KELSO, April 28th, 1846.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—Do not forget Monday next.
(Day of prayer and fasting) In spite of Satan and
the flesh keep it from morning to evening. In spite of the temptation, ‘O
this must be done, or 'that sick person must be seen,' or 'that caller on
business must be listened to for a moment, only a moment !' —in spite of
all, keep the day.
Ask the Holy Ghost to teach us afresh—to teach us
the Bible, and how to preach its contents and not our thoughts. O what need of
prayer! The land lies dead. Jesus is little loved even by His own. Who are the
mighty men that will break through the host of the Philistines to bring Him one
cup of water? O brother, let us lie low. Let us seek the 'mourning as for an
only son.'
I have to-day to write sixteen letters, and then to go to
Jedburgh, so I must close. Remember me who am on this occasion your
remembrancer.—Yours truly in the Lord,
ANDREW
A. BONAR.
COLLACE, Friday Evening.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—... I was trying to
stand beside Paul last Sabbath and hear him cry, 'O wretched man,' etc. His
abhorrence of his remainder of sin arose from his unclouded assurance that his
God so loved him —and how intense was his abhorrence! What a cry at the
sight of remaining selfishness—at the discovery that he, a pardoned soul,
should still be self-willed, slow to believe. God is heaping on me His favour
and making me bask in His sweetest beams and yet I am self-pleasing,
self-seeking, etc., 'O wretched man!' Never despond, dear brother, and
never tell your people that you despond, so long as He who gave your commission
the bideth the same. O blessed certainty! my God loves me with all His heart,
and has sent me to show others way to the same bliss. And, blessed hope, 'it
doth not yet appear what we shall be,' etc.—Yours in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
COLLACE, Augst. 16th, 1852.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—I trust your little boy
is to be spared, and that the Lord is only teaching you that he is a gift in
the hands of the Preserver of men. 'He careth for you' must be in your thoughts
continually under your long-continued anxieties. 'He careth for you!' and these
repeated threatenings of separation are proofs of His care. 'He careth for
you,' and so He will not let you alone without uncertainty being in your cup of
comfort, since that ingredient is needful to its efficacy. But 'He careth for
you,' brother, in every way, and so for your little boy as part of you, and as
acknowledged such in the hour of his baptism. . . .
How ingenious is Satan
in devising schemes for withdrawing us from prayer, and from steadily setting
forth Christ the Lord as the life of our every duty, and every sermon. Pray for
me, brother, that I may daily, at least, touch the hem of His garment, for, 'as
many as touched Him were made whole.' —Yours truly in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
When will
you keep yourself disengaged to have time to pray with us? . . . Can you afford
to want (do without) united prayer?
COLLACE, F. C. Manse [1852].
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—Our post passes only
once a day, and I have thoughtlessly let the time slip on, so that I fear this
may not reach you before Sabbath. I have been enabled to pray for you more than
once with some freedom since I heard of your stroke, which is perhaps the best
of all ways of offering you help and bringing you comfort. It may draw forth
for you the sympathy of the Lord Jesus. Twice to-day has this verse met me in
opening the Word for personal reading, 'He hath done all things well.' Nothing
has happened to you accidentally. He has done it all, as truly as we can
say of Him in creation, 'Without Him was not any thing made that was made.' He
has done this thing— He has called home your little boy, 'Come up hither!'
Has He not done well in doing this? Your blood-sprinkled heart owns that He has
done well, in spite of nature, and you could write, I know, unhesitatingly on
his tomb, 'He hath done all things well.' Dear brother, may you get your
will sunk in His—may you find your loss supplied by the full Presence of
Him who has given you Himself as your portion. May you grow sick of His love,
which is better than the life of a thousand beloveds. May you feel powerfully
drawn now by three such cords as are fixed round your heart by three departed
ones towards the Resurrection-morning, when you shall see them arise in health,
power, incorruption, beauty, glorious likeness to the Lord. You are at present
walking through one of earth's valleys that are dark with the shadow of death,
but you can sing in its gloom, 'Thou art with me, I am not alone.' Lean your
weary head as well as your heavy-laden conscience on the Mercy-seat, on the
Person of the Giver of rest, as you have taught others to do. The blood, and
the Lord who shed that blood, cannot fail to bring intense relief for this is
the channel down which love flows without impediment, in full current on its
way to you, a sinner and a sorrowful man, holy love, the love of the Holy One
for you, brother! The stream seems to murmur as it flows your way, 'I know thy
sorrows.' 'In Me ye shall have peace.' Hoping to see you very soon, and still
remembering you.—Believe me, yours truly in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
COLLACE, Thursday Evening.
'Sub-pastor Pastoris boni'
MY DEAR
BROTHER,
—Your kind note grieved me. I did not think you were
sunk at present into any depression. Come, fellow-pilgrim, remember how it is
written, 'Strengthen ye the weak hands and confirm the feeble knees.' How will
you hold up others? After all, you are the strongest, if you really are feeling
quite weak and self-emptied. Are you not, on Scripture principles? And your
brother at Collace is certainly anything but strong when he is in too equable a
mood. . . .
Your sermon to us was felt much by all the people— or,
rather, your three sermons. We were all refreshed. The Lord seemed to speak by
you.—In haste, dear brother, yours in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—I heard
you setting off this morning at an untimely hour, and I trust the Lord made you
a 'Barnabas.' But, brother, do remember the following passage: preach on it
next Sabbath, and practise it, Exodus 18:18. . . . Now, may the God of
hospitable Abraham be the God that remembers to you all your kindness to
travellers and strangers who come under the shadow of your roof. Remember me to
Mr. and Mrs. Moody-Stuart whom I love in the truth.—Yours affectionately
in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
Moses was very 'meek' ; hence Exodus 18:24.
N.B.—This also would make a good sermon!
THREE LETTERS TO REV. JOHN MILNE, PERTH, ON HIS RECEIVING A CALL TO GO ABROAD
I
COLLACE, Jan.10th, 1853. Monday Evening.
MY DEAR BROTHER,—It may be that my
affection for you, and the sort of melancholy that is suggested to my mind by
the idea of Perth without you,—it may be that these considerations are
influencing my judgment as unconsciously as your loneliness may have influenced
yours. Be this as it may, you want me to state to you how the matter now looks
to me.
Well, then, my impressions continue to be these:
(1) All plans
originating in a time of despondency are to be suspected, prima facie.
There is so little of faith in low spirits. I find that at the time when the
Spirit separated Paul and Barnabas for a mission, they were vigorous and full
of work— 'ministering and fasting'—publicly and privately, full of
energetic service. And, on the other hand, when Elijah in low spirits goes to
the Desert and then to Horeb, he is sent back again, so that we soon
find him sitting on Carmel once more.
(2) Your thoughts about Calcutta did
not seem to me to amount to a call made upon you by the Spirit. Of course I may
be quite mistaken, I merely say what I feel, so far as knowledge guides me. You
were not bent towards Calcutta, were you, by any great and preponderating sense
of the claims of that field over all others? Was not your feeling rather one of
merely decided admission that the scheme was important beyond doubt? In other
words, you thought you felt uprooted, and you saw you might as well be planted
down in Calcutta as anywhere else, perhaps giving its claims a preference in
the circumstances?
Still, was there a drawing—is there at this moment
a drawing such as you might from its peculiar strength and tenacity interpret
to be the result of the Spirit calling you with a Macedonian cry?
The brethren with whom I met to-day prayed for you, asking 'counsel' that you
might not mistake, and 'might,' that you may execute what you see to be the
Lord's will. Perhaps, on the whole, they were more ready than I to admit the
probability that our Master may have made use of your very loneliness for
shutting your eye on the home field, and opening it on the vast fields of
India, for no one felt otherwise than that Calcutta, and all connected with it,
is of very peculiar and very vast importance, and that were you there, you
might be a most suitable instrument for the work there. Dear brother, you are
prayed for. May the Lord get all the glory in the end.—Yours truly in the
Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
Whatever be the result I can say of you as Paul could, Phil.1:7: echo en te
kardia umas. 'I have you in my heart,' and will feel if you go that I am
more a pilgrim than before, waiting for our 'gathering together in Him.'
II
COLLACE, Wednesday.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
— 'Be strong, yea, be
strong.' Touch the hem of His garment now again, and draw out virtue for this
present trial of thy spirit, O man of God. Will you let me know how things look
to you now? You are often remembered, and the God who so graciously sat in the
Cloudy Pillar, unasked and uninvited, to guide His Israel then, will, beyond
doubt, guide His own (and guide His Moses and Aaron) when daily besought to do
so.
Have you tokens of the Master's presence? What has He given you of
sympathy and of His peace? Dear brother, dearer always the oftener the idea of
separation comes in, may you find that Christ 'has need of you,' whatever be
the place and scene of labour. Is the whole matter to come on next Wednesday at
the Presbytery ?—Believe me, ever yours truly in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
III
COLLACE, April 6th,
1853.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—Is this the
last note I am to address to you at Perth? You do not know how lonely I
sometimes imagine myself likely to feel when you are gone. Perth will seem like
what Dundee has long been to me—somehow an empty hall. Once this region
was a very pleasant one, in the days of Hamilton, Manson, Miller, Cormick,
Cumming, William Burns, and, above all, Robert M'Cheyne. You and Macdonald are
the only palm-trees still remaining. And as for Robert Macdonald, he is in a
manner out from among us this good while past. And you, brother, are now on the
eve of departure, leaving one solitary member of that once happy brotherhood
behind. I think I shall be more of a pilgrim than I ever was—a Gershom. If
the Master enables me to sing 'All my springs are in Thee,' the pilgrimage will
be a peaceful one nevertheless, and will end in the Kingdom, and 'our gathering
together in Him.' Here is a journeying text for you, 1 Thess.3:11: 'Now God
Himself, even our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ, direct your way!' What a
Pillar-Cloud to lead you to the City of Palaces, and then onward to the
'City of the Great King.' —Believe me, dear brother, your
affectionate brother in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
GLASGOW, 8th Oct. 1858.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—Are we never to hear anything
of you? You wrote oftener in India than you do now. Were your letters then the
luxuriant growth of Eastern soil? And has the north nipped the vegetation of
your pen? Brother, this will not do,— iron sharpens iron, —you must
let us hear how it fares with you.
I was greatly struck with the news of
the death of David Sandeman. How soon at rest! We would have thought that that
strong-built frame would have stood many shocks of disease, and that his Master
would have kept His servant for many years of labour. His single-mindedness,
and zeal, and love to the Lord Jesus often struck me with a sort of impression
approaching to undesigned upbraiding, that is, I felt rebuked by his warmer
devotedness. And so happy always in his Lord. 'Rejoice evermore' was on his
face wherever you met him. Do you know that he was much blessed at Hillhead,
near this place? The people talk of him and Mr. Allan as men of God who carried
on a great work here. And is it not remarkable that these two died within six
weeks of each other? ... Why are we spared?
Are not the showers of the
Spirit in America indications of the Lord hastening the gathering in of sheaves
before the winter? We may expect the like in Scotland 'ere the great and
notable day of the Lord come.' . . Yours in the Lord Jesus,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
GLASGOW, 27th Feby. 1864.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—Your little epistle a
few days since was very pleasant,—like a gentle shower in the heat of
summer,—telling the thoughts of your brotherly heart as well as the
wanderings of your feet. . . . We get occasionally at present some tokens of
the Master's favour, though we often pray, 'When the poor and needy. . . .
their tongue faileth for thirst.' In so dry a land nothing but heavy,
heavy showers will take thirst away.
We lost the other day Mr. William
Munsie, a true Caleb, one that always brought up a good report of the Land. How
many of late are gone to the 'mountain of myrrh.' James Crawford was no
ordinary loss. John Bonar, too, is a great blank in our circle. Everything bids
us 'hasten unto the coming of the Day of God.'
'The foundation of God
standeth sure.' The Word is as sweet as ever, is it not, and Christ still the
chief among ten thousand? Have you still a place for me in your Saturday
evening prayer for brethren? Remember this is our rule. 'So much the more as ye
see the day approaching.'
Give my kindest brotherly love to Mrs.
Milne.—Yours truly in the Lord,
ANDREW A.
BONAR.
GLASGOW, 7th Febry. 1865.
MY DEAR BROTHER,—Thanks for to-day's token of
remembrance. . . . Your brief stay with us was very cheering and useful. Many
of your words are lingering in many memories and hearts.
Our house is not
what it was—at least to me—but the Lord is the same. O that I may be
able to use Him as the true and only Lethe, in drinking of which I shall forget
what I have lost. Brother, pray still for me, and sister Barbara, pray too. Not
a day has closed since 14th October during which my heart has not felt its sore
want. But I hear Him reminding me, 'Behold, I come quickly!'
Now I must
run away to my class. 'Weeping must not hinder sowing,' said Matthew
Henry.—Yours truly in the Lord,
ANDREW A.
BONAR.
GLASGOW, 20th Oct. 1866.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
—I read your letter last
night with a kind of awe, as being the writing of one who had been almost
within the veil. You have seen and felt what others of us are strangers to. But
do you know one thing, I have of late noticed that there may be a good reason
alleged for even desiring to die! What is it? It is this. If (as you
once thought you might) a brother outstrip us ('pre-vent' ) in getting
to the sepulchre, he shall also outstrip us ('pre-vent,' 1 Thess. 4:15,
phtano) in rising again from the dead. For 'the dead in Christ shall
rise first' ; they first shall hear His voice, or at any rate they shall be the
first to put on the resurrection-body. Is it not so? Yet, after all, 'the
twinkling of an eye' may make all the difference, and 'then we who are alive
and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall be caught up along with them.' You
see they do get a sort of pre-eminence, as if to make up for their having been
called away ere the Lord arrived.
I do give thanks with you and with Mrs.
Milne, and with many everywhere for the Lord's mercy to you. This is our
Communion week. Is it yours also? I think it is. Then let us get all the more
the help of your sympathies and prayers. 'Joshua redivivus' must not fight
Amalek at present, but lie still and pray for the fighters. . .—Yours
truly in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.
Transcribed from Reminiscences of Andrew A.Bonar D.D.
first published
LONDON, HODDER AND STOUGHTON,
27 Paternoster
Row
1895
HTML transcription files copyright © 2001-2006.
Jane Newble
July 2001