CHAPTER VII.Holy Women.

“She stands, indeed, so connected with almost all which was good in the last century, that the character of the age, so far as religion is concerned, was in some measure her own. It is not insinuated that she alone impressed that character on the Church, but that she entirely sympathised with it, and was not a whit behind the foremost in affection for souls and zeal for God, in spirituality of mind and fervour of devotion, in contrivance and energy for the extension of the gospel, in a large and disinterested soul.”

J. K. Foster.

RELIGION NOT A THING OF SEX.

Christianity breathes a spirit of the most diffusive charity and goodwill; and wherever its power is felt, it moulds the character into the image of benevolence. The great principles of the religion of Jesus secure to woman, as an unquestionable right, that elevation and high position in society, which His conduct and that of His followers conferred. Immorality trembles, domestic tyranny retires abashed, before the majesty of religion, and peace pervades that dwelling where power was law and woman a slave. The gospel belongs to neither sex, but to both. It wears no party badge, but as by a zone of love, elastic enough to bestretched round the globe, seeks to bind the whole race together. The most effectual method of degrading woman is to barbarize man, and the surest means of dignifying her is to Christianize him. A council in the fifth century, we believe, discussed the question whether woman was included in the redemption; but it is now only, we think, among the Jews of Tunis that any such belief is maintained. Happily, too, we are past the time when good old Coverdale, the celebrated translator of the Bible, could write with some kind of real or affected surprise, “He maketh even women to be declarers of His resurrection!” It is now a matter of extreme surprise that the half of the human race should at any time, in civilized lands, have had their share in Christ’s atonement for the world disputed.

BIOGRAPHY.

Lady Selina Shirley, the second daughter of Washington Shirley, was born at Stanton Harold, long the seat of the Shirley family, on the 24th August, 1707. The mansion was situated in a fine park of one hundred and fifty acres, well wooded, and diversified by hill and dale. It stood near the ancient town of Ashby-de-la-Zouch. The grounds were laid out with great taste, and a spacious lake of ornamental water reflected a handsome stone bridge, which was thrown across it. She inherited the talents and benevolent disposition of her father, and from a very early age sought Divine direction in all that she did. When only nine years old, she saw a corpse about her own age carried to its last resting place. She followed itto the grave, and with many tears cried earnestly to God on the spot, that whenever He should be pleased to take her away, He would deliver her from all fears, and give her a happy departure. She often afterwards visited the grave, and always preserved a lively sense of the affecting scene.

She received an education which successfully drew out the talents of her mind, the disposition of her heart, and the graceful deportment of her manners. Her acquirements were much beyond the ordinary standard of the age in which she lived. When she grew up, and was introduced into the world, and made her appearance at court, she manifested no inclination to follow the example of her companions in the gaieties of fashionable life. The habitual realization of Divine things preserved her amid scenes of great danger.

Lady Selina Shirley often prayed that she might marry into a serious family, and on June 3rd, 1728, she was united in matrimony to Theophilus, the ninth Earl of Huntingdon. None kept up more the ancient dignity and heraldic glory than the house of Huntingdon; but the strict decorum and outward propriety which she observed were far more grateful to her than riches or renown. Mary Queen of Scots was for some time confided to the keeping of the Earl of Huntingdon; and King James the First and his consort were often visitors at the famous castle of Ashby. Lady Huntingdon maintained, in this high estate, a peculiar seriousness of conduct. Though sometimes at court, she took no pleasure in the fashionable follies of the great. At Donnington Park she was known as theLady Bountifulby her neighboursand dependants. Often might she have been seen standing over the sick and dying, administering to their temporal wants, and reading the Scriptures to them.

Her heart was now truly engaged to God, so she laid her coronet at the Redeemer’s feet, and resolved, according to her ability, to lay herself out to do good. In 1738, when John and Charles Wesley preached in the neighbourhood of Donnington Park, she sent a kind message to them, acknowledging that she was one at heart with them, bidding them good speed in the name of the Lord, and assuring them of her determination to live for Him who had died for her. The oratory of the Methodists was fervid and powerful; and the spiritual fire which glowed within, animated their discourses, and attracted many to the standard of the cross. The number of ordained ministers was insufficient to meet the demands for their services. But a new agency was now springing up: holy and gifted laymen began to preach, and their labours were crowned with greater success than those of the most illustrious men sent from colleges and universities. It should never be forgotten that we owe all the blessings which the world has received from lay preachers chiefly to the good sense and spiritual discernment of Lady Huntingdon.

In the summer of 1743, the Earl and Countess of Huntingdon, with the Ladies Hastings, visited Yorkshire, where the work of the Lord was making great progress. Soon after her return she was called upon to endure severe domestic trials. Two of her beloved sons died within a short period of each other, one aged thirteen, and the other aged ten years. In April,1746, Lady Huntingdon was attacked by a serious illness; but by the skill of her medical attendants, and the blessing of God, she was restored to health and strength. Scarcely had she recovered from the loss of her children, and her own illness, before she was bereaved of her husband, Lord Huntingdon, who died at his house in Downing Street, Westminster, October 13th, 1746. But these and subsequent personal and family afflictions only awakened her mind toward religious concernments, and caused her to be more energetic in the diffusion of Christian principles. Lord Huntingdon left his widow in uncontrolled command of an income amply sufficient for maintaining her position, with her surviving children, in the style which befitted her rank; but confining her expenditure within narrow limits, she regarded her fortune as a trust which it was her happiness to administer in furtherance of the highest purposes.

Lady Huntingdon now became the open and avowed patroness of all the zealous ministers of Christ, especially of those who were suffering for the testimony of Jesus. In the spring of 1758 she threw open her house in London for the preaching of the gospel. Many of the distinguished nobility attended the services; among whom were the Duchess of Bedford, Grafton, Hamilton, and Richmond; Lords Weymouth, Tavistock, Trafford, Northampton, Lyttleton, Dacre, and Hertford; Ladies Dacre, Jane Scott, Anne Cronnolly, Elizabeth Kepple, Coventry, Hertford, Northumberland, etc., etc. She was far in advance of her times in catholicity of spirit and liberality of sentiment, and frequently stimulated the great leaders of Methodism to extend their operations,when they were inclined to restrict them to certain modes of action. She loved all who loved the Lord Jesus Christ, and formed an acquaintance with many pious and distinguished Dissenters.

Hitherto, her Ladyship had confined her exertions to England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales; but in 1772, in consequence of becoming proprietrix of possessions in the province of Georgia, she organized a mission to North America. On the 27th of October, the missionaries embarked, and after a passage of only six weeks, reached the place of their destination, without having experienced one day of real bad weather. Their labours were crowned with singular success.

Her labours increased with her years. She saw the spiritual darkness which was overclouding the people; was thoroughly acquainted with the character of the agency already in existence, and knew how insufficient it was to reach the mass of the people. But instead of being honoured for endeavouring to bring the sound of the gospel within the hearing of the people, her labours were denounced as irregular, and her name was blackened with reproach. Towards the close of 1781, her mind was greatly distressed by unpleasant differences which sprang up in her congregation at Reading. Still it was evident that God was blessing her labours, that the fields were white unto the harvest. The Countess, therefore, determined to appoint four of her most distinguished clergymen to itinerate through England, and blow the gospel trumpet. Many were converted to the Lord, and small congregations were gathered, which grew into important churches.

It had always been the earnest desire of Lady Huntingdon that neither she nor her Connection should sever the tie that bound them to the Church of England. But in consequence of processes instituted in the Ecclesiastical Courts, and the law laid down on the subject, no alternative was left them. Accordingly, in 1783, they reluctantly assumed the position of Dissenters, at the same time retaining the liturgy with some modifications, the forms and even the vestments of the Church of England, without its Episcopacy. A confession of faith was drawn up, and a declaration was set forth, that “some things in the liturgy, and many things in the discipline and government of the Established Church, being contrary to Holy Scripture, they have felt it necessary to secede.” Hitherto the great burden of conducting the affairs of her Connection had mainly devolved upon the Countess herself; but now feeling the infirmities of age, she bequeathed by her will, dated January 11th, 1790, all her churches and residences to trustees. Her family confirmed this disposition of her property, and the trustees strictly carried out the intentions of the testatrix.

Now, almost at the close of her long and arduous course, the venerable Countess truly experienced the blessedness of those who die in the Lord, and whose works do follow them. Sometimes she appeared to catch a glimpse of the celestial mansions, and then her weather-beaten features were lighted up with a heavenly glory. The bursting of a blood-vessel was the commencement of her last illness. She manifested the greatest patience and resignation, and said to Lady Ann Erskine, “All the little ruffles and difficultieswhich surrounded me, and all the pains I am exercised with in this poor body, through mercy affect not the settled peace and joy of my soul.” On the 12th of June, 1791, a change passed over the Countess which afforded apprehensions of approaching death. A little before she died, she frequently said, “I shall go to my Father to-night;” and musingly repeated, “Can He forget to be gracious? Is there any end of His loving-kindness?” Her physician visited her, and shortly after her strength failed, and she appeared to sink into a sleep. A friend took her hand, it was cold and clammy; he felt her pulse, it was ceasing to beat; and as he leaned over her, she breathed her last and fell asleep in Jesus. She died at her house in Spa Fields, June 17th, 1791, in the eighty-fourth year of her age.

The news of her decease plunged the Christian world into grief and sadness. She was interred in the family vault at Ashby-de-la-Zouch. Her principal places of worship were hung in black; and not only her own ministers, but many in the Establishment and among the nonconformists, preached a funeral sermon to testify to her worth. Many tears were shed at the mention of her name; a medal was struck off as a memento of her death; and her well-known features were embalmed in the hearts of her people.

CONVERSION.

According to some, only the scum and offscourings of society need to be born again. We believe that the purest, gentlest, loveliest, must undergo this change before they enter the kingdom of God. It isa radical reform, great in its character and lasting in its consequences. Lady Huntingdon’s outward conduct was always blameless, and she had moreover a zeal of God, yet for many years she was an utter stranger to the spiritual nature of the gospel of Christ. She saw not the depravity of the human heart; she knew nothing of salvation by faith in Jesus Christ, and of the regenerating power of the Holy Spirit. She entertained high opinions respecting the dignity of human nature; and aspired to reach, by her own works, the lofty standard she had placed before her. Liberal in her sentiments, prudent in her conduct, courteous in her deportment, and profuse in her charities, she surpassed her equals by birth, and the multitudes around her. But the Countess was far from enjoying the happiness which she anticipated would result from her endeavours to recommend herself to the favour of Heaven. Her sister-in-law Lady Margaret Hastings had been awakened to see the value of religious truth, and often conversed with her respecting the concerns of her soul. Her experience formed a contrast to the state of Lady Huntingdon’s mind. A severe illness soon laid the Countess low, and brought her to the confines of the grave. She looked back to her past life, but the piety, virtue, and morality in which she had trusted, appeared to be tainted with sin. The report of the earnest preaching of certain clergymen, who were called Methodists, reached Donnington Park; the truth impressed some members of the Hastings family; and through them Lady Huntingdon was directed to the truth as it is in Jesus, and obtained lasting peace. The change in her heart exerted a beneficial influence on her body;her disorder took a favourable turn; she was restored to perfect health; and she solemnly dedicated herself to God as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to the Lord.

THE HIGHER CHRISTIAN LIFE.

Full salvation through full trust in Jesus is at once the provision and the demand of the gospel, and is, of course, the privilege and duty of all. But the truth that the Lord Jesus is the righteousness of the believer, in the sense of sanctification as well as in the sense of justification, many are slow to perceive. Yet Scripture and the lives of the great and good abundantly prove, that in both senses Christ is complete to the believer, and in both, the believer is complete in Christ. The Countess of Huntingdon is a true and noble type of the real, whole-souled Christian. Religion took a strong hold upon her inner nature, and her apprehension of Christ in His fulness was so clear, that she was filled with heavenly consolations. The language of her heart, as well as of her lips, was beautifully expressed by her friend Dr. Watts:—

“Were the whole realm of nature mine,That were a present far too small;Love so amazing, so divine,Demands my soul, my life, my all!”

“Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all!”

The fashionable circle in which she moved was astonished; and unable to comprehend the spiritual darkness through which she had passed, and the spiritual light she now enjoyed, ridiculed her as a fanatic. Some nobles even wished Lord Huntingdon to interpose his authority; but he refused to interferewith her religious opinions. Dr. Southey, unblushingly asserted that the religious feelings of Lady Huntingdon originated in a decided insanity in her family; and adds that all the arguments of Bishop Benson failed in bringing her to a more rational sense of devotion. “Such a statement,” remarks her latest biographer, “would not have deserved notice, were it not that the talents and reputation of the poet laureate might be regarded by many as a guarantee for its validity.” When the rupture took place between the Prince of Wales and his father, George II., and the Prince set up his own court at Kew, Lady Huntingdon attended it occasionally; but her frequent absence was noticed, and provoked sarcasm. One day the Prince of Wales inquired of Lady Charlotte Edwin where Lady Huntingdon was that she so seldom visited the circle. Lady Charlotte replied with a sneer, “I suppose praying with her beggars.” The Prince shook his head, and, turning to her Ladyship, said, “Lady Charlotte, when I am dying, I think I shall be happy to seize the skirt of Lady Huntingdon’s mantle, to lift me up with her to heaven.”

HER CHAPLAINS.

The religious sentiments and the glowing eloquence of the most remarkable evangelist of modern times soon attracted the attention of the Countess of Huntingdon, and, in 1748, she made George Whitefield one of her chaplains. She then, and for many years afterwards, thought that, as a peeress of the realm, she had a right to employ the clergymen of the Church whom she had appointed as her chaplains in openlyproclaiming the everlasting gospel. Whitefield often preached in the drawing-rooms of the Countess to large numbers of the most highly distinguished nobility. Gifted by nature in an unusual degree as a public speaker, her chaplain, despite the vilest aspersions, spoke as one who had received a commission from on high to proclaim the unsearchable riches of Christ; and this mission he fulfilled with unabated ardour and success for nearly forty years. In the New World as well as the Old, Whitefield had his trophies, and was listened to with great delight by the princes of intellect and the beggars in understanding. If souls would hear the gospel only under a ceiled roof, he preached it there. If only in a church or a field, he proclaimed it there. In temples made with hands, the parliament of letters, of fashion, of theology, of statesmanship,—such men as Hume, Walpole, Johnson, Goldsmith, Reynolds, Garrick, Warburton, and Chesterfield, acknowledged the power of the preacher. On Moorfields, Kennington Common, and Blackheath, vast crowds were powerfully impressed, and cried out for salvation. He preached at Kingswood, and the miners came out of their coal-pits in swarms—thousands on thousands flocked from Bristol, till about twenty or thirty thousand persons were present. The singing could be heard for two miles off, and the clear, rich, and powerful voice of Whitefield could be distinctly heard for about a mile. This is his own world; he loves, he says, to “mount his field throne.” These colliers are as ignorant of religion as the inhabitants of negro-land—as hardened as the islanders of Madagascar—without feeling or education, profligate, abandoned, ferocious. He addressesthem, and what is the result? Tears flow from eyes which perhaps never shed them before. Those white streaks which contrast so strongly with the dark ground on which they are interlined, tell of the emotion that is going on within. This celebrated preacher, in his letters speaks of Lady Huntingdon in very flattering terms. He says, “She shines brighter and brighter every day, and will yet I trust be spared for a nursing mother to our Israel.”

A few years afterwards, the Countess took under her protection William Romaine, by appointing him one of her chaplains. He had for a long time occupied an important position in London, where he published several popular treatises, and a great number of separate discourses. But the preaching of the gospel was his enthusiastic work, and the Calvinistic aspects of truth were put and kept in uniform prominence by him. He was a man of fervent piety,—and to shelter him from persecution, Lady Huntingdon secured his services to preach to the nobility in her drawing-rooms, the poor in her kitchen, and to all classes in her various places of worship.

About 1764, she added to the number of her chaplains the Hon. and Rev. Walter Shirley, rector of Loughrea, in Ireland. His connexion with her ladyship raised a violent storm of persecution against him in his own county. But his heart was too deeply impressed with the truth to allow his tongue to be silent. He became a warm and devoted labourer in the various churches erected by the Countess. Thomas Haweis, LL.B., was also chaplain to the Countess. Mr. Haweis took a prominent part in the formation of the London Missionary Society, published manysermons, a commentary on the Bible, and other works. He was a man of great zeal and piety, and highly respected.

THE FOUNDRESS OF A RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY.

At the time when the two leaders of Methodism, Wesley and Whitefield, took adverse positions on points of theology—the former, zealous for what was termed the Arminian; the latter, for the Calvinistic, mode of holding and proclaiming the one Christian truth, which gives all glory to God, and leaves human responsibility unimpugned; Lady Huntingdon warmly professed her approval of Calvinistic doctrine, and gave the whole of her influence to that side of Methodism. Whitefield conscious of his want of ability to govern a community, wisely abstained from the attempt to found a denomination, and gave his powerful aid to his noble patroness in her wide-spread endeavours to maintain and spread Calvinistic Methodism. It was in this way that her ladyship became the head of what was termed “the Countess of Huntingdon’s Connexion.” This costly movement included the erection of many spacious churches, the support of ministers, and the founding and endowing of a college at Trevecca, in Wales, for the education of young men, who were left at liberty, when their studies were completed, to serve in the ministry of the gospel either in the Countess’s Connexion, in the Established Church, or in any other of the Churches of Christ. In 1792, the college was removed from Trevecca to Cheshunt, where it still exists in a stateof efficiency and usefulness. Her pecuniary resources were not large, yet she devoted upwards of £100,000 towards the spread of evangelical religion. Although the term “Connexion” is still applied to the body, they do not exist in the form of a federal ecclesiastical union. The congregational form of Church government is practically in operation among them, and several of the congregations have joined that communion.

CHARACTER OF THE COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON.

She was not what is usually termed beautiful, yet there was a grace and sweetness about her features which fully compensated for more perishable charms. Her figure was noble and commanding; her eyes were large and lustrous; her nose slightly acquiline; her lips well-formed and expressive; her forehead bold and intellectual. Her head-dress was plain and quite unfashionable; her bonnet unpretending; and her gown invariably black silk.

Lady Huntingdon possessed great natural talents. This is vouched for, not so much by her letters as by her actual administrative performances, by what she did in governing so long a large association, and in directing and controlling the minds of many educated clergy and uneducated lay-preachers. The leading and most noted public men, such as Chesterfield, Bolingbroke, and several of the bishops, listened with enthusiasm to her conversation. The celebrated ladies who ruled the court, and drew the flower of the nobility to their feet, were powerfully influenced byher Ladyship. Her conversational powers were remarkable. There was scarcely a subject on which she could not talk with freedom.

The Countess sympathised with human misery in all its forms, and to the utmost of her ability relieved it. Her nature was exceedingly generous. One of her ministers once called on her Ladyship with a wealthy person from the country. When they left, he exclaimed, “What a lesson! Can a person of her noble birth, nursed in the lap of grandeur, live in such a house, so meanly furnished; and shall I, a tradesman, be surrounded with luxury and elegance! From this moment, I shall hate my house, my furniture, and myself, for spending so little for God and so much in folly.” Religion with her was not a creed, nor an ecclesiastical position, but a living power. She admired consistency, and exemplified it in her life. It must not be supposed that she was perfect. She had her frailties, which she was aware of, and mourned over. But her private virtues and her public acts have ranked her among the most illustrious reformers of the Christian Church.

SECTION II.—ELIZABETH, DUCHESS OF GORDON.

“The Church of Christ has often been indebted to ladies in high station whose hearts the Lord touched, who devoted themselves with singular ardour to the extension of His kingdom; using the graciousness of their rank and breeding to strengthen His ministers, and win favour for His holy cause; and who in so doing had a peculiar heavy cross of self-denial and reproach to bear. Had we lived in days when the gracious dead were canonized, and supposed to be helpful in heaven as they had been on earth, we should doubtless have had a Scottish Saint Elizabeth, in the last Duchess of Gordon.”

Andrew Crichton.

RELIGION IN HIGH LIFE.

Christians have generally sprung from humble life. We love to see piety anywhere; but the histories of those who have come from the ranks always lay deepest hold of the Christian mind. When the poor woman in the almshouse takes her bread and her water, and blesses God for both; when the homeless wanderer, who has not where to lay her head, lifts her eye and says, “My Father will provide,” it is like the glow-worm in the dark, leaving a spark the more conspicuous because of the blackness around it. The evangelization of the poor is a sure sign of Christ’s gospel. But let us rejoice, that though it hath been hitherto, we are afraid, incontestably the rule, that not many of the wise, mighty, and noble have been called, yet there have been many splendid exceptions. There have always been some Christians of noble birth and rank and wealth. Not only is the gospeltranslatable into every tongue, and suitable to all the varying phases of human intellect; but it can descend to the lowliest cottages, and rise to the most gorgeous palaces and gild their very pinnacles with celestial light. Philosophy has wept at the recital of the story of the Cross; wealth has offered its houses for the Saviour who had for His home the cold mountain wet with the evening dew; science has cast her brightest crowns at the bleeding feet of Emmanuel; and art has entreated the rejected Redeemer to call her most fashionable temples His own. We could produce a long catalogue of illustrious names to prove that religion can command the homage of genius, taste, and rank. The religion of Jesus is not the monopoly of the poor; it is designed for those who are surrounded with objects which flatter their vanity, which minister to their pride, and which throw them into the circle of alluring and tempting pleasures. It places all on the same level in regard to salvation. There is no royal road to heaven. All are saved in the same way. In our own times there are not wanting some who have laid rank and wealth on the altar of God.

BIOGRAPHY.

Elizabeth Brodie, was born in London, on the 20th of June, 1794. There had been Brodies of Brodie for many generations. The most noted of her ancestors was her grandfather Alexander, commonly called Lord Brodie, who lived in the days of the Covenant, and was one of the judges of the Court of Session. Her father was Alexander Brodie; whohaving acquired a large fortune in India, returned home, purchased the estates of Arnhall and the Burn, in Kincardineshire, and became member of parliament for Elgin. Her grandmother was Lady Betty Wemyss, one of the Sutherland family; and her mother was Miss Elizabeth Wemyss, of Wemyss Castle, a grand-daughter of the Earl of Wemyss. Her progenitors were not only illustrious, but virtuous. Grace is not of blood, but of God; yet in the heritage which the righteous leave to their children, a moral resemblance may often be traced even through intervening generations.

The first six years of her life were spent at Leslie House, in Fifeshire, and were rendered memorable by the death of her mother. In what she called “her mother’s box,” were found reminiscences of that parent and of her own infant days. She stayed for some time with her maiden aunts at Elgin, which she always regarded with affection as the home of her early years. At the age of eight she was sent to a boarding-school in London. Here she had, with immense difficulty, to unlearn her native Scotch, and acquire a command of English words and English pronunciation. Her education was thorough in all the ordinary branches, and she was imbued with a taste for intellectual and scientific pursuits. Before seventeen, Miss Brodie came out into society at the Fife Hunt, in Cupar, with her cousin, the beautiful Miss Wemyss, afterwards Countess of Rosslyn.

In the reign of the first Charles, Lord Lewis Gordon, afterwards Marquis of Huntly, rushed over the possessions of the gentle Lord Brodie, burnt his mansion and laid waste his lands. But in the timesof the third George, another Marquis of Huntly came to Brodie on a different errand. The Rev. A. Moody Stuart pleasantly says, “Unlike his wayward ancestor, he ran no warlike raid through the plains of Moray, and brought back no forceful prey to adorn his castle at Huntly. But the gallant soldier made a better conquest. In the ever strange circling of events he sought and won the hand of the young and beautiful Elizabeth Brodie, and conducted his bride with festive rejoicings to his home in Strathbogie. There she shone a far nobler treasure than the spoil of her father’s house; for in due time she was called to inherit the untold riches of that Father’s grace, and so to shed a brighter lustre on the coronet of Gordon than it had ever worn before, illuminating it with a heavenly radiance ere it was buried in her tomb.” At the age of nineteen, the Marquis of Huntly was Miss Brodie’s accepted suitor, and on the 11th of December, 1813, they were married at Bath. Her husband, as colonel of the 92nd, or Gordon Highlanders, had seen hard service, and could show his wounds. They had one great trial in common to bear: their childless wedlock sealed the fate of the house of Gordon. After their marriage they went abroad. On the 16th of June, 1815, they drew near Brussels, ignorant of what was happening in the immediate neighbourhood. The Duchess of Richmond had given her famous ball, and now all was confusion and dismay. Troubled minds were set at rest by the British squares at Waterloo.

The Marchioness of Huntly spent the first few years of her married life, in much the same way as ladies of her rank generally do. She drank freely of thepleasures of the world, and God was not in all her thoughts. In the autumn of 1815, she returned to Scotland, and Lord Huntly determined to give her a festive reception on her coming home to Strathbogie; and because the winter was not suitable, he deferred it till her birthday in June. The place of meeting was the castle park; the people danced on the greensward, and Lady Huntly distributed small silver coins to the children with that large-hearted love for the young so remarkable in her after career. She took still greater pleasure in a festive tour which followed a few years after. On this occasion the spirit of the old highland clanship was revived; fiery crosses blazed from hill to hill; and Lady Huntly passed in true Celtic style over the Gordon estates, receiving the homage of her vassals. In 1819, Lord Huntly resolved to give a highland welcome worthy of his rank, to Prince Leopold, at the beautiful lodge of Kinrara. With the ardent loyalty of the highlands, the clansmen held themselves ready to honour their own chief and to welcome his royal guest. With his highland bonnet, and kilted in the dark tartan of his clan, Huntly invited the prince to ascend the hill of Tor Alvie, which commanded a fine view of the lofty mountains, and the noble Spey. There they found the marchioness and her party waiting to receive them. But the tartaned highlanders were nowhere to be seen. Their chieftain stood with eagle plume:—

“But they with mantles folded roundWere crouched to rest upon the ground,Scarce to be known by curious eyeFrom the deep heather where they lie;So well was matched the tartan screenWith heath-bell dark, and brackens green.The mountaineer then whistled shrill,And he was answered from the hill;Instant through copse and heath aroseBonnets and spears and bended bows.And every tuft of broom gave lifeTo plaided warrior armed for strife;Watching their leader’s beck and will,All silent there they stood, and still.Short space he stood, then raised his handTo his brave clansmen’s eager band;ThenShoutofWelcome, shrill and wide,Shook the steep mountain’s steady side.Thrice it arose, and brake and fellThree times gave back the martial yell.”

“But they with mantles folded round

Were crouched to rest upon the ground,

Scarce to be known by curious eye

From the deep heather where they lie;

So well was matched the tartan screen

With heath-bell dark, and brackens green.

The mountaineer then whistled shrill,

And he was answered from the hill;

Instant through copse and heath arose

Bonnets and spears and bended bows.

And every tuft of broom gave life

To plaided warrior armed for strife;

Watching their leader’s beck and will,

All silent there they stood, and still.

Short space he stood, then raised his hand

To his brave clansmen’s eager band;

ThenShoutofWelcome, shrill and wide,

Shook the steep mountain’s steady side.

Thrice it arose, and brake and fell

Three times gave back the martial yell.”

“Ah,” exclaimed the Prince, surprised and delighted, “we’ve got Roderick Dhu here!”

In the summer of 1827, the old Duke died, and the Marquis and Marchioness of Huntly became the Duke and Duchess of Gordon. The hereditary influence of the Gordon family in other days was scarcely less than regal in the north of Scotland; and even at the time to which we refer, retained a strong element of clanship added to that of wealth and rank. Amidst the enthusiastic rejoicings of the numerous tenantry, the Duke and Duchess took possession of the noble castle. It had been called a “castle of felicity,” and nothing was wanting to make it so, if the good things of this life could satisfy the soul. The Duchess had learned how poor earth’s highest joys are in themselves. She therefore identified herself more with the people and cause of Christ. No balls were given at Gordon Castle during the nine years she was its mistress. In May, 1830, William IV. came to thethrone, and his queen, the sainted Adelaide, selected the Duchess of Gordon as Mistress of the Robes at the coronation, and honoured her ever afterwards with her special friendship. This was a strong temptation to return to the world, and become a leader of fashion; but into the court, as into the ducal palace, she carried a simple, fervent exhibition of Christian principle. Most of her time, however, was spent at Gordon Castle, where she presided with queenly grace over the numerous and noble company always sure to be there. All things were ordered according to her own high spiritual ideal.

In May, 1836, George, last Duke of Gordon, was suddenly taken from her side in London. The blow was heavy, but her sorrow was assuaged by the assurance that he slept in Jesus. So little was his death expected, that the Duchess had turned an ugly quarry into a beautiful garden, and was looking forward to the pleasure of driving her invalid husband thither, and winning a smile from his sick and weary face. But alas! he was carried past her blooming paradise in his coffin.

The first year of the Duchess’ widowhood was spent on the Continent; after which she returned to Huntly Lodge, where she had spent her married youth. It now became a serious question how far she should continue to maintain the style and living of a Duchess. To have lived on a thousand a year instead of ten thousand would have saved her from many temptations, and spared her much money for the Church’s treasury. But having been numbered by the Lord in the rank of the “not many noble” that are called, she decided to abide therein with God. We thinkshe was right. The light that shines through the cottage window will cheer and guide the lonely wanderer who happens to come within its narrow range; but the lamp on the lighthouse is seen far and wide, and directs thousands to the sheltering harbour.

The Scotch are a devout and fervent people. But in some localities the inhabitants were religious only in name. Strathbogie was chequered by bright lights and dark shadows—the latter, alas! by far the more numerous. The ministers preached that it was good to be good, bad to be bad, and wise to eschew fanaticism; and the communicants deemed family worship an excellent thing in the stanzas of the “Cottar’s Saturday Night.” In answer to prayer, mighty apostles visited the dark land. With every movement which seemed to bring life to the spiritually dead district, the Duchess identified herself; and, therefore, although she did not till long afterwards sympathise with the position taken up by the party headed by Dr. Chalmers, she opened her house to him and the other eminent men who came to preach the gospel in Strathbogie.

In 1847, after a severe struggle, she became a member of the Free Church of Scotland; and in August partook of the Lord’s supper for the first time along with the people at Huntly, as a member of their own communion. Chiefly through her instrumentality the popular mind suddenly awoke to the importance of religion; clergymen became deeply fervent, and the morals of a large portion of the people rose at once to the high Christian level. In 1859, a young man who had been long halting between two opinions, was overheard disputing in a byre with an old self-righteous man, and saying, “Na, nathat’ll no do; if ye dinna get Christfirst, ye can do naething.”

The end is soon told. She spent the winter of 1862-3 in London. A conference of ministers was held at Huntly Lodge on the 13th of January, 1864, and another was appointed for the 10th of February; but between those dates the unexpected summons of death arrived. She fell asleep at half-past seven on Sabbath evening, the 31st of January, in her seventieth year.

On the 9th of February her Grace was buried. The spectacle was deeply affecting as the procession passed through Huntly; and in the midst of deep silence, respect, and universal regard, the corpse was carried through Elgin to the vault of the noble Dukes of Gordon. The coffin was placed beside her husband’s, in the only remaining space for the deceased wearers of the ducal coronet and their children. Till the last trumpet shall sound, that tomb shall remain closed on the last and the best of an illustrious race.

NEW LIFE.

In 1821, the Marchioness of Huntly began to feel anxious about her soul. God can break the hardest rock with the feeblest rod, and from the mouth of a babe ordain strength. A highland servant whom the Duchess Jane had left at Kinrara, with all reverence for the chieftain’s lady, ventured to drop a quiet remark which sank into her heart and was never altogether forgotten. Lady Huntly was discovered in the act of reading the Bible by one of the leaders of aristocratic gaiety, and the incident was declared tobe the best joke they had heard of for many a day. They thought, however, that a little clever quizzing would soon make her return to her old ways. But they were mistaken! They called her “Methodist,” and she said within herself, “If for so little I am called a Methodist, let me have something more worthy of the name;” and set herself to read the Bible still more earnestly. In her new course of Bible reading she came to the passage, “If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?” The words arrested her, and from that time she began to pray for the Holy Spirit. In 1822, she accompanied Lord Huntly to Geneva, and there found an enlightened friend in Madame Vernet, whom she afterwards looked upon as her spiritual mother. From Geneva she went to Paris, and, while travelling, read Erskine’s “Internal Evidences,” which she found very profitable to her soul. In Paris she found counsel and help in the house of Lady Olivia Sparrow; and at length, during a visit at Kimbolton Castle, the residence of the Duke of Manchester, she was brought to believe savingly on the Lord Jesus Christ.

DEEPENING OF THE LORD’S WORK.

The commencement of the year 1827 forms an epoch in the spiritual history of Lady Huntly. She and her husband were on the Continent with two nieces, when one of them died suddenly at Naples. The bereavement was keenly felt, but greatly sanctified. About this time she read Leighton on Peter,to which she attributed a great deepening of the work of grace; and she afterwards wrote—“Pray keep Leighton for my sake, for I have a particular value for that copy. I truly rejoice to find that you can read Leighton with pleasure. I know by experience it is a test of the state of the mind.”

When placed in a situation which required the heart to be hot like a furnace, and the lip to be burning like a live coal, she found that grace was proportioned to duty. To the first period of her Christian life she thus refers: “In my own case, I believe that for two years I was a saved sinner, a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, and yet that during all that time I did not see the exceeding sinfulness of sin. I believed in a general way that I was a sinner who deserved the punishment of a righteous God; I believed that whosoever came to Jesus Christ should be saved; but I had no deep sense of sin,—of my sin. Since then, I believe I have passed through almost every phase of Christian experience that I have ever read or heard of; and now I have such a sense of my utter vileness and unworthiness, that I feel that the great and holy God might well set His heel on me, so to speak, and crush me into nothing.” So marked was the growth of grace at this time that she used to talk of it as a second conversion. For several years she had apprehended Christ as her title to heaven; but she now saw that He was also her meetness for heaven, and was filled with peace and joy.

At her departure from Huntly Lodge, to Gordon Castle, she received what we must call a token from God. With some other ladies, she paid a visit to the old castle at Huntly, on the banks of the Deveron,and within the fair demesne which she was to leave for a time. In an ancient hall, with carved escutcheons on its walls, they were attracted by an inscription on a scroll high above them, which neither the Duchess nor her visitors could decipher. They moved on, but she remained gazing at the carved figures. Suddenly the sun burst out from behind a cloud, and she read in the light of its rays these words:

TO . THAES . THAT . LOVE . GOD . AL . THINGIS . VIRKIS .TO . THE . BEST .

TO . THAES . THAT . LOVE . GOD . AL . THINGIS . VIRKIS .

TO . THE . BEST .

It was as if a voice from heaven had spoken. She had gotten a motto for her future life; and ever after, Romans viii. 28, was one of the pillars that upheld the temple of God in her heart—one of the elements that leavened her spiritual life.

OPEN-AIR SERVICES.

On the Saturday before her first communion as a Presbyterian, it was evident that the church would be too small on the following Lord’s-day. The Duchess therefore immediately placed the broad green area of what had been the old castle court at the service of the congregation. A naval captain with two or three visitors set up some military tents, and the ancient fortress was turned into a temple. The soldiers’ tents, with their white canvas and scarlet mountings, had a very picturesque appearance. On the Sabbath morning a large congregation assembled under the blue vault of heaven.

“Then did we worship in that faneBy God to mankind given;Whose lamp is the meridian sun,And all the stars of heaven.“Whose roof is the cerulean sky;Whose floor the earth so fair;Whose walls are vast immensity:All nature worships there.”

“Then did we worship in that faneBy God to mankind given;Whose lamp is the meridian sun,And all the stars of heaven.

“Then did we worship in that fane

By God to mankind given;

Whose lamp is the meridian sun,

And all the stars of heaven.

“Whose roof is the cerulean sky;Whose floor the earth so fair;Whose walls are vast immensity:All nature worships there.”

“Whose roof is the cerulean sky;

Whose floor the earth so fair;

Whose walls are vast immensity:

All nature worships there.”

Before the close of that service more than one was constrained to say, “God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined into our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” In 1859, she wrote in reference to evangelistic efforts: “There were eight thousand tracts given away at the feeing-market yesterday.” In the summer of 1860, many thousands assembled in the castle park, at the invitation of the Duchess, to listen to the silver trumpet of the gospel sounding the year of jubilee. Similar gatherings were held during the three following years. On some of these occasions it was computed that seven thousand persons were present; on others, ten thousand. The Lord’s people were refreshed, and many careless ones were awakened. In 1863, the Duchess writes: “I cannot but wonder to see the meetings increasing in numbers and interest every year; not as a rendezvous for a pleasant day in the country, but really very solemn meetings, where the presence of the Lord is felt and the power of His Spirit manifested.” Clergymen of a certain school may sneer at lay evangelists; she could not join them in their sneers. It may be that these men are not always prudent—that their zeal sometimes outruns their discretion. Well, what then? Would we have the sentinel to walk with measured military step, who is on his way to trample out the lighted match which has been set to a train of gunpowder? If not human lives, are human souls tobe sacrificed to the martinetism of the excessively prudent? If we are to contend against a thing merely because of its abuse, then all preaching must come to an end, clerical as well as lay.

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