M'CHEYNE'S LIFE AND REMAINS.

Memoir and Remains of the Rev. R. M. M⭑Cheyne, Minister of St Peter's Church, Dundee. By the Rev. ANDREW A. BONAR, Minister of Free Church, Collace.

There are names which deserve to become the common property of the Church of Christ; names which ought to be rescued from the possession of party, because belonging to individuals who have been memorable for acts or for graces in their day and generation. These the spirit of contention has no right to claim as its own, any more than it has to arrogate for them undue pretensions. The spirit, moreover, of Christian love attains its proper pre-eminence when it leads us to admiration of good qualities, even in those who write bitter things against us; and the spirit of charitythe reflection that its subject is now with God-should prevent us from warring with the dead. With feelings such as these have we contemplated the portrait drawn of a devoted, and in much, a humble-minded servant of Christ; and we now propose to lay before our readers a brief outline of the course of Robert M Cheyne-a course in which, if there were some things that might much better have been left undone, there are exhibited the diligence and zeal of one who, in entering the vineyard, sought to occupy his talent to the utmost.

Born at Edinburgh, in the year 1813, his childhood was marked by a more than ordinarily rapid progress, and his disposition was so sweet and gentle that it drew the affectionate regard of all who knew him. His sensibilities were extremely tender, and his mind peculiarly susceptible of the gentle and the beautiful. As he grew up and his faculties expanded, it became apparent that, under a retiring manner and modest deportment, there were many estimable and some superior qualities of intellect that might be expected to become visible in after life. Having made rapid and successful progress through all previous elementary acquirements, he entered the University in the year 1827, giving time in private to the study of the modern languages, and finding recreation in music, drawing, and also in gymnastic exercises. In 1831, having had his views directed to the ministry, probably the career for which his general correctness of demeanour, his sedateness of deportment, his unaffected seriousness, and his peculiar talents had induced others to consider him as obviously qualified, -he commenced the study of theology under the distinguished person who then held that chair in this city, whose brilliant genius and enthusiasm must have caught with peculiar force the mind of Mr M'Cheyne; though other influence and an instructor more deeply-read in theological literature, -more patient of research, and more exact in method,-might have led him to seek for deeper views than he ever seems to have possessed, and to temper, by more reflection, the impetuousness of an ardent mind, prepared, through its very pliability, to take a strong impression from an individual of such acknowledged eminence. It cannot be said that the subject of this biography then entertained feelings that were unsuited to the sphere of usefulness to which he was looking forward; yet, unquestionably, his heart was at this time brought more strongly under the power of divine truth. The death of his eldest brother, in the prime of manhood, seems to have appealed to his conscience with much power. That brother, after a length

ened period of despondency, caused by bodily infirmity, died at last rejoicing in the full flood of light which the Gospel pours upon the future destinies of man. The impression then made was never subsequently effaced; the remembrance of the early virtues of one to whom he was so strongly attached, was a powerful motive to seek advancement in Christian excellence; and the hope of meeting him in glory one of the lively features in the imagery of heaven. "From that day forward," the friends of Mr. M'Cheyne, "observed a change. His poetry was pervaded by more serious thought, and all his pursuits began to be followed out in another spirit. He engaged in the labours of a sabbath-school, and began to seek God in the diligent reading of the word," and attendance upon public ordinances, with a greater teachableness of spirit, and a more ardent desiro of growing in knowledge and in grace. Deep, however, as had now become his consciousness of sin, and his sensitive dread of its indulgence -the disposition that leads to cling most closely to the Cross, he found, as all must do who persevere in the way to glory, intervals when he was tempted to indulge to a greater extent than he now deemed right, in the amusements of general society. Nor, taking into account the profession to which he was looking forward, can we pronounce him to have been overscrupulous; since, however innocent in themselves, they can hardly be pronounced compatible with the watchfulness over the heart, with the keeping alive of devotional feeling, with the meditative study so favourable to the subsequent usefulness of those who are willing to be put in charge with the office of bringing forward every inducement before others to make choice of the Redeemer's service. There are frequent entries in his journal which shew that for such amusements he had now lost taste. But his state of feeling is still more apparent, from the following lines, occasioned by "hearing, concerning a friend of the family, that she was determined to keep by the world."

"She has chosen the world,

And its paltry crowd,-
She has chosen the world,
And an endless shroud!
She has chosen the world,
With its misnamed pleasures:
She has chosen the world
Before heaven's own treasures.

She hath launched her boat,
On life's giddy sea,
And her all is afloat
For eternity.

But Bethlehem's star

Is not in her view;

And her aim is far

From the harbour true.

When the storm descends
From an angry sky,
Ah! where from the winds
Shall the vessel fly?
When stars are concealed,

And rudder gone,
And heaven is seal'd
From the wandering one!

The whirlpool opes
For the gallant prize;
And with all her hopes
To the deep she hies!
But who may tell

Of the place of woe,
Where the wicked dwell-
Where the worldlings go?"

Already begun to labour for the good of others; the interval between his attendance upon his various classes was occupied in a manner most profitable to himself, and in an occupation, if gone about with humility and prudence, calculated to prove of incalculable benefit to theological aspirants. In connection with a few like-minded associates, with the sole design of doing good, some of his spare hours were now weekly devoted to visitation of one of the destitute districts in his native town. An entry in his Journal gives a vivid idea of the impression made upon his mind by what he witnessed in the earliest of these visits, and lets us see in the youthful student the anticipated commencement of the unwearied pastor:

"Accompanied A. B. in one of his rounds through some of the most miserable habitations I ever beheld. Such scenes I never before dreamed of. Ah, why am I such a stranger to the poor in my native town? I have passed their doors thousands of times; I have admired the huge black piles of building, with their lofty chimneys breaking the sun's rays, why have I never ventured within? How dwelleth the love of God in me? How cordial is the welcome even of the poorest and most loathsome to the voice of Christian sympathy! What imbedded masses of human beings are huddled together, unvisited by friend or miniWhy should I give hours and days any longer to the vain world, when there is such a world of misery at my very door? Lord, put thine own strength in me; confirm every good resolution; forgive my past long life of uselessness and folly."

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The advantages of such early insight into the field of labour lying before the pastor of a large town cannot be too highly estimated. Happy would it be for the Church if this formed an essential part of the training she requires during the years of study; for thus would she not merely send forth labourers gradually prepared for their work; but the most important help would be afforded to many a toiling minister, oppressed by the consciousness that the field of duty before him is too wide for either the physical strength, or mental power, of any one man adequately to meet; when the many other calls upon his time, and the necessity of constant study, if "things new and old" are to be brought out from the treasury, are taken into account. The powers of stripplings, as well as those of full grown warriors, will be valuable if both look with a single eye to the doing of good. Were this known to be an understood part of academical training, we might cease to be encumbered with some help which the Church does not need; but we would gain in exchange a more than adequate return. We would have the services of men better adapted for what ought to be the main object of their lives, and the aim of all their preaching-to bring men to Christ. It would be seen that we desiderated that without which learning, abilities, and accomplishments are vain--a living ministry. In completing, moreover, by this addition of active practice, all other training, we would but follow the parallel course adopted in preparation even for secular offices, just as it constitutes an indispensable and essential part of medical training, that the student shall learn to distinguish and recognize diseases by personally inspecting their morbid phenomena; to handle his instruments by degrees, and to learn the fearful and wondrous mechanism of the human body, by minutely investigating and operating upon the several parts.

In continuation of this period of Mr. M'Cheyne's Life, the following remarks of his biographer are worthy of attention :-

"A deeper sense of responsibility led him to occupy his talents for the service of Him who bestowed them. There have been few who, along with a devotedness of spirit, that sought to be ever directly engaged in the Lord's work, have, nevertheless, retained such continued and undecaying esteem for the advantages of study. While attending the literary and philosophical classes, he found time to turn his attention to Geology and Natural History. And often in his days of most successful preaching, when, next to his own soul, his parish and his flock were his only care, he has been known to express a regret that he had not laid up in former days more stores of all useful knowledge; for he found himself able to use the jewels of the Egyptians in the service of Christ. His previous studies would sometimes flash into his mind some happy illustration of divine truth, at the very moment when he was most solemnly applying the glorious Gospel to the most ignorant and vile."

He received his commission to preach in July 1835, having been a licentiate of the Presbytery of Annan; and a few months afterwards entered upon his duties as assistant to the minister of Larbert, a thickly-peopled, and, in many respects, a laborious parish. His qualifications for occupying the pulpit, were of no mean cast; simple as his language was, there seems to have been occasionally a rare felicity both of thought and of

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expression; a composed and subdued, but also an earnest manner. whose lips such crowds used to hang in Dundee; whose words came home with power to men and women of different classes; whose fragile frame, and gentle mode of speech; whose artlessness of deportment, conspicuous for nothing else than unwearied assiduity in bearing his message; in whose discourses there seems to have been such scanty variety of topic; was apparently destitute of many gifts entering into the composition of the popular orator. He did not abound in the dazzling display of rhetoric with which some men are ambitious to stud all they say; his good taste made him avoid the extravagant gesticulation, and the resonant appeals in which others indulge. He was also destitute of some of the qualities which more deservedly attract admiration from a higher class than the unthinking crowd: the lucidness of arrangement; the compactness of statement; the manly and sinewy sense; the kindling warmth of exhortation in which the fancy begins to glow after the reason has been satisfied. Yet had he power to win by love, attracting by earnestness and unstudied pathos devoted to a congenial theme; speaking from the heart to the heart, he touched a chord that responded to the skilful hand. He was not wanting in felicitous illustration. His memory was accurate and strong; his candour in examining what claimed to be truth praiseworthy. His mind was ingenious and enterprising; if less capable of striking out light for itself, equal to follow out what others had suggested.

"He possessed," according to the writer of his Life," great powers of analysis; often his judgment discovered singular discrimination. His imagination seldom sought out objects of grandeur; for, as a friend truly said of him, he had a kind and quiet eye, which found out the living and beautiful in nature, rather than the majestic and sublime.' He might have risen to eminence in the circles of taste and literature, but denied himself all such hopes, that he might win souls. With the peculiar talents he possessed, his ministry might have, in any circumstances, attracted many; but these attractions were all made subsidiary to the single desire of awakening the dead in tresspasses and sins."

With such talents, we may add, that he was far from doing justice to the opportunities he had in other respects so well improved; a fatal facility of expression and command of topics betraying him subsequently too often into extemporaneous address; thereby depriving his flock of a portion of the benefit which they had a right to expect from their minister, leaving him the prey to unguarded statements, and producing a security of being able to proceed with ideas deficiently arranged and imperfectly wrought out, which injuriously affected him ever after. We mark here, and there too, with pain, as combined with this, occasional traces of presumption, and of what, in the lack of any more appropriate word, we cannot but call somewhat visionary and enthusiastic. As thus, preached in"on 'I know that my Redeemer liveth,' with more seeming power on the people than for a while. I never remember of compelling to come into Christ so much as in that discourse." (!) That the same tendency also to regard emotion and excitement as of more consequence than solid instruction and conviction, nay, to long for this, which seems to have grown upon him more and more, appears in a remark recorded by him about the preaching of another: "the people were brought into a very tender frame." We might dwell farther upon and allude more prominently to the point referred to, but for our unwillingness to censure weaknesses when combined with so much true excellence.

Our space forbids us almost from entering upon Mr. M'Cheyne's remaining history. We can do no more than notice his removal to Dundee, where he had been elected minister of St. Peter's Extension Church and Parish, being ordained in November 1836. He was indefatigable in labour, and

blessed with much success amongst those whom he entitles "the noisy mechanics and political weavers of this godless town;" and though more than one opening was presented for his retirement to the quietness and repose of a rural parish, he remained firmly attached to what he viewed as his appointed post. There can be no doubt, that he disregarded, to his own injury, the telling effects of the weakness of the flesh, and the weariness of the frame. After three years of unremitting duties, there seemed every appearance that his health would entirely fail, without a season of complete rest from public exertions; and during this period, when severed in body from the scene that was ever present to his thoughts; he gladly consented to the proposal that he should form one of a deputation sent to examine into the state of the People of Israel. The notices contained of the expedition in the biography are extremely interesting; but we cannot afford quotation. Only the following extract, descriptive of evening in the wilderness, appears to us most striking :

"It is a remarkable feeling to be quite alone in a desert place; it gives similar feelings to fasting; it brings God near. Living in tents, and moving among such lonely scenes for many days, awake many new ideas. It is a strange life we lead in this wilderness. Round and round, there is a complete circle of sand and wilderness-shrubs; above, a blue sky, without a cloud, and a scorching sun, which often made the thermometer stand at 96o in our tents. When evening came, the sun went down as it does in the ocean, and the stars came riding forth in their glory; and we used to pitch all alone, with none but our poor ignorant Bedouins and their camels, and our all-knowing, all-loving God beside us. When morning began to dawn, our habitations were taken down. Often we have found ourselves shelterless before being fully dressed. What a type of the tent of our body! Ah! how often taken down before the soul is made meet for the inheritance of the saints in light."

Often when the attendants were driving in the stakes of the tent, and stretching its cords, he would lie down on the ground under some sheltering tree. Completely exhausted by the day's ride, he would lie almost speechless for half an hour; and then, when the palpitation of his heart had a little abated, would propose that they should pray. Often did he then say-not impatiently, but very earnestly-" Shall I ever preach to my people again?" His care of personal holiness was equal, whether at home, in his quiet chamber, or on the sea, or in the desert.

"Holiness in him was manifested, not by efforts to perform duty, but in a way so natural, that you recognized therein the easy outflowing of the indwelling Spirit. The fountain springing up unto everlasting life in his soul, welled forth in living waters alike in the familiar scenes of his native Scotland, and under the olive trees of Palestine. Prayer and meditation on the Word were never forgotten; and a peace that the world could not give, kept his heart and mind. It was sweet at any time to be with him, for both nature and grace in him drew the very heart; but there were moments of enjoyment in these regions of Palestine that drew every cord still closer, and created unknown sympathies. Such was that evening," says the writer of his life, when we climbed Sampson's Hill together. Sitting there, we read over the references to the place in the Word of God; and then he took out his pencil and sketched the scene, as the sun was sinking in the west. This done, we sang some verses of a psalm, appropriate to the spot, offered up prayer, and slowly descending, conversed of all we saw, and of all that was brought to mind by the scenery around us, till we reached our tent."

He returned from this mission to yet more abundant labours, and to this he was much encouraged by the peculiar position of his flock, who had, during the absence of their pastor, been aroused to extraordinary earnestness on the subject of salvation. This is not the place to enter upon the wide field of narrative and of inquiry, opened up in the fifth chapter of the Memoir. Time alone, can adequately test the reality of such a work as that to which it mainly refers; and there is much obvious hazard in a premature decision