letter, let me entreat a peculiar place in jonr prayen. Be importunate for me, for I can never reach that myself, that in this matter I may he guided aright; and that the “great concern” may he all well, — my spirit saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.

‘That you may be more and more blest, and more and more happy in his service, is the earnest desire of your a£Pectionate friend, J. H/

In this extract the reader will not fail to observe a remarkable combination of ardent feeling and sound judgment. Oppressed by a sense of want and imworthiness, as his bodily health declined, his spirit was sinking under an increasing weight of despondency — ^«/tn led him to despond; but knowing that this power of arguing against himself might be a perverse ingenuity,’ he determined to guard against the danger. Uncertain where the exact line of duty lay between the extremes of presumption and despondency, he did as all who have been led by the Spirit before him have done; as David — ‘Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord;’ and as Paul, — ‘Brethren, pray for us.’

By this time Mr Halley had become very much reduced in strength; most of the symptoms which usually indicate the existence of pulmonary disease had appeared, — the night perspirations, the chest pains and the cough. His appearance was altogether that of a consumptive patient. Urged by his friends, and beginning himself to be alarmed at the character of the malady, he at last broke off all his engagements in Edinburgh, and lefl it on the morning of the 15th of July. His first retreat waa with one of his former class-fellows in Stratheam, in the immediate neighipoiirliood of Perth. During the two weeks spent there, his health was Teiy much improTed. His strength increased; his appearance becanke fresher; and the srmptoms of disease were alleyiated. The change had a very marked effect in elerating his spirits. During the j6umey from Edinburgh he was veiy cheerful. As soon as he arrived at his destination, and without an j rest, he had himself seated on a chair below the shade of a tree, and wrote there a poem in Greek hexameters, commemorative of an incident that had occurred in the stage-coach. The verses — ^forty-three in number — were sent immediately by post to a friend in Glasgow.* They have been preserved, and though of no consequence themselves, are valuable as a proof of the amazing facility with which he could express impromptu in the language and numbers of Homer, the common incidents of the ay. In this he appeared the scholar. On the same evening he was enabled to exhibit, in a remarkable manner, a more precious gifl:. Having been asked to conduct the worship of the family, he prayed with a illness and unction altogether beyond what he was

M “f incident, though Tery trifling in itself, wu strongly impressed on Qis mind by the circumstances in which it occurred, and he often afterwards rererred to it. The following note of it, written by his fellow-traveller, (ID apart of the same sheet which contained the original verses, may be ™J?’®»’»n8 to some of our readers: — Halley is engaged on a heroic poem, wnicj goes into the third page. I must give you the facU on which it is J2P™~Coming from Edinburgh, he sat on the driver’s seat. I sat right oenind hun, and two other gentlemen were on the same seat with me. One uM^r was intelligent and polite. We got acquainted with him, and wijed not a little. The day was warm. Cl» (grey blood-sucking in- ■«cu) were abundant. One alighted on the neck of said gentleman’s coat “Htow, towards the shoulder. Halley has an utter abhorrence of the insect; vKi no sooner had he seen it perch, than he was smitten with an immodenjje nesire for in destruction. “Stop,” says he, with the utmost eager. ™»J of tone and gesture; “sit still, sir, — there’s a cleg on your coat.” JnH *“^” he brandished a heavy peeled knotty stick around his head, «i<i came thwack down, right across the middle of the gentleman’s cheek, e scene that followed cannot be described in prose: the cleg escaped. iJ5**»*»lant attempted an apology, but, meantime, I had lost my gravity, ««i CDe begun apology terminated in a laugh.’ wont to attain; and his attainments on ordinary occasions were great. The prayer was remarked at the time by those who heard it; and it was discovered, by a reference made to it in a letter long after, that he had felt himself more than usually free, and looked back to it all his life as a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.

At the end of July Mr Halley was removed to Tillicoultry to spend the month of August, under the hospitable roof of his kinsman, the Rev. Mr Anderson, minister of the parish. While there, his health was apparently still farther improved. We are enabled to give, in his Own words, an account of his progress in the earlier part of August. Although the letter is written in a somewhat playful strain, it is inserted almost entire. It exhibits great buoyancy of spirits, at a time when there was much to make him sad.

‘Tillicoultry, lOih August 1837.

‘My dear John, — You talked so heroically in your note the other day about your preference of letters to pence, that I am impelled to test the sincerity of your gloriation, by this speedy injQiction of a postage. A., in the kindness of his heart, insisted that I should write each week to some of my Glasgow friends an account of my state and progress. Last week, having an opportunity, by the hands of cousin H,, I wrote to J.; but this week, having no such opportunity, I have resolved to amerce you in the simi of 9^d. sterling money, as a pimishment (though too slight a one) for the shortness and rarity of yoiu: communications.

* In answer, then, to the supposed “How dye do?” of all you folks in Glasgow, I have to say — “Better, on the whole.” My cheeks have unquestionably filled up considerably; and my legs and arms are getting a little less like pins, and more like the fins of a human animal. The cough abated very much during the warm days; but yesterday’s east wind brought it back nearly (not quite) as it was when I left Forgandenny. The breathlessness is so far reduced, that I can walk faster on a level; but it afflicts me much in any attempt to ascend. The perspirations are much less than formerly. The rheumatics are a good deal quieter, though not defunct. But the inward pain in the chest, connected with the cough, was, this morning, fully worse than I ever felt it. I must confess frankly, that so long as this remains, 1 have no great faith in th general improvement of appearance, as regards plumpness, &c., which mere regimen produces, and therefore do not consider my recovery at all so far advanced as my countenance would lead one to suppose. But it is, I think, advancing; and I hope, by the Divine goodness, vnll go on to its completion. I am even beginning to entertain hopes of being pht/sicalljf (alas! how little morally!) able to pach in a few months, and of not needing so long a recline upon the shelf as A. was prescribing for me. Yet I believe I have more need to pray for strength to curb the impatience of my disposition, and for preparation to be taken away in mid-time of my days, if such a decree should have passed respecting me. I confess myself to know far too little of submission; but I see its necessity in all events; and my great desire is to be found not an unwilling learner.

* You can’t expect news from a solitaire. Yet I have one piece of news for you. On Friday afternoon, who should step in but James Hamilton, as a deputation from Edinbuih, to know how I was getting on. He stayed the night with us, and visited Alva Glen in the morning before breakfast, where he caught four botanical rarities. Afterwards, he and I walked to Dollar (2^ miles), and he ascended to Castle Campbell, wherewith he was greatly delighted. We walked back — which, I hope, conveys to you a due idea of

114 HEMOIB OF JAlfBB HAIXET.

my valour. In the afternoon he went ofif jubilant to Edinburgh.

‘In most resigned obedience to the commands of Arnot and the other authorities, I am doing nothing that can be called study. Scottish Guardians, Records ChristiEin Instructors, and the Edinburgh Almanac, have been my chief companions. Besides doing justice to these, I have read two very good sermons by Mr Glen of Benholme, entitled “Comfort and Counsel for Sea-Faring People,” Hurrion “On the Knowledge of Christ Crucified,” and the Presbyterian Review for August.

Let me hear from you soon, and long. I ain suie I give liberal measure, whether in Greek or English.

‘My pupil, J. M., has gained ten prizes in the Academy; W. R., four. Rejoice with me at this.

‘Vale et vive. Tuus semper J. H.*

* Mr John MackaU,*

On his return to Glasgow, about the beginning of September, the state of his health became a matter of most anxious concern to his nimierous Mends. The plans for the approaching winter, so far as at that date they had been suggested, are shortly mentioned in the following letter to a minister in the country.

‘Glasgow, 16th September 1837.

‘My dear James, — Since I wrote you from

Tillicoultry, my health has a good deal improved. I have about doubled the meagre stock of flesh which clothed my bones when I took up my residence there. My general strength has grown so much, that I can now walk about ten miles in a day without much fatigue. The cough, however, and pain in the chest, continue with but little improvement; and I am much pained with stitches over half my body- Twice, during my stay at Tillicoultry, I made a run to Edinburgh to see Professor Alison. On both occasions,

LAMENTS HIS WANT OF SPIBZTUiJLITr. 115

he assured me that any attempt to preach, for many months to come, would be attended with much danger, and strenuously luged me not to spend the winter in Scotland. He spoke at first of a Toyage to Madeira, but afterwards recommended Jersey, or the south of England. I just wait the leadings of Proyidence, to see whither I must go.

‘I had thought of coming to see you towards the end of this month, previously pledging and engaging myself to keep by myself, and not interrupt your studies. My principal view was to haye enjoyed, under your ministry, the commimion of the body and blood of our Lord. I am still anxious for this, and may perhaps accomplish it. The only barrier is the earnestness of many iriends that I should leave Scotland before September closes. But this, I think, is impossible at any rate. So that I may be with you at that solemn season. At all events, although I cannot &JL a day, as my complaint varies much with the weather, I hope to be at Newton manse in the course of next week, or the one following.

* I could say much more, but leave it till we meet, as the writing posture is not a salutary one.

* Only let me explain that defect which you notice in my letters — a want of such spiritual remarks as might serve the great end of mutual excitement to diligence in Christ’s work. The reason is most humiliating — the barrenness and deadness of my own soul. I feel little disposed to account for this, as I do for a certain intellectual feebleness of which I am often conscious, by physical causes; but am compelled to refer the whole to an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living God. This has cost me, when I was able to reflect at all, many sad reflections. It threw a chill over my mind in sickness, and obscured my view of Him who is the hope of Israel, and the Saviour thereof in time of trouble. It gave a bitter flavour to almost all my thoughts. Especially, it pressed me with doubts and fears about entering on the ministry at all, and has led me to view my present sickness as a confirmation of these doubts. From such reflections I have only been relieved by excluding thought altogether. On the subjects from which I ought to draw my comfort, my mind wanders.

‘In a word, I have been taught impressively how frail we are, and that he who trusteth in his own heart is a fool. Yet, if I have any reliance at all, it is in Christ’s blood and Spirit.

‘Ever your affectionate friend, J. H.*

* Rev. James Stevemon*

We request the attention of every reader to the latter part of the above letter. We think it exhibits an instructive example of Christian humility. Those who had an opportunity of knowing the natural disposition of the penitent, will not fail to recognise the wonderful work of God in so completely subduing his spirit. It was not naturally meek. There were in his conduct many traces of an imperious disposition. In matters connected with secular knowledge, he was not easily induced to yield. When challenged, he maintained his point always with great boldness, — sometimes with obstinacy. It required, indeed, no small degree of courage to oppose him. But in the matter of personal practical religion, any one might rebuke him with perfect impunity. In this he would submit to the meanest. The moment you introduced the idea of his own relation to God, all his pride of intellect was subdued — the imperiousness of his disposition vanished — and he was ready to esteem every one better than himself. This visit was accomplished; and the invalid enjoyed for a few days the hospitaUtj and faithful instructions of a fellow-student, now a minister of the Gospel, whom he had always respected as a counsellor, and loved as a friend.

As the season advanced, the symptoms of his disease became more strongly marked, and towards the end of October, it was determined that he should spend the winter in a warmer climate. The resolution, and the immediate occasion of it, are announced by himself in the following hurried note, addressed to Mr James Hamilton: —

Glasgow, 24th October 1837.

* My dear James, — Dr Watson, whom I saw after my return, gave me a more serious view of my complaint than my former advisers. He denounced Jersey as a half measure, and very strongly recommended Madeira. The same day a providential opening appeared for my getting abroad I have resolved,

then, to go to Madeira, fully aware that this affords me the only chance (if I may so speak) of longer days. I feel some trust (would it were more) in God, and that all will be well. I greatly need your fervent and constant intercessions for a spirit of submission, for unshaken faith, for a lively hope, for a sense of the Divine favour

* I have met with much imlooked-for kindness. “magnify the Lord with me.” Farewell — perhaps for ever; but wherever I am, believe me still your affectionate friend, J. H.’

The providential opening referred to in this note, was an offer of a few gentlemen in Glasgow to defray the expense of his journey and residence in Madeira. While this act speaks much for the Christian liberality of those who gave, it is also a substantial eulogium on the character of him who received. It shows how highly his life was valued in his native place, where his talents were best known. Still farther to the credit of both parties, it should be told, that this .mumficence was not wholly, nor chiefly, an act of personal friendship; it was done on public grounds. One at least of his benefactors, and that, too, the one who bore the heaviest share of the expense, had never seen Mr Halley till the day before he sailed. In this instance, those rich men, who are in some degree enabled to account themselves stewards of the gifts of God, gave of their substance, not so much to save the life of a friend, as to preserve for labour in the vineyard, one to whom the ten talents had been committed bj the Sovereign Lord. A very considerable sum was expended. It was not an act of common benevolence. It had the character of a contribution in behalf of the Church of Christ. It was a gift brought to the altar. The preparations for departing were very speedily made. At the conclusion of a letter written two days before sailing, occurs the following sentence, which gives some indication of the state of his mind in leaving his native country: —

* My heart has been much shaken within me; but now all is plain. My prevailing feeling is, that, if ever I return it will be imder tremendous obligations to labour more abundantly.’

The same sentiments are more ftdly expressed in another letter written on the following day: —

‘My hopes of life are not very sanguine. I never calculated on being a long liver; would that my expectations had more influenced my conduct. I am not one of those who can look back with much pleasure on former experiences. I have been a transgressor from the womb; and but for the freeness of the outward call I should faint. But I have been wonderfully supported. I can now look forward with some composure, if God should appoint me them, to the weary feverish nights of the confirmed consumption. Let me entreat you to pray, that, if the outward man is destined to perish, the inward m£in may he renewed day by day. I feel with Manoah’s wife (Judges xiii. 23), that, “if the Lord were pleased to kill me, he would not have showed me all these things.” So many of his dear children are deeply interested in my recovery, and so many prayers (I have reason to believe) are presented for it, and so many of those who labour in his cause have exerted themselves to render me comfortable in my exile,-^that I do hope he has some work for me to do yet in his Church. But I look to him for strength to do, or to suffer all, and to be ready to depart whenever he calls me. In a season of much perplexity I have peculiar need of your prayers. I do not forget you in your labours and trials. May jwu be a blessing; and may the blessing of him diat is ready to perish come upon you/

Ardently desiring to recover, that he might preach the Gospel, he had a pretty strong hope of getting benefit through a residence in Madeira; but his expectation all the while was from the Lord.’