196

CLAIMS OF HOME.

every case, the architect's receipt should be in the hands of the building committee before the house is thrown open for public worship; and in no case should ministers of "the glorious gospel" be sent over the country, like mendicant friars, to endure the scorn of some, the snappish remarks of others, and-what is more intolerable than either to a man of fine feeling-the pity of a third class. And, above all things, let not the eye of Christian benevolence, as it sweeps across the moral wilderness of an apostate world, forget a glance of compassion towards the villages and hamlets of the British islands. Let that charity which is born of faith do good on the most extensive scale that her power can embrace, but, oh! let her not forget "to show piety AT HOME!"

CHAPTER VII.

THE INNER LIFE.

"What a fearful crowd

Of wild emotions, passions, fears, and hopes,
Rush like a fierce tornado on the heart,
Burning and maddening by their demon dance,
And leaving desolation in their train!
Wars, hot as ever rocked a continent,
Or made a planet stagger in its path,
Are daily fought within the bleeding soul
Of many a child of Adam. Never yet
Hath the full portrait of a man appeared;
And never yet hath dearest bosom friend
Known all that passed in his companion's soul."

Leask.

OW comparatively insignificant the external events of life appear, when a man retires within himself, and honestly and earnestly examines the processes going on there. The noise of petty rivals at a parish contest; the conflict of parties at a local or general election; the fear of one political sect, and the exultation of another, when one ministry falls and another rises; the commotions consequent upon war or revolution, and the thousand other occurrences which claim the attention of men; how their magnitude sinks into minuteness, when the spirit realizes the fact of its immortality, and examines beneath the light of Scripture

198

THE PLACE OF CIRCUMSTANCES.

the interests which that fact involves. The external, with all its seeming importance, yields to the internal; and the visible retires before the unseen. The health of the inner life may not be neglected with impunity; and he who devotes himself to the benefit of others will not succeed to any great extent if he neglects his own. If religion consisted solely of an intellectual perception of certain doctrines, and an ability to propound and illustrate them, to understand and to speak would be the necessary qualifications of the religious teacher. If sound in doctrine, and apt to teach, he would be a fully qualified man. But, happily for humanity, religion is more than this. It is power, life, health. It creates motives for word and deed; it animates and regulates the intellectual life with a new moral life, and it restores health to the diseased spirit. If it come short in relation to any of these things, in the case of a man who thinks that he is under its influence, that man has reason for deep solicitude.

An autobiography destitute of any revelation of the writer's inner life would have little interest for those who wish to study mind rather than visible phenomena, and men rather than things. This may be thought a subject more appropriate for another pen, and in some respects it is; yet the on-looker, though he be also the intimate friend, is never so fully qualified as the individual himself to give that revelation. "For what man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him?" Frequent incidental glances at the state of my mind under different circumstances have been already given; but the successive stages of one's progress in life either bring out feelings, or impart impressions previously unnoticed or unknown. We are not made by circumstances, in the sense of circumstances being the originating cause; but they modify feelings, and give tone to thought and character, in the sense of their being secondary or mediate causes under Divine

NERVOUS SENSIBILITY.

199

Providence. A number of circumstances arose during the fourth year of my ministry which led to frequent self-study. Domestic cares, repeated inability to meet growing pecuniary demands, incessant labour, in addition to pastoral and pulpit duties, by speaking and lecturing in the villages and towns for many miles around-for which my remuneration was always a "vote of thanks," with, occasionally, travelling expenses-and deep mental anxiety, all acting on a delicate constitution, brought on a nervous debility and prostration, which made life a burden and threatened to bring it to a speedy close. I became most wretchedly sensitive. Everything was wrong. A rap at the door made me start. A cloud passing overhead was the bearer of doom. The whistling of the wind among the branches was the sighing of invisible spirits. If a gig passed at a brisk pace, I was sure that an accident must happen. If any of my people called, I was convinced there was some heavy charge against me. My sleep, when I did sleep, was a succession of wild dreams. When closely shut up in my study I found relief, and in the pulpit I was happy; albeit I knew well that these remedies were only adding to the disease. I took drugs, but in vain. I would not consult a physician, because I could not afford a fee; and I should add, that I wrote at this time a work extending to three hundred pages of manuscript, and which, by the way, never saw the light.

I

At last I was persuaded to consult an eminent physician, residing in a large town twenty miles distant. managed to preserve, notwithstanding my constant difficulties, a guinea from going in another direction, put it in my pocket, and walked to the town. Happily, the skilful doctor was at home. He looked at my tongue, felt my pulse, and sounded my chest carefully. Dr. Scott, who was a fine healthy-looking man, about sixty-five years of age, with grey hair, and a countenance in which energy of purpose, decision of character,

200

THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION.

and benevolence of spirit were attractively blended, then said

"What have you been about, Sir?"

This blunt question might refer to so many things, that the only answer I could give was to act the echo, which I did to perfection, by saying

66 About, Sir?"

"Yes," said he; "I am acquainted with your name and your goings on; and, seeing you have come to me for advice, I tell you, It won't do! You must turn over a new leaf!"

Worse and worse! What could these words mean? I believe, had the doctor tried my pulse again, he would have found a rapid circulation. Seeing my confusion, he smiled and added

"You are perfectly sound, but exhausted by too much thought and labour. You don't need drugs. You have been running about the country, holding forth on all sorts of subjects, to the injury of your system; and you must give it up, at least for a time. Eat and drink more; think and speak less; and, for a month at least, walk about the fields, or sit upon a gate and whistle; that is, if you can whistle."

"Thank you, Doctor," I said, laughing; "this is doubtless, an excellent prescription, but how to take it is the difficulty."

"How take it? Oh! thus: a mutton chop every day, washed down with a glass of home-brewed ale; lock the study door for a month; say 'No' to all plications, and get your brethren to preach for you."

ap

So saying, the Doctor rang the bell, and when the footman entered he ordered him to bring some wine. He filled a glass, and asked me to drink it.

"Thank you, Sir, excuse me," I said; "I am an abstainer."

"I know you are, but you have come to me for advice, and I take the liberty of prescribing for my