A Letter to the late Rev. David Black, Edinburgh.
BY THE LATE REV. ALEXANDER STEWART, D.D., OF MOULIN,
DINGWALL, AND EDINBURGH.
(Fourth Edition, 1815.)
MOULIN, 1st September, 1800.
MY DEAR SIR,—I was by no means surprised to find, by your late letters, that the communications which I had made to you from time to time, concerning the state of religion in this part of the country, had been highly gratifying to our friends in Edinburgh. As you have signified to me the opinion of Dr. Erskine, Dr. Hunter, and other respected friends, that the happy revival of religion amongst us ought to be made more generally known, and that it might be useful to publish an account of it, I shall now endeavour to give a more circumstantial detail of its commencement and progress. I am able to do this with tolerable correctness as my memory is assisted by written notes. I have no doubt that the concern about religion which has been lately awakened in this place is already the ground of much rejoicing among the angels before the throne. Pity it should not also engage, as extensively as may be, the praises of our Christian brethren on earth.
The inhabitants of the Highlands have, as you know, the Scriptures in Gaelic, their native tongue. The New Testament, the Book of Psalms, and the Assembly’s Shorter Catechism have been long read in the schools. By these means the people in this part of the country had some knowledge of the principal events in the history of the creation and fall of man, and of our Saviour’s life, death, resurrection, and ascension. They knew also some of the great outlines of Christian doctrine; but in general their knowledge of the principles of Christianity was superficial and confused, and their religious opinions were in many important points erroneous. Very few, indeed, knew the way in which the Gospel informs us a sinner may be reconciled to God. The opinion of their own works recommending them to the favour of God and procuring a reward from His bounty, was almost universal. It discovered itself in their ordinary speech, in their common remarks on more solemn occasions, and in almost every religious sentiment that was uttered. Their apprehensions of the demerit and consequences of sin were exceedingly defective. I have heard many on a sick-bed—after acknowledging in common form that they were sinners—deny that they ever did any ill. And in the view of death they have derived their hopes of future happiness from the reflection that they had never wronged any
person. Very few seemed to annex any meaning to their words when they said that they expected pardon for Christ’s sake. Being without the true knowledge of God, of Christ, of the Gospel, of their own character and state, they lived—as might be expected—to themselves and to the world. They were not, indeed, addicted to open vice, if we except lying and swearing. They were rather distinguished for sobriety, industry, and peaceable behaviour; but they were destitute of religious principle. Men may love and adore an unseen God, but they cannot love or serve an unknown God. They may dread pain or death or eternal misery, but that is not to fear God. Our people were strangers alike to the true fear and to the true love of God. They had evidently little concern about the present or the future state of their souls. They attended church, and partook of the Sacraments, and rested from their work on the Sabbath. But these outward observances were almost the only appearance of religion. There was little reading of the Scriptures at home; little religious instructing of children; hardly any family worship; no religious conversation; no labouring, in any manner, for the meat which endureth unto everlasting life. Even on the Lord’s Day most of the time was spent in loitering, visiting, and worldly talk; and on other days religion was scarcely thought of.
In narrating the means by which the people were brought to pay a more serious attention to their eternal interests, it is necessary to say something of my own case. I was settled minister of this parish in 1786, at the age of twenty-two. Although I was not a “despiser” of what was sacred, yet I felt nothing of the power of religion on my soul. I had no relish for its exercises, nor any enjoyment in the duties of my office, public or private. A regard to character, and the desire of being acceptable to my people, if not the only motives, were certainly the principal motives, that prompted me to any measure of diligence or exertion. I was quite well pleased when a diet of catechising was ill attended, because my work was the sooner over; and I was always satisfied with the reflection, that, if people were not able, or did not chuse to attend on these occasions, that was no fault of mine. I well remember that I often hurried over that exercise with a good deal of impatience, that I might get home to join a dancing party, or to read a sentimental novel. My public addresses and prayers were, for the most part cold and formal. They were little regarded by the hearers at the time, and as little recollected afterwards. I preached against particular vices, and inculcated particular virtues. But I had no notion of the necessity of a radical change of principle; for I had not learned to know the import of those assertions of Scripture, that “the carnal mind is enmity against God;” that “if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature;” and, that “except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” I spoke of making the fruit good; but I was not aware that the tree was
corrupt, and must first be itself made good, before it could bear good fruit. The people, however, were satisfied with what they heard, and neither they nor I looked farther. Almost the only remark made by any one on the discourse, after leaving church, was, “What a good sermon we got to-day!” to which another would coldly assent, adding, “Many good advices do we get, if we did but follow them.” Such a heartless compliment was all the improvement made of the discourse, and, I believe, all the fruit of my preaching. The hearers readily gave me credit for a desire to do my duty; and they as readily took credit to themselves for a willingness to be taught their duty. But whether any improvement was actually going forward; whether there was any increase of the fruits of righteousness, was a point which gave neither minister nor people much concern.
If there were any persons in the parish at that time who lived a life of faith, under the influence of pure evangelical principles, I did not know them, nor was I qualified to discern and understand what spirit they were of. I have since had reason to believe that there were a very few spiritually-minded persons; but their life was hid, and they had left this world, all but one or two, before they could acknowledge me as a brother. I was in a great measure ignorant of the peculiar doctrines of Christianity, the corruption of the human will, the fulness and freeness of the redemption which is in Christ, justification by faith, and the necessity of the Holy Spirit’s agency on the human soul; and what I knew not myself, I could not declare to others. I never thought of praying for divine direction in my search after divine truth. I believe I had read the Confession of Faith of our Church before I declared my belief of its contents; but I had taken little pains to compare it with the Scriptures. I certainly did not distinctly understand, nor was I at all persuaded of the truth of, many propositions contained in it. Yet I do not remember that I had any scruples about subscribing it as the confession of my faith, or about declaring my assent to it solemnly in the presence of that congregation whereof I was about to take the pastoral charge.
While I was yet ignorant of the truth and unacquainted with Christian experience, two persons, under conviction of sin and terrors of conscience, applied to me for advice. They supposed that one in the office of the ministry must of course be a man of God, and skilled in administering remedies for the diseases of the soul. They were widely mistaken in their judgment of me; for I had learned less of the practice than of the theory of pastoral duty. I said something to them in the way of advice, but it afforded them no relief. They were, however, under the care of the good Physician. He applied His own balm to their wounded spirits, and “healed, and bade them live.” Being progressively and effectually taught of God, they are both now established, judicious Christians. These are the first that appear to have
been converted since my incumbency, but they cannot be reckoned the fruits of my ministry.
The Lord was now preparing to gather to Himself a fuller harvest in this place. He might have removed me as an useless incumbance, or rather an intervening obstacle, out of the way, and subjected me to the doom of the unprofitable servant; but He was graciously pleased to spare me, and visit me in mercy, and even to employ me as one of His instruments in carrying on His own work. Glory to His name, who commanded light to shine out of darkness! The writings of pious men, which were put into my hands by one or another Christian friend, were made the means of bringing me acquainted with the truths of the gospel. Among these, I may mention, the works of the Rev. John Newton and Thomas Scott, as eminently useful to me. I was slow in receiving and embracing the doctrines maintained by these writers. By degrees, however, I was persuaded that they were agreeable to Scripture, and that no doubt they must be admitted as true. I therefore durst not preach any thing which I conceived to be directly contrary to these doctrines; but I brought them forward rarely, incorrectly, and with awkward hesitation. The trumpet was sounded, but it gave an “uncertain sound.” My preaching now consisted of a mixed kind of doctrine. I taught that human nature is corrupt, and needs to be purified; that righteousness cannot come by the law; that we cannot be justified in the sight of God by our own works; that we can be justified only by the righteousness of Christ, imputed to us, and received by faith. But in explaining the nature of saving faith, I conceived it as including many of its effects; not only a cordial acceptance of the plan of redemption by a Mediator, but also ardent gratitude to God our Saviour on account of that redemption, devotedness to His service, good-will to our brethren of mankind; in a word, every pious and benevolent disposition of heart. I thought and taught, that, on our possessing this faith, we should, in consideration of it, have an interest in the redemption purchased by Christ, and consequently be accepted by God, and rewarded as righteous persons. Thus, by a short circuit, I arrived at the same point from which I had set out; still resting a sinner’s acceptance with God on the conformity of His will to the divine law, or, in other words, on the merit of His good dispositions, and thus endeavouring to establish a human righteousness under the name of faith in Jesus Christ. It was plain, indeed, that this conformity of the will to the divine law could be but imperfect in this life; yet, imperfect as it was, it must, in my apprehension, be the ground of our justification and acceptance with God. Here I stumbled on that stumbling-stone of sincere obedience, in substance at least, if not in so many words; imagining, like many in whose writings I have since met with that opinion, that the great favour procured to men by Christ’s sufferings and mediation, was a relaxation of the divine law; and
that an imperfect obedience, dignified with the name of sincere, was all that was now required.* This was “another gospel,” which could never be owned by God as the gospel of His Son, nor accompanied by that sanctifying power which belongs exclusively to the truth. If it set any of my people on thinking, it only bewildered and misled them. They remained, as before, unenlightened and unchanged.
The biographical sketches in the Evangelical Magazine were principal means of impressing my heart, of opening my eyes to perceive the truth, of exciting a love to godliness, and a desire after usefulness. The power of divine grace appeared illustrious in the composure, the joy, the triumph, with which many pious Christians left the world. I saw their triumphant hope supported, not by a complacent reflection on a well-spent life, but by a confidence in the unmerited love of Christ, and in His power and willingness to save even the chief of sinners. I was particularly struck with the account of ministers who had laboured with much diligence and success, and had died at any early period of life, full of good fruits; while I, who had already lived longer, and been longer in the ministry than they, could not say that I had taken any pains with my people, nor that I had been the means of reclaiming one sinner from the error of His way, or of saving one soul from death. The conversation and example of some
* As one specimen, I transcribe the following extract from the printed sermons of a clergyman deceased. “Religion, though it enjoins universal purity, an uniform obedience to its laws, and grants no licence to sin, does not yet require a total exemption from all such failings as strict justice might pronounce faulty; does not expect in us such perfection, as never to suffer ourselves to be surprised into actions which, upon a review, may appear censurable. For if this were the duty, these the terms prescribed by religion, who could comply or live up to such unsinning purity? There is not a just man that liveth upon the earth, and sinneth not. God alone is absolute, immutable holiness. He is indeed pure, unclouded light; and in Him is no darkness at all; no shades or spots in His nature. But the brightest human virtue is shaded with imperfections, and blotted with various defects. Our supreme Lawgiver, therefore, does not expect absolute perfection, but accepts us on the much lower condition of sincerity, i.e., of a predominant purpose and inclination to obey Him, appearing in the habitual virtues of a good life. This is all the obedience that human frailty can pay, and all that the divine mercy exacts. This it is to keep innocence, and take heed to the thing that is right; and that this will bring peace to the mind, both in this life and in the next, is a doctrine which this discourse is meant to illustrate.”—Carr’s Sermons, vol. iii., Sermon 13.
If one wished to expose the vanity of the scheme of acceptance with God on account of an obedience confessedly defective, one could scarcely contrive a statement which should exhibit its inconsistency and absurdity more clearly, than that which is here given by a professed advocate of that illusive and pernicious theory. Yet this is a favourite scheme with numbers who are reckoned thinking men, men of sense and understanding, and knowledge of the world. So readily does even a thinking man, who would not easily be imposed upon in the affairs of life, content himself with any religious scheme, however inconsistent with scripture and reason, which flatters his natural self-estimation, his worldly spirit, and lamentable indifference about the concerns of eternity.
persons of a truly spiritual mind to whose acquaintance I was admitted, and who exhibited to my view what I found only described in written memoirs, conducted much to impress on my mind the truths with which I was gradually becoming more acquainted. I cannot omit mentioning in this connection the blessing I enjoyed in the preaching, the prayers, and the conversation of that much-favoured servant of Christ, the Rev. Charles Simeon, of King’s College, Cambridge. He was a man sent from God to me, was my guest for two days in June, 1796, preached in my church, and left a savour of the things of God which has remained with us ever since.
(To be continued.)
“Historic Memories of Stoke Newington.”
A LECTURE delivered in London by K. M. Hogg has been sent us. The title of it is “Historic Memories of Stoke Newington.” The lecture is a lucid vindication of the doctrines and principles of Calvinistic Protestantism, and an exposure of the horrible massacres and persecutions of the Papacy. Striking instances are given of these facts, which should be drummed into the ears of the lukewarm Protestants of this back-sliding age. (1) The writer reminds us of the terrible hardships endured by the Protestants of Germany three hundred years since on account of the tyrannical laws framed and enforced at the instigation of Jesuits and other Papists; the flight of a great many of these Protestants to England, where they found shelter and religious liberty to worship God according to truth and conscience. (2) The inhuman horrors and massacres meted out by the Papacy to the poor Protestants of France; their flight to England; Scotland, and Ulster in Ireland; the warm reception vouchsafed them by our forefathers; and how they even kissed the ground on their getting their feet on land in England, where there was freedom to serve God without any one daring to make them afraid. A glimpse is given into the high-toned moral and religious character of these refugees, and shows that their sufferings arose not from evildoing, but from their love to God’s word, and worship according to that book. (3) This nation is reminded that the real source of our national prosperity and greatness is the Bible, and is inseparably bound up with the place its doctrines and principles held in our institutions and practice. May the Lord open the eyes of the Protestants of this nation to realise this fact ere it be too late. For, alas! we look to our own arm for strength; not to the Lord God of our fathers. (4) The writer shows the evil influences of the hosts of Jesuits, Monks and Nuns who have, in violation of our laws, been received into this kingdom, when they were banished out of Roman Catholic
nations; charges them with being at the root of the doubts cast upon the Bible as the inspired word of God, and the desecration of the Lord’s day which has become so common among us; and demands that the laws of this nation should be put in force against these evil influences, and that the secret haunts of these intriguers should be thrown open to Government inspection.
We fully concur with the sentiments set forth in this lecture, and heartily commend it to all our readers.
The thought has occurred to us that this lecture should be translated into French, and circulated among the people of France, as the facts it contains about the past history of that nation are calculated to do good there.
N. C.
The late Mr. Donald Sutherland, Helmsdale.
IT is with deep regret that we record the death of Mr. Donald Sutherland, Helmsdale, who passed away in June last, at the ripe age of 78 years. His removal is a great loss to the Church and to our Helmsdale congregation, in which he took an active interest from its beginning in 1893. Latterly he took a leading part in the conduct of its services when the minister or other supply was absent.
The following is an account of some of the Lord’s early dealings with the subject of this notice, as related by himself, and supplied by a friend at Helmsdale. The writer also had the privilege of hearing him refer to some of the same things in his experience. “Over thirty years ago,” Donald said, “I was in great soul trouble. It was at the communion season at Helmsdale, and owing to an ailment, I was unable to attend the services. Satan began to tempt me very much, and that scripture, ‘All the sinners of my people shall die by the sword,’ was never leaving my mind. I was in a terrible state, getting no rest for soul or body. I got no sleep, my mind was in such a state night and day. There was nothing before me but darkness, seeing myself undone—a lost sinner. One night after this, when at a prayer meeting, I was in such a low state of mind that I concluded there was no hope for me, and Satan came telling me to put an end to my life. But oh, it was when in that low state that light broke in upon my soul. I got such a view of Christ suffering in the room and stead of sinners, that my soul was melted and filled with peace and rest. I may say my soul and body got rest that night. But oh, I have grieved Him often since. Since then I have had times of darkness and times of light.”
Donald Sutherland, though unassuming in bearing, was naturally of a firm and resolute disposition, which was displayed in his profession as a Christian when occasion demanded. When the Free Presbyterian Church was formed in 1893, he heartily associated himself with the cause, and kindly granted to the
congregation the use of the hall in his premises, which they still occupy for divine worship. Those who had the privilege of hearing him speak at fellowship meetings and other times, could not help admiring the firm and convincing manner in which he would express his mind upon “the truth.” He spoke with much fervency and unction at the last communion at Helmsdale, and, in the course of his remarks, very solemnly referred to the low state of religion in our day, and the great need there was of a time of true revival. He regularly read for some years back such monthly Protestant periodicals as “The Vanguard” and “Protestant Observer,” so as to be acquainted with the state of the Protestant cause. He deplored very much how weak the cause had become in Scotland. His favourite books, besides the Bible, were Boston’s and Bunyan’s works.
Donald suffered much during the last days of his illness, but he endured his affliction with remarkable patience. He felt from the beginning that he would not get over his trouble. When the writer, on parting with him for what proved the last time, said that he hoped he would get better soon, he replied, “Oh, no; is not this the month of June? It is over thirty years this month since I found Christ, and I do not expect to pass it.” As he said, so it happened. He passed away to his rest on the 9th of that month. He was predeceased by his brother Hugh (unmarried) by about six weeks. The latter, though he did not make a public profession of Christ, showed great regard for the truth, and was very attentive at the means of grace.
We express our deepest sympathy with the sorrowing widow, sisters, and other relatives in their sore bereavements. May the Lord be their stay and support!
N. M.
Meeting of Scottish Miners’ Federation.—This Federation met in Edinburgh during the third week of August. The subject of the Cadder disaster was taken up among other matters of business. One of the speakers (Mr. David Weir) called attention to the circumstance that the sad calamity happened on a Sabbath evening, and said that they should do everything in their power to put a stop to Sabbath labour, which he called a “degrading thing.” It appears that the law is that double pay should be given for work done on Sabbath, but that the miners have not always been insisting on this. The opinion was expressed that if the double pay was urged, the mine-owners would cease to ask Sabbath labour, and a resolution was unanimously agreed upon to press this requirement. Truly, this is a poor way of endeavouring to secure the sacred rest of the Lord’s Day. Still, it is good to observe the least stirring of effort to obtain something like a form of Sabbath observance. As we often point out, the neglect of the Lord’s Day is an open door not only for injury to the body, but for fatal ruin to the immortal soul.