more useful, and greatly more interesting, had more of Nature been permitted to appear. These, too, are the chief faults of the memoirs which have furnished the subject of this article, and of which we propose now to give some account. These memoirs are drawn up on the plan which Mason, in his life of Gray, has so happily introduced, and consist of the biographer's narrative, frequently interspersed with Dr Stewart's letters. No plan is better fitted for exhibiting any little peculiarities of character, if it be judiciously executed; but this, we think, is not the case in this instance. The book is in many places rather well written, and, with people of Dr S.'s way of thinking, will necessarily be popular; but to all others it must appear liable to the charges of injudiciousness, illiberality, and mysticism. Confidential letters are given that ought not to have been published; an importance is attached to peculiar opinions which two-thirds of its readers will never understand; and all who come short of fully adopting these opinions, are unsparingly condemned. We are far from saying that the book was written to excite prejudice against the greater proportion of our established clergy; but, nevertheless, we think that such will be, in a great measure, its effect, if its opinions be implicitly received. Wherever their public or private conduct differs from that of Dr S. they are not spared; and the writer has even gone out of his way, in order to lecture professors of divinity for not introducing more of experimental and personal religion into their theological courses! This is a fair sample of the spirit of the book, so far as one of our church parties is concerned; the members of the other have, of course, like Berkeley, "every virtue under heaven!" But to proceed. Dr S. was born at Blair in Athole in 1764: his father was minister of that parish, and also an heritor. After having acquired the elements of classical learning under his father's roof, Dr S. was sent, at the age of thirteen, to St Andrew's, where he distinguished himself, and obtained several prizes. Grammar, (by which, we suppose, are meant languages,) mathematics, and metaphysics, are said to have been his fa vourite studies. Like most other young men whose views are towards the Church, and whose interest is but small, he became a tutor, and seems to have lived in Graham of Greigston's family for four yearshappily enough. His biographer remarks, with great naiveté, "that it cannot be said that he was useful to the souls of any in this family !" and indeed we should have been surprised if he had; for we never either saw or heard of a family that tolerated lectures from their tutor any where, except from the pulpit. Having acquired the necessary qualifications, he was settled in Moulin, a parish adjoining to his father's, in 1785. We shall quote from one of his letters, written immediately before his settlement there, and describing his first visit to Moulin, both because it is among the best of his letters, and the only one that exhibits him in a natural and amiable point of view. "I have had a most agreeable excursion to the Highlands. The object of my journey, the friendly reception I met with wherever I came, good spirits, choice weather, and agreeable company, all conspired to heighten the enjoyment. thought I had never seen Athole to such advantage before. Every wood, every hill and stream, looked jocund. I felt my heart warmed when I approached the I village of Moulin, with an affection some what similar, I suppose, to what one feels for his new-born offspring. I preached on the 28th ult. in English and Gaelic. The church was very full. I am told I gave satisfaction. My call, as far as can be judged, was unanimous The people showed great earnestness in my favour. This, you may believe, was highly pleasing to me, and I indulged the pleasure without scruple, because I thought myself in no hazard of gratifying my vanity by that indulgence: for I have been little in that country since I was a child, and therefore am little known on my own account. The people's attachment to me proceeds from a cause vastly more gratifying than the highest compliments they could respect they retain for my father's memory. I am happy in thinking that I could attribute their attachment to that pay to my own merits-that is, the morning, to make my orisons in the wood where I had often strayed. I found in every tree, and in every spring, an old acquaintance. I stood on a hillock, and looked around me. The view was worth a thousand homilies!"-p. 23. We agree with the biographer in thinking, that in this whole letter "there is much feeling and much taste;" but we do not think, as he does, that the "feeling was not spiritual, nor the taste sanctified!" Dr S. was as yet UNCONVERTED, and consequently continued to cultivate his favourite studies. Among other things, he wrote a letter of many folio pages," to the late Dr Gregory, soon after the publication of his Literary and Philosophical Essays, controverting his opinions respecting the moral liberty of mannot one word of which letter is given in these memoirs. This we regret exceedingly, if the paper be still preserved for the letter passed through the hands of Professor Dugald Stewart, and was deemed by Dr Gregory worthy of a reply. It must therefore have been highly creditable to Dr S.; and even supposing the peculiar views which Dr S., and that party, entertain respecting religion, to be deserving of all the importance here attached to them, still we think it would have done the party no harm to have given an extract from such a letter, proving that these views were held by one of an acute and vigorous mind; while, to such as do not agree with them in these opinions, it would have exhibited Dr S. in a more favourable position, and given the book more interest than it now possesses. to impart his views to others; and was so successful in his own parish, that he published an account of the change of sentiment under the name of a "Revival." He wrote also on this subject to a clerical friend, and to a lady, but was successful with neither. The old man, with his deeds, was there too strong to be dislodged by his arguments. We insert the answer of the lady, because it is both lively and clever. "Since you no longer find pleasure in dances, dinners, and suppers, it is natural for you to decline them; at the same time, there is a degree of civility due to those who pay you civility, that, I should have thought, might have carried you an hour or two to that said ball you mention, without in the least degrading you in any shape. But this is my ignorance "When you feel in your heart an ardent desire to see your friends in they will be happy to see you. But I acknowledge myself one to whom your vi sit will afford no sort of satisfaction, if you are to view it as a sacrifice, a murdering of your time, a paying of a debt, borrowed. No, no, my friend; the pleaor coming to pay the interest of money sure of social intercourse must be mutual, or not at all. I entertained no hope of seeing you this season, so what you say on that subject does not the least surprise me. Such sinners as we would perfectly pollute you. "Strange, indeed, to suppose that I could not read, or would read with negligence, any paper you should send me! Into what is your mind about to contract? I read the letter over, and over, and over again, with all the attention I was capable of, and there is nothing in it to which I make the smallest objection; at the same time, I cannot help observ About this time, Dr S. first visiteding, that the writer of it has an opinion Mr Black, then minister of St Madoes; and from this visit he dates the rise of those reflections which issued in his change of sentimentsin his "passing from death unto life!" Referring to this visit many years afterwards, he says, in a letter, 66 My thoughts took a long flight backwards, and the parlour and the garden at St Madoes appeared to me like an upper chamber in Jerusalem,' and like the garden of Gethsemane!!" How would it look to complete the parallel? Having thus obtained new light himself, Dr S. zealously endeavoured both of his own divine inspiration, and that of his friends, that suits not at all with my faith. Warmly to pursue the study of the gospel is highly proper and meritorious in all, more especially clergymen; but it appears strange to me, that studying the gospel of peace should sour you at all the world, and make you think, that all who are not exactly of your way of thinking are no longer worthy of your regard or attention. really believe that you even refuse us the hope of being saved."-p. 121. In Feb. 1799, Dr S. lost his wife: let the reader contrast the following extract from a letter communicating the news of that event with the first one which we quoted, and say if the social and tender affections seem to be improved; perhaps every thing that is natural is sinful! "Now, my dear Brother, I have joyful news to tell!! My Louisa is safely arrived at her heavenly home. Her passage was remarkably smooth, and her exit speedy. Yesterday morning her spirit took its departure about ten o'clock; and, long ere now, it is with God who gave it!!!" p. 154. We must pass over many things in the book, which, though trifling in themselves, are amusing, from the vast importance attached to them. Among these are Dr S.'s energy in preventing a volunteer ball; his endeavour to suppress proclamations of sales, or other secular business, with in the church, or even the affixing of advertisements to its doors; his pious refusal to attend a ball and supper given by the officers of a volunteer regiment, of which he was chaplain, because it was to be only a week after a national fast, &c.; all of which, with many others, are given, we think, with no great judgment, because they rather too forcibly remind one of the reformations which P.P., parish clerk, effected in his department, in the way of excluding dogs from the church, and preventing children from munching apples during the service. Dr S., from some similarity of religious sentiments, seems also to have been looked to with a wishful eye by the Itinerant Missionaries, and others, who had separated themselves from the Established Church, as a probable convert to the Independents; but, on this subject, he would admit of no change. He says in a letter," Mr S. cautions me not to encourage too much. It is right. It is impossible to go all lengths with - I must stop somewhere, and then he will be as much hurt as if I had yielded nothing." We think the Evangelical Party might sometimes accept the good sense of this extract, as an answer to their own attempts at conversion! Dr S. had now married a second time; his family was increasing; his income is said seldom to have exceeded £.70 per annum ; and, though as zealous as ever, he was not quite so successful as at first. Various plans were therefore suggested by his friends to effect his translation to Edinburgh. We shall insert part of a letter, in which he states his own sentiments respecting a translation. It may assist us in estimating the true amount of the statements respecting the "Revival," at Moulin ; at any rate, it shews the powerful effect of different circumstances upon the mind when viewing the same objects. "I shall now, my dear Sir, submit to you what has occurred to us in considering the question of removal to Edinburgh. As to the state of the people here, there has been no gross declension, nor scandalous falling off among those who appear to be truly enlightened! But we cannot reckon on any accession to their number for many months past. There is, or apand a dullness of spirit, hanging over pears to be, a diminution of liveliness, most of us. "Some years ago I should have thought it more dangerous to have left them exposed to the various winds of doctrine than now, and I believe they would have been more hurt at the thought of separation. Indeed, if they should get a young Evangelical Minister in exchange for me, I am persuaded the affections and interests which would be excited would en liven their devotion, and prove of material advantage. But, if they get one of a different description, the consequences would be melancholy."-p. 213. To these "melancholy consequerces," as might be anticipated, we find the people of Moulin were left; for, though the proposed translation to Edinburgh did not take place, Dr S. soon after received from the towncouncil of Dingwall an invitation to become minister of that place, which he accepted. As some compensation for leaving them, however, he solicited the Duke of Athole, the patron, to bestow upon them an evangelical clergyman, but received no answer; and it is openly regretted, in the Memoirs, that the present most respectable incumbent of that parish is not so. We really do not know by what right one clergyman of the Church of Scotland is entitled either to insinuate that another clergyman, his equal, has incorrect views of the truth, or, in other words, is not evangelical, or to publish such an extract as the following from a confidential letter: Some attempts were made to influence the Duke of Athole, patron of the parish of Moulin, to present a man of evangelical principles to the vacant living, but without effect. The consequence is, that some have withdrawn from the ministry of the present incumbent, and some have removed out of the parish. I hear but melancholy accounts of the greater part of the people. They are growing careless and licentious. p. 247. At Dingwall, as might be expected, Dr S. found things in a sad way. "Their former clergyman," it seems, "was a man of taste and learning, made a good figure in ecclesiastical courts, was a ready and polite preacher, and lived on good terms with the genteel neighbourhood for which Dingwall is noted." But, then, "of his pastoral fidelity not much is known. The Sabbath was little regarded: many were not only lax, but accustomed to draw topics of merriment from the gravity, the devout composure, and the strict lives of the few who professed godliness." However, Dr S. had not been above two months there till " serious people remarked a shaking among the dry bones. The house of an experienced Christian in the town, D. M., which ased to be opened on the Sabbath evening to a few who attended to hear reading and prayer, is now crowded. A mason in the neighbouring parish, who was anxious to send a letter in haste to his son, about a piece of work he had undertaken, on a Sabbath morning applied in vain to different persons to write for him. One had cut his thumb, another was not at home. He came to Dingwall, to try to get his letter written there. From this he was led to go to Dingwall church. He was much impressed; and next day confessed to a serious acquaintance the steps by which he had been led, and that he thought the sermon he heard was all levelled at himself." p. 234. Would not one imagine he was reading an Evangelical Magazine, and not a letter of a clergyman of the Church of Scotland? The following is still more like: "I still feel for your situation," says Dr S. in a letter to a friend in Moulin; "and indeed my heart and affections often go out towards you in secret; and I feel, like Paul, a strong desire to see your face in the flesh, if the VOL. XI. Lord would honour me so far as to es tablish your faith, and impart to you some spiritual gift." p. 234. Will not inspiration itself be claimed next? Notwithstanding these promising symptoms, and although Dr S. was equally zealous as at Moulin in instituting Sabbath schools and prayer-meetings, and particularly active in suppressing theatrical exhibi tions, which (such is the diligence of Satan) had extended even to that northern region, there was no "revival" at Dingwall; and, notwithstanding all his exertions, it ever continued to be there only "the day of small things!" Dr S.'s health began now to be impaired. In 1811 he had been se verely attacked by a painful and very dangerous disease, which occasionally returned with more alarming symptoms, and which often required the most prompt and skilful medical assistance. With the view of obtaining this in greater perfection, he was induced to remove to Edinburgh, where he arrived in October 1819. During the winter his health was considerably improved, and, with the view of perfecting his recovery, he began to consider the propriety of relinquishing his parish to an ordained assistant, and of residing constantly in that city, when a vacancy occurred in the Canongate Church. This altered his plans; he became a candidate for that charge, and, by the aid of strong interest, was successful. He was inducted in July 1820. The disease, however, under which he laboured, was such as could not be removed. In the spring of 1821 it returned with more violence than ever, and, in the end of May, prematurely terminated his earthly career, at the age of 57. He has left but few publications. He contributed occasional papers to various periodical works; translated into Gaelic Watts' Preservative; revised a Gaelic version of the Psalms; and, at the time of his death, was employed in superintending the publication of a Gaelic Bible. His most valuable publication seems to be a Gaelic Grammar, which passed through two editions, is said to display great acuteness and research, and which procured for him the approbation of the Highland Society, M Few of his later sermons seem to have been fully written out. The present volume contains only six, which are said to be all that were fit for publication; but to those who are the most likely to regret the want of more, the numerous extracts from his letters and diary will be some compensation. His earlier, and probably more elegant pulpit compositions, appeared to himself afterwards so defective in doctrine, that the greater part of them was committed to the flames; and on a MS. copy of the remainder, the following damnatory epitaph was inscribed in Latin by himself, in 1817: Youthful trifles, produced in the season of ignorance and darkness; possessing nothing of the savour of the Gospel; abounding in errors; fit only to be pitied, fit only to be destroyed; to be pardoned solely by the clemency of a merci ful God, through the grace of his only-begotten Son. Our opinion of the merits of the book may be easily gathered from the preceding pages. The plan of it is happy enough; but it is in general but poorly executed, and miserably deficient in judgment and liberality. Nothing could be better adapted for developing little traits of character; but can any thing be more void of interest, or more unnatural, than the aspect in which Dr S. is here exhibited? We have always heard him characterized as a man of taste and accomplishment, but we confess he does not appear so in the pages before us. We give him entire credit for sincerity and piety; but we think his sincerity appears harsh, and his piety repulsive. If he did write egotistically of himself, and harshly of his successor in Moulin, there was surely no necessity for publishing such letters; and undoubtedly there must have been materials, either written or recollected, which might have enabled his biographer to place his character and attainments in a far more engaging view. As it is, how ever, he appears as unnatural, illiberal, and enthusiastic, as ever did monk of the dark ages. We do not think Dr S. more pious than Cowper; and yet how playful, amiable, and attractive is his character! He, too, was evangelical, but he did not live as if in a cloister. He disdained neither to notice nor record his opinions of books, men, and manners. And yet how easily might a biographer have given us a life of Cowper as unnatural and forbidding as he had pleased! He had only to quote from his narrative of his brother's death, from the letters written before his correspondence with Lady Hesketh, or Lady Austin, and to pass over all the rest,— and the thing would have been complete. We think it impossible to read either Cowper's memoirs or his letters, without admiration for the man, and a wish to be like him; but we doubt if ever this shall be the case with the book before us. We, of course, do not suppose Dr S. equal to Cowper, nor do we at all know what materials there were to work upon; but if there were livelier and more natural documents, the biographer is inexcuseable for not having made use of them; if there were not, the book should have been one-half shorter. After all, however, these peculiar views of religion tend exceedingly to sour and narrow the mind. Dr S. uniformly speaks of the most innocent pleasures, literary or social, as at best but snares that ought to be avoided: now, if all the arts and elegancies of life be snares, vanities, and occasions of sinning, then surely men ought to retire from such dangerous temptations, as did the monks of old. Indeed we hold the motive that formerly led them into the retired and austere observances of a monastery, and that at present leads the evangelical to avoid social intercourse or literary pleasure, and to devote so much time to morbid meditation and formal devotion, to be perfectly the same in kind, and differing only in degree. If the whole Christian world had thought as they think-if it had been what is now called Evangelical-there could have been nothing like the present attainments in science, arts, or literature; for every thing like ardent attachment to either of these pursuits is denounced as sinful, and as leading the thoughts too much away from God. And if that party be the only wise, then is Christianity, not a light that has already enlightened and improved the globe, but a feeble taper, which two-thirds of the inhabitants of every kingdom in the world have not once beheld in the long space of 1800 years! |