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EI
MEMOIRS
REV. WALTER M. LOWRIE,
MISSIONARY TO CHINA
EDITED BY HIS FATHER.
NEW YORK:
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 285 BROADWAY. PHILADELPHIA: WILLIAM S. MARTIEN.
1849.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, BY WALTER LOWRIE, In the Clerk's Office for the Southern District of New York.
STEREOTYPED BY THOMAS B. SMITH, 21G WILLIAM STREET, N. Y.
PREFACE.
The Editor of this Memoir has done little more than to select and arrange the papers of his beloved son. A few remarks have been made with the view of noticing his early years, and connect- ing the different periods of his short but active and not unvaried life. The plan ado[)ted was to let him speak for himself in his letters and journals ; though some letters from his missionary brethren, and others in the ministry at home, who knew him, have been given at the end of the volume. From these every reader will form his own estimate of his character and acquirements. A few of the many letters from Christian friends, as the sad intelligence of his death reached them, have also been inserted.
His letters for the most part were hastily written, many of them in the confidence of Christian and endeared friendship. His jour- nals also were written at the dates mentioned, and his other en- gagements gave him no time to correct or copy them.
Two volumes of private journals were found after his death among his papers ; but they were destroyed, in accordance with his special written request to his friend Rev. M. J. Culbertson, or either of his surviving colleagues.
The work has been stereotyped, and the entire expense of this edition has been defrayed by Christian friends, to whom his memory is very dear. Whatever profit may arise from the sale will be applied to the enlargement of the Ningpo mission, under the care of the Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
FEBRUARY, 1819— SEPTEMBER, 1847, EARLY LIFE AND COURSE AT COLLEGE.
LETTERS.
|
Pag-e |
||
|
ffie Father. |
Religious Impressions, |
. 3 |
|
u |
Revival in College, . |
. 5 |
|
u |
First Communion, |
. 7 |
|
Ifis Mother. |
Religious Views, |
. 7 |
|
His Father. |
Duty as to the Ministry, . |
. 8 |
|
<i |
Religious Views, |
. 10 |
His Mother. Foreign Missions. Death of Lyman and Monson, . " Feelings. A Grave- Yard,
His Father. Duty as to Foreign Missions, " The Question decided,
" Through College. Grade,
Page
12 13 15 16
17
CHAPTER II.
OCTOBER, 1837— JANUARY, 1842.
RETURN HOME FROM COLLEGE. — COURSE IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY AT PRINCETON. — ACCEPTED AS A FOREIGN MISSIONARY. — SAILS FOR CHINA.
LETTERS.
John Lloyd. College Times. Missions, . 20
Roger Owen. On Sabbath Schools, . . 23
John Lloyd. Swartz. Comfort in Christ, . 24
Roger Owen. On Sabbath Schools, . . 26
His Mother. Daily Employments, . . 28
Roger Owen. Sabbath Schools. Missions, . 28
His Mother. Christian Duties. Studies, . 30
John M. Lowrie. Death of Relatives, . . 32
John Lloyd. Persoaal Religion, . . .32
Roger Owen. Tone of College Piety, . . 34
John Lloyd. Love of Christ. Missions, . 35
Roger Owen. Sabbath Schools, . . .36
John Lloyd. Western Africa, . . .37
His Mother. Seminary Students, . . .38
John Lloyd. Africa. India. China, . . 39
His Mother. Beauty of Scripture, . . 40
Thomas W. Kerr. Missionary Spirit, . . 41
John M. Lowrie. Study of the Bible, . . 41
John Lloyd. Christian Course. Africa, . 42
Two Sabbath School Scholars, ... 45 His Mother. Strangers and Pilgrims, . . 49 John Lloyd. Studies. Works of God, . . 50 His Mother. Journey to the West, . . 50 Executive Committee. Missions, . . .51 John Lloyd. Friendship. Prospects, . . 52 John O. Procter. How little we know, . 53 His Mother. The Country. Journey, . . 54 His Father. Change of Field to China, . 56 His Mother. Detroit. Forest. Flowers. Ni- agara. Grave-yard. Missions, 57
" Journey West 63
Wm. H. Hornblower. Presence of Christ, . 64
John O. Procter. On leaving for China, . 65
John Lloyd. Feelings. Faith, . . . 66
Mrs. Ann Porter. On leaving Friends, . . 68
Rev. Thos. W. Kerr. Sabbath Schools, . 68
John M. Lowrie. On the Eve of Sailing, . 70
CHAPTER III.
JANUARY 19— MAY 27, 1849.
VOYAGE TO CHINA. — JOURNAL IN THE HUNTRESS.
Parting from Friends, 71
Sea Sickness, 72
A Gale. Pleasant Days, 73
Carlyle. Sermon on board, .... 77
Reading. Wisdom of God. Starp, . . 79
Sermon. Trade Winds. Flying-Fish, . . 81
Trade Winds. The Sabbath, ... 84
Studies. A Shark. Birth-day, . . . S5
A Calm. Sunsets. Sailors, .... 87
Stars. The Sailmaker, 89
Rocks of Martin Vas. Stars, ... 91
Magellan Clouds. Missions, ... 93
A Squall. The Ocean. Home, ... 95
A Sailor. The Ocean. A Gale. Albatross, 97
Stormy Petrels. A Storm. Winds, . . 101
A Ship. Dreams. Trade Winds, . . 105
VI
CONTENTS.
Sabbath. Preaching to Sailors, Bain. Sea Gnats. Thunder, An bland. Boobies. Java, Heathen. Ships. Angier, .
PaRc I Page
109 Angier. Malays. Learned Sailor, . . 121
111 China Sea. Missions. Preaching, . . 123
113 Sailmaker. Gales. China, .... 126
117 I To his Mother, with his Journal, ... 129
CHAPTER IV.
1842.
LANDING IN CHINA. — VOYAGE IN THE SEA QUEEN. — SHIPWRECK IN THE HARMONY.- RETURN TO MACAO.
LETTERS AND JOURNALS.
His Mother. Macao. Hong Kong, His Father. China. Missions, . John Lloyd. Mission to China, . His Mother. China Sea. Journal, Embarks. Lascars. Alone, Calms. Monsoon. Currents. Gale, Delays. Currents. Storms. Faith, Providence. The Parting, . Course of the Sea Queen, John M. Lowrie. Studies at Sea, Rev. T. L. McBryde. Plana delayed,
131 134 138 140 141 146 151 15.1 156 157 158
His Mother. Scenes in Manila, . . . 160
Rev. Thos. W. Kerr. Stay in Manila, . 161
His Brother. Voyage on China Sea, . . 162
Shipwreck in the Harmony, . . . . 165
To the Second Presbytery of New York, . 178
His Mother. Missionary Trials, . . . 182
His Father. First Letter from Home, . 184
His Mother. Letters from Home, . . 184
James Lenox, Esq. Romanists in China, . 185
His Father. Early Instruction, . . . 187
John Lloyd. Missions in China, . . . 188
CHAPTER V.
1843.
RESIDENCE IN MACAO. — VOYAGE UP THE COAST. — DESCRIPTION OF AMOY AND CHANG-CHOW. — RETURN TO MACAO.
LETTERS AND JOURNALS.
Rev. J. M. Lowrie. Missions in China, His Mother. Various Thoughts, .
" Home. Heaven. Sabbath,
John Lloyd. Chinese Language, His Father. Effects of Heat. Preaching. Chi- nese Dictionary, Journal to Amoy and Chusan, Boat Population. Hong Kong, Opium. Amoy. Infanticide, Grave of Mrs. Boone. Monsoon, Opium. Kulangsu, Budhist Temple, . River. Bay. Boats, Chang-Chow. Mandarins, . The City. Bridges. Temples, Villages, Multitudes, .
193 194 196 198
202 203 204 206 210 212 214 215 218 223 227
Chobey. Haetnng. Return to Amoy, . 229
Remarks on the foregoing, .... 231
Return. .Sturm. Danger, .... 234
Good News from Home, .... 236
Death of Rev. Mr. Dyer, .... 237
To his Father. Morrison's Bible, . . 238
" Missionary Trials, . . 241
His Brother. Perils of the Sea, ... 245 Society of Inquiry, Western Theological
Seminary, 246
His Father. Missionary Statements, . . 251
His Mother. Chinese Customs, . . . 252 Society of Inquiry, Princeton Theological
Seminary, 254
His Father. Sir Henr>' Pottinger's censure
of the Visit to Chang-Chow, . . ,261
CHAPTER VI.
1844.
RESIDENCE IN MACAO, — LETTERS, — CHINESE PRINTING WITH METAL TYPE.- ARRIVAL OF NEW MISSIONARIES. THEIR FIELDS OF LABOR.
His Mother. Sabbath-breaking, . . . 267 « His Teacher. Idolatry, . . 268 His Father. Chinese Letter, with Transla- tion and Notes, 270
John Lloyd. Christian Friendship, . . 274 His Mother. Passing Thoughts, . . .275
His Father. To visit China. A Solemn
Question by his Teacher, , , . . 276
Rev. Levi Janvier. China Missions, . , 277
Recollections of a Missionary, , , , 279
Rev. J. M. Lowrie. English Preaching, . 283
Rev, J, Montgomery. Trials, . . , 284
CONTENTS.
VU
CHAPTER VII.
1845.
DIFFERENT MISSIONS ESTABLISHED. — LEAVES MACAO. — VOYAGE UP THE COAST.- NINGPO. CHINESE WRITTEN AND SPOKEN LANGUAGE.
LETTERS AND JOURNALS.
His Father. Leaves Macao, Voyage up the Coast. Changes, Monsoon. Currents. Sailors, Shanghai. Woosung. Chusan, Books injured. Tinghae, Ningpo. City. Country, Chinese Dinner. Idol Worship, Opium. Festival of all the Gods, Suicide,. Proverljs. Idols, . Monks. God of Thunder, Mrs. Hepburn. Love of Christ,
287
2a3
291 293 296 298 303 305 308 310 313
His Father. Written and Spoken Language
of China 315
His Mother. Psalm xxx. 5, . . . .323 His Father. Various Thoughts, . . .334 Leaves from the Note- Book, . . . 325
Tower of Ningpo. Rice, .... 328
Visit to Teentung, 330
Visit to Pooto, 334
Wedding. Females. Teacher, . . . 341
Society of Inquiry, Princeton Theol. Sem., . 343
His Father. Chinese Ignorance, . . . 348
" Chinese Translations, . . 349
CHAPTER VIII.
1846.
MISSIONARY LABORS AT NINGPO. — HEATHEN CUSTOMS. WORSHIP. — SUPERSTITIOUS
FEARS. — PREACHING IN CHINESE.
LETTERS AND JOURNALS.
His Mother. Deaths. New Year, . . 352
" Plan of House, . . . 354
Rev. Levi Janvier. Writing Letters, . . 3^6 His Father. The Millennium, . . .357 Rev. D. Wells. Prayer, . . . .359
Rev. John Lloyd. Chinese Tones, . . 359
His Father. The Heat. Teachers, . . 362
His Brother. Superstitions, . . . 365
His Mother. Changes 366
His Father. Shin. Shang te, . . . 366
His Mother. Reminiscences, . . . 367
His Father. Chinese Dictionary, . . . 369 James Lenox, Esq. Music. Cuts. Return
of Missionaries, 370
■ His Father. Preaching. Chinese Books.
Dictionary, 374
' Rev. John Lloyd. Religion, . . . 376
Report of the Ningpo Mission, . . . 379
The Use of Engravings, .... 386
His Brother. The Millennium, . . . 388
Journal. Fear of Poisoning, . . . 391
! Rains. Drought. Heat, .... 392
' Fear of Evil Spirits, ... . 395
Earthquake. Suspicions, . , , . 396
Chinese Pleaching. Cruelty, . . . 399
Marriage Ceremony, 401
! Fruit Pedler. Chinese Preaching, . . 403
I Chinese Audience, 405
CHAPTER IX.
1847.
MISSIONARY LABORS AT NINGPO. — VOYAGE TO SHANGHAI. — MANCHU LANGUAGE. — CHINESE TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE. — IMPORTANCE OF SELECTING PROPER TERMS.
LETTERS AND JOURNALS.
His Brother. Chinese Language, . . 408 His Father. Type. Dictionary, . . .409
Rev. Levi Janvier. Trials. Preaching, . 410
His Mother. Labors. Loneliness, . . 412 His Father. Books. Millennium. Shorter
Catechism, 413
On the Minutes of the General Assembly of
1846, 416
His Father. Translation of the Bible. Na- tive Convert, 420
His Mother. Heathen Procession, . . 422
Journal. Preaching. Incidents, . . . 426
The Sabbath. Changing Audience, . . 428
Chinese Language. Dogs, .... 431
Various Questions. Inquirers, . . . 432
Worship of Ancestors, 434
Voyage to Shanghai, 4.35
Chinhai. Commerce. Chapoo, . . . 436
Canal. The Sabbath. Shanghai, . . 437
His Father. Chapoo. Dictionary, . . 438
His Mother. Health, 440
His Brother. On the proper Translation of
the word God, 441
Rev. Joseph Owen. Same subject, . ! 443
His Father. Manchu Language, . . . 443
On the real Trials of the Foreign Mis^onaryj 445
VIU
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER X.
LETTERS PROM MISSIONARIES AND OTHERS, ON THE DEATH AND CHARACTER OF THE REV. W. M. LOWRIE.
Rev. A. W. Loomis,
Right Rev. W. J. Boone, D.D.,
Resolutions of the Canton Mission,
Rev. John Lloyd, .
Rev. T. L. McBryde,
Rev. Thomas McClatchie.
Rev. E. W. Syle, .
Rev. .Joseph Owen,
Rev. John Wray, .
Rev. Levi Janvier,
Rev. James Wilson,
Rev. James B. Ramsey,
Rev. R. M. Loughridge,
Rev. John Layton Wilson,
Rev. James Read Eckard,
Rev. John O. Procter, .
Page 456
458 462 463 465 466 467 469 471 472 473 475 475 476 477 478
Rev. John M. Lowrie, . Rev. Charles Hodge, D.D., • Rev. Samuel Miller, D.D., . Rev. John A. Savage, . Rev. Joseph H. Jones, D.D., . Rev. Wm. S. Plumer, D.D., . Joseph P. Engles, Esq., Rev. Wm. M. Atkinson, D.D., Rev. W. H. Foote, D.D., Rev. Wm. C. Anderson, D.D., Rev. Loyal Young, Rev. John N. Campbell, D.D., Mrs. A. H. Richardson, . Right Rev. George Smith, Sunday Thoughts of a Layman, Rev. A. Alexander, D.D., Cenotaph, ....
Pag« 479 481 482 483 483 484 485 486 487 488 488 489 490 491 493 496 501
MEMOIR.
CHAPTER I.
1819—1837.
EARLY LIFE LETTERS WHILE IN COLLEGE.
Walter Macon Lowrie, the third son of Walter and Amelia liOwrie, was born in Butler, Penn., on the 18th of February, 1819. Until his eighth year, his father was absent from home during the winter months. This left the principal part of liis early training and education to his excellent mother, and well and faithfully did she perform this responsible and sacred trust. From his infancy he possessed a mild and cheerful temper. He was a general favorite with his playmates, and always ready to engage in the usual sports of the play-ground. It was often the subject of remark, that he was never known to get into a quarrel, or even an angry dispute with his associates. To his parents he was al- ways obedient and kind, open and ingenuous ; he was never known to use deception or falsehood. His brothers and sisters shared his warmest affection and love, and his time with them seemed to be made up of pure enjoyment.
At an early period he was sent to school, where he learned the usual branches of a common Enghsh education. It was soon perceived by his teachers, that it required but little effort on his part to get the lessons assigned to him ; and the place he usually oc- cupied was at the head of the class. In his tenth year his pa- rents removed to Washington city, and for a part of the year he was taught by his father in the higher rules of arithmetic, in geography, and ancient and modern history. In his eleventh and twelfth years, he spent two terms under an able teacher in a clas- sical grammar school.
At this period the health of his beloved mother was gradually declining, and her physicians advised that she should spend the
1
» MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
summers in Pennsylvania, and the winters in Washington. In these circumstances it was deemed best that Walter, although not fourteen years of age, should be sent to Jefferson College. Two of his brothers had already graduated at that college, and his fa- ther was well acquainted with the president and the professors. A home was found for hira in the family of the Rev. Professor Kennedy, who watched over him with a parent's care. The same montli in which he reached the college, in November, 1832, he re- ceived the sad intelligence of his dear mother's death. Most deeply did he feel this severe bereavement, and bitterly did he mourn over the loss of one so \'«ry dear to him. The account of her calm and peaceful departure, full of faith and trust in her Sa- viour, which he soon afterwards received, whilst it made a deep impression on his mind, tended much to relieve the bitterness of his grief After spending a year in the preparatory department, he entered the freshman class in October, 1833, and continued in the college, with some interruptions for relaxation, till he gradua- ted in September, 1837.
In the summer of 1834, he was at home from the first of August till the last of October. His father was somewhat apprehensive in regard to his health, and believed that some relaxation from his stu- dies would be of service, even if it should require him to spend ano- ther year in the college. He retained his place in the class, how- ever, and kept up with the usual studies without difficulty. The family were then spending the summer in Butler. Here he first met with his second mother, and he seemed almost at once to transfer to her the affection he had entertained for his own mother. Nor was this a transient feeling. His affection and deep respect and esteem for her continued till his lamented death, as the letters and journals addressed to her will abundantly show.
During this visit he accompanied his parents and one of his brothers, and a sister in declining health, to the falls of Niagara. He greatly enjoyed the company of his friends on this journey, and was filled with wonder and awe at the stupendous displays of God's power in this mighty cataract. He accompanied the family to Washington, and was present at the calm and peaceful death of his beloved sister, in the last of September, 1834. In November he returned to the college, his health much improved by his temporary absence.
Soon after his return, that seminary and the neighborhood were blessed with a precious and powerful revival of religion. Many
LETTERS WHILE IN COLLEGE. 6
of the students in the college, and laige numhers in the congregations of that region, were added to the church. Most of these students afterwards entered the ministry. The history of this revival and its subsequent results, if they were written, would show how im- portant a period of life is the college coUrse of every student. Probably the attention and the prayers of the church have been too little turned towards her young men in the different colleges. The remark will be generally found true, that " as is the piety of the student in college, so will it be in the theological seminary, and in the ministry."
In this revival, after a time of deep conviction of sin, he ob- tained a hope of peace with God in the Saviour. He was then in his sixteenth year, and his letters from this period show the state of his mind, as he became more and more instructed in Christian experience and warfare. With a number of the students who were admitted to full communion in the church at the same time, he formed a most endeared and lasting friendship, and with many of these he kept up a correspondence till his death.
Canonsburg, December 31st, 1.834.
My Dear Father —
I would have \\'ritten to you yesterday to tell you my state of mind, but I thought I had best wait a while, to see whether what I wanted to tell you was really true. I can now, however, as I humbly trust, say that I have experienced the love of Christ shed abroad in my soul, and the renewing and sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit. I have not, it is true, those high exciting joys that many others speak of, nor have I had those deep and pungent convictions of sin that others have. But I can say, that though I as yet see but little of Christ, and of his exceeding love to me in my lost and ruined condition, yet what little I do see, fills me with love and peace, and an earnest desire to see more and more of Him, and to lay myself down and give up my soul at the foot of his cross.
How this feeling originated I can scarcely tell. On Monday, I was deeply impressed with the necessity of being assured of sal- vation that day, but I had not found any reason to believe I had obtained it. After sermon there was an inquiry meeting, and Mr. Deruelle conversed very kindly with me ; patiently set himself to remove any doubts and difficulties, and told me that all I had to do was to give up all hopes in anything that I could do, in the way of prayers or resolutions, and just trust in Christ. He spoke so confidently and cheerfully, tliat I thought perhaps I might be saved. After he was gone, a young acquaintance, also under se- rious impressions, and much distressed, came and entered into con-
4 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
versation with me. During the course of this conversation, which was entirely about Christ and his promises to all who come to him, I felt my heart warming, and full of love and zeal for Christ. Shortly after a hymn was given out, and I attempted to sing it, but my heart seemed to rush up to my mouth, and I could scarce refrain fiom laughing out, so much joy did I feel. This feeling continued till the next morning, and I felt inexpressibly happy ; but about eight or nine, A. M., I felt that I was again becoming insensi- ble, and I was greatly perplexed, and knew not what to do. This feehng increased until about two P. M. There was to be a meeting of those who had a hope of salvation that evening, and I felt great doubt as to the propriety of attending. I mentioned this to my room-mate, who is, I believe, the most pious student about the college, and he made a few remarks and prayed with me. This relieved me somewhat, and I attended the meeting.
While there the hymn " Alas ! and did my Saviour bleed," was sung, and I felt every doubt removed and very joyful. However, trusting to myself, after a few hours I felt unhappy. I had still the hope, but had no joy at all, and seemed to myself to be travel- ling in a path I knew was right, with just sufficient light to show that it was not the wrong path. I could not see anything at all before me. In this condition I remained. This morning I had a little more light, and now I can see a little. I hope and trust that the light will increase " more and more unto the perfect day." I feel peaceful, and willing to commit myself to my Saviour, to do with me just as he pleases. I desire to have no will of my own, but to depend entirely upon him, for everything. Still, however, I have great need of humility. Pride is my besetting sin, and I fear that my course will be marked with many rebellions, and much distress on account of this sin. It has grown with my growth and strengthened with my strength, and will no doubt be employed by Satan to bring about my ruin. May God keep and preserve me from it ! I have also much need of faith. In this I am wo- fully defective, and when the hour of trial comes, I fear much. It is my earnest prayer that I may have more faith and more hu- mility.
I may be deceived in the whole matter, and if I should, I know not what shall become of me ; but it is my earnest prayer, that if so, I may be vmdeceived. and led in the way everlasting. I now, my dear father, need your prayers and counsels more than ever ; for I feel greatly my need of some experienced Christian, who knows me as well as you do, to direct me.
There have been a considerable number here, who hope they have experienced a change of heart : how many I cannot say. As yet, we cannot speak certainly as to any of them ; and there is great need of prudence in speaking and writing about such things, so as to avoid bringing disgrace upon the holy religion of Jesus. That the S|)irit of God is here, every one will admit ; but the result is known only to the searcher of the hearts, and trier of
LETTERS WHILE IN COLLEGE. 5
the reins of the children of men. We would hope and pray that these "mercy drops" may be succeeded by a great shower, and that the influence of this may extend to all parts, not only of ihe Synod of Pittsburg, but of our country ; and that its influence may be felt to the remotest corners of the earth. There is noth- ing too hard for the Lord, and we may reasonably expect that, by prayer and faith, every student of this college may become a ser- vant of Christ. We are told to ask and it shall be given, seek and we shall find, and that if we '• open our mouths wide," the Lord will "fill them." O father, pray for this college.
It is, of course, too soon for me to think as yet of my future profession ; but this will, if it be true, make a great ditference in my choice. There is a great deal in deciding quickly and soon, and then making everything tend to that one object. I remain your aflfectionate son in the Lord,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Canonshurg, January 6th, 1835. My Dear Father —
I received your kind letter of Dec. 31st, yesterday, and can truly say that I never perused a letter with greater pleasure than that one, both on account of its intrinsic excellence, and also because it afforded me the strongest proof that you cared as much and more for my soul than for my body. You Avill have heard be- fore now that I have been enabled to give myself to the blessed Jesus. Nor have I repented of the choice. I can truly say that during the past week, I have felt a greater amount of real, calm peace and joy, than I ever felt in all my life. It is true, I am not without doubts and fears, and I have several times been inclined to doubt, whether I ever did experience a saving change of heart. But, having carefully, and I trust prayerfully, applied every test in my power to- examine the sincerity of my heart, 1 am enabled to say, though still with "fear and trembling," that "Jesus is mine and I am his." My particular views of Christ, though very in- complete, are that He is one " altogether lovely ;" a " Lamb with- out spot or blemish ;" that he is holy, just, and good, beyond all ideas which mortals can form of those attributes. My views of God, the Father, are, that he is one who dwells in " light inac- cessible, and full of glory ;" who while he looks with hatred upon sin, is nevertheless, by the intercession of the blessed Saviour and his death on the cross, perfectly willing to love and protect all who come to him by his son. Of God, the Holy Ghost, I have so in- definite an idea that I cannot express it ; it is like " the wind that bloweth, and we hear the sound thereof, and cannot tell whence it Cometh or whither it goeth."
As you may, perhaps, wish to hear some accounts of the rise and progress of this revival, I give this short account of it. On last Thursday, two weeks ago, which was a fast day for the Synod
6 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
of Pittsburg, there was preaching, and one or two were awakened. There was preaching also on Saturday, but still it was not known to many that anything was going on. Sabbath was sacrament day. On Sabbath night, Mr. Deruelle delivered a most eloquent and powerful sermon. I paid very little attention to it at the time, and do not now remember the text ; but he described in a very forcible manner, the joys of heaven and the terrors of hell. This awakened some ; and I believe that it was a remark made to me the next day, that it was a sermon calculated to excite thought at least, that made me think about it. On Monday there was preach- ing, and those who were anxious Avere requested to stay for con- versation. I was anxious to do so, but was ashamed and did not ; there were, however, some who did. Encouraged by this and by the number who attended. Dr. Brown determined to have a pro- tracted meeting.- The numl^er of anxious inquirers increased at every meeting, but for two or three or more days, there were but one or two hopeful conversions. This was mentioned, and Chris- tians were invited to pray for converting grace. In about four days there were one or two of the students who were awakened, and had yielded themselves to Christ. Of the citizens there are yet, I believe, but a small proportion, about one third, who have obtained a hope. Some have gone back to the world, others are wavering, and until lately the work seemed to dechne. Now it is a little on the increase, but not as much as could be wished. There are, I suppose, at least thirty of ihe students who have ob- tained a hope in Christ, probably twelve or fifteen who have gone back, and about ten who are yet lingering. Of the citizens, prob- ably twenty have obtained a hope, and there are as many as thirty or forty who are yet in suspense. This night will probably be the last of these meetings. Mr. Deruelle, who has labored faithfully, and under God with much success here, is going away. There have been no other methods of proceeding adopted than preaching and conversation ; but these have been blessed by the Holy Spirit.
None can make objections of any force, because there were no improper means used, and the old version of the Psalms was used at the meetings. Every one confesses that the work is of God and not of man ; and if not wofuUy deceived, many souls will to all eternity bless God for this revival. I shall finish this letter after the meeting this evening.
January 7th. I was prevented from finishing this last night, by the lateness of the hour when meeting was over. It is not the intention now of Dr. Brown to discontinue these meetings; there will be preaching to-night as usual, and for some time yet. I am your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
LETTERS WHILE IN COLLEGE.
Cmionsburg, March 9th, 1835. My Dear Father —
As Congress has now adjourned, I suppose you will have more time for writing than you have heretofore had. Since I wrote last, I have enjoyed my usual health. Yesterday the Lord's Sup- per was celebrated here. There were fifty-eight who joined the church here ; thirty-seven students and twenty-one citizens. It was a pleasant day to me, though I had not as pleasant a time as I sometimes have, owing I suppose to my ignorance of the nature of the ordinance, or rather to my too selfish feelings. — When I look back ten weeks, and contrast my present condition with what it was then, I feel a strange sensation of wonder. To think that a change so great, (for I feel it to be a great change, and I hope it is genuine,) should be effected in so comparatively short a time, is strange. One of those who joined at the same
time, a daughter of the Rev. Mr. , was only ten years old.
Her religious experience, however, was very satisfactory to the Session. Whether there will be any more outpouring of the Holy Spirit here, I cannot tell. I hope and endeavor to pray that there may be, but it seems as if we were all like rocks : at least, I feel myself to be so. A hard heart, I think, is one of the most un- pleasant things that a Christian has to deal with on earth. The 150th hymn in the Assembly's Collection, exactly describes the feelings which I frequently have on this subject. I remam your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
CanonsbuTg; August 5th, 1835. My Dear Mother —
You may remember the first letter you wrote to me after the 29th December ; I have not got it by me, but I can remember the substance of it. You warned me in it to beware of falling away from my " first love." At that time I wondered why you should send me such a warning. I thought there was no danger, and that it would be impossible for me ever to leave that Saviour, who had so kindly opened my eyes. Yet even in this short time, has that case been my own. I have fallen away, and acted very much indeed as if I had never experienced a hope of Christ's love to me. I left my first love, and for about two months preceding and after my visit home, I had no enjoyment in religion. I had not fallen so far as to silence the voice of conscience, or as not to know that I had in some measure fallen. Such was my case when at home. True, there were times, even then, when I had as nuich freedosn in prayer as ever ; and the day of the sacrament I had as much pleasure in religion as I have had this session.
I have now the hope that I am restored. I now feel, in some respects, as I did when first the light of truth shone in upon my
8 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
soul, and I have a more heart-affecting view of myself Rejoice with me, my mother, that God has not cast me off from him for- ever, as I justly deserved, and as would have been perfectly con- sistent with his glory, mercy, and justice. How I was restored T can hardly tell. For two weeks past, I have felt very differently from what I did all session, and yesterday and to-day I feel some, though, alas ! very httle, of the joy of him whose sin is pardoned by his God. O for a tongue to speak my Redeemer's praise, and to proclaim to the world what he has done for my soul ! Surely, O surely, such love was never manifested as the love of Christ ! Why is it that we cannot love him more, and love him always? And yet I am very much afraid I shall not long continue in this state. I am afraid I shall fall, and yet bring open disgrace upon my profession. Pray for me, my dear parents, and give your counsels.
Yours affectionately,
W, M. LOWRIE,
Jefferson College, August 10th, 1835. My Dear Father —
I wrote to mother and brother Matthew, a short time ago, yet as I have something in regard to which I would wish to ask your advice, and as, probably, you are now as much at leisure as you will be before next summ,er, I have concluded to write to you. I do not know whether I have ever before mentioned this subject to you, but it is one which has often employed my thoughts, and of late particularly — it is this : Whether it is my duty to be a minister of the gospel ? My principal reason for now writing to you is, to ask your advice in regard to this one point, viz., whether I should enter on the examination of this subject, with the view of coming to a definite conclusion this session, or, at farthest, be- fore the close of the year ; or whether I should put off the imme- diate examination of the point till a future period.
Each of these may have its advantages. The principal reasons why I should now come to a determination are these : 1st. What- ever profession 1 may choose, if I now decide concerning it, I may lay my mind more ardently to being prepared for it and for use- fulness : I may the more readily make all my other pursuits sub- servient to this. This I consider a principal reason. 2nd. A reason, flowing from the first, why I now should determine, is, that if I should decide to be a minister, it may conduce to personal piety and a closer walk with God. These are two of the principal reasons why I should now determine.
On the other hand, it may be objected — 1st. My youth : my judgment is not capable of deciding so important a question. 2nd. My inexperience of my own self and of others, and of the duties required of me in that high station to which I aspire. 3rd. The fickleness of my temper ; and 4th. Circumstances may occur
LETTERS WHILE IN COLLEGE. Sf
which will render it obligatory on me to change my views. I do not consider the last much of an objection, and I can, I think, get over the others ; but I should like your advice on this all-impor- tant subject. I may here mention a couple of plans which have principally occupied my thoughts on this subject. The first was — to study for the ministry, and, after being ficensed, to go and spend my life in the Western States ; neither in the character of a settled pastor, nor yet in that of an itinerant preacher, but some- where between them. The other, and one which has almost en- tirely taken up my mind, is this : after I graduate, to go and study medicine ; then go to the Theological Seminary and prepare myself for the ministry ; and then, if in the Providence of God it may appear my duty, " Go and preach the Gospel to the heathen." Both of these may be mere romantic creations of the fancy, but. at present, my inclination is rather in favor of the latter. I may, in a future letter, state more as to my views on this subject, but, at present, I would like your advice as to the first point mentioned.
I regard myself just in this light: I profess to be, and hope I am, a servant of Christ. The command is, " Go work in my vineyard." After having decided, how I shall work ? — whether as a minister or otherwise — the next question will be, where ?
I do not consider, that in answering this question, I have a right to consult my own convenience. May you, my dear father, be abundantly blessed with the influence of the Holy Spirit, and find all your children walking in your footsteps, and may we all at last meet around the throne of God, on his right hand.
Affectionately yours,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Jeffe7^son College^ August 31st, 1835. Dear Father —
I have delayed answering your last somewhat longer than usual, but I suppose you know the reason. I have been engaged in the examination of the subject of the gospel ministry, and have at length been enabled to decide, at least from present views and feelings, and with prayer, that it is my duty to devote myself to the service of God in that jnanner. I cannot say that I have had many or great difficulties, nor indeed have I that assurance I could wish to have ; but 1 hope, as my experience increases, that ray confidence as to my duty will increase in proportion. I may be deceived, but, as far as I know myself, I am not actuated by un- worthy motives. I wish I could as certainly say, that I am influ- enced by a desire for the glory of God ; for it is on that point that I have, and do yet experience, the greatest difficulty. In other respects, I hope I can with some confidence say, that, as far as I know myself, I am not influenced by wrong motives. May God grant me to know and do my duty.
Your affectionate son, W, M, Lowrie.
10 MEMOIR OF "WALTER M. LOWRIE.
Jefferson College, September 8th, 1835. My Dear Father, —
I am very sorry you cannot make it convenient to remain in Butler a few weeks longer, as I should very much wish your company. It may be all fancy, but something seems to be con- stantly telling me, when I thuik of you all, " that I must endeavor to spend as much time with you as I can now, for after I am set- . tied in life, I shall have very few opportunities of being with you." And this idea has taken almost complete possession of my mind. I do not, when I look forward, anticipate nmch temporal pleasure, or ease ; and perhaps it is as well that I should learn to deny myself now as at any time ; but still I find an unwillingness to separate from my thoughts the idea of totally denying myself your company. However, I hope, that if it ever should be incum- bent on me, I shall never hesitate to leave even father and mother, and all to whom I am bound by the ties of nature. I hope you are all in good health of body — would that I had the same hope in regard to matters of more importance ! But when I think that some of our dear family are still in the "gall of bitterness and the strong chains of iniquity," I cannot hope so. I can do nothing but pray, and in my condition, I am more fit to have prayers offered for myself, than to offer them for others. Next Sabbath is the day of the communion : how I should like, were it possible, to sit down and commemorate our Saviour's love with my dear parents, — but I suppose it may not be.
I remain your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Jefferson College, September 14th. My Dear Father —
Yesterday was our communion here ; and though it was so near to the end of the session, that we could not have much time for preparation, and no fast day was appointed, yet it was about as profitable a day as I ever spent. True, at the table, and whilst partaking of the elements, I was not happy ; nay, before I rose from the table, I was almost as miserable as I ever was. Yet it was profitable. A temptation came across my mind to this effect : "I am not now enjoying communion with Jesus Christ; and therefore I am not a Christian. I may as well now give up all pretensions to religion, and quit acting the hypocrite any longer." And although not willingly, I felt as if I ought to do so ; but the thought rushed into my mind, '• If I am so miserable under the hidings of God's face only, how .shall I bear his eternal wrath ?" It was the first time I had ever been influenced more by fear than by other motives. I was miserable, however. But see the good- ness of God and of Jesus Christ. After chinch, I was think- ing of my conduct during the session, and meditating on the
LETTERS WHILE AT COLLEGE. 11
two verses, " Seek ye first the kingdom of God ;" and all ray anxious cares vanished. I had been impressed deeply with a sense of my sinfulness, and was wishing to make some resolu- tions hereafter to live more to the glory of God, but felt almost afraid to do it. I knew I should fall away ; and I felt that it would but aggravate my guilt, were I to sin against such renewed obligation. But the sentence, " Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," calmed my heart. I felt that it was my duty to follow present duty, and leave the future to God, without any anxious cares ; and I was enabled to do so, and to roll all my cares upon the Lord. Oh, the peace I at that moment possessed ! I could scarce refrain from laughing, I was so joyful.
I determined then to live every day as if it were to be the last I should have to live, and to do my duty accordingly ; — in reality, " to live by the day." At secret prayer I was more full of God's presence, and comprehended more of that view of Christ's charac- ter, which is so great, grand, and incomprehensible, that I could scarcely proceed for joy ; and from my own experience during the day, I could tell something of the difference between God's pres- ence and his absence. To-day, I cannot say T feel, or have felt, as I could wish — not so much life and animation ; but I have been enabled to mourn for it. During the sermon (Mark xvi. 15), I was enabled to see more of the greatness of the Christian religion than I ever did before, and to feel, too, that man could not be the author of such grand ideas as I saw there held out.
This evening I was walking out into the country for exercise, and on my return I passed the cottage of a negro woman, com- monly called " Old Katy." She was out in the road, when I passed her. I shook hands with her, and spoke a few words to her. Be- fore we had spoken three sentences, she was talking about religion. She is a most eminent Christian, and we stood about ten or fifteen minutes there talking. She soon got to speaking about the mis- sionary cause. Her heart was in the matter, and she said, " I am very poor, but as long as I hve 1 will be something to it. I have often given a little to it, and I never laid out any money better. I could not do it. I never lost a cent by it."
I wish I could give you some idea of the emphasis she used, but pen and ink cannot express her manner and the feeling she mani- fested. She very cordially asked me to call in and see her; "for it is food to me when any of God's children come to see me ; it is foodP She went on thus for some time, talking about various matters, but all of them religious. Oh ! how little I felt when I heard her talk thus, and compared my attainments in the Chris- tian course with hers.
18th. I received your kind letter yesterday, for which I am very much obliged to you. I would go to Pittsburg to see you, but thev are not done examining our class, and I do not wish to be absent from here on Sunday. The examination commenced yes- terday, and they got over one half of the class, myself among
12
MEMOIR OF "WALTER M. LOWRIE.
them. The Greek still remains to try our metal, but I cannot say I am afraid of that ; and if such things as these were to be my only difficulties. I should not think life very burdensome. I remain your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Jefferson College, November 22d, 1835. My Dear Mother —
You may recollect in reading the life of Payson, a sentence like this: "Whenever I write to you, more than forty ideas jump at once, all equally eager to get out, and jostle and incommode each other at such a rate, that not the most proper, but the strongest, escapes first." I find something like this at present in my head, for I hardly know where to begin. However, on last Saturday night there were four of us students, who met in our room, to have a little prayer-meeting : we had all, I think, a great deal of free- dom in prayer for a revival, and after our meeting was over, we sung two or three hymns together. It was as pleasant a meeting as I have attended in a long time. One of the hymns was that most expressive one, " Alas ! and did my Saviour bleed," and I am sure there was a good deal of feeling manifested among us.
Yesterday Mr. E., an agent of the American Board of Missions, preached a sermon in the forenoon with which I was highly pleased, on the text "It is more blessed to give than to receive." At night he preached again ; subject, the debt we owe the heathen. He proved in it, that we owe a debt to the heathen that we are able to pay ; that the time had come ; and concluded with a number of most thrilling, interesting facts. The sermon was an hour and a half long ; the longest I have ever heard, but it seemed the short- est. He spoke of the providences of God with regard to Missions, and said, that had Lyman and Munson lived to fill up their three- score years and ten, and toiled and labored, wrote and translated, and been as successful as any of our present missionaries, they would not, in all human probability, have been as useful by one half, as they have been just by their death. They have excited more interest, more prayers, more contributions, and brought for- ward more young men to fill their places, than they could have done, had their life been prolonged. The JBoard have already sev- eral missionaries who are going to take their places, and the inter- est in that mission is ten times as great as it ever was. Is not that gratifying? About the close he related an anecdote, which I hardly dare attempt to repeat, but I will try. " Some years ago I was out on a tour for collecting money for the Society, and I stopped over Sunday at a town, and preached there. I gave no- tice that on the morrow, I would go around and receive their con- tributions. Accordingly, in company with the minister, I did so. We came to a house, or cabin rather, and he said, 'We must go in here ; we shall receive no donation, but there is a ' Mother in Israel'
LETTERS WHILE AT COLLEGE. 13
here.' We went in and found an old woman over seventy, bent nearly double by age, and troubled witb all its infirmities, and her daughter, who was helpless. The old woman supported her daughter and herself by spinning flax. As soon as she saw us, she said, ' I am glad you have come. I was afraid you would not, and last night I lay awake and prayed that God would send you, and now you are here. I got up early this morning and went to a neighbor who has a gentle horse, which he lends me whenever I want it ; and then 1 went to another man who owed me six shillings for spinning flax, which he paid me : now I want to give it to the Missionary Society, here it is,' handing it to me. I told her we did not expect any money from her ; we had not come to her house for that purpose. She insisted. I took the subscription paper, wrote her name, and opposite to it six shillings, and show- ing it to her said. See, here is your name, we will pay this money, and no one shall ever know you did not give it yourself, and you can keep your money. I thought she needed it too much to give it. She looked at me, the big tears rolling down her cheeks, and said, ' What have I done, that you won't let me give this money ; I have prayed for forty years for the heathen, and yesterday you told us the time had come, when we might g-ive as well as pray, and I was glad of it ; now you won't let me give this money — it is very hard.' Great grief was visible in her countenance" — and Mr. E., heartily ashamed of himself, took the money. Was not that most beautiful ? I was near bursting into tears. Shortly after I spoke to one who had been at our prayer-meeting, and he was in extacies. "Oh Lowrie, is not that deligbtful? What a blessed Sabbath ! Our little prayer-meeting '" If I ever desired to be a minister and a missionary, I did last night. Such a glorious ob- ject ! so worthy all the talents, feelings, and affections of every reasonable creature, that it seems impossible, almost, not to desire it. However, though it may be the duty of others to decide this matter while at college, I hardly think it can be mine, at least for a year to come.
We have between seventy and eighty new students, the largest number received in one session since 1831, when the new college was built, and perhaps, excepting that time, the largest number ever received. Altogether we have near two hundred and fifty stu- dents. Were the Spirit of God poured out here, what would be the consequences ! We have a great deal of studying to do. I am trying to " Parlez vous" some, and hope to be able to speak with some fluency before the winter is over. * *
Yours affectionately, W. M. Lowrie.
Canonsburg, December 26th, 1835. My Dear Mother —
In looking over the various relations which others sustain to me, or which I sustain to tlnem, I see very little which does not
14 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
call for sincere, hearty gratitude. ' To have so many friends, my- self to enjoy so many privileges and mercies, of which others stand in so much need, while I am but too insensible to their value, and to have so many opportunities of improving myself and of preparing for future usefulness, — these things, combined with others, which are so many I cannot number them, give me abun- dant cause for gratitude and praise.
Dec. 29. This is my birth-day. It is just one year since first I experienced the hope of salvation, and now I see before me the whole scene, and the fulness of my heart rises within me. I ha^re just been thinking of my conduct the past year. Whilst I see many things to be thankful for, and to encourage me, I also see much to grieve and humble me. The hasty flight of time only brings us nearer an eternal home, where " sorrow and sighing flee away." I am more and more anxious to pay you a visit in the spring, and expect to enjoy a great deal of pleasure from it. If we anticipate so much pleasure from joys that are but finite, what will the joys of heaven be ? An infinity of everything that is good !
Jan. 2d, 1836. Taking a walk this afternoon, I came near a grave-yard, and went into it. Some of the tenants were dead more than eighty years, some under one year. Some of the tomb-, stones bore marks of many years' exposure ; others were as fresh as if yesterday they had been placed there. All was calm and silent. The world flees from such scenes. Many of the tomb- stones spoke of the joys of heaven, of the resurrection, and of Christ, and their rude poetry only made them the more striking. I love •a grave-yard. I love to walk among these signs of death, and muse on death itself. I may be deceived, but to me death has few terrors, and though nature may shrink from the last fatal struggle, yet I think I am not afraid to die. " I know that my Redeemer liveth . . . and though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God."
" The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave, The deep damp vault, the darkness, and the worm — These are the terrors of the living, not the dead."
Jan. 4. I have just seen a letter from my dear brother John. His health has failed, and he is obliged to leave India. How sad that he has to leave his station, and all his prospects of usefulness in that region. Although I long to see him, I could wish he may be able to remain. But God has good reasons for what appears to us to be so dark. May he who holds the winds in his power, and the waves in the hollow of his hand, preserve and bring him safe to his native land. Well do I recollect when I bade him farewell. Never till the last moment, and when I felt that he must go — never till then did I know how much I loved him. Then I knew what the bitterness of parting was. Yet what are friends and kindred, father and mother, brothers and sisters, com
LETTERS WHILE AT COLLEGE. ' 15
pared with Jesus Christ? He that loveth them more than him, is not worthy of him.
Jan. 5. Did yon ever study geometry ? I am working at it now, and I do thinlc it is about as dry a thing as I ever studied. It is not hard, on tlie contrary, it is very easy — but it is so regular. Now I like order, but I Kke variety too, and we have but httle of that in Legendre. A square is a square, be it big or httle, and it has just four angles, and these four angles are all equal — more- over, they are all right angles. I like algebra : there is some va- riety there — something to turn and rest the attention upon at every step. Most of our class are rejoicing that we are through algebra ; but I would rather study it than geometry, Latin, or Greek.
I have been lately reading the life of James B. Taylor. I have not met with anything like it. He makes me feel quite ashamed of myself. Pray for me, that I may be fitted for the holy ministry. I remain yours affectionately,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Jefferson College, January 28th, 1837. My Dear Father —
. . .We are still driving away at the conic sections, which are very solid, and to me very interesting. I do not think them hard, by any means, although some do complain piteously about long les- sons. I do not like Greek so well as the mathematics, and I find it much harder. Nothing but the conviction that it is necessary to have a thorough knowledge of it, to fit me for my future call- ing, could induce me to study it. I do not mean to say, however, that I find it difficult.
I have lately been reading Swan's Letters on Missions. The question of personal devotion to the missionary work is rising before me, and I can scarce help thinking I am called upon to decide this question soon. I have tried to put it off. under various excuses — not, I hope, with any wish to avoid the question, but principally owing to my inexperience ; but I don't know how I can much longer postpone it. I intend reading a great deal on the subject, and hereafter making it the subject of special prayer. I should like to have your views, as soon as you have time. Give my best love to all.
W. M. Lowrie.
Jefferson College, Febmary 7th, 1837. My Dear Father —
We had the communion here about four weeks ago, and since that time three of our students have joined the church. One of my Bible-class has experienced a hope, and several others are somewhat affected. There has been an extensive revival at Cross
16 MEMOIR OF WALTER ?t LOWRIE.
Roads, and Florence Academy. One most profane young man was one of the first and clearest cases of conversion.
The question of personal devotion to the missionary cause, has, as you are aware, long been before my mind. When I first ex- perienced a hope of salvation, this suloject presented itself to my mind. This feeling has continued in almost every time and place. This session I felt it to be important to know what I should do, and what time I could spare was devoted to the examination of the question. I never found any particular difficulties, except as to my piety. At our last communion I was enabled to decide to be, by the grace of God, a missionary. It was like throwing a heavy burden off from my mind, and I have not since experienced one moment of regret at the decision. Sometimes, indeed, it seems hard — O, very hard — to think of parting with near and dear friends ; but what are all these, or life itself, to the advance- ment of the Saviour's cause, to which, two years ago, I conse- crated myself?
Your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Jefferson College, March 10th, 1837. My Dear Father —
Brother John has been here for several days, and intends leaving in the morning. His health has improved very little since leaving New York. He has been engaged preaching so much, that it has materially prevented his recruiting ; he is, however, no worse.
In my last letter I mentioned that as far as I could see, if noth- ing providential occurred, I had made up my mind on the question "Should I become a missionary?" It never seemed to present any great difficulty to my mind, and I don't know that I could give any particular account of the reasons, which led me to believe that it was duty on my part to spend my life among the heathen. The question always seemed, though a very important one, to be — Can I do more abroad than at home ? There were no providential hinderances to prevent me from going. Indeed Providence seemed rather to point to the heathen as the proper place. My own incli- nations and feelings pointed the same way. If I have piety to fit me for being a minister at home, I might hope to have it for being a missionary abroad. Of my talents and quahfications for the work, others must judge. Almost the only difficulty was in regard to my health. My constitution being weak, it seemed almost un- able to bear much fatigue ; for even the labor of study is preying on it in some degree. But though the case seemed so clear, do not think, dear father, that it was on account of my vanity that it appeared so. For almost always when the duty of being a mis- sionary appeared strongest, I felt my own strength or my own fit- ness to be least. And even now, when the troubles and depriva- tions and duties of missionary life come up to view, the question
LETTERS WHILE IN COLLEGE. 17
involuntarily occurs, " Who is sufficient for these things ?" Yet if I know my own heart, I am wilhng to live or die for the hea- then. It is now nearly two montlis since I came to the determi- nation expressed above, and never yet has a single emotion of re- gret crossed my mind on account of it. Nay, a load has been thrown off, and I feel a deejjer interest in everything that concerns the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom. Pray for me, dear fa- ther ; unless 1 have more piety than I now have, I am not fit for the missionary work, nor for the ministry at home.
Your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Pittsburg, September 13th, 1837. My Dear Father —
We finished our examination eight days ago, but I have been so busy, I have not had time to write to you. At the close of our examination. I expected to be told that I might have my Diploma, but further or higher I had not directed my thoughts. Judge of my surprise then, when on the next morning. Dr. Brown gave me the enclosed as my standing.* I had never thought of standing more than respectably, but this grade is equivalent to what was once called the first honor. There were two others in the class who were marked equally high. I have been appointed Valedicta- rian, which is considered here the most important post at the Com- mencement. I hope, however, you will not consider me to be a very excellent scholar, on account of the high standing I have with the Faculty. In languages especially, I do not consider my- self to be much above mediocrity.
As soon as Commencement is over, I shall set out for home. Though I should like very much to enter on the study of theology inunediately, yet I do feel almost afraid to commence without a longer recess than common. During my collegiate course, I have not, on an average, studied three hours a day ; but at the Semi- nary, I would wish — indeed, it seems essential — that at least four hours daily be spent in study. Still, with an opportunity of daily systematic exercise, I siioul 1 not l^el much hesitation about the Seminary studies. Others with far worse health than mine, have gone through as severe a course ; and as I may probably never have very strong health, it may not be worth while to delay on that account, especially if my youth be not considered too strong an objection.
I remain your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
* Walter M. Lowrie,
Grade. Grade.
Languages, \. Natural Science, 1.
Moral Science, 1. Mathematics, 1.
M. Brown.
CHAPTER II.
October 1837 — January 1842.
returns home from college course in the theological seminary at
princeton accepted as a foreign missionary sails for china.
On leaving College, the subiect of this memoir returned home, his father's family then residing in the city of New York. His expectation was to enter the Theological Seminary at Princeton soon after his return.. The Seminary year, however, commenced in September, when the regular classes were formed ; and his father, still somewhat solicitous respecting his health, deemed it best that he should have a recess from study ; and he spent the winter at home. Having few acquaintances in the city, his win- ter's residence at home was a season of retirement and quiet, and his time was profitably employed in reviewing his previous studies, and in miscellaneous reading. He had also a good opportunity of improvement in vocal music, under the able instructions of Mr. Thomas Hastings. During the winter he took charge of a class of young men in the Sabbath school, who became greatly attached to him, and were much benefitted by the care he bestowed on their instruction.
In May, 1838, he entered the Seminary, and afterwards joined the regular class formed in September following. In his whole course in the Seminary he pursued his studies very closely. He was never absent from a single recitation ; and with his studies, and other necessary duties, his time was fully employed. By per- severing industry, he was able to superintend a Sabbath school at Q,ueenston, a few miles from the Seminary, and also to make a Catalogue of the books in the Library, and arrange them anew.
Before leaving College, as is seen by his letters, he had fully de- cided to go as a missionary to the heathen, and during his last year in the Seminary, his mind was settled on Western Africa as his chosen field of labor. In December, 1840, he was received as a missionary of the Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian
OCTOBER 1837 — JANUARY 1842. 19
Church. No objections to his preference for Africa were made by his friends, and for several months the question of his field of labor was considered as fully settled. In the spring and summer of 1841, however, the exigencies of the China mission induced the Executive Committee to review the question of his field of labor. The mission to China was then but commencing, and was en- compassed with many difficulties. That great empire was at that time closed against the Christian missionary ; and Singapore had been selected as the most suitable place where the language of China could be learned, translations made into it, schools estab- lished, and other missionary work carried on. The Rev. John A. Mitchell, and the Rev. Robert W. Orr and his wife, had arrived at Singapore in April, 1838. In the following October, Mr. Mit- chell was removed by death. The next year Mr. Orr's health failed ; a visit to the Nilgerry Hills, in India, did not restore it ; and in 1840, he set out on his return home. The same year, the Rev. Thomas L. McBryde and his wife reached Singapore ; and in 1841, he was joined by J. C. Hepburn, M. D., and his wife. In one year, Mr. McBryde's health had dechned so much, tliat it was evident he also must soon withdraw from that sphere of labor, and thus leave Dr. Hepburn alone in the China mission. In these circumstances, and having at that time no other suitable man to send, the question in the view of the Executive Commit- tee was clear, that China, and not Western Africa, was the proper field of labor for the new missionary. It was believed, also, that from the tone of his piety, his cheerful temper, his thorough edu- cation, his natural talents and untiring industry, he was pecul- iarly fitted for the China mission. It was, however, with many misgivings, and much reluctance at first, that he contemplated this change in his field of labor ; but as there was a perfect una- nimity of sentiment in the Executive Committee, the professors in the Seminary at Princeton, and other ministerial brethren, all of whom he greatly respected, he yielded cheerfully to their judg- ment— -viewing these things as a call from God to labor in that great and destitute part of the Saviour's vineyard.
On the 5th of April, he was licensed to preach the Gospel by the Second Presbytery of New York. After leaving the Seminary in May, he spent a few weeks at home, preaching on the Sabbath in different churches. In July and August he was sent by the Executive Committee to the most distant land office in Michigan, to secure the pre-emption right to the mission station among the
20 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
Chippewa Indians, as the government had advertised the Indian reservation for public sale. The sale, however, was postponed be- fore he reached the land office, and on his return he spent some time among the churches in Western New York. Late in the fall he visited his friends in Western Pennsylvania for the last time, and by these various journeys his health was much improved.
He was ordained on the 9th of November, 1841, and on the evening of the last Sabbath of the same month, a deeply interest- ing farewell missionary meeting was held in the Brick church, New York. Addresses were made by the Rev. Gardiner Spring, D. D., pastor of the church, by the missionary, and by his father. These addresses would possess much interest now, but no copy of them was preserved. It was expected that the vessel would sail early in December, but she was delayed till in January, and in the interval his time was chiefly spent at home.
New York, November 21st, 1837. Mr. John Lloyd —
Dear Brother: — Though this method of communication is but a poor substitute for that "sweet counsel" we have so often en- joyed, yet as it is the best that now remains for us, I gladly embrace the first good opportunity that has yet occurred, to renew our friend- ship. For it does seem as though it had to be renewed, when I think that, though you and myself have often "held sweet- est converse about what God had done for our souls," and that though our eyes have brightened and our hearts warmed, as we " talked by the way," yet now we are separated by a distance of more than four hundred mile.s, and are without the prospect of see- ing each other for months, and perhaps years. Yet though sepa- rated in body, I trust we are often present in spirit, and especially that, at the throne of " our Father," we can still enjoy communion, and be the means of profit to each other, perhaps ever, greater than that which our mutual conversations could have afforded. It is surely consoling to know that there is One who watches over us, and over our dearest friends, far better than we could possibly do, and that at all times He will do all things well. Yet, were it con- sistent with duty, I should like again to spend a few hours with you, and again partake in those social joys that kindred spirits like yours and mine so nuich deUght in. My situation here, though fully as pleasant as I expected it to be, is very different from what it was in Canonsburg. I have as yet very few acquaintances here, and do not expect to have many. Those that I have, I know not what they are, for the rules of fashion are so trammelling, that one cannot at once make those friendly advances which are com- mon among you. Consequently when I would enjoy the holier
LETTERS. 21
joys of friendship, I must draw off my attention from things around me, and return to past days and scenes, in many of which you and one or two others held a conspicuous part. Do you miud that day after our missionary meeting of the Society of Inquiry, last March, when you and I took that long walk " over the hills and far away," and in our conversation seemed to have some fore- tastes of " glory begun below ?" Many and many a time has it risen to my mind, and if it has not drawn tears from my eyes, it has done what is better — encouraged me to go forward, and caused me to gird up the loins of my mind anew for the heavenly race, and made me sometimes to remember a friend, a fellow-expectaut of what " eve hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive." Yet from what I have said, do not suppose that I am at all unhappy or discontented, or even disappointed. So far. at least, "I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content ;" whether it will always be so or not, time will show. The contrast between my present way of living and that at Canonsburg, is very striking. I see very little company ; attend very few evening meetings ; don't make three or four speeches every week, (you know I was famous for that ;) on the contrar)^, hardly open my mouth from one week's end to the other ; read a good deal ; study as much as I did at College ; and am on the whole iDecoming quite a domestic animal. I am very glad to find that comparative solitude agrees so well with me ; for I was really afraid that after being so used to meetings of one kind or another every night, it would be difficult to get along without them. In fact, it does require some effort to keep alive the spirit of piety, when one has nothing like the Society of Inquiry or the Brainerd Society to excite to action ; nothing but the stated ordinances of God's house to nourish the soul. Yet on that very account I prize my present situation the more, because I am thereby enabled, or perhaps I shoulu say required, to live more by faith and less by sight, or frames and feelings. And to a missionary nothing can be more important, than to be able to live without anything to keep the soul in constant excitement ; for, as it has been well re- marked, " when he gets to his field of labor, he can attend no crowded meetings to hear some eloquent orator descant upon the magnanimity of the missionary enterprise." All the " romance of missions" must then belaid aside, and in its reality, he may almost be tempted to forget for whom and for what he is laboring, and be- coming discouraged, lay down his weapons, and retire vanquished from the field to which his Master called him.
It seems to me, on looking back on the last two or three years of my collegiate course, that we all lived too much by excitement, not enough by simple faith. Our religious societies were precious and profitable, and I should be sorry to give them up, but perhaps we depended too much on them, without remembering that "Paul may plant and xlpollos water, but God alone can give the increase ;" and this dependence on these means, (at least in my own case,)
22 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
was productive of a spirit of action more resembling the "crackling of tliorns," than the steady, intense flame that consumed the Jew- ish sacrifices. Oh, my brother ! guard against this spirit of trust- ing to anything in preference to the revealed will of God, and his ordinances, for animation in the divine life.
What is the state of missionary feeling now among you ? Do you yet hear the voice, " Come over and help us," and the wailing cry, " And what then ?" as it rises from the death-bed of the Hin- doo, and, borne across the waste of waters, reaches our ears both from the east and the west, swelled as it is, and heightened and prolonged by the addition of innumerable others ? Oh, does the " cry of the nations," echoed and re-echoed from the distant moun- tains, still sound among you ? Or does it die away among the crumbling ruins of heathen temples, unheard and unheeded, save by the infidel and the deist? Oh, who is there to come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty ? There is nothing in all my course for which I reproach myself so much, as that I did so little to excite a missionary spirit at College. I do not mean among those who were already determined as to the path of duty, but among those who had not decided the question ; for very rarely did I press upon any of them as I should, the importance of the work, the necessity, absolute, increasing, and alas ! almost irreme- diable necessity now existing for laborers, and their own duty in this great matter. Dear brother, can you not do something? You have the confidence of most of the pious students, and could you but muster courage enough to determine to do something in this matter, imborn millions would bless you for it. Let me transcribe for you a few lines from an appeal of some missionaries in India ; you have perhaps seen them before, but they will bear reading and praying over again :
" The soil is ready for the seed, and the seed ready to be sown, but where are the husbandmen ? In some places it has been scat- tered abroad and the fields are white for the harvest, but where are the reapers ? Congregations large and attentive might be procured every day, hut ive have no men. Schools might be established on Christian principles, but w& have no men. Humanly speaking, souls might be saved, but ^how can they hear without a preacher?^ You can increase the number of these queries to an almost indefinite extent, but the answer will almost always be, we have no men ! We have gone to the colleges and seminaries of learning, but we found few to answer our demands. We went to the haunts of so- ciety, but one was busied about his farm, and another about his merchandise, and another with the sweets of domestic society. We went to the schools of the prophets, and asked if on any of them rested the spirit of Elijah? but there were few to answer the call. Despairing, we looked to the heathen, and as we saw them go down by crowds to the darkness of the second death, we felt as if yet another effort should be made. Oh, who will go for us?"
Wishing you all temporal and all spiritual blessings, and sym-
LETTERS. 23
pathizin^ most sincerely with you in your late afflicting bereave- ment, (of which I have only just heard,)
I remain your brother,
W. M. LOWRIE.
New York, November 29th, 1837. Mr. Roger Owen —
Dear Brother, — I had intended to have a long conversation with you, about the management of our Sabbath school next summer ; and though it may seem like officiousness in me to volunteer my advice, yet my brother, with whom I have been so long associated in that beloved place, will not take it hard, if I stir up his mind by way of remembrance. In the first place, it will be best for you to use your own judgment ; and at all times, while you do not appear to assume any power, you must let the scholars know that you are the superintendent. Govern them, however, by love. Try to enter into all their feelings, and make your in- structions of such a character, that every one can understand you. If the children can understand you, there is no danger but that the older scholars will ; but the reverse is not so certain. Let your speeches, however, be always short. I erred sometimes in this, though not often conscious of it. Go about the room often ; walk up and down the aisles, and look at the classes as you pass : this will have a great effect, though I neglected it almost entirely. I am sure I did wrons^ in not doinof it more than I did. Go to the several classes, and talk to each class at least once in the session. Here again I failed. The teachers always seemed to have enough to do, and I did not like to interrupt them. But I think it would be better to go sometimes, even if you do interrupt the regular lesson, and say a few words, even if you do not talk more than half a minute. But if you do go, don't talk more than three or four minutes. One of my class said, towards the close of the ses- sion, " Mr. Lowrie seems to have forgotten us entirely, for he never comes near us any more." Keep up the missionary talks by all means. Be sure, while you are speaking, always to seem, and I hope you will feel, as if there were none but children pres- ent, and no person else in the world knew what you were doing. And probably, when you are talking, and trying to lead their young minds heavenward, you will find it best not to say a great deal directly to induce tiiem to be Christians. For example, don't say, " You ought to be Christians now, because you may die soon — because you will be the happier for it," &c. ; but preach "Christ and him crucified" to them. This way of telling children that it is their duty to be pious, and how great a benefit it will be to themselves, has generally but httle permanent eft'ect ; at least, it never had much on me, and I never found it to have much on others. These are some of the principal things that occurred to me, as being worth while to write to you about. I do not know
24
MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
that it was necessary that I should have written about them at all ; but if it was not, you know the motives which penned them.
There is one thing which you cannot keep too distinctly before you — earnest, importunate prayer. You would probably find it an advantage to have a list of all your teachers, on a small slip of paper. Place this in your Bible, and make it a point to re- member at least one of them every day in your prayers. You should also have a list of all the scholars, and, if possible, know them all by their first names. Maintain, also, the utmost possible affection among your teachers, and between them and yourself; be a brother to them in heart, and your conduct will be all that is necessary. If you can, even at the expense of a good deal of in- convenience, make a circuit of the congregation on behalf of the Sabbath school, about the time you commence, you will find it of immense benefit.
Such are some of the points on which 1 would like to have talked with you particularly, and one of my objects in writing them to you, is to show you, that the interest I feel in Miller's Run Sabbath school, its teachers, and its present superintendent, is still unimpaired ; and long may it continue so ! It is my ear- nest prayer, that you may all increase in love, and be far more useful and active than ever I was, and that the blessing of " Oin* Father" may rest upon you. Farewell, my brother. There is a place where, though separated in body, we can still meet, and hold communication with each other.
W. M. LOWRIE.
Neto York, January 1st, 1838. Mr. John Lloyd —
A happy new year to you, friend John ! and may you see many more such, if the Lord will ! What are you doing now, whilst I am writing to you ? Cousin John tells me you have holidays (old times are in that word,) at present ; so I will just let my imagin- ation try if she can find where you are, or what you are doing. But as you are pretty much of a home-loving creature, I suppose I need not go far to find you. Probably you are going about, pay- ing some fifteen minute visits, for you were never famous for long ones ; or very probably you are standing by the side of the old mill-dam, and watching the fellows skating. I hardly think you would adventure yourself on the ice, for you are most too grave for that. But no — I forget ; this is the first Monday of the month, and of the year, and therefore you are probably stuck up in a corner of your room, reading all the missionary pamphlets you can lay hands on. By the way, have you read the life of Swartz ? If you have not, let me " lay my commands" on you to read it immediately. You know how much our experience resembles each other's — now rejoicing, and now, again, discour- aged and without heart. Swartz was always on the proper pitch ;
LETTERS. 25
constantly in the exercise of strong", unwavering, childlike confi- dence in God, and therefore he was always ready to employ him- self in his Master's business. He was always busy, always cheerful, and always useful. Dear brother, may we strive to be like him, and may we have the same success in our labors that he had in his ! I can ask for few blessings greater, either for you or for myself, than is contained in that wish. I read Bedell's memoirs some time ago, and have just now finished those of Hannah More. They are botli of them most excellent. The former I was delighted with. The memoirs of the latter are also very interesting, indeed. They ai'e compiled from her letters almost entirely, including a great many from various celebrated characters who were cotemporary with herself; and are, I think, excellent models of epistolary correspondence. The style of almost all is very good, and, what is far more important, through most of them there is a strong vein of deep-toned sensibility and piety. I really began to entertain a considerable degree of rever- ence for her before I got quite through the memoir. She was an extraordinary woman, possessed of more than common talents, and able to do almost what slie pleased ; yet, so far from indulging herself in this liberty, her whole life was spent in a most quiet manner, without any flashes, or romantic adventures or pursuits, or anything inconsistent with the character of a plain, common-sense woman.
Mitchell and Orr, missionaries to China, sailed nearly a month ago. How soon will you be ready ? Do you still think of China in preference to India?
It seems strange that this is the beginning of another year. How the time rolls round ! Yet to me the thought that time is rapidly passing away is pleasant. It is solemn, and yet most delightful, to think that my "salvation is nearer than when I be- lieved ;" that, if I am a Christian, I am three years nearer to my heavenly home than when first the hght of truth beamed on my darkened and distressed mind. True, of many misimprovements and much waste of precious time, I have to accuse myself ; yet still the Lord is full of compassion, and the blood of Christ cleans- eth from all sin ; and through him I can look death in the face, and exclaim, when Satan, and doubts, and fears assail me, " I know that my Redeemer liveth." By the way, I heard a sermon on that text yesterday, from an Episcopal minister. He said that the word translated Redeemer in this passage, was the same as that used in Ruth iii. 9, " A near kinsman," or, as the margin has it. " One that has a right to redeem." The mention that such was the meaning of the word, led me into a train of very pleasing and profitable thought. If we had been taken captive by enejuies, and knew that our father, or mother, or brother, were aware of it, we should be sure that they would use every exertion to ransom us. But there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother : this friend is our Redeemer, and this Redeemer is the omnipotent God. Can there, then, be any doubt of our final salvation ?
26 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
The last two or three months have been very pleasant ones. I seem to have had more nearness of access to God, greater confi- dence in the Saviour, and more of the influences of the Spirit, than I have usually had. Among other reasons for these great blessings, I have no doubt but the prayers of my many friends in Canonsburg and its vicinity have had much effect. I still need your prayers very much, for I am prone every moment to fall.
And now, brother, my paper tells me I must close ; and com- mending you to the grace of God, which is able to keep you through faith unto salvation, I remain.
Your affectionate brother in Christ,
W. M. LOWRIE.
New York, January 27th, 1838. Mr. Roger Owen —
Dear Brother: — It would be in vain to attempt to tell you how much pleasure your letter gave me. Although all the letters I have received tliis winter awakened delightful associations, and opened up fountains of fond reminiscences, yet none did so more than yours. I could almost think we were again sitting on the logs, or under the old shady trees at Miller's Run, and holding sweet converse as in days past. It seemed as if we were again walking out together to " Pleasant Valley," " Rural Retreat," or " Linden Hill," or some other such place, and from behind every tree some old friend would step out to welcome me, and every fence- corner and hollow tree told a tale of other times. It may be fancy, but I always think I can see the face of a friend, and hear his voice, and recall all his peculiar modes of speaking and pronunci- ation, when I see his handwriting.
I was indeed sorry to hear that none of our dear Sabbath School scholars had joined the church, and more than once while think- ing of it, tears would have been a relief; yet I could not say that it was surprising. It was but just, for so many imperfections and so much unfaithfulness marked my conduct and prayers and labors there during the last summer, that I could hardly expect any- thing else. Dear brother, profit by my experience, and avoid the keen self-reproaches which I often feel on account of my negli- gence. How much more prayerful I might have been ! How much more earnest and faithful in my labors and appeals to the consciences of those who met in our school. You cannot pray too much for the school; you cannot labor too much for their cotiver- sion. Slack not, then, your diligence ; oh, be faithful ! Labor, if need be night and day with tears, if by any means you may save some ; and assuredly you will not repent of your exertions on a dying bed, or at the judgment day. I speak this to stir you up, know- ing from my own feelings how unpleasant is the recollection of unfaithfulness. You all, 1 believe, thought me active, and in some degree faithful ; but none of you knew as I did and do now,
LETTERS. 27
how much more I might have done had I imitated our blessed Saviour, " who pleased not himself." Yet though I was unfaith- ful, there were others who were not so, and tlierefore I do not despair, but hope and believe that the labors of last summer will not all be lost.
I have not much to add to what was said in my last, about your duties, though there are tv/o things which you have probably thought of before now.
1st. When any children or young persons come into the church in the morning, to go and ask them to join some class, unless you know they will not ; this should always be done. Last summer, I observed three or four little girls and boys who came in one morning, and sat in one of the vacant seats. The first morning I went and asked them to join some class, but could not persuade them to do so. The next day several came, and as they appeared to be the same, I did not ask them to join a class. So it was the next day. and on the fourth Sabbath, finding they were still there, I determined to ask them again, though hardly expecting they would. To my great surprise they consented at once. I felt a pang in my conscience for leaving them thus for two or three Sabbaths without pressing the matter, and even yet, the recollec- tion of it is very painful.
2d. It is hardly worth while to tell you the second, though it would have been well for me if I had known it: don't do everything yourself, and yet be the soul of all that is done. That is, there are many things the teachers can do, and if you would just direct them or ask them to do it, while you employ yourself about other matters, it would make them feel more re- sponsibility, and extend your influence, and give you time for other things. For instance, the teachers ought to feel that it is their duty to increase the number of scholars, not only in their own classes but in others, and not leave this entirely to the superinten- dent.
When one of your teachers is absent, and procures another to supply his or her place, be sure that you yourself take the person who is to supply, and introduce him to the class. This is your business, and not the business of the teacher who may accompany him to the house.
I was at Princeton last week, "spying out the land," and brought back a favorable report. If life and health be spared, I shall prob- ably go there next summer. Your brother was well, and all of our Jeffersonians, of whom there were a dozen.
May I recommend you a plan of studying the Bible which I have found exceedingly profitable? i. e., to study three or four verses every morning carefully, with all Scott's marginal references. Take up faith, repentance, the love of Christ, humility, &.C., or some particular subject.
1 am your affectionate brother,
W. M. LOWRIE.
28 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, July 4th, 1838. My Dear Mother — ■
... I get up every morning' at half past four, often sooner, but rarely later, and take a walk of one or two miles. It is most invig- orating to the whole system, while the fresh air, singing birds, pleas- ant fragrance of the fields, and the thousand and one nameless pleasures of a morning walk, concur to make it a most delightful custom. When I get back it is near breakfast time. The appro- priate duties of the morning over, I commence study at seven, and continue till half past ten, or perhaps eleven, at Latin, Greek and Hebrew, singing a little at intervals by way of relaxation. Din- ner is ready at half past twelve, and miscellaneous employments occupy me till two ; then some regular reading connected with the course here, till half past four. Prayers and supper at five, and company, talking, walking, singing, meetings, bathing, reading, writing, thinking, and not thinking, <fcc., till nine. Generally I manage to be asleep soon after ten. My next door neighbor has an alarm clock, which usually awakens me in the morning, and if it did not the old hell would at five. Though not pursuing the regular studies of my class, I find abundance to do, and my time generally passes in the way above described.
There is here, as may be supposed, every variety of character. The variety is fully as great, if not greater, than it was at College, excluding of course those who were not professors of religion. There is a good deal of reserve among the students towards new comers, though perhaps not greater than one would expect. As yet I have not made many intimate acquaintances, and do not wish to, for a short time. There are, however, some lovely spir- its among these brethren.
Yours affectionately,
W. M. Lowrie.
Princeton, July 21st., 1838. Mr. Roger Owen —
Dear Brother, — Another week has passed — your session is more than half, and ours more than one third over ; and yet to me, as probably to you, it seems but a few days since it com- menced. It seems almost strange sometimes, that we can be indolent or weary in well-doing, when we think how short our time is. Were it not that we have almost daily experience to the contrary, we should think there was no danger of our becoming cold in the service of our Master. But " ere one fleeting hour is past," we often feel our hearts grow cold. But though we are fickle and changing as the morning cloud, or the smoke of the chimney, or the chaflffrom the threshing-floor, yet God remaineth ever the same, unchangeably glorious and good to all his crea- tures. The thought, that we shall one day be admitted to dwell
LETTERS. 29
with him, to be ever with the Lord, is glorious indeed, and may- well induce us to bear trials, and temptations, and sorrows, and labors, for his sake. This was much impressed upon my mind the other day, when thinking" on the verse, " Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." How emphatic ! every word almost has its meaning. " Little flock" — an expression of tenderness. What must have been our Saviour's feelings, as he looked on his disciples and uttered these words ! (Luke xii. 32.) An innumerable multitude were around him — Pharisees and Sadducees, his enemies, and those who said they belonged to no party- But his all-seeing eye, and all-know- ing mind, as it glanced over that vast multitude, saw but a few of his own real followers. The vast majority were his enemies. His own were few, like sheep in the world's wide desert, surround- ed w^ith those who would rejoice to drink their blood, and extir- pate them from the earth. But the voice of Jesus falls like soft music on their ears, " Fear not, little flock," though the world oppose you, though men rise up against you, though this is not your rest — yet still " it is your Fatlier's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." " Our Father"— the most endearing, trust-inspir- ing name that could be given him. " Good pleasure" — not plea- sure merely, but his good pleasure, his delight. " To give" — for we do not deserve, and cannot purchase it, unworthy, weak, and sinful as we are. " The kingdom" — not a kingdom, but the kingdom, — the only one worth having, the only one whose pos- session does not give its owner more sorrow than joy, more thorns than roses. A kingdom includes all our ideas of worldly happi- ness— wealth, honor, fame, ease, pleasure, and the power of doing good — all this ; yet every earthly kingdom is but a faint shadow of better things to come, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man' to conceive. Pardon me, my brother, if I have unreasonably trespassed on your pa- tience by the above, but the train of thought pleased me, and perhaps it may cheer you, sometimes, in difficulty or distress.
The other morning, wlien taking a walk before breakfast, I found a little bird, just fledged, on the road ; it could fly only a few steps. The innocent little thing let me catch it, and hold it, without appearing at all alarmed ; but the parent birds were iu great distress. I set it down, and it ran off into some long grass. The old birds immediately flew down, and began to limp along before me in several curious figures ; and after going ten or twelve yards, one of them very slyly turned back, while the other led me on some forty or fifty yards further, and then, taking wing, thought, though she did not say, " Good morning to you, sir ;" and flew back to the place where we commenced our acquaintance, and I saw her no more. You may draw your own moral from this ; it pleased me very much.
I have just received a letter from Mrs. G , which revived
many old recollections. The continued prosperity of your school
30 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
rejoices my heart, though I am sometimes tempted almost to envy you the privilege you have in attending there. May the Lord be with and bless you abundantly. I was surprised and delighted, as well as humbled, to hear of the effect produced by the letter I sent some time ago. If it produces any good effects, it cannot be owing to any goodness of the author, but only to the grace of God. You still keep up the missionary talks. What subject do you at- tend to this summer ? and how much interest appears to be felt in this great, great subject ? It seems, to me at least, more and more important, that a missionary spirit be excited in the minds of children — of young children. While we must not, by any means, neglect the Catechism and the Bible, or rather the Bible and the Catechism, yet now is the best time to make them feel on the subject of saving a world. If they be instructed in the principles of missions now, they will need no argument to con- vince them of the importance and duty of sending the gospel to the heathen.
There are some lovely spirits here. The standard of piety is by no means as high as it should be ; but still there are some who seem to walk with God. The missionary brethren, of whom there are some fourteen or fifteen, include some of the best men in the Seminary. It has been very profitable to me to be here, but still I find it requires watching and prayer ; and often, O very often, does this cold heart become weary in well-doing. Often does it become very formal, and search for truth more with a critical than a practical view. This is one of the great dangers here. Dear brother, pray for me. Be courageous, and strong in the service of God. Did you ever observe the blessed promises and encour- agements of the first chapter of Joshua ? They apply to us, as well as to Joshua of old.
May the Lord of love and peace be with, and bless you abun- dantly.
Your affectionate brother in Christ,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, September 8th, 1838. Dear Mother —
.... With one exception this country is very pleasant, but that exception is a great drawback ; we have none of the grand hills and valleys that are found about the Alleghany river, and conse- quently but httle variety of scenery. The sunset scenes here sur- pass in beauty all that I have ever seen, for such a country is just the kind for them ; wide plains " bathed in light," and gradually becoming less and less visible as the sun sinks in the west, con- spire to shed a peaceful impression over the mind. But for that very reason our morning prospects are dull. The animating scene of the sun gilding first the tops of the hills, then penetrating to the deep valleys, is not witnessed here
LETTERS. 31
I have never, it seems to me, felt such a true affection for all my relations and friends, as during this summer, and never such a willingness to leave them all, and go wherever duty might call, even, if necessary, to the " grave of the white man," Western Af- rica— where few are laboring, and none seem ready to go and help them. Dr. Miller made some excellent remarks at our last Monthly Concert, on the necessity of more entire dependence on the Spirit of God in the work of missions. Some statements had been made in regard to the great want of laborers in some fields, and he took occasion thence to observe that we are too apt to rely on mere human strength, and if a person has filled any particular station well for a lejigth of time, we imagine it would be left en- tirely unsupplied on his removal, as though man and not God was the cause of any success or prosperity. It was a consoling truth, and especially so for those who, as watchmen, know best the wants of the world, and the difiiculty of supplying them. . . .
Our session closes in a short time, and if spared, I hope to be home this day three weeks. I had intended going on foot to Easton, and through the northern parts of New Jersey, but have now decided to wait till near the close of vacation. Besides, I have some thought of studying Hebrew with Dr. Nordheimer, in New York, during the vacation. He is undoubtedly the best He- brew scholar in the United States, though yet a very young man. He told me I might acquire a good knowledge of it in that time, and if so, the course here would not only be less laborious, but in some things far more profitable.
My health is better now, and appears more firm than it has ever been ; and though I have studied harder than ever before, yet the pain in my breast has almost entirely left me, and I have not had an hour's sickness of any kind since leaving New York. Truly " my cup runneth over." Yet probably a week of sickness would prostrate me far more than many others, but " sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof" Thus far I have had strength given me for the performance of duty, and here I raise my Ebenezer :
" Hither by thy grace I'm come, And I hope by thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home."
There is a beautiful hymn and tune in the Manhattan collec- tion, page 200. We have a good deal of singing and music here, but not much good music. The style of singing does not please one very well, who has imbibed Mr. Hastings' love of distinct ar- ticulation and expression.
With much affection,
*W. M. LOWRIE.
32 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
Neio York, October 6th, 1838. Mr. John M. Lowrie —
Dear Cousin : — The news of our dear Sarah's death was en- tirely unexpected. 1 had heard she was unwell, and apparently dechning-, but had no expectation at all that she would so soon be called hence.
I can sympathize with you, dear cousin, for your case is much hke my own. In my first session at College I lost my mother, and in my third my sister; a sister too. whose sweet and engaging dis- position had made her to be loved by all who knew her. It is my prayer and my hope that this affliction may be sanctified to us all, and that, while our ties to earth are being severed one by one, we may be the closer drawn to our God, and may place our affections more and more in heaven, where there is no more sickness nor sorrow, nor pain nor death. My return to New York this fall was rendered solemn by several circumstances. About a month ago, one of our Sunday School teachers, an amiable and pious young lady, died ; and last Monday, a sister of another. These circum- stances seem to have cast a gloom over the circle of our friends here, which is increased by the dangerous illness of two or three others. Truly we hve in a world of death, and it seems strange that we should ever seek for happiness in such a world.
" None but Jesus Can do helpless sinners good."
Messrs. Scott, Freeman, and Warren, with their wives, expect to sail from Philadelphia for India next Monday. Father is at Philadelphia now, and will not return until they go. I became very much attached to Brother Scott this summer. He was for- merly my Bible class teacher at College, and it was very pleasant to renew our mutual acquaintance again. His wife is spoken of as a most superior woman ; I have been much disappointed in not seeing her. Mr. and Mrs. Warren spent a day or two with us, in the fore-part of this week.
Your affectionate cousin.
W. M. Lowrie.
Princeton, February 22d, 1839. Mr. John Lloyd —
Df:ar Brother: — I have not laughed as heartily this session, as I did when reading that "called in the vernacular tongue" let- ter you sent me some time ago. My good landlady, by whom I was sitting, said there must be something very funny in it, for she never knew me to laugh so before. I have just been reading it over, and feel my spirits quite elevated.
This has been a great day here among the College students. They had some twenty or twenty-five speeches, (Senior,) all deliv- ered in our Seminary Chapel, as their own is not large enough.
LETTERS. 33
They have one very amusing custom here on such occasions : some of the wittier chaps get together and form a hst containing the names of all who speak, to each of which they add a subject, and tlie name of some tune. In all these subjects, tunes, (fcc,
there is some allusion to some peculiarity in the speakers
1 attended but for a few minutes, being busy with my Hebrew and a Report for Society of Inquny. We find it difficult even here to keep up the interest in our Society of Inquiry, though the organization is very perfect. The Connnittee meetings here are almost as profitable as those of the Society of Inquiry, as we usually discuss some question, or have an essay on some subject connected with the object of the Committee.
On the subject of personal religious feeling, I suppose I can sympathize with you as formerly. It is distressing to feel that we ought to be more engaged in the service of God, and yet feel a deadness, a numbness of all the moral feelings, when we contem- plate divine things. In such a condition, the word of God, while we see that it has force, makes no impression on us ; prayer seems more like a task than a pleasure ; meditation is a tedious, taste- less thing. And yet we cannot feel happy in the world ; that does not satisfy us ; that cannot fill the aching void. But it is profitable to be left thus, at times ; for then we feel more and more our own weakness, and perhaps it would not do for persons constituted as you and I are, to enjoy too much of mere comfort : we would place our hearts too much on the pleasure, and be in danger of forgetting Him from whom it came. On this subject there is great danger, too, of our making mistakes, and, because we do not enjoy religion as much as formerly, of thinking we are not as engaged as we were then. The truth, I suppose, is, that we are not to measure our standard of piety by our enjoyment, so much as by the steadiness of our purpose of self-consecration to God. The more willing we feel to renounce all for him, to sub- mit to him, to be anything or nothnig as he chooses — indeed, to have our wdl entirely swallowed up in his, just so far, and no far- ther, do we grow in grace. Like John the Baptist we shall say of our Saviour, "He must increase, but I must decrease." And there is a pleasure in lying d >wn at the feet of Jesus, and yielding ourselves to him, which may not be accompanied with tumultuous joy, but it brings a calm and holy peace which the world never knew. At such times we look on death and the grave without fear, nay, almost with desire ; for, though we are willing to labor our three score years and ten, yet we feel that " to be with Christ is far better." Dear brother, when you feel your heart so cold, does it not rejoice you to think that in heaven it will not be so? — that there you shall know and love as much as you wish, and that these vexing cares and trying experiences will be no more 1
" There is an hour of peaceful rest To mourning wanderers given ;
3
34 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
There is a joy for souls distressed —
A balm for every wounded breast :
'Tis found above — in heaven."
Wherefore, my brother, comfort your heart with these words. The Psahnist, in his affliction, remembered God "from the land of the Hermonites, and the hill Mizar." There is a land and a hill to which you can refer with feeling-s of joy — I need not say where nor when. I commenced the preceding page with my own heart in the dust ; but these thoughts have gladdened it and re- freshed me.
I think you will be highly delighted with the Seminary course, especially the study of Hebrew ; nothing ever delighted me so much, in the way of study, as that venerable language; and the facihties of studying it are now so great that any one may ac- quire it. Get Nordheimer's Grammar by all means, and don't think of any other ; it is a real treat to read that Grammar.
I must close, but only for want of time to write more. The Jefferson students here are all well, and, if they knew I was writ- ing, would doubtless ask to be remembered to you.
Farewell. — Pray for me.
In Christian love, yours,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, April 19th, 1839. Mr. Roger Owen —
Dear Brother : — You are now probably returned, and are about to commence your pastoral visitation. I could wish to be along with you, to go from house to house, and step in and chat a few moments, and say something about the weather, and something about the school, and, on a good occasion, something for our Mas- ter,— and then pass on. May our Father bless you in your visits, and in all you do about that beloved school. I hope and pray you may find your highest expectations more than realized, and that the Lord will come down, and make bare his arm in your midst this summer. Remember me very kindly to Prof. Smith. As to advice about conducting the school, &.c., I am not competent to give any that would be of much use to you. I hope sincerely you will still continue the missionary talks; and, if you have op- portmiity, it might be well for you to get as many of the people as possible to take the Chronicle.
Permit me to congratulate you on your success at the last Con- test. I can do so, without anything of the spirit of Society which I felt when at College; and I may also add my earnest hope, that my dear brother will not be injured, as too many others have been, by the honors of this world, which, though glittering, are unsatis- fying ; though apparently full, are empty ; though promising much, are deceitful.
We shall look for you here next fall, and I hope to have work
LETTERS. 35
ready for you, when you do come. You will find some warm hearts ready to receive you ; and, however you may be disap- pointed as to the degree of piety here, you will still find many and great, and exceeding precious privileges, and means of preparing for future usefulness, which you would not probably find else- where. But bring with you the pure and glowing flame of piety, or you will find it ditficult to kindle it here. As is the standard of piety in Colleges, so, very nearly, will it be in the Seminary. They who are faithful or unfaithful in the lower sphere, will be much the same in the higher. I hope, especially, you will make your influence felt in the Brainerd Evangelical Society. It is ^ your last summer, and I am sure you will find no greater privi- leges here than you enjoy there. That Society ought to do much, and you should not confine your eflforts merely to attempt to kin- dle the flame in your own breast, though even this you will find hard work. It is best roused by active exertion in endeavoring to go out of one's self You know our two resolutions, to " converse with the impenitent," and ''■to converse with Christians;" what- ever you may do about the former of these, the latter is worth a serious trial again. Both had an excellent etfect on us that sum- mer. But I am lecturing to you with as much authority as if I were your master, and not merely your fellow-servant. Did you ever observe that all the seven epistles in Rev. ii. and iii. com- mence, "I know thy works 'V There is something curious and worthy of thought about that.
Monday, April 22nd. Dr. Brown came to my room on Friday night, and the Jefferson students assembled, and we had an hour's talk, and sung and prayed twice. It was as much as I could do to keep from weeping, when the venerable old Doctor raised the first tune. It seemed like former times, when we met in the Senior Hall, and lifted up our hearts to God. Your affectionate brother in Christ,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, June 24th, 1839. Mr. John Lloyd —
Dear Brother : — .... I am very sorry you cannot come here in the fall. To me nothing would afford greater pleasure ; for one of kindred spirit with myself, to enter fully hito all my feelings and sympathize with me, I have not found since we parted —at least, none like yourself It pains me now at times, when I think how much more profitable we might have been to each other in the Christian life. But it also rejoices me, to think of our seasons of Christian intercourse, and of the long walks we had over the hills, when we talked of heaven, and our hearts burned as our Saviour met with us by the way. Do you ever now enjoy such seasons ? Yesterday Dr. Alexander preached on 2 Cor. iii. 18 ; " We all, with open face," «fcc. While preaching, a few thoughts
T^ W 7^.' -St fs &. ,t. • .>.''' .^
/Ih §:
36
MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
of the astonishing' condescension and love of Jesus, the o^reat God, taking our nature upon him, and hving "manifest in the flesh," seemed to fill my mind. I could readily conceive of a Christian's soul beino^ swallowed up in contemplation of God's character and the Saviour's love. Oh ! the riches of boundless, endless grace ! Yet it is not often this icy heart is thus melted, and oh, it is much easier for the flame once kindled to die away, than to mount up and reach towards heaven. Dear brother, pray for me. The Christian's life is a warfare, and more and more do I feel that every day must witness conflicts and battles sore and long. Why should the soldiers slumber when the enemy is upon them ? Es- pecially why should the leaders be remiss when the danger is so urgent ?
The subject of missions receives some attention here, but not what it deserves. Last term the interest was considerable, and there were twelve or fifteen who looked forward to the foreign field as their future destination. How flourishes the spirit of mis- sions at College ? You have never mentioned this in any of your letters. 1 hope the Brainerd Society prospers. That band of bro- thers might do wonders; they ought to do much. So we all should. But oh ! how cold our love, how weak our faith is found. " Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ."
Most truly yours,
W. M. LOWRIE.
I
p^: ^^f
p ■ n^ I
Princeton, July 10th, 1839. Mr. Roger Owen —
Dear Brother : — Your last letter contained good and bad news. I almost envied you the privilege of going round among those dear people, and of superintending that beloved school ; but I rejoiced that you accomplished so much, and that the Lord seemed so to smile on your efl^brts. May his blessing crown them with greater and yet greater success ! I wish you would write to me soon, and draw oflf a little diagram of the school, and mark down the position of every class, number of scholars in it, and teacher's name. You have been making such additions to the school that I don't know how you look ; and then just give me the order of exercises.
The bad news in your letter was the illness of Mrs. S. and Mrs. G. By a letter to Griffith, I hear they are both called away. The stroke fell heavily upon me, and I was forced to feel the truth of the sentiments of a piece in my Album, written by Mary Ann. " Oh what a changeful world is this," &.c. The news of their death, though feared for some time, came unexpectedly ; I did hope to see at least one of them in the fall. I shall never forget an expression used by Mrs. S., when I was sitting by the window in their house one Sabbath morning. She suddenly spoke to me; " Mr. Lowrie, don't you expect to go to India ?" I told her yes.
\^ .IJ*^ 1»
LETTERS.
37
" Well, I just thought so ;" and soon after she said with deep emo- tion, " Well, Mr. Lowrie, we will think of you when you go there." My heart was full, and I could only say, " I hope so." If the spir- its of the blest may look down atid see their friends on earth, per- haps she and her daughter will think of me, but they will never on earth again see me or hear of me.
" Yet why should we a drop bemoan, Who have the fountain near."
UniE.
rtioitaod
•iie
And while Jesus thinks of us, and he will never forget us, why should we sorrow too much for the encouragements of our friends ? Tell me a good deal in your next about their last days ; and if you could secure me some little memento of either or both of them, I would prize it highly.
Now a little about myself I was at home in May and half of June, but did very little ; came back here about the middle of June, and found my hands full of business at once, besides the regular studies of the Seminary. I have charge of the Seminary Library, of a prayer-meeting weekly in Q,ueenston, about one mile from the Seminary, and about two weeks ago, when the superin- tendent of our Sunday School in Q,ueenston resigned, I was unan- imously elected to fill his place. The school is small, but much out of order just now, consequently I have much to do. Come on in the fall, and we will have a class ready for you. Last Sabbath morning, I got to thinking how we used to walk about, and go up and down those long steep hills, and all around there. " The memory of joys that are past is like the music of Caryl, pleasant and mournful to the soul."
We have a couple' of brethren in the seminary going out to Africa in two weeks, Canfield and Alward ; the former is licensed to preach, the latter is not yet. They go to explore, and will probably return and spend the first unhealth}'^ season here. I feel a deep interest in that mission. Three others go to India in the fall. There are, besides these, ten or eleven others here who look forward to the work of missions, besides several who are ex- amining the subject. Remember us in your prayers. Please write soon.
My time is up and I must bid you good-by. The blessing of our Father in heaven be with you.
Your brother in Christian affection,
W. M. LOWRIE.
:iie;
Princeton, August 21st, 1839. To Mr. John Lloyd —
Dear Friend : — Your letter did me good like a cordial. It convinced me, though I did not need that, that there was one per- son in the world who cared for so useless and insiornificant a crea-
36 MEMOIR OP WALTER M. LOWRIE.
of the astonishing- condescension and love of Jesus, the great God, taking our nature upon him, and living " manifest in the flesh," seemed to fill my mind. I could readily conceive of a Christian's 8oul being swallowed up in contemplation of God's character and the Saviour's love. Oh ! the riches of boundless, endless grace ! Yet it is not often this icy heart is thus melted, and oh, it is much easier for the flame once kindled to die away, than to mount up and reach towards heaven. Dear brother, pray for me. The Christian's life is a warfare, and more and more do I feel that every day must witness conflicts and battles sore and long. Why should the soldiers slumber when the enemy is upon them? Es- pecially why should the leaders be remiss when the danger is so urgent ?
The subject of missions receives some attention here, but not what it deserves. Last term the interest was considerable, and there were twelve or fifteen who looked forward to the foreign field as their future destination. How flourishes the spirit of mis- sions at College? You have never mentioned this in any of your letters. 1 hope the Brainerd Society prospers. That band of bro- thers might do wonders; they ought to do much. So we all should. But oh ! how cold ovu- love, how weak our faith is found. " Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ."
Most truly yours,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, July 10th, 1839. Mr. Roger Owen —
Dear Brother: — Your last letter contained good and bad news. I almost envied you the privilege of going round among those dear people, and of superintending that beloved school ; but I rejoiced that you accomplished so much, and that the Lord seemed so to smile on your efforts. May his blessing crown them with greater and yet greater success ! I wish you would write to me soon, and draw off a little diagram of the school, and mark down the position of every class, number of scholars in it, and teacher's name. You have been making such additions to the school that I don't know how you look ; and then just give me the order of exercises.
The bad news in your letter was the illness of Mrs. S. and Mrs. G. By a letter to Griffith, I hear they are both called away. The stroke fell heavily upon me, and I was forced to feel the truth of the sentiments of a piece in my Albiun, written by Mary Ann. "Oh what a changeful world is this," &c. The news of their death, though feaied for some time, caiiie unexpectedly ; I did hope to see at least one of them in the fall. I shall never forget an expression used by Mrs. S., when I was sitting by the window in their house one Sabbath morning. She suddenly spoke to me; " Mr. Lowrie, don't you expect to go to India ?" I told her yes.
LETTERS. 37
" Well, I just thought so ;" and soon after she said with deep eaio- tion, " Well, Mr. Lowrie, we will think of you when you go there." My heart was full, and I could only say, " I hope so." If the spir- its of the blest may look down and see their friends on earth, per- haps she and her daughter will think of me, but they will never on earth again see me or hear of me.
" Yet why should we a drop bemoan, Who have the fountain near."
And while Jesus thinks of us, and he will never forget us, why should we sorrow too much for the encouragements of our friends ? Tell me a good deal in your next about their last days ; and if you could secure me some little memento of either or both of them, I would prize it highly.
Now a little about myself I was at home in May and half of June, but did very little ; came back here about the middle of June, and found my hands full of business at once, besides the regular studies of the Seminary. I have charge of the Seminary Library, of a prayer-meeting weekly in Queenston, about one mile from the Seminary, and about two weeks ago, when the superin- tendent of our Sunday School in Q,ueenston resigned, I was unan- imously elected to fill his place. The school is small, but much out of order just now, consequently I have much to do. Come on in the fall, and we will have a class ready for you. Last Sabbath morning, I got to thinking how we used to walk about, and go up and down those long steep hills, and all around there. " The memory of joys that are past is like the music of Caryl, pleasant and momnful to the soul."
We have a couple' of brethren in the seminary going out to Africa in two weeks, Canfield and Alward ; the former is licensed to preach, the latter is not yet. They go to explore, and will probably return and spend the first unhealthy season here. I feel a deep interest in that mission. Three others go to India in the fall. There are, besides these, ten or eleven others here who look forward to the work of missions, besides several who are ex- amining the subject. Remember us in your prayers. Please write soon.
My time is up and I must bid you good-by. The blessing of our Father in heaven be with you.
Your brother in Christian affection,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, August 21st, 1839. To Mr. John Lloyd —
Dear Friend : — Your letter did me good like a cordial. It convinced me, tliough I did not need that, that there was one per- son in the world who cared for so useless and insignificant a crea-
38 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
ture as myself; that I was sometimes affectionately remembered when the lowering clouds without were but an emblem of the deeper gloom within ; and when despondency seemed to paralyze the energies of the soul, that still there were those who would pray for me, and sympathize with me. It was good news from a far country : and, if you will pardon the comparison, as Jonathan stripped off his own robe and gave it to David, so did the disposi- tion and frame you seemed to be in steal over my mind.
There is not much missionary spirit in the Seminary at present, and few, if any, have lately decided to go abroad. Still there ap- pears to be an under-current of feeling on the subject, which, we hope, will soon manifest itself openly. I have not yet decided where to go, and do not expect to, for some time. But let me whisper in your ear, for I don't want it known, that I look to a field nearer home than China, or even North India. Don't hold up your hands in astonishment at this — I mean Western Africa, the white man's grave. There has been a great change of feeling in the Seminary, in regard to this field, since I came here. Last summer, ^t the first part of the session, there was not one student who even thought of Western Africa as a missionary field. But during the course of the last winter, one, and then another, of the brethren determined to go to Western Africa, and they have now gone. May our Father go with them ! I look on this experiment with deep interest ; — it is yet an experiment, but I hope it will be successful.
My religious feelings are exceedingly cold at present. It is dif- ficult to be always engaged in the critical study of the Bible, and collateral objects of inquiry, and not have the mind at times drawn away from the spirit to the mere letter of the commands. Yet I do at times, even in recitation, obtain a glimpse of Him whom my soul loveth ; and O, how sweet is his countenance ! The doc- trine of justification by faith has appeared to me in a clearer light this summer than ever before ; and though sometimes the " old man" seems to revolt against it, yet it always seems the most glorious to God, and worthy of acceptance. It gives an immova- ble ground of confidence, and removes every reason for despair. O that we may both heartily embrace it, and be saved for Christ's sake only !
Write to me soon.
Your brother in Christ,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, December 5th, 1839. My Dear Mother —
I am afraid you will think I am forgetting you entirely ; but I am kept so busy by various matters, that there seems to be no time for correspondence, or writing, or any of the social duties.
We have received forty-seven new students this session, and
LETTERS. 39
probably will receive a few more. Much to my gratification, two of my most intimate College friends are among the number. This, with other mercies, makes my cup overliow. My health has con- tinued very good. I felt rather lonely in leaving home to come here, and it did seem but too short a time to spend but two weeks
with you
Yours affectionately,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, December 11th, 1839. Mr. John Lloyd —
Dear Brother : — Your very welcome epistle was taken up principally in proposing objections to Western Africa as a mission- ary field ; and I was glad to read them ; not that they have al- tered the current of my desires, but they brought the subject fully before me again.
Your objections were — 1st. The unhealthiness of Western Af- rica, and 2nd. The prospects of usefulness in North India or China. The first is a strong one, and even stronger, perhaps, than you suppose ; in one point of view, and to one ignorant of the facts, it is so. Of one huftdred and ten missionaries sent by the Church Missionary Society, in the course of thirty years, a very large propor- tion died in two or three months, and vastly the majority before they did anything : yet the very first one who went out lived twenty-three years, and several others shorter periods. But the question is, why so many died so soon? Answer: 1st. Because of the unhealthiness of the climate. 2nd. Because far less was known of the climate of W estern Africa by medical men than of almost any other tropical country ; and therefore their remedies were not so skilfully applied, nor preventives so effectually used in the first instance. 3d. Because many of the missionaries act- ed exceedingly rashly when they first commenced operations. They came from England and Germany, and, in some cases, with insufficient accommodations on their voyage. They commenced their labors immediately. During the hot summer they preached two or three times every Sabbath, superintended schools during the week, worked at hard work often. Others, particularly fe- males, died of complaints not peculiar to any climate. As to the first reason, it is with me a question whether the climate of Africa is at all more unhealthy than that of India.
Now for the second. — The prospect, of doing a great deal of good is very flattering in India. But is Africa to be left until India is evangelized? Perhaps, also, we do not at all know what the prospects are in Africa. I am inclined to think them very exten- sive. Certainly our missionaries have their hands full, and much more. What else can they say in India? Again, the human heart is the same everywhere ; yet I apprehend that there are not so many obstacles in Africa to the conversion of the natives as
40 MEMOIR OF "WALTER M. LOWRIE.
there are in India. They are a ruder people ; they have less to pride themselves upon in the way of sciences, arts, and wealth, than the Hindus ; and we know that not many noble, not many mighty, are called. True, the Lord is able to convert the learned and proud, just as well as the ignorant and degraded ; blessed be his name lor it : yet still, do we not commonly find, that a)nong the latter there are more cases of hopeful conversion than among the former? But I have not time now to continue the subject. These are some of the reasons, barely mentioned, and thrown together without any order, that combine to make me prefer Western Africa. China, I fear, is to me out of the question. My hfe will probably be short at best, and I certainly expect the greater part of it would be gone before I could master that lan- guage. Siam I might like on some accounts. I have talked of India often, and while my brother was there, I thought of that country ; but it has never appeared to me in so inviting an aspect as it has to some others. My sympathies are awakened for Af- rica. My judgment, perhaps influenced somewhat by my sympa- thies, speaks for her ; the prospects of usefulness call loudly ; objections do not seem so strong to me as to some others ; and " Here am I, Lord," is all I have to say about this subject. My mind is not made up, and will not be, till I have more carefully examined the subject. The Lord direct my inquiries, and yours also, my dear brother.
We are now engaged in studying theology — an interesting, de- lightful, and infinite subject.
Yours in the most cordial Christian love,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, January 2d, 1840. My Dear Mother —
.... I sometimes find it very difficult to refrain from quoting the words of Scripture, to point a joke or to adorn a tale. The words are suggested to the mind so appropriately, that it seems as if we could hardly help using them. Yet this certainly is a temp- tation either of Satan or our own deceitful hearts, and therefore should be avoided. It is a hard thing so to keep our lips that they offend not, and one is reminded sometimes of that Scripture, " If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body." How inconceivable to us poor creatures it seems, that our Saviour, in all his stay upon earth, never spoke an idle word ; yet such was the fact.
Last Sabbath I was reading Psalm xci. in the Sabbath School. The last verse is, "With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation." The word "satisfy," has great force and expressiveness here. Men generally are not satisfied with life; they wish it were longer, and when about to die, they shrink back from the approaching conflict. The life too of the child of God
LETTERS.
41
may end here ; but the promise is, that hereafter he shall be satis- fied with hfe ; and as nothing less than eternal life wiU satisfy the souls in heaven, there they shall be satisfied. . . . Very affectionately yours,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, January 7th, 1840. Mr. Thomas W. Kerr —
Dear Cousin :— ^. . . Our class is on the whole quite a pleasant one ; we have some * en in it of superior talents, and I trust we have some of deep, devoted piety. At present there is quite an inter- esting state of fechng in the class, on the subject of personal duty to the heathen ; and several of the class are inquiring very seriously as to their own duty. There are twelve or fifteen in the Seminary who expect to be missionaries, and from present appearances we hope there will be eight or ten more soon ; yet this is not a suffi- cient proportion ! It does seem as if many of our theological stu- dents were unwilling to examine this subject. I would hope that such is not the case with the brethren in your Seminary, but dare hardly believe it. Oh that we could all feel more deeply on this subject, one that concerns so nearly our present and future hap- piness, the welfare of immortal souls, and the glory of God. Among those in the Seminary who have decided to be mission- aries, quite a pleasant, even a delightful feeling exists, and it is good to be with them.
I should like dearly to have a good social chat with you, like some of those we used to have in Ganonsburg. I look back on my intercourse with you and Elizabeth, as among my most pleas- ant times in Ganonsburg; and Miller's Run, and the old log school-house — church 1 mean — and the shady trees, and the acorns falling down instead of gourds. But I am at the end of my sheet. Farewell — pray for me. May the richest blesshigs of our Father in heaven rest on you both.
Your affectionate cousin and Ghristian brother,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, February 21st, 1840. Mr. John M. Lowrie —
Dear Gousin: — . ... I was reading Turrettin's Theology this morning, about the tree of life, and the comparison he instituted between the tree of life and Ghrist was really most delightful. I could almost believe I was in heaven partaking of its fruits, nu- merous and varied and rich as they are ; sitting under its shade, and quaffing of the river of tlie water of life, that flows from the throne of God and the Lamb. Oh for that happy time when faith shall be turned to sight, and expectation to the full fruition of the holy joys of heaven. But alas, the language of mourning
42 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
and sorrow suits nie best. I know but in part, and I am sancti- fied but in part. I see but through a glass darkly, and eternal things fade away in the distance, while earthly trifles fill the mind. But it will not always be so. The Lord prepare us, both living and dying, to glorify his name !
.... With my present views of the holy ministry, I would rather spend four years than three in preparing directly for it, and certainly I think there will be no reason to regret having spent a - session extra in reference to it.
I find that in every place I have still the^ame evil heart, the same proneness to depart from God ; . and I fear very much, lest after a v^'hile, the exercises of this place, admirably calculated as they appear to be for the cultivation of piety, should degenerate with me into a mere round of formal duties. Nothing but con- stant dependence on God, and constant renunciation of ourselves, can possibly secure us from danger.
I am more and more convinced that the Bible, the word of God, should be the great study of the minister of God, and that all other studies should be subservient to this. Even theology is only valuable so far as it gives us clearer views of what the Bible teaches, and connected views of its great doctrines. With a com- prehensive and extended knowledge of the Bible as a whole, and in detached portions, we shall be workmen that need not be ashamed.
Your affectionate cousin, W. M. Lowrie.
Sabbath Evening, March 8th, 1840. Mr. John Lloyd —
Dear Brother : — I never think of writing a letter on the Sabbath, except to some intimate Christian friend, or other person, with whom I wish to hold religious intercourse ; and it seems to me that it is as lawful to do this as to hold Christian conversation with a Christian brother for consolation, or with an impenitent per- son for his conviction. Do you remember the day of the month when we joined the church together? I have forgotten the. pre- cise date, but it must have been about this tiiue five years ago. Five years ! How little could we, or did we, then know of what should happen in the time that has already past ! How little did we know of the trials, and difficulties, and temptations we should have to encounter in our Christian course. I verily fear that, could 1 have foreseen these difficulties I should have greatly doubted, or but for the grace of God should have even despaired of ever strug- gling on for five years amidst them. Now I do not regret what is past. When one is once fairly through with any difficulty, he cannot find it in his heart to regret that he has encountered it. But to look forward, for five, or it may be fifty years, and to think of maintaining a constant contest with in-dwelling sin ! Surely it may well appal the stoutest heart. Yet, we may answei' this
LETTERS. 43
fear in two ways. He that has led us, and fed us in the wilder- ness so long, will not now desert us ; and it argues great want of faith, and much ingratitude, to suspect that God's feelings toward us vary and change with the transient emotions of our own vari- able minds. And second, we go entirely beyond our sphere when we think of calculating how long we have to live, and how long we have to contend with Satan. " There is but a step between me and death." We know not that we shall see either fifty or five years ; nay, before this letter reaches its destination, one or other of us may have gone where there is no need of watchfulness and fightings. How foolish, then, to harass our minds with vain doubts and fears of what we cannot tell shall ever happen to us. Our duty is concerned only with the present time. " Secret things," except as revealed by prophecy, " belong unto the Lord our God," and he will direct them best.
You have probably had these thoughts often in your mind, yet the knowledge that they have sometimes had a good effect on the mind of your Christian brother, may not be ungrateful to you.
I have to mourn my exceeding coldness and deadness in religion ; while I have hardly ever had clearer views of religious things than for some time past, yet it has seemed to me that my affections have never been less vigorous than during the same period. I see so much with the intellectual eye, which the heart does not appear to be at all aware of, that I must lie very low before God. I often wonder why I am yet spared, and fear very greatly that I shall never be of any use in the ministry, so that often " my soul chooses death rather than life." True, this feeling of despondency is not right, and doubtless it often arises more from disappointed pride than from true humility. Oh, who can understand his ways ! — " Lord, cleanse thou me from secret faults, and keep thy servant back from presumptuous sins."
Did you ever meditate on Psalm xcii. 13 ? " Those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God." Does that mean that those who commence to live in God's service here, though it be but a commencement, a plantings shall live forever, and flourish in the upper sanctuary above ? This is certainly true, but does this verse teach it ? We are but nursery plants here, soon to be taken to the Paradise of God, there to flourish evermore. How consoling is this to our weakness, and doubts and fears !
In the Sabbath School of which I have charge, there are some hopeful prospects, but alas ! few and faint. — The longer I live the more I see of my own deficiencies, and of my unfitness for the great work, — and ray faith does not appear to grow in proportion to the difficulties that meet me. How hard it is to conquer self- righteousness, and trust fully and secvuely on Jesus Christ alone. Pray for me.
Your truly aflfectionate brother in Christ,
W. M. LOWRIE.
44 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, April 30th, 1840. Mr. John Lloyd —
Dear Brother : — .... Our session is very near its end, and I am heartily glad of it, for I am nearly worn down. I felt more completely sick yesterday than I have done for nearly five years ; and, though better to-day, I am still weak. This earthly house will be dissolved, certainly before many years, it may be, in a short time ; and then, what awaits me? I can look forward to death without apprehension, sure that Christ can and will save me, and feeling that there is none other who can ; yet I feel often afraid that so unprofitable a servant will not be received. Surely it would not be on account of my own e5certions, were I ever so useful ; yet I fear lest I have been so unprofitable as to have given no proofs of being really a servant. But though often depressed on account of a prevailing sense of unworthiness and sin, and scarcely ever experiencing much joy, yet I do have peace, through our Lord Jesus Christ.
I have been often of late at the bed-side of an aged Christian, who is gradually sinking away, like
" The western evening light, Which melts in deepening gloom."
I asked him yesterday morning, if he still enjoyed the peace of God ? " Oh, yes, constantly ; not a cloud is on my mind : I seem to have no will of my own, but am waiting the Lord's time." He seems, truly, ready to depart ; and though his death will be a severe trial to his family, and to myself, yet it will be to him but going home. Were it not that, perhaps, there is something for me yet to do in this world, I could wish to be in his place. Yet not my will, but thine, O Lord, be done.
Mr. Canfield, who has been to Western Africa, on an exploring mission, returned a few weeks since. He has been here for three or four days, most of the time in my room ; and I have had much conversation with him on that field. He is so well pleased that he intends returning as soon as the Board will send him, and is very anxious I should go as soon as I leave the Seminary. I cer- tainly feel very greatly inclined that way, though not disposed to do anything rashly in the matter. I must know before long what is my duty. What say you ? I wish we could have a full and free conversation on the subject, for a letter will not contain the tenth part of what I could say. I think the result of this mission has made it pretty certain that the way is open, and the prospects for life and usefulness fair ; and it is certainly one of the most interesting missionary fields in the world. At present I stand in this position : if I were to oflTer myself to the Board to-day, I would say, " Send me to any part of the world, and I will go. I do not, however, wish to go to our Western Indians, and would prefer Western Africa." The matter is coming home to me now, for it
LETTERS. 45
may be my duty to offer myself to the Board during this year ; and I rejoice to be able to say, that I never felt more willing to do so. It is a wonderful thing that such poor creatures as we should be allowed to do anything for the honor of our God, and that he should condescend to accept our weak endeavors.
. . . This is a lovely country in the evening. I am never weary of gazing on the vast plain from my window, and watching the variegated appearance it presents. The trees have now become quite green, and about sunset it presents a scene of surpassing beauty. I do not know whether other persons enjoy scenery as much as I do, but it has a most soothing effect on my mind ; and yet, gaze on it as I may, there is still a longing after something more — something higher, something holier, a longing after heaven, where we shall have no desires that cannot be satisfied. Such a view as is now spread out before my window always reminds me of heaven ; and very often, of our icalk over the hills, when the glory of heaven appeared to us both.
Your brother in Christ,
W. M. LOWRIE.
New York, July 27th, 1840. To A Sabbath School Scholar —
My Dear William : — I am persuaded that the accompanying little book will not be an unacceptable memento of a former friend — of one who not only formerly was your friend, but who still feels in you an interest not easily to be expressed. The book has a quaint title, but it is written by somebody who knows much of the world, much of the heart, and much of his Bible. In this case, as in many others, you will find, that a plain title is like the old sign over the door of a rich merchant. It may not be very inviting on the outside, but when you enter you are charmed by the variety, the order, and the value of the merchandise ; and at every step your admiration for the occupant is increased. I need not ask you to read the book, for its own merits would soon in- duce you to do that ; and I feel sure that your friendship for me would incUne you to do so. But I do ask you to ponder well the contents of some of its chapters, such as " The Warning," p. 150, and others. You will find them full of weighty matters, and, with the blessing of God, they may often direct you in your course through life, and make you wise unto salvation.
It seems but a little while since we used to meet together in the Session-room, and enjoy our mutual interviews ; and yet two years have passed. It would be in vain for me to attempt to tell you how often my thoughts run back to that time, and the pleasure that the recollection of my intercourse with my beloved class af- fords me. It is a green spot in a journey, the most of which has been a pleasant one; it is a flower of a brighter hue, and sweeter smell, in a garden where many " plants of desire" have grown ;
46 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
and though at times a deep depression of spirits does come over me, yet even then the remembrance of my former acquaintance with you, is " the memory of joys that are past — pleasant and mournful to the soul." But the probability is, that we shall not often meet tog-ether again. Our lots are likely to be widely apart, our occupations to be very different. When we do meet, we shall probably meet but for a short time, soon to part. Let not our parting be forever. We must meet yet once again, and after that there will either be no more parting, or an eternal separation. My dear William, what would I not give to see you a follower of the meek and lowly Jesus ? — to see you acknowledging him as your Master ; adorning his cause by the talents you possess ; seeking not your own glory, but his who made you ; pleasing not yourself, but him who has done so much for you. Let me entreat you to make your peace with God, through Jesus Christ.
I am sorry for your present indisposition, but perhaps it is sent in mercy, to remind you that you are here but for a season, and to excite you to come to Him now, and find salvation. Such is God's usual object in sending affliction of any kind, and though for the present it may seem " not joyous but grievous, yet after- wards it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness to them that are exercised thereby." I need hardly tell you why it is so important that you should seek religion now. You know that this is the best time ; that delays are dangerous ; that mercy, which is now waiting, may not always wait ; that the longer you continue impenitent, the more sinful you become, and the less disposed to turn to religion. You know that religion is not a gloomy thing, for what can there be in religion to make a man sad ? Surely not that God is reconciled to him, not that his sins are pardoned, and that he has the hope of heaven. Religion has its sorrows, but the sorrows of the world are far greater, and far more lasting. Religion has its joys, which the world knows not— joys more lasting than time, more precious than earth's jewels. Peace with God, peace in the heart, the joy of holiness and con- formity to God, the expectation of perfect holiness hereafter, — these are joys that will remain with their possessor in sickness as well as in health, in poverty as well as in riches, in death as well as in life, in the convulsions of nature, when the heavens are dissolved, and the elements melt with fervent heat, as well as in the quiet moments of retirement, and the calm solitudes of holy meditation.
I have written to you freely, because I wished to do you good, and because I hope your friendship for me will induce you to receive with kindness a few words of affectionate counsel. When I have gone far hence to the Gentiles, may I not hope still to live in your memory, — and may I not trust that my intercourse with you has been both pleasant and profitable? Farewell — may the God of all grace bless you, for Christ's sake.
Yours most truly, W. M. Lowrie.
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47
New York, July 27th, 1840. To A Sabbath School Scholar —
My Dear Charles : — Accompanying this, I send you a small book, as a memento of myself,— not that I fear you will soon, if ever, forget the pleasant times of other years, wlien as teacher and scholar we met together ; — but because the sight of anytiiing that once belonged to an absent friend, will easily recall him to mind, and often awaken associations that would otherwise have slept in the bosom. And what associations will the sight of anything that recalls me to your recollection, awaken? Our intercourse has been principally in the Sabbath School. It was short, but it was pleasant. I loelieve our affection and friendship for each other was mutual, and, at the present time, few things afford me more pleasure than to remember the hours spent in the corner of the Session-room, where, with my class around me, we conversed on the revelation made by a gracious God to his sinful and lost creatures. And now, in my occasional visits to this place, few occurrences afford me more gratification than to meet with any of my former class, and converse with them of other days. In the moments of gloom and despondency, which at times cloud my mind, and occasion sorrow such as those who have never felt what melancholy is can scarcely conceive, there are few things that can more speedily cheer my mind, and reassure me that there are some who care for me, than to dwell on the seasons spent in the Chris- topher street Sabbath School. The pleasure I myself feel, in rec- ollecting these things, and in meeting with you, assures me that you feel, to some extent at least, the same pleasure ; for it is com- monly true that where affection exists at all, it is mutual. " As in water face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man." Such being the interest, then, that I feel in you, you will not won- der that 1 ask, " what associations will anything that recalls me to your recollection awaken?" nor to hear that often, when others around me are slumbering, my thoughts revert to each one of my class individually, and by name ; and I think — what will become of this one, and of that one ? Shall I ever meet with them in this world ? What influence do the instructions they received from me, exert upon their hearts ? What deep impressions have they produced ? And when we meet at the last great day, shall we stand at the right hand of oiu- glorious Judge? Nor will it surprise you to hear that often I lift up the silent, and the uttered prayer, for my " beloved scholars" in general, and for each one by name, that they may be led by a gracious hand, that they may be kept from the world's temptations, that the instructions they formerly received, and are now receiving, may be as the good seed sown in good ground, and producing fruit unto eternal life.
I have been writing of myself, and of my own feelings, but it was to show you the place you hold in my heart, and to assure you that no changes of place, no length of time, can alter the in-
48 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
terest I feel in your welfare, temporal and spiritual. Now, my dear Charles, shall my fondest anticipations concerning you be realized, or have I been cherishing only the deceitful pliantoais of a mistaken fancy? Shall my prayers, poor and imperfect, but sincere, be answered? Shall my efforts for your good be ever crowned with success ? But I forget myself It is not on this ground tliat 1 would urge on you the necessity of seeking religion, and that now. No, the reasons are stronger, the motives are higher. It is because you are an immortal creature ; because by nature you are a child of wrath ; because, if your existence is to be a blessing to you, you must be born again, otherwise it had been better for you never to have been born ; because, though in yourself lost, guilty and helpless, there is yet hope, for the Son of God became man to seek and save them that are lost ; because he is ready and able to save to the uttermost, if you will believe on him; because he has a right to you ; because he calls you ; because the Spirit strives with you ; and because if you come now, you may find that yet there is room, that salvation is yours ; but if you delay, the Spirit may be grieved, and take his departure, and then farewell hope, farewell happiness, farewell God and heaven, Christ, and his love ; and then — but I cannot suffer myself to conceive the dreadful alternative when these are lost. Oh, flee from the wrath to come. "There is now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus," and you may be in him if you will. "Ye would not come unto me (hat ye might have life," is the dreadful charge against those in Christian lands who receive not eternal life. Oh, that you would lay these things to heart. If you are laboring and heavy-laden, Christ will give you rest. He is an all-sufficient, ever-present Saviour ; and aAiidst gloom and sickness, sorrow and fear, he can deliver and protect you, — • can bless and save you. You need just such a Saviour, and he can fill all the desires of your heart.
I know that at times you must feel an aching void within you, a desire after something you have never yet attained, a longing after something that will fill the mind. You can find it nowhere but in Christ. He is altogether lovely, and the more you know of him the more you will admire him.
Let me recommend to you one thing. I feel persuaded that if you attempt it, and persevere in it — with prayer for his blessing — you will experience great benefit, and will ever rejoice that you attempted it. It is — at least once every week, I wish you would do it daily — that you take some action of our Saviour, and consider it carefully ; see what traits of character it exhibits, why it was performed, and what it teaches ; or, take any one of his say- ings, and think on it for some time. I would not say how long, judge of that for yourself; but do not stop thinking upon it too soon. Take, for instance, the birth of Christ, Luke ii. 7 ; his weeping over Jerusalem, Luke xix. 41 ; any of his miracles : or his sayings, such as John iii. 36 ; iv. 14 ; Mark iv. 22, &c. I can
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tell you, from my own experience, that few things are more profit- able.
But it is time for me to stop. Let me entreat again your serious consideration of these things. If you ever feel disposed to write to me, it will afford me great pleasure to hear from you, and to answer your letters. I hope to see you yet exerting such an influ- ence, and commanding such respect as your talents entitle you to expect. But seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness — and all these things shall be added unto you,
Yours most truly,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, August 22d, 1840. My Dear Mother —
.... The time runs too rapidly for me, and in five weeks more the session will close. We are but strangers and sojourners here, soon to go hence. I have been very much struck in reading the book of Genesis lately, to find how very often Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with all their wealth and dependents, still speak of themselves as strangers, sojourners and pilgrims. Could we only realize that "here we have no abiding city," the trials and vexa tions and disappointments that continually befall us would exert but little influence, and would only induce us, like the traveller, to hasten forward on our journey. And though it be often a painful journey, it is one in which we have continual cause to make men- tion of the loving-kindness of the Lord, who accompanies us, who guides us, who leads us often by the still waters, and causes us to lie down in the green pastures. He will be our guide unto death, and then will not forsake us, " for this God is our God forever and ever." So may it prove to us all.
Have you ever read Mrs. Hawkes' memoirs? I find them very instructive, opening up fountains of deep Christian experience, and displaying many of the deep things of religion. She was a wo- man of strong mind, sincere piety, great kindness of heart, and though often in the former part of her life troubled with melan- choly, yet afterwards uncom nonly cheerful in the midst of severe sufferings. The best books of human composition require you to read many pages to obtain any complete view of a person's char- acter ; but in the Bible, you will find characters drawn most com- pletely in a single sentence. You will learn more of their dispo- sition, &c., from an apparently trivial action or expression there recorded, than from the most labored description in other books.
Why is this ? Truly the law of the Lord is perfect
Yours very truly,
W. M. LOWRIE.
4
50 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, September 3d, 1840. Mr. John Lloyd —
My Dear Brother : — .... At the time I received your letter I was not very well, and shortly afterwards went home and spent a week there. I was at that time received under the care of the Second Presbytery of New York, and had my pieces assigned me. My Latin piece is, "An Christus pro electis solum mortuus sit?" on which I have written an essay, and translated it into something that professes to be Latin, and is so long that it covers five foolscap pages. This, with many and various other duties, has kept me very busy for several weeks past. My health is now very good, and I hope, Deo volente, to be hcensed next April, and ordained soon after.
.... I have just been examining a httle insect on my window, and comparing its body with those of other insects and with my own. It is wonderfully different from them in shape, size, mate- rials, uses, and objects. It has some members I do not possess, and wants others granted to me. It has life, though not an inch in length, and it appears to enjoy its existence. It is but one of an infinitely numerous class of beings, each species of which is so diff"ereat from every other, that we can hardly conceive of them as possessing any qualities in common. Yet they have some, for they all live, they all enjoy life, and they were all made by one great and glorious Being. How condescending must He be, who has so curiously wrought their little frames. How wise, thus to fashion their bodies. How kind, thus to grant them life and hap- piness. How infinite in knowledge to know all their actions, to direct and govern all their motions, to foresee and provide for all their wants. Will He look with indifference on men? Will He neglect to attend to them when they lift their eyes to Him, and cry Abba, Father? Surely not.
But how huaibhng is the tliought, that with all our boasted wis- dom and vaunted power, we cannot understand the hidden mys- teries of these little insects, nor frame another like ihem. But then it is a glorious truth, that hereafter we shall know all we wish to know ; and our knowledge, instead of puffing us up, will humble us, and cause us to love our God and Saviour more. And even now, we may look on these little living things, and say, " My Father made them all." I thank thee, little fly ; the sight of thee has filled my soul with pleasant thoughts ; and I write them here that my friend may share them with me
Farewell, — The Lord be with you and bless you.
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, November 16th, 1840. My Dear Mother — •
Your letter from the distant south, came to me like good news from a far country. You left New York September 30th, I left it
LETTERS. 51
the next day, and had a pleasant journey to Philadelphia, Canons- burg, Pittsburg, and Butler, going and returning, a thousand miles of travel. I spent a most pleasant Sabbath with the church at Mil- ler's Run, where my old Sunday School is. At Pittsburg the Synod was in session, and, botli in that city and in Butler, I saw and spoke to many dear friends. For particulars, I refer you to the inclosed. On the 5tb of November I arrived at my old room in Princeton, prepared to say with gratitude. Hitherto the Lord has helped and blessed me.
I have now got pretty fairly settled down to study. This is my last session ; I can scarcely realize that so short a time as six months will finish my theological course. It would not take much to induce me to begin it again. At present, other duties seem to call me hence; but who is sufficient for these things?
I shall probably offer myself to the Board as a missionary soon, unless something of which I know nothing, should occur to pre- vent. Don't stay so long in the south, that you cannot be back in time to see me off.
Yours most truly,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, December 10th, 1840. To THE Executive Committee of the Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church — -
It has been my wish and intention for several years to spend my life as a missionary to the heathen. Believing that it is the duty of the Church in her organized capacity to prosecute the work of missions, I offer myself to you as a candidate for that work ; and if accepted, shall hold myself in readiness to enter on it shortly after the close of the present session of the Theological Seminary.
I am now in my twenty-second year, and have been a professor of religion for nearly six years. The work of missions has always appeared to me to be identical with that of the ministry, requiring the same talents and preparation, and demanding that those who engage in it should be actuated by the same motives which influ- ence those who enter on the ministry at home. The considera- tions which have influenced me to believe I ought to enter some foreign field, are, a desire for some such field, considered as a means of being more useful, and the fact, that while comparatively a large number are willing to enter the ministry at home, few will go abroad. The call from heathen lands is loud. It must be answered, and knowing no particular reason why I should settle in this country, I feel prepared, with humility, and yet with cheer- fulness, to say, "Here am I, Lord, send me." In addition to this, the leadings of Providence, ever since I first joined the church, and particularly since I entered this Seminary, have seemed to direct my course far hence to the Gentiles.
52 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
In making you this offer of my services, I shall leave it to the Committee to decide on my field of labor. My own preferences however are strongly towards Western Africa, and I am perfectly willing to take on myself the responsibility of going to that field. It has been before my mind distinctly for two years and a half, and before either of your present missionaries to that field had de- cided to go there. Still, if it be probable that my usefulness would be greater elsewhere, I shall willingly go to any other field. My health is not robust, yet commonly it is good. I believe myself to be more in danger of pulmonary diseases than of any other, but should probably be less liable to them in a more southern climate than this.
Praying that the Lord would bless and prosper the cavise of missions, and all those engaged- either at home or abroad in furthering it,
I remain with Christian respect and esteem. Yours, (fcc,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, January 2d, 1841. Mr. John Lloyd —
Dear John : — Your letter of Dec. 6th, arrived here fifteen days after date, but though long on the road was a very welcome guest, and has been interrogated more than once as to the news and state of matters and things with an old and dearly-beloved friend. I cannot tell you how much I prize your friendship, nor how I value your letters ; but I often wonder how you can speak of me in such glowing terms, when conscious to myself that such lan- guage is so poorly deserved. I can attribute it only to the uniting power of our common faith, and the grace of our common Lord, who seems to have fitted us so well for each other, to be helpers of each other's joy, and sympathizers in each other's sorrows. After having been so intimately united in College, is it possible that we shall never meet again ? You will perhaps wonder at me if I tell you that within the last three months I have been within one mile of you without seeing you — yet it was so. c spent about three weeks in Pittsburg, Butler, and Canonsburg in October, passing through Greensburgh. To my very great disap- pointment, however, you had, just before I got in, gone to your academy, and there was not time to send for you while the stage stopped. I had a great wish to remain a day, but could not, and with a heavy heart I left without seeing you. I hoped to have found you here, but the Lord has seen fit to order it otherwise. When shall we meet again?
My present plans are, to be licensed in April, — spend the sum- mer preaching, either in New York or Pennsylvania, — probably, though not yet decided, to spend another year in the Seminary, and go out to Africa in 1842. I am now under the care of the Missionary Board, but there is very little probability of my being
LETTERS. 53
sent off under a year, or a year and a half. Nor am I, considering my age and qualifications, very anxious to go sooner, though per- fectly willing to go this next summer, if necessary.
I offered myself to the Board some three weeks since, and ex- pressed a decided preference for Africa as my field. I may be in error, but it seems to me that the danger from the climate is very greatly overrated, and if an entrance into the interior could be ef- fected, which some English Baptist missionaries are now trying to do, (he probability is that we could live very well. The country is populous. We owe them a deep debt. Their superstitions are old, foolish, and feeble. They have a reverence for white men, and would probably be willing to receive instruction. There is a glori- ous promise that " Ethiopia shall soon stretch forth her hands unto God." Is not the field white to the harvest — where are the reapers ? . . .
The Lord bless thee, and keep thee, ray brother.
W. M. LOWRIE.
Princeton, January 2d, 1841. Mr. John O. Proctor —
Dear Brother : — ... It is very humiliating to our pride, to find how little knowledge we can acquire, after our utmost and perse- vering efforts. It seems but like a drop in the bucket compared with the vast amount of knowledge still unexplored, and of whose very existence oftentimes we are wholly ignorant. What a vast collection of authors on every subject ! How much deep learning, profound with eloquence and piety, is treasured up in the works of other days, and yet how little of it all can we possibly know ! I feel at times disposed to give up in despair. Life seems too short to learn even all that a minister needs to know, leaving entirely untouched what he would wish to understand, but is not compelled to attend to. Looking at the ministry only so far as mere intel- lectual qualifications are concerned, who is sufiicient for it? And yet this is a minor topic. To understand and feel the truths of the Bible ; to experience deeply the work of the Spirit ; to humble our- selves before God, and submit our proud hearts implicitly to his teaching ; to become fools for Christ's sake, that we may be wise ; to confide ourselves in Clirist's hands, and take him for our all-in- all, and to live daily near unto him, and growing in conformity to him — Hoc opus^ hie labor est. It seems to me, that the nearer I get to the office of the ministry, the less am I prepared for it, either physically, mentally, or spiritually. Blessed be God for his promise, " My grace is sufficient for thee." When we are weak, then we are strong. Pray for me. I shall look for a letter from you soon.
Yours, in the bonds of Christian affection,
W. M. LOWRIE.
54 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
Princeton^ January 26th, 1841. My Dear Mother —
. . . How checkered and changing is the condition of our family, — some here, some there ; we meet together for a short time, and then we part. We are drawn up, as it were, from the sea of hfe, and, like scattered drops of rain, we fall, some nearer, and some further off; sometimes so close that we run together, at other times scattered over wide lands. O that, hke the rain, we may refresh and fertilize every spot we touch, and be the means of mak- ing even " the wilderness to bud and blossom like the rose." Like the drops of rain too, we are but for a moment ; we are changed into vapor that soon vanisheth away. Even such is our life — " like the foam on the water," we are cut off. So be it, — the num- ber of our months is with God, and our days are determined. He knoweth what is best for us. . . .
Yours affectionately,
W. M. Lowrie.
Bedford, N. Y., May 26th, 1841. My Dear Mother —
I have spent the week here very pleasantly. On the Sabbath I preached twice, and attended a funeral, five miles off. These ex- ercises wearied me very much.
I have just had one of the longest jaunts among the rocks I have had for some time. After ascending a number of small hil- locks, each higher than the preceding, and each crowned with sev- eral large rocks, I reached the top of the highest hill. The pros- pect was beautiful, and on several sides extensive. Whilst resting, I began to observe more minutely the top of the hill. Several large rocks shot up obliquely from beneath the ground ; a few moderate-sized trees were growing among them ; and 1 found sev- eral little delicate flowers — a violet, a little white flower, and va- rious kinds of grasses. What a contrast between the everlasting rocks and the fading flowers, and yet both were found side by side. 1 could not help thinking of the way in which the Bible sometimes groups together the grandest, and at the same time the most lovely of God's attributes ; for example —
"Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and thy dominion endureth throughout all generations. The Lord upholdeth all that fall, and raiseth up all that be bowed down." — Psalm cxlv. 13, 14.
So admirably do the book of nature and the book of revelation agree, when they speak of our heavenly Father. Pursuing my observations farther, I found several busy ants tugging away at their several loads, a little wood spider, and several delicately formed little flies, all busy, and all apparently happy. Yet though so small, God — the same God that founded the hills, and hardened the rocks — was watching over them, and supplying their wants.
LETTERS. 55
I admired the wisdom and goodness displayed in everything there, and with, I trust, a good deal of the spirit of a true worshipper, I knelt down on the hill-top to offer praises and prayers to him, whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain, and who yet dwells in the humble and the contrite heart. Such seasons are like fore- tastes of heaven. I may never revisit that solitary place, yet I
hope often to remember it
Yours most affectionately, W. M. Lowrie.
Detroit, June 24th, 1841. Dear Mother —
After leaving New York, the usual incidents of travel brought me to Buffalo at 7 o'clock, p. m., on Saturday. I found a hearty welcome at the Rev. .T. C. Lord's, where I spent the Sabbath, and preached for him, and on Monday took the steamboat for Detroit, where I arrived on Wednesday morning. I was most kindly received by R. Stuart, Esq., and his lady. This seems to be a very pleasant city ; the upper part of Jefferson Avenue is really beautiful. Roses are out in full bloom, and have been out for sev- eral days. I went over to the Canada shore yesterday, and strolled up the river two or three miles. I saw a red-coated sentinel patrol- ling up and down the wharf, and on asking an American how long he had been there, I received for an answer, — " Three years." " What was he doing ?" " Keeping the dogs off the ferry-boat."
In this city a great many people talk French, and they have a French Roman Catholic church. I heard a most excellent prac- tical discourse last evening by Bishop McCoskrey. It made me feel that though I was a stranger here, yet there were those here whom I might hope to meet in a better world, where we shall know perfectly.
I find doing nothing is hard work, and steamboat travelling is not what some think it is. However, a little shaking in the Michigan stages, on their primitive railroads, and perhaps on horse- back, may be of service to health. I can hardly believe that I am more than six hundred miles away from home. I often think, and not unpleasantly, of the Scriptural phrase, " Strangers and pilgrims." There is a great deal of meaning and beauty in the verse —
" While through this changing world we roam, From infancy to age — Heaven is the Cliristian pilgrim's home, His rest at every stage."
I could not help thinking, as we came up the lake, that we pass through life, like a boat over the waters ; and that the things which now occupy our attention, though, like the waves, they may amuse us for a moment, are yet, like the waves, soon to change, and pass away. . . .
Love to all. W. M. Lowrie.
56 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
Ogdetisburgh, July 23d, 1841. My Dear Father —
I arrived in this place about, a week ago, and though Mr. Savage was absent, Mrs. Savage, and the members of the congregation, received me very cordially. Mr. Savage returned a day or two since, and seems to be very glad that I have come.
There are a good many churches in Canada in correspondence with our church, not one of which, as far as I can learn, is doing anything for foreign missions. It might not be considered proper for us to do an)' thing among tliem at present, when so many of our own churches need to be roused up ; and yet it would be for their own good, if they could be induced to take some action on the subject. Most of them are small and weak, and at present a good deal of prejudice against ministers from the United States is said to prevail among them. If it be not expedient for our Board to do anything among them, would it not be at least worth while for the General Assembly, in their next letter, to suggest to them the importance of attention to our Lord's last commands? I hope to see one or two of their ministers, before leaving this part of the country, and learn some farther particulars respecting them. A few of them contribute to the American Tract, and I think also to the American Bible Societies. Much love to all. I remain, your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Ogdensburgh, July 31st, 1841. My Dear Father —
I have iust received yours of July 28th, and as it was the first news I had from home, it was a. very agreeable visitor. I have made appointments to preach to-morrow at Morristown, and at the second church of Oswegatchie, and the Sabbath following at Evans' Mills, so that I shall not be able to leave for home until the 9th or 10th of August. I hope, however, to be home about this day two weeks. Thus far my visit has been very pleasant, and profitable to myself at least, if not to others. The people have everywhere received me cordially, and seemed quite gratified at my coming.
In regard to the object for which Mr. Orr wishes to see me, I suppose I know what it is, and am half inclined to think that it can be settled as well in my absence as otherwise. My mind was turned very strongly to Africa three years since, and the consid- erations that induced me to wish to go there were — that very few are willing to labor in that field, and that my talents seem to fit me peculiarly for such a people as the Africans are. I like to deal with an ignorant and yet affectionate people, who are not self- conceited. My acquirements, preparations, &-c., seem to qualify me for that field. Another consideration that weighs a good deal
LETTERS. 57
with me is, that every one expects that I shall g"o to Africa. It is not vanity that induces me to believe, that both Canfield and Alward will be greatly disappointed should I go to any other field ; and I fear that many of those vvlio know what my intention has been, will attribute any change in my destination to fear of the climate. For myself, I should not care about any such suspicions ; but the effect on others may be unpleasant, as it may induce some who have thought of going to Africa to hesitate.
There is still another consideration of a personal nature. The mission to Africa is considered rather a dangerous experiment, and if I should now decide to go elsewhere, would it not give some captious spirits the opportunity of saying, that the Corresponding Secretary was willing to let others go there, but not to let his own son expose himself? These considerations make me unwilling, with my present views, to take on myself the responsibility of de- termining to go to any other country. If the Executive Commit- tee, however, think my services are more needed in China than in Africa, and that, all things considered, I will be more useful in the former place ; then I have nothing further to say, but will cheerfully submit to their decision ; and shall hold myself in readiness to go this fall, if necessary. I shall, in that case, wish to have it stated in the Chronicle, that " my preference was for Western Africa, but the wants of the China mission being such as to induce the Executive Committee to change my destination, I consented," &c. Such a statement, I think, would not be im- proper, while it would shield me from the charge of " lightness," or wisliing to avoid an exposed station.
This letter you may consider either as addressed to yourself per- sonally, or to the Executive Committee. Mr. Orr's statements may perhaps induce me to take some other course than the one above mentioned, but at present, I do not see that I can do other- wise.
Monday, August 2d. I preached yesterday morning at Morris- town, and in the afternoon at Mr. Rodgers'. The people seemed much interested in both places. I expect to be at Mr. Savage's Monthly Concert this evening, and to start on Wednesday or Thurs- day for Evans' Mills. I hope to be at home by Wednesday or Thursday of next week. Mr. Savage desires his kind regard to you. Much love to all at home.
I remain, your affectionate son,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Steamboat )St. Lawrence, Lake Ontario, July 13th. Dear Mother —
When riding in the wild woods of Michigan, I found so many ideas coming up, that I concluded to write you a good long letter. I have it all to write yet, and the steamboat shakes so, that I write like Mr. Hopkins in the Declaration of Independence.
58 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
From Detroit by railroad to Ann Arbor, it is a dreary country part of the way, heavy timber and thick underbrush, and any quantity of marshes. I took the opposition stage to Jacksonville. The driver was a harum-scarem creature, full of opposition, drink- ing and swearing constantly. I reached Marshall on Saturday morning, and was most kindly received by Mr. and Mrs. Wells. On Sabbath I preached twice to the Congregational church in Marshall, which is at present without a pastor. Having hired a horse, I left on Tuesday morning. The first part of my ride to Belone, four- teen miles, was pleasant enough. I passed a great many little lakes, and crossed a great many marshes, on log bridges. These are formed by laying together round logs from three to twelve inches diameter. People may laugh at these bridges, but after they have been swamped as I was, they will think better of them. In the afternoon the road became worse, and the country was very heavily timbered, and in one place for six miles I saw neither a house nor a clearing. I reached Vermontville before sunset. This village contains about two hundred persons, mostly from Vermont. It is perhaps the most religious place in the Union. Every family but one has family prayers.
Next day I was off early ; twenty miles were passed without finding an inhabitant. At first the trees had been cut down tow- ards making the road, but were not removed, and the path wound off into the woods to avoid them. I tried to follow it, but soon my horse began to sink in the soft ground, and then jumped and floundered about, sinking deeper at every step. I jumped ofT, and found I had lost the path. After exploring a little, and lead- ing my horse, I found the path again. I soon came to a place grown over with a broad-leaved weed, and lost the path again. Pretty soon the ground became soft and wet, with large trees lying in every direction. I jumped off again to make a further explora- tion. But the further I went the more impassable it was, and, in utter despair of finding any path there, I turned back.
What was I to do ? I had come six miles without seeing a human being, and had fourteen miles to go before I would come to a house. I was in the middle of a large swamp, and no path. It was very warm, and no air was stirring through that mighty forest. Its loneliness seemed to have frightened away the very birds, for I saw none, nor heard any, except the rough, unpleasant notes of the blue jay. I went back half a mile, and found the path had turned to the right to avoid the swamp. Four miles further I met a man with his rifle. I kept on, mile after mile, and again and again losing the path, as it turned off to avoid the swamps. Occasionally I saw the tracks of some one that had passed the same way, and these were almost the only evidence I had that I was in the right way, for road there was none, not even was the underbrush cut away.
While carefully looking for these foot-prints, and rejoicing when I saw them, I was reminded of the saying of one of the old English
LETTERS. 59
divines — " Let no Christian, however clear his hopes, despise the least sign of grace ; the time may come when he would give worlds for the least evidence that he is a child of God, and in the road to heaven." Other thoughts of the same kind passed through my mind. Sometimes when the road wound between two swamps, I thought of Christian in the valley of the shadow of death. Then again, when I was carefully looking to find the path, I thought how anxiously should the Christian seek to be in the path of duty, — -if he varies from it he may be lost irrevocably ; he may sink in the raire, be lost among the thorns and briers, or wander in the wilder- ness.— I came at last to a small cabin eight miles from Ionia, and reached that place before the sun went down, fully determined that I would return some other way.
I found next day, at the land office, that my journey had been for nothing. The land on which the Chippewa Mission is placed had been advertised by the government, but the sale had been in- definitely postponed. I left Ionia July 1st, and took the road on the north side of Grand river. The country was slightly undulat- ing ; no underbrush ; the trees high, and far apart. I crossed Grand and Flat rivers, both beautiful streams, and came at night to the Widow Kent's, thirty-two miles. Next day the road lay through a beautiful country, though thinly inhabited, and with a profusion of flowers, some of which were very beautiful. I saw
whole fields quite blue with the " four-o'clocks," which R ■
watches so carefully in your little garden. Then there were wild roses, red liUes, sweet-williams, yellow marigolds, wild peas, and many others, red, blue, and white, which I had never seen before. Some were very beautiful, especially the mocassin flower. It is a large lady's slipper ; the flower is red and white, and has a very fine appearance. All this was in the wilderness.
" Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air."
But are they unseen 7 Is their sweetness wasted 7 Would this be consistent with wisdom in that glorious Being who makes nothing in vain ? Yet of what use are they 1 Well, they are the houses of a great many insects. It is said that several different kinds live in every plant. Then, their seeds are food for the little birds. Who can tell us, too, what effect their perfumes have upon the winds that sweep over these solitudes, and visit, in all their fresh- ness and healthful influences, the abodes of men ? Then, how do we know but that these wild woods are the school-houses of other beings, who come down and learn lessons from the flowers as they spring up in their beauty, and open towards the pure light of heaven ? It is a very contracted view of things to suppose that the productions of the earth are intended only for man, and are lost if he does not use them. But there is another thought of far more weight — these flowers are grateful to God himself; he "de- lights in the work of his hands," What skill, and wisdom, and
60 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
goodness, are displayed in these little flowers ! He " clothes the lilies of the field." Surely, if God delights in these works of his hands, they were not made in vain — their beauty is not unseen — their sweetness is not wasted.
On — on I went — saw some Indians, some of them in tents. In some places the plough was at its work, and I saw four, and at ano- ther time, seven yoke of oxen to a single plough. I thought of Elisha, the son of Shaphat, ploughing with twelve yoke of oxen, and he with the twelfth. What was he doing with so many ? Was he breaking up new land in Palestine ? Or had he twelve ploughs? I reached Marshall at noon, July 3d, and next day at- tended their Sabbath School celebration.
The following Sabbath I spent in Buffalo, and on Monday I started off for the Falls of Niagara, determined that this time I would see both sides. I spent several hours on the Canada side, and got my face wet with the spray on Table Rock, but did not feel inclined to go under the Horse-Shoe fall. I soon began to drink in the spirit of the place, and to feel my soul expanding with the emotions it was so well fitted to produce. I will not in- flict a description on you for several very good reasons. I spent the night and the next day till 2 o'clock p. m., on the American side. Every step about the falls was as familiar as if I had tra- versed them but yesterday, and yet it was seven years since our hasty visit to the place. The little bridge on the Terrapin rocks, where we all sat down, and looked over into the boiling abyss, is broken down. You will recollect how we all admired that mag- nificent scene. I felt melancholy almost all the time. Where were those with whom I had formerly walked over these scenes ? Two of them were already in their graves. I saw many others there, like our party was seven years ago — husbands and their wives, — ^parents and their children, — brothers and their sisters. As we did then, they seemed to enjoy their visit the more from the society of each other. But I was now alone, — I knew no one, and scarcel}^ spoke to any one. " A stranger and a pilgrim," my thoughts turned to our everlasting home. Here I was surrounded with the evidences of the power and glory of God. The dashing, roaring waters ; the foam and the silver bubbles that floated on the waves ; the bright rainbow that played in quietness over the scene ; the old trees on the island ; and the little flowers that grew out of the fissures of the everlasting rocks — each seemed to have a tongue to speak the praises of the great Creator. My heart was full ; and as I felt almost overpowered by the solemnly joyful feelings of my soul, I could not but ask — will there be such scenes as these in heaven ? The only answer I could give was, if not, there will be that which will produce the same emotions that these do, in a more enrapturing degree. We can know the character of God only in his word and in his works, for himself we cannot see. Here we learn his power, wisdom, and goodness, by such sights as these. In heaven we shall know far more of these same
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attributes. What the works which shall declare those attributes shall be, we may not presume to say. But if they are not sucb as we see on earth, they will be so much more glorious that we shall not wish again to see these mighty displays of his power.
From the falls I went to Ogdensburgh, and was most kindly received by the Rev. Mr. Savage and his lady. I remained in this neighborhood from the 20th of July till the 3d of August, and preached in a number of the churches. Some of our meet- ings were seasons of deep interest, and I formed acquaintances which I will remember while I live. With Mr. and Mrs. Savage and their children, I could not but feel at home. I saw a good deal of that dear patriarch, the Rev. Mr. Rogers, and preached for him several times. I enio3^ed our intercourse very much, and I trust profited by the privilege of being with him. And when speaking of the Saviour he said : " Whenever the Bible speaks of Christ by way of metaphor, it is always with some term expres- sive of divine excellencies. If he is called a tree, then it is the tree of life. If he is called a vine, then it is the true vine. If he is called a shepherd, then it is the good shepherd. If he is called a plant, then it is the plant of renown." The remarks may not be new to you, but they were to me, and they brought to my mind the idea, that the flowers of the Bible, are like the floweri%of the field, the more closely they are examined, the more beautiful do they appear.
The river St. Lawrence is the noblest river I have ever seen. Opposite Ogdensburgh it is about a mile and a quarter wide. I had a good view of it from the window of my bedroom. It flows on in its majestic calmness ; the waters are beautifully clear, and very deep. The opposite bank looks well in the distance, much better indeed than when you are close to it.
July 31st. A letter from home ; all well. Mr. Orr has returned from China, and wishes to see me. I suppose Ije wishes me to go to China. Well, I am ready if it be necessary, but I would rather go to Africa. However, here am I, and God is everywhere, and I will go wherever he sends me.
August 2d. My time in this pleasant neighborhood is nearly up, and in two days I set off for home. Yet why do I talk of home 7 "Strangers and pilgrims" — such we all are, and who more than I? I don't know whether this lonely feeling that so often comes over me be the cause of it, but I love to walk in graveyards, and read the names on the tombstones. The influence of such places seems to come over my soul with a quietness and calmness that is really plea.^nt. When I w^as in Rochester I visited Mount Hope ceme- tery— a beautiful place. The inscription on a grave of a mother and her daughter, struck me as very beautiful :
"The night dew that falls, though in silence it weeps, Shall brighten with verdure the grave where they sleep; And the tears that we shed, though in secret they roll, Shall long keep their memory fresh in the soul."
62 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
While in Ogdensburgh I spent an hour among the tombs. Sev- eral of the inscriptions attracted my attention ; some for their spelling, others for their quaintness, a few for their beauty. Here are some of them :
ON AN INFANT'S GRAVE.
" Ere sin could blight or sorrow fade, Death comes with friendly care ; The op'ning bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it blossom there."
The two following, also on the graves of infants :
" Sleep on, dear child, From sorrow free, Ere long thy friends Will sleep with thee."
" Thus on the rose
The worm corroding lies. And ere it to perfection grows, It withers, fades, and dies."
There is nothing remarkable in the two following, yet they are pleasaat :
" Lo where this silent marble weeps, A friend, a wife, a mother sleeps ; A heart within whose sacred cell, The peaceful virtues loved to dwell."
" Death to thee is bliss eternal, Our loss is thy eternal gain. Thou dwell'st where spring is ever vernal, And life asserts its right to reign."
I was most struck with the stone over the grave of Mary Eliza- beth, Mr. Savage's eldest daughter. It contained simply her name, age — a little over five years, date of her death, and under- neath,
" Thefloiverfadeth."
August 3d. My work here seems to be now done ; I start to- morrow for Evans' Mills, and thence for New York, and then — where ?
Denmark, N. Y., August 9th. Now for the last paragraph of my letter, or journal, or whatever you choose to call it. I preached yesterday three times for Mr. Eastman, at Evans' Mills, and was pretty well tired. These ministers have no mercy on a wayfaring brother when he comes along. I left early, and arrived here at eight P.M. I have now before me sixty-one miles by stage, ninety- six by railroad, and one hundred and forty-five by steamboat ; three hundred and two miles, to be passed over in thirty-six hours. However, rest after labor is sweet. If we were all as eagerly anti-
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63
cipating- the rest of heaven, as I am the close of my present jour- ney, it would be well.
" This life is but a fleeting show, There 's nothing true but heaven."
I hardly know whether to say " Good-by," or " How are you ?" I am at the end of my letter, and therefore the former seems most proper ; but when you receive it, I will be at the end of my jour- ney, and then the last will suit best. However, in either case, I am
Most affectionately yours,
W. M. LOWRIE.
Pittsburg, Pa., September 24th, 1841. My Dear Mother —
Since leaving New York on this, most probably my last visit to this side of the mountains, I have been so constantly on the move, I have not been able to write to you. Indeed there has but little occurred that is worth notice. I came by way of Washington and Canonsburg, spending a Sabbath at Miller's Run, my old parish when I was a student in college. It was a time of deep feeling both to them and to myself, especially when I told them I never expected to meet them again in this world. I preached on Monday in Can- onsburg, and on Tuesday came to Pittsburg. After two days with our friends there, I set off for Butler and Venango counties. I spent the Sabbath in Butler, and preached once for Mr. Young. I need not go over my visits to our friends at Slippery Rock, Scrubgrass, and Big Sandy. Very pleasant and very painful they were. O how affectionate and kind my dear aunts were ; and painful as was our parting, it was brightened with the blessed hope of meeting again in peace, when time shall be no more.
I returned to Butler on Saturday, and preached for Mr. Young on the Sabbath. In the morning, on " I am a stranger in the earth ;" and the afternoon on missions. In the evening, a very large number came to the Monthly Concert meeting, and Mr. Young and myself both talked some. Much feeling was mani- fested, and many tears shed. My text in the morning seemed to my own feelings to be appropriate, even in this the place of my birth. I left the place so young, and have been so long absent, that my earliest playmates are strangers to me. I walk through its streets, and feel myself almost alone. I meet but few I know, and the houses of old friends are filled with strange faces. The school-house looks unnatural, from the changes in the neighboring buildings, and the thickets and the forests where I played have been cleared away. Even the church, with which some of my earliest recollections are associated, has been removed, and another stands near its former site. In the graveyard alone, I felt at home. Here my deepest affections clustered over the grave of my own
64 MEMOIR OF WALTER M. LOWRIE.
sainted mother ; the letters on her tombstone are not more faith- ful to their trust, than is my memory to her pure and lovely vir- tues. There, too, were many whom I knew slightly, or of whom I have learned much from others. How sweet the thought that many of God's children are sleeping here, and their dust is pre- cious to that Saviour who never sleeps, and who has the keys of death in his hand.
Next day I came to Pittsburg, and after staying a few days with my sister, I will set out for home. . . .
Affectionately yours, W. M. Lowrie.
Princeton, September 3d, 1841.
THE PRESENCE OF CHRIST WITH HIS PEOPLE.
( Written in a hook of Extracts, for Wm. H. Hornblower.)
That Christ Jesus is constantly with his people, is a fact de- clared with surprising frequency both in the Old and New Testa- ments. It was He who appeared to Isaac, and said, " Sojourn in this land, and I will be with thee, and bless thee :" Gen. xxvi. 3. It was He who appeared to Jacob, as he lay upon the cold ground, and said, "I am with thee in all places ; I will not leave thee:' Gen. xxviii. 15. It was He who appeared to Moses in the burning bush, and sending him to the court of Pharaoh, said, " Certainly I will be with thee :" Ex. iii. 12. And when David, in the sweet- est strains of poetry and piety, sang, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want ; yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with