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 Ewing, Greville, 1767-1841 
 
 Memoir of Barbara Ewing 
 
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 MEMOIR 
 
 OP 
 
 
 BARBARA EWING ; 
 
 BY 
 
 HER HUSBAND, 
 
 GREVILLE EWING 
 
 Jiostou : 
 
 LINCOLN AND EDMANDS. 
 1829. 
 
WHOSE MEMORY I CHERISH, 
 
 WHO STILL REMEMBERS ME, 
 WHOM I AM QUICKLY FOLLOWING TO DEATH, 
 
 AND HOPE, THROUGH MERCY, SOON TO MEET, 
 IN A DEATHLESS WORLD. 
 
PUBLISHERS' NOTICE. 
 
 An English copy of this work was put into 
 the hands of the Publishers by a pious friend in 
 Boston, with the hope that a book which had so 
 deeply interested the Christian community in 
 Scotland, might be reprinted in this country. 
 
 In presenting this edition, the Publishers feel 
 persuaded that the readers of Christian Memoirs 
 will find in the character of Mrs. Ewing, a re- 
 markable friend to the Saviour, and to his faith- 
 ful ministers and followers ; and place the work 
 among their choice selection of religious books. 
 It will enrich every family and Sabbath school 
 library into which it may be introduced. 
 
 A London periodical remarks : " Whether we 
 regard the materials which compose this volume, 
 or the artless manner in which the afflicted wri- 
 ter has thrown them together ; we cannot but 
 hail with peculiar satisfaction, the appearance of 
 such a work." 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Mrs. Ewing's birth and connexions, - - 9 
 
 General character, 11 
 
 Knowledge of the Gospel, 15 
 
 Dissent from the Established Church, - - 17 
 
 Accession to the Congregational Union, - - 19 
 
 Letter to Mrs. E r, 20 
 
 Extract of another Letter to the same, 30 
 
 Education and other opportunities of improvement, 31 
 
 Effect on the character of her religious profession, 32 
 Behaviour in cases of misunderstanding and op- 
 position, -------33 
 
 Letter to a young friend on the subject, - - 36 
 
 Forbearance and faithfulness, ... 39 
 Sentiments on Christian fellowship, and approved 
 
 authors, 41 
 
 Union of holy principle and heavenly temper, - 42 
 
 Specimens of early correspondence, in 
 
 A Letter, on the death of a Friend, - - 43 
 
 on the same, to the same, 44 
 
 on the death of an Aunt, 45 
 
 on the death of one in a doubtful state, 47 
 
 Eminence in various valuable qualities, - - 49 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Desire for the improvement of my Library, - 50 
 
 Character and success as a stepmother, 51 
 
 Letter to my daughter, - - - - - 52 
 
 Love to children and young people, 53 
 Letter to a young friend going abroad, - - 55 
 Zeal for missions, and various religious and be- 
 nevolent Institutions, 57 
 Sermons for the Congregational Union Widows' 
 
 and Ministers' fund, ... - 58 
 
 Journies for promoting the preaching of the Gospel, 59 
 
 Journey to London, ----- 61 
 
 Correspondence with Ministers and Missionaries, 63 
 Attendance on the Annual Meeting of the Con- 
 gregational Union, 64 
 Interest in sales of Ladies' Work, for the City 
 
 Mission, and for Itinerancies to the Highlands, 64 
 
 Habits, and correspondence, of private friendship, 65 
 Letters to a widowed friend, on the death of her 
 
 husband, -------67 
 
 Summer residence in the country, - - 72 
 
 Letter to the above widowed friend, 75 
 
 Last Letter to the same, ... - 77 
 
 Last visit to Durham, SI 
 
 Letter, on her return, to Mrs. Matheson, - 82 
 Letter to the same, on the City Mission Sale, and 
 
 on the last anniversary of our marriage, - 85 
 
 Letter to the same, on the death of her daughter, 87 
 
 State of Mrs. Ewing's health, ... 89 
 
 State of my health, 90 
 
 Circumstances preceding the calamity, - - 91 
 
 Mrs. Ewing's state of readiness, 92 
 
 Last Letter to Mrs. H n, 92 
 
CONTENTS. VII 
 
 Page 
 
 The Excursion, - 93 
 
 The Catastrophe, 97 
 
 Mrs. Ewing's fortitude and patience in her suf- 
 ferings, ------ 99 
 
 Her faith, hope, and love, in death, - 116 — 117 
 
 Lines on Mrs. Ewing's Death, - - - 127 
 
 Extract from Sermon of Rev. George Logan, 130 
 
 Extract from Sermon of Rev. Dr. Wardlaw, 133 
 
 Lines on visiting Mrs. Ewing's Grave, - - 142 
 
 Lines by Bernard Barton, .... 143 
 
 Lines by a Minister in Suffolk, - 144 
 
 Lines by a young Man, .... 145 
 
 Letters of Condolence, 148 
 
 by Mrs. Ewing, (too late for the Memoir,) 150, 151 
 
 by Mrs. Matheson, ... - 153 
 
 R. L , 156 
 
 Rev. Joseph Fletcher, 158 
 
 Rev. Henry Townley, .... 161 
 
 Rev. David Russel, 163 
 
 Rev. John Watson, 165 
 
 Rev. William Orme, 167 
 
 Rev. Neil M'Neil, 173 
 
 T. S. J 's Letter, 178 
 
 Rev. H. F. Burder, (ought to have been 167) 180 
 
 Rev. Andrew Ritchie, .... 182 
 
 Rev. Thomas Smith, 185 
 
 Rev. John Hill, 187 
 
 M. C. T r, 189 
 
 Rev. Alex. Dewar, 190 
 
 Church at Dumfries, 192 
 
 T. Erskine, Esq. ofLinlathen, 194 
 
 Rev. Ebenezer Miller, .... 195 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Rev. Gilbert Wardlaw, 201 
 
 Rev. G. D. Cullen, 203 
 
 Rev. J. Hill, 205 
 
 Aberdeenshire Association, - - - 208 
 
 Rev. John Aiknian, 212 
 
 M. H. 215 
 
 Rev. John Campbell, 216 
 
 Rev. Dr. Winter, 219 
 
 Rev. Dr. Clunie, 221 
 
 C. P 1, ....... 223 
 
MEMOIR. 
 
 Mrs. Ewing was bora at Polloc, on the 20th 
 December, 1773. Her maiden name was Bar- 
 bara Maxwell. She was the second daughter of 
 the late Sir James Maxwell, Baronet, of Polloc, 
 sister of the present Sir John Maxwell, and aunt 
 of John Maxwell, Esq., the present Member of 
 Parliament for the county of Renfrew, and of his 
 only remaining sister, Miss Maxwell. 
 
 When the honours of her ancient family be- 
 came at any time the subject of conversation, 
 she would acknowledge, with peculiar gratitude, 
 the goodness of God in raising up in it, at vari- 
 ous periods, many persons of eminent piety. In 
 the unhappy days of tyranny and persecution, 
 the Maxwells of Polloc, distinguished themselves 
 as friends to the civil and religious liberty of 
 their country. They afforded shelter to the dis- 
 tressed ministers of the Gospel of Christ— coun- 
 tenanced the preaching of the Gospel to the 
 afflicted people— relieved the necessities of the 
 outlawed Covenanters— and incurred heavy fines 
 B 
 
10 MEMOIR OF 
 
 for those generous acts of zeal and compassion.* 
 Mrs. Evving knew many instances of worthy 
 representatives, and members of the family, who 
 had remarkably adorned the doctrines of our 
 God and Saviour, in their respective times. In 
 her own day, also, she had seen bright examples 
 of excellence in her aunts, Miss Maxwell and 
 Mrs. Montgomery of Auldhouse ; and in Lady 
 Walter Maxwell, well known in the religious 
 world, both of Scotland and England, and of 
 whom more than one memoir has been pub- 
 lished. 
 
 Above all, she delighted in recollecting the 
 grace of God, which had been given to her on- 
 ly sister, Frances Maxwell, afterwards Mrs. Cun- 
 inghame of Craigends. From their infancy, 
 they had been endeared to each other by the 
 warmest natural affection. They became im- 
 pressed with the truth and value of the Gospel 
 about the same time, and by the same means. 
 In temper, talents, and Christian principle, they 
 proved t'.iemselves, while spared to each other, 
 to be kindred spirits. Barbara used to say, that 
 she looked up to her sister in every thing. I 
 suppose they were always communicative, con- 
 fidential, and most completely harmonious. 
 When Mrs. Cuninghame died, her sister felt as 
 if she could not live without her ; and yet she 
 said, that when she thought of the blessedness 
 
 See Wodrow's Church History. 
 
MRS. EWING. II 
 
 of the departed soul, she durst not indulge her 
 grief. That trying event happened several years 
 ago, but it had made an indelible impression on 
 Mrs. Ewing's mind. She never spoke of her 
 sister's death but with the deepest seriousness. 
 
 The writer of this Memoir is not the only wid- 
 owed husband connected with the Polloc family. 
 Among deceased friends, Mrs. Ewing had to 
 number a lovely, accomplished, and amiable 
 niece, who was called away in the morning of 
 life, soon after giving birth to her third child. 
 Miss Elizabeth Maxwell, afterwards Mrs. Stirling 
 of Kenmuir, was very dear to Mrs. Ewing, both 
 as a near relative, and from early years, a decid- 
 edly serious Christian. Congenial in spirit, they 
 were bound to each other by the strongest ties 
 of mutual attachment. They were lovely and 
 pleasant in their lives, and in their death they 
 have not been long divided. 
 
 The most prominent feature of Mrs. Ewing's 
 character, was the union of a very superior un- 
 derstanding, with the warmest fervour, and 
 keenest sensibility of an affectionate heart. 
 Those who best knew her, were most sensible 
 of this valuable union. Various as the views 
 and dispositions of a numerous class of relatives 
 must in every instance be, I believe it will not 
 be thought, by any of hers, too much to affirm, 
 that she deserved a high place in the esteem and 
 regard of them all ; and that, on her part, she 
 
12 MEMOIR OF 
 
 loved them all with the most enlightened and 
 exalted zeal. Her ardent, faithful, and unweari- 
 ed love to her affectionate mother, I witnessed 
 daily for several years. Her love to her father, 
 who died when she was about twelve years of 
 age, I have reason to believe was, in that early 
 period, equally intense. I had the fullest evi- 
 dence that her step-father, Sir John Shaw Stew- 
 art, who proved a kind parent to her, was an 
 object of her sincerest and most dutiful affection. 
 Her delight in her sister has already been men- 
 tioned. To this must be added a devoted at- 
 tachment to her two brothers. The tn< mory of 
 the younger, Captain Robert Maxwell, who died 
 many years ago, she tenderly cherished. That 
 the elder brother and his family were ever 
 among the very dearest to her heart, appeared 
 by the whole of her conduct on every occasion, 
 and especially, as I shall be able to show, in her 
 last hour. 
 
 She was sensibly alive indeed to everj relative 
 claim. The extensive circle of her cousins, and 
 the families of those of them who had any; her 
 contemporaries among them who had been her 
 ciates from early life, or those of them who, 
 being younger than herself, were at any time, or 
 in any degree under her charge ; all these were 
 ever regarded by her with the tendereal concern 
 for their dearesl interests. But it was not ne- 
 cessary to be related to her by the ties of blood 
 or affinity, to obtain the instructions of her 
 
MRS. EWING. 13 
 
 counsel, or the zealous exertions of her benevo- 
 lence. To every one who approached her, she 
 "opened her mouth with wisdom ; and in her 
 tongue was the law of kindness."* To en- 
 gage her judicious and effective services, it was 
 quite enough to give her an opportunity of serv- 
 ing her God, and doing good to her fellow crea- 
 tures. 
 
 A circumstance very remarkable in the his- 
 tory of my late beloved wife, was the affection 
 and esteem with which she was regarded by 
 worthy persons who intimately knew her from 
 the earliest period of her childhood. Not to 
 speak of any of her immediate relatives, whose 
 delight in her might be considered as the result, 
 in part at least, of their propinquity; nor of her 
 youthful companions, whose juvenile fondness, 
 arising out of mutual amusement, might be con- 
 firmed by habit and association ; there were 
 some excellent individuals called to discharge to 
 her duties of the most important, but anxious 
 and trying nature, who became attached to her 
 to a degree that is far from being common. She 
 was blest, for example, with a pious nurse, who, 
 being a widow, continued with her during the 
 whole of her childhood, till she was about to be 
 committed to the care of a governess. As the 
 nurse was much esteemed in the family, it was 
 then proposed to her to remain as housekeeper. 
 
 * Prov. xxxi. 26. 
 
14 MEMOIR OF 
 
 This proposal she at first declined, being unwil- 
 ling to undertake so great a charge; but, on 
 finding she could not otherwise continue in the 
 house, she said, " rather than leave my bairn, 
 I will be housekeeper, and do the best I can." 
 In her new office she gave great satisfaction, 
 and did not leave the family till she again mar- 
 ried, and rose to a deservedly superior situation 
 in life. To this day, she is respected by them 
 all. While Mrs. Ewing lived, a mutual affec- 
 tion, like that of parent and child, was enhanced 
 by the bonds of Christian fellowship ; and now 
 that she is gone, the survivor is justly reckoned 
 among the deepest of the mourners. 
 
 Mrs. Ewing's governess was also very faithful 
 and affectionate. She died some years ago in 
 England, of which she was a native. She was 
 in different families before she retired to her 
 own country ; but she always maintained a con- 
 fidential correspondence with her old pupil ; vis- 
 ited her as one of her most esteemed friends, 
 when she returned occasionally to this neigh- 
 bourhood; and, as a serious inquirer on the 
 most important subjects, consulted her whom 
 she had formerly been accustomed to teach. 
 
 I have no doubt, that Mrs. Ewing received her 
 first serious impressions from some of her own 
 relatives, or from her nurse, and other Christians 
 with whom it was her happiness to be acquaint- 
 ed in her earliest years. It appears, however. 
 
MRS. EWING. 15 
 
 that her knowledge of the gospel of Christ, was, 
 under God, the effect of reading a book, which 
 has been blessed to many, Doddridge's Rise and 
 Progress of Religion in the Soul. By means of 
 it she saw her guilt and depravity as a sinner, 
 who, with all mankind, had broken the holy and 
 spiritual, perfect and eternal, law of God ; the 
 love of God in giving his own Son as a ransom for 
 mankind; the suitableness of the Saviour's atone- 
 ment for sin ; and the sufficiency of the grace of 
 the Holy Spirit, who causeth sinners to pass from 
 death to life, and workcth in his people to will 
 and to do of his good pleasure. She received 
 the love of the truth, that she might be saved. 
 Believing in Christ, she enjoyed the earnest and 
 foretaste of heavenly felicity in the present pos- 
 session of eternal life. Her prayers and praises 
 became those of an adopted child of her heav- 
 enly Father ; and all the duties of her humble, 
 devoted, self-denied, decisive, and exemplary vi- 
 tal Christianity, were, in her esteem, honours and 
 blessings, for which she never ceased to give 
 the most grateful thanks. 
 
 Happy now, in the true sense of the word, she 
 lost her relish for the gaieties of the fashionable 
 world. Her pleasure was the hearing of the 
 gospel, and the other exercises and ordinances 
 of social worship. She was attracted by Chris- 
 tian society, spiritual conversation, and serious 
 epistolary correspondence. Her friendships arose 
 out of religious intercourse. She entered warm- 
 
16" MEMOIR OF 
 
 ly into the spirit of the exertions of the animat- 
 ing day, in which she had been introduced into 
 the kingdom of Christ. She became interested 
 in the cause of missions to the heathen ; of itin- 
 erancies and Sabbath-schools in her own coun- 
 try ; of recalling the attention of unbelieving 
 Jews to the meaning of their own Scriptures, 
 and the other evidences that Jesus is the Christ; 
 of translating the Holy Scriptures into every 
 language; and of filling the world, Greek church, 
 Popish, and Protestant, Mahommedan and Pa- 
 gan, with copies to every man, in his own tongue, 
 of the ever-living and life giving oracles of God. 
 The kind of preaching, and of public worship 
 to which she had been accustomed in the differ- 
 ent places of her residence in the country, were 
 far from corresponding with her recently acquir- 
 ed evangelical and impressive views of divine 
 truth. She gladly embraced, therefore, oppor- 
 tunities of visiting Edinburgh, where she could 
 Inn e choice of preachers, a wider circle of Chris- 
 tian friends, and more abundant means of ob- 
 taining instruction, and enjoying comfort and 
 encouragement in holding last the confes.-ion 
 of her hope. Here she soon began to prefer 
 the itinerant and Congregational preachers, 
 for the simplicity, as she termed it, as well 
 as seriousness of their preaching, and for 
 the efforts they weir making to form their 
 Christian fellowship solely according to the rules 
 and examples of Holy Scripture. She disap- 
 
MRS. EWING. 17 
 
 proved of the promiscuous state of communion 
 which necessarily ohtaius in every national 
 church ; felt the want of faithfulness in the usu- 
 al way of admitting persons, especially of the 
 higher ranks, to' the Lord's table ; and could not 
 submit to human authority in opposition to the 
 revealed will of the divine Saviour. 
 
 On returning to the country, she decidedly re- 
 fused to hear parish ministers, who did not 
 preach the gospel ; and left offjoining in com- 
 munion at sacraments, which she had been for- 
 merly in the habit of attending. She not only 
 disregarded the opinion of the world, but declin- 
 ed compliance with the advice of fellow Chris- 
 tians, when she detected in it conformity to the 
 world, rather than being " transformed by the 
 renewing of the mind, and proving what is that 
 good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God." 
 She was particularly surprised and shocked at 
 attempts which were made by some ministers of 
 the establishment, whom she esteemed and lov- 
 ed as disciples of Christ, byt who advised her to 
 attend a parish church in the country,, where 
 the gospel was not preached, rather than give 
 an example of dissent ; representing it as a want 
 of spirituality, and of self-denial, and as an evi- 
 dence of presumption, if she should act in a dif- 
 ferent manner. 
 
 She could not, however, reconcile her mind to 
 various evils, which she was grieved to find pre- 
 vailing around her ; doctrine, in her judgment, 
 
18 MEMOIR OF 
 
 frequently erroneous, or confused, or inconsist- 
 ent, or brought forward in a careless, and unin- 
 teresting manner: people generally disposed to 
 a self righteous system; having a form of godli- 
 ness (sometimes little even of that,) but denying 
 the power thereof: giving no conscientious at- 
 tention to the religious instruction 1 , and education 
 of children at home ; or to the word andVworship 
 of God in the family : leaving every thing to the 
 week-day school-master: jealous of Sabbath 
 schools : ashamed to countenance itinerant and 
 dissenting preachers, even when they acknowl- 
 edged them to be needful : and so opposed to 
 the alarming and humbling doctrines of the gos- 
 pel, that when she spoke even to the sick and 
 dying of the mercy of God though Christ as the 
 sinner's hope ; of the state and character of 
 every man as a sinner ; of the corruption of the 
 heart, and the guilt of the life ; of the necessity, 
 ami the perfection, of the atonement of Christ; 
 of the renewing of the Holy Spirit; and of the 
 exaltation of Christ as a Prince and a Saviour to 
 give repentance and the forgiveness of sins; — 
 
 they sometimes assured her that she was mis- 
 taken in their character; that she must have 
 been misinformed by calumniators : that they 
 
 were not snob as Bhe had perhaps been accus- 
 tomed t" inert with in Other parts of the coun- 
 try ; that she did not know them, otherwise she 
 would have formed a more favourable (.pinion. 
 Seeing herself, and her neighbors, surrounded 
 
MRS. EWING. 19 
 
 with such grievous disadvantages, she was led to 
 search the Scriptures, with earnest prayer, that 
 she might learn the duty of Christians in pro- 
 moting the interests of the gospel in the world, 
 and in providing themselves with the means of 
 enjoying the blessings of church fellowship for 
 mutual edification. She soon saw how plain 
 and easy the path of duty is, in these, as in all 
 other cases. She procured visits from itinerant, 
 and Congregational preachers to Auldkirk, a vil- 
 lage in the vicinity of the place where she then 
 lived. A congregation was raised ; a house was 
 hired, and soon after a meeting-house built for 
 their accommodation ; at last a Congregational 
 church was formed, which continues to this day, 
 and out of which were early furnished the first 
 materials of a larger church, which has now sub- 
 sisted several years, in that extensive and impor- 
 tant sphere of usefulness, the town of Greenock. 
 I know no way, in which the work of God may 
 be more speedily or extensively revived in every 
 part of this country, than that Christians act in 
 the same decided manner, wherever it is their 
 lot to dwell. Say not, we can do nothing, be- 
 cause we live in a wilderness. It is the very 
 reason why you should do something. And 
 what you can do is perfectly obvious. Bring to 
 your wilderness the preaching of the gospel. In- 
 vite those, whom you know to preach it in other 
 places ; who are ready to come, at your call, to 
 visit you for the same purpose. And look to 
 
20 MEMOIR or 
 
 God for bis promised blessing. "The wilder- 
 ness and the solitary place shall be glad for 
 them, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom 
 as the rose.'** 
 
 Tbe reasons, and the maimer of her dissent 
 from the church of Scotland, it was necessary to 
 mention, in giving an account of 3Irs. Ewing's 
 religious | rogress. On the particulars, however, 
 I need Dot further enlarge, as the reader will be 
 much better pleased to see them stated by -Mrs. 
 Ewing herself, in a letter which was written, I 
 believe, in 1821, to a young friend, who had re- 
 quested a correspondence with her on the sub- 
 ject of religion, and which that friend has now 
 kindl) sent me, and permitted me to publish. 
 It was evidently written in haste, and without 
 the m ist distant view to publication. On the 
 latter account it appears to me peculiarly valua- 
 ble; and though she might have wished to 
 have made it a more finished composition, I 
 am cerl tin she would not be ashamed of a sen- 
 timenl ii contains. 
 
 "My dear Mis. E r, 
 
 "My wish to write you. ever since I got youi 
 lctt.r. of the *Jl<t September, has been very 
 stron-. but hitherto I ha\c hern wholly unable. 
 As 1 told you at church, my last week's hin- 
 derance was illness. It strikes me that in be- 
 ginning a correspondence, id which religion is 
 
 * Isa. xxxv. I. 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 21 
 
 to hold the prominent place, and after receiving 
 a statement of your views and feelings on this 
 point, the best plan I can follow is to give you 
 some account of mine. My ideas, in early life, 
 were very vague as to the character of God, 
 and the nature of worship. I merely remember, 
 that when any thing of a distressing nature oc- 
 curred to me, was it but a dispute with a play- 
 mate, the first thought was, " Have I forgot to 
 say my prayers." This was mere superstition, 
 for I do not remember attaching an idea to the 
 words I repeated. When about thirteen, I be- 
 gan to have new ideas on these subjects, took 
 delight in contemplating God in his works, and 
 the ordinary round of duties. I can truly say, 
 my most pleasing hours were then spent in 
 reading, singing hymns, and in prayer. I 
 thought, in this way, I should attain the favour 
 of God, and become good. When my good res- 
 olutions and devotional plans were broken in 
 upon, and conscience told me I was wrong, I 
 used to be very unhappy, and generally healed 
 this by new resolutions and new efforts, which 
 were as ill adhered to, and cause of new sorrow. 
 When between fourteen and fifteen, I had a 
 great desire to go with my mother and sister to 
 attend the preachings, and be a communicant at 
 Eastwood. My mother told me I was too 
 young to understand the nature of it, and I must 
 stay at home with Sir John, and take charge in 
 her absence. Till the same period came, the 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 
 following year, when I was allowed to go, I was 
 very unhappy. My mind had been very deeply 
 impressed with two sermons, one on the omni- 
 presence of God, and the other on the certainty of 
 death, and the uncertainty of its summons,— but 
 it was in a volume as destitute of what could in- 
 struct me, as to the character of God, and Christ, 
 and myself as a sinner, and the method of salva- 
 tion, to give permanent peace and joy, and in be- 
 lieving, as the volume you quote, Blair's Sermons. 
 Therefore, I was awakened to new diligence in 
 the old way ; and viewing the Lord's supper as 
 a commanded duty, I was very miserable at not 
 having obeyed it, and was in constant dread of 
 death, thinking my case, on that account, very 
 alarming. It was joy and delight when I was 
 permitted to go, and much time was spent in fit- 
 ting myself to join, and I suppose my comfort 
 was such as is felt by those who think they real- 
 ly are absolved from their sins when a fellow 
 tinner performs this wonder. You who have 
 heard and read gospel doctrine, may wonder at 
 my ignorance, but I must account for it by tell- 
 in- you that, to Ihebestofmy knowledge, I nev- 
 er heard a gospel sermon ; and though I am 
 sure there were Christian characters with whom 
 I had met, and your excellent mother was one of 
 them, J an. almost certain J had do distinct in- 
 struction in any other way than in this, of work- 
 ing far life. My religious reading was very bad 
 Weed; Blair's, Fordyce's, Sterne's Sermons, 
 
MRS. EWING. 23 
 
 and such like. No one questioned me as to my 
 views, young as I was, in going to the Lord's 
 Supper, and I well remember the answer given 
 by the minister when he was asked if he wished 
 to speak to me, was, it was quite unnecessary. 
 I felt increasing importance in religion, but nev- 
 er understood any thing of the true God and 
 eternal life, till about eighteen. I have no doubt 
 he awakened in my conscience a painful sense 
 of my sins, and shortcomings to what I knew of 
 his commandments ; but I never till then saw the 
 spirituality of his law, which being holy, just, 
 and good, proved me guilty, and unable to do 
 any thing, in whole or in part, to justify myself 
 before him. I never till then saw the suita- 
 bleness of that atonement made for sin, by Him 
 who laid down his life in the room of the guilty. 
 It was then that the love of God, in sending his 
 beloved Son to seek and to save the lost, ap- 
 peared at once to relieve from guilty fear, and to 
 bind by the strongest ties of gratitude, in endeav- 
 ouring to serve him, in newness of life ; and 
 the promise of the Holy Spirit to shed abroad 
 that love in the heart, and to work in me both to 
 will and to do of his good pleasure, gave all that 
 was necessary ; for I knew, by bitter, heart-rend- 
 ing experience, it was not in me to think even a 
 good thought abidingly. The means that it pleas- 
 ed God to use to open the eyes of both my be- 
 loved sister and myself, was Doddridge's Rise and 
 Progress of Religion in the Soul. How it came 
 
24 MEMOIR OF 
 
 into our hands we never could trace. It is a 
 very awakening searching book, and though 
 there are some things in it which we did not ap- 
 prove, yet it led us to scriptural views of our- 
 selves, of the world, as all corrupt, of the only 
 way in which God could be just, and justify the 
 ungodly, and I may say, led us to bring its own 
 doctrines to the test of Scripture. 
 
 " I have little more to say as to my views as to 
 how a sinner is accepted with God : my progress 
 in knowledge was slow ; one great hinderance 
 was the want of the means of grace. In five 
 different parishes in which I resided, and under 
 nine different ministers, the gospel of the grace 
 of God was not preached. After your mother 
 went to Glasgow, by her means we saw the 
 Evangelical Magazine sometimes. The ac- 
 counts it contained of the formation of the Mis- 
 sionary Society, and other attempts for promot- 
 ing the cause of God, I often tell Mr. Ewing, 
 was the means of teaching me economy, and 
 the value of money. Till then, my quarterly 
 payment was always forestalled by inconsidera- 
 tion of one kind or another ; for even what was 
 extolled as benevolence and generosity, was 
 nothing better than yielding to sympathy and 
 lively feeling. But I saw when it required mon- 
 ey to use the means to save precious immortal 
 souls, I was accountable to God, as a steward, 
 and that there was an object to be attained 
 
MRS. EWING. 25 
 
 worth thinking about. When I was delighted 
 with the zeal and self-denial of Missionaries go- 
 ing into foreign climes, I often wished some 
 such would visit Scotland. 
 
 " You can hardly, then, form an idea of the 
 pleasure conveyed to me by a pamphlet your 
 mother put into my hands, giving the journal of 
 the first itinerancies of Messrs. Haldane, Aik- 
 man, and Rait ; and I accepted an invitation to 
 go to Edinburgh in 1798, chiefly from the wish 
 to meet with them if possible, though I did not 
 know any person who knew them. My stay in 
 
 Edinburgh was protracted, owing to Mr. C , 
 
 of C ' s coming in to get medical assistance, 
 
 from October 1798, to May 1799. During that 
 time I heard all the gospel ministers in the estab- 
 lishment, and none other, forenoon and after- 
 noon ; but I went as often as I could in the 
 evening of Sabbath to the Circus, and longed 
 for the evening, I liked the style of preaching so 
 much. Some of the established ministers "ex- 
 postulated with me for doing so ; and I told them 
 my only reason was, that I found the style more 
 suitable for me, which I attributed to my igno- 
 rance, as I thought I was not well enough in- 
 structed in the first principles to be able to benefit 
 by their addresses to Christians. 
 
 " When I returned home * I was more than 
 ever grieved for the want of the gospel, both on 
 
 * To Ardgowan. 
 C 
 
26 MEMOIR OF 
 
 my own account, and on account of the people 
 off the parish, who were dreadfully ignorant. 
 When I visited them in sickness or poverty, and 
 spoke to them as sinners needing salvation, they 
 assured me they were not sinners ; but some of 
 them excused me for speaking so to them, as 
 they knew in Pollockshaws there were very bad 
 characters. This led me to adopt the plan of 
 writing to Mr. Ewing (whom I did not then 
 know,) for preachers to come down. My moth- 
 er also got a Sabbath school, and a serious 
 teacher. 
 
 "The way I had been myself received as a 
 communicant, and the mixture of moral and im- 
 moral, religious and irreligious, without discrim- 
 ination, who I saw were alike made welcome at 
 the Lord's table, by both gospel ministers and 
 careless ones, in the Church of Scotland and 
 the Church of England, made me wonder great- 
 ly. I questioned some of them on the subject, 
 and asked them if they did not think it was cal- 
 culated to deceive. Some said they fenced the 
 tables, and it was at their own peril if any im- 
 proper characters joined. Others said it was 
 vain to try to keep back such, for other ministers 
 would receive them, and if once received by any 
 they must ever after, or be subject to censure 
 in church courts. Others said that they might 
 be prosecuted in a civil court, if they refused ; 
 and some, that they could comfortably sit with 
 a murderer on one hand, and a drunkard on the 
 
MRS. EWING. 27 
 
 other, and bold communion with God. As to 
 the Church of England, I knew none could be 
 kept back if they chose to come, except they 
 could be excommunicated. 
 
 " When I was led to feel uneasy on this sub- 
 ject, on account of some dear to me, who, I 
 thought, were deceived by a round of externals 
 in religion, some passages of my Bible struck 
 me, as teaching a different mode from any I 
 knew of, for I had not then ever heard of any 
 person or church who did. I felt anguish at the 
 idea of my aiding in deluding any, after testify- 
 ing to them that they were not building on the 
 true foundation of hope, by seeming to unite 
 with them in professing that we both were be- 
 lievers in Christ. This led me to earnest pray- 
 er to God for direction, and knowing all his will 
 was to be found revealed in his word, I began 
 reading the New Testament, on my knees, en- 
 treating the Lord to lead me to see where the 
 error was, and to instruct me that I might fol- 
 low, not others, but be guided by Him. 
 
 " I was much astonished to find how much 
 bore on the nature and duty of a church, and 
 soon came to see that it was owing to the blind- 
 ness of my mind that I had been so much per- 
 plexed. The manner in which the churches are 
 addressed by the Apostles, in the Epistles, shows 
 what the characters were who had been receiv- 
 ed. Our Saviour's directions to his disciples, 
 and the very words of our Lord, when he insti* 
 
28 MEMOIR OF 
 
 tuted the Lord's supper, seemed to me an indu- 
 bitable evidence, that only those who are his 
 children by faith are by him accounted fit. I 
 saw there were rules to be followed that would 
 prevent unbelievers being received as such, and 
 rules by which, if any, by hypocrisy crept in, 
 they would be, on detection, excluded. I saw 
 promises to obedience in this, and threatenings to 
 disobedience. It even appears that He will per- 
 mit some hypocrites to creep in, for the very 
 purpose of proving the fidelity of his servants. 
 When I came to some clear notions of what a 
 church of Christ should be, I did not know if 
 there were any of this description in existence, 
 and therefore, as from conscience, I could no 
 longer be a member of a mixed church, you may 
 guess, I was very thankful when I found there 
 were some who had united on the same princi- 
 ples. 
 
 " Now, my reason for giving you this history of 
 myself, is (as it relates to my views of a church,) 
 you speak of the difference between an Episco- 
 palian and Independent, as immaterial. What I 
 have seen as a part of the will of that God who 
 is so wise as to do nothing and require nothing 
 in vain, cannot be so accounted by me. And I 
 can truly say, I have not been swayed by the 
 piety, or talents, or learning of men at all, either 
 in forming or estimating my judgment in this 
 matter. Indeed, I experienced that, in comply- 
 ing with my convictions, I had all the tempta- 
 
MRS. EWING. 29 
 
 tions on the other side — all my worldly friends, 
 and I must say, the most of my Christian friends, 
 were much opposed to it. The more I study 
 the Scriptures, the more I see the effects of 
 scriptural churches ; the more I also see of the 
 wisdom and goodness of God to his people when 
 thus separated, and thus following all his will. 
 Though I am thus avowedly an Independent, I 
 feel no difficulty in loving all of every sect and 
 name, who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincer- 
 ity, and rejoice in joining with them in every 
 act of worship, and every thing, in which they 
 do not unite with themselves, those who give 
 evidence they are not one in Christ Jesus. 
 
 " I shall be happy to hear from you after you 
 have read this very tedious letter, which, from 
 want of time, I have not been able to compress. 
 You will not criticise the style, but I should like 
 to have your observations — how far you go 
 along with me, and where you differ. In some 
 places, I dare say, my meaning may be obscure; 
 point this out, and ask explanation without cer- 
 emony. It will give me very great pleasure if I 
 can be of any use to you, and perhaps you will 
 write with more satisfaction to me that you 
 know more distinctly rny sentiments. 
 " I remain, 
 
 My dear Mrs. E r, 
 
 Yours sincerely and affectionately, 
 13. Ewing," 
 
30 MEMOIR OF 
 
 To the above, I shall add a short extract from 
 another letter, to the same correspondent, be- 
 cause, although written in great haste, and con- 
 taining hints only, it appears to me to suggest 
 what is calculated to be useful, as well as to il- 
 lustrate the character of the writer. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. E r, 
 
 " I have not at present time to enter fully into 
 the subject on which we differ as to justifica- 
 tion ; I would refer you to the Eleventh Article 
 of Religion in your own Prayer Book; and when 
 we meet, I will state how I think James, in his 
 Epistle, teaches the same doctrine. I very 
 much approve of your endeavouring to instruct 
 your servants, and think plain reading to them 
 is an admirable means ; even if you put good 
 books into their hands, they read so ill in gener- 
 al as not to understand. Burder's Village Ser- 
 mons have been very useful in that very line. 
 There are a few plain tracts, too, that I think 
 peculiarly suited for this purpose ; I will en- 
 deavour to pick some out for you of those. 1 like, 
 and you can read them first yourself. Besides 
 reading, a word or two of personal address is 
 very useful — such as saying, before you begin, 
 that it is with an impression of the danger of 
 their immortal souls, if they are without faith in 
 Christ, that you read to them ; or, stopping 
 when you feel the importance of any sentence, 
 mid entreating them to apply it to their own 
 
MRS. EWING. 31 
 
 consciences, as they must give an account to God 
 for having heard the word that saves the soul. 
 " I write in great haste, but you will ex- 
 cuse it. May the Lord lead and guide you 
 into all truth, and establish you in the faith 
 and hope of the Gospel, and bless you, and 
 honour you to gain the souls of all those dear 
 to you, and who, from being under your roof, 
 are committed in a manner to your care. 
 " I am, 
 
 My dear Mrs. E r, 
 
 Yours very affectionately, 
 
 " B. Ewing." 
 "4, Carlton Place, 15th JYov. 1821." 
 
 Mrs. Swing's superior talents and amiable 
 temper had been cultivated with every possible 
 advantage of education, not only by her excel- 
 lent governess, but by the first masters in every 
 useful and elegant accomplishment, both in Ed- 
 inburgh and London. She had also the best 
 opportunities of seeing the most polished socie- 
 ty. Her step-father, himself a man of very pow- 
 erful mind, and engaging qualities, was in hab- 
 its of intimacy with the first people of his day, 
 to whom he every where proved a centre of at- 
 traction. For many years he was almost con- 
 stantly in parliament, during which his family 
 sometimes spent the winter in London ; and 
 there were very few places of note, or interest, 
 or general resort, in any part of the island, 
 
32 MEMOIR OF 
 
 which they did not occasionally reside in, or 
 visit, in the other seasons of the year. Besides 
 the circle she daily moved in at home, therefore, 
 there were many persons of eminence and celeb- 
 rity, in all parts of the kingdom, whom she had, 
 more or less, seen and known, in her younger 
 days. 
 
 When, with these opportunities of improve- 
 ment, she came to enjoy the renovating influ- 
 ence of divine grace, the result was admirable. 
 Her knowledge of the world, her correct sense 
 of propriety, her elegant manners, her powers 
 of conversation ; combined with a thorough ac- 
 quaintance with the nature of the principles she 
 had embraced, and the most conscientious integ- 
 rity, and affectionate, modest, humble zeal ; — 
 these rare qualities added such winning and 
 commanding influence to the example she gave 
 of true religion, that its friends were delighted, 
 and its enemies often alarmed. With simplicity 
 of heart she made a solemn avowal of Christian 
 principle, and adhered to it inflexibly on all oc- 
 casions. At the same time, her open profession 
 of the faith of Christ was entirely free from mo- 
 roseness. She was deeply serious, yet always 
 cheerful ; cheerful often to liveliness, yet always 
 composed. She was uniformly decided in de- 
 clining whatever she considered as sinful compli- 
 ance ; but never obtrusive in urging on others 
 an imitation of her practice. She sought no 
 one's countenance, where there was not cordial 
 
MRS. EWING. 33 
 
 and acknowledged union in principle. She was 
 jealous, lest partial friends should deceive them- 
 selves, by an adoption of rules, which they did 
 not really prefer. And if any one encountered 
 her in the form of an opponent, while she rose 
 superior to the "fear of man which bringeth a 
 snare ;" she did not think it desirable to provoke 
 controversy about particular indulgences or re- 
 straints, except the foundation of repentance 
 unto life were previously laid, and the motives 
 to willing obedience duly enforced, in the faith- 
 ful communication of the leading doctrines of 
 the gospel. To dispute about the former alone, 
 or in the first instance, she called, a mere lopping 
 of the branches ; it was only, she said, by means 
 of the latter, that, through the blessing of God, 
 " the axe could be laid to the root of the trees." 
 None could feel more keenly than Mrs. Ewing 
 did, under unkind treatment, especially when 
 religion caused, or exasperated, the hostility she 
 experienced. But if she had poignant suffer- 
 ings, she also had strong consolations. In cases 
 of misunderstanding, few, indeed, could be more 
 free from the painful consciousness of hav- 
 ing intentionally given provocation. Had she 
 dropt a hasty word, she was miserable till she 
 acknowledged it, in the most candid manner. 
 Her habitual kindness made it impossible to 
 suppose, that she meant to do any thing with 
 bitterness. Disputes about temporal affairs she 
 D 
 
34 MEMOIR OF 
 
 settled with a facility, and a nobleness of mind, 
 which quashed them in the commencement, and 
 sometimes astonished those who had been ready 
 to contend with her. If used injuriously on ac- 
 count of her zeal for the gospel ; if misrepresent- 
 ed, or wounded in any tender part, because of 
 her faithfulness to souls, which ought to have 
 met with a very different return ; she was chief- 
 ly sorry for the state of those, whose enmity was 
 against God, rather than her, and could prove 
 injurious only to themselves. The strongest 
 thing I ever heard her say of her own wrongs 
 
 was — 
 
 " But with my God I leave ray cause, 
 
 From him I seek relief; 
 To him in confidence of prayer, 
 
 Unbosom all my grief." 
 
 These lines I have heard her repeat, but only 
 once or twice, and in private confidential con- 
 versation. The world never heard from her, that 
 she had any griefs to complain of: she always 
 gratefully acknowledged that her trials were few, 
 and her comforts many ; most cordially did she 
 comply with the precepts of our Saviour, as to 
 the forgiveness of injuries, and the love of ene- 
 mies; for this, I believe, she had a testimony to 
 the reality and excellence of her religion, in the 
 consciences of some, who had warmly opposed 
 her ; while those who best knew her had fre- 
 quent occasion to be astonished and delighted 
 at the cordiality and zeal with which she prac- 
 
MRS. EWIKG. 35 
 
 tically evinced the forgetfulness of injuries, and 
 the sincerity of her love, in every instance of re- 
 conciliation, and even in instances where no 
 apology had ever been made. Usually, indeed, 
 she felt humbled to think that she had so little 
 of that religion, for which others gave her credit, 
 while they took offence at its alleged excess. 
 She was only anxious to be preserved from any 
 compromise of principle, which might offend 
 God, injure her own soul, distress fellow Chris- 
 tians, and harden adversaries in unbelief. As 
 to every other view of the subject, she manifest- 
 ed a steadfast faith in our Saviour's crowning 
 beatitude, and a cheerful compliance with the 
 exhortation he connects with it. "Blessed are 
 they which are persecuted for righteousness' 
 sake : for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Bless- 
 ed are ye when men shall revile you, and perse- 
 cute you, and shall say all manner of evil against 
 you falsely for my sake. Rejoice, and be ex- 
 ceeding glad ; for great is your reward in heav- 
 en : for so persecuted they the prophets which 
 were before you." * 
 
 Here, again, I have the happiness of letting 
 her speak for herself, in a letter written by her 
 at an early period, to a young Christian friend, 
 whose spirits were sinking, and whose health 
 was injured, in consequence of severe afflictions 
 of this nature. It breathes the tenderest sym- 
 
 Matthew v. 10—12. 
 
36 MEMOIR OF 
 
 pathy, and suggests the most animating conso- 
 lations, while it deals faithfully and closely with 
 the conscience, and gives the most appropriate 
 and salutary practical advice. 
 
 " Saturday night. 
 
 1 My dear , 
 
 " I am truly sorry to hear of your trials, and of 
 your being unwell, and also of that despondency 
 of your mind, which is of all the most painful. 
 Read the 51st of Isaiah, especially the 12th and 
 13th verses. * They are addressed to those in 
 the most distressing situations, and calculated 
 to afford support and comfort. Your mind 
 seems full of darkness ; but whatever your form- 
 er attainments have been, it never will be by 
 looking back for evidence of your own Christian- 
 ity that you will find satisfaction. Nor should 
 any view of yourself as the chief of sinners, 
 keep you from attending the means of grace. 
 Jesus says, ' Come unto me, all ye that labour, 
 and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' 
 Obey this gracious invitation, and you will find 
 
 * " I, even I, am he that comforteth you : who art thou, 
 that thou shouldst be afraid of a man that shall die, 
 and of the son of man which shall be made as grass ; 
 and forgettest the Lord thy maker, that hath stretched 
 forth the heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth ; 
 and hast feared continually every day because of the 
 fury of the oppressor, as if he were ready to destroy ? 
 and where is the fury of the oppressor?" 
 
MRS. EWING. 37 
 
 that faithful is he that promises. It is no proof 
 that any are not the Lord's, that they are afflict- 
 ed. 'Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, 
 and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.' 
 It is through much tribulation that his people 
 are to enter the kingdom of heaven. Many 
 have seen reason to bless God for affliction. 
 I would hope I may say I am one. Indeed, God 
 does nothing in vain ; he does not willingly 
 grieve the children of men ; and it becomes all 
 to inquire, wherefore he contends with them, 
 and to listen to the voice of his dispensations. 
 But this we must ever remember, none of them 
 can speak a language contrary to Scripture; 
 and God plainly declares, that he wills not the 
 death of sinners ; yea, condescends to complain 
 that they will not come unto him that they may 
 have life. What love is there in this ! If you 
 have made the greatest progress in the divine 
 life, it is only by holding the beginning of your 
 confidence steadfast that you can have peace and 
 joy ; and if you are yet living without Christ, 
 and without God, still there is a fulness in him, 
 and whoso cometh unto him shall in no wise be 
 cast out : ' Ask, and ye shall receive ; seek, and 
 ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened.' 
 None ever sought his face in vain. But remem- 
 ber, my dear , for all those things the Lord 
 
 will be inquired of. Are you as often on your 
 knees, as you are employed in ruminating on 
 the trials you are exposed to ? Are you as earn- 
 
38 MEMOIR OF 
 
 est in seeking the direction and assistance of 
 God, as you are desirous of the sympathy of 
 your friends ? Or may what our Saviour says to 
 his disciples be applied to you, ■ Hitherto ye 
 have asked nothing in my name.' But what 
 follows this— listen to it as if now addressed to 
 yourself; and so it is, for no Scripture is of pri- 
 vate interpretation, and most delightfully en- 
 couraging it is. ' Ask, and ye shall receive, that 
 your joy may be full.' I remember a text of 
 Scripture that was very delightful to me in a 
 trying time, and probably I have often mention- 
 ed it to you, ' Be careful for nothing, but in every 
 thing by prayer and supplication, with thanks- 
 giving, let your requests be made known unto 
 God.' What an unspeakable cause of thanks- 
 giving, that we have a God to go to, whose 
 power and love are so great, that we need fear 
 nor want nothing if he is ours, and who invites 
 us to call upon him in the day of trouble. 
 
 " I trust you will be kept from making sinful 
 compliances. On the minds of others they 
 would have a bad effect. As for yourself, be- 
 lieve it, they will have a very baneful influence ; 
 you will lay yourself open to more requests of a 
 like nature; and you never can have peace 
 of conscience if you do not walk in the path of 
 duty. Do not mind what is said of you that 
 you know to be false ; that is what we must ev- 
 er expect ; all who make a profession must ex- 
 pect that cross. I beseech you to receive this 
 
MRS. EWING. 39 
 
 not from men, they are only a second cause, but 
 from God ; he reigns, and has every heart in his 
 has hand. This idea keeps us quiet, and pre- 
 vents our feeling resentments to those whom 
 we view as instruments. We are called to 
 adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all 
 things. I desire to bear you on my mind when 
 I am pleading for myself at a throne of grace. 
 May the Lord keep, and guide you, and lead 
 you near to himself, who is the source of all 
 blessedness, and comfort, and joy. 
 
 " I am, my dear , 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 "B. Ewing." 
 
 While Mrs. Ewing "walked in wisdom to- 
 wards those that were without," she exercised a 
 conscientious forbearance towards fellow Chris- 
 tians who did not agree with her on particular 
 questions of personal conduct, whether in Chris- 
 tian fellowship or in ordinary life. She never 
 declined to state her own views when inquired 
 after, to vindicate them when attacked, or to 
 recommend them to the examination of those 
 who had not before considered the subject ; but 
 she had a high sense of the rights of private 
 judgment; she desired no conformity without 
 conviction ; she deprecated a blind submission 
 to human authority as offensive to God, disgust- 
 ing to his people, and degrading equally to those 
 who yielded, and those who required, or so 
 much as allowed it. Accordingly, several of 
 
-10 MEMOIR OF 
 
 her Nearest and most attached Christian friends 
 belonged to denominations of religion different 
 from that which she had herself chosen. 
 
 But she was by no means undistinguishing in 
 her opinions either of persons or things. She 
 never called that a pure Gospel which could 
 leave rules of practice, whether public or private, 
 out of the question. She regarded the Saviour's 
 authority as equally sacred on every subject. 
 She had the strongest possible conviction of the 
 importance of following no human authority, in 
 observing the ordinances of Christian worship 
 and discipline. She esteemed her teachers very 
 highly in love for their works' sake ; but called 
 no man father or master on earth. She loved 
 her neighbour far too well to avoid telling him, 
 if she saw him guilty of error or inconsistency ; 
 and she was not easily imposed upon by a 
 "holding of the form of godliness," where there 
 was a "denying of the power thereof." 
 
 In regard to church government, she was an 
 Independent, approving of the baptizing of be- 
 lievers and their families, and of the observance 
 of the Lord's supper every Lord's day. She 
 was a member first of the church in Auldkirk. 
 and afterwards of one of the churches in Glas- 
 gow which belong to the Congregational Union 
 of Scotland. In the first letter of hers, which is 
 inserted in this Memoir, she tells us how she 
 came by her principles, namely, by "reading the 
 Bible on her knees." Besides other books al- 
 
MRS. EWING. 41 
 
 ready mentioned, the following may be mention- 
 ed as having stood high in her favour, and as 
 particularly characteristic of her religious views: 
 "Brief Thoughts concerning the Gospel, and 
 Hinderances to believing it — Dr.Wardlaw on In- 
 fant Baptism — Mr. Monro on the same subject — 
 Thoughts on the Lord's Supper, by a private 
 Christian — Russell's Practical and Consolatory 
 Letters, designed to illustrate the Nature and 
 Tendency of the Gospel — Erskine's Internal 
 Evidence of revealed Religion — Erskine's Essay 
 on Faith — Orme's Catechism on the Constitu- 
 tion and Ordinances of the Kingdom of Christ — 
 Orme's Life of Owen — Orme on the Lord's Sup- 
 per — Orme's Discourses on the Blasphemy 
 against the Holy Spirit ; Divine Influence, and 
 its Connexion with instituted Means." 
 
 Having mentioned Mrs. Ewing's religious con- 
 nexion, it is no more than justice demands to 
 add, that I never knew a brighter example of 
 one who firmly adhered to holy principle, and 
 powerfully recommended holy principle by heav- 
 enly temper. When she confessed her faith, it 
 was "speaking the truth in love," that she 
 " might grow up into him in all things, which is 
 the head, even Christ."* She " warred a good 
 warfare ; holding faith and a good conscience."! 
 But she " did not war after the flesh.":): She re- 
 vered the authority and fulfilled the prediction 
 
 * Eph, iv. 15. f 1 Tim. i. 19. \ 2 Cor. x. 3,. 
 
42 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of our Saviour, in his blessed injunction, "A 
 new commandment I give unto you, That ye 
 love one another ; as I have loved you, that ye 
 also love one another. By this shall all men 
 know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love 
 one to another."* I am happy to say, that 
 though eminent in this, Mrs. Ewing was not 
 singular. It is sometimes insinuated, that keen- 
 ness about correct sentiments is the opposite of 
 an affectionate disposition. I feel called upon 
 to bear my testimony from experience on the 
 other side. I have found those who are most 
 deeply concerned to ascertain the meaning of 
 every Scripture doctrine, most eminent in the 
 exercise of brotherly kindness. Indifference 
 about the truth may speak in a way that shall 
 be very plausible, and very popular, but he who 
 can be pleased with any thing is attached to 
 nothing. That alone is the "bond of perfect- 
 ness," which the beloved disciple expresses with 
 his characteristic fulness and precision, when 
 he says, " Whom I love in the truth ; and not I 
 only, but also all they that have known the 
 truth ; for the truth's sake which dwelleth in us, 
 and shall be with us for evcr."f 
 
 The following extracts of letters, written by 
 Mrs. Ewing at an early period of her religious 
 life, will exemplify at once her natural affection, 
 and her Christian sympathy : — 
 
 John xiii. 34, 35. t 2 John i. 2. 
 
MRS. EWING. 43 
 
 " Edinburgh, Uth February, 1799. 
 
 " My dear , 
 
 " We must acknowledge we know not what a 
 day nor an hour shall bring forth ; we cannot 
 foresee impending misfortunes ; and well it is 
 we cannot, for it would unfit us for duty. Much 
 do I sympathize with you, my dear girl, on this 
 bereavement of a very sincere kind friend. You 
 have been much on my mind since I heard this 
 morning of our loss of our highly valued rela- 
 tion. I know none that will feel it more than 
 you. I pray God that it may be sanctified to you 
 I hope, in taking away an earthly prop, he will 
 lead you to lean upon his own all-sufficient nev- 
 er failing strength. Earthly friends may leave 
 and forsake you, but His truth and faithfulness 
 endureth for ever. Oh that this may now and 
 ever be your stay and trust. Such sudden 
 strokes ought to lead us to examine whether we, 
 if summoned as suddenly to the awful tribunal, 
 are in any measure prepared. Have we fled to 
 Christ, in whose name alone we can be justified ? 
 Is He all our salvation, and all our desire ? What 
 an important question ! Our present comfort and 
 future happiness depend on what we can an- 
 swer, — our present comfort, because if we are in 
 our natural state of enmity against God, we 
 must look on all we meet with, as the wrath of 
 God revealed against us as rebels with whom 
 he will fight, instead of meeting it, and blessing 
 the hand who visits us, as the hand of a kind 
 
44 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Father, who in love is chastening us to bring us 
 nearer to himself :— our future happiness, be- 
 cause we have nothing in ourselves that can 
 make us acceptable in the sight of God. By 
 nature, and a thousand actual transgressions, we 
 are hateful to God, who is of purer eyes than to 
 behold iniquity, and who will consign us to ever- 
 lasting burnings if we have not the perfect right- 
 eousness of our glorious Redeemer imputed to 
 us. To find whether you have good cause to 
 hope this is your case, I refer you to my last let- 
 ter ; not that I pretend to say it will teach you 
 all you should know, but it is all I can say on 
 the subject, and may help you a little. But 
 pray for the teaching of the" Holy Spirit, which 
 is the infallible teacher. I hope, my dear girl, 
 you will not give way to violent grief, though 
 I don't desire you not to feel. I hope you will 
 feel in a manner to be profitable to your soul, 
 and not injurious to your body. Were I with 
 you, I might be enabled to speak more to the 
 purpose ; however, I hope you have comforts 
 and supports of a superior kind to either my 
 conversation or letters. 
 
 "I remain your much attached friend, 
 
 "Barbara Maxwell." 
 
 to the same. 
 "Edinburgh, Tuesday Mght, 1799. 
 
 "I feel an interest beyond expression in 
 
 and just now ; that the Lord may bless this 
 
MRS. EWING. 45 
 
 providence so to them, that they may afterwards 
 have cause to say it has been good for them to 
 be afflicted. David says, ' Before I was afflicted 
 I went astray.' I think I have myself experi- 
 enced much benefit from having been under the 
 smarting rod, and sure I am I see many, many 
 instances daily. Oh that the Lord, in his good- 
 ness and abundant mercy, would add them to 
 the happy number. I hope too, my dear — 
 will learn some useful lesson by being in the 
 house of mourning. Such a distressing scene 
 must solemnize the mind, and make a strong 
 impression. I trust it will not be of the kind 
 that passeth away like the early dew or the 
 
 morning cloud. Believe me ever, my dear , 
 
 " Your affectionate attachedly 
 
 "B. Maxwell." 
 
 The next letter was written on the death of an 
 aunt, and it comes under review now with pe- 
 culiar interest ; because the aunt died, like the 
 dear writer, from^eing overturned in a carriage, 
 and the letter is addressed to her most intimate- 
 ly connected cousin, the aunt's only surviving 
 daughter, who was present, and most deeply 
 affected, in both cases. 
 
 " If it would afford the smallest comfort to 
 
 you, my dearest , I might say much of the 
 
 feelings of my heart on this truly distressing oc- 
 casion. But I know by experience that mere 
 
46 MEMOIR OF 
 
 human sympathy is vain. The Lord alone is a 
 Comforter. Oh that he may pour the balm of 
 consolation into your wounded bosom ! Remem- 
 ber, my sweet girl, the Lord does not willingly 
 grieve us. All is in love. Whom the Lord lov- 
 eth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son 
 whom he receiveth ; our light afflictions which 
 are but for a moment, work for us a far more 
 exceeding, even an eternal weight of glory. You 
 say, my affliction is not light — indeed it is not, 
 till we take it in a comparative view ; then the 
 severest sufferings of a present life, appear noth- 
 ing to that wrath we deserve as the just punish- 
 ment of our sins ; but for a moment, too, in 
 comparison of eternity, though lengthened out 
 to the longest span. They are not joyous, but 
 grievous, nevertheless, they yield, or are calcu- 
 lated to yield, the peaceable fruits of righteous- 
 ness. My prayer is that this may be the blessed 
 
 effect of my dear 's present trial. I durst 
 
 not venture to come to you, as I gladly would, 
 
 had I been well, but I trust mv dearest will 
 
 be supported in another way than I could. Wait 
 on the Lord, and you will find you shall not wait 
 
 in vain. Let me assure you, my sweet , of 
 
 the tender affection of your truly attached 
 friend, 
 
 " Barbara Maxwell." 
 
 The last letter, which I shall insert in this 
 place, is written on a subject of a peculiarly try- 
 
MRS. EWING. 47 
 
 ing and delicate nature, and appears to me to 
 treat it in a manner, equally prudent and con- 
 scientious. It also breathes a portion of the 
 spirit of ardent and devoted piety, which so 
 powerfully glowed in the writer's bosom to the 
 last moment of her life. 
 
 " Ardgowan, May 10, 1801. 
 
 ' My dear , 
 
 " I daresay you would be shocked at your — 's 
 death, and many painful things suggest them- 
 selves when we penetrate into the situation of 
 those who, so far as we know, die in an uncon- 
 verted state ; but we are not called to be judges 
 of others, and we dare not limit the mercy of 
 God ; for though his faithful word (of which, we 
 know, not one tittle shall fall to the ground,) de- 
 clares expressly that there is no other method 
 of salvation but believing in Jesus Christ, and 
 that those who believe not shall be damned; 
 yet we know not but after ability to confess 
 Christ before men is gone, he may be believed 
 on in the heart. Therefore, the call to you, and 
 to me, is, in such cases to ask, Are we ready ? 
 How would it be with me, were my soul called 
 to appear before the judgment-seat of Christ? 
 Have I indeed seen the impossibility of patching 
 up a righteousness of my own in which I durst 
 appear in the presence of God ? Have I felt in 
 myself the truth of what God asserts in his 
 word, that in all things I sin ? and have I in 
 
48 MEMOIR OF 
 
 good earnest fled for refuge to lay hold on the 
 hope set before me in the gospel ? Oh what a 
 
 mercy it is, my dear , that while the Spirit 
 
 of God opens our eyes to see we must despair of 
 hope, or help, in ourselves, it leads us also to 
 the fulness that is in Christ our righteousness. 
 We have broken God's law, and are justly con- 
 demned by it. Christ magnified the law, and 
 made it honourable, so that we are justified by 
 his blood who died in our room. Yea, more, 
 he has received gifts for men, and these gifts 
 may be comprised into grace here, and glory 
 hereafter. That you and I may be partakers of 
 these great benefits, which include unspeakably 
 more than can be conceived, is my earnest prav- 
 er. I am glad you was sorry at leaving - — , on 
 account of missing the ordinance of the Lord's 
 Supper. I hope you have a real relish for all 
 the ordinances of his appointment. Tiie Lord 
 can make up this and every disappointment, and 
 when we can appeal to him, who is the searcher 
 of hearts, that our desire after any thing is be- 
 cause it is a means of communion with him, and 
 that nothing but a call in his providence pre- 
 vents our using this means, we may look up for 
 his blessulg without the means. Your saying 
 you could part without regret from all friends at 
 
 in the prospect of seeing me, gave me no 
 
 pleasure, because, I am sure, you might receive 
 a thousand times more benefit to your soul by 
 their example and conversation, than ever you 
 
MRS. EWING. 49 
 
 could by mine ; and this is the real way to value 
 every thing, not what pleases our foolish fan- 
 cies, and prejudices, and affections,— where can 
 I be, what can I do, or say, or think, most for 
 the glory of God, and the good of my immortal 
 soul ? is the question to ask ; and, this in view, 
 we are in the path to happiness. 
 
 " Believe me, my dear , 
 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 "B. Maxwell." 
 
 When, through the gracious providence of 
 God, I obtained that union with the subject of 
 this Memoir, which proved the great solace of 
 my life, and one of the most important advan- 
 tages to my ministry, and to my own soul, for 
 nearly six-and-twenty years ; I was aware of 
 her distinguished Christianity, and of her good 
 sense, good temper, and captivating manners ; 
 but I had no idea of the number and degree of 
 other valuable qualities, in which I was delight- 
 ed to find her so eminently excel. Every day 
 we lived together, I wasjjsurprised with her ele- 
 gant, and liberal, yet judicious and effective, do- 
 mestic economy : her knowledge of business, 
 which not only exempted me from all careful- 
 ness about my little temporal concerns, but 
 would have qualified her to manage the affairs 
 of any establishment, however eminent and 
 wealthy ; her turn for medicine ; her affection- 
 E 
 
50 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ate care of the sick ; her ingenuity, and unwea- 
 ried vigilance, in using means for their comfort 
 and relief; her success in finding employment 
 for the industrious, and in making provision for 
 the poor. 
 
 While she incurred no expense unnecessarily, 
 she spared none, where the interests of religion 
 were concerried. She was particularly desir- 
 ous that I should purchase every book, which 
 could be at all subservient to my assistance, in 
 the study of the Holy Scriptures. The num- 
 ber, or the price, was nothing ; utility alone was 
 to be considered. I need not say how gratify- 
 ing this disposition was to me ; how congenial 
 to my habits; how important to any one engag- 
 ed in the duties of the ministry of the gospel ! 
 Every hour of the day, when I betake myself to 
 my library for instruction, for relief, and for 
 comfort, it proves deeply affecting to recall the 
 interesting thought, that I was always urged by 
 her whom I mourn, to extend the limits of such 
 a valuable resource. 
 
 What I owe to my departed companion for 
 personal attentions, I shall not attempt to speak 
 of in this Memoir; for I shall never be able, as 
 long as I live, sufficiently to express it. But 
 iherc is one point, more interesting to me than 
 any thing personal, on which, though equally 
 unable To do her justice, I feel it impossible to 
 keep silence. She gave her hand to one who 
 was a widower and a father. She became not 
 
MRS. EWING. 51 
 
 only the affectionate wife to me, but the moth- 
 erly hearted, the genuine parent of an only child, 
 whose own mother had died at her birth, and who, 
 being still in a very early period of her youth, 
 could not know, far less acknowledge her obli- 
 gations to her new benefactor. Never did moth- 
 er pay more tender attentions, exercise more 
 fostering care, display more enlightened judg- 
 ment, evince more Christian faithfulness, or more 
 truly " travail in birth again," in the scriptural 
 sense, " until Christ was formed in her," than 
 she did to that child. In such an undertaking, 
 she could not but have a mother's cares, and la- 
 bours, and trials. I bless God I am able to add, 
 that she also had a mother's, a Christian moth- 
 er's, reward. For years before she died, she 
 had the unspeakable satisfaction of seeing (as 
 she warmly declared on every occasion,) the 
 most pleasing result of her parental exertions. 
 To her last hour there existed not a fonder 
 mother for her child, and her child's husband, 
 and their dear children! — and the filial reve- 
 rence, and affection, and gratitude, which, in 
 joy and in sorrow, they have cherished in return, 
 endears all parties, whether among the living or 
 the dead, to the heavy heart of the once more 
 widowed father. 
 
 In proof of the maternal kindly feelings spok- 
 en of above, I insert an extract of a letter from 
 Mrs. Ewing to my daughter, on her return home 
 by Edinburgh to Durham, after she and her 
 
52 MEMOIR OF 
 
 husband and two boys, had paid us a visit, a 
 short time before the birth of her daughter, who 
 is since dead. Other proofs of the same kind 
 will be given afterwards. 
 
 " Glasgow, Sept. 28, 1826, 
 "My dear Jessy, 
 
 " Both your letter from Edinburgh, and the 
 other from Durham, afforded us pleasure, and 
 caused thanksgiving to our God, for his contin- 
 ued care and kindness to you and yours ; and 
 we trust, when you have time to give us your 
 Edinburgh news, you will be able to tell us you 
 have not felt the effects of the journey. For 
 you only did we fear for any after consequences, 
 from the very long journey and fatigue with the 
 children. I need not tell you we often think 
 and speak of you, and desire ever to remember 
 you in our prayers. Such an interview as the 
 Lord permitted us to enjoy, must increase our 
 interest, and that sort of minute sympathy in 
 each other's affairs, which correspondence does 
 not altogether supply. Many things remind us 
 of the children. Greville's horse, with four legs, 
 still lies on the gravel at Corkerhill, and the pa- 
 per house I cut for him is hung to an empty cot- 
 ton bobbin ; and when the honey spoon is re- 
 moved alter breakfast, or any sweet thing 
 appears after dinner, then James's voice, and his 
 trot into the room to Gan-ma, is brought vividly 
 to mind. The parents are not forgot either, 
 
MRS. EWING. 53 
 
 especially the gratification of seeing you con- 
 veying to your son the knowledge of that way 
 of salvation, which for so many years it was my 
 prayer to God you might receive for your own 
 soul. May you be kept by His mighty power, 
 and enabled, with your husband, to abound in 
 the work of the Lord, in your family, and in the 
 station He has placed you in, in his vineyard. 
 And if we should never be permitted to meet 
 again on earth, may we anticipate here, and enjoy 
 hereafter, a glorious and happy meeting, never 
 again to part ! Many kind inquiries have been 
 made for you, all and sundry, as you may be- 
 lieve ; and I greatly delight in the thoughts that 
 you and yours, by this visit, have a greater share 
 in the hearts and minds of many of the Lord's 
 dear praying people— in which I place great 
 confidence. ... We join in love, and kisses to 
 the dear boys. I am, 
 
 " My dear Jessy, 
 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 "B. Ewing." 
 
 It ought to be noticed, that Mrs Ewing was 
 all her life remarkable for her love to children 
 and young people. Had she possessed the most 
 ample fortune, she would have been inclined, in 
 early life, to have spent it on feeding and cloth- 
 ing the children of the poor. This came to be 
 so well understood, that it was alleged the beg- 
 gars sometimes borrowed children from one 
 
54 MEMOIR OF 
 
 another to move her compassion, when a child, 
 by displays of twins, and numerous young fam- 
 ilies. She soon became able to detect imposi- 
 tion, and in no case did she do more good, with 
 judicious economy, than in assisting to provide 
 for the young. But whether assistance was re- 
 quired or not, wherever she met with the young 
 they attracted her regard, and she engaged their 
 attention and affections. She treated them with 
 the most genuine and unwearied kindness ; and, 
 at the same time, had an excellent talent for 
 keeping them in order, superintending their ed- 
 ucation, and training them to useful habits. Nor 
 did she ever cease to take an interest in their 
 welfare. When religious principle was added 
 to natural affection, these exertions were won- 
 derfully increased and improved. I have reason 
 to believe she was the spiritual parent of more 
 than one young person ; and if any have had 
 much opportunity of receiving her instructions, 
 and knowing her manner of life, without deriving 
 any religious benefit, I should fear they were ex- 
 amples of no common hardness. As a speci- 
 men of interest she felt in her young friends, 
 especially in their spiritual welfare, I subjoin a 
 letter written to a young gentleman on going 
 abroad, of which a copy was taken by one equal- 
 ly concerned for his welfare. 
 
MRS. EWING. 55 
 
 TO A YOUNG FRIEND AGOING ARROAD. 
 
 "April 3d, 1821. 
 
 "My dear , 
 
 " Having watched over you and your sister in 
 the year of your infancy with something of a 
 mother's solicitude, I felt more than I wished to 
 express at the idea that I should never see you 
 again when you took leave of me to-day. Most 
 sincerely do I wish you success and comfort in 
 your worldly pursuits ; but I cannot stop there — 
 my heart's desire is, and my prayer for you has 
 been, from your birth, that you may have better 
 blessings than this world can bestow. Remem- 
 ber, my dear , that in leaving this country, 
 
 where Bibles abound, where the gospel is 
 preached, and where you have had many proofs 
 of its transforming influence on the character of 
 those around you who believe it, you cannot 
 leave your responsibility for what you have en- 
 joyed of this — you may be far away from any 
 who will, either by word or look, expostulate 
 with you, if you forget or deride these things 
 among those who do so. But He, who is to be 
 our Judge, he made the eye, shall he not see ? 
 He made the ear, shall he not hear ? He formed 
 the heart, and knows the very thoughts and in- 
 tents of it. This is not revealed to tease us 
 unnecessarily, but to awaken us to prize peace 
 with God above all other things. There is only 
 one way of enjoying that, which the Bible teach- 
 
56 MEMOIR OF 
 
 es us, is by coming to God in the name of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, ' Whoso cometh unto him, he 
 will in nowise cast out.' 'He that believeth in 
 him shall never perish, but shall have everlasting 
 life.' And godliness is profitable for the life that 
 now is, as well as that which is to come. None 
 are really safe and happy but those who have 
 God for their friend — who has all power in 
 heaven and in earth — and taste and see that God 
 is good; and blessed are all those who put their 
 trust in him. As in all human probability I shall 
 never have another opportunity of addressing 
 you in this world, as I shall be in my grave 
 before you return, I wish you to consider this 
 as the dying testimony of one who loves you. 
 May the Lord watch over you and bless you, 
 and cause the light of his countenance to shine 
 upon you, through all your wanderings in this 
 world, and grant you a place at his right hand, 
 where are pleasures for evermore, when time 
 shall be no more, is the earnest prayer of 
 
 " My dear , 
 
 " Your sincere friend, 
 " Barbara Ewing.'" 
 
 " Accept the little book I send along with this 
 as a token of regard, and read it for my sake." 
 
 But let us enter a wider field. Let us survey 
 the purity, the fervour, the piety, and the benev- 
 olence of her Christian zeal. Her thoughts 
 
MRS. EWING. 57 
 
 and labours by day and night, her chosen theme 
 of animated conversation, and indefatigable cor- 
 respondence, might all be considered as the ac- 
 companiment of these sublime petitions : " Hal- 
 lowed be thy name ; thy kingdom come ; thy will 
 be done on earth as it is in heaven." For missions 
 to the heathen, and the propagation of the gospel 
 at home ; for the opening of sabbath schools ; for 
 the increase of scriptural Christian churches ; for 
 the Congregational Union of Scotland ; forthe en- 
 couragement of the ministers of it, in all their pas- 
 toral and all their itinerant labours ; for the edu- 
 cating of their children, and the support of their 
 widows ; for their own support both in health 
 and sickness ; and forthe means of training oth- 
 ers, like minded, to succeed to the labours of pre- 
 decessors, or to increase the number of fellow-la- 
 bourers, and to enlarge the sphere of exertion ; for 
 any, or all these objects, nay, for all objects of a 
 similar nature, her heart and hands, her prayers 
 and means, her influence with others, as well as 
 her personal efforts, were always so quickly, 
 easily, and successfully brought to bear, that she 
 constantly reminded me of her family motto, " I 
 am ready," or rather of the language of the 
 apostle, " ready to every good work."* 
 
 Soon after the association of the Congrega- 
 tional Union of Scotland, to assist the smaller 
 
 Tit. iii. 1. 
 
58 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and poorer churches in supporting their pastors, 
 and defraying other expenses incident to the 
 propagation of the gospel, and the maintenance 
 of its institutions, it appeared very desirable to 
 form a fund for our ministers' widows, and for 
 superannuated ministers themselves. But it 
 was evident, that where the numbers were so 
 few, it could not be raised, or supported by the 
 rates of payment alone which could be demand- 
 ed from the parties immediately concerned. 
 Among other means of aiding the scheme, Mrs. 
 Ewing, at the suggestion of her niece, Mrs. Stir- 
 ling, engaged fifteen ministers to contribute one 
 sermon each, to a volume of sermons, to be pub- 
 lished by subscription, for the benefit of this 
 widows' and ministers' fund. While these were 
 in the press, she made application in all quarters 
 in England and Scotland, for subscriptions for 
 the volume ; and with the assistance of some 
 kind friends, whose aid she solicited, she was 
 able to dispose of the whole impression, without 
 the agency of a single bookseller, within a very 
 few months after it was printed ; and she had 
 thus the satisfaction of procuring for the fund 
 the clear profit of £418 : : lOd., besides giving 
 the authors an opportunity of preaching the gos- 
 pel to many in various parts of the world, to 
 whom they could not have otherwise had ac- 
 cess. 
 
 It was a mutual comfort to Mrs. Ewing and 
 me, that during our married life, we were sel- 
 
MIIS. £W1N0. .59 
 
 dom separated ; but she never grudged my ab- 
 sence, when it was occasioned by calls of evan- 
 gelical duty. Most cordially did she consent to 
 my repeated journies to England to attend the 
 anniversary meeting of the London Missionary 
 Society, and the auxiliary anniversary meetings 
 at Hull and Chester ; also to engage in a tour 
 in Norfolk and Suffolk, with a visit to Cam- 
 bridge, and one to Leicester, on my return, to 
 preach, and to make collections for the Congre- 
 gational Union; to various parts in Scotland 
 also, as, at one time, a tour in Stirlingshire, at an- 
 other, in the Highlands of Perthshire, and again, 
 round the east coast, as far as Inverness. 
 
 But travelling having been at last recommend- 
 ed for Mrs. Ewing's health, I had the pleasure 
 of seeing her form a plan, by which we might 
 pursue, at the same time, her personal benefit, 
 and the object increasingly dear to her heart, 
 the promoting of the work of God in different 
 places by the preaching of the gospel. From that 
 period, she and her cousin, who staid with us, ac- 
 companied me for a portion of some successive 
 seasons, in various excursions for these united 
 purposes. One of these in Ayrshire, Dumfries- 
 shire, and Galloway, carried us to the extremity 
 of the south of Scotland. Another season, we 
 went a still more extensive journey, through sev- 
 eral parts of the North, till we reached the ex- 
 tremity of the county of Caithness. 
 
GO MEMOIR OF 
 
 I never saw any person so truly happy as my 
 beloved wife was during these journies. Be- 
 sides quantities of tracts, which she distributed 
 on the road, she sewed numbers of them in 
 small volumes, to be left with pastors and Sab- 
 bath-school teachers, for lending to the people 
 of their charge, or others in the neighbourhood. 
 She delighted in daily opportunities of public 
 worship, hearing the gospel preached in desti- 
 tute and sequestered places, visiting the church- 
 es, conferring with the pastors, and other Chris- 
 tian friends, on all their encouragements, and 
 all their trials, and suggesting additional means 
 of usefulness. A conveyance was always in at- 
 tendance, but she was an excellent walker. It 
 was an exercise essential to her health ; and she 
 went along so easily and lightly, as never to be 
 heated, far less fatigued. She loved to see me go- 
 ing with my brethren in their usual style of labour. 
 With a walking party she could enjoy much more 
 conversation. Although in crowded roads, there- 
 fore, and long journies, or when limited in time, 
 she submitted to proceed more privately and rap- 
 idly ; yet she no sooner got into those parts of 
 the country where daily opportunities of preach- 
 ing might be obtained within the distance of a 
 stage, than she proceeded on foot. I have known 
 her walk eighteen miles in a day ; all the while 
 maintaining the most useful conversation, quite 
 alive to the exercises of public worship in the 
 evening, and ready to start at any hour next 
 
MRS. EWING. €1 
 
 morning to pursue a similar course. In one of 
 these journies, she walked above eighty miles in 
 this manner, and returned home full of health 
 and spirits, and more interested than ever in the . 
 propagation of the gospel. I cannot express 
 how much her company cheered me in my itin- 
 erant labours ; while the acquaintance she form- 
 ed with persons and places, rendered her subse- 
 quent extensive correspondence eminently and 
 permanently useful to many of our brethren. 
 
 It required not, however, the excitement of 
 travelling to draw forth her interest in the 
 preaching of the gospel, and in all the ordinan- 
 ces of Christian fellowship. She was a steady,, 
 humble, affectionate, and zealous member of 
 the church of Christ, first at Auldkirk, and then 
 at Glasgow. She had, from first to last, a strong 
 and growing sense of the importance of stated 
 public worship, purity of communion, non-con- 
 formity to the world, and the acknowledgment 
 of no authority in sacred things, but that of 
 Christ, as expressed in his own word. Ever 
 since I knew her, the Christian exercises of the 
 Lord's day were her highest enjoyment in life ;. 
 and a silent Sabbath was the bitterest ingredient 
 in the cup of her affliction. 
 
 In the year of 1824 we had a very interesting 
 journey to London, taking Durham and Cam- 
 bridge in our way, at each of which places wet 
 staid a few days. The immediate object was, to 
 make collections for the funds of the Congrega- 
 
62 MEMOIR OF 
 
 tional Union of Scotland, especially to aid their 
 operations in the Highlands and Islands. We 
 accordingly made collections at Cambridge, in 
 many chapels of London and its neighbourhood, 
 and at Sheffield on our return. We had also an 
 opportunity of attending the solemnities of Mr. 
 Orme's settlement at Camberwell ; an event 
 which we deplored as a loss to Scotland, while 
 we believed it would turn out, as indeed it has 
 done, to the furtherance of the Gospel. We 
 had, in the course of this journey, much blessed 
 intercourse with many old Christian friends, as 
 well as with many whom we had never seen be- 
 fore ; and Mrs. Ewing was particularly struck 
 with the contrast, on revisiting the great metrop- 
 olis, as the residence of so many who were em- 
 inent for piety and usefulness, which she had 
 formerly known chiefly as the centre of at- 
 traction to the great and the gay world. In a 
 letter to my daughter, dated Hackney, 28th of 
 October, 1824, she says, " Our heavenly Father 
 adds much to the enjoyment of his people by 
 the love he inspires them with to one an- 
 other. We are here in this city experiencing 
 much of this. O how strikingly different are 
 the pleasures now afforded, to those so called, 
 which I was so intoxicated with when a girl here* 
 Many of the places I see, and pass by, I trust, 
 awaken gratitude to God for his mercy in de- 
 livering me from ignorance as dark as heathen- 
 ism." 
 
MRS. EW1NG. 
 
 G3 
 
 These journies enlarged the sphere of her cor- 
 respondence to a very great degree. She had 
 known many ministers of the gospel, from the 
 time they had studied for the ministry at Edin- 
 burgh, or Glasgow ; and not a few of whom had 
 been students in the Theological Academy, be- 
 longing to our own connexion. On seeing many 
 of them in their pastoral charges, and getting 
 acquainted with their families, and their situa- 
 tion, various communications seemed desirable, 
 on both sides, for promoting plans of usefulness. 
 Her correspondence with the ministers of the 
 Congregational Union became general and con- 
 stant. The increasing labour of it she was in- 
 defatigable in sustaining ; and she despatched 
 it with a celerity which, in some degree, coun- 
 terbalanced its increase. Nor did she confine 
 herself to ministers at home. Some of our stu- 
 dents had gone abroad as missionaries, with 
 whom she maintained (as they gratefully con- 
 fess) a more regular correspondence, and one 
 conveying more interesting information, than 
 most of the other acquaintances they had left in 
 this country. Her letters never degenerated in- 
 to common-place remark ; but always turned on 
 real business, or proposals of practical utili- 
 ty, for which her resources seemed never to fail ; 
 and the success with which she was rewarded 
 often reminded me of our Saviour's reproof; 
 "O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou 
 doubt?" 
 
64 
 
 ME. VOIR OF 
 
 Every year, she had the pleasure of attend- 
 ing the annual meeting of the Congregational 
 Union of Scotland alternately in Edinburgh and 
 Glasgow. On these occasions, which occupy 
 two days, there is a Sermon in the evening of 
 the first, a prayer-meeting next morning before 
 breakfast, a Sermon in the middle of the day, 
 and a meeting in the evening, at which the Re- 
 port of the Committee is read, and several min- 
 isters and other members, from all parts of the 
 country, address the audience. Mrs. Ewing 
 greatly enjoyed the mass of religious intelli- 
 gence brought forward, and the harmony and 
 brotherly love, and joy and 'sympathy, manifest- 
 ed at these meetings ; and although she had not 
 always sufficient strength to attend the prayer- 
 meeting in the morning, yet she felt the great- 
 est delight in it when she could attend, and a 
 most lively interest in its exercises, even when 
 she could not be personally present. 
 
 Besides this anniversary season of enjoyment, 
 on account of what was going on in her own 
 religious connexion, she took an active part, in 
 occasional calls for exertion, and in plans of 
 general co-operation among Christians. She 
 zealously engaged in a sale of Ladies' work in 
 Glasgow, in aid of the funds of the Glasgow 
 City Mission, and superintended one of the ta- 
 bles at that sale. She officiated, along with sev- 
 eral friends, in the same way at Edinburgh, in 
 April 1827, at a sale of Ladies' work made there, 
 
MRS. EW ING. 
 
 65 
 
 to assist in promoting the gospel in the High- 
 lands and Islands of Scotland by itinerant 
 preachers and teachers, who are acquainted 
 with the Gaelic language. A sketch of the la- 
 bours of the ministers, supported from the pro- 
 ceeds of that sale, has since been circulated, 
 and the ladies who conducted it have requested 
 the aid of their friends, and all interested in the 
 Highland itinerancies, towards another sale for 
 the same object in March, 1829, for which Mrs. 
 Ewing was making preparation at the time of 
 her death, and remembered, as we shall see, in 
 her last hour ; and which, I hope and pray, the 
 Lord may countenance and bless, by the instru- 
 mentality of others who remain, although their 
 willing associate has been removed. 
 
 Amidst all the occupations of a truly public 
 spirit, my dear partner was strongly attached to 
 the habits of private domestic life. Attention 
 to relative duties, she was always ready to pay, 
 whether at home or abroad ; but neither health 
 nor inclination admitted of her going much into 
 company. She formed few, but very ardent and 
 faithful friendships. To all the interests of her 
 friends she was quite as attentive as if they had 
 been her own ; most ingenious in finding oppor- 
 tunities and means of serving them ; highly 
 gratified with every service they rendered to her, 
 or at her request to others for whom she had 
 made application. Kind and thoughtful consid- 
 ration of others, before herself, was indeed one 
 
66 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of the most prominent features in her character. 
 She delighted to observe their usefulness ; she 
 rejoiced in their honours ; and stood firmly by 
 them, when she saw them unjustly assailed with 
 reproach. She was especially observant of the 
 providential dispensations, which they were 
 called to experience. No one ever more truly 
 exemplified obedience to the Christian precept ; 
 ' Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep 
 with them that weep.' Neither change of place, 
 nor distance of time, could diminish her attach- 
 ments. These it was impossible to satisfy by 
 personal intercourse. Hence, a very great en- 
 largement of her daily correspondence. Had 
 the communications of private friendship alone 
 comprised the whole of her letter-writing, it 
 would have been wonderfully abundant ; she 
 enters so minutely into circumstances, in most 
 of those letters, as to render them unfit for pub- 
 lication ; but, when they can with propriety 
 appear, they are peculiarly interesting. There 
 is a simplicity, a cordiality, a cheerfulness, and 
 a tenderness, which marks them as a most ac- 
 curate transcript of genuine character, and of 
 real life. The two following letters were writ- 
 ten to one of her oldest, and dearest Christian 
 friends, on the death of her husband, after a 
 very short illness. 
 
MRS. EWING. 67 
 
 " Glasgow, 8th Feb. 1825. 
 " My beloved Friend, 
 
 " You will not count as an intrusion, an ex- 
 pression of the deepest sympathy from one whom 
 you have allowed so large a share of your kind- 
 ness and confidence for so many years. I know 
 in like circumstances you would feel for me 
 what I felt for you this morning. My thoughts 
 have not been many moments diverted from you 
 and yours since the post brought the notifica- 
 tion for which I was wholly unprepared. My 
 ignorance of all particulars unfits me to write, or 
 even to know how to think. How cheering to 
 contrast the knowledge of your best, and kindest, 
 and most sympathizing friend. He who has ap- 
 pointed every part of your lot knows every cir- 
 cumstance, every feeling, and can suit his glori- 
 ous consolations to the most trying points of ev- 
 ery sorrow. Blessed be God, you know to 
 whom to go, as a very present help in every 
 trouble, and can plead his promise to answer 
 your prayers, and enable you to glorify his name. 
 I earnestly hope your health will not be over- 
 powered, but that strength according to your 
 day will be granted, and that the Lord will hon- 
 our you to bear a testimony, by your conduct 
 and lips, that shall powerfully convince all, and 
 particularly your own children and family, that 
 the God whom you serve is ' Love ;' and proves 
 this in times the most trying both to faith, 
 and to flesh and blood. I am sure you 
 
68 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 will (as soon as you can think of it) devise some 
 means to relieve my anxiety about your dear 
 self and your two daughters ; next to yourself 
 I dread their suffering in their health. I am 
 sure it will be your prayer and theirs, in which 
 we shall assuredly unite with you, that this dis- 
 pensation may be blessed to your dear son, the 
 sister and brother too ; but I feel I ought to stop. 
 As soon as I hear I will write again to my dear 
 friend ; in the meantime my husband and Jane 
 desire to unite with me in kindest and most 
 sympathizing regards to you and yours, and in 
 prayers that you all may experience that tribu- 
 lafion worketh patience, experience, and hope 
 that maketh not ashamed — the love of God be- 
 ing shed abroad in your hearts abundantly. 
 " I am, 
 
 My very dear friend, 
 
 Yours most affectionately, 
 
 " B. Ewing. 
 " I have been confined for ten days with a 
 rheumatic attack, but am better, and was out to- 
 day for a quarter of an hour." 
 
 " Polloc, 23d Feb. 1825. 
 " My very dear Friend, 
 
 "I feel extremely gratified and obliged for 
 your very kind letter of the 17th, which I only 
 received day before yesterday. I hope you will 
 know that it was detained, and not think I have 
 been so long in acknowledging it. The day I 
 
MRS. EWING. oy 
 
 got it I was fully occupied, for I had to visit 
 three families in affliction, and had some friends 
 to dine with us, and we left Glasgow yesterday 
 morning at ten, and came round by Corkerhill 
 to get some advance made in preparation to get 
 there as soon as possible, before coming here, 
 where we spent last week, and where we shall 
 remain till Friday. I was truly glad to see your 
 own handwriting, and desire to give thanks for 
 all the comfort your letter contains. The stroke 
 has been sudden and solemn, and the Lord 
 knows and wills that such things must be deeply 
 felt, but he has granted a number of mercies to 
 be mixed, that I trust my dear friend now feels 
 and acknowledges, and which may be matter of 
 everlasting praise. That your own beloved 
 daughter should have been honoured to testify 
 the grace of Christ and lift up her soul in prayer 
 at such a time, and under such circumstances, 
 must have been joy to your soul under the deep- 
 est grief. Her father's expressing his wish she 
 should not leave him, too, must have inspired 
 a hope, which the efficacy of Divine grace, and 
 the sovereignty of Divine power, proves our war- 
 rant to cherish. You must be sensible how im- 
 portant it was, the faculties of the mind being 
 entire ; for it is much more frequent that in cases 
 of such rapid termination it is far otherwise. I 
 notice, and sympathize with you in what you 
 say of conscious failure in duty to your hus- 
 band's soul. We cannot part with any friend 
 
ro 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Without feeling we have come short either by 
 precept or example, O that every admonition 
 thus received may stir us up to renewed activity 
 and increased prayer, that God may enable us 
 to redeem the short period of remaining strength 
 granted, to his glory and the good of every soul 
 we have access to ! This is the true way to 
 evince our regret for what may have been defi- 
 cient in the past. I often think it is a device of 
 Satan to divert from present duty by unavailing 
 grief for what we cannot recall, and his end is 
 gained as much by too much as too little feeling 
 on the point; and the former has so much the 
 semblance of great devotedness to God, that it 
 deceives better, and lulls conscience asleep. I 
 never saw any thing like this in you ; but I see 
 so much of it, that I am sure you will not be dis- 
 pleased with my stating my sentiments on the 
 subject to you. 
 
 "I shall address this to Edinburgh, as you 
 wrote you was to spend some days this week 
 with your daughter; I feel pleased to think of 
 your now, while I am writing you, enjoying the 
 solace of her society. It was a great relief to 
 me to hear she had not suffered in her health. 
 You say nothing particular of either yourself or 
 
 J a, but I trust both are as well as I wish 
 
 you, both in soul and body. I hope when you 
 can think of it, you will make it a part of your 
 plan to give us a share of your time. Remem- 
 ber, my very dear friend, no one has coveted 
 
MRS. EWING. 71 
 
 more or had less of your society during the last 
 twenty five years. We wish to go soon to the 
 country, but cannot exactly fix our plans, as 
 Mr. Ewing is under engagement to preach a 
 Sabbath soon in Edinburgh, and as I have pro- 
 mised Mr. to pay him a visit to see my 
 
 grandnieces and nephew before they leave 
 Heriotrow. I plan making my time to suit 
 either this engagement of Mr. Ewing's, or the 
 Congregational Union Meeting, when I know 
 when that will be. Whenever it is, I shall look 
 forward to seeing you, and hearing when you 
 will be able to come to us. You bid me tell you 
 particularly about my health ; I have been 
 greatly better last week and this — I had a very 
 sharp bilious attack, which at first put on the 
 appearance of inflammation, and then a very bad 
 cold, with so much rheumatism in my head, 
 and feverishness, that I was reduced both in 
 flesh and strength ; but I am now making up 
 quickly. — By the first opportunity, I shall have 
 the pleasure of sending you the Service of Mr. 
 Orme's settlement at Camberwell, at which Mr. 
 Ewing having had a part, you will not wonder 
 I like you to see it, as I always have that desire. 
 " We expect a Deputation from the Irish 
 Evangelical Society this week in Glasgow, and 
 
 hope we shall have Mr. for our lodger ; I 
 
 think you heard and liked him when in Edin- 
 burgh two years ago. 
 
72 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " Miss C. and Mr. E. unite with me in kindest 
 and best wishes to you and yours ; and, I am, 
 "My very dear friend, 
 
 "Your truly affectionate friend, 
 "B. Ewing." 
 
 For several years, we spent the summer in the 
 country, on account of Mrs. Ewing's health. 
 We always got a situation so near Glasgow, as 
 to admit of my attending my usual duties to the 
 church, and the academy ; and while I could 
 pursue my private studies with less interruption, 
 the health of both was benefited, and my dear 
 companion at once enjoyed her beloved retire- 
 ment, and maintained a more extensive corres- 
 pondence than ever with friends at a distance. 
 For the last four years, she felt herself particu- 
 larly happy in having got our summer quarters 
 on a farm belonging to her brother, with the 
 place of her birth in view, her native fields to 
 range in, and her nearest relatives within a few 
 minutes' walk. It had been her lot, from her 
 infancy, to reside in remarkably fine situations. 
 She had been accustomed to all the beauties 
 and sublimities of our picturesque country. 
 These she thoroughly understood, and keenly 
 relished, and was early favoured to enjoy with a 
 purifying and enhancing influence, not unknown 
 to any who" are taught of God. But to return 
 to the beautiful and classic grounds of the place 
 of her nativity, where every spot was connected 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 73 
 
 with some dear and early association ; to gather 
 honey suckles and roses in places which she re- 
 cognized as the walks and rides of her child- 
 hood and youth ; to go from field to field, where 
 she was accustomed to see the game springing 
 and starting before her; to visit the Rannan, 
 and the Avenue, and the old gigantic Elms, and 
 the Majestic Wood which towers above the gar- 
 den, and the Shaw-holm, and the Sheep-park, and 
 Bangor's -hill, and Crookston Castle; nay, even 
 within what we called our own premises, to pur- 
 sue daily the more homely paths along the plough- 
 formed ridges, or on the banks of the river Cart, 
 or to the top of the Corker-hill; to mark the ag- 
 ricultural operations of the season, the progress 
 of the crops, the swells of the undulating sur- 
 face of the neighbourhood, the far-stretch- 
 ing vales, the immense ramparts of the border- 
 ing hills, and the peaks of the distant moun- 
 tains in every direction :— all this gave exquisite 
 delight: I shall ever cherish the recollection : — 
 but often it overwhelms me to see her nimble 
 gait, to hear her lively talk, to think of her con- 
 versation, at all times so superior on every sub- 
 ject, and never more so than with a family par- 
 ty, or with her friend alone ; to recollect many 
 an advice, many a kind entreaty, many an en- 
 couraging hope, which she faithfully tendered : 
 yes, and many a song of joy, many a hymn and 
 psalm of praise, which her clear liquid voice, and 
 G 
 
74 MEMOIR OF 
 
 her affectionate ardent spirit, compelled me at 
 once to admire, and humbly to accompany ! I 
 see, but the form vanishes ; I hear, but the sound 
 dies away ; I cannot answer, for she waits not 
 my reply ; I cannot sing, for the effort deprives 
 me of utterance, and sometimes almost of the 
 power of respiration ! One thing, however, 
 comes to my relief. I never heard her speak as 
 if there was any place which she could not 
 leave, or any friend from whom, at God's com- 
 mand, she could not consent to be separated, at 
 least for the present life. She was pleased with 
 her lot, but she confessed herself a stranger, 
 and a pilgrim on earth. While she adored the 
 Creator, she bowed to the righteous sentence, 
 which hath made the creature subject to vanity. 
 She knew how frail we are ; she admired divine 
 workmanship in the humblest wild flower that 
 caught her eye, — yet the sun in the firmament 
 could not tempt her to forget that all these 
 things shall be dissolved. She was ever ready 
 to console herself, and to animate me, with the 
 Christian's triumph: "Nevertheless we, ac- 
 cruing to his promise, look for new heavens, 
 and a new earth, wherein dwellcth righteous- 
 ness."- 
 
 The following letter, written to the same dear 
 friend as the two preceding ones, when we had 
 just removed to the country, for the last time, 
 
 2 Peter iii. 13. 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 
 75 
 
 will, in some measure, exemplify the details I 
 have given. 
 
 " Corkerhill, Uth May, 1828. 
 " My very dear Friend, 
 
 "I have seated myself to ohey you, in writing 
 you, the very first moment I could seize, since 
 receiving your very kind note of Saturday's 
 date, which I did on Monday ; but that was a 
 day of very great bustle, as we were leaving 
 Carlton-place, not again to sleep there, while 
 the smell of the painting of Mr. Ewing's study 
 continued, — and yesterday was fixed down with 
 business I could not let stand another day. The 
 unfavourable weather has been much against 
 my dear husband, who is still feeling his chest, 
 and occasionally coughing, though he has been 
 once or twice a clay without coughing ; he has 
 been at other times very poorly, and in a fever- 
 ish, sleepless state. On the whole, I do dope he is 
 gaining strength by country air and exercise, 
 and on Friday at the church meeting, on Sabbath 
 both parts of the day, he was so very animated, 
 his people will hardly believe he is yet so poor- 
 ly. Our surgeon has begun him with a new 
 medicine, to which I trust the Lord may give 
 more efficacy than to any former one, though 
 he seems to think the advance of the season, 
 and the pure air here, is the only thing that will 
 restore him. Jane has had a sore throat, but has 
 never confined herself for it, and it is nearly 
 gone she says. I have been much in my usual 
 
76 MEMOIR OF 
 
 way, not very stout, and not very ailing; at 
 least, not so as to confine me to the house. 
 
 " In spite of the cold air, the country is look- 
 ing lovely. The gean trees,* and birches, look- 
 ing very gay in the copse woods, and the apple 
 blossoms, shewing their blushing beauties either 
 open or budding. Many of our shrubs round 
 our bird's nest here, are full of flowers ; and the 
 country, generally green, now looks so much 
 more clothed, I wish you could see it. How 
 beautiful God makes this world, in spite of all its 
 sinfulness ! What will that paradise above be, 
 where there shall be nothing to hurt or destroy, 
 where shall flow rivers of pleasure for ever- 
 more ! I am glad to find you read Orme's Dis- 
 courses, I liked them so much. We are in 
 hopes of a visit from him. I have written to 
 entreat him to take some relaxation from his 
 very great labours, and give us the benefit of his 
 company, which we greatly prize, whilst he vis- 
 its Glasgow. He is a most delightful compan- 
 ion. If he preaches in Edinburgh, I will let you 
 know, as one seldom sees such a union of talent 
 and fervent piety, and scriptural research and 
 simplicity. We join in love and kindest respects 
 
 to you and your daughter, and Miss , when 
 
 you see her; and believe me, 
 
 " My very dear friend, 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 " B. Ewing." 
 
 The wild cherry. 
 
MRS. EWING. 77 
 
 I shall add one more letter to this beloved 
 correspondent, the perusal of which has been 
 most deeply affecting to myself. The reader 
 will not wonder at this, when I copy the memo- 
 randum prefixed to it by the affectionate pos- 
 sessor. " The last letter I ever received from 
 her who is now in glory. Dear, kind, lamented 
 friend, O to join you, at the day of the Lord ! " 
 There is also the touching complaint of declin- 
 ing strength ; the felt burden of increasing la- 
 bour ; her concern for my health, and the poor 
 state of her own ; yet her sympathy with all her 
 companions in tribulation, with one, soon after 
 left a widow, and with a young Christian, op- 
 posed in the path of duty by her own father ; 
 her delight in the success of our itinerating 
 ministers ; her confidential detail of avocations 
 which she never expected should meet the eyes 
 of the public ; and, amidst all her laborious let- 
 ter-writing, the length of this hasty letter to her 
 friend, of which, ample as they are, I give ex- 
 tracts only ; it seems as if she could not short- 
 en, however pressed for time, the communica- 
 tion to so dear a friend, although she could have 
 no conception that it was to be her last. 
 
 " Corkerhill, 30th July, 1828. 
 " My very dear Friend, 
 
 " Our letters so often cross on the road, that 
 it would not be easy to ssy, who should write 
 next if we felt any ceremony : but that not being 
 
78 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the case, I often feel when I begin to write, 
 that there is some hope you may, at the very 
 same time, be wielding your pen for my behoof! 
 I meant to have written sooner, but I am one 
 way or other kept so busy, that my intentions 
 are generally delayed by the circumstances of the 
 day, till when I do make an effort extraordinary, 
 and open the letter that is to be answered, the 
 first thing that strikes me is, the old date of it. 
 But instead of apologies, which would require 
 to be made every time, I hope you will always 
 believe the will is never wanting to keep up a 
 close correspondence, but the power. And that 
 is decreasing, both from age unfitting me for so 
 much exertion, and the additional time that it 
 requires to go over my correspondents' letters 
 from their increase. The succession of students, 
 and their going to different fields of labour, 
 causes two or three new ones every year. Then 
 you know there are numerous tilings beyond our 
 own family, and our own circle, that I am called 
 to take a share in. You will have an instance 
 of this along with this very epistle. I send you 
 the little account printed of the itinerancies 
 which were supported from the proceeds of the 
 sale. You will see, that, as another is proposed 
 next spring in Edinburgh, I have had a few lines 
 to write to each of the hundred and fifty sent 
 to me for distribution, and besides these few 
 lines for general use, I have on hand a number 
 of letters to write to such as I wish to beat up 
 
MRS. EWING. 79 
 
 in their vicinity for contributions towards it. By 
 
 a letter from Mr. S , in which he tells me he 
 
 is carrying up H di to see you, I find you are 
 
 returned to Edinburgh. I wish much to hear 
 
 how poor Mrs. C is, and if she has now any 
 
 intention of going to London for a consultation. 
 
 I hope to hear colonel H has recovered this 
 
 recent fit of illness, and that his wife has been 
 supported under the anxiety she must have suf- 
 fered. I can sympathize with her from the 
 state of my dear husband was in for months. I 
 hope I may speak of it now as the past. He 
 certainly is very much better, and I even think 
 gaining a little of his lost flesh and strength. 
 May the Lord keep me from forgetting the 
 threatening, and enable us to praise him with 
 our hearts, and lips, and lives. 1 was surprised 
 
 at you, my dear friend, going into Mr. B 's 
 
 place of worship, after learning the dangerous 
 state it was in. I think such rashness is not 
 trusting, but tempting Providence. And I am 
 persuaded Mr. B. has the good sense to teach his 
 people this, and therefore I trust you will not 
 again be in such danger. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear of the state J a's 
 
 friend in the north is in, but hope the Lord will 
 show her her privilege in enduring persecution, 
 and keep her from falling. If she continues to 
 hunger and thirst after these things, she will 
 soon see, that she must obey even a father, only 
 so far as she can by obeying God also ; and if 
 
80 MEMOIR OF 
 
 she is enabled to act consistently, she will find, 
 in pleasing God she will make even her enemies 
 to be at peace with her. In being induced from 
 any fear to forsake the assembling with the peo- 
 ple of God, which is a direct injunction of God's 
 own word, loss will be suffered individually, 
 and that light extinguished, which God calls for 
 to enlighten others in a knowledge of our God 
 and Saviour. I hope my friend J-— a will 
 faithfully call her to attend to this, and that the 
 Lord will honour her in thus delivering her own 
 soul, to lead her friend to comfort and enjoy- 
 ment of the blessing of God, and to extend that 
 blessing to all around. He who calls us to en- 
 dure, is faithful and true, and will cause the 
 Wrath of man to praise him, and restrain the 
 residue. 
 
 " You bid me say how I am in health myself. 
 The late hot, thundery weather has had its usu- 
 al effect on my bilious system, and I have been 
 obliged to resort to medicine more than for ma- 
 ny months. As yet, I have avoided calomel, 
 and hope to do without it. I have never been 
 confined an hour to my bed, or a day to the 
 house, so that I have much cause for thankful- 
 ness. 
 
 " I think I have answered all the queries in 
 your letter, and I could fill my sheet with many 
 gladsome accounts I have had from our minis- 
 ters, who have, in all directions, been making 
 the gospel sound in the ears of their fellow sin- 
 
MRS. KWING. 81 
 
 ners, and where they have seen somewhat of 
 the fulfilment of God's promise, that his word 
 shall not return to him void. But I have four 
 other letters to write, and timo will not admit, 
 especially as I have my sweet widowed friend, 
 
 Mrs. S , staying with me, and she leaves me 
 
 on Friday. Indeed, you will have had your 
 eyes tired with the length of this. We join in 
 love ; and I am, my very dear friend, 
 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 " B. Ewing." 
 
 As I must soon approach the closing scenes 
 of my Memoir, I shall here give three specimens 
 more of my beloved wife's correspondence. 
 They are taken from among her latest letters to 
 my daughter, and have already been promised.* 
 Ttje first was written soon after our return from 
 our last visit to Durham. Mrs. Ewing had been, 
 more than usual, in an ailing way. It was 
 thought a jaunt might be of service,; and wo 
 were both desirous to see my daughter, after 
 the birth of her third child. To render the 
 journey more easy and interesting, we planned 
 going by a new route, making short stages, and 
 forming a few itinerant engagements by the 
 way. Accordingly, I preached at Peebles, Ha- 
 wick, and Kelso, in going; and at Newcastle, 
 
 * See p. 52. 
 H 
 
82 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Berwick, and Portobello, in returning ; at each 
 of which places we stopped for the night. We 
 set out on the 25th of Sept. and returned on the 
 12th of Oct. 1827. On our return, we had very 
 bad weather, and Mrs. Ewing suffered much 
 from illness, both in the journey, and after we 
 got home. She was greatly pleased, howev- 
 er, with the visit to Durham. It gave us an 
 opportunity of seeing the dear little girl, whom 
 we should not have otherwise seen in this world, 
 because, though then in perfect health, she was 
 in the spring carried off by a hooping-cough ; 
 the Lord, we believe, having taken her to him- 
 self. We had also much satisfaction in behold- 
 ing the Christian temper and deportment of our 
 young friends, in the midst of their rising fami- 
 ly, and in the place of their residence ; and es- 
 pecially the growing usefulness of the pastor, 
 and the prosperity of the church under his care. 
 These topics are all referred to in the follow- 
 ing letter to Mrs. Matheson ; 
 
 " Glasgow, 24ft Oct 1827. 
 " My dear Jessy, 
 
 "I did not think, when we parted, that so long 
 a time would elapse before I wrote you — but we 
 know not what a day or an hour may produce. 
 1 rose earlier on Monday week, with the hope 
 and desire that I should begin the letter, Which 
 your father had to write altogether. There was 
 so much to do, it was with difficulty I got in 
 
MRS. EWLVG, Oo 
 
 time to the boat, — and that I may say was my 
 last exertion. I had felt my throat slightly on 
 Sabbath, and was not at all well on Monday, 
 but thought Corker-kill air and quietness, would 
 set all to rights. Instead of this, I became 
 worse and worse, and suffered very great pain 
 with the rose in my head, face, and neck, which 
 fevered me. I am now greatly better, though 
 the swelling is not quite gone, and I am very 
 feeble. Some people say, thus all the ben- 
 efits of your journey is lost. But how do we 
 know, but that for the strength gained by the 
 journey, my frame could not have stood this at- 
 tack ? This I know, the Lord granted me very 
 great enjoyment; and though in all things I 
 come short, I think I may say, filled me with 
 gratitude, for what I saw of his goodness and 
 grace to you and yours. My mind recurred to 
 it in many a painful, sleepless hour, and I trust 
 it will tune a song of praise beyond the limits 
 of this vale of tears. When I contrast my fears 
 and anxieties, and prayers and tears, on your ac- 
 count, with what the Lord has now done in you 
 and for you, I see his ways and thoughts are not 
 as ours. As to temporal things, that even is cause 
 of much thanksgiving compared with many; but 
 especially when I see you devoted to His ser- 
 vice, and honoured to minister to the comfort 
 of one whom his Master is owning so much as 
 a faithful labourer in his vineyard. May the 
 Lord hear prayer for a blessing on your training 
 
84 MEMOIR OF 
 
 your dear children for him. I know and syilr* 
 jpathize in your travailing in birth again for 
 them, till Christ be formed in their hearts, and 
 you have had more advantages than I had of 
 •knowing how to instruct and impress their 
 minds, having been entirely without early cul- 
 tivation myself. I also know you will feel with 
 me, that the highest motive to have them in 
 subjection is, to restrain them from sinning 
 against God. I am delighted to see such 
 warmth of affection in Greville. This will 
 give you a stronger hold than any thing in the 
 world, for he is high spirited. And if you study 
 to be firm with him, you will gain by example, 
 considerably on James. I am sensible you have 
 improved since you were in Scotland, and that 
 you will find the benefit more and more, both to 
 your own comfort and their happiness. I often 
 think I see the group of interesting little faces. 
 A pious wife seems to me peculiarly necessa- 
 ry for a minister. May you and I be honoured to 
 help the faith and joy and spirituality of our dear 
 partners, and we shall receive the benefit even 
 to our own souls, under their ministry. We 
 unite in love to you, Mr. Matheson, and the 
 f'ljiidren : and I am, 
 
 " My dear Jessy* 
 
 "Your truly affectionate, 
 
 " B. Ewitf g." 
 
 
MRS. EWING. 85 
 
 Notwithstanding the serious illness mention- 
 ed in the preceding letter, Mrs. Ewing ventur- 
 ed to take an active part in the sale of ladies* 
 work for the City Mission. Of this some ac- 
 count will be found in the next letter, together 
 with a description of the manner in which, with 
 the aid of some dear friends, we spent the anni- 
 versary of our marriage, which proved to bo 
 the last. 
 
 " Glasgow, 16th Nov. 1827. 
 " My dear Jessy, 
 
 "I am happy to say your father is almost welL 
 I have got quite the better of my last illness, 
 and stood the fatigue of the sale wonderfully. 
 We had three days of it. And next week, on 
 Wednesday, we are all to make an effort to sell 
 off the whole." Then follows a list of the sums 
 already drawn, from which it appeared the total 
 was, at that time, £549 : : Id. " I did not for- 
 get your working society, and shall send you 
 some things for it, which, though trifling, may 
 be patterns ; and, as I do not think you will be 
 able to do much, may be a substitute for your 
 deficiency. I shall delay sending them till I 
 hear from you, in case you wish any little thing 
 that is best got here. 
 
 "We had a very delightful party here yester- 
 day, of our most particular friends, to unite 
 with us in giving thanks to our gracious God, 
 for all his goodness and mercy, during a quarter 
 
86 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of a century that we had been spared together. 
 It was our marriage day." (After mentioning 
 the names of the party, she proceeds.) " You 
 may be sure you and yours were not forgotten ; 
 and Mr. Matheson, and his flock and congrega- 
 tion, were duly remembered also in our prayers 
 and thanksgivings. May all the unmerited good- 
 ness, and long continued kindness of the Lord 
 to us and ours, lead to more zeal and devoted- 
 ness in all of us, and this will assuredly increase 
 our happiness. Our worthy member, old Mrs. 
 
 W n, has fallen asleep in Jesus. Her latter 
 
 end was truly peace. She retained her facul- 
 ties, and her enjoyment of spiritual things, 
 throughout. Indeed, she had no complaint, just 
 wore away from weakness. I am very happy 
 the lady you spoke of liked 'Brief Thoughts.'* 
 I do not know any thing clearer on the subject 
 of the hinderances to believing the gospel. We 
 join in love to you and your fireside ; and I am, 
 " My dear Jessy, 
 
 "Yours very affectionately, 
 
 "B. Ewing." 
 
 In the course of the winter, Mr. Matheson's 
 three children were seized with hooping-cough, 
 which proved fatal to the youngest, Catherine 
 Lawson, in the beginning of March. 
 
 The following is the letter which Mrs. Ewing: 
 wrote to Mrs. Matheson on that occasion: 
 
 See page 41. 
 
MRS. EWING. 87 
 
 " Glasgow, 11th March, 1828. 
 •* My dear Jessy, 
 
 " I feel it no small cause of thanksgiving that 
 3 7 ou know where and to whom to go in this time 
 of trouhle, and that you could tell us you found 
 the Lord a very present help on the very day 
 you had seen your sweet bahe close her eyes on 
 time. We do indeed serve a good Master, and 
 the blessed and glorious hope given in the gos- 
 pel of life and immortality, must cheer the heart 
 even while flesh and blood feels deeply and 
 keenly. I am sure either you or Mr. Matheson 
 will write us again soon, for you will know how 
 much you occupy our thoughts at present. We 
 trust the Lord supported and carried you 
 through the trial and duties of Wednesday. It 
 is pleasant for us to know you are in the midst 
 of kind and sympathizing friends, and above 
 all, to know that you have the care and sympa- 
 thy of Him, who, in all our afflictions, is af- 
 flicted. You will probably before this have got 
 the parcel which I sent off without having time 
 to write, and you will also have got my letter, 
 sent in the last frank I got before my nephew 
 went away. I hope we shall hear the dear 
 boys continue in a mild way; the season is 
 greatly in their favour, though, till within these 
 two days, it has been very cold east wind with 
 us ; but the season is advancing, and I hope will 
 soon be fine. This will be also in your father's 
 favour I trust, for he is still ailing, I am sorry to 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 
 say. My friend, Mrs. T r, and her daughter- 
 are with us ; they go for three days to Ayrshire 
 next week, and these we hope to spend at Cor- 
 kerhill; they and we will meet on Friday, and 
 then I hope the following week,, when they 
 leave us, we shall get permanently to the coun- 
 try, which the doctor thinks will be of great use, 
 and I am sure we shall have your prayers, and 
 those of many, that that may be the blessed 
 means of restoring him to health, and ability for 
 usefulness; for he is very unwilling, even now, 
 to spare himself as much as we all think he 
 should. He has agreed not to go out to-night, 
 and only to lecture on Sabbath. His cough has 
 not, on the whole, been so troublesome for some 
 days, especially in the night, and he slept better 
 last night than for three nights before ; but at 
 times he feels flat and unwell, and then at other 
 times he is as lively in expounding or prayer as 
 you ever saw him. You must excuse the short- 
 ness of this. We join in kindest love and good 
 wishes. Many have been the kind inquiries, 
 and kind wishes expressed for you. I made the 
 intimations I thought you would wish, here, but 
 suppose, as you said nothing of Edinburgh 
 
 friends, Mr. M , took charge of that. 
 
 "I am, 
 
 My dear Jessy, 
 
 Most affectionately yours, 
 
 "B. EwimgJ* 
 
MRS. EWING. 0^ 
 
 Mrs. Ewing's active life was the more remark- 
 able, that she was exceedingly liable to violent 
 indispositions. She must have had an excellent 
 constitution; she possessed great muscular 
 strength ; she required extraordinary exercise, 
 and was always the better of taking it in the 
 open air, and in the country. But, when living 
 in town, especially if confined by bad weather to 
 the house, she experienced many of the distress- 
 ing symptoms of a bilious tendency, which not 
 only overpowered her at the time, but reduced 
 her frequently to a state of great and alarming 
 debility, from which she did not easily or speed- 
 ily recover. At one period she had such a troub- 
 lesome and obstinate cough, that it was feared 
 her lungs were in danger, but happily that fear 
 proved to be groundless. At another period, she 
 was very often afflicted with dreadful headachs ; 
 and afterwards, when these became less severe, 
 and occurred at greater intervals, they were suc- 
 ceeded by very serious indications of liver com- 
 plaint. Yet, in all these illnesses, while inured 
 to severe pain, she was never subject to depres- 
 sion of spirits- Whether it should be ascribed 
 to bodily temperament, or strength of mind, or 
 Christian hope, and divine consolation; or 
 whether we should gratefully acknowledge a 
 happy union of all these blessings, the fact is 
 unquestionable, that she enjoyed a wonderful 
 buoyancy to bear her up under trouble, and 
 never more than when it threatened to prove 
 
90 MEMOIR OF 
 
 fatal. Her invincible patience, and fortitude, 
 and cheerfulness, seemed equal to repel the most 
 formidable assaults of disease, and really to ope- 
 rate as a principle of restoration. Of late years, 
 indeed, she had been gradually getting so much 
 better on the whole, that we were beginning to 
 hope for a greater stability of health in the de- 
 cline of life, than she had ever known before. 
 How far our fond hopes might have been realiz- 
 ed, it has been the will of our heavenly Father, 
 that w r e should not discover. 
 
 The reader will have learned, from some of 
 the preceding letters, that my health had been 
 in a rather declining state from the beginning of 
 the winter of 1827. In the following spring, 
 our medical friends advised my getting soon to 
 the country, and trying change of air and scene, 
 as much as possible, in the course of the sum- 
 mer. This led Mrs. Ewing to take every op- 
 portunity of carrying me from home. We ac- 
 cepted a kind invitation to visit some friends in 
 Arran. We made an excursion to Loch-Lo- 
 mond, and finally to the Falls of Clyde. And I 
 feel it to be one of the bitter ingredients in the 
 cup of my sorrow, that my beloved companion 
 seems to have fallen a victim to her ardent de- 
 sire to complete the re-establishment of my 
 health. 
 
 Writing after the event, I feel it difficult to 
 believe that any of the circumstances which pre- 
 ceded it were not gloomy and ominous. Cer- 
 
MRS. EWING. 91 
 
 'tainly, it befell me in a year crowded with oc- 
 currences of awful visitation. My eldest sister, 
 my youngest grand-child, my only remaining 
 brother, were removed by death within three 
 months after its commencement ; and harvest 
 was not over, when the Lord " took away from 
 me the desire of mine eyes with a stroke."* 
 There were no doubt bright days that summer, 
 and pleasant scenes too which heighten by con- 
 trast the succeeding distress. My departed friend 
 greatly enjoyed, and zealously improved each 
 cheering interval. But her survivor feels, as if 
 he had yielded to a spirit of delusive security, and 
 dangerous infatuation. His mind was easy as 
 to this world, supposing his "help-meet" would 
 take care of him, and his affairs, all his life ; and 
 how far he required to be roused from a spirit- 
 ual lethargy, and to be chastised for his sins, 
 it is perhaps intended he should learn from the 
 blow he has received. 
 
 So far as a fellow-creature can judge, Mrs. 
 Ewing was never in a higher state of readiness 
 to obey the call of her Lord. In the early part 
 of the year, she had revised the arrangement of 
 her temporal affairs. She had examined her pa- 
 pers and letters down to tlic 22d of the month 
 before her death ; burning many, and leaving 
 directions respecting such as she allowed to re- 
 main. In various other respects, she acted like 
 
 Ezek. xxiv. 16. 
 
92 MEMOIR OF 
 
 one who had what has been called a presenti- 
 ment of death ; and yet she was under no alarm, 
 and, to all appearance, bid as fair for life, and 
 improved health, as rn any prior period of our 
 union. On no religious point was there any 
 change in her spirit and conduct; but the 
 most exemplary steadfastness, the most en- 
 ergetic perseverance-, was daily manifested. 
 She was truly a disciple waiting for her Lord. 
 How often did I feel myself humbled by a con- 
 scientious diligence, which was continually leav- 
 ing me far behind ! 
 
 As an introduction to the account of our 
 dreadful calamity, and at the same time a speci- 
 men of her spirit in writing only a few lines, I 
 insert Mrs. E wing's last letter to Mrs. II n : 
 
 "4, Car! Ion-place, Monday, 8th Sept. 1828. 
 " My very dear Friend, 
 
 "We are very sorry to find your dear husband 
 has been suffering so much. We hope to call 
 and see you to-morrow ; but are all of opinion 
 you ought not to propose our dining with you, 
 which we would all hove bad much pleasure in 
 doing, had Mr. H - been well. 
 
 "Our trip to Lanark has bom delayed till 
 Wednesday, on account of the children* having 
 been vaccinated, and Dr. Anderson is to call at 
 eleven to-morrow, to examine their arms, when 
 we could not be absent ; therefore we will not 
 
 * Mr. Cathcart's children, then with us, along with 
 their parents. 
 
tflitS. EWlKii. 
 
 93 
 
 •jome in the boat, but in a coach, and would 
 make it the hour most convenient for you. 
 
 " I hope we mutually remember each other at 
 a throne of grace, and that the Lord will bless 
 the word preached to build up all of us who are 
 in fellowship, and to add to us of those who are 
 yet to be brought in. I grieve at your missing 
 yesterday's lecture. With best love, I am, 
 " My dear friend, 
 
 " Yours affectionately) 
 
 " B. Ewing." 
 
 ^Notwithstanding the above, we did dine the 
 /lay following with our dear friends, and it might 
 be considered as the last dinner, of which she 
 was able to partake. 
 
 In the morning of Wednesday, the 10th of 
 September, 1828, the day of our Journey to the 
 Falls of Clyde, when the coach had come to the 
 door, my dear wife came to me in the study, 
 and said, "Let U3 commit ourselves to God." 
 Little did either of us think that we were now 
 to close those exercises of secret social worship, 
 which always had so greatly enhanced to us the 
 comforts of our sweet home. Standing togeth- 
 er, hand in hand, we spent a few minutes in 
 prayer, committing ourselves, and each other, 
 and our dear fellow-travellers, to God, for time 
 and eternity, and particularly for the excursion 
 on which we were setting out. Alas ! the ex- 
 cursion proved fatal ! What then ? Were our 
 
94 MEMOIR OF 
 
 prayers unavailing? I cannot allow it. Who- 
 ever prays daily, must one day receive, in the 
 providence of God, a similar answer. Death 
 met us ; but (let the reader judge) God did not 
 forsake us. He stood by the sufferer to the 
 last moment, when he took her to himself, 
 Would she not, does she not, join me in say- 
 ing, nothing happened to prevent us from ad- 
 hering to the apostle's testimony: "I know 
 whom I have believed, and am persuaded that 
 he is able to keep that which I have committed 
 unto him against that day."* 
 
 We immediately stepped into the carriage, 
 and drove from the door of that house, which 
 her presence had made a happy dwelling for 
 four and twenty years ; but to which now, she 
 was never to return. She was saved the pain 
 of taking a last look ; and I did not anticipate, 
 that instead of coming back the next day, with 
 my belovcil companion, and her affectionate rel- 
 atives, a happy couple with a joyous family party, 
 I should arrive, at the interval of a week, in the 
 darkness of the evening, a desolate widower, 
 preceded by the lifeless remains of her who was 
 now sitting cheerfully beside me ; accompanied 
 by a fellow-sufferer, bruised, and lame, bereav- 
 ed, like myself, of her most intimate friend upon 
 earth, with whom she had long lived as a sister 
 rather than a cousin ; and leaving the rest of 
 
 2 Tim. i. 12. 
 
MRS. EWING. 95 
 
 the company disabled, near the spot where the 
 death-blow had been given to my beloved wife, 
 and we had all been brought, in a moment, to 
 the brink of eternity. 
 
 During the first stage we met with nothing re- 
 markable. At Wishawtown, we breakfasted, 
 and fed the horses. Before setting out again, 
 the weather, which had been dark and showery 
 in the morning, became fine. We therefore or- 
 dered the top of the carriage to be opened; con- 
 gratulating ourselves on the favourable day for 
 enjoying a view of the country, which becomes 
 so romantic towards Lanark. In perfect safety 
 we descended the many slopes of the road along 
 the high grounds, which hang over the house of 
 Lee ; looking down with impunity over much 
 steeper banks, than that on which we were so soon 
 to be overwhelmed with distress. At the bridge 
 across Cartland Craigs, we left the carriage for 
 a little, and walked to the usual place for taking 
 a passing view of that wonderful ravine. A 
 person whom we met there, kept telling us of a 
 lady who had been killed immediately below, 
 by going too near the edge of the opposite pre- 
 cipice. The story seemed to have made Mrs. 
 Ewing nervous ; for she discovered uncommon 
 alarm, when Miss Cathcart stumbled, as she was 
 turning, in the narrow path, to go away. I smil- 
 ed at Barbara's trepidation, as if danger in our 
 case had been out of the question. 
 
96 MEMbiH 6t 
 
 On arriving at Lanark, we ordered dinner and 
 beds at the inn, intending to remain there that 
 day, and to return, the day following, by Ham- 
 ilton, to Glasgow. We then proposed to take 
 forward the carriage as far as possible, to di- 
 minish the walk the party must have, in view- 
 ing the Falls of Corras and Bonnington, and the 
 mills of New Lanark ; all which we hoped to 
 accomplish before dinner. We had entered the 
 Bonnington avenue — had passed the first, and 
 were approaching the second gate, where stran- 
 gers put down their names,*and proceed on foot 
 to view the Falls of Clyde. We were so near 
 this gate, that, in three minutes, we should, at 
 any rate, have left the carriage till our return* 
 Here there is a descent on the edge of a steep 
 bank ; but the road is good. I had gone the 
 same road before in a carriage, without any dis- 
 aster; the coachman seemed to advance confi- 
 dently, yet slowly, as he had been desired. Mr. 
 Cathcart's servant, who was also on the box, 
 says he proposed to the coachman to put on the 
 drag, who answered it was unnecessary. I can 
 say nothing from my own observation, for I was 
 sitting with my back to the horses. I was on 
 the right hand side of the carriage, which was 
 the side nearest to the declivity ; my wife was 
 next me on my right hand ; and Miss Cathcart 
 beyond her, on the same seat; Mr. and Mrs. 
 Cathcart were opposite. On beginning to de- 
 scend, Mrs. Cathcart, looking forward, said, " I 
 
MRS. EWING. 97 
 
 think wc had better stop, and get out here." 
 Her look rather alarmed me ; but, to the best of 
 my recollection, I made no answer. Presently, 
 my wife said, "It is too late to bid him stop 
 now." In an instant after, I heard both the 
 coachman and Mr. Cathcart's servant begin to 
 scream, in consequence of finding, as I suppose, 
 that the carriage was going off the road. I be- 
 lieve they both leapt from the box, the one to 
 the one side, the other to the other ; but I saw 
 not what they did. I now felt the coach go off 
 the road, fall to the right, first on its side : then 
 turn over, bottom uppermost, and go down the 
 precipitous bank a considerable way immediate- 
 ly above us, and throw us out on the ground 
 with much force ; and finally fall on its side, 
 when it was stopped from falling farther, by 
 some trees, I believe ; and I saw it resting, with 
 Miss Cathcart lying under it, from the breast 
 downwards ; Mr. and Mrs. Cathcart, both evi- 
 dently injured, lying near each other, a little be- 
 hind ; Mrs. Ewing sitting on the bank a little 
 before, and apparently stretching her hand to- 
 wards Miss Cathcart ; while I was left a little 
 higher on the bank, conscious of some sort of 
 shock in my left shoulder, but not, at the time, 
 sensible of any material hurt. I now heard the 
 servant cry, "Miss Cathcart is killed." This 
 called my attention to her perilous situation. I 
 slid down to attempt to raise the coach, and to 
 I 
 
Hg MEMOIR OF 
 
 draw her out from below it ; and, after some in- 
 effectual struggles, with the assistance of the 
 ant, and her own efforts, she was extrica- 
 
 SO j -1 
 
 Eea. 
 
 I then turned towards my wife, whose place 
 was now a little above my position ; and, for 
 
 firgt time, perceived the dreadful calamity : 
 
 right leg broken close by the ankle—the leg- 
 bone protruded far through the skin— the foot 
 quite out of its place— the fracture of the bdne 
 -the laceration of the flesh, and the streaming 
 of the blood— all equally appalling! And yet 
 she was sitting in silence, with perfect compo- 
 sure. To my exclamation of agony, she calm- 
 ly replied, "Yes,— I cannot help it— the will of 
 God be done!" 
 
 he cause of this fatal fracture is not known. 
 Tremendous as the blow must have been, my 
 dear sufferer said to me, "I was not aware of 
 having got any injury, till I found my foot would 
 not serve me, to go to Jane Cathcart." 
 
 I sprung up the bank, and began to run to- 
 
 Is New Lanark, calling out for a surgeon. 
 ] am told Mrs. Ewing said, as I went off, "Is 
 there nobody to go after my poor husband; for 
 he is not able to run in that manner." In a few 
 minutes, a gentleman overtook me, and assured 
 me, that two men had already gone for sur- 
 geons; that they knew where to find them; and 
 That I might depend on their coming with all 
 possible speed. This was most providential; 
 
MRS. EWING. 99 
 
 for I felt myself unable to keep up the pace at 
 which I was running : and I had misgivings of 
 heart, at the thought of leaving my poor dear 
 wife in the hour of her distress, to faint, and to 
 die, perhaps, in the midst of strangers, I hast- 
 ened" back to her ; found her sitting as before, 
 with composure, and patience, and bearing her 
 pain with the most heroic fortitude. The alarm 
 was rapidly spread. From all quarters, friend- 
 ly people began to surround us. For a mo- 
 ment, Mrs. Ewing felt annoyed at the eager- 
 ness with which so many spectators gazed on 
 the whole party, and particularly on her hers slfj 
 whose wound was so severe and manifest. 
 " Oh ! (she said to me) what an exposure ! " Bui 
 when I replied, that she must not mind that, in 
 present circumstances, and placed myself so as 
 to screen her as much as possible, from the pub- 
 licity which she felt to be distressing, she com- 
 plained no more ; submitting to the necessity of 
 the case; and no doubt having her attention 
 withdrawn by the sharpness of the pain, from 
 inferior considerations. The spectators also be- 
 haved with the greatest gentleness, sympathy, 
 and delicacy; and showed the kindest zeal and 
 tenderness in rendering assistance. 
 
 In a wonderfully short time, the assistant of 
 the surgeon at New Lanark came to the spot, 
 and announced the speedy arrival of his princi- 
 pal. Till then, he declined doing any thing 
 himself, and declared, vvnat was indeed very ev- 
 
100 MEMOIR or 
 
 ident, that the sufferers must all he removed to 
 suitable quarters, before they could be properly 
 examined, or any thing done for their relief. I 
 begged the kind bystanders to get a door taken 
 from its hinges, and brought for Mrs. Ewing. 
 This was soon done, and the cushions which 
 had been taken from the carriage being placed 
 on it, she was lifted to it, and sat on them, (for 
 she could not lie down,) with her fractured leg 
 -stretched out before her, and supporting herself 
 behind with her hands ; while the people carri- 
 ed her as well as they could, along the precipi- 
 tous bank, and with no small difficulty reached 
 the road. Her removal to the door ; the jolting 
 irregular steps of the willing, but inexperienced 
 and agitated bearers; and the awkward, unsup- 
 ported position in which she was obliged to re- 
 main for, I suppose, not less than an hour, were 
 all grievous aggravations of her affliction. The 
 bearers required to be changed several times: 
 but no change, so much as of posture, could her 
 situation admit of. She made no complaint ; but 
 it is my wonder that she did not repeatedly faint. 
 She was prevented, I suppose, from doing so, not 
 by the sustenance of bodily strength, but by the 
 excitement of the agony which she must have 
 been enduring. 
 
 The first place to which she was carried, was 
 the Lodge, where visiters of the Falls put down 
 their names. But there was no room there, to 
 receive so much as one. We were, therefore- 
 
MRS. EWING. 101 
 
 obliged to retrace our steps, and to go towards 
 New Lanark. We now met the people, with 
 the rest of our party, coining after us ; and they 
 also were obliged to change their course. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Cathcart, who were the next sufferers 
 to Mrs. Ewing in point of severity, were carried 
 in chairs ; and Miss Cathcart was, though much 
 bruised, capable of proceeding a little way, sup- 
 ported by two men, and was afterwards put into 
 a chaise which had been very promptly sent 
 down from the Inn at Old Lanark. 
 
 Before we left the lodge, the surgeon, whose 
 assistant had already come, reached us. At 
 first, indeed, on overtaking the rest of the party, 
 he thought Mr. Cathcart was the most severely 
 hurt ; and apparently near death. He therefore 
 proposed to examine him immediately. But, on 
 perceiving this intention, Mr. Cathcart said, "Oh 
 no! go first to Mrs. Ewing." He therefore 
 came on to us, and saw the necessity of our pro- 
 ceeding towards New Lanark. And now the 
 question was, where we could be lodged ? There 
 were five to be accommodated. There was no 
 large dwelling house with spare rooms, immedi- 
 ately at hand. None of the managers of the 
 mills had yet been found. Every body was wil- 
 ling to receive us, but nobody could receive us 
 all. And the extremity of the case admitted of 
 no delay. The worthy surgeon offered to take 
 three into his own house, and to carry Mrs. 
 Ewing to a large good room in the neighbour- 
 
102 MEMOIR OF 
 
 hood of the spot where we now were. But she 
 must have been carried up stairs to a fourth 
 floor ; and we shrunk from the idea of being 
 separated. In this dilemma, Braxfield House 
 occurred to us ; a part of it being possessed by 
 Mrs. Owen, our esteemed Christian friend, who, 
 we were sure, would make us welcome. But 
 we were told that she and her family were from 
 home. When we knew not what to do, Mr. 
 Walker, the gentleman to whom the other part 
 of Braxfield House belonged, kindly sent, as 
 soon as he heard of our calamity, to invite us to 
 take possession, and opened it for our reception. 
 And though he was not living in it, at the time, 
 and it was unfurnished, every thing was pro- 
 vided with so much celerity, that the beds were 
 ready almost as soon as the poor sufferers could 
 arrive to be laid on them. 
 
 Notwithstanding these most generous exer- 
 tions, executed, I believe, by the humane orders 
 of the managers, and the compassionate, zealous 
 activity of the numerous and expert workmen 
 of the New Lanark mills, some degree of delay 
 had been unavoidable. Again, and again, a 
 halt had taken place, to inquire where we might 
 go. Consultation, perplexity, various kind offers 
 successively announced to us, and the fluctua- 
 tions of haste and trepidation, in making a selec- 
 tion, consumed the precious moments. 3Iean- 
 while, the alarm was bringing together the nu- 
 merous population of all the neighbourhood. 
 
5IRS. EWING. 103 
 
 The dinner hour sent forth the whole body of 
 Workers, young and old, from the mills. Al- 
 though none annoyed us willingly, the pressure 
 became embarrassing ; it was difficult to get on; 
 and the heat threatened to overpower us. This 
 continued till we were past the mills, and was 
 not quite removed, till we reached Braxfield 
 gate. 
 
 The distance from the fatal spot to Braxfield 
 House is, I suppose, not less than a mile. 
 Throughout the whole of this dolorous way, 
 Mrs. Ewing retained her self-possession. She 
 was attentive to every circumstance, but noth- 
 ing disconcerted her. Her leg was covered on- 
 ly with her handkerchief, from under which the 
 blood was flowing along the door, on which she 
 was carried. Her bonnet had been torn in the 
 fall, and was put off; only her cap remained on 
 her head. I could advert to nothing at the time, 
 except the deplorable circumstances of our situ- 
 ation. But afterwards, when the universal testi- 
 mony of strangers was reported to me, that they 
 had never seen such an expression of united 
 dignity and piety in similar distress before, I 
 could distinctly recollect that her benign coun- 
 tenance had truly appeared to the greatest ad- 
 vantage. This, accompanied by the propriety of 
 her demeanour, must indeed have struck every 
 beholder. 
 
 "Amidst all the tumult, and all the suffering, 
 her kind looks were constantly bent on me, as I 
 
104 MEMOIR OF 
 
 walked by her side ; and, ever and anon, as our 
 eyes met, she forced her features to a smile — a 
 courageous, sweet, languid, evanescent smile, 
 intended to cheer me ; but from my poor dear 
 wife in such a condition, so irresistibly heart- 
 rending, that I know not, when she at last de- 
 sisted from it, whether she was checked by her 
 own exhaustion, or by observing its effect in 
 agitating my mind. The crowd heard not the 
 sound of her voice, except occasionally a few 
 that were near, when she con firmed our waver- 
 ing purposes, by her judicious decisions, on the 
 offers made to us of hospitality and service. But 
 it was the will of God that thousands should be 
 brought together to witness an eminent exam- 
 ple of the resignation, patience, and fortitude of 
 a delicate woman, of acute sensibility, amidst 
 excruciating sufferings, which had come on her 
 in a moment, and were very soon to prove mortal. 
 This was not an ordinary dispensation of Prov- 
 idence to any of them. Surely, they will never 
 forget, it. May God in mercy bless it to us all, 
 for the good of our souls ! 
 
 By the time we laid Mrs. Ewing on the bed, 
 from which she never rose, there were four or 
 five medical gentlemen present, who proceeded 
 to examine her fracture ; and I every moment 
 expected to hear the dreadful word amputation ; 
 as I did not imagine that any thing else could 
 possibly be accomplished, in so bad a case. With 
 my hand locked in that of my beloved sufferer, 
 
MRS. EWING. 105 
 
 I sat in breathless suspense ; while she could 
 not but cry out, and groan, (though in a won- 
 derfully suppressed degree,) while writhing un- 
 der her agony, now greater than ever, from the 
 handling and stretching, necessary in setting the 
 limb. I could hardly believe my hearing, when 
 it was said that the bone was set, and the foot 
 restored to its proper place and position. It 
 was, indeed, good news for the moment; but 
 the poor dear patient continued to suffer such 
 increased pain, that neither of us could think of 
 any thing else ; nor did it appear from the event, 
 that we had any reason to be elated. I am 
 satisfied, however, that all that man could do 
 was done. The bone was set by Mr. William 
 Gibson, of New Lanark, who, with Mr. Flem- 
 ing, of Old Lanark, were the surgeons of the 
 neighbourhood, who attended all the party. 
 The examination and treatment of the patients 
 occupied the surgeons the whole evening. By 
 Mrs. Ewing's suggestion, I had despatched a 
 messenger, immediately after the event happen- 
 ed, for Dr. A. D. Anderson, of Glasgow, who, 
 on his arrival, soon after midnight, approved of 
 all that had been done, and continued with us 
 till next day. 
 
 Lady Mary Ross, of Bonnington, with part 
 
 of her family, and Colonel Strutt, and part of 
 
 his family, then on a visit to her, were at Brax- 
 
 field House as soon as ourselves ; she and they 
 
 K 
 
106 MEMOIR OF 
 
 visited us almost daily; and their attentions 
 were most important to our welfare, as long as 
 any of us remained there. She recommend- 
 ed Mr. Gibson to our confidence, as a skil- 
 ful and attentive surgeon, whom she employed 
 in her own family. She directed us to excellent 
 attendants from Braxfield Lodge, which were 
 immediately obtained. She also had the good- 
 ness to assist in writing to friends, and made 
 numberless other efforts to mitigate our suffer- 
 ings, and to calm our minds. 
 
 When strangers had withdrawn, and the 
 events of this terrible day were brought to a 
 close, we could not but adore the compassion of 
 God, that, after what had happened, such good 
 accommodation was provided for us all. The 
 very circumstance of the house being empty, 
 made us feel more at liberty, inasmuch as we 
 gave no disturbance to a resident family. The 
 comfort, too, of being all lodged together was 
 very precious. Every one could thus easily 
 make known his own situation, and learn, at 
 any moment, the situation of all the rest. Some 
 of us could even give assistance to their friends. 
 From our arrival, Miss Cathcart, though sadly 
 bruised and lamed, had been going from room 
 to room, as if she had not been a patient her- 
 self; and her own room was within call of her 
 brother's on the one hand, and ours on the oth- 
 er. But my poor dear wife suffered violent pain 
 all night long. Great was the agony of the set- 
 
MRS. EWIRti, 107 
 
 ting of the bone ; but the pain which she after- 
 wards complained of at the fractured point of 
 it, was much greater after the setting than be- 
 fore it. They had given her black drop, (for she 
 durst not use laudanum,) in the hope of pro- 
 curing for her some mitigation and rest ; but it 
 produced no discernible effect till the following 
 day. It had also been necessary to fasten the 
 fractured leg to a splinter board, to prevent the 
 bone from shifting ; the effect of which was, to 
 nail, as it were, immoveably to one spot, an ac- 
 tive limb ; and thereby to aggravate exceeding- 
 ly, the irritability of all the parts of the agitated 
 and restless body. 
 
 Next morning, we Were laid under fresh obli- 
 gations by many very handsome offers of ser- 
 vice, from worthy individuals and families in 
 the neighbourhood. The Rev. William Men- 
 zies, minister of the parish, and his lady, wait- 
 ed on us with various comforts : his lady bring- 
 ing dresses for the ladies, and proposing to re- 
 main herself to nurse them. From being pre- 
 pared, at any rate, to spend a night in the jour- 
 ney ; and attendants having been instantly pro- 
 cured on our coming to Braxfield, some of these 
 kind proofs of sympathy and attention were ren- 
 dered unnecessary. But we did not feel the less 
 obliged. I am conscious of being indebted, in 
 a similar manner, to many, whose names I nev- 
 er knew, or have forgot; and I would here take 
 an opportunity of expressing my fear, that, from 
 
108 MEMOIR OP 
 
 having my mind absorbed with one object, I 
 may have been deficient in making acknowl- 
 edgments, where they are due. I do hope, that 
 omissions of this nature, which I sincerely re- 
 gret, will be generously forgiven. 
 
 In the course of the day, Mrs. Ewing became 
 drowsy, and at last obtained some intervals of 
 sleep ; and the severity of the pain was so far 
 mitigated, that towards evening she once said, 
 she was surprised to find herself so easy. At 
 night, however, when she mentioned her ex- 
 pectation that the medical gentlemen would al- 
 low her another dose of the black drop, they 
 were under the necessity of acknowledging, 
 that they were afraid to administer it again so 
 soon, lest it should promote any tendency to fe- 
 ver; against which they must, above all things, 
 be on their guard. She at once submitted to a 
 privation which, most likely, the critical nature 
 of the case required ; but the consequence was, 
 another restless and most distressed night. 
 And now the keeping of the fractured limb in 
 one position, became extremely afflicting. "Gen- 
 tlemen," she said to the medical attendants, 
 "could you turn my leg to the other side?" 
 They were obliged to confess, they durst not 
 venture, as the bone might be put out of its 
 place. She did not repeat the question that 
 night, although her aggravated sufferings were 
 very great. 
 
MRS. EWING. 109 
 
 Next day, Mrs. Ewing had the comfort of re- 
 ceiving a visit from her brother. Sir John Max- 
 well told me he had called on Dr. Anderson, 
 with a view to bring him in his carriage, for a 
 second visit. The Dr. could not come, but 
 promised to be with us next day ; and I was 
 willing to hope, that his delaying for a day, was 
 a good sign, as it showed he was under no im- 
 mediate alarm. Being under the application of 
 leeches, when Sir John arrived, I could not at- 
 tend him to Mrs. E wing's room, nor return to 
 her, till some time after he had left us. At part- 
 ing I ventured to say, I hoped we should all be. 
 better, when we next met. But when I looked 
 after him, through the window, as he walked 
 slowly away, my heart was struck through, as 
 with a dart, by the appalling thought, "Perhaps* 
 my dear Sir, you have got the last look of your 
 beloved sister ! " 
 
 When I got back to Mrs. Ewing's room, I 
 found her fast asleep ; and, being fatigued by 
 the leeches, I lay down on my bed, which was 
 in the same room, and soon fell asleep also : we 
 had each, I afterwards learned, above an hour's 
 sleep ; and I believe she had no such period of 
 undisturbed repose, during the whole remaining 
 part of her sufferings. When she had got what 
 was called her dinner, which consisted of a 
 roasted apple, she spoke to me, with much sat- 
 isfaction, of her brother's visit; particularly 
 mentioning the proofs he had given, of consid- 
 
110 MEMOIR OF 
 
 erate affection and care. She then asked me to 
 repeat to her a few portions of Scripture, and to 
 pray. I felt as if I could almost entertain the 
 hope of some approaching perceptible mitiga- 
 tion of trouble. 
 
 But the night was again a night of extreme 
 distress; no rest, very great pain in the leg, 
 and a most violent affection of internal pain in 
 the body. The black drop Avas given, but it en- 
 tirely failed to give any relief. I used to think, 
 that the most deplorable sufferings conceivable 
 were implied in the language of Job vii. 4. " I 
 am full of tossings to and fro unto the dawning 
 of the day," But I now saw, that to be so fix- 
 ed, as to be prevented from " tossings," was a 
 most grievous addition. Only once more, how- 
 ever, did she put to her medical attendants the 
 hopeless question. But she did it in such a 
 manner, and with such a limitation of request, 
 as has made an indelible impression on my 
 mind. " Could you turn my leg for one min- 
 ute?" They declared they were very sorry, but 
 durst not attempt to comply. She uttered not 
 a syllable of complaint, or lamentation, and nev- 
 er mentioned the subject again. 
 
 On Saturday morning, Dr. Anderson arrived,, 
 according to promise. To use his own expres- 
 sion, he found his patient "not getting better," 
 and he, and the Lanark surgeons, all evidently 
 uneasy, united in requesting more assistance. 
 I begged they would name any they chose from 
 
MRS. EWING. Ill 
 
 any quarter. After a little consideration, an ex- 
 press was, with their unanimous approbation, 
 despatched to Glasgow, for Dr. John Macarthur, 
 who had attended her, on all occasions, from 
 her youth, and enjoyed her highest confidence 
 for skill and experience. She would not allow 
 his being sent for at first, to so great a distance, 
 when she considered that the greater part of 
 the journey must be in the night time, as she 
 knew he had not been well ; but we were sure 
 she would be gratified by a visit from him, now 
 that his arrival could take place in the course of 
 the day. My fears were now excited to the ut- 
 termost. Alas ! there was the imminent danger 
 of a fatal result ; and there was the probability 
 of a painful, and now almost hopeless, previous 
 operation. I supposed that a proposal would 
 be made, to amputate the limb, as the only re- 
 maining resource. This I had dreaded from 
 the beginning; and had it been advised, I could 
 not have opposed it. I determined, however, if 
 they should propose it, to ask if they could suy, 
 that they thought there was a reasonable hope 
 of success ; if they could, I should then submit 
 it to her own consideration, assured that she 
 would give an answer worthy of herself. With 
 this purpose, I endeavoured to compose my agi- 
 tated mind, during that awful day of suspense 
 and terror. All I said in the mean time, to the 
 surgeons on the spot, was, that whatever should 
 be done, I must be allowed to be present. 
 
112 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Though from the disabled state of my left arm, 
 I could render no actual service, I believed she 
 would feel my being with her as some mitiga- 
 tion of the bitterness of her cup ; and after be- 
 ing present at the setting of the bone, I thought 
 I could stand any thing. I now clung to her 
 more closely than ever. Besides the melanchol- 
 ly satisfaction, in other respects, the desire of 
 saving her feelings gave me, while in the room, 
 a degree of composure, of which I was quite 
 incapable any where else. 
 
 Although very much exhausted, it was won- 
 derful with what tranquillity she passed the day. 
 The unfavourable symptoms rather abated, and 
 we all hoped she was better. At one time, 
 when we were left alone, she said to me, " Re- 
 peat some passages of Scripture." I began with 
 Psl. Ixi. 2. "When my heart is overwhelmed, 
 lead me to the Rock that is higher than I." In 
 a little time she said, "Give me some passages 
 from the Romans." I repeated Rom. viii. 18. 
 "For I reckon that the sufferings of this present 
 time are not worthy to he compared with the 
 glory which shall be revealed in us," " Repeat, 
 rather," said she, "from the third chapter, the 
 way of a sinner's justification before God." I 
 answered, from verse 19 to 26 inclusive, " Now 
 we know, that what things soever the law saith, 
 it saith to them who are under the law ; that ev- 
 ery mouth may be stopped, and all the world 
 may become guilty before God. Therefore by 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 113 
 
 the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be jus- 
 tified in his sight : for by the law is the knowl- 
 edge of sin. But now the righteousness of God 
 without the law is manifested, being witnessed 
 by the law and the prophets ; even the righte- 
 ousness of God, which is by faith of Jesus Christ 
 unto all, and upon all them that believe ; for there 
 is no difference : for all have sinned, and come 
 short of the glory of God: being justified freely 
 by his grace, through the redemption that is in 
 Christ Jesus ; whom God hath set forth to be a 
 propitiation through faith in his blood, to de- 
 clare his righteousness for the remission of sins 
 that are past, through the forbearance of God ; 
 to declare, / say, at this time his righteousness, 
 that he might be just, and the justifier of him 
 which believeth in Jesus." She was now satis- 
 fied ; and I did not attempt to fatigue her atten- 
 tion any further at the time. 
 
 Her sufferings were, indeed, so severe and in- 
 cessant, and it was so important to avoid in- 
 creasing her agitation, that I abstained from al- 
 most every thing like conversation with her. I 
 never ventured to allude to the fatal event; 
 never, to ask if she could tell how her fracture 
 happened ; and this must account for my igno- 
 rance of many things, which, had it pleased 
 God to spare her, I should have been eager to 
 learn from her own lips. About her spiritual 
 welfare, I had no anxiety ; and all other subjects, 
 I was willing to postpone. The only reference 
 
114 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 I remember her making to the calamity, was in 
 these words: "I observed your agitation, when 
 you saw what had happened to me ; but I made 
 allowance for you, as I was very sensible I 
 should have been equally agitated, had I es- 
 caped, and the thing had befallen you." 
 
 Dr. Macarthur arrived from Glasgow in the 
 evening. After visiting his patient, and consult- 
 ing with the other medical gentlemen, he sent 
 for me, and said, "He understood I was appre- 
 hensive there must be an operation; there 
 would be no operation ; indeed there could be 
 none ; the only thing to be attempted was, to 
 bring on suppuration, without which there could 
 be no cure ; that they had agreed, therefore, to 
 use fomentation, and then to apply bladders of 
 warm water, the object of which was to prolong 
 the effect of the fomentation." The proposal 
 was accordingly carried into effect. None of 
 the medical gentlemen left us before midnight. 
 Some one of them stayed the whole of every 
 night : this night Dr. Anderson stayed. It was 
 Mrs. Ewing last, and certainly her worst night. 
 The warm application was, I believe, the only 
 remaining expedient; but it aggravated every 
 formerly mentioned distressing symptom. She 
 could not rest for a single moment ; and such 
 was the internal pain, that even the fractured 
 leg was no longer mentioned. It was a severe 
 struggle, but a murmur never escaped her, she 
 was never absorbed in her own sufferings ; she 
 
MRS. EWING. 115 
 
 was composed, and resigned, and most tenderly 
 mindful of all who were with her. As I was 
 incapable of affording assistance, and a good 
 deal exhausted, I lay down in bed. What sleep 
 I got, I cannot tell ; but I lay as still as I could, 
 and I was told, that even in her greatest dis- 
 tress, she would draw aside the curtain, and 
 look across the room, to see how I was lying ! 
 
 Dr. Macarthur told me afterwards, that when 
 he arrived, on the Saturday evening, her pulse 
 was not above 90 ; but that, in the course of the 
 three hours of his remaining with her, before 
 going to bed, it changed remarkably to the 
 worse. Dr. Anderson observed the leg to be a 
 little blackened in the course of the night ; and 
 next morning mortification was decidedly and 
 rapidly advancing. 
 
 In the early part of the morning, however, 
 her sufferings were for a time, to appearance, 
 somewhat abated, as is usual, I believe, in such 
 cases. On getting up, I found her very weak, 
 but lying as if she was easier. When asked, 
 however, how she was, she said she was not 
 better. I got no report of the state of the leg, 
 till the medical gentlemen met to examine it, 
 which was, I think, about ten o'clock. After 
 conversing with Dr. Anderson, they all came in- 
 to her room together. They looked at the leg. 
 Mr. Gibson said, " We will not trouble Mrs. 
 Ewing with much dressing this morning." In 
 a minute or two they retired. Whether it was 
 
116 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 from their manner, or from her own feelings, or 
 partly from both, I know not ; but as soon as 
 they had left the room, and she and I were 
 alone, she turned to me, and said, " My dear, I 
 am quite sensible, that I am in a very critical 
 state." My answer was, "I hope, my dear, 
 that God is with you." She understood me in a 
 moment ; and Dr. Anderson having come back 
 to the room, she said to him, " Doctor, am not I 
 in a very critical state ?" He replied, " Indeed, 
 Ma'am, it would be wrong to flatter you : we 
 have no hope." 
 
 The example of fortitude, which follows, is 
 the more remarkable, that never till now, had 
 she expressed, or seemed to entertain, any ap- 
 prehension of a fatal result. Her acute suffer- 
 ings, being accounted for by the very bad frac- 
 ture, did not alarm her. With a severe and te- 
 dious illness she certainly laid her account, but 
 not with death. On the preceding day, she had 
 planned one of her servants, who had been sent 
 for, going back to Glasgow, in the following 
 week, to bring a supply of various articles she 
 thought she should want. On that same morn- 
 ing, she said to Miss Cathcart, of the servant 
 attending her, and who would not leave her 
 when she saw her so ill, "She has been out of 
 bed two nights following ; that must not happen 
 again." The announcement, therefore, of a cer- 
 tain and speedy dissolution was as unexpected, 
 as it was solemn. She evidently felt its solem- 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 117 
 
 laity ; but showed no symptoms of alarm, confu- 
 sion, or reluctance. Her immediate effort was, 
 to improve the short time that might remain, for 
 the benefit of others* With this view, she as- 
 sembled all the family that could come, round 
 her bed, that, as appeared from what she said, 
 she might express her dying faith and hope; 
 her love to Christ* and to his people, and to his 
 cause, through all the world ; her desire for the 
 salvation of her relatives and friends, whether 
 present or absent; her sympathy with those 
 whom she was about to leave in a state of be- 
 reavement and solitude ; her sense of the care 
 and skill, although unavailing, of the medical 
 attendants, and ;her desire to do them spiritual 
 good in return ; her gratitude to the servants 
 who had waited on her, especially to her own 
 servants, whose affection she had long possess- 
 ed, and in whose serious Christianity she had, for 
 some time, felt particular satisfaction. She also 
 remarked, with wonderful accuracy and com- 
 posure, the symptoms of approaching death ; 
 and while she spoke chiefly of the things of God, 
 and the concerns of the soul, she settled some 
 worldly matters, and expressed her wishes as to 
 her burial, which prevented perplexity, and af- 
 forded a melancholy satisfaction to surviving 
 friends. She adverted to such a number and 
 variety of subjects, and spoke upon each of 
 them with such clearness and propriety, that 
 one might have thought she had prepared for 
 
118 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the occasion the very language she was enabled 
 to employ ; while it was perfectly evident that 
 she had no previous warning, and that she Was 
 urged to despatch, by feelings, every moment 
 increasing, which indicated the immediate ap- 
 proach of death. 
 
 She desired me to inform Mrs. Cathcart of her 
 situation, and to say, she wished to see her, add- 
 ing, "tell her she must come soon." Miss 
 
 M h had come the day before, but we had 
 
 not brought her into Mrs. Ewing's room, lest it 
 should agitate her to see one, of whose coming 
 
 she was not aware. I knew that Miss M h 
 
 would wish to come in now ; yet did not like to 
 run the risk of surprising Mrs. Ewing with her 
 unexpected appearance. I was, therefore, 
 obliged to mention her having arrived the pre- 
 ceding day, and to propose her being brought in 
 with the rest. " I cannot speak to any one par- 
 ticularly," said she, « but I love all, who love 
 our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity." When 
 Miss M h came in with Mrs. and Miss Cath- 
 cart, Mrs. Ewing pressed her hand most affec- 
 tionately, taking it in both hers, but did not 
 speak to her; finding it necessary, I suppose, to 
 save her strength for what she wished to say to 
 others, or to the whole at once. 
 
 I am quite unable to do justice to the scene, 
 which I could have wished to have given most 
 accurately and completely. The following are 
 some of her expressions:—"! have no eleva- 
 
MRS. EWING. 119 
 
 tions, but I look for the mercy of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, unto eternal life." — " What a mercy is it, 
 that salvation is the work of Christ ; that he 
 hath finished it ; and that we are called, not to 
 attempt that work for ourselves, but to believe 
 in him !" 
 
 Her first thoughts were directed to her absent 
 nearest relatives. " Tell my dear brother, and 
 his dear wife, and dear children, that I hope my 
 death will be the means of their obtaining eter- 
 nal life, which can only be obtained from the 
 mercy of God through Jesus Christ. Say this 
 to every one of them." Then, as if unwilling 
 there should be any delay, she added, " you had 
 better write it to them." 
 
 To Mrs. Cathcart she spoke with much affec- 
 tion and solemnity, but being at the other side 
 of the bed, I could not hear it all, and cannot 
 remember all that I did hear. "You maybe 
 sure, you have not been brought so far, and to 
 suffer so much, and to witness such a scene, for 
 nothing." "You cannot, nor can any one con- 
 ceive how precious Christ is to me at this mo- 
 ment." Mr. Cathcart could not be present, as he 
 was still confined to bed. She therefore sent an 
 affectionate message to him. Referring to his hav- 
 ing supposed himself to be the occasion of the fa- 
 tal excursion, (which she knew was not the case,) 
 and calling him, as usual, by his first name, " Tell 
 dear Taylor, that a sparrow falleth not without 
 
120 MEMOIR OF 
 
 our heavenly Father, and that the very hairs of 
 our heads are all numbered." 
 
 Turning to me, she also sent the following 
 motherly affectionate message to my daughter : 
 " Tell dear Jessy, how much satisfaction I have 
 had, in the evidence I have seen of the grace of 
 God in her ; how much I have rejoiced in her 
 usefulness, and in that of her dear husband ; and 
 how much I love them, and their dear children ; 
 and tell them, I hope to meet them, and their 
 children, both young and old, (alluding to Cath- 
 erine, who had died a few months before, in in- 
 fancy,) in the heavenly world." 
 
 She thanked her medical attendants for their 
 exertions in her behalf; saying, "May God re- 
 ward you in blessings to your souls, for the 
 kindness you have shown to my body." To 
 her old friend, Dr. Macarthur, she said, " I hope 
 you will not be the worse for coming up here ; 
 — you have always possessed much of my es- 
 teem." 
 
 She also thanked some very worthy persons 
 of the place, who had attended as nurses, for 
 their care and tenderness; hoping that God 
 would bless to their souls, the example they had 
 in her of the shortness and uncertainty of hu- 
 man life ; and would impress them with the 
 conviction that one thing is needful ; and lead 
 them to choose the good part that should not 
 be taken away ; or if they had done so, to prize 
 more and more, the precious Saviour. 
 
MRS. EWING. 121 
 
 To two of her servants, who had been sent 
 for, to assist in giving attendance, she said, 
 "My faithful girls, I thank you for all the love 
 you have shown me, and all the care you have 
 taken of me. I rejoice in what I have seen of 
 the grace of God in you ; and I hope you will 
 be enabled to persevere, and especially in your 
 zealous endeavours to bring others to Christ." 
 Then, turning to me, she added, naming oth- 
 er two at home, " charge them, that they meet 
 rne as disciples of Christ, before the judgment- 
 
 Mrs. Cathcart was so ill, and had been so ag- 
 itated, when Mrs. Ewing was speaking to her, 
 that she had to leave the room immediately af- 
 ter, and Miss Cathcart was obliged to go with 
 her, and to remain some little time. I did not 
 observe when she returned, and cannot tell pre- 
 cisely the occasion of what I am going to state. 
 But Miss Cathcart, looking earnestly at Mrs. 
 Ewing, was led to say, " O that my soul were 
 in that soul's place!" Mrs. Ewing promptly 
 reminded her, that Jesus Christ was the Saviour 
 of the chief of sinners, equally free to all, and 
 the only ground of a sinner's acceptance and 
 hope. 
 
 In taking leave of me, she said, " We have 
 been very happy together; we have lived in love 
 and harmony ; and it is pleasant, that, at part- 
 ing, there is nothing to settle between us." I 
 L 
 
122 MEMOIR OF 
 
 said, I hoped the Lord would pardon my sins- 
 against her. She answered, " I hope the Lord 
 will pardon my sins against you. I have been 
 a happy wife ; but my greatest happiness has 
 been sitting under your ministry." She then 
 said, she had been exceedingly happy in the 
 Christian fellowship she had enjoyed ; in the 
 love of the church at all times, but particu- 
 larly in various additions of a very interesting 
 nature, especially from among the children of 
 old church members, which the Lord had 
 made to it, that very year, of which we had of- 
 ten before spoken, and which she now remem- 
 bered with pleasure. She gave thanks to God, 
 (as indeed she had done while yet on the spot,) 
 that in the overturn of the carriage, the mortal 
 injury had happened to her, and not to me. She 
 added, " I hope you will be enabled to continue 
 your labours in preaching the gospel." Here 
 she raised her voice, and spoke with an anima- 
 tion and energy, which I hope I shall never 
 cease to feel. "Never relinquish your public 
 ministry, while you have strength. Christ is a 
 Saviour who can save to the uttermost. He 
 has plucked me as a brand but of the burning. 
 If I had ten thousand tongues, and the strength 
 of angels, I would tell the love of God, through 
 Jesus Christ, to dying sinners." 
 
 She next gave directions respecting the dis- 
 posal of her body. " Bury me where you are 
 likely to be buried yourself. You know we 
 
MRS. EWING. 123 
 
 spoke of purchasing a place in the crypt, under 
 Dr. Mitchell's meeting house. But you already 
 have a burial place in the West Church-yard, in 
 Edinburgh ; and the distance is not so far from 
 here, as it would have been had I died in Glas- 
 gow. You know we are half way here." Miss 
 Cathcart, recollecting that Mrs. Ewing had ex- 
 pressed a wish, after Mrs. Sterling's funeral, to 
 be buried beside her, and other dear relatives of 
 her own family, said, " I am sure you would be 
 made welcome to be buried in the Polloc burial 
 place, if you desired it." With much earnest- 
 ness, she replied, "O! I would like that!" 
 " Well," said I, "I promise you, that I shall ask 
 permission in your name ; and, if granted, you 
 shall lie there ; and as for me, I can be, at all 
 events, accommodated with a place in the same 
 burial ground." I hope we shall be together 
 both at death, and at the resurrection, and 
 dwell together in the house of the Lord forever. 
 With this promise, she signified her satisfaction, 
 adding, that the matter was of very inferior im- 
 portance to the concerns of the soul. 
 
 She then said, "Commit my soul to God." 
 This I instantly did, in a few petitions ; praying 
 that the Lord might not leave her in the valley 
 and shadow of death— (Here she was heard to 
 say, "I am not alone, for God is with me,") that 
 she might have a short and easy passage to the 
 heavenly glory; and that the Lord Jesus might 
 receive her spirit ! 
 
124 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Throughout the whole of this closing scene, 
 she showed the most accurate attention to things 
 of a minute nature, as well as to matters of high 
 importance. 
 
 Miss Cathcart, having become faint, had lain 
 down on a bed at the other side of the room. 
 Mrs. Ewing observed her, and said, "Jane Cath- 
 cart, come here to me, I want to speak to you 
 now of a worldly matter." When Miss Cath- 
 cart came, she said, "You will find in my book 
 at home, six pound-two, which I had not time to 
 mark in it before I came away. It is money col- 
 lected for the sale of ladies' work, for the sup- 
 port of the preaching of the gospel in the High- 
 lands." 
 
 She had remarked, that the pulsation had left 
 her wrists. Some time after, expressing a wish 
 to have the position of her pillow changed, I let 
 go her hand, to give place to an attendant, as 
 my left arm was not able to assist in moving her. 
 On returning, and taking her hand again, I slip- 
 ped my fore finger towards the wrist, to feel if 
 the pulse was really gone ; never imagining that 
 she would observe it. But she instantly said, 
 "You need not do that. I told you the pulsa- 
 tion had left my wrists ; and now it is leaving 
 my heart." Then, looking to Dr. Anderson, she 
 said, "Doctor, is the struggle ever long, after 
 the pulse has ceased in this manner ? " " It de- 
 pends," said he, " on the strength of the consti- 
 tution." The question was put, and the answer 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 125 
 
 received, with as perfect composure, as if some 
 third person had been the subject of the in- 
 quiry. On hearing the question, however, I 
 thought she was apprehensive of a long, and 
 perhaps severe struggle ; and I was led to pray, 
 in my heart, that if it were the Lord's will, it 
 might neither be long nor severe. If the prayer 
 was called for by the occasion, it certainly was 
 answered ; for she was not detained many min- 
 utes longer ; and she could hardly be said to 
 have any struggle at all. On reflection, I have 
 thought since, that she asked the question, not 
 from any apprehension, but merely from a wish 
 to know what time might probably remain to her. 
 Very soon, indeed, she seemed to feel satisfied, 
 as one who had got an opportunity of saying all 
 that she wished to say. Accordingly, her last 
 notice of me, was an address of private person- 
 al affection. With a look and manner as if she 
 would have smiled at parting, she sweetly said, 
 " I can still see your kind sympathizing look." 
 Faithful, loving companion, it was the last thing 
 thou didst attempt to see ! 
 
 In a few moments, she added, "Raise me up." 
 When her request was complied with, she clos- 
 ed her own eyes ; reclined her head on the 
 friend who supported her; breathed a little 
 stronger, as one going to sleep ; the respirations 
 became gradually slower, but they were not la- 
 borious. There was not a distorted feature, nor 
 an agitated limb ; it seemed as if she had al- 
 ready received her gentle dismission, when there 
 
1^6 MEMOIR OF 
 
 followed two or three breathings more— and all 
 was over ! 
 
 I cannot withhold these few and scattered 
 fragments, though conscious they convey no ad- 
 equate idea of a scene, from first to last, of in- 
 expressible interest. It is usually said, that for- 
 getfulness is the consequence of inattention. It 
 may be so, in the task of committing to memo- 
 ry, what we little care for. But it is not so, at 
 least not always so, in religious exercises; nor 
 perhaps in any case of extraordinary excite- 
 ment. I have learned by experience, that a 
 man may be engaged most intently; and yet- 
 nay, for that very reason— may fail to remem- 
 ber. No wonder, the prophets required a re- 
 storing, guiding inspiration, to enable them to 
 give to others, especially to put upon authentic 
 record, a full and faithful account of the lively 
 oracles of God, which they had themselves pre- 
 viously heard, accompanied by heavenly visions 
 which they had themselves seen. Like an aw- 
 fully sublime heavenly vision, my beloved wife's 
 departure came upon me suddenly. It absorbed 
 me completely till the last moment; and when 
 I found myself left alone, the glory had passed 
 away, and I could not recall it. I 'heard many 
 words, which I cannot repeat. Of any thing I 
 said myself, I can give almost no account. ° I 
 suppose I sometimes spoke, "not knowing what 
 I said." And then, as to her, the looks, the ac- 
 cents, the whole manner of the ascending saint, 
 should be given, as well as the language. 
 
MRS. EWING. 127 
 
 I dare not enlarge. But lest the reader should 
 be tempted to attribute my asservations, rather 
 to my own ecstacy, than to any facts I had to 
 narrate, I shall add the testimony of one of the 
 medical gentlemen present, well qualified, from 
 long practice, to form a judicious opinion. He 
 had given it, in a letter announcing the event, 
 without any view to publication. I saw it quot- 
 ed in another letter, and I hope he will excuse 
 the liberty I now take, in quoting it again. "I 
 have seen many people die, but I never saw one 
 die in so much confidence, and with so much 
 serenity. She was perfectly sensible till within 
 two minutes of her death ; and as long as she 
 could speak, continued to pray for herself, and 
 all her friends, in language as correct as she 
 could have done, in her highest state of health." 
 
 Mrs. Ewing died at noon of the Lord's day, 
 September 14th, 1828, aged 55. 
 
 Lines suggested by the Death of Mrs. Ewing. 
 
 [These Lines were written by a loving and much- 
 loved cousin, now abroad, but who had, for several 
 years, lived in the family. Providence brought her 
 seasonably back for awhile, to weep with the survivors 
 of the sad calamity. She writes as truly one with 
 them ; and when she speaks in the character of the 
 desolate widower, she conveys, in her own pathetic lan- 
 guage, the very inmost thoughts of his bleeding heart.] 
 
 Thou askest me why tears suffuse mine eyes, 
 And smiles are banish'd from me ! Art thou then 
 A stranger in this land, and knowest not 
 That she who was our lov'd and prized one, 
 
128 MEMOIR or 
 
 The key-stone of our friendship's firm-knit arch — 
 The clasp by which bands numberless were held — 
 The spring by which all kindly streams were fed — 
 The prop on which fond hearts too fondly leaned, 
 Is gone, and hath not left her like behind ? 
 
 Thou knewest not! Well, then, come lend thine ear, 
 And I will try to portraiture her worth ! 
 But like all portraits, 'twill be cold and tame ; 
 The flesh and blood, the spirit-stirring glance, 
 The varying smile, the mantling cheek, defy 
 The painter's mimic power ; and ah ! much more 
 The soul's most delicate, enhancing traits, 
 Dwell in their native beauty and true force, 
 Only in fond affection's secret cell ! 
 Yet I will try ; for as thou knewest her not, 
 The sketch may not seem worthless in thine eyes. 
 
 Of manners gentle, but of soul sincere, 
 And firm of purpose, duty found her still 
 Unshrinking at her post ; not merely there, 
 But with all energy, and every nerve 
 Strained to perform acknowledged duty well. 
 Warm in affection as the cooing dove, 
 And tenderly alive when aught of ill 
 Assailed the object of her care and love, 
 She was a heroine in its highest sense ; 
 For pain and sickness borne without a groan, 
 And self in every case, contemned, forgot, 
 Witnessed her high-toned soul ; while day by day 
 Her heart, her hands, her active powerful mind, 
 Throbbed, thought, and toiled, for all within her sphere. 
 
 But first in duty as in love stood he 
 Who was her husband ! Oh ! that word he was ! 
 What desolation speaks it to the soul ! 
 It tells of hourly tenderness gone by, — 
 
MRS. EWING. 129 
 
 Of matchless excellencies seen no more, 
 
 Of happy hours for ever, ever fled, — 
 
 Of weary, solitary days to come ! 
 
 Tells it nought else ? Oh ! yes, my coward heart, 
 
 Think ou her life in deeds of mercy spent, 
 
 Think on the years of faith and patient hope, 
 
 Think on the many souls to Jesus won, 
 
 The unwearied zeal, the countless plans of good, 
 
 Proposed, matured, and set in full career ; 
 
 Think above all on her triumphant death, 
 
 When with a martyr's patience, mid almost 
 
 A martyr's sufferings, she displayed to all, 
 
 Religion's power to unsting death, and pour 
 
 A deathless glory round a dying bed. 
 
 That smile, that thrilling smile ! I see it still, 
 By which, with a most tender guile, she strove 
 To hide from me the torture she endured ! 
 I hear her dying charge, it cheers me on, 
 " Preach, preach," she cried, " the word of saving truth- 
 Preach Christ, how precious to the parting soul '" 
 And tho' her pulses had forgot to beat, 
 Tho' life was quitting its last post,— her heart, 
 With truth's own eloquence she warned, she pled 
 To win, or to confirm, in Jesus' ways. 
 Then, the last look her breaking eyes could gho 
 Was bent on me, her latest look of love. 
 
 Say, then, if 'tis not a soul-soothing thought, 
 I was her husband ! but more soothing still, 
 A little moment, and we meet again !— 
 A little moment ! and I join her side, 
 To love, to praise, to wonder and adore !— 
 A little moment! and my tears are past; 
 We meet again ! oh, bliss ! to part no more I 
 M 
 
130 MEMOIR or 
 
 Sir John Maxwell having, in the handsomest 
 manner, consented to his sister's dying wish as 
 to the place of her burial, she was buried, on 
 Saturday, the 20th September, 1828, at East- 
 wood, in the Polloc Vault. 
 
 Extract from a Sermon delivered in Eastwood church . 
 on Sabbath, 21st September, upon the occasion of 
 the much lamented death of Mrs. Eiving ; from 
 Phil. i. 21. "For to me to live is Christ, and 
 to die is gain." By the Rev. George Loga>, 
 Minister of Eastwood. 
 
 [This honourable testimony, to Mrs. Ewing, is valued 
 as given in the parish church of her native parish, by 
 one who was acquainted with her several years, and 
 whom she always esteemed as a brother in Christ, and 
 a faithful minister of the Gospel.] 
 
 " Most of you will perceive that we have been 
 led to the subject upon which we have this day 
 been addressing you, by the much lamented 
 death of an excellent Christian Lady, wife of an 
 eminent minister in the neighbouring city, and 
 nearly related to an honourable family in this 
 parish. Her death was occasioned by one of 
 those events, which we are wont to call acci- 
 dents, all of which, however, are under the di- 
 rection and control of a holy, wise, and gracious 
 Providence. She went out in health, accompa- 
 nied by a few friends, and in circumstances 
 
MRS. EWING. 131 
 
 from which no danger could beforehand be ap- 
 prehended, but ere she returned, she met with 
 a fracture, which in the course of a very few 
 days terminated in the dissolution of the earthly 
 tabernacle. Let us not say, where, in such a 
 case, was the Ruler of the Universe ? why did 
 he not interpose for the preservation of his ser- 
 vant ? The Lord is in the heavens : He doth 
 whatsoever pleaseth him: He giveth not ac- 
 count of any of his matters. It was his will, 
 that she, in this way, should finish her earthly 
 course, and enter into the joy of her Lord ; and 
 it is the duty of all concerned to acquiesce in 
 the Divine appointment, and to say, The will 
 of the Lord be done. 
 
 " I feel myself unable to give any thing like a 
 just description of her character. Called in her 
 youth to the knowledge and belief of the truth, 
 as it is in Jesus, she felt its power, and lived 
 habitually under its influence. Though born and 
 educated in what is called high life, she renounc- 
 ed, without becoming peevish and morose, the 
 pomp and vanities of the world, and was, in all re- 
 spects, a devout, active, and exemplary Christian. 
 She endeavoured by every mean in her power 
 to do good. She was unwearied in her atten- 
 tion to the poor, especially of her own sex, sup- 
 plying their wants, imparting to them, by books, 
 and otherwise, religious instruction, and, in 
 every possible way, ministering to their comfort. 
 She rejoiced in the prosperity of Bible and Mis- 
 
132 MEMOIR OF 
 
 sionary Societies, and of every Association that 
 tended to enlarge the boundaries of the Re- 
 deemer's kingdom, and advance the interests of 
 true and undefiled religion, whether at home or 
 abroad ; and laboured to promote their success 
 by her contributions, by her personal exertions, 
 and, I doubt not, by her frequent and fervent 
 prayers. Though attached, from principle, to 
 her own particular denomination, she was by 
 no means of a narrow contracted spirit, but en- 
 tertained a good opinion of all, who, she appre- 
 hended, had received Christ Jesus the Lord, and 
 were studious of walking in him. I have not 
 learned the particulars of what passed, when 
 she was laid upon the bed of affliction, and had 
 death in immediate prospect : only, in general, 
 that the whole scene was very edifying, that she 
 was then entirely resigned to the Divine will, 
 and rejoiced in the hope of the glory of God. 
 It may be truly said of her, that for her to live, 
 was Christ, and we have no reason to entertain 
 the smallest doubt, that death hath been to her 
 exceeding great an eternal gain. Now she hath 
 joined the general Assembly and Church of 
 the first born in heaven, and hath attained to 
 a perfection of knowledge, holiness, and hap- 
 piness, of which we can form at present no 
 adequate conception. And could she hold any 
 communication with us below, we might sup- 
 pose her to address her many weeping friends 
 in the words of our Lord to his disciples previous 
 
MRS. EWING. 133 
 
 to his departure, 'If ye loved me, ye would re- 
 joice because I have gone to the Father. Bless- 
 ed truly are the dead, who die in the Lord. 
 They rest from their labours and their works 
 do follow them.' Let us be followers of them, 
 who through faith and patience now inherit the 
 promises, and not flatter ourselves with the hope 
 of dying the death of the righteous, unless we 
 be found walking in the way of faith and holi- 
 
 Extractfrom a Sermon, preached in Nile Street 
 Chapel, Glasgow, in the afternoon of Lord's day, 
 Sept. 21st, 1828 ; on occasion of the lamented 
 death of Mrs. Greville Ewing, by Ralph Ward- 
 law, D. D. from 1 Cor. xv. 28. " Christ the 
 first-fruits ; afterward they that are Christ's at 
 his coming." 
 
 [Although the next testimony has already been ex- 
 tensively published, this Memoir would be very defi- 
 cient, indeed, were a document of so much excellence 
 not to appear again, along with others, in its proper con- 
 nexion and order. It is well known to be the testimony 
 of the mourning survivor's nearest brother in the min- 
 istry, given from long acquaintance, and friendship, 
 and in that style of appropriate elegance, and affection- 
 ate sympathy, which are characteristic of the excellent 
 author, and which were never more highly appreciated 
 than on this occasion.] 
 
 "You have already anticipated me in the first 
 and most immediate improvement of this sub- 
 ject, — a subject in itself so full of interest. — What 
 
134 MEMOIR OF 
 
 rich and substantial consolation it yields us un- 
 der the loss, by death of Christian friends ! — And 
 who is there amongst us, that may not truly say 
 this afternoon, I have lost a friend? There are 
 some, who from intimacy of connexion, and ac- 
 quaintance with character, and experience of 
 kindness, will utter the sentiment with a deeper 
 emotion than others ; but she whose sudden 
 and unexpected departure we are, with one 
 heart, uniting to deplore, was eminently the 
 friend of all. — But when Christians speak of 
 losing such a friend, let them think what they 
 mean, and beware of forgetting their spiritual 
 relations and their blessed hopes. Those who 
 fall asleep in Jesus are not lost to those who sur- 
 vive them. They are only parted from them for 
 a time, to meet again, — and to meet at home. 
 They are no more lost, than a dear friend is lost 
 who goes home before us, after we have sojourn- 
 ed for a while at a distance, and whom we are 
 soon to follow, and know where to find. — But to 
 our society, our counsels, our plans, and our 
 labours here below, they are lost ; and the loss 
 will be deeply and lastingly felt, in proportion 
 to the greatness and variety of the excellencies 
 by which, in life, they were distinguished and 
 endeared. 
 
 " I am well aware, that in thus publicly 
 speaking of our departed friend, I am doing 
 what might expose me to her own censure : — 
 'Speak not of me,' she would say ; 'speak of 
 
MRS. EAVING. 135 
 
 Christ.' — My only vindication is, that, in speak- 
 ing of the excellencies which the grace of Christ 
 produced, I am speaking of Christ. I am hon- 
 ouring that grace. I am recommending his gos- 
 pel, in the faith of which they had their origin, 
 their stability, and their growth. — Of whatever 
 principle of goodness there was in her charac- 
 ter, and of whatever she was enabled to do for 
 the glory of her Saviour, and for the benefit, 
 temporal or spiritual, of her fellow creatures, 
 she herself would have said, in the humble spirit 
 of self-renunciation, — 'Yet not I, but the grace 
 of God which was with me.' 
 
 " The faith of ' the glorious gospel of the grace 
 of God,' — of free and sovereign mercy to sinners 
 through the merits and intercession of the di- 
 vine Mediator, was deeply settled in her spirit- 
 ually enlightened understanding, and had a 
 strong and steadfast hold of the affections of 
 her heart. It was the animating impulse and 
 ruling principle of her whole conduct. It 
 wrought by love. It overcame the world, both 
 in its intimidations and in its allurements ; in- 
 ducing her, not with reluctant submission, but 
 with cheerful gratitude, to 'deny herself, and 
 take up the cross, and follow Jesus,' — imitating 
 and serving him, confessing his Name, and seek- 
 ing his glory. Her views of evangelical truth 
 were clear, simple, scriptural, — drawn, not from 
 human systems, but from the word of God,— 
 not from cisterns, but from the fountain-head. 
 
136 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 They were those of an understanding naturally 
 vigorous, under the enlightening influence of 
 the Divine Spirit. — The word and ordinances of 
 God were her delight; and she sought from 
 them, agreeably to the ends for which they were 
 given, the enlargement of spiritual knowledge, 
 the confirmation of spiritual principles, and the 
 sustenance and excitement of spiritual affections. 
 Warmly attached, from conscientious conviction, 
 to the particular form of Christian profession 
 which her examination of the sacred volume 
 had led her to embrace, she yet regarded that 
 form, not as an end, but as a means, — an out- 
 ward institute for an inward spiritual purpose, 
 and its adaptation to that purpose as constitu- 
 ting its divine excellence. 
 
 "Her religion was characterized by a cheerful 
 seriousness, — the cheerfulness as remote from 
 levity, as the seriousness from gloom. Few 
 Christians could enjoy with a livelier relish the 
 pleasures of social intercourse. She entered, 
 with an easy vivacity, into the ordinary topics 
 and daily occurrences of life ; but religious con- 
 versation w r as her peculiar delight. On such 
 occasions, her eye and countenance assumed 
 the most interesting variations of expression, — 
 alternately fixed in deep and thoughtful serious- 
 ness, — sparkling with animation, — or lighted up 
 with a smile of benignity, of which no one who 
 has ever seen it can lose the impression. Her pi- 
 ety was not meditative and contemplative merely ; 
 
MRS. EWING. 137 
 
 it was eminently and habitually practical. It 
 put its consistent influence into every thing. 
 Her eye was single. Guided by one principle — 
 a simple regard to her Lord's will — her deport- 
 ment was marked by a beautiful harmony. She 
 was an example of readiness to every good 
 work ; and few are the objects of Christian be- 
 nevolence that will not, directly or indirectly, in 
 a greater or less degree, miss her willing and 
 efficient efforts. Of her it might with truth be 
 said — not indeed in the same sense as of the 
 apostle, but in such ways as were consistent 
 with the proprieties of her sex and situation — 
 that ' there came upon her daily the care of all 
 the churches.' She grieved for their declension, 
 and rejoiced in their prosperity, and ' sought 
 their good alway.' Her interest in the success 
 of the preaching of the gospel in the destitute 
 parts of Scotland was peculiarly lively ; and it 
 evinced itself in an extensive and constant cor- 
 respondence for the reception and communica- 
 tion of intelligence, in unwearied efforts for 
 procuring the requisite pecuniary means, and in 
 devising and suggesting methods of more suc- 
 cessful exertion, and more enlarged usefulness. 
 The pastors of the churches, in their persons, 
 families, and flocks, were the objects of her 
 incessantly kind solicitude. Like the Tryphe- 
 nas and Tryphosas, the Marys and Priscillas 
 of apostolic days, she was emphatically 'a suc- 
 courer of many :' nor is there a minister hi the 
 
138 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Union, especially in the poorer and remoter dis- 
 tricts, who will not feel that he has lost a friend. 
 But her concern for the success of the gospel 
 was far from being limited and local. In its 
 wishes and prayers, and, as far as ability could 
 reach, in its practical exertions, it embraced not 
 Scotland merely, but the whole world. 
 
 " There are present those of her kindred who 
 would bear me out in an ample and honourable 
 testimony to the tenderness and vigour of her 
 domestic and relative affections ; to the kind and 
 steady consistency with which they were exer- 
 cised in all the walks of private life ; to her high- 
 toned integrity and freedom from selfishness, in 
 whatever regarded her own interests; and to her 
 generous anxiety rather to make a sacrifice of 
 these, than leave the slightest room for any mis- 
 understanding of her motives, or reflection upon 
 her Christian principles. And there are now 
 hearing me not a few, who would raise their 
 united voices to support me in saying, that her 
 friendships were never friendships of 'word on- 
 ly.' As her benevolence could in no instance be 
 satisfied with saying, 'Depart in peace, lie warm- 
 ed, be filled,' be clothed, bo instructed, be heal- 
 ed ; — so was it with her friendships. They were 
 friendships of real heartfelt sympathy with the 
 joys and the sorrows of their objects, — friend- 
 ships of active, substantial, self-denying kind- 
 ness, minutely and considerately mindful of 
 every circumstance that might contribute to the 
 
MRS. EWING. 139 
 
 comfort and enjoyment of those whose good it 
 sought, — setting her wits immediately to work, 
 to devise means of benefit, and to bring these 
 means to bear on the accomplishment of her 
 end. She helped where she could; and where 
 she could not help, she counselled, and comfort- 
 ed, and prayed. 
 
 "Her life, in a word, was a happy exemplifi- 
 cation of the practical religion of the Bible: — 
 as she made no secret of her principles, but 
 'confessed with her mouth' what she 'believed 
 with her heart,' her practice was eminently cal- 
 culated to recommend the religion she profess- 
 ed ; — to give it a testimony in the consciences 
 even of those by whom its principles were nev- 
 er embraced ; — to foster every gracious impres- 
 sion in those * whose hearts God had touched,' 
 and win them by its convincing and persua- 
 sive influence; — and, where she could not be 
 loved and welcomed on account of her reli- 
 gion, to constrain esteem and admiration in spite 
 of it. 
 
 " In such cases, my brethren, the excellencies 
 which make us feel our loss are happily at the 
 same time our consolation under it. They at 
 once wound and heal. They make the disrup- 
 tion of the tie that bound us to our departed 
 friends the more violent and painful; yet are 
 they balm to the bleeding heart. We call them 
 to remembrance, in our gloomiest hours, with 
 a pensive pleasure ; and our faithful memories, 
 
140 MEMOIR OF 
 
 even while they open the fountains of sorrow, 
 become our most efficient comforters. They give 
 us the most delightfully soothing and strength- 
 ening of all assurances — the assurance that our 
 friends to whom it was 'Christ to live,' have found 
 it ' gain to die ' — that having lived to the Lord,and 
 died to the Lord, they are gone to be with him. 
 And, although it is not from the sayings of a 
 deathbed, but from the consistent doings of pre- 
 vious practical godliness, that we derive our 
 confidence respecting the unfeigned faith of our 
 fellow-Christians, and the reality of their inter- 
 est in the grace of the Saviour, yet it is no in- 
 considerable ground of congratulation and 
 thankfulness, when a godly life is closed with a 
 dying testimony. 
 
 "To all our comforts, on the present occa- 
 sion, this has been mercifully superadded. — 
 From the moment of the melancholy catastro- 
 phe, to the moment when she drew her last 
 breath, the mind of our dear departed friend en- 
 joyed the most undisturbed serenity. All was 
 satisfaction and peace. There was never a 
 whisper of complaint — never the breathing of a 
 wish that any one circumstance had been oth- 
 erwise than the providence of her heavenly Fa- 
 ther had ordered it. When sensible that her 
 case was critical, and that her end drew near, 
 she addressed words of appropriate consolation 
 and counsel to the friends and domestics that 
 were upon the spot, and gave in commission 
 
MRS. EWING. 141 
 
 special messages, full of faithful affection, and 
 all bearing on their best interests, to be deliver- 
 ed to others. With the most perfect connected- 
 ness of mind, anticipating her speedy removal, 
 and anxious to omit nothing which it was right 
 for her to say or do. She gave directions, re- 
 garding herself, regarding those surviving friends 
 whose welfare and whose usefulness were so 
 dear to her heart, and regarding objects of be- 
 nevolence, about which her interest remained 
 with her to the last. Fortitude and resignation 
 in suffering had characterized her through life ; 
 and they were displayed, with singular constan- 
 cy, from the beginning to the close of its last 
 distressing scene. She watched her own ebb- 
 ing pulse — marking when it left her arm, and 
 when it ceased at her heart : — and so perfectly 
 peaceful was her departure, that it could not be 
 known, by those who were silently awaiting it, 
 which was her parting breath." 
 
 Written on Monday, September 22d, ivhen Lady 
 Maxwell visited Mrs. Ewing's grave, in East- 
 wood Church Yard. 
 
 [These lines were read by Lady Maxwell with many 
 tears, after her return from the grave ; and they were 
 then transmitted by her to the widower, to whom they 
 had been kindly dedicated by the author,with the expres- 
 sion of a hope that they would please him. They do 
 indeed please him, both for their own merits as a belov- 
 ed niece's effusion of mournful and affectionate regard 
 for the memory of a beloved aunt ; and also for the op- 
 portunity they afford him, and of which he eagerly 
 
142 MEMOIR OF 
 
 avails himself, to acknowledge, that this is one of very 
 many gratifying and substantial proofs of kind attention 
 and friendly regard, which he has long received from 
 the whole of that loved and honoured family ; and never 
 more than since the blow came, which might have 
 been supposed to have broke the connexion.] 
 
 Here rests with her fathers, all calmly reposing. 
 As fervent a Christian as ever had breath, 
 Who parted so gently with life at its closing, 
 It seem'd to be only the semblance of death. 
 
 No hero in ancient, or modern story, 
 No warrior panting for honour and fame, 
 No scholar who dreaded to tarnish his glory, 
 Ere yielded up life with a steadier frame. 
 
 The arrow was sped ! and the spark was extinguished 
 In triumphs of joy — through the faith she possessed ; 
 And those she most loved, in a moment relinquished, 
 With pray'rs that they all might be found with the blest. 
 
 No sculpture adorns her ! no epitaph rises ! 
 In classical guise, to emblazon her birth ; 
 The poor and the helpless her memory prizes, 
 The sick and the sorrowful speak of her worth. 
 
 'Twas not an ephemeral kindness that perished, 
 Or owed its existence to effort and toil ; 
 'Twas not an exotic that needs must be cherished, 
 The flower was indigenous, sprung from the soil. 
 
 So boundless her love for the whole of creation, 
 She had not a blessing too great to impart, 
 She would have spread knowledge from nation to nation, 
 And told them of Jesus, the hope of her heart. 
 
MRS. EWING. 143 
 
 For if there was aught that unusually brightened 
 Her radiant eyes with her happiest smiles, 
 It was when the Christian soldier enlightened. 
 Or planted the standard of Christ in the isles. 
 
 Her song was redemption ! and now she is reaping, 
 The fruits of her faithfulness, ardour, and worth ; 
 Her ashes in peace with her ancestors sleeping, 
 Her spirit with him, who;n she worshipp'd on earth. 
 
 A Brief Tribute to the Memory of Mrs. Greville 
 Ewing. 
 
 [These lines were written by Bernard Barton, a 
 member of the Society of Friends, well known for 
 many excellent poetical works, and very kindly con- 
 tributed by him to be engraven on mourning cards, 
 and presented to the sale of Ladies' Work, at Edinburgh, 
 in March, 1829. for the support of the preaching of the 
 gospel in the Highlands and Islands, in which Mrs. 
 Ewing took an interest.] 
 
 "She being dead yet 9peaketh." 
 
 When sets the sun — his parted splendours fill 
 With glowing brightness all the western sky ; 
 
 When fades the Rose — its ling' ring fragrance still 
 Tells that its sweetest charm can death defy. 
 
 E'en so departed Saint! should thoughts of thee 
 Survive thyself, our sorrows to reprove ; 
 
 With angel tongue thy witnesses to be 
 
 In every work of Faith, and Hope, and Love. 
 
 Thy hallowed Memory, and thy spotless name, 
 Thy fervent piety, and fearless zeal ; 
 
 These still should advocate each Christian aim, 
 And yet for charity's blest cause appeal. 
 
144 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Thus from the grave thy voice may now be heard, 
 Pleading, on earth, for Heaven's eternal bliss, 
 
 And human hearts, by thy example stirred, 
 Rejoice to labour in a task like this. 
 
 Bernard Barton. 
 
 Woodbridge, Suffolk, \ 
 1st JVJonfA 24th, 1829. > 
 
 A Tribute to the Memory, of Mrs. Ewing, also 
 intended for the sale of Ladies' Work. 
 
 [This is most gratefully acknowledged as the contri 
 bution of an unknown friend, a minister in Suffolk.] 
 
 Say, sister spirit, what celesti al band 
 Came to conduct thee to thy starry land ; 
 And why so soon — and why at such a time 
 Wast thou transported to the heavenly clime ! 
 Who could have thought in such a lovely scene, 
 The pathway to the grave would intervene ; 
 That where the cascade falls with awful sound, 
 And nature spreads her magic charms around ; 
 That there the harbinger of death would come, 
 And the first step be taken to the tomb. 
 
 Mysterious power that governs man's affairs, 
 Fixes our bounds and measures out our years ; 
 'Tis thine to wither pleasure's cheerful day, 
 'Tis thine to lead thro' sorrow's darksome way. 
 'Tis thine in youth or age to bid us go 
 Thro' death's lone path, and leave this world below. 
 And all thou dost is right ; and all designed 
 To show the wisdom of the Eternal Mind ; 
 And teach thy creatures, while they see the rod, 
 Calmly to bow and know that thou art God. 
 
 Shall we then grieve that we have lost a friend ; 
 Shall we, dear Ewing, mourn thy peaceful end ? 
 
MRS. EWING. 145 
 
 Nature must weep, but memory soothes the mind. 
 With all the virtues thou hast left behind ; 
 Thy fair example gladly would we trace ; 
 Thy holy life, thy every modest grace, 
 Thy ardent zeal to send each Highland clan, 
 The word that Heaven reveals to guilty man. 
 Then, sister spirit, we will weep no more, 
 But follow thee till life's short days are o'er, 
 And at the cross in sweet submission bend, 
 Learn of the Saviour; — imitate the friend ; 
 And wait the hour till we are called to come, 
 And mingle with thee in thy heavenly home. 
 Wrentham, Jan. 28, 1829. 
 
 Lines on the Death of Mrs. Ewing. 
 
 [These lines are by a young man, who had lived 3. 
 season as an inmate in the family, of which he was a re- 
 lation, in order to attend College ; who knew Mrs. Ew- 
 ing's manner of life, and had experience of her parental 
 care and kindness.] 
 
 Come, thou scoffer, come, behold 
 
 This our Ewing's closing scene! 
 Though her heart is waxing cold, 
 
 Not a gloom can intervene 
 To disturb the heavenly peace 
 Of her spirit near release. 
 
 Hark ! the voice of Death, he comes 1 
 
 Softly sound, ye notes of grief! 
 Its last ray the eye illumes, 
 
 Ray that marks the soul's relief, 
 Now th' immortal mounts the sky, 
 There to dwell with Christ on high. 
 N 
 
146 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Could the gospel, which that hour 
 Soothed her mind, be but a tale ? 
 
 Could aught but Almighty power 
 So remove death's dark'ning veil? 
 
 Give the peace that she enjoyed ? 
 
 Breathe the words that she employed r 
 
 Come, thou child of Jesus, too ! 
 
 See this new-born spirit fly ! 
 See what Christ has wrought for you 
 
 Ev'n in death a victory ; 
 Victory, complete, and full, 
 Over Satan's iron rule. 
 
 ye careless ! think again ! 
 
 Ere you scout the promis'd bliss ; 
 Trust in Him who died ! and then 
 
 Fruit shall robe your wilderness ; 
 Fruit that never shall decay, 
 Rip'ning to the perfect day. 
 
 Harps of holiest spirits gone ! 
 
 All ye choirs of bliss above ! 
 Sweetly sound your noblest tone ! 
 
 Praising loud the Lord of love. 
 Sav'd by God's almighty hand, 
 Now another joins your band. 
 
 Lord ! lead mourners left behind 
 To the grace that stayed her soul ; 
 
 That alone can calm the mind 
 
 While the world's proud tempests roll ; 
 
 Guide through all the ills of time, 
 
 To a high, a heavenly clime. 
 
 R. J. JN. 
 Glasgow, March, 1829. 
 
MRS. EWING. 147 
 
 Much of the compassion of God has been 
 shown to the writer of this Memoir, in his afflic- 
 tion, through the instrumentality of his Chris- 
 tian friends. They have very tenderly sympa- 
 thized with him; they have rendered him num- 
 berless kind, and acceptable services ; they have 
 earnestly remembered him in their prayers, and 
 have been stirred up, on his account, to greater 
 importunity in prayer. In no way have their 
 exertions come home more effectually to his re- 
 lief, than in many excellent letters of condolence 
 and consolation, with which he has been favour- 
 ed. He begs to express his deeply felt obliga- 
 tions publickly, because he has not had either 
 strength or spirits, to make those private and 
 personal acknowledgments, which were justly 
 due, in each particular instance. 
 
 But how shall he make them, in the most ap- 
 propriate manner ? He hopes it will not give of- 
 fence, if he acton the persuasion, that the letters 
 referred to cannot be more suitably acknowledged, 
 than by being published. They will thus crown 
 the monument which his trembling hand has been 
 attempting to rear to his beloved, lamented wife, 
 whom his sympathizing correspondents have, 
 with sacred poets, and gospel heralds, delighted 
 to honour. The widower, whom they have done 
 so much to console, will have them, at all times, 
 on his table, for his own 'benefit ; and they will 
 furnish a lasting store of instruction and com- 
 
148 MEMOIR OF 
 
 fort for the benefit of others, since the cup of 
 sorrow is always circulating. 
 
 In many respects, he conceives that the letters 
 form the most important, and perhaps the most 
 acceptable part of this little volume. Every 
 reader is, for the time, treated as the letter-wri- 
 ter's companion. The letters given already, 
 were the writer's principal encouragement to 
 draw up this Memoir. No kind of reading can 
 be more easy, or attractive, to the afflicted, than 
 suitable communications of this nature. They 
 are short, pointed, warm, diversified, and confi- 
 dential. They are at once of general interest, 
 and receive life and force from being written, 
 under the influence of a great sensation, on a 
 trying occasion, to a particular friend. The 
 afflicted person will read a letter, when he has 
 not inclination, or power, to read any thing else. 
 And the benevolence which prompted the es- 
 teemed, the dearly loved writers, to make such 
 an effort for one, will not be disappointed by see- 
 ing their highly prized services made available 
 for many. 
 
 It is only a selection that can be attempted. 
 No names will be published, in letters of strictly 
 private friendship: Greater liberty will be taken 
 in letters written by public men, especially in 
 those written by brethren in the ministry, and in 
 a way, comparatively, of a public nature. All 
 private matters will be omitted. Although, 
 therefore, he has not been able to ask leave pre- 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 149 
 
 viously in each particular case, and has even 
 been afraid to do so lest he should encounter a 
 refusal, the receiver of these excellent letters 
 humbly hopes he may show his gratitude to his 
 correspondents, and his desire to impart to com- 
 panions in tribulation, the balm which has done 
 so much towards mitigating the sufferings of his 
 own mind, without hurting the feelings, or in- 
 curring the displeasure, of those who have laid 
 him under unspeakable obligations, by the love 
 they have shown to the dead, and to the living ; 
 who, in the spirit of genuine compassion, must 
 have real pleasure in comforting all that are 
 cost down ; and who cannot possibly find in the 
 publication of their letters, any thing of theirs 
 which does not do them honour. The letters 
 are subjoined in the order of their dates. 
 
 The writer of the Memoir had written thus 
 far when there were put into his hands, two let- 
 ters by the subject of the memoir, written for 
 the very purpose of consoling an afflicted fami- 
 ly, under two successive bereavements, and kind- 
 ly transmitted by them for this publication. Too 
 late to be inserted earlier, th«y must take a place 
 here also ; where they will be found sweetly to 
 harmonize with all that shall follow. According 
 to the proposed order of dates, they of course 
 come first. 
 
150 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " Glasgow, 17th JVov. 1821. 
 " My dear Miss Y g, 
 
 " Mr. Ewing and I most sincerely sympathize 
 with you, your mother, and every member of 
 the family, on the recent loss you have sustain- 
 ed; but blessed be God, we are called on to 
 mingle thanksgivings also. When we view this 
 world as we ought, as merely a preparatory 
 place for an eternal abode, can we weep much 
 at the thought of one we have loved having 
 done with all sin, and sorrow, and pain, and be- 
 ing at God's right hand, where are pleasures 
 for evermore ? Those who have not fled for re- 
 fuge to the hope set before them in the gospel, 
 may well be alarmed when one of their num- 
 ber is taken away, uncertain when their turn 
 may come to appear before Him as a Judge 
 whom they have neglected as a Saviour. But 
 those who are building on the foundation which 
 has proved firm to the very end with those 
 whose faith and hope were similarly placed, 
 know that they will soon rejoice forever with 
 and on account of those, whose company they 
 now miss and mourn. 
 
 " I remember when my only and beloved sister 
 left this vale of tears, I used to feel in a way I 
 cannot describe, overpowered when I thought or 
 heard of her as connected with worldly things, 
 but when I considered where she was, what she 
 was delivered from, and what enjoying, I could 
 almost believe I heard the melody of heaven. 
 
MRS. EWING. 151 
 
 " My dear friend, we know God is love ; that 
 be is faithful to his promise, and will make all 
 things work together for good to those who love 
 him ; let us trust him, and we shall see he will 
 bring some sweet out of this bitter. Let us pray 
 and not faint. Surely it was not in vain your 
 dear sister had so triumphant an end. May He 
 who can, give us cause to sing of mercy to some 
 precious soul awakened by it. I shall be anxious 
 
 to hear dear Mrs. R y has not suffered in her 
 
 health. When any of you write to her, will you 
 kindly remember us with the most affectionate 
 sympathy. As we shall be anxious to hear of 
 you all, I am sure Mr. O— e will indulge us with 
 a few lines. I hope you will not make an effort 
 to write me ; when you can easily do so, it will 
 give me much pleasure. Mr. Ewing and Miss 
 Cathcart join in every kind wish to you and your 
 
 mother, and I am, my dear Miss Y g, 
 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 "B. Ewing." 
 
 "My dear Miss Y g, 
 
 " We were truly grieved to learn by Mr. O— 's 
 letter, that it had pleased our Heavenly Father 
 again to visit your family with an afflictive 
 stroke. We sincerely sympathize with you — to 
 tell you so, cannot alleviate your distress ; — but 
 blessed be God we know of One, who, in all the 
 affliction of his people, is afflicted, and who has 
 the power to support under, and deliver out of, 
 
152 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and sanctify by every such dispensation of his 
 Holy Providence. Faint not, therefore, my dear 
 friend, under this and other painful visitations, 
 but believe all that God has spoken of the mean- 
 ing and end of all his dealings, and you will 
 infallibly experience his faithfulness. Tribula- 
 tion worketh patience, patience experience, and 
 experience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed, 
 but the peace of God which passeth all under- 
 standing, shall keep your heart and mind by 
 Christ Jesus. If we are called on even when 
 eating and drinking, and in every ordinary thing, 
 to do all to the glory of God— much more are 
 we to show to the world that we are not only 
 actuated, but supported by the consolations 
 and hopes of the Gospel, and so lead others by 
 our sorrows to glorify God as a very present help 
 in trouble. If Christians yield to sorrow, so as 
 to hurt their health and mar their usefulness, as 
 the light of the world and salt of the earth, 
 Satan gets an advantage. On the other hand, if 
 ' all these trials only quicken their zeal and make 
 them more dead to the world and alive to God, 
 He is glorified by the produce of that fruit which 
 it was his purpose they should yield. You know 
 all this better than I do, but we need each other's 
 help to bring these things to remembrance when 
 our minds are perplexed with grief; therefore 
 you will receive it as it is meant, an expression 
 of affectionate concern. Mr. Ewing and Miss 
 Cathcart join me in requesting you to say to your 
 
MRS. EWING. 153 
 
 mother how deeply we feel for her, and beg our 
 
 best respects. They beg their love to you, and 
 
 believe me, my dear Miss Y g, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 "B. Ewing." 
 Glasgow, 22d Oct, 1823." 
 
 Mrs. E wing's character and success, as a step- 
 mother, having formed so interesting a part of 
 the Memoir* the writer of it hopes he will be 
 pardoned by the public, and by his own child, 
 for introducing, without her knowledge, the let- 
 ter, which, in poor health and much agitation, 
 she hurriedly wrote him, while her husband was 
 setting off, on receiving the melancholy intelli- 
 gence, to tender in person his affectionate ser- 
 vices. 
 
 " Durham, Sept. 16th, 1828. 
 *' My beloved Father, 
 
 " I have taken up my pen, but I hardly know 
 how to address you. I and mine have lost our 
 best earthly friend ; but all personal considera- 
 tions are for the present nearly swallowed up in 
 the contemplation of your loss. What that is, 
 we can partly imagine, but you alone feel it in 
 all its bitterness. This is a renewal of former 
 griefs, with many aggravating circumstances. 
 But I am forcibly reminded that she whose death 
 
 See page 50. 
 O 
 
154 MEMOIR OF 
 
 we are deploring, was ever disposed to be grate- 
 ful for the mercies that had been enjoyed, rather 
 than to indulge in regret when they were with- 
 drawn ; and I am sure it is more congenial with 
 what were her views and feelings, that we 
 should dwell upon the strong consolations of the 
 gospel, than upon the gloomy and painful cir- 
 cumstances in which this event has placed us. 
 O what a mercy is it now, that we have everlast- 
 ing consolation and good hope through ' grace ;' 
 a good part which cannot be taken away. I 
 doubt not you are enabled to say with Job. 
 ' though He slay me, yet will I trust in him ;' and 
 with one greater than Job, 'the cup which my Fa- 
 ther giveth me, shall I not drink it ?" Your flesh 
 and your heart cannot but fail under this over- 
 whelming stroke ; but the Lord is the strength 
 of your heart and your portion forever. He has 
 never left nor forsaken you yet, and most as- 
 suredly he will not now. 
 
 "Though there is a difference in the dates of 
 the letters, of two days, we received both this 
 morning. The slight idea which they give of 
 the painful circumstances is very dreadful, but 
 what must they have been to you who have wit- 
 nessed and participated in them ! The sudden- 
 ness of the accident, the violence of it, and the 
 acuteness of the suffering ; the absence from 
 home, are all to our view circumstances of pain- 
 ful regret. Yet precious in the sight of the 
 Lord is the death of his saints ; and even amidst 
 
MRS. EWING. 155 
 
 the fury of implacable enemies, Stephen is said 
 to have fallen asleep. It is certainly a mercy 
 that death was not instantaneous ; and though 
 much suffering must have been endured, the 
 latter end seems to have been peace. Prayer 
 for those whom she loved was a favourite and 
 frequent employment ; and it seems it was the 
 last. It was ever a source of great comfort to 
 me, to know that we enjoyed her constant re- 
 membrance at the throne of grace ; and I trust 
 we shall yet receive many blessings in conse- 
 quence of it. But when I come to think of my 
 own obligations, and of the loss I have sustain- 
 ed, I must forbear at present to enlarge, for I 
 am not yet sufficiently composed almost to real- 
 ize what has taken place. I trust the Lord will 
 preserve my dear husband to reach you in safe- 
 ty, and that he may be honoured in some meas- 
 ure to minister to your comfort. We cannot see 
 it our duty to leave home both at once ; and in 
 the first instance, his going seems more likely to 
 be of use than mine. If we are continued in 
 health, I will most gladly come and see you a 
 little after this. But what an altered prospect 
 presents itself there! I shall feel anxious to 
 hear how you are, and the other sufferers ; and 
 many particulars which my husband will be able 
 
 to communicate. Mrs. O y and Miss L n 
 
 both deeply feel the unexpected intelligence, and 
 unite in deploring the loss sustained by the cause 
 of Christ. I know of no individual whose death 
 
156 MRS. EWING. 
 
 will be more generally deplored throughout the 
 churches in Scotland, or with greater reason. 
 But the Lord liveth and reigneth ; let the earth 
 rejoice. It is certainly a matter of thankfulness 
 that your health was re-established before this. 
 I trust your injury may not be of serious conse- 
 quence. 
 
 " I was providentially led to return home from 
 Sunderland last night. I am obliged to con- 
 clude. With earnest prayers that you may be 
 supported, and that this event may be sanctified 
 to us all, 
 
 " I remain, my dear father, 
 
 " Your affectionate daughter, 
 
 "Janet Jamieson Matheson." 
 
 « H , 16th September, 1828. 
 
 " My very dear Friend, 
 
 " Having read in the Edinburgh Courant, the 
 distressing account of what befell you and party, 
 I was balancing whether to address you at La- 
 nark or Glasgow, to learn particulars, and to 
 hear as I hoped favourable accounts, when your 
 notice of yesterday announcing the melancholy 
 event that has taken place, reached and has very 
 sensibly affected me. How true it is that in the 
 midst of life we are in death, that when perhaps 
 on an excursion in pursuit of health we meet our 
 death. How little we know where safety is or 
 danger lurks. — But it is comfortable to know 
 that the time when, the place where, and the 
 
MRS. EWING. 157 
 
 manner how, each of us is to die, is known to 
 Him, to whom belong the issues of death, — and 
 that it shall be well with the righteous in what- 
 ever circumstances or by whatever means their 
 death is occasioned. 
 
 " You, my dear friend, must sorrow,— but you 
 have not to sorrow as those who have no hope. 
 —I need only express my deep sympathy with 
 you, and offer up my earnest prayer, that the 
 Father of mercies and God of all grace and con- 
 solation may comfort your heart. The sources 
 of true spiritual comfort in the most trying situ- 
 ations are well known to you. May the Lord 
 enable you to derive consolation and support 
 from them. — And if he give quietness, who then, 
 or what can occasion trouble ? — This event, so 
 painful to flesh and blood, has not happened by 
 accident, but with the perfect knowledge, per- 
 mission, and will of Him who has the key of 
 death in his hand, in whose wisdom and good- 
 ness we have every reason to confide, and to 
 rest assured that this is just as it should be. — 
 Are we wiser than he ? Were all circumstances 
 known and considered, we should see that it is 
 better thus than otherwise. O let us be still and 
 know that it is God with whom we have to do, 
 and that it becomes not us to oppose our wills to 
 Ms will, or to wish even to have things different 
 from what they are. — " Should it be according 
 to thy mind?" It is comfortable to reflect that 
 God does not willingly afflict nor grieve the 
 
158 MEMOIR OF 
 
 children of men, — that when he chastens his 
 people, it is because there is need for it, and to 
 do them good by the discipline. Let us search 
 ourselves,— and seek that the salutary design of 
 such an afflicting dispensation may be realized 
 by US) — that we may be quickened in our dili- 
 gence to be found of God in peace, and may 
 be habitually watching and waiting for the com- 
 ing of the Lord. 
 
 " I shall be most anxious till I hear of you. 
 We are both soon to leave this world — sooner 
 perhaps than we are aware. Oh that we may 
 be ready and becoming more meet for the inher- 
 itance of the saints in light. I hope I am wean- 
 ing from the world, and would contemplate my 
 departure to the world of spirits daily. 
 " I remain, my dear friend, 
 
 "Your affectionate and sympathizing brother, 
 « R L ." 
 
 " Cheltenham, September 20th, 1828. 
 " My dear and much valued friend, 
 
 "It is with unutterable anxiety and sor- 
 row, I have just read in one of the papers, an 
 account of the afflictive dispensation of Provi- 
 dence, with which you have been visited! — I 
 read the melancholy record again and again, 
 hoping that there might be possibly some mis- 
 take ; but another paper confirmed the same ac- 
 count, and announced the fatal result, in refer- 
 ence to your dear and beloved partner! — Yet 
 
MRS. EWIXG, 159 
 
 why should I call it ' fatal result ?' — Alas ! our 
 feelings and our weaknesses compel us to use 
 such terms ; while a realizing apprehension of 
 the divine testimony and a perception of things 
 as they are, would lead us to look at that result 
 as 'an entrance, ministered abundantly? into our 
 Father's kingdom ! Yet how, my friend, that 
 such should have been the appointed manner 
 of that entrance — that He who hath ' the keys 
 of the unseen world and of death,' should thus 
 have prepared the way for an admission to his 
 immediate presence ! 
 
 * Short, sudden was the gale, 
 
 That wafted her to rest — 
 
 A while the waves impetuous rushed 
 
 A moment's tossing and 'twas hushed !" — 
 
 "Oh ! my dear friend — I cannot tell you how 
 solicitous I am to know how you are, under this 
 overwhelming trial. I am well assured that you 
 have the sympathy and prayers of all who 
 know and love you — and the circle is a wide 
 and extended one, in which your sorrows 
 will be remembered at the throne of our heaven- 
 ly Father. What is infinitely better — our best 
 Friend does not, and cannot, forget you — He 
 never breaks the bruised reed — He heals the 
 broken hearted, and comforts them that mourn. 
 I trust, amidst all that sense may feel, and rea- 
 son may suggest, that God is enabling you to say 
 — ' It is well' — ' he hath done it,' who is too wise 
 
1G0 MEMOIR OF 
 
 to err, and too gracious to lay upon his suffering 
 people more than he will enable them to bear ! — 
 Often, very often, have I regretted that our 
 great distance from each other has rendered 
 us so much unacquainted with our respective 
 circumstances and anxieties, and that the very 
 urgent pressure of duty, and the frequent ex- 
 perience of personal and relative trial, should 
 have made sad chasms in our intercourse. I 
 the more blame myself for this, because no one 
 has more tender and grateful and affectionate 
 remembrances of the days and years that are 
 gone by. Never can I forget the maternal so- 
 licitude, the uniform kindness and sympathy of 
 your beloved, but now departed friend. Her 
 strength of mind, her humility of spirit, her emi- 
 nent disinterestedness, and her elevated devo- 
 tion to the cause of our Lord, were indeed 
 marked and highly characteristic features. I 
 have never thought of her and of her now 
 mourning partner, without heartfelt gratitude to 
 God for being ever acquainted with her and you ; 
 and for all the precious recollections I am privi- 
 leged to cherish !— If you have ever thought me 
 forgetful or unmindful, do, my friend, banish the 
 suspicion, and accept the assurances of my most 
 sincere and affectionate sympathy. You well 
 know where to find an all-sufficient solace, and 
 I trust ' He who comforteth them that are cast 
 down,' is not withholding the ample experience 
 of his ' everlasting consolation.' 
 
MRS. EWING. 161 
 
 " Oh ! the unutterable value of that consola- 
 tion, and the preciousness of that gospel, which 
 inspires and supports and preserves it. I can 
 only pray that the mind of my venerated, and 
 beloved friend, may largely participate in its en- 
 joyment, and that he who once trod the vale of 
 suffering and wo, may give you the richest ex- 
 perience of his presence and love ! He has re- 
 moved your dearest earthly comforter, that he 
 may endear to you, more than ever, his own 
 love and the resources of his own unchanging 
 covenant ! — By and by he will explain the mys- 
 tery, and enable us all to say — ' It was the right 
 way !' 
 
 "My kind remembrances to Miss Cathcart 
 and all your esteemed circle. 
 
 " And be assured that I am, 
 " My dear friend, 
 " Yours very sincerely and affectionately, 
 
 "J. Fletcher." 
 
 " Hackney, September 22d, 1828. 
 "Weep with those that weep, and rejoice with 
 those that rejoice. — I do sympathize with you, 
 my beloved friend, (and so does my dear partner 
 too,) and in so doing my heart is, as I believe 
 your heart is, touched with the two opposite 
 feelings of grief and joy. It resembles the foun- 
 ders of the second temple, when some wept with 
 a loud voice, and others shouted aloud for joy. 
 Glasgow and its scenery presents itself to my 
 
162 MEMOIR OF 
 
 imagination. It seems but the other day, that 
 when my return from the country to the house 
 of Christian hospitality and kindness was un- 
 usually late at night, she and yourself ran to the 
 door, and welcomed me on my safe arrival, with 
 demonstrations of interest in my welfare, as if 
 I had been a son. It seems but yesterday, that 
 when visiting Glasgow, labouring under indis- 
 position, you took me into your abode, and both 
 of you conspired together to refresh my spirit 
 and make me forget that I was ill. Ah ! your 
 eyes are full of tears, and so are mine, for neither 
 you nor I shall hear her voice again on earth. — 
 Not hear her voice ? Hark ! she reproves me ? 
 Listen with the ear of faith — she speaks and 
 says — If you loved me, you would rejoice, for I 
 am gone to dwell with my heavenly Father. — 
 Oh, we do love the dear departed saint, and 
 therefore check our selfish sobs and sighs. 
 What! would you bring her out of heaven, and 
 down again to earth ? No, O my soul, if I had 
 the power, I would not. I would say, retain thy 
 golden harp ; strike its chords, celestial spirit ; I 
 will not check thine unutterable joys, nor inter- 
 rupt thy hallelujahs. Oh, how she was welcomed 
 into heaven ! Oh, how her soul has been swal- 
 lowed up with raptures, not to be told on earth. 
 Oh, when her Saviour looked and smiled ; when 
 he said 'Come, thou blessed of my Father, enter 
 into the joy of thy Lord' — the delight which 
 thrilled through her soul, no words can tell. No, 
 thou shalt not come again to earth ; no, not 
 
MRS. EWING. 163 
 
 with our consent — we love thee too much to 
 admit of that ; may we go to thee, and enjoy thy 
 company and bliss in heaven. 
 
 ' Prepare us, Lord, for thy right hand, 
 Then come the blissful day.' 
 
 " Oh, what a day ! What a meeting that will 
 be. — Let us be looking for it and hasting to it. 
 " With unfeigned love and sympathy, 
 
 " Yours, beloved friend and brother, 
 
 "H. TOWNLEY." 
 
 " Dundee, %Zd Sept. 1828. 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 "I deeply sympathize with you under the 
 heavy bereavement you have been called to suf- 
 fer. May the God of all comfort be himself your 
 comforter. You are not left to sorrow as those 
 who have no hope. The Saviour has shed a 
 blessed lig-ht on the darkness of the tomb. He 
 hath risen as the first-fruits of them that slept, 
 and the harvest in due time shall be gathered in. 
 The proverbial joy of harvest becomes thus as- 
 sociated with the vale of death, as we anticipate 
 the period when the night of death shall give 
 way to the dawn of the resurrection morn. In 
 the mean time the spirit has fled to a happier re- 
 gion, where all is light and joy and immortality. 
 Your friend really exists elsewhere, and you 
 have the assurance that all her valued worth 
 still lives — more truly lives — through the com- 
 
221 MEMOIR OF 
 
 munications of that grace which commenced it 
 here, and hath perfected it in the sacred temple 
 of her God. The peace which the gospel thus 
 communicates to the afflicted mourner bears the 
 impress of that blessed region whither the Sa- 
 viour hath gone. May you abundantly feel that 
 He, amid all the glories of that hallowed land, is 
 now imparting this peace to you as one whose 
 case has been singly considered ; whose feelings 
 have been most minutely weighed, and whose 
 every want has been regarded. He can stanch 
 the wounds of the bleeding heart, and satisfy 
 the desires of the immortal spirit, when rising 
 above the ills of life, its views are directed to 
 Him in whose presence there is fulness of joy, 
 and at whose right hand there are pleasures 
 for evermore. Henceforth the thoughts of 
 the departed will be associated in your mind 
 with the services and the joys of that hallowed 
 abode. 
 
 " What a mercy that our views are not bound- 
 ed by the narrow margin of the grave, but stretch 
 to the throne of the high and lofty One who in- 
 habited! eternity. 
 
 " I beg to be remembered to Miss Cathcart. I 
 am glad to learn that she is fast recovering, and 
 that you are in the same condition. 
 
 " Praying that you may have abundant grace 
 for all your trials and your labours, 
 
 " I remain, my dear Sir,. 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 "David Russel." 
 
MRS. EWING. 365 
 
 "Pinkie Burn, Musselburgh, Sept. 24, 1828. 
 w My dear, very dear Sir, 
 
 " Now when it is all over, allow a feeble 
 brother, and a mourning brother, to express his 
 most affectionate condolence, and tender sym- 
 pathy with you on this deeply affecting occa- 
 sion. I am persuaded that this is not necessary on 
 your account, because you will have many such 
 expressions ; and had you none such, you enjoy, 
 I doubt not, the supporting influence of the 
 tender sympathy of Him who ' died for us, that 
 whether we wake or sleep, we should live to- 
 gether with him." But it is necessary on my 
 own account; I could not easily restrain my- 
 self from saying something, were it only, that 
 it is impossible for me to express my own feel- 
 ings, and those of my dear partner for these 
 eight days. 
 
 " My loss is very great indeed. What a valu- 
 able correspondent ; what a valuable fellow-la- 
 bourer in the good work on which both our 
 hearts were set, is taken away ; what a hospita- 
 ble friend is gone ! I feel that the loss of many 
 in whose welfare I am interested is very great ; 
 there is not another of the same sex whose re- 
 moval would have been so felt among our 
 churches and brother ministers. Indeed, this is 
 saying but little. But what, my dear Sir, is 
 your loss! And yet, the desire of your eyes 
 has been taken away with a stroke, by Him who 
 gave himself for your redemption, and her re- 
 
166 MEMOIR OF 
 
 demption, and who has honoured you both here 
 above many, and made you both meet for the 
 everlasting inheritance. And I am sure you 
 are the first to justify Him who guides all the 
 wheels of nature, and to say that he had a right 
 to do, according to his own mind, as to the time, 
 and place, and manner of taking his own, of 
 whom for a season he had make a gracious loan 
 to you. 
 
 "Your loss is her gain. Our tears of sorrow 
 have of late been mingled with tears of joy in 
 hearing a little about the end of dear Mrs. Ew- 
 ing. What we have heard, animating as it is, 
 is not more than what we should have expect- 
 ed, seeing her heavenly Father kindly permit- 
 ted her to retain possession of all her powers of 
 mind and speech to the last. We might have 
 concluded that she would leave the world, as 
 she passed through it : And we ought to bless 
 God for another proof of the power of grace 
 and faith. We should like to hear more than 
 we have yet heard ; but this we cannot expect 
 for some time. 
 
 " I feel anxious also, my dear Sir, to know 
 something more of your state; I mean your 
 bodily health, and the result of your hurt, for I 
 believe that your mind is tranquil. Do not, 
 however, suppose that I expect you to write to 
 me : but perhaps some friend might by and by 
 command as much time. Mrs. W. and I feel 
 anxious also to know about our esteemed friend, 
 
MRS. EWING. 167 
 
 Miss Cathcart, whom we fondly trust the Lord 
 kindly supports and deals tenderly with. 
 
 " May the Lord bless you and keep you, and 
 make his face to shine upon you : your sorrow 
 will soon be turned to joy. Believe us to be 
 your sympathizing friends. 
 
 " My dear, very dear Sir, 
 " Ever yours, 
 "John Watson." 
 
 " Grove Lane, Sept 25th, 1828. 
 " My dear afflicted Friend, 
 
 " I sit down the first moment of leisure and 
 composure I have enjoyed since the melancholy 
 tidings reached me, which they did, the day af- 
 ter I wrote you last, to express — but that I can- 
 not adequately do — what I feel respecting the 
 loss, which you and the cause of Christ, and I 
 also, have sustained. God only knows how 
 fondly I loved and venerated her, and how 
 much my heart bleeds for you. Her removal 
 engrosses me too much to think even of the 
 painful circumstances under which it took place, 
 and of what has befallen you all. I feel that I 
 have been deprived of one whose love and confi- 
 dence I had long been privileged to enjoy — who 
 often aided me by her counsel, and comforted me 
 when depressed ; whose letters, though often 
 imperfectly answered, were always deeply inter- 
 esting; and on whose life I had calculated for 
 many years to come as a blessing to you and to 
 
168 MEMOIR OF 
 
 many. Little did I think when I parted with 
 you last, that we should not meet again in this 
 vale of tears, and that I should be called so soon 
 to condole with you on the heaviest loss you 
 could sustain. We have been in various ways 
 fellow-sufferers, and are likely to be so to the 
 end of our earthly pilgrimage. It is well — we 
 know that it is all well. Goodness and mercy 
 have surely followed us all the days of our life ; 
 and we shall dwell together with those who are 
 not lost, but gone before, in our Father's house, 
 when mortality shall be swallowed up of life. 
 It is delightful to think of such a life, and of 
 such a death too, as that of your beloved wife. 
 What an encouragement to hold fast, and to 
 hold on, and to be followers of her who by faith 
 and patience has gone to inherit the promises! 
 Her energy of mind, decision of character, and 
 combination of sound judgment, with unwearied 
 activity and benevolence, all formed under the 
 influence of Christian principle and correct 
 feeling, were a rare exemplification of what the 
 grace of God can do ; while her course shows 
 what such a combination can effect. But I need 
 not speak of what she was to you — God has 
 taken her to himself— and it becomes us to bow 
 with silent submission before his sovereign au- 
 thority. Be comforted, my beloved brother ; you 
 have long enjoyed an invaluable blessing — it is 
 removed but for a little — laid up in heaven, 
 
MRS. EWING. 169 
 
 where it will be safely kept till that great day, 
 for which all other days were made. 
 
 " I cannot tell you the distress and interest 
 which this event has excited even in this vast 
 place. Every body sympathizes with you. I 
 informed our friends of it last Lord's day, and 
 endeavoured to make some improvement of it, 
 and begged them to pray for you. They were 
 all exceedingly distressed, and have since been 
 making many inquiries about you. I have writ- 
 ten a short, but I fear an imperfect notice for 
 the Magazine of next month, as many I know 
 expect it. I am now greatly anxious to hear 
 about you and poor Miss Cathcart, who has lost 
 a sister for a little ; but it may be to gain a bro- 
 ther forever. 
 
 "Adieu, my dear friend! may He who com- 
 forteth those that are cast down, eminently 
 bless and comfort you under this sorrow, that 
 you may yet be enabled to comfort many others. 
 
 " With united sympathy for yourself and 
 Miss Cathcart, 1 ever am, yours in the strictest 
 bonds of love and fellowship, 
 
 "W. Orme." 
 
 From the Congregational Magazine for October 
 
 1828. 
 
 " It is with feelings of no ordinary sorrow, 
 that we record the death of i this truly excel- 
 P 
 
170 MEMOIR OF 
 
 lent and estimable individual. Most of our read- 
 ers will have been apprised ere this time of the 
 distressing circumstances under which it occurr- 
 ed. 
 
 " Thus by a mysterious and painful dispensa- 
 tion, have the church of Christ, and a large circle 
 of attached friends, been deprived of one of the 
 brightest ornaments of the Christian profession, 
 whom it lias been our privilege to know. — 
 Though placed in circumstances of affluence 
 and of great temptation, she was led at an 
 early period of life, to receive the gospel, and 
 by the grace of God she was enabled eminently 
 to adore its doctrines for a long course of years. 
 The firmness of her mind, and the inflexibility of 
 her principles, appeared in her resistance of eve- 
 ry inducement to act contrary to what she believ- 
 ed to be opposed to the word of God, and in her 
 becoming a member of a small Dissenting church, 
 long before her connexion with her esteemed 
 husband. Connected as she was, by birth and 
 outward circumstances, with the first families 
 in Scotland, she counted it her highest hon- 
 our to be known as a Christian, and her great- 
 est privilege to be the wife of a Dissenting 
 minister. Her energy of character was ex- 
 traordinary, her activity unceasing, her benev- 
 olence unwearied, and only limited by her 
 own resources, or those of her friends, which 
 were frequently placed at her disposal. Her 
 great object through life was usefulness, and to 
 
MRS. EWING. 171 
 
 enjoy it, she was utterly regardless of the opinion 
 of the world, and of all persona] labour or sacri- 
 fice. It was impossible to be in her society 
 without feeling that she was a woman of no or- 
 dinary description, and not easy to leave her 
 company without retaining some impression of 
 her useful and edifying conversation. Her cor- 
 respondence was extensive, especially among 
 the ministers of the Congregational churches in 
 Scotland, to whose comfort she ministered both 
 in spiritual and temporal things, in the most ef- 
 ficient and persevering manner. She was, in 
 the best sense of the expression, ' a mother in 
 Israel,' and a ' succourer of many,' who will long 
 deplore the loss they have sustained, while they 
 will ever rejoice in the abundant grace confer- 
 red upon her. We could say much more were 
 we to do justice to what we know ; and we 
 should not know when to stop, were we to say 
 what we feel. Thus much we have felt our- 
 selves bound to state, in the discharge of public 
 duty, and of personal friendship and affection." 
 
 Extract from a Sermon, delivered by Mr. Orme to 
 his church at Camberwell, on James iv. 13. "Ye 
 know not what shall be on the morrow." 
 From Notes taken by a Lady. 
 
 " I have offered these few remarks from the 
 impression made on my own mind, in reference 
 to the very painful occurrence to which I ad- 
 
172 MEMOIR OF 
 
 verted this morning, and which has lately be- 
 fallen the family of my much esteemed friend, 
 Mr. Evving. I know not scarcely in what terms 
 to advert to this very trying dispensation. I 
 need scarcely say to you, that between that in- 
 dividual and myself, and his family, indeed, a 
 long and a very intimate connexion has subsist- 
 ed ; his name stands connected with my earliest 
 associations and feelings in the profession and 
 in the ministry of the gospel ; during more than 
 twenty years we have lived together, on terms 
 of the most intimate and endeared correspon- 
 dence. I need scarcely refresh your memories 
 by a reference to the exquisitely tender manner, 
 in which he addressed the individual who is now 
 addressing you.* You may easily conceive, 
 under such circumstances, what I must have 
 felt when I first heard the painful occurrence 
 which has filled not only that family, but a very 
 large circle of Christians, and even of others 
 also, with a degree of sorrow that is very rarely 
 experienced. 
 
 " Such, my friends, is the amount of the mel- 
 ancholy event ; melancholy it is in many re- 
 spects, and yet in connexion with it there are 
 considerations full of consolation, and which af- 
 ford the richest hope to the minds of all who 
 were acquainted with the respected individual 
 who is now no more. 
 
 * At Mr. Orme's settlement at Camberwell. 
 
MRS. EWING. 173 
 
 "Of Mrs. Ewing, I scarcely know how to ex- 
 press myself in the presence of those who did 
 not enjoy her acquaintance ; I scarcely know 
 such another female in the profession of the gos- 
 pel of our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 " She received the gospel of Christ in circum- 
 stances that made that gospel peculiarly dear to 
 her, and produced a powerful impression on her 
 mind, and a revolution of character and conduct 
 which were apparent to all ; and from the mo- 
 ment of her profession of the gospel up to the 
 last period of her life, she acted with a degree 
 of decision that is scarcely equalled.— She re- 
 ceived the gospel as I have stated, she acted thus 
 under its influence, she left the establishment of 
 the country, and in all the connexions in which 
 she lived and moved; in connexion with the 
 church in our body in Scotland, she has left a 
 testimony and an impression which I am sure 
 cannot be forgotten during the life of most of the 
 individuals who belong to that body ; she was 
 unwearied in her activity, in her benevolence, 
 in her dispensations of kindness, and she pos- 
 sessed the esteem and confidence of hundreds 
 who must therefore sorrow in no ordinary meas- 
 ure -' 1 shall live and die with the most power- 
 ful impression of her character and kindness." 
 
 "Elgin, 25th Sept. 1828. 
 " My very dear Sir, 
 
 " The severe bereavement with which it has 
 
 pleased our Heavenly Father recently to visit 
 
174 MEMOIR OF 
 
 you, in the removal to himself of your excellent 
 and dear partner in life — and our generous, 
 faithful, and lamented friend, has struck us all 
 in the north like a thunderbolt. It was alto- 
 gether so sudden and unexpected to us, that it 
 has stunned us like the shock of an earthquake. 
 The vibration is general among our churches in 
 these northern parts. We all feel as if we had 
 lost in her removal, a long tried, and firm 
 friend — an affectionate sister — and a mother of 
 our Israel. Our pastors and churches in this 
 quarter look upon the mournful event as the 
 first public bereavement which, as a body, we 
 have met with. In our judgment we knew 
 that she was mortal; — and, although she fre- 
 quently had very poor health, yet we had flat- 
 tered ourselves that our heavenly Father might, 
 for many years to come, spare her for a blessing 
 to you — her family — the public in your populous 
 city, and especially to the churches of the con- 
 gregational body in Scotland — to the poorest of 
 which she had been so long a most efficient, and 
 generous friend. ' Many daughters have done 
 virtuously' — but when we think of her sound 
 sense, her fervent piety, her decision of princi- 
 ple, her activity and energy of character, the 
 deep interest she took in the comfort of the poor 
 pastors and the condition of their families — and 
 the sympathetic care for all the churches, — with- 
 out exaggeration or invidious comparison, we 
 •cannot help thinking—' that she excelled them 
 
MRS. EWING. 175 
 
 all.' ' She has been a succourer of many, and of 
 myself also.' But I almost forget that I am 
 writing to her surviving husband, whom she has 
 left to feel and deplore his loss — and who is a 
 thousand fold better qualified than I can be to 
 appreciate her sterling worth, and to estimate 
 his own and our loss. But we rejoice to think 
 that our loss has been her unspeakable and ever- 
 lasting gain. Neither you nor we, my dear Sir, 
 are called to mourn over her ashes as those who 
 have no hope. And while it is a consideration 
 that may partly add to the pungency of your 
 grief; yet in another respect you have been 
 highly favoured of the Lord even to have had 
 such a partner in life— such a suitable help-meet 
 for you in the kingdom and patience of our com- 
 mon Lord— and that he spared her so long with 
 you in the wilderness. 
 
 Although, my dear Sir, she has left you like a 
 shattered oak a little longer to weather the 
 storms of the wilderness; yet I am sure many 
 thousand prayers will be presented to the mercy- 
 seat of our heavenly Father at this crisis, for 
 grace and strength to yourself— your family— 
 and flock, to sweeten, soften, and sanctify the 
 mournful event to all your souls. A thousand 
 streams of Christian sympathy will flow from as 
 many hearts, and will run in one strong current 
 along with you, on this occasion. ' Although 
 your own character were less known, and less 
 valued by us all than it really is— your having 
 
176 memoir or 
 
 been the husband of Mrs. Eiving would make 
 you a point of attraction, and the subject of our 
 most sincere sympathy and condolence at this 
 time. But above all, you and we have a Great 
 High Priest passed into the heavens, who can 
 pour into your soul the balm of mercy, and the 
 oil of gospel gladness, so as to render you per- 
 fectly comforted and happy, under your severe, 
 and otherwise irreparable loss. We trust he 
 also will do it — you know him who was dead and 
 is alive — and who lives for evermore — and who 
 can sustain under the most weighty trials and 
 bereavements. For none of us liveth to himself, 
 and no man dieth to himself. But whether we 
 live, we live unto the Lord— or whether we die, 
 we die unto the Lord— Living or dying we 
 are the Lord's. For to this end Jesus both died, 
 and rose, and revived, that he might be Lord 
 both of the dead and the living. 'Death-divid- 
 ed friends will soon meet to part no more.' May 
 it be our great concern, to occupy till the Lord 
 come — to be faithful unto death— and in due time 
 we shall receive the crown of life. 
 
 "I have very lately had a letter from Mr. 
 Dewar, and another from Mr. Martin, in which 
 they express their deep regret at the decease of 
 Mrs. Ewing— and their sincere sympathy with 
 you, your family, friends, and flock, under this 
 breach. Messrs. Martin and Munro are this 
 week out on a preaching excursion on the banks 
 of the Dee and Don. Mr. Martin, in his letter 
 
MRS. EWING. 177 
 
 to me, wishes me very much to write to you 
 
 and to express our united affection, and tender 
 sympathy for you and the family, on this occa- 
 sion. Indeed there can only be one common 
 feeling, among all our pastors and churches in 
 the north, in contemplating the removal of our 
 dear departed friend— and in sympathizing with 
 theVhief mourner. Her memorial will long be 
 embalmed in all our memories. Associations 
 and recollections of Mrs. Ewing, somehow or 
 other, have for many years been blended with 
 all our itinerating exertions in the north. No 
 person ever did, or ever could take a deeper in- 
 terest in these operations, than she did ; and a 
 vivid recollection of those things, if we are spar- 
 ed to live and labour in the Lord's vineyard, 
 must still mingle with our country excursions for 
 many years to come. It would be gratifying 
 for us to hear either from you — or of you by 
 
 some of the friends, at the earliest convenience 
 
 and how each who were confined by the acci- 
 dent are recovering. Mrs. M'Neil unites with 
 me in kindest regards, and affectionate sympa- 
 thy for you, Miss Cathcart, and all the family. 
 May the God of love and peace be with you all ! 
 " I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 "Yours most cordially, 
 
 "N. M'Neil." 
 Q 
 
178 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " Edinburgh, Sept. 28th, 1828. 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " God be with you, my friend, in this hour 
 
 of darkness, and you will find light in the Lord. 
 God be with you, my brother, in this awful soli- 
 tude and grief; and although the earth quakes, 
 and the prison walls tremble, and the iron not 
 only fetters the members, but enters your soul, 
 with Paul and Silas, you shall sing. Yea, you 
 shall sing at midnight, and joy shall assuredly 
 come in the morning. So, for years, you have 
 told others, and you shall yet tell it them again, 
 and with this addition— that so yourself have 
 found it. 
 
 " It is a very severe, but not a new or strange 
 thing which has happened to you, and I know, 
 that as soon as it took place, you were prepared 
 to say, The Lord has done it, and he is wise in 
 all his ways, and holy in all his works, and what 
 more can be added than that, The will of the Lord 
 be done. ' The Lord gave, and the Lord hath 
 taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.' 
 —Think not that I am ignorant of the greatness, 
 or insensible to the value of your loss.— To you 
 I well know it is beyond estimation or compari- 
 son. Well ! but is it on this account less un- 
 worthy to be given to God ! or will it be less 
 acceptable to him ? 
 
 " If I mistake not, three-fourths of the day of 
 life, according to the reckoning of Moses, has 
 nearly passed with you, and at the close of the 
 
MRS. EWING. 179 
 
 day this gift will be again restored to you — but 
 O ! in what different circumstances. It was 
 taken away in the midst of tears, and lamenta- 
 tions, and mourning, and wo, and miserable an- 
 ticipations, (I had almost said fie upon it,) but it 
 will be given back with gladness, and with 
 mirth, and with triumph, and with joy, and in 
 assured hope of life immortal. — O! how unlike 
 is God's mode of giving, to that of man. — Com- 
 fort yourself, my dear Sir, with the belief of 
 these truths, and your spirit, like Jacob when 
 he saw the waggons, will come again, and you 
 will receive beauty for ashes, and the oil of fes- 
 tivity and joy, for the spirit of heaviness. — In the 
 meantime, there is one fact of which you wiJl 
 permit me to remind you. There is a cup, you 
 know, a fearful cup, denominated in the Scrip- 
 ture, the cup of trembling, for reasons I need 
 not detail to you. — This awful cup was original- 
 ly prepared for you, and when it was just about 
 to be put into your hands, there was a friend 
 that said, Give it to me, and it was given to him ; 
 and for your sake, and from love to you, capa- 
 cious as it was, he drank it, and left not a drop, 
 no not one drop behind. But though there is 
 not a drop left, the scent remains. He has just 
 now, it seems, put this cup into your hands, and 
 though you cannot taste, you have found a little 
 of the scent thereof, and it is horrible.— And it' 
 the scent be horrible, think what the full draught 
 must have been. It will lead you to fellowship 
 
180 MEMOIR OF 
 
 both in the suffering and the love of Him that 
 drank it for you — and if you suffer with him, you 
 shall also reign with him. May that be my case 
 as well as yours ; and believe me to be, with much 
 esteem and regard, my dear Sir, 
 
 " Your friend and servant, 
 
 « T. S. J ." 
 
 " Hackney, 24f/i Sept. 1828. ' 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " I can now fully enter into the feelings, which 
 not long ago you expressed in a very kind and 
 sympathizing letter to me. I scarcely kuow how 
 to venture to address you under an affliction so 
 overwhelming as yours. Yet I know and I re- 
 joice that I am addressing one who has long 
 been familiar with those considerations which 
 infinite wisdom and paternal love have deemed 
 the best solace for the bereaved heart. I do 
 not doubt, my dear friend, that you have realiz- 
 ed the sustaining influence of that 'strong con- 
 solation' which the Divine Comforter well knows 
 how to infuse into the agonized spirit. I have 
 myself found scarcely any thought so soothing 
 under moments of anguish, as the persuasion that 
 the beloved companion of so many years has 
 actually entered into the rest and blessedness 
 of a perfected and glorified spirit in the presence 
 of Jesus ! To dwell on this contemplation, gives 
 a feeling of submission and repose, even when 
 the heart almost refuses to be comforted. And 
 then, rightly viewed, how short is the interval of 
 
MRS. EWING. 181 
 
 separation, between the one that is taken and 
 the one that is left! Soon will the re-union be 
 effected ; and oh, under circumstances how 
 blissful, how transporting ! What perfection 
 of character, what perfection of blessedness ; 
 what perpetuity of ecstatic joy ! What consum- 
 mate wisdom will appear in dispensations which 
 now seen enveloped in mysterious obscurity ! 
 And even now, my dear Sir, we are learning, I 
 trust, to say, with filial confidence and submis- 
 sion, ' It is well !' 
 
 " It has been only through the public papers 
 that I have received the heart-rending tidings of 
 dear Mrs. Ewing which have occasioned this 
 letter. I need not tell you, my dear friend, that 
 I shall never cease to cherish many tender and 
 many grateful recollections associated with her 
 character and her name. Greatly I honoured 
 her, and much I loved her. I always regarded 
 her as a Christian elevated, by more than ordi- 
 nary communications from the spirit of Christ, to 
 decided eminence of Christian character. I 
 think I know how to estimate, in some degree, 
 the loss which not only my beloved friend, but 
 which the church also has sustained. But then 
 He who made her what she was and what now 
 she is, remains the same in Himself- — the same 
 to us ! Let us trust him — let us submit to him — 
 let us find in him reasons for repose. 
 
 " I much long to receive some account of my 
 dear lamented friend's last hours. Can you, 
 
182 MEMOIR OF 
 
 amidst your sorrows, find time to favour with a 
 few lines, one who so deeply sympathizes with 
 your grief? If not, would Miss Cathcart so far 
 show me this kindness, for which I should be 
 inexpressibly grateful. I beg most kind remem- 
 brance to her, and ever am, 
 
 " My very dear friend, most cordially yours, 
 "H. F.Burder. 
 
 " Wrentham, %9tk Sept. 1828. 
 " Very dear Sir, 
 
 " I have been exceedingly grieved to hear of 
 the heavy and painful affliction with which you 
 have recently been visited in the loss of Mrs. 
 Ewing, in circumstances which must have filled 
 you with unspeakable distress. I have not yet 
 seen any of the accounts contained in the Lon- 
 don papers of the awful accident which has 
 plunged you into the deep waters of affliction ; 
 but I have heard from those who have, the pain- 
 ful particulars of the melancholy event, and I 
 hasten to assure you of my tenderest and most 
 affectionate sympathy, and of my fervent prayers 
 that you may be enabled in this hour of trial to 
 cast your burden on the Lord, and that you may 
 find him a refuge and strength, a present help 
 in trouble. 
 
 "It is a great consolation to know that, how- 
 ever casual and accidental events may appear 
 to us, they are all under the direction of Him 
 who is infinite in wisdom and goodness, who 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 183 
 
 numbers the hairs of our heads, and without 
 whose knowledge a sparrow does not fall to the 
 ground ; particularly as he has assured us that 
 all things shall work together for good to 
 them that love him, and are the called ac- 
 cording to his purpose. You have also the con- 
 solation of reflecting, that though this event is 
 painful to you, it has produced a delightful 
 change in the condition of the dear object of 
 your affections, and translated her from a world 
 of sin and sorrow, to one of purity and bliss, 
 and everlasting joy, where there shall be no 
 more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither 
 shall there be any more pain, the former things 
 being passed away. You have only occasion to 
 weep for yourself — for those friends to whom 
 she was dear, and from whom she is now sepa- 
 rated — and for those objects of her Christian 
 compassion whom she laboured to benefit, both 
 as to their temporal and spiritual interest. She 
 has joined the spirits of the just made perfect ; 
 and being absent from the body, she is now 
 present with the Lord — and the time is not far 
 distant, when you will again enjoy her society 
 in all the perfection and rapture of heaven. 
 Weeping may endure for a night, but joy com- 
 eth in the morning. The ransomed of the Lord 
 shall return, and come to Zion with songs and 
 everlasting joy upon their heads ; they shall ob- 
 tain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing 
 flee away. And in the meantime, our afflic- 
 
184 MEMOIR OF 
 
 tions, which, comparatively speaking, are light 
 and but for a moment, are working out for us 
 a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glo- 
 ry. 
 
 "I am myself at present but poorly in health, 
 having suffered last week three paroxysms of 
 intermittent fever ; but I am, I hope, convales- 
 cent, as I escaped the fit last Lord's day evening. 
 Indeed, I have suffered more from indisposition 
 in the last two years, than I had done for more 
 than thirty years before. But God does all 
 things well; and while he has afflicted me less 
 than my iniquities deserve, he has bestowed up- 
 on me mercies both temporal and spiritual, 
 which I cannot contemplate without admiring 
 gratitude. O that my gratitude were more of an 
 active principle, and impelled me to make more 
 vigorous exertions to promote the glory of my 
 great Benefactor. 
 
 "In all our afflictions there is a mixture of 
 mercy — and I consider it as a great mercy 
 that your valuable life has been spared, and that, 
 as I understand, you have not sustained any 
 material injury in your own person. I doubt 
 not, that when time and Christian principle 
 have, in some measure, abated the perturbation 
 of spirit, occasioned by the awful shock which 
 you have sustained, you will be able to perceive 
 and acknowledge the mercies which have been 
 mingled in the event, which in one of its results 
 has plunged you into an abyss of grief. O that 
 
MRS. EWING. 185 
 
 the Father of mercies, and God of all comfort 
 and consolation, may cheer you with his sym- 
 pathy and with the light of his countenance. 
 And now, I commend you to him and to the 
 word of his grace, which is able to build you 
 up, and to give you an inheritance among all 
 them that are sanctified. Mrs. Ritchie unites in 
 kindest and most sympathizing regards to you 
 and Miss Cathcart ; and I am, 
 
 " Yours with great respect and affection, 
 
 "Andrew Ritchie." 
 
 « Sheffield, Sept 30th, 1828. 
 "My dear Sir, 
 
 " I am desirous to express my sympathy with 
 you, in the great affliction with which it has 
 pleased God to visit you. I am only acquaint- 
 ed with the general fact, and such circumstan- 
 ces as were detailed in the public prints. Pos- 
 sibly these are not either full or correct : But it 
 is not to be supposed that you have time and 
 spirits to correct or enlarge these accounts. 
 Thus much we know, in general, that you have 
 been deprived of the friend and companion of 
 many years, in a way that must add not a little 
 to the bitterness of the trial. 
 
 " I am not forgetful of the great consolation 
 you have from the frame of mind, and happy 
 experience of our late friend, in the most try- 
 ing of all seasons. And even if this had not 
 been so, and she had been suddenly taken away,. 
 
186 MEMOIR OF 
 
 or otherwise unable to express herself comfort- 
 ably, yet we are all fully assured of her safety, 
 from the solid evidence of eminent and consist- 
 ent piety, that our consolation needed not to be 
 less, than it now is. Still there is mercy in the 
 cup of sorrow, as matters were ordered by a 
 gracious Providence : and you who were near 
 all the time, and knew all, must have strong con- 
 solation. 
 
 "We are not called to think of those that 
 sleep in Jesus, as lost or dead, or even as entire- 
 ly severed from us. For we are come to the 
 spirits of just men made perfect — we are all one 
 family in heaven and in earth. They prevent 
 us, indeed, and thus have the advantage: but it 
 is only for a time ; and even now, they are only 
 taken to a higher mansion of the house of our 
 Father. 
 
 "For this they had been prepared by the 
 teaching and discipline of God's house here be- 
 low : and being prepared for it, they are taken 
 up higher into the presence of God. Yet they 
 may know much of what concerns us here. 
 We know much of what they do there — and we 
 may, in our measure, do and feel as they. 
 
 " But their departure may be meant to pre- 
 pare us to follow them. Certainly it cuts some 
 of the cords that bind us to the earth — it raises 
 the soul to the place where they dwell. The 
 world is darker, and more cold by their depar- 
 ture — heaven has one additional attraction to 
 
MRS. EWING. 187 
 
 what it had before. Thus, perhaps, were they 
 removed, that we might be made sooner and 
 more fully meet to follow. 
 
 " Meantime, it were wrong to weep and sor- 
 row as those who have no hope. We should 
 comfort ourselves with such words as are found 
 in the sacred word. 
 
 "Nor should the world, and life, and duty, 
 become so insipid, that our hands shall hang 
 down, and our knees grow feeble, and the du- 
 ties of life, with the labours of the gospel, grow 
 uninteresting. This were both sinful and un- 
 wise. Rather let us work while it is day, since 
 the night cometh when no man can work. My 
 hope and prayer is, that God will give such sup- 
 port, that neither your health nor spirits shall 
 fail, nor your labours or studies be long inter- 
 rupted. They will, I am sure, assume a holier 
 character, and a more elevated tone ; and thus 
 many may profit by your trials. Your loss may 
 thus be gain to many, and one who served the 
 Lord in life, may more eminently serve him at 
 her departure. With best wishes, piayers, and 
 sympathy, in which I am joined by Mrs. S. 
 " I am, my dear Sir, 
 " Yours ever truly, 
 
 "Thomas Smith." 
 
 "Huntly,2d Oct. 1828. 
 " My very dear Sir, 
 
 "You will excuse me for intruding upon you 
 merely to express my deepest sympathy. Wheia 
 
188 memoir or 
 
 the tidings of dear Mrs. Ewing's death reached 
 this, I was confined to bed by a serious attack. 
 They concealed the news from me until the vio- 
 lence of the disease was broken. For some 
 days after I durst never think of her, but as en- 
 joying consummate bliss; nor of you, but as 
 supported by the arm of your heavenly Master. 
 My after reflections I dare not, even now, give 
 vent to. But I determined, the first day I was able 
 to sit up to write, to inform you that there are 
 here who both feel much, and pray for you under 
 your present deep distress. I cannot ask you to 
 write ; while I feel most anxious to hear how 
 you are, and also of Miss Cathcart. Mrs. Ew- 
 ing was my only Glasgow correspondent ; and 
 the high enjoyment I had from her pleasing, in- 
 structive, and affectionate letters, shall be cher- 
 ished while I live. Often they refreshed me 
 when ready to give way to thoughts of a de- 
 sponding nature but she is in the land 
 
 where the sun goes no more down. I cannot 
 enlarge. May the Father of mercies make good 
 to you his great promise, ' I will never leave 
 thee ! ' 
 
 " Mrs. Hill joins me most cordially in every 
 expression of Christian regard and tender feel- 
 ing; and I am, 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " Most affectionately yours, 
 
 "John Hill." 
 
MRS. EWING. 189 
 
 "Edinburgh, Oct. 3, 1828. 
 M My dear Sir, 
 
 " Few things could have gratified the feelings 
 of my heart, more than the receipt of your 
 kind letter, and inestimable token of my much 
 loved friend's recollection of me. Inexpressi- 
 bly [painful, yet pleasant, are such proofs of af- 
 fection from one so much lamented, and so much 
 beloved. 
 
 "Were it not to acknowledge my gratitude 
 for such favours, I should not have had courage 
 to intrude my feeble expressions of sympathy on 
 your grief; for you require not words to inform 
 you, how deeply I share in your bitter cup 
 of sorrow. I am afraid I have grieved too 
 much, and been selfishly saying, such a friend 
 as I have lost, the world cannot make up to me ; 
 not sufficiently considering the far greater loss 
 which you, dear Sir, have sustained, in the best 
 of wives, and one of the brightest ornaments of 
 Christianity. But the work assigned her by un- 
 erring Wisdom on earth was accomplished; and 
 you have been enabled to give her up, and kiss 
 the rod with a firm dependance upon the wis- 
 dom, power, and goodness of God, proving that 
 though cast down, not destroyed : cleaving to 
 him still as the anchor and support of your soul ; 
 and he will continue to be so, although for the 
 present the turbulent billows are passing over 
 your soul. 
 
 " I have dwelt much of late, as applicable to 
 her for whom I must weep, on St. Paul's words, 
 
190 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Rom. viii. 18. 'For I reckon that the sufferings 
 of this present time are not worthy to be com- 
 pared with the glory which shall be revealed!' 
 and now has been revealed to her rejoicing sight! 
 
 " May the wish which she has bequeathed me, 
 and seconded by you, be blessed as a fresh in- 
 citement to urge my cold dull heart, to strive 
 more earnestly than ever ; to be ready when the 
 summons comes, to meet her at the right hand 
 God, and join in triumphant songs of hosannah 
 to the Son of David. It soothed my heart to 
 learn from Mr. Matheson, that the Lord so emi- 
 nently assisted you in going through the public 
 duties of last Lord's day : you were much on 
 our heart at that period — we trusted He would 
 be with you. He will always be with you, — He 
 will never leave you, never, never forsake you, 
 till you finish your course, and join her who is 
 now before the throne. 
 
 " We do share in your grief, we pray for your 
 consolation, but God alone can heal your wounds. 
 To Him I commit you, and am, much esteemed 
 and very dear Sir, 
 
 " Your sympathizing and affectionate, 
 
 «M. C. T r." 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " It was with the deepest sorrow for the loss 
 sustained by the poor congregational churches 
 in Scotland, and with heartfelt sympathy for 
 
MRS. EWING. 191 
 
 you, that I heard of the accident that happened 
 to you, Mrs. Ewing, and your other friends, and 
 of the subsequent death of our dear and valua- 
 ble friend Mrs. Ewing. Of her it might be tru- 
 ly said, that she was a mother in Israel. She 
 was a succourer of many, and of me also ; and 
 in' her, I may say, that I and my family have 
 lost our best friend in the world ; for there was 
 not another individual alive, that took such an 
 interest in us, or did so much for us, as she did, 
 since I had the happiness of being introduced 
 to her acquaintance. But oh ! what a joyful 
 consideration, that our temporal loss is her eter- 
 nal gain ; and how should it enhance the value 
 of the gospel in our esteem ; when we are as- 
 sured that they, who sleep in Jesus, God will 
 bring with him. Hence we are not left to mourn 
 as those that have no hope, for blessed are the 
 dead, who die in the Lord, for from henceforth 
 they shall rest from their labours, and their 
 works shall follow them. In a short time all the 
 true followers of the Lamb shall meet in that 
 place where there is no more sin, curse, or' 
 death, where the pangs of separation shall 
 never be left, by the kindred spirits of saints — 
 and where sorrow and sighing shall have no 
 place — but where he, in whose strength they 
 have fought and conquered, shall set them up as 
 pillars in the temple of his God, never more to 
 go out. I rejoice to think that under your heavy 
 bereavement, and bodily affliction, you have 
 
192 MEMOIR OF 
 
 such consolations to support you ; and besides 
 this I am sure that as far as the sympathies and 
 prayers of brethren in Christ are a comfort to a 
 believer under affliction, this comfort is yours to 
 a great extent. It is my earnest prayer that the 
 God that did deliver, and doth deliver, may yet 
 deliver you, and spare you to be a blessing in the 
 important sphere in which he hath called you to 
 move. My brother requests of me to say, that 
 he feels deeply interested in your trial, and wish- 
 es to be remembered to you in the most affec- 
 tionate manner. Accept of this from us as a 
 token of Christian sympathy and affection. 
 " I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 " Yours in the bonds of the gospel, 
 
 Alexr. Dewar. 
 
 " Dumfries, Oct. M, 1828 . 
 " Dear and esteemed Sir, 
 
 " It was with much concern, that we heard of 
 the recent afflictive accident that occurred to 
 you and other friends, and the subsequent re- 
 moval of Mrs. Ewing, by death, occasioned by 
 that accident. 
 
 " As a church we deem it a duty we owe to 
 the memory, as well as from our deep respect 
 for you, to express our sincere condolence with 
 you, under the present afflictive, bereaving dis- 
 pensation with which our heavenly Father hath 
 seen meet to visit you. In the removal of Mrs. 
 Ewing, the churches have sustained a common 
 loss, and we believe it is felt as such ; but the 
 
MRS. EW1NG. 193 
 
 k>ss they have sustained is nothing when com- 
 pared with yours. May the Father of mercies, 
 who has been to you the ' God of all comfort,' 
 sustain you, under the power of this darkness, 
 and enable you in every remembrance of your 
 affliction, to repose with unquestioning submis- 
 sion, on his wisdom, faithfulness, and unchanging 
 love. 
 
 "While you must feel, and mourn the loss you 
 have sustained, it is cause of thanksgiving to 
 God, that you have not reason to mourn as those 
 who have no hope, but rather, as it respects her 
 who is departed, to be filled with joy ' in all your 
 tribulation.' 
 
 " We will not, dear friend, attempt to comfort 
 you by a multiplication of words, — we cannot 
 comfort you, but God can. He is the 'God of 
 all comfort ;' and while we mingle our tears and 
 sympathies with yours, we hope the prayers of 
 our hearts shall ascend to the throne of grace, 
 in your behalf. 
 
 " May your valuable life be long spared, and 
 your increased usefulness in the service of the 
 gospel give abundant, and delightful proofs, that 
 even this dispensation has been ordered by the 
 God of all peace, for the purpose of giving new 
 life to ministrations in the gospel of his Son, 
 already lively, by causing a still richer unction 
 of divine influence to rest upon them, and ren- 
 dering them to thousands the savour of life un- 
 to life. 
 
 R 
 
194 MEMOIR OF 
 
 " In the name of the church, we sign ourselves 
 yours affectionately, in the bond of the gospel. 
 " Thomas Young, Pastor, 
 "Robert Armstrong, Deacon" 
 
 « Linlathen, 4f/i Oct 1828. 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " The Lord hath done it, he who hath loved us 
 and given his Son for us, hath done it. I would 
 bless God with you, for the manifestation which 
 hft has given to us of the power of his grace, 
 both in the life, and in the death of her who has 
 been taken hence. He is faithful to perform 
 above and beyond all our narrow conceptions of 
 his promises of loving care, and consolation, and 
 support to his people, in their hour of need. I 
 have heard how she was supported, and enabled 
 to give glory to God, as she entered the dark 
 valley. The Lord grant unto us that we may be 
 followers of those who have been followers of 
 Jesus. And when we lament the termination of 
 their usefulness upon earth, and the breaking 
 off for a season of the interchange of an affec- 
 tion sanctified by the Spirit of God ; and endear- 
 ed by many remembrances,— let us think of Him 
 who is the resurrection and the life, and in him 
 find everlasting consolation. May the Lord sus- 
 tain you under this very heavy blow, and give 
 you a double portion of his Spirit, that you may 
 be enabled to comfort others with that comfort 
 wherewith your own soul has been comforted of 
 the Lord. I feel now very painfully, my not 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 195 
 
 having seen her the last time that I was in the 
 west country. I called two or three times at 
 Carlton-place, in the hope that you might per- 
 chance be in town ; and I once set off to visit 
 you in your country residence ; but when I ar- 
 rived in Glasgow, I found myself so oppressed 
 by the heat, that I made up my mind to defer it, 
 alas! to another occasion, and returned home, — 
 but we shall meet, I trust, where there is no 
 parting. 
 
 " I am sure that the deep sympathy of our af- 
 fectionate friend, Mr. S g, must have been a 
 
 great consolation to you. And, indeed, though 
 you are the chief mourner here, yet you have 
 many true mourners in your train. I am not 
 sure that I know a single individual whose loss 
 could be so much felt. The combination of so 
 much kindness, and judgment, and activity with 
 piety, is rare in the world, and cannot be taken 
 from the world without leaving a painful void in 
 the feelings of many. Wishing you much spir- 
 itual increase, 
 
 " I remain, my dear Sir, yours affectionately, 
 "T. Erskine." 
 
 " London, 31, Bedford Square, East, 6th Oct. 1828. 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " The notice in the newspapers and magazines 
 of the heavy affliction with which you have been 
 visited, has affected me much ; and had it not 
 been for the fear of intruding upon you with a 
 letter, at a time which must have been of all 
 
196 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 others to you most sacred, I should have written 
 you ere now, to assure you how deeply I fee) 
 for you, under the loss you have sustained ; and 
 how truly I sympathize with you, and your fel- 
 low-sufferers, who have survived the recent mel- 
 ancholy accident. 
 
 "The disinterested and Christian kindness 
 which I experienced during my residence in 
 Glasgow, from Mrs. Ewing, in common with 
 yourself, has made an impression on my mind 
 which will never be effaced ; and the simple rec- 
 ollection of it, at this moment, causes me to feel 
 as if, by the death of your beloved partner, I had 
 lost a mother. She was, indeed, a mother to 
 many in Israel, who will deplore, not her loss 
 (for she has gained the crown of glory that 
 awaits the faithful,) but your loss and their own. 
 Full well do I know how all the ministers of our 
 connexion in Scotland, as well as some in Eng- 
 land, will be affected at the sad intelligence al- 
 ready communicated to them. It must afford a 
 melancholy pleasure and satisfaction to your 
 mind, under your present distress, to reflect on 
 the estimation in which Mrs. Ewing was held 
 by all who knew her, and by none more than the 
 ministers of the word, who have so often been en- 
 tertained and edified under your hospitable roof. 
 The ardor of her soul, notwithstanding the 
 weakness of her bodily frame, her inextinguish- 
 able zeal for the glory of God, her inflexible in- 
 tegrity, her uniform consistency, her thirst for 
 
MRS. EWING. 197 
 
 doing good in every possible way, her benevolent 
 regard for the poor and distressed, her devoted 
 attachment to Christ, to his cause, and to his 
 people, I often witnessed with admiration. 
 These traits of her character, indeed, were visi- 
 ble to all, and worthy of imitation by all who 
 knew her, or who shall ever hear of her ; but 
 many other excellencies doubtless you must 
 had the opportunity of observing which others 
 had not. 
 
 " How inscrutable are the ways of Jehovah ! 
 That one so eminent for piety, and so useful to 
 the church, should be snatched away so sudden- 
 ly and unexpectedly ; after enduring, too, as she 
 must have done, such excruciating pain; al- 
 though it was but a few days only ! But the ex- 
 cellent of the earth are not exempted from the 
 calamities of life — on the contrary, theirs is fre- 
 quently a cup of bitterness, of which others 
 know little or nothing. 'The wicked have no 
 bands in their death.' Yet what a blessing is it, 
 that though our bodies may be tormented with 
 racking pains, our souls at last shall depart in 
 peace. Such was the case, I have good reason 
 to believe, in regard to your departed wife. But 
 I should like to have a few particulars on this 
 subject, if you, or any of your friends, would 
 take the trouble to furnish me with them, as I 
 have informed my people, that I intend to im- 
 prove Mrs. Ewing's death, next Lord's day 
 morning, in my own place. My text I believe 
 
198 MEMOIR OF 
 
 will be Judges v. 7, last clause, 'A mother in 
 Israel.' 
 
 "I earnestly trust that you and your dear 
 friends, who suffered along with you, are recov- 
 ering, or already recovered from your bruises. 
 Requesting the favour of a few lines from you, 
 if you are able to write, 
 
 " Believe me, my dear Sir, 
 
 " Yours very truly and affectionately, 
 
 "Ebenezer Miller." 
 
 It was not in the power of the grateful receiv- 
 er to comply with the request of this letter. — 
 The sermon mentioned has since been publish- 
 ed, from which an extract is subjoined. 
 
 "While she loved all who bore the image of 
 Christ, she manifested an especial regard for 
 those whom she ever identified with the pros- 
 perity of the Redeemer's kingdom on earth, viz. 
 the Ministers of the Everlasting Gospel. She re- 
 spected and loved them ' for their works' sake,' 
 and 'for the truth's sake which dwelleth in 
 them.' The interest she felt in them and their 
 work was strong and intense, and led her to 
 adopt every means within her reach for promo- 
 ting their temporal and spiritual welfare. In 
 this respect she much resembled some of her 
 own sex, whose names are honourably recorded 
 in the Book of life ; particularly those occurring 
 in Romans xvi. (e. g.) Phoebe, the servant of the 
 church at Cenchrea, of whom Paul says, ' She 
 
MRS. EWING. 199 
 
 hath been asuceourer of many and of myself al- 
 so f — or Priscilla, who, with her husband Aquila, 
 was ' a helper' to the apostle ' in Christ Jesus ;' 
 or the beloved Persis, ' who laboured much in 
 the Lord ;' or those who are referred to by the 
 same apostle, in the Epistle to the Philippians, 
 where he says, ' I entreat thee also, true yoke- 
 fellow, help those women which laboured with 
 me in the gospel, with Clement also, and with 
 other my fellow-labourers, whose names are in 
 the Book of life.' 
 
 "It was the summit of Mrs. Ewing's ambition, 
 during her pilgrimage on earth, to be useful for 
 God. For this she prayed — for this she labour- 
 ed — for this she lived — for this she made many 
 a personal sacrifice — and was willing to endure 
 reproaches, persecution, and even death itself. 
 She seemed out of her element if she were not 
 doing something that would tell in the great 
 day of account — something that would contri- 
 bute to the salvation of souls, and the advance- 
 ment of the divine glory. Among other means 
 to promote this end, she commenced, and main- 
 tained for a long series of years, a most exten- 
 sive correspondence with the ministers of our 
 different churches throughout the greater part 
 of Scotland ; entertained them in her house with 
 genuine Christian hospitality, when they hap- 
 pened to be on a visit to the city where she 
 dwelt ; edified them by her godly conversation, 
 and even inflamed their zeal for the good and 
 
200 MEMOIR OF 
 
 glorious cause in which they were engaged. 
 Nor ought I to omit noticing the uniform kind- 
 ness she displayed towards the students of 'the 
 Glasgow Theological Academy, under the care 
 of Mr. E wing and Dr. Wardlaw, in connexion 
 with which, as most of you are aware, I was 
 privileged to pursue my studies preparatory to 
 my entering on the work of the Christian minis- 
 try. The impressions produced on my mind by 
 the kind and Christian attentions which, in com- 
 mon with other of my fellow students, I received 
 from that excellent woman, can never be effaced 
 by the hand of time, nor by any, or all of the 
 vicissitudes of life. And I cannot but rejoice at 
 having an opportunity of thus publicly testifying 
 the regard which I bear to the memory of one 
 to whom I feel under unspeakable obligations, 
 and who might well be numbered among 'the 
 excellent of the earth,' as she is now, we doubt 
 not, numbered with 'the spirits of the just made 
 perfect' in heaven. Her loss will be long and 
 deeply felt by all who knew her worth, by near- 
 ly every minister and church of the Independent 
 denomination in Scotland ; by many also in Eng- 
 land and other parts of the world, and by none 
 more than her afflicted surviving partner, and 
 her numerous relatives and friends. The place 
 she has vacated will not easily be supplied. But 
 while we mourn our loss, and that of the church 
 generally, occasioned by the death of a person 
 so estimable and useful, and by the removal from 
 
MRS. EWING. 201 
 
 this world of a living example so bright ; we ought 
 also to rejoice at her 'unspeakable gain.' For 
 'blessed are the dead who die in the Lord: yea, 
 saith the Spirit, that they may rest from then- 
 labours, and their works do follow them.' She 
 is now freed from a body of sin and death. Her 
 pure and happy spirit is already before the throne 
 of the Great Eternal. She is reaping the reward 
 of her labours, beholding the glory of her God, 
 and tuning her harp of gold to sing her Saviour's 
 dying love, and to celebrate the praises of his 
 rich, and free, and matchless grace." 
 
 <• Edinburgh, 7th Oct. 1828. 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I embrace the first opportunity in my power 
 after arriving from the south, to unite in those 
 expressions of deep and affectionate sympathy 
 which your recent loss must have called from 
 many to whom the memory of our departed 
 friend is dear. My dear Sir, I could not ven- 
 ture to refer to an event which has come, so 
 near to your happiness and your tenderest affec- 
 tions, were I not assured that you have abund- 
 antly known the strong consolations of heaven- 
 ly love. O yes, we sorrow not as others who 
 have no hope ! We have words by which we 
 may comfort one another. On these words the 
 Father of mercies — blessed be his name — has 
 caused us to hope. He has spoken them effect- 
 ually to his people's hearts by his own teaching. 
 S 
 
202 MEMOIR OF 
 
 And is not this a ground for overwhelming grat- 
 itude ? Have not the great and attractive reali- 
 ties which he has discovered been better than 
 life to us amidst its best enjoyments, and have 
 they not a preciousness which affliction only en- 
 hances ? Yea, in all these tilings we are more 
 than conquerors. O what a victory is this ! a 
 victory over sin, over tribulation, over the world, 
 over evil in every shape, over death itself— a 
 victory through divine strength, through the 
 blood of the Lamb, through the hope of the 
 glory that shall be revealed. Let us then but 
 look at 'things unseen and eternal,' and not at 
 'things seen and temporal, 1 and our afflictions 
 shall appear to us, as they aYe, but light afflic- 
 tions, which are only for a moment. 
 
 " I only suggest a few thoughts, dear and re- 
 spected Sir, into which you, I know, have en- 
 tered much more deeply. The trial itself can- 
 not be joyous, but grievous, exceeding grievous. 
 The stroke has been felt very deeply by all to 
 whom your beloved relative was known : But 
 whose sorrow can be like yours, who best knew 
 her value as a Christian and a friend? Yet still 
 we must say, The Lord hath done it — and it must 
 be well. It must be well, it must be best, for 
 you, for other relatives, for the church of God 
 To which she was so eminently useful. This 
 we cannot understand ; but still so it must be. 
 The Lord reigneth, and his reign is one of wis- 
 dom, love, and faithfulness ; yea, it is the gov- 
 
MRS. EWING. 203 
 
 ernment of none other than our great High 
 Priest, who is in all things touched with the feel- 
 ing of our infirmities. O that we may still then 
 rejoice in the Lord, and joy in the God of our 
 salvation ! 
 
 " I remember with much gratitude and affec- 
 tion Mrs. Ewing's uniform kindness to myself— 
 and indeed, who cannot say the same who had 
 much of the pleasure of her acquaintance ? In 
 England, the concern and sympathy expressed 
 was general. Dr. Clunie, at whose house I staid, 
 begged me particularly to express his sincere 
 condolence with you in your present affliction. 
 I trust that our gracious Lord will continue to 
 support your mind, and prolong through many 
 years your health and usefulness. But to what 
 quarter shall we look for a reparation of this 
 breach ? I trust we shall learn at least this les- 
 son, to have our eyes more towards the Lord, 
 and to seek more earnestly prosperity from him. 
 
 "With best regards to Miss Cathcart, who, I 
 am happy to hear, is recovering, I am, my dear 
 Sir, yours, with respect and affection, 
 
 "Gilbert Wardlaw." 
 
 " Leith, 8th Oct 1828. 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I have hitherto delayed writing in the ex- 
 pectation of being able to go to Glasgow and 
 having the satisfaction of seeing you, when I 
 might have an opportunity of expressing my 
 feelings of sorrow and sympathy with you, un- 
 
204 MEMOIR OF 
 
 der the heavy calamity by which, in the will of 
 our heavenly Father, you have been so greatly 
 afflicted. We rejoice to hear from all quarters 
 that you have been wonderfully supported 
 throughout; but it does not surprise us. He is 
 faithful who hath promised. His grace will en- 
 able you to act and suffer in character, and you 
 will be abundantly comforted with the consola- 
 tions which you have long been accustomed to 
 address to others. In affliction there is a bless- 
 ed fellowship among believers, — and a mysteri- 
 ous identity with their great Head, which give a 
 grandeur to our trivial and temporary suffer- 
 ings, a sweetness and a solemnity, such as the 
 Scriptures describe, when the apostle speaks 
 of glorying in tribulation ; but the world know- 
 eth it not. How it brings us nearer, and ren- 
 ders us dearer to one another! The feeling of 
 increased interest in you, which I have within 
 these few weeks experienced, has no doubt been 
 felt by all your Christian friends ; and the ex- 
 traordinary and extensive excitement which 
 has been produced, has, I trust, been expressed 
 in prayers on your behalf, and will redound to 
 the glory of God. May you be invigorated for 
 the service of our Lord and Master, by the 
 painful bereavement and awful visitation you 
 have had ! May you be long spared and great- 
 ly strengthened for preaching the everlasting 
 gospel, having received an additional and affect- 
 ing charge, where all the considerations of which 
 
MRS. EWING. 205 
 
 we are sensible are requisite and should be borne 
 upon our minds. So by fearful works in righte- 
 ousness, shall prayer be answered — and the 
 Lord will glorify himself in all the vicissitudes of 
 our pilgrimage through the wilderness. He will 
 supply also, all the necessities of his saints, and 
 support his churches in the land. When cre- 
 ated streams are dried up, the fountain still 
 flows. And in removing one, however eminent 
 and even singular, he will more than fill her 
 place by raising up many others to minister in 
 Israel. 
 
 " I need not say we all sympathize with you 
 and Miss Cathcart most deeply ; my mother par- 
 ticularly desires me to express for her the great 
 concern she has felt. ************ 
 
 " I beg you to present my regards to Miss 
 Cathcart, and to Mr. and Mrs. C. if they are 
 with you ; and remain, my dear Sir, yours affec- 
 tionately, „ G D CuLLEN> » 
 
 " Alloa, 13th Oct. 1828. 
 " My very dear Sir, 
 
 " I write you at present to ascertain how you 
 are in your health and spirits. Having been 
 three weeks from home, I have not had an op- 
 portunity of hearing any thing particular re- 
 specting you, since I had the melancholy pleas- 
 ure of seeing you at Lanark. I therefore feel 
 very anxious to know how you have been sup- 
 ported under your severe bereavement. The 
 
206 memoir or 
 
 loss you have sustained is great and irreparable ; 
 but I fondly hope, that that God whose you are, 
 and whom you have long and faithfully served, 
 has proportioned his grace to your heavy trial. 
 O what a sudden and sad blank has been made 
 in society in general, and in our Body, in par- 
 ticular, by the removal of dear Mrs. Ewing 
 to a better world! Were it not for the well 
 grounded hope that our loss is her great and 
 unspeakable gain, we should be tempted to ar- 
 raign the wisdom and goodness of God. But 
 the Lord reigneth, and his grace enables us to 
 say, He gives and he takes away, blessed be his 
 name. He is possessed of infinite wisdom, 
 therefore he cannot err : He is possessed of 
 boundless goodness, therefore he cannot be un- 
 kind ; and as he is possessed of almighty pow- 
 er, he is able to carry into effect all the promises 
 of his word for the security, the direction, and 
 the comfort of his own people. While we de- 
 plore the loss we have sustained in the death of 
 one who was a succourer of many, and of my- 
 self also, I have been gratified by observing the 
 heartfelt sympathy for you manifested in every 
 place. When I mentioned the death of dear 
 Mrs. Ewing to the church under my care, the 
 whole body burst into tears. We afterwards 
 made you the subject of our prayers; and I 
 fondly hope that the Father of mercies heard us 
 on that occasion, and granted you the consola- 
 tions of his Holy Spirit. 
 
MRS. EWI.NC. 207 
 
 " On the 23d ult. I attended the annual meet- 
 ing of the association of our ministers belong- 
 ing to Fifeshire and the neighbouring counties.. 
 The circumstances of Mrs. Swing's demise be- 
 ing mentioned, and prayer offered in your be- 
 half, the following resolution was unanimously 
 agreed to : — 
 
 "' Resolved, That this meeting has just heard 
 of the distressing accident that has befallen Mr. 
 Ewing and his friends : as also of the loss sus- 
 tained by Mr. Ewing, by our churches, and the 
 world in the death of Mrs. Ewing : — that all the 
 members of our association present, do sincere- 
 ly feel for Mr. Ewing, and pray that the great 
 Head of the church may uphold him in this his day 
 of trial, and make all grace to abound : and, that 
 Mr. Hill, of Alloa, be requested to communicate 
 to their highly esteemed friend Mr. Ewing, their 
 sense of his heavy calamity, and their deep felt 
 sympathy with him under the same.' 
 
 "I know not, my very dear Sir, if there is any 
 way by which I can be of use to you. If there 
 is, you have only to command me. If preach- 
 ing a day for you, would be any relief to you, 
 you have only to say when my services are re- 
 quired, and I will gladly attend to the same. 
 My obligations to you are such as never to be 
 repaid ; but I pray that you may be repaid at 
 the resurrection of the just. I do with deep felt 
 sorrow enter into your present circumstances of 
 distress ; and I desire to be a follower of her 
 
208 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 who now, through faith and patience, is inherit- 
 ing the promises. 
 
 " I shall take it kind, if you will write me at 
 your earliest conveniency, stating any particulars 
 relative to our dear departed friend ; as also how 
 you are supported under your heavy affliction. 
 
 " Praying that grace, mercy, and peace, may 
 be imparted to you in rich abundance, I am, 
 
 "My very dear Sir, yours very affectionately; 
 
 "J. Hill."' 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " We are frequently taught by painful experi- 
 ence, that the procedure of our heavenly Father 
 is mysterious : but still it is an unspeakable mer- 
 cy, that all the bitter ingredients in our cup are 
 mingled by a Father's hand, and that the}* are 
 all designed to promote our spiritual good. The 
 day of trial has a tendency to convince us that 
 the help of a man is vain, and that God alone 
 can afford support and comfort ; but there is some- 
 thing peculiarly soothing in the reflection, that we 
 have real friends, who tenderly sympathize with 
 us, and who, were it possible, would willingly 
 bear a part of our burdens. God has gracious- 
 ly blessed you with a large share in the affec- 
 tions and in the prayers of his people ; and al- 
 though they cannot make up the loss which you 
 have sustained, yet we trust that in answer to 
 their united supplications, the Lord will afford 
 you such a measure of his Spirit, as will enable 
 you to glorify him, by submitting to this painful 
 
MRS. EWING. 209 
 
 part of his procedure with Christian patience 
 and resignation, and that he will overrule this 
 very trying bereavement, for promoting the spir- 
 itual improvement of many who may thereby 
 be practically taught to gird up the loins of their 
 minds, and to walk as strangers and pilgrims in 
 this uncertain world. Do not, dear Sir, indulge 
 and feed grief by habitually dwelling on what 
 you may consider the aggravating circumstan- 
 ces connected with your loss. It is wise to rise 
 above instruments and second causes to that 
 God, without whose permission a sparrow can- 
 not fall to the ground. The cloud has a bright, 
 as well as a dark side. The hope of a blessed 
 resurrection, when all who have fallen asleep in 
 Christ shall meet to part no more, has a cheer- 
 ing influence when called to part with pious 
 friends, who were dear to us as our own souls. 
 There is a melancholy pleasure in parting with 
 pious friends, even in the most trying circum- 
 stances. In such a case, death wants the sting. 
 It is but the shadow of death ; a temporary, and 
 perhaps a short separation. May the Lord grant 
 you all that consolation which the prospect of a 
 joyful meeting and an everlasting enjoyment are 
 calculated to afford. Our object in sending you 
 these few lines, is simply to express our sincere 
 sympathy and affection towards you, while the 
 Lord is calling you to pass through the deep wa- 
 ters of adversity. Having lately met at Fraser- 
 burgh, it appeared from conversation on the 
 
210 MEMOIR OF 
 
 painful event which has taken place, that we 
 had all resolved to write you as soon as you 
 could be supposed to be capable of attending to 
 any kind of business ; and as we had the pros- 
 pect of soon meeting again at Peterhead, we 
 considered it preferable to unite in our ex- 
 pression of sympathy. When the painful tid- 
 ings reached this part of the country, they pro- 
 duced a very deep impression on the minds of 
 those who, from personal acquaintance, or by 
 report, could form a proper judgment of the 
 loss which the cause of God has sustained. We 
 felt assured that our loss was her gain ; but still 
 the thought recurred again and again, How can 
 her place be filled, or the loss made up to her 
 partner in life, or to the churches in whose pros- 
 perity she took such a lively interest ? We 
 have often proposed the anxious inquiry to one 
 another, How you could be enabled to bear the 
 heavy stroke, without unfitting you for the many 
 important duties which devolve upon you ? The 
 Lord has in part dissipated our unbelieving fears, 
 by the reports which have reached us of the 
 peculiar support which the Lord has afforded 
 you. May you continue to obtain increasing- 
 evidence of the truth of his promise, 'that his 
 grace shall be made sufficient for you,' that as you 
 have been honoured to direct and encourage 
 many in the day of their calamity by your instruc- 
 tions, you may now be enabled to do so by your 
 example. Sympathy is best learned in the 
 
MRS. EWING. 211 
 
 school of affliction ; and we trust that you will 
 be peculiarly fitted to comfort others by those 
 consolations wherewith you are comforted of 
 God. There is often a sad mixture of selfish- 
 ness in our grief for our departed friends. It 
 has been said with truth, that were the Lord to 
 consult the inclinations of his people, eminent 
 and useful Christians would never get to heav- 
 en. Had our brethren in the ministry, or many 
 others, got their will, we verily believe your 
 dear partner had been among the last to reach 
 the haven of rest. It has been said, that though 
 a wish could bring back their friends from the 
 land of glory, the people of God would not in- 
 dulge that wish: you could not safely trust your- 
 self, nor could those who are so deeply sensible 
 of your loss, be trusted on this point. It is our 
 mercy, and that of our departed friends, that 
 our gracious Redeemer keeps the management 
 of this delicate matter in his own hand. We 
 are prone to say in our haste, like the afflicted 
 patriarch, 'All these things are against us.' But 
 the day is approaching when we shall say from 
 the heart, ' The Lord has done all things well*' 
 There is a need be, for our being frequently in 
 heaviness while passing through this world of 
 sin ; but the trial of our faith will be found to 
 the honour of Christ at last. If, through free 
 mercy, we reach the land of perfect purity, fe- 
 licity, and glory, we shall then see cause to bless 
 God for our severest afflictions. Patience must 
 
212 MEMOIR OF 
 
 now have her perfect work ; and we are called 
 to honour God by trusting him in the midst of 
 dark providences. That the Lord may graciously 
 support you, and enable you to do and bear his 
 holy will with cheerfulness and fortitude, that he 
 may grant you a large measure of the consola- 
 tions of his Spirit, and render you increasingly 
 useful in his vineyard, is the earnest desire and 
 prayer of, dear Sir, your affectionate brethren, 
 "James Robertson, John M'Robert, 
 Joseph Gibb, William Legg, 
 
 Alexander Begg, P. L. Anderson." 
 James Scott, 
 
 " Edinburgh, Oct. 20th, 1828. 
 " My very dear Sir, 
 
 " The severity of the indisposition under which 
 I have been labouring for nearly two months, 
 and which greatly increased during the last 
 month, will plead my apology for not having, 
 ere now, expressed in a personal communication 
 to yourself, — the reality and depth of my sympa- 
 thy in the very heavy affliction, with which it 
 has pleased an infinitely wise and gracious God 
 to visit you. But you are not alone, my dear 
 Sir, in the experience of its pressure. No — and 
 I can say it with the greatest truth, — that amid 
 the list of dear and valued Christian friends — 
 and these, by the kindness of God, have not been 
 few — whose removal I have had to mourn, there 
 is not an individual whose loss I have so deeply 
 felt and deplored, as that of my highly valued 
 friend, your dearly and justly beloved spouse. 
 
MRS. EWING. 213 
 
 When I think of the purity and the strength of 
 her Christian principles, the deep and the ten- 
 der interest she took in the comfort and well-be- 
 ing of those of our brethren who were placed in 
 circumstances which called for the exercise of 
 Christian benevolence towards them, and above 
 all, when I think of her holy, ardent, and un- 
 wearied zeal, in devising and prosecuting those 
 plans of usefulness, which, by the blessing of 
 God, have been productive of so much benefit 
 in promoting both the temporal and spiritual in- 
 terests of her fellow-creatures, I cannot but re- 
 gard this dispensation as one of the heaviest 
 strokes with which the members of the Congre- 
 gational Union have been visited. The deep in- 
 terest she took, from the beginning, in every 
 thing connected not merely with the success of 
 the great and general objects of that Union, but 
 in the individual prosperity and comfort of all 
 its members, will never, I am persuaded, be ef- 
 faced from the minds of those, who at any time 
 had access to the privilege of her society. Oh ! 
 my dear Sir, I have thought more frequently, 
 and though I cannot say more highly, yet I can 
 say more tenderly and affectionately of her, 
 since she has been taken from us, than I did be- 
 fore. And though I do most tenderly sympa- 
 thize with you, and participate in the grief you 
 experience in the recollection of your loss — I yet 
 feel, and I rejoice to know that you also feel, 
 that there is something inexpressibly soothing 
 
214 MEMOIR OF 
 
 in the very circumstances of her death. Oh, 
 what a happiness, that she who had so adorned 
 the doctrine of her God and Saviour during her 
 life, was enabled so to glorify him in her death ; 
 a death, the circumstances of which were all ad- 
 justed: and, Oh, that is a consoling thought! all 
 adjusted, in the very manner and order in which 
 they occurred, from everlasting. And now, 
 what remains, my dear friend, but that you and 
 we, in reliance on the grace of Christ, study with 
 renewed zeal and energy, to follow her foot- 
 steps ; pressing onwards towards the goal, till, 
 by the experience of the same mercy, we also 
 attain the glorious prize ! And then, oh, how 
 transporting the thought of meeting her, and all 
 our beloved friends who have fallen asleep in 
 Christ, around the throne, and participating 
 with them in an everlasting song of praise, 'un- 
 to Him who hath loved us, and washed us from 
 our sins in his own blood ;' and then, with them, 
 we shall look back on all the way by which the 
 Lord our God hath led us, and shall acknowl- 
 edge that ' He hath done all things well,' and 
 that ' He hath led us by the right way, to the 
 city of eternal habitation.' 
 
 " I heard from our dear brother Wardlaw, (for 
 whose sermon, which I feel happy and thankful 
 he was enabled to print, I send you my best 
 thanks) that you had experienced somewhat of a 
 bilious attack. I hope to hear that you are re- 
 lieved, when you can find it convenient to send 
 me a few lines. ************** 
 
MRS. EWING. 115 
 
 " Mrs. Aikman unites in most affectionate re- 
 gards to you, and in kindest respects to Miss 
 Cathcart, who we rejoice to hear is so recovered. 
 " I ever am, my dear Sir, 
 
 " Very affectionately yours, 
 
 " John Aikman." 
 
 " October 25th, 1828. 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I fear this letter may intrude on your sor- 
 rowful hours ; and it is merely to gratify my own 
 feelings, for you require not my feeble testimo- 
 ny to departed worth. The dear saint has left 
 many friends to mourn, and also to rejoice in 
 her happiness. Her kindness to myself was such 
 as I never can forget ; and I always parted from 
 her instructed and animated. She united all 
 that is admirable in Christian character; and 
 her sound judgment was my great admiration. 
 When with her, I always regretted when any 
 one else spoke, however excellent, for to me 
 there was a charm in her words ; kindness from 
 one so superior humbled me. She was in all 
 things an example, and although what I am 
 about to mention is certainly a very secondary 
 thing, yet it did add to the perfection of the 
 dear saint's character, — that she was a lady in 
 manners. Such an example of holy living and 
 happy dying is left for good to many. I hope, I 
 doubt not, you will be comforted by Him who 
 gave you the blessing of such a wife ; and to 
 whose happiness you so largely contributed 
 
216 MEMOIR OF 
 
 when on earth. What a happy meeting it will 
 be in a better world, when you are again united 
 to so blessed a companion. I trust your valua- 
 ble life will long be spared ; and that you may 
 be comforted. For myself, I would desire to 
 follow such bright examples of Christian worth, 
 and to cast in my lot with the people of God, 
 now and for ever. I beg you will pardon the 
 liberty of writing. I was exceedingly gratified 
 with the sermon you sent me — not one word 
 too much said. *************** 
 - " .Believe, my dear Sir, with respect and affec- 
 tionate sympathy, M. H." 
 
 " Kingsland, near London, Oct. 28th, 1828. 
 ** My dear Sir, 
 
 " When the late dispensation of God to your 
 family was announced to us here, in the Times 
 newspaper, it excited no ordinary sympathy to- 
 wards you, among those who knew you, and 
 not only among them, but also among many oth- 
 ers of the family of our Lord; and prayers were 
 offered for you in public, and no doubt by many 
 in private. Having known her long before your 
 connexion with her, as well as afterwards, you 
 may believe I felt acutely, and would have writ- 
 ten to you, but I checked myself, believing it 
 would only be an intrusion. You, my dear Sir, 
 may think your case singular, but it is not so 
 much so as you may suppose. Only in my little 
 congregation, one not less distressing happened, 
 which I only relate to let you know what sup- 
 
MRS. EWLNG. 217 
 
 ported the mind of the survivor, who was the 
 female. 
 
 " The first member received into the church 
 at Kingsland after my ordination, was a Mr. 
 S — n, a stock-broker, lately taken into partner- 
 ship in an old established house— about 36 years 
 of age, a wife and young family of seven or eight 
 children— a fine looking, and one of the most 
 amiable of men, wonderfully beloved by our 
 school children— a man from whom I expected 
 much assistance in useful schemes. The couple 
 had been married about ten years, and never 
 had taken one trip together to the country all 
 that time— at length they fixed on spending a 
 holiday in June at Hornsey, a few miles beyond 
 Kingsland— it was on a Wednesday— Mrs. S. 
 told my cousin Miss Campbell, afterwards Mrs. 
 Dr. Meikle, India, a week before, of the pleas- 
 ure they expected on their first trip since mar- 
 riage, if it should turn out a good day. The day 
 was lovely, they had dinner and tea at Hornsey, 
 and were returning in time to hear me preach 
 in the evening. Sitting in their gig admiring 
 the surrounding beauties of creation, Mr. S. to 
 give his wife and sister plenty of room, sat on 
 the edge of the gig, holding carelessly the reins 
 of the horse in his hand, let them slip out— in 
 endeavouring to catch them, he fell out, and the 
 wheel went over the lower part of his back— 
 the horse went on— wife and sister, with a babe 
 T 
 
218 MEMOIR OF 
 
 leaped out, screamed — no house in sight — their 
 screams, however, brought a gentleman from 
 behind a wall — an empty hackney coach came 
 up, Mr. S. was put into it. — As I was going to 
 preach, they were carrying him into his house — 
 I asked who it was — he heard my voice, got 
 hold of my hand, which obliged me to follow 
 him to his bed room. On being laid on his 
 bed, he cried out — ' 1 know not what shall he 
 the issue of this, but I see the hand of God 
 in it — Before I left him he threw up much 
 blood — the doctor came ; I went to preach — re- 
 turned — he must be keep quiet, and could not 
 be seen. At ten when sitting at supper, two 
 friends came, a cashier of the Bank of England, 
 and Mr. R — r, announcing his death — I ran to 
 his widow — she thought it was a dream. In a 
 day or two she declared to me — ' That if she did 
 not believe that all things were settled and or- 
 dered by God, her trial would be unsupportable — 
 she would be saying, Why did not I and my sister 
 sit closer, and give more room to my husband, to 
 prevent him from sitting on the edge of the gig? 
 — but I have considerable peace from believing 
 in God, as the disposer of all things.' God took 
 care of the widow and her children. She died 
 only about two years ago — all the children but 
 one, married, and doing well. 
 
 "After your painful scene, I observed Dr. 
 Pinkerton on the Lord's day morning in his own 
 pew in Kingsland chapel, having just arrived in 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 219 
 
 safety from a tour of four months in Norway, 
 Sweden, Germany, &c. Recollecting what had 
 happened in your short trip, I could not but give 
 public thanks for his preservation — when he 
 came into the vestry after it, and I had told him 
 of your trial, he felt keenly, and it seemed to in- 
 crease his gratitude for the Lord's goodness to 
 him. I thank you for Dr. Wardlaw's sermon on 
 the occasion, which I received last night at the 
 mission house, where Mr. Orme shewed me 
 your letter to him — may the God of Jacob be 
 your refuge. I did not know I had the account 
 you gave me of the first Mrs. Ewing's happy 
 death, till about six weeks ago I was turning 
 over a 4to Bible, when it was discovered — little 
 did I suspect at the time that you was so soon 
 to send me another. Well, wait a little, and all 
 those scenes will become more intelligible, and 
 we shall see and say that all was well. The 
 Lord be with you. Amen. I am, yours truly. 
 
 "John Campbell." 
 
 " 1, Sidmouth Street, Oct. 31, 1828. 
 " My very dear Sir, 
 
 "I return you my cordial thanks for a copy of 
 our mutual friend Dr. Wardlaw's admirable dis- 
 course, on a most mournful occasion. How 
 greatly my sympathies and those of Mrs. Win- 
 ter, have been excited by that lamented event, 
 I want words to express. The remembrance of 
 the kind and hospitable attention, which we re^ 
 
220 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ceived from dear Mrs. Ewing, as well as from 
 yourself, three years ago, greatly increased the 
 feeling. And perhaps the circumstance of our 
 reading the earliest intimation of the event in 
 the Isle of Wight, amidst the picturesque scene- 
 ry, and the steep declivities of which, similar ca- 
 lamities have sometimes taken place, and many 
 providential preservations have been experien- 
 ed, produced a yet greater interest in the awful 
 catastrophe. 
 
 " But, my dear friend, it is your high and dis- 
 tinguishing mercy to be fully assured, that to her 
 to die was gain, as to her to live was Christ. 
 May the ' strong,' the ' everlasting consolation' 
 which is provided in the gospel for Christian 
 mourners, be largely poured into your bosom. 
 The recollections which I am sure must mingle 
 with all the scenes of life, and all the engage- 
 ments of duty, while they are unavoidably pain- 
 ful, are likewise attended with supporting con- 
 siderations, of what she was, and of what she is 
 and will be. 
 
 " I can most truly join with the preacher, in 
 acknowledging, that with a zeal truly apostolic, 
 although of course in a sense different from that 
 of the original declaration, she had the care of 
 all the churches; in our missionary progress 
 through the north of Scotland, previously to our 
 last visit at Glasgow, it was delightful to hear 
 our good brethren in almost every place speak 
 of the disinterested and extensive Christian be- 
 
MRS. EWING. 
 
 221 
 
 nevolence of Mrs. Ewing. Well might she be 
 called, not for advanced years, but for parental 
 sympathies, and prayers, and instructions, and 
 even laborious and unintermitted exertions, a 
 Mother in Israel. 
 
 " Really in the circumstances of the case, it 
 is far more wonderful, that the lives of all were 
 not terminated, than that only one was. * * * * 
 
 " Farewell, my dear friend. The God of hope 
 and consolation be ever with you. 
 
 "Believe me, your affectionate friend, and 
 
 brother, 
 
 " Robert W inter. 
 
 « Leaf Square, Nov. 2, 1828. 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I cannot, allow the present opportunity, af- 
 forded me by the return of my young friend, 
 William II n, to his studies, to escape with- 
 out trespassing so far on your attention, as brief- 
 ly, but most sincerely, to express my unfeigned 
 sympathy, on account of the very severe afflic- 
 tion with which our heavenly Father has been 
 pleased so suddenly to visit you. When I was 
 so unfortunate as to find Mrs. Ewing confined 
 to her room, at the time when I had the pleas- 
 ure of seeing you in Glasgow last year, it did 
 indeed occur to my mind, that I then should, in all 
 probability, never have an opportunity of seeing 
 her again in this vale of tears, where I had so 
 often witnessed her devoted zeal and Christian 
 kindness; but I was immediately consoled by 
 
222 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the hope that we should ere long meet in our 
 fathers house, where all would be bliss and 
 joy, and where we should 'go out no more for- 
 ever. But little, as little as yourself, did I im- 
 agine that we should be speedily, and so unex- 
 pectedly summoned to resign her happy spirit to 
 the enjoyment of that felicity, from which, I am 
 sure, your own heart, with all its tenderest affec- 
 tion, would never wish to recall her. She cannot 
 return to us: may we prepare to go to her; and 
 may the recollection, that she has added to the 
 number of the attractions of heaven derived 
 from earth, powerfully stimulate our best ener- 
 gies for the glory of our Lord, that, whenever 
 he shall be pleased to send for us, we may be 
 *eady to join the blissful circle around the throne 
 and to celebrate the praises of redeeming grace 
 for ever and ever. A few more years, perhaps 
 days, and our place here will be no lon^r oc- 
 cupied by us : may it be faithfully, and happily 
 filled till then; and may a better place, even 'a 
 mansion in heaven, be then enjoyed ; and may 
 the recollection of 'all the way ' by which the 
 Lord has led us, then inspire our purest devo- 
 tions, and swell our notes of praise to the lofti- 
 est strains, to the glory of our God and Father 
 "I trust, my dear Sir, that the God of all con- 
 solation has graciously supported your mind un- 
 der his chastening hand; and that you have 
 found even this mysterious dispensation one of 
 those fraught with the richest blessings, and 
 
MRS. EWING. 223 
 
 most eminently calculated to enable you to 
 * speak a word in season to him that is weary,' 
 and to ' comfort the mourners in Zion.' Trust- 
 ing that it is indeed so with you, and that eve- 
 ry revolving year will more abundantly enrich 
 you with that preparation for the joys of heav- 
 en, which forms the best guarantee of comfort 
 here, and hope hereafter; and praying that all 
 the kindness which you and Mrs. Ewing so con- 
 stantly displayed towards the friends of the Re- 
 deemer, who, like myself, might, by distance 
 from beloved relatives, or any other circumstan- 
 ces, require attention or comfort, may be return- 
 ed seven fold, in richer blessings, on your own 
 heart, and that of your interesting daughter, and 
 on all the endeared objects of her affection, 
 
 "I remain, my dear Sir, your much obliged 
 and devoted servant, 
 
 "J. Clunie." 
 
 From a Friend in England. 
 
 December 4, 1828. 
 " My dear Miss C t, 
 
 "She has exchanged earth for heaven ; 
 
 and I feel sometimes she gives a fresji power to 
 
 my mind to look to that world of bliss with a 
 
 fond hope we may meet in those realms of bliss 
 
 where she now lives forever. The remembrance 
 
 of her sweetly Christian life and character seems 
 
 as a fresh spring to Christian duties. Oh my 
 
 heart is sore when I think I shall never more 
 
224 MEMOIR OF MRS. EWING. 
 
 behold her in this world! Scotland seemt to 
 have lost its charms. Oh dear, dear creature ! I 
 shall never behold her fellow here below. But 
 we must not dwell on our loss, but think of her 
 unspeakable gain ; and the time cannot be long, 
 humanly speaking, when, through the abound- 
 ing merits of the Lord Jesus, we shall meet, I 
 trust, to part no more. May I follow the dear 
 Redeemer as she followed him ! I should hope 
 good was done by the dear saint's Christian he- 
 roism in death. Oh that I may meet the King 
 of Terrors with the faith and fortitude she was 
 enabled to do ! We have all fresh cause for 
 adoring the Saviour that gave her such a victory 
 over death. My heart aches for dear Mr. Ew- 
 ing : But if affliction is heavy, his comfort in 
 Christ must abound ; and though the beloved 
 deceased is absent in body, she is present in 
 spirit — there is joy in heaven over one sinner 
 that repenteth. How great must be the joy of 
 our dearly beloved and glorified friend at the 
 many souls brought, and bringing hourly to the 
 knowledge of the truth through the instrumen- 
 tality of her dear husband, and all the pastors of 
 the churches of Christ to whom she was indeed a 
 sister. I beg to be remembered with true love 
 and affection to my dear quondam pastor. 
 "Yours affectionately, 
 
 "C. P T." 
 
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