Professor W. G. Elmslie, D.D.: Memoir and Sermons

by William Gray Elmslie

This incident may stand as typical of many others, and of his prominent place among men not a few of whom were of real mark. His comradeships among the students filled a large place in his life. Of all his friends the most intimate and best loved was Mr. Andrew Harper, now Lecturer on Hebrew in Ormond College, Melbourne. I regret much that exigencies of time make it impossible to include, for the present at least, any of his letters to this brother of his heart. They were always together, for ever disputing, and never quarrelling, very close to one another in heart and mind. Two years before Dr. Elmslie's death Mr. Harper visited this country. The friends resumed their ancient intercourse, visited Switzerland in company, and found that the changes of the years had only drawn them nearer. Some of the best life in the New College has always been found in the Theological Society—an association of the students who gather to discuss controverted questions, and do not fear to go into them thoroughly. These meetings were greatly relished by Elmslie. Among the leading members in his time was Professor Robertson Smith, whose amazing keenness in debate is often admiringly mentioned in his letters home. The first time Elmslie spoke in the Society was in connection with a discussion whether the Free Church should return to the Establishment on the abolition of patronage. He took the negative side, and was complimented on both sides for the ability and ingenuity of his speech. The speculative daring in the Society at a time when outside the old orthodoxy was hardly questioned partly amused and partly pleased him. He speaks of entertaining Dr. Davidson very much by telling him that the men at the Theological fathered all their heresies on Dr. Candlish's "Fatherhood of God," by, as they expressed it, carrying out its principles to their logical conclusions. The subjects themselves, however, were the main thing and took abiding possession of his heart. "I intend," he says, "to still go on studying these themes of Christ more deeply, for they have interested me intensely. By the way, I believe what will be of more value to me than the scholarship, and also far more satisfactory, is the feeling I have that in preparing for it I have made an immense addition to my knowledge in several departments, and done it so thoroughly that it will never pass away. Two subjects have so interested me that I mean to go on studying them—namely, the Person of Christ, and the Early Apostolic Church."

On his work and influence at New College the letters of Professor Drummond and Dr. Stalker will give a distinct impression, but I cannot leave the subject without giving room to what was almost before everything with him—his work among the poor, and especially among their children. They show the brilliant and courted student in another light, and it is worth mentioning that the larger proportion of his letters home is made up of such stories. His pupils in the ragged school greatly interested him, and his letters from Edinburgh are largely filled with picturesque incidents of his experience among them.

Edinburgh seemed to him more terrible in its undress than Aberdeen. "I never saw such miserable squalid faces, intermingled with roughs and coarse-looking women." There was a humorous side to it, also, which he does not fail to give account of. One day in the Sunday-school a little boy behind indulged in an occasional pull at his coat-tail, or a facetious poke at his back, to all of which demonstrations he preserved an appearance of utter unconsciousness. When the school was over, and they were waiting their turn to get out, he turned round and said, not with a very ferocious countenance, "Now, which of you young rascals was pulling at my tails?" Of course, this occasioned immense amusement, and one bright-eyed little fellow said it could not have been so.

"Oh, well," he said, "it is strange; I wonder if the forms could have done it." This was a very tickling idea, and immediately the little fellow said, "Sir, I gave you a poke." He said, "That is honest, now, and I suppose some other one took the tails." "Yes, sir, it was me," said another merry young monkey, with a comical look. He answered, "I know you are not good scholars. How do I know that? Oh, you never heard of good scholars pulling the teacher's tails!" This was a very striking view of things to them, and they did not know whether to be impressed or amused.

The quickness of the city children, and their readiness of sympathy, specially struck him. But the main issue of the work was practical. "I cannot help saying that I feel that this work will do me real good, and will give me an actual, and not a mere theoretical interest in the work I have before me. And that is a thing very much needed. One other thing I may mention here. We have been having worship once a day very regularly, and to me at least it has been very pleasant and very useful. And now good-night to both."

"I shall be very sorry to leave my poor little bairns, for I have come to like them exceedingly, especially of late; they have become so numerous that I have to put some of them on the floor—nearly fifty last night. I don't know how it is, but I have a strange sort of feeling, as if they were having a deeper interest in what I say than I ever saw before; perhaps it is because I think I have myself. Since Christmas-time I have told them every night about Jesus, and only stories that directly illustrated His love and work, and I feel a difference in the way they listen; some of them especially sit so very still and quiet, with such an earnest, solemn look on their faces. Some nights ago Donald English (who made the disturbance the first night I began), as I was beginning, took hold of my hand and said, 'Oh, tell's about Jesus again, the night!' I often end by asking them to pray Jesus, before they go to bed, to make them His little ones; and several times, as they went out, some of them have put their hand in mine and whispered, 'I'll ask Him the nicht.' Last Sabbath, when I was speaking of Jesus having died for our sakes, they were all sitting so very attentive, but three little boys in one corner began quarrelling about a bonnet, and disturbing me by the noise. I stopped twice and looked at them, but they always began again. Presently I stopped for the third time, and was going to speak to them, when one of the boys, who had been very attentive, rushed at them, and before I could interfere dragged one of them on to the floor, and commenced a furious onslaught of blows and abuse for interrupting me. I had hard work in persuading him to stop. Another very funny thing was the looks of reproachful indignation which some of the attentive ones had been casting at the disturbers, previous to the final outbreak. It was terribly annoying at the time, especially as I saw that many of them were very deeply interested. When I was ending I spoke of how Jesus deserved to be loved, and that they should ask to be made to love Him. One little girlie whispered, 'I will ask Him, for, oh, I do want to love Him!' and when I said it was time to go away they cried, 'Oh, dinna' send's away yet, tell's mair about Jesus;' and then they came round me, and made me promise to tell them 'bonnie stories about Jesus' next Sabbath. I have found that nothing interests them more than what is directly about Jesus. I could not help telling you all these little things, but I never had the same sort of feeling in teaching a class before, and I would like you to remember sometimes my poor little children down in the Canongate. I wish I could take them all into a better atmosphere, for it is sad to think of their chances of ever becoming good in such an evil, wretched place. Harper and I have been having many nice talks. I mean to preach often in the summer—I want to."

Here he describes an incident of open-air preaching. A friend was speaking, and Elmslie was managing the audience.

"Edinburgh, Jan. 23rd, 1872.

"During this the man I had heard swearing at F———— came up to S————, who was standing a few yards off, and spoke to him. I went up just in time to hear him say, 'That fellow cannot even talk grammar.' I replied, 'We don't come here to teach grammar.' He was rather taken aback, but replied, 'Well, I could have said all your man said in half the time.' 'Then wait till he is done, and you shall have the next turn.' 'No, no, I don't want that; if I spoke I should oppose you.' 'I am ready for that; will you do it?' I said; 'We don't come here to argue.' 'No; you are wise to decline to argue with me.' I answered, 'Pooh! are you so conceited as to suppose that our arguing would make any difference to Christianity? Why, it has been argued hundreds of times over by men a deal wiser than you or me, and you see Christianity has not gone to the wall.' By that time I saw I was going to win, and got very cool and at my ease, while he got excited and put out; then he started on a new tack by saying, 'And what good do you expect to do to humanity by preaching here, and disturbing us?' I said, 'Well, perhaps, for one thing, we will get some drunken characters like those' (pointing to some) 'to give up the drink, and be decent, and keep their wives and children from starving.' 'Well, that may be, but speaking like yours will never do it.' I answered, 'No, you are quite right, but we are young, you see, and some of us have not much voice, and some have not much sense; but we are just trying to find out who of us can do the thing, and so, you see, we are just doing as well as we can.' He looked rather amazed at my frankness, and said, 'Well, I'm sure I have not any ill-will to you, but I don't believe in religion, and there are such a lot of hypocrites.' I said, 'Yes, there are a great lot, but that's just a reason why you should believe in the goodness of religion.' 'How do you make that out?' 'Why, you never heard of people making imitation of the stones and stuff like that' (pointing to the gutter), 'but it is sovereigns and things like that they make counterfeits of.' 'Ay, but I hate hypocrites, and say, Down with them.' 'So do I; and if you could down with all the religious hypocrites you would do more for Christianity than we can by preaching here.' 'Ah!' he said, 'if that's your opinion you should not take to street preaching; they are all hypocrites.' 'Oh, nonsense!' I replied. He exclaimed, very bitterly, 'Look at ————' (mentioning a recent scandal); 'what good has that man done?' I answered, 'More than ever you or I have.' 'I would like to hear how.' he sneered. 'Why, you know, for one thing, he did manage, whether his preaching was sense or nonsense, to persuade a lot of drunken working men to give up drink and go to the kirk, and not waste their money in the public-house; and now you go and ask their wives and bairns whether R———— has done any good in the world.' 'Ay, but what do you say to,' etc.? 'That it was a great sin and shame to him; but that is no reason for refusing to own that he has done a vast deal of good before he did that piece of ill; and besides, I doubt if you or I are so good as to throw stones at him, etc., etc. Now I've listened to your criticisms on us, and pretty hard some of them were, so you will come up with me now, and hear what we've got to say.' He said, 'Well, I must say I like your way of taking things; I never heard them put in the way you have done; but I have not time now to come up; I have to take tea in half an hour with a mate.' I said, 'Still, you'll promise to come back next Sunday and hear us, and I may tell you, in secret, we shall have better speakers next time, and if you like, after the meeting is over, I'll have a talk with you. I never did meet one of your side before, but I've read some of your books. We won't call it a discussion, for I've not had any experience at arguing, and I suppose you are an old hand.' He gave a queer laugh, and said, 'Any way I never came across anybody on your side with half your sharpness and common sense; and besides, I must say you are honest about it.' And then we shook hands, and he promised to come along next Sunday.... By the way, in my talk with the Deist my 'heretical' reading came in useful to me; for if I had not come through all that, I could not have heard his attacks on religion and kept my coolness, or taken them up the way I did; so it is some good; it will give me confidence in myself for the future—another good thing."