The story of Dr. Duff
Date: 2025-06-22T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Missionaries -- India -- Biography; Duff; Alexander; 1806-1878

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Title: The story of Dr. Duff

Author: A. L. O. E.

Release date: June 22, 2025 [eBook #76355]

Language: English

Original publication: Madras: The Christian Vernacular Education Society, 1882

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF DR. DUFF ***

Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.

THE STORY OF DR. DUFF

BY

A. L. O. E.

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FIRST EDITION, 2,000 COPIES.
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MADRAS:

THE CHRISTIAN VERNACULAR EDUCATION SOCIETY.

C. K. S. PRESS, VEPERY.

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1882.

1 Anna.

CONTENTS.
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Chap.

I. BOYHOOD AND YOUTH.

II. TAKING UP THE CLOAK.

III. PERILS OF THE DEEP.

IV. LANDED AT LAST.

V. BEGINNING WORK.

VI. FIRST-FRUITS.

VII. THE KOOLIN BRAHMIN.

VIII. A CONVERT'S STORY.

IX. DRIVEN HOME.

X. TUMULTS AND THREATS.

XI. GLIMPSES OF INNER LIFE.

XII. A HOLIDAY WITHOUT REST.

XIII. IN INDIA AGAIN.

XIV. GOLDEN SUNSET.

THE STORY OF DR. DUFF

BY

A. L. O. E.

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CHAPTER I.

BOYHOOD AND YOUTH.

Listen to the story of a man who loved Hindustan, and laboured night and day for the good of her sons. His was a life of toils and dangers, of cheerful work and brilliant success. In the list of heroes who have dared, and of gifted men who have done much, Dr. Duff may well find an honourable place.

In a farm-house near the middle of the land of Scotland, lived a pious couple of the name of Duff: to them was born a son whom they called Alexander. The couple were not rich in worldly wealth, but they had that which is better than gold, the fear and love of God. As their child grew old enough to understand stories, his father delighted to tell him of holy men of old, of martyrs who had died for the faith. He spoke to his little son also of lands far away, where dwelt boys who had never even heard of a Saviour. Alexander Duff lived to be a renowned man, honoured by nations, but he always remembered with reverence the pious father who had first, in a humble home, sown in his heart the seed which was to become a goodly tree.

In his boyhood young Duff had two remarkable dreams. Once he dreamed that the great day of judgment had come. He beheld the holy and terrible judge seated on great white throne, and millions upon millions of human beings appearing before him, to receive their final sentence. Some were condemned to everlasting punishment, some were granted eternal life. The heart of the dreamer was filled with terror. Little Duff knew not what his own fate might be, whether he would be sent to Heaven or Hell. The boy shook on his bed with terror, and when his turn for judgment came, trembling with fear awoke. Never was that solemn dream forgotten. It was as a voice from Heaven crying, "Repent ye, the Day of Judgment is at hand; prepare to meet your God!"

The other dream was less painful, but scarcely less striking than this. The Scotch boy lay by the banks of a stream, and there he fell asleep. He dreamed that he saw in the distance a light more bright than the sun. Presently from the midst of the great light came a magnificent chariot of gold, adorned with jewels, drawn by fiery horses. The exceeding glory on which he gazed filled the boy's soul with awe. The heavenly Chariot reached his side, and from it came a gentle voice which was not the voice of man, "Come up hither, I have work for thee to do." In trying to arise to obey the divine call the young dreamer awoke.

Alexander Duff told the dream to his parents, and many many years afterwards he told it again to his grandson, so deep was the impression which it had left on his mind. That dream was as a voice from heaven, "There is holy work, Oh! child, for thee to do in the future. The world is a great corn-field, God gives to thee a sickle, and bids thee go forth and reap."

Duff had not only dreams in boyhood, but he had also deliverances from danger to remember in after years. Once when he was lifting water out of a rushing stream, he fell in and was nearly drowned. At another time he and a companion lost their way at night in a dangerous place where there were deep bogs, and a lake into which had the wanderers fallen, they would have almost certainly perished. Bitter was the cold, and deep was the darkness. The poor boys struggled on and on, dreading to slip down some unseen precipice, or to fall into some deep water. They tried to cheer each other, but their voices grew faint, their strength was failing, they were obliged to sit down to rest. Then the poor children cried to God to save them. Suddenly, as if in answer to prayer, a bright light flashed before them. It disappeared almost instantly, but the gleam was enough. The boys sprung up from the snowy ground on which they were in danger of being frozen to death, ran forward, and stumbled against a garden wall. The light had been but the flare of a torch used by some men in night fishing, but it had been the means of drawing the boys towards a cottage where their shivering bodies were warmed and fed. From that cottage they could be safely guided to the home of Duff's father. Often, when he was a man, did Duff in times of trial and danger remember that sudden flash of light. He thought that the God who had sent it to guide the wandering lost boy, would never leave or forsake the afflicted man who cried to him in the darkness.

Duff went to school in the town of Perth, and was so diligent in his studies, that when he left Perth at the age of fifteen, he was the head scholar. He then studied at St. Andrew's college, and carried off prize after prize. Duff was strong in body and strong in mind, and of a brave and cheerful spirit. If he wrote an essay, people read it with admiration; if he made a speech, they listened with delight. He had unusual power to convince and persuade. There was an earnestness in the youth, which united with remarkable talent made his influence great, but we have no reason to think that this rendered him vain. As a friend, Duff was obliging and kind; as a companion, pleasant and cheerful.

On Sundays he gathered children around him to teach them such holy lessons as he himself had learned from his father. Duff was full of mirth, but he suffered no impure jest or oath to fall from his lips. The holy spirit of God had shed life into the young man's heart, and it was shown in his words and actions, as we may trace the course of a stream which we do not see by the bright verdure, the flowers, and fruits which grow on its banks.

Thus Duff's course as a college student was one of activity, cheerfulness and success. Can we doubt that his life in Scotland was a happy one? Dearly did he love his country, his family and his friends, and with such talents as his, he was likely to rise in the world. Why should Duff ever leave his beautiful country and those to whom he was dear? Yet Duff did leave all with a willing heart, he exchanged his pleasant studies for hard and toilsome work, he went thousands of miles from his father's home to dwell amongst strangers. Why he did this you will see in the following Chapter.

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CHAPTER II.

TAKING UP THE CLOAK.

Amongst the friends of Duff there was one to him especially dear; this young man's name was John Urquhart. Theirs was a love to last unto death, and even after death, for its strength was this: that both the friends adored the same Lord, both delighted in His service, and both looked forward to dwelling together in a bright home beyond the grave.

Often when Duff went in holiday time to his parents' house, he talked to them much about John Urquhart. He told how one day Urquhart, addressing his follow-students, had told them that he was going to devote himself to Missionary work, and charged every one of his companions to think seriously over the subject of spreading the Gospel in heathen lands. The name of John Urquhart had grown quite familiar to the parents of Alexander Duff, from the accounts of him given to them by their son, as he sat and talked with them by the cheerful fire-light in their home amidst the Grampian Hills.

Perhaps Duff's mother sometimes thought, "I am glad that it is Urquhart and not my Aleck who is going so far away. My clever son will be a pastor and dwell near us, and I shall hear him when he stands in the pulpit, preaching the Word with that eloquence which every one praises! I shall watch his success, oh! with what gladness and pride! I wonder if Urquhart has a mother, and, if so, how she can bear to part with such a son! I am thankful that my Aleck is not to be a Missionary like his friend."

A time arrived when Alexander Duff came home for his winter vacation with a sad heart and a burdened mind. His parents welcomed him, as usual, with tender love, and he brightened up to cheer them; nothing seems to have passed at first to awaken his mother's fears. Doubtless she spread the table with the nice bannocks of barley meal which she had prepared with her own hands, and stirred the fire to a brighter blaze, and fondly gazed on the face of her son, now a fine young man in the prime of his strength. Duff sat and talked of many things, for when he returned from college he had always much to tell, and he related stories with such spirit, that it was ever a pleasure to listen. But it surprised Duff's parents that he did not so much as mention John Urquhart, the favourite friend who used to be a principal theme of his talk.

"What of your friend Urquhart?" at last exclaimed the father.

A change came over the face of Duff. Doubtless his heart beat faster, not only because his father's word had touched a wound, but because the moment had come for him to say something which he too well knew would give his dear hearers pain.

"Urquhart is no more!" cried Duff, thus suddenly announcing the death of the youth who had devoted himself to Missionary work, but who had been summoned early to his rest before he could enter on such labours. Then, gathering courage to say what he felt must be said, Duff slowly and wistfully added, perhaps glancing at his poor fond mother, "What if your son should take up his cloak?" By which he meant, should take up his Mission work and go out to India in his place. "You approved the motive that directed the choice of Urquhart, you commended his high purpose." Then Duff added the words which announced his own dedication to the cause, words which must have thrilled to his parents' souls, "'The cloak is taken up.'"

The father and mother were at first too much startled to speak. We are not told what followed. The parents were pious indeed, but they may have felt somewhat as holy Abraham felt when called on by God to offer up the only son whom he loved. We do not know whether the mother threw her arms round the neck of her son and wept, or if the father's face betrayed an inward struggle. We only know that both parents consented at last to part with their hope and pride, never perhaps in this world to behold his dear face again. They would not hinder him from obeying the call of his God, heard in his childhood's dream,—"Come up hither, I have work for thee to do."

And what was this work taken up by Duff, as a legacy from his friend, a work for which he was ready to leave and to suffer all?

Ere the Lord Jesus left earth He gave a last charge to his disciples, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature."

In the command followed a promise, "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end."

Obeying that command, and resting on that promise, from the earliest ages Christians have gone forth to give glad tidings of salvation to other nations. Men, aye and women, have cheerfully left country and home to say to those thirsting for eternal life,—

"'Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters!' We have found the Fountain of life, and we bid you also come and drink. Oh! Weary and heavy-laden with the burden of sin, come to Him who has taken away 'our sin.' Christ has opened the door of heaven to us, and we would not enter alone. Come dear brothers—sisters, come Hindu, Mahomedan, Sikh, come all ye children of men, share with us the inheritance of glory, share with us the Kingdom of Heaven!"

What Duff thought of a Missionary's calling may be shown from his own words. A Missionary Committee had offered to send him out to labour in Calcutta, and after much prayer and searching of heart he was able to write thus:—

"I am now prepared to reply to the Committee in the words of the prophet, 'here am I, send me.' The work is most arduous, but is of God and must prosper. Many sacrifices painful to flesh and blood must be made, but not any correspondent to the glory of winning souls to Christ. With the thought of this glory I feel myself almost transported with joy; everything else appears to fall out of view as vain and insignificant."

Mr. Duff was now ordained as a clergyman, and before he departed for India, preached missionary sermons and gave discourses which came with much force from one who was offering himself up, body and soul, for the cause for which he pleaded. In one church, with tears gushing from his eyes, thus the young missionary spoke:—

"There was a time when I had no care or concern for the heathen, that was a time when I had no care or concern for my own soul. When, by the grace of God, I was led to care for my own soul, then it was that began to care for the heathen abroad. In my closet, on my bended knees, I then said to God, 'Oh! Lord! Thou knowest that silver and gold to give to this cause I have none; what I have I give unto Thee; I offer Thee myself, will Thou accept the gift?"

Duff tried to comfort and cheer his parents. He prayed his dear mother not to make an idol of her son. He wrote lovingly to his father,—

"Will you be a loser by so giving me up to the Lord, and so praising Him for His goodness in having called me to so mighty a work? No, God will bless you with the blessing of Abraham, will enrich you with his faith and reward, and will reward you a thousand fold for your willing resignation and cheerful readiness in obeying God's command. The Lord bless you and my dear mother!"

And so Alexander Duff prepared to go forth to a strange land, and a people whose language he knew not, believing it to be likely that he never would return again to his dearly loved Scotland.

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CHAPTER III.

PERILS OF THE DEEP.

Mr. Duff did not go forth alone; he was given a faithful partner in all his joys and sorrows, a gentle helper in his work. Just before the young missionary was ordained, he married the pious Miss Anne Scott Drysdale, who for many years proved to him one of God's richest blessings.

In the month of October 1829, in a ship called the "Lady Holland," the young couple embarked for India. They knew not the sufferings and dangers that lay before them ere they should reach Calcutta, but "farewell" is a bitter word, and it was doubtless with heavy hearts and tear-dimmed eyes that some of the travellers saw the shores of their native isle recede in the distance behind them.

Very rough weather was encountered by the "Lady Holland." Day after day there was a succession of gales. Many inhabitants of India have never seen the sea, the "black water" as they call it. Let them imagine what it must be when nothing is to be seen around but furious waves, with a strong sky above, and how one must feel when tossed on the surface of the water. The ship plunges like a terrified horse, now borne aloft on the top of a huge billow, then swept down into what looks like a watery grave from which she may never arise. There is violent motion which allows not a minute of rest; were it not for little wooden fences made on purpose, the dishes would roll over from the tables, the sick would fall out from the beds! Many of the passengers are lying in a grievous state of exhaustion. The violent shaking, plunging, and rolling, make them feel as if taken with deadly sickness, they can neither rise nor eat till the fury of the gale be spent.

Week after week the rough weather continued, and the ship was detained by various causes, so that it was not till at least four long months had passed that the "Lady Holland" had nearly reached the Cape of Good Hope, the half way station on the way to Calcutta. How glad the storm-tost passengers must have been at the thought of being, though but for a short time, on firm solid ground, and able to look on green trees once more! But the ship was never to reach the port, a time of terrible danger was near.

On the 13th of February, at the dead hour of night, when lamps had been put out, and most of the passengers had gone to rest in their cabins, at that time the accident occurred. Those who had closed their eyes in sleep were suddenly awakened by a violent shock, which almost made their hearts stand still with fear! What could have happened to the ship! The frightened passengers sprang from their cots, they rushed on deck, wrapped in blankets, sheets, or whatever was near, only to find their worst fears realised. The vessel had struck with violence on a sandbank, her back was broken, she must ere long go to pieces! The wild foaming waves were sweeping over her like hungry tigers eager to devour their prey.

Mr. Duff had been half undressed when the shock took place. He too ran up on deck, where he met the captain of the "Lady Holland," who exclaimed in agony—

"Oh! She's gone! She's gone!"

It would be difficult to describe the scene which followed on that awful night of the shipwreck, so as to bring it before the minds of those who have never been in a storm at sea. Passengers were on the deck, terror depicted on their faces, as far as they could be seen in the dim light, they could neither stand nor sit without clinging to some object near. All felt as if death were near, and after death the judgment!

One voice, that of an officer, was heard to utter the bitter cry, "What will become of me, I have been such a hypocrite!"

The wretched man knew not how to face the Judge of quick and dead before whom he might so shortly be summoned to appear.

A few of the passengers were God-fearing people, and they even at such an hour, were calm. Duff was one of these for whom death had lost its worst terrors, he knew that God ruled the storm, and that the way to Heaven was as short from a foaming sea as from the most peaceful deathbed.

The missionary's clear voice was heard over the dashing of the waters and the roar of the wind. Duff called out that as all might suddenly be summoned together to give their final account, they had better join in prayer as best they could for deliverance, if such were God's holy will, or if not, for preparedness to meet Him. All passengers clustered around the missionary, holding on so as not to be swept off the deck by the waves, whilst the man of God poured forth his soul in earnest supplications. Oh! What a never to be forgotten prayer meeting was that in darkness and danger, on the billow-swept deck of the wreck!

Meanwhile the captain and crew were doing all that they could to launch the longboat which might afford a means of escape from a sinking vessel. The task was one of extreme difficulty; the sea was a mass of foam gleaming white through the darkness now dimly lighted up by the moon. At last, the work was accomplished,—the longboat was heaving up and down on the waters near enough to the ship for the terrified people on the deck to get in. But it could not hold more than one third of those on board the doomed vessel.

No doubt the quiet prayer had calmed the spirits of those who had joined in it, for now a very striking display of unselfish Christian love was shown. Unmarried men said to those who were married, "You go with your wives, you are two, we are only one." The wives had declared that they would not go without their husbands.

But none of those on deck were to be lost. Through God's mercy the wind abated; the little island of Dossen, like a place of refuge, was near. The longboat with another smaller boat were able to make three trips, and so at last each one of the shivering, dripping passengers and crew was landed safe on the desolate isle.

Soon after the last trip had been made, the longed-for daylight appeared. Before dawn there was no means of knowing whether the place was inhabited. Dreary enough was the scene revealed by the opening day. The island was merely a haunt of sea-birds, and the only persons to be found on it were two men employed to collect their eggs. But the sight of these two Dutchmen was welcome to the poor desolate shipwrecked sufferers who had lost their all, especially as the strangers possessed a cooking-pot, under such circumstances a valuable acquisition indeed.

The poor passengers and sailors dispersed, some to collect eggs, some to collect grass and seaweed with which to feed a fire; others remained beside the pot constantly employed in boiling sea-birds' eggs, as that was their only food.

No doubt, Mr. Duff thought of the shipwreck of the great missionary, St. Paul, saved like himself, from a watery grave, and cast, like himself, desolate upon an island. But what gratitude must have filled his soul when he looked on his beloved wife, preserved to him through all that night of terrible danger! They had indeed lost their worldly all, their clothes save what they actually wore, their property, money, and books, wedding-gifts and parting keepsakes; all was lost to them but each other, and their calm firm trust in God; shipwrecked and stript of every earthly possession they were still rich in faith, and each happy in the love of the other.

A sailor is seen advancing eagerly towards them. What is it that he holds in his hand? Something which the waves have washed ashore from the wreck.

What is the Missionary's surprise and delighted wonder when he recognises "his own Bible" and an old Scotch psalm-book, somewhat shattered indeed, but received with adoring gratitude as a gift from the Lord! Would a bag of gold or a bracelet of costly diamonds have been such a welcome treasure!

All the shipwrecked people were deeply affected by what they regarded as a message from God. They knelt down on the white sand, whilst Dr. Duff held a touching service. The Missionary read the 107th Psalm, so suitable for these who had cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and been delivered from their distress. Fervent prayer and grateful thanksgiving followed the psalm.

For days the passengers and crew remained on the desolate island, till they were relieved by a vessel sent from Cape Town, to which tidings of the shipwreck had been forwarded. With what thankful joy they at last landed on the shores of Africa, the inhabitants of Cape Town crowding to see the poor tempest-torn wanderers, and to show them sympathy and kindness. Several weeks passed in this haven of refuge before the Duffs were able to embark in another vessel called the "Moira," to pursue their voyage to Calcutta.

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CHAPTER IV.

LANDED AT LAST.

If the Missionaries hoped that they would now in peace and tolerable comfort pursue their voyage to their long desired haven, they were to be sadly disappointed. It seemed as if wind and waves joined together to keep them back from India. The experience of the Duffs in the "Moira" was not to be very unlike theirs in the poor wrecked "Lady Holland."

Contrary winds drove the vessel far out of her course, increasing to such a hurricane that she nearly went down into the depths of the sea. Not till the end of May did the poor half exhausted travellers see the little pilot ship which was to guide them up the Hoogly to Calcutta at last.

In thought we can see the missionary Duff, with his tall form, handsome face, animated manner and sparkling eyes, standing on the deck, and pointing out to his wife the distant land beyond the heaving waters, and crying out, "That is our India, yonder is our future battle-field, so long hoped for, so long desired!"

The long muddy flat of Saugar island indeed was nothing beautiful to look at, yet was full of interest, and welcome was the sound of dropping anchor in the rapid stream which flows by its shore.

The long ocean-voyage was over, but the river had its perils as great as those of the ocean. See how the clouds in big black masses gather before the sun. Make ready, brave sailors, a storm is coming, and will be upon you soon! It came—the terrible monsoon in all its fury! In vain had three anchors been thrown out from the "Moira," anchors and cables cannot hold her; like a baited animal breaking loose from the stake, she struggles on the furious whirling waters. Driven before the roaring gust, the "Moira" is hurled on a mud-bank, she is in a position of awful peril. Nothing can be done to save her, for not even moonlight now relieves the horrors of the darkness only lit up by flashes of lightning!

Has the missionary come so far, and already endured so much only to perish close to the land which he has vainly tried to reach! It was a terrible night indeed, and with the wild monsoon sweeping around them, thus helplessly "standed," how anxiously must the poor passengers in the "Moira" have waited for daybreak! It came at last, and there was at least light enough to show them their danger.

The appearance of the river was very fearful; the wind, whirling round in cyclone gusts, raised columns of water which broke into foaming cataracts. What had been land was so flooded that it looked like a widening of the river. Yet to reach it was the travellers' best chance of safety. There was a large tree not far off standing out of the water. By swimming, some men managed to carry a rope from the ship to it, which they could fasten to its branches. Along this rope a boat was moved to the tree, and by its means the travellers were "landed" on Saugar island, if that term can be used when they had to stand up to their waists in water!

Oh! What a close to a long toilsome voyage, what a rude welcome to India! Battered by the gale, drenched to the skin, the twice shipwrecked Duffs with their companions struggled on till they came to the first Hindu village which they hoped to enter, and find at least a little rest in some hut however mean. But alas! From prejudices of caste, the villagers would not take the poor weary ones in! Here was a trial of faith and patience. Doubtless Duff felt far less for himself than for his loving faithful wife. Turned back from the village, the shipwrecked sufferers took refuge in a temple, and there, drenched with mud, in a terrible state of exhaustion after the fearful night, the Missionary pair remained for a while.

When the tidings of their state reached Calcutta, help was quickly sent. After some time dinghy boats began to appear; in one of these Mr. Duff and his patient wife at last reached Calcutta, the city of palaces, where by a Scotch clergyman they were hospitably received. The journey from London to Calcutta with such a succession of disasters, had taken them more than "eight months" to accomplish. When the natives of India heard of the perils surmounted by the Missionary Duff, the remark was made, "Surely this man is a favorite of the gods who must have some notable work for him to do in India."

What Duff himself thought of his troubles may be seen by what he wrote in a letter on the day following that of his arrival in Calcutta.

"The loss of earthly comfort and possession is a rich gain indeed, when accompanied by the increase of that treasure which nothing can diminish. Where is faith without a victory? Where is victory without a struggle? And can there be a struggle without enduring trials and encountering difficulties? To us, we would pray, be the toil and the hardship and the danger, and the crown of victory for our reward, or death when maintaining our Master's cause, for an eternal glory."

Before this, Alexander Duff had written in reference to his large stock of books and valuable papers lost in the shipwreck of the "Lady Holland":—

"They are gone, and blessed be God, I can say gone without a murmur. So perish all earthly things; the treasure which is laid up in Him alone is unassailable. God has been to me a God full of mercy, and not the least of His mercies do I find in cheerful resignation."

Thus "Faith turns the sands of life to gold."

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CHAPTER V.

BEGINNING WORK.

The special work for which Alexander Duff had been sent to India, was to set up a missionary College. In doing this, he had to meet with some great difficulties, and some of the most trying of them from his own European friends. This sounds strange, and needs a little explanation.

A great many English people, some of them doubtless sensible and good men, thought that though Hindu boys should certainly be taught, they should only be taught in Oriental languages. They might learn Sanscrit, Bengali, Persian, Arabic, it was said, but what would be the use of teaching them English? Some persons think the same thing now; they would feed boys' minds with stories from the Vedas, they would let them know ancient poems filled with impure legends, and become good Oriental scholars, but to teach English is, in such persons' opinion, to bring in insolent manners, vanity, deceit and infidelity.

Dr. Duff held a very different opinion. He looked on the English tongue as the key to a rich storehouse of science, wisdom and truth, where eager minds and hungry souls might feed, and so grow to manly stature. Why only open presses full of sweetmeats, some of them well-known to be poisoned with vice, while a rich granary might be thrown open to young India? Duff resolved, with the firmness of his resolute nature, that he would teach Hindu boys English; and in this he was encouraged by an enlightened native, Raja Rammohun Roy. The native languages were by no means to be neglected, but the English key to knowledge was to be given to India, the granary was to be opened. Duff saw that it was not true that his pupils must become, as was feared, like those worthless natives who had caught a smattering of English just in order more easily to cheat Europeans lately arrived from the West. It was not true that because some English books, alas! contain the poison of infidelity, that ignorance of the language would keep Bengalis safe from the evil.

We see the truth of this reasoning now, but at that time Duff had to face a strong opposition. Before he opened his school, one of the Missionary's dearest friends came to implore him to give up his design of teaching boys in English. Finding all his arguments and entreaties in vain, the friend rose, and shaking Duff by the hand, uttered this sad prediction:

"You will deluge Calcutta with rogues and villains!"

Oh! What a strange mistake was made by this doubtless well meaning man! India has at this moment no nobler sons than the boys taught in the College of Duff!

The Missionary's first efforts to instruct in Calcutta have been thus described.

Duff "planted himself in the very heart of the native town. Nor did he, as some advised, begin with the erection of a grand building which would do much, it was urged, to attract the pupils. The grand building was left to the future, and a room of a Hindu house, in Chitpore, a small ill-ventilated room, was in the first instance sufficient. Here, a month and a half after landing, Mr. Duff might have been seen in eager converse, mostly by means of an interpreter, with five young men, whom Raja Rammohun Roy had persuaded to attend. The despisers of the day of small things would have read failure over that first day's work. To Mr. Duff it was a hopeful beginning.

"Next day twenty-five appeared, and before a week was over, the room was filled at different periods of the day with two distinct sets of scholars. Two hundred and fifty were thus accommodated, and still many had to be refused."

Here then was the opening work of him who has been described as "the Missionary who knew no Bengali, and taught boys who knew no English."

An amusing account has been given of Duff's early lessons; of course he had to begin with the alphabet. He who was so learned and eloquent was content to stoop to teach boys their A B C. Gathering his class around him, the Master would begin by showing a large pointed O on a frame. Very soon the letter was shouted out by some hundred young tongues. The letter X would follow, the word OX was thus formed, and the merry scholars were delighted to find that they had mastered an English word. The teacher then exercised the minds of his pupils by asking them questions about the animal whose name they had learned. So delighted were the boys at this new, simple, and amusing way of instruction, that when they went out into the streets, and saw an ox pulling a cart, they would shout "Ox! Ox!" at the top of their voices.

This was the first step to something higher. Duff was training his boys to "think;" they were no parrots merely to learn a lesson by rote. Duff opened the intellects of his scholars, and at the same time won their hearts by his kindness. The work wonderfully grew and spread. The hired house was exchanged for a better one, which was—after the lapse of a considerable time—to be succeeded by a beautiful college.

After a year, a public examination was held. Those who were present at it were surprised at reading of the boys, their knowledge of arithmetic, geography and grammar. Those who had expected that but little could possibly have been done in a year, listened with admiration to the prompt and clever answers given by the bright young students.

Here indeed was grand success. The desire of the youth of India to learn under Alexander Duff became greater and greater. As the Master afterwards wrote,—

"The excitement amongst the natives continued unabated. They pursued us along the streets, they threw open the very doors of our palankeens, and poured in their supplications with a pitiful earnestness of countenance that might have softened a heart of stone. They craved for English reading, English knowledge. In broken English some would say, 'me good boy, Oh! take me!' Some 'me want read good books, Oh! take me!'"

Such was the press of new candidates that it was found quite needful only to admit by tickets, and to station two men at the door to see that no boys came in who could not show such a ticket.

Thus was the blessing of God given to the first efforts of the Missionary Duff for the improvement of the boys of India.

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CHAPTER VI.

FIRST FRUITS.

It must not be thought that whilst the missionary opened the minds of his pupils, he for one day forgot the care of their souls. What avails human learning without that knowledge which leads to life eternal! Duff had seen a parable of this in his shipwreck. Eight hundred volumes which he had carefully chosen were destroyed; so were the papers on the writing of which he had bestowed weeks and months of pains; "but his Bible was left to him still!"

So when the flood of death swallows up the fruit of mere earthly labours, and the sage and the idiot alike are cast on the shore of eternity bare of all that belonged but to this world, the Word of God will abide for ever, the Christian's best treasure is left to him still.

The boys of Duff's school were every day taught pure religion, and their parents were invited to attend during the lesson.

One day that lesson was on Charity as described in the Thirteenth Chapter of First Corinthians. "Throughout, all were attentive, and the minds of a few became intensely riveted, while the glistening eye and the changeful countenance reflected as in a mirror the inward thought most clearly. At last when the concluding words of the inspired description of heavenly love was given, 'endureth all things,' a youth who but a few days before had risen to oppose the reading of the Bible, started from his seat exclaiming aloud, 'Oh! Sir! That is too good for us! who can act up to that, who can act up to that.'"

A deep impression was made on the mind of one young Hindu from the simple reading of the words that promise blessedness to him who loves and prays for his enemy. For days and weeks the youth could not help crying out, "'Love your enemies, bless them that curse you!' How beautiful! how divine! surely this is the truth!"

Duff's explanation of the causes and nature of rain led his bright lads to understand that it neither comes from Indra, nor from a celestial elephant. They felt that they had been too long grossly deceived in matters of science. In some minds there was doubtless a struggle between the new ideas and the old. "What becomes of our Shaster if your account be true?" asked a young Brahman. "The Shaster is true, Brahma is true, and your Gurus must accordingly be false, 'and yet it looks like the truth.'"

On the occasion of an eclipse, a true exposition being given of the real cause of the wonder, a very great shock was given to Hindu prejudice. Many of the intelligent lads perceived that the wild tales which they had been told about a monster attacking the sun, were not only false but absurd.

The movement going on was one which could not be hidden; Gurus and Brahmans, accustomed to be adored almost as gods, saw that Hinduism itself was in danger. Those whom it had been their interest to keep in darkness, were having their eyes opened. The Brahmans determined to crush the Missionary school. A decree went forth that whoever attended it should be excluded from caste. It was suggested that a yellow flag should be placed before the school to warn all Hindus from entering so dangerous a place.

The timid people were frightened by the threats of those who had been their spiritual leaders. The school was almost deserted. Only half a dozen boys sat on the benches that had been crowded by three hundred. But the panic lasted for a very short time; in less than a week, back came the deserters. Dr. Duff went calmly on with his duties till his classes were more crowded than ever.

In the second year of the Missionary's labours in Calcutta, he received a note from a Hindu which must have thrilled his heart with joy. It was written by one who had been tossing on an ocean of doubt, but was now seeing the lights in the port. Mokesh Chunder Ghose sent his own brother to Mr. Duff with the following remarkable letter.

"If you can make a Christian of him you will have a valuable one, and you may rest assured that you have my hearty consent to it. Convince him and make him a Christian, I will give no secret opposition. Scepticism has made me too miserable to wish my dear brother the same. A doubtfulness of the existence of another world, and of the benevolence of God, made me too unhappy and spread a gloom all over my mind, but I thank God that I have no doubts at present. I am travelling from step to step, and Christianity, I think, will be the last place where I shall rest, for every time I think, its evidence becomes too overpowering."

Oh! With what delight must the faithful Missionary have read such a letter! With what fervour must he have prayed that the enquirer should never never pause, until he found rest indeed, and for ever, at the feet of the Blessed Jesus!

Such a prayer was granted. The brave young Hindu dared to come out and confess Christ openly by baptism. Mokesh Chunder Ghose stood forward as the first convert given to Duff. The young man's own account of his conversion, given before many witnesses is too interesting not to be inserted here. After long silence Mokesh Chunder Ghose thus broke forth.

"A twelve month ago I was an atheist . . . and what am I now? 'A baptized Christian!' A twelve month ago I was the most miserable of the miserable, and what am I now? In my own mind 'the happiest of the happy.' What a change! How has it been brought about? The recollection of the past fills me with wonder.

"When I first came to your lectures it was not instruction that I wanted. Instruction was the pretext; a secret desire to expose what I reckoned your irrational and superstitious follies was the reality. At last against my inclination, against my feelings I was obliged to admit the truth of Christianity. Its evidence was so strong that I could not resist it. But I still felt contrary to what I 'thought.' On hearing your account of the nature of sin, and especially sins of the heart, my conscience burst on me like a volcano. My soul was pierced through . . . I was in a hell of torment. On hearing and examining further I began, I know not how or why, to find relief from the words of your Bible. What I once thought most irrational I soon found to be very wisdom, what I once hated most I soon began to love most, and now I love it altogether . . . 'In spite of myself I became a Christian.' Surely some unseen power must have been guiding me! Surely this must have been what your Bible calls grace, free grace, sovereign grace!"

Such was the simple, straight forward, manly confession of Alexander Duff's first Hindu convert.

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CHAPTER VII.

THE KOOLIN BRAHMIN.

Mokesh Chunder Ghose was not long to stand alone. He was followed by a Koolin Brahmin, Khrisha Mohun Banerjea, now a well-known and much respected Christian clergyman. Of a candid, enquiring disposition, he had been convinced of the errors of Hinduism before he had received Christianity as truth from God. He was at the head of party of deep-thinkers who would no longer consent to be duped, and his own very high rank as a Koolin Brahman made him an object of special wrath to his former co-religionists. They fiercely demanded of Banerjea's family they should disown him, on pain of themselves losing their caste should they refuse to do so.

The reformer's family called on him to renounce what they called his errors, and own his belief in the Hindu religion, or be for ever cast out from his home. The poor young man chose ruin rather than falsehood. Banerjea left his home at night with some of his friends who held the same views as himself.

"We left," wrote he, "the home where we passed our infant days; we left our mother that nourished us in childhood; we left our brother with whom we associated in our early days; we left our sisters with whom we sympathised since they were born."

Personal danger was added to private grief. As Banerjea and his friends were returning, a furious mob broke loose on them, and it was with some difficulty that they made their escape. No wonder that the Koolin Brahman fell into a fever. He had as yet lost all, without any positive gain; he had left Krishna but he had not found Christ.

"I was perfectly regardless of God," he wrote at a subsequent time, "yet, as a merciful Father He forgot not me!"

Dr. Duff sent a native friend to invite Banerjea to his house. Blessed was the hour when the out-cast reformer crossed a Christian's threshold. Banerjea's own description of the interview must be given.

"Mr. Duff received me with Christian kindness, and enquired of the state in which we all were. He openly expressed his sentiments on what we were about, and while he approved of one half of our conduct he lamented the other. He was glad of our proclamation against error, but sincerely sorry at our neglecting the truth. I told him that it was not our fault that we were not Christians; we did not believe in Christianity and therefore could not consistently profess it. The Reverend gentleman with great calmness said that it was true that I could not be blamed for my not believing in Christianity so long as I was ignorant of it, but that I was certainly guilty of serious neglect for not enquiring into its doctrines and evidences. This word enquire was so uttered as to produce an impression on me which I cannot sufficiently well describe . . . I was so struck with Mr. Duff's words that we instantly resolved to hold weekly meetings at his house for religious instruction and discussion."

Persecution drove the reformer to a European lodging house, for not a native dared to shelter him. Banerjea narrowly escaped death by poison! But the former Koolin Brahman went on earnestly with his search after truth, and at length he found it. "Knock, and it shall be opened unto you." Banerjea desired to be baptised in the house of the Missionary who had led him to Christ, and was so, in the presence of many of his friends who still remained Hindus.

After prayer by another clergyman, Mr. Duff thus questioned the convert:—"Do you renounce all idols, superstitions, and all the frivolous rites and practices of the Hindu religion?"

To this the former Koolin Brahman replied, "I do, and I pray God that he may incline my countrymen to do so likewise."

"Do you believe in God the Father and Creator of all; in Jesus Christ as your Redeemer, and in His Sacrifice as the only means whereby man can be saved; and in the sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit?"

To this Banerjea with emotion replied, "I do, and I pray God to give me grace to do His will!"

Then the convert received the pure water of baptism, and the company, kneeling, engaged in prayer. Thus was gathered in Alexander Duff's second sheaf in Calcutta.

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CHAPTER VIII.

A CONVERT'S STORY.

I will not attempt to give an account of half the lads whom Mr. Duff first taught to think, then to pray, then to leave all and dare all for the sake of religion. They formed a noble band, of whom some are still living in positions of usefulness and honour even in the distant Panjab, while others, represented on earth by their children, have gone, like their loved Missionary, to join the Blessed above. But the story of the third youth who became a convert is so interesting, that a chapter must be given to him.

GOPINATH NUNDI.

One morning a young man named Gopinath Nundi came into Mr. Duff's study, and bursting into tears exclaimed, "Can I be saved!"

He told how the last of a series of lectures given by the Missionary had driven him to seek the advice of Banerjea, who prayed with him, and sent him to Mr. Duff. Bitter trials were afterwards endured by this young convert, such as are experienced now by many Hindus and Mahomedans who, when convinced of the truth of Christianity, take up their cross and follow the Lord. Gopinath was cast off by his family, after enduring first their entreaties, then their abuse. The most painful wrench was when Gopinath heard his old mother's cry of anguish. The convert wept, but was granted strength to keep firm.

He threw up his arms and turning hastily away exclaimed, "No! I cannot stay!"

He knew that the Lord Jesus Christ hath said, "he that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of Me."

It was about twenty-five years after that painful scene that Gopinath, then a Christian pastor, had to pass through one more terrible still; the same grace that had supported him through the first trial, bore him up in the last.

In the dreadful time of the Mutiny in 1857, Gopinath, then a married clergyman of Futteypore, had to endure a confessor's sufferings, and almost met a martyr's death. Of his sufferings, when attempting with his wife to fly from the murderous foe, a shortened account shall be given, chiefly in his own words.

"We travelled till 9 A. M. when both ourselves and our dear children, (two of them six years, and the baby one year old,) felt tired and sat down under the shade of a tree. The poor children cried most bitterly from hunger. We laid our petitions before that God who fed His people with manna in the wilderness, and indeed He heard our prayer. We saw in the distance a marriage procession; I went up to them and they gave me five pice, which enabled me to buy suttoogoor; with this we fed the children and resumed our journey."

At night the poor exhausted travellers found shelter in the house of a kind Hindu, and in the early morning started for Allahabad.

"There," Gopinath goes on, "we saw with heartfelt sorrow that the missionary bungalow was burnt to ashes, and the beautiful church totally disfigured. On our arrival swarms of Mahomedans fell upon us. A Hindu goldsmith took us into his house, and kept us safe during the day. At sunset, when we left his protection, we fell into the hands of some other Mahomedans. When we saw that there was no way of escape, and the villagers ready to kill us, we begged them hard to take us to their head the Moulvie, who for some days assumed the supreme authority there. When we were brought before him, we found him seated on a chair; surrounded by men with drawn swords. We made our salams, upon which he put to us the following questions:—

"'Who are you?'—'Christians.'

"'What place do you come from?'—'Futteypore.'

"'What was your occupation?'—'Teaching and preaching the Christian religion.'

"'Are you a Padri?'—'Yes, Sir.'

"'Is it you who used to go about reading and distributing tracts?'

"'Yes, Sir, I and my catechist.'

"'How many Christians have you made?'

"'I did not make any Christians, for no human being can change the heart of another, but God, through my instrumentality, brought to the belief of His true religion about a couple of dozens.'"

This roused the man's fury. He exclaimed that Gopinath deserved a cruel death; he threatened to cut off his nose, ears, and hands, and to make slaves of his poor little children. Then, perhaps moved by a little pity, the Moulvie offered not only to spare but to favour Gopinath if he would become a Mahomedan. The converted Hindu replied that he would prefer death. The same offer was made to Gopinath's wife, and she returned a like brave answer.

The Mahomedan sent the family to prison, saying that he would give them three days to consider. The prison was shared with a European and some native Christians. After relating to each other their sad stories, the whole afflicted party, at Gopinath's suggestion, knelt down to pray. Whilst they were thus engaged, one of the guards came and kicked Gopinath on the back, bidding him pray after the Mahomedan form or hold his tongue.

CHEKE and GOPINATH NUNDI.

The next day a youthful officer, named Cheke, sorely wounded, was added to the band of prisoners. Gopinath tended him as well as he could, which seems to have made the daroga angry, for he put Gopinath into the stocks. A party of Mahomedans now came, and again Gopinath was offered immediate release if he would deny his faith.

The almost dying Cheke cried with a loud voice, "Padri, Padri, be firm, do not give way!"

And God enabled the sufferer to keep firm, though he saw his poor wife dragged from him by her hair, and brutally wounded in the face.

Three days passed, but God withheld the Moulvie from fulfilling his threat of murdering his heroic prisoner. A fourth—a fifth day found the Christian family still enduring their ordeal of fiery trial. On the sixth day the Moulvie came to the prison, and mockingly, asked his poor captive if he were comfortable.

"How can I be comfortable when my feet are fastened to the stocks?" was the reply; yet Gopinath added an expression of submission to the will of his Heavenly Father.

But the parent could not forbear asking the tyrant how he could be so cruel as not to allow a drop of milk to a poor innocent baby. The sufferings of his helpless family must have been to Gopinath even more grievous than his own.

But these sufferings were near their close. Brave Europeans and Sikh soldiers were now at hand; a fierce fight ensued, and the Moulvie's followers were utterly routed. Gopinath and his family were free! Who can describe their delight when they found themselves rescued by God's almighty power, with the yet higher joy of feeling through all that awful trial of faith they had been kept from denying their Saviour! How devout must have been their thanksgivings to Him who had brought them through that Valley of the Shadow of Death into light, and joy, and freedom!

Gopinath and his wife lived to re-organise the church in Futteypore though they were not very long afterwards called into the presence of the Heavenly King whom they had so faithfully served.—What cause had Dr. Duff, (he had then received the title of Doctor,) to rejoice over the convert who so many years before had come to him in tears with the cry, "Can I be saved!"

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CHAPTER IX.

DRIVEN HOME.

Let us return to the earlier days spent by our Missionary in Calcutta.

Alexander Duff had started for India a remarkably fine and powerful man. But hard work, fiery heat, and long fatiguing journeys taken in the course of his labours, ere many years had passed, brought him to the brink of the grave. First he had violent jungle fever, but recovering from this, he was soon again at his work. Remittent fever came on; Duff struggled on, loth to give way. But when severe dysentery followed, the once strong man was reduced to a state of utter prostration. An experienced doctor pronounced the sufferer's state to be almost desperate, but very little hope was entertained of saving the life of Mr. Duff.

However, after awaking from a long deep trance, the sufferer so far revived that he could be taken on board a ship. The sick Missionary could hardly endure the idea of leaving his work in India. He implored the doctor to send him on a short voyage and not all the way to England.

"I devoted myself to the Lord," he pleaded, "to spend and to be spent in His service in this land."

The doctor almost sternly replied, "In the last nine months you have suffered more from tropical diseases than many who have passed their lives in India: let not a day be lost!"

And so, looking the wreck of his former self, after four years of very hard but very successful work, Mr. Duff for awhile took his leave of the land which he loved. His feelings towards Hindostan were expressed in words which he wrote at a later period.

"Wherever I wander, wherever I stay, my heart is in India, in deep sympathy with its multitudinous inhabitants, and in earnest longings for their highest welfare in time and in eternity!"

It was a comfort to the Missionary that he was able to leave his work to be carried on by wise and pious men, of a like spirit with himself.

It was on a Christmas day that the ship which carried Mr. Duff and his family, (for he was now father as well as husband) entered the Firth of Clyde. Once more the Highlander trod the soil of his dear native land, once more he looked with admiring eyes on the beautiful city of Edinburgh, with its bold hills, and picturesque castle.

The sea-air had greatly restored Mr. Duff, and the pure breezes of Scotland seemed to give him new life. But what measure of strength was renewed to him, was freely to be expended in the cause of Missions. Duff had not come home to rest. If he could not work "in" India, he would work "for" India still. He would rouse Scotland, aye, and England too, to give more freely, to labour more heartily, to pray more fervently for the benighted Hindus.

Only the fervour of his zeal enabled the Missionary to undergo the great fatigues which followed his return to his country. Amidst the frosts of winter or the heats of summer travelling North, South, East and West, Mr. Duff addressed hundreds of congregations all over the land of Scotland. Twice he visited London, and other large cities of England. Often, when almost exhausted, the Missionary would make long speeches in crowded meetings, he was known to do so even when just rising from a sick bed. Mr. Duff's thin gaunt form, his worn wasted face, pleaded as well as his voice.

On one occasion when Mr. Duff began to speak, it seemed as if he could only utter a few sentences, and he was conscious that many were gazing at him, fearful, as was afterwards said, that he would soon drop on the floor. But oh! the power of eloquence which God gave to that almost worn-out man! Though Duff's voice at last so failed that it was an effort to bring out a whisper, and he was so drenched with perspiration as to feel as if dragged through the sea, the effect of his speech was wonderful. Down the cheeks of even stern hard men the tears were flowing. Those who had cared little whether India's millions went to Heaven or Hell, were now ready to join heart and hand in the effort to save them. The rich gave largely, children joined in penny subscriptions, the poor gave gladly of their little. Oh! That the natives of India knew how much self-denial is shown by some of the humble subscribers to missions; what warm sympathy and loving pity is felt in Britain for nations in darkness, who have not yet welcomed the tidings of Salvation!

A lady who had seen Mr. Duff at a Communion service thus described him: "He seemed like one from Heaven; and he looked so ill, as if he might have passed away as he broke the bread."

Let us give a short specimen of the eloquence which, by God's blessing on it, made hearers not only give money, but in some cases "themselves" to the holy cause of missions. Let the voice of Duff, Oh! reader, speak to you as from the dead. You cannot look on the earnest face of him who almost died in the work of bringing sinners to Christ,—but imagine the missionary now before you,—imagine his words as addressed to yourself, his piercing gaze fixed upon you, his appeal made to "your" heart!

"Collect what is fair and lovely in every world, what is bright and dazzling in every sun . . . and after having united these myriads of bright orbs into one glorious constellation combining in itself the concentrated beauty and loveliness of the whole created universe, go and compare an atom to a world, a drop to the ocean,—the twinkle of a taper to the full blaze of the noontide sun, then may you compare even this all-comprehending constellation of beauty and excellence to Him Who is the brightness of the Father's glory, who is God over all, blessed for ever!

"And yet, wonder Oh! heavens, and rejoice Oh! earth! this great and mighty and glorious Being did, for our sakes, consent to veil His glory, and appear upon earth as a Man of sorrows, whose visage was so marred more than any man's, and His form more than the sons of men! Oh! is not this love, self-sacrificing love, love that is 'higher than the heights above, deeper than the depths beneath!' Oh! is not this condescension, self-sacrificing condescension, condescension without a parallel and without a name! 'God manifest in the flesh!' God manifest in the flesh for the redemption of a rebel race! Oh! is this the wonder of a world, is not this the astonishment of a universe!"

Then referring to the angels who had witnessed the wondrous coming of Christ to earth, the fervent speaker went on:

"Tell me, Oh! tell me if in their cloudless vision it would seem aught so marvellous, so passing strange, did they behold the greatest and mightiest of a guilty race, redeemed themselves at so vast a price, . . . issue forth in the footsteps of the Divine Redeemer into the waste howling wilderness of sin, to seek and to save them that are lost!"

Duff himself had thus gone forth once, thus was he eager to go forth once more. In vain was he tempted again and again by offers of honourable employment, which would have given him ease and comfort in the land of his birth. It was not that Duff did not love Scotland; no, he passionately loved his country. He declared that as regarded his own comfort, he would rather have the poorest hut, with the homeliest fare, and the bleakest cleft of Scotland, than be the possessor of the stateliest palace in Bengal.

"I would go," cried the true-hearted Missionary, "not because I love Scotland less, but because I humbly and devoutly trust that, through the aid of Divine grace, I have been led to love my God and Saviour, and the extension of His blessed cause on earth still more."

And so, as soon as he was well enough to return, Mr. (now Dr.) Duff prepared for another long voyage to India, accompanied by his loving faithful wife. They both had a sore sacrifice to make, for they left their fondly loved children behind. For eleven long years the parents were never to look on their faces again, and one little darling they were never again to behold in this world. When Dr. Duff preached his farewell sermon, the listening people were in tears.

We will not stop to give an account of the outward journey. It was a very long one, and again, before landing in Calcutta, the travellers encountered the monsoon. For twelve hours the fierce hurricane raged. But at length the haven was reached, and Dr. Duff again set his foot on India's shore, to begin once more his loving labours for the welfare of her children.

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CHAPTER X.

TUMULTS AND THREATS.

Education work grew fast and increased, as the banyan-tree sends down shoots that themselves grow to be trees. Before Dr. Duff had reached the age of forty, there were three colleges and many schools belonging to the Scottish mission. Many indeed were the learners, but it is only now and then that one is found bold enough and faithful enough to come out openly and declare what he believes in his heart. Such a one was Umesh Chander Sirkar.

For two years the Bible teaching in the college had deeply impressed the soul of the young Hindu. His friends in alarm, advised him to study "infidel" writings; they would rather have him devoid of all religion than a believer in Christ! They would rather, as it were, put out his eyes, than let him fix their gaze on the Saviour! But what Umesh Chander read made him but the more firmly a Christian. He was youthful, only sixteen; he longed to keep with him his sweet child-wife, then only ten years of age. For two years the young couple in the dead of night studied the Scriptures together; at no other time could they have been safe from interruption. It was a sight to make angels rejoice when the youth, his own heart glowing with holy love, taught the child-wife to look to Jesus as the Way, the Truth, and the Life! Umesh Chander's words dropped like seed on a rich soil, the little Hindu wife showed herself worthy of her husband.

At last Umesh Chander put into the girl' hand that wonderful allegory, the "Pilgrim's Progress." The quick mind of the little Hindu grasped the meaning of the parable. When the girl of twelve read the description of Christian's flight from the City of Destruction, she exclaimed, "Is not this exactly our condition? Are we not now living in the City of Destruction? Is it not our duty to act like Christian, to arise, forsake all, and flee our lives?"

The brave child's words seem to have brought her husband to a decision. The next idol-festival gave an opportunity for flight.

It was a Sabbath evening; a meeting for prayer had been held with native converts. After it, Dr. Duff had retired to his own room. It was to him a time of great anxiety and trial. News from Scotland had troubled him greatly. Dark clouds seemed to be gathering round; even his brave heart was oppressed with care. Such seasons come to try the faith of the most devoted Christians. Dr. Duff was wondering how God would interfere to deliver His people from their distresses, when his sad thoughts had a delightful interruption.

Suddenly Umesh Chander with his brave little wife, and Jugadishwar, a convert who had aided their escape, appeared before him! In the joy of his heart the Missionary exclaimed, "The Lord be praised!"

But a terrible tumult was to follow. Not even Gopinath's conversion had excited such a commotion. Umesh Chander's father was a man of great power as well as bigotry; he was the treasurer of the Mullik family who possessed enormous wealth. The Mulliks and Sirkars with their numerous followers besieged the house of Dr. Duff, the place of refuge which had been sought by the youthful pair. The mob attempted violence, they were full of wrath and fury. Dr. Duff had to keep his door fast closed to prevent the fugitives thronging in and carrying off his guests by force. Finding that they could not rush in, the Hindus changed their mode of attack. The scene was changed to a court of justice. Umesh Chander's father, boldly lying, declared that his son was but fourteen years of age, and that Dr. Duff was keeping him in his house by force and against the boy's own will! What must that religion be which needs the prop of falsehood!

The Chief Justice appeared on the Bench, the case was investigated at once. The convert was proved to be really upwards of eighteen years of age. No question was raised about the wife; the brave child was allowed to remain with her husband. Both were baptised together, two youthful pilgrims starting hand in hand on their journey to the Heavenly City. Oh! Tie of marriage how close and how blessed when husband and wife are "one in the Lord!" This was the first instance in Bengal of a wedded Hindu pair receiving baptism together.

It is some time since Umesh Chander Sirkar reached his celestial home, but it is interesting to know that his wife still survives, and works amongst Hindu girls! May she win many to enter on the same blessed flight from the City of Destruction!

About a week after the double baptism, the tumult was repeated; another Christian convert had dared to confess his faith! Baikunta Nath Day took refuge with Dr. Smith from the storm which his conversion had raised. But the protection of this house proved less effectual than that of Dr. Duff's had been. While the Missionary was absent, the poor fugitive was torn by force from the dwelling, carried off to a relative's house, and "imprisoned in chains!" And actually Baikunta's family were wicked enough to try to bind him in the yet stronger chains of "vice!" If they could make him utterly vile, they thought that he would be unfitted to become a Christian. What cared they for the ruin of his soul, so that the family were not disgraced by his adopting the religion of the pure and spotless Jesus!

But the dear lad was strengthened to resist all the temptations which man or devil could bring to drag him down to perdition. And the Lord delivered Baikunta not only out of temptation but out of his chains. The place of his confinement was discovered, and the law obliged his tormentors to give up their prey. The Rev. Baikunta Nath now preaches the Gospel of Christ.

The Hindus exerted themselves to the utmost to ruin the work of Christian education. Their efforts at first seemed to have great success. The number of Dr. Duff's pupils had risen to above a thousand in daily attendance, but he lost three hundred youths in one week!

Nor was this all that tried the Missionary. More baptisms fanned the flame of bigotry into farther fury. Four more Koolin Brahmans had confessed the Saviour. A violent anti-Christian meeting was held. Actually a plot was formed to get rid altogether of the great opponent of idolatry, Dr. Duff. If his eloquent persuasive tongue could be silenced in no other way, it could be silenced in death. How easy to hire ruffians to waylay and attack him.

Dr. Duff received kindly warnings of his danger. One person wrote, "There is, I hear, a conspiracy amongst the wealthy Baboos to hire some ruffians to maltreat you. If you treat it (the report) with contempt, you will go on us usual; on the contrary if you think the report to be true, you will avoid going out at night, or rather never go the same road twice together."

Another wrote, "I have been credibly and seriously informed this day that there is, or is to be, a plot by which some ruffians of the baser sorts are hired to assault you . . . pray do not at least go out by night &c."

The brave soul of Dr. Duff was not to be moved by personal fear. He published a paper headed "A word of faithful and firm yet kindly admonition to some of the Calcutta Baboos." This paper is too long to be inserted in full, but an extract will show the writer's spirit.

"As to the rumour of threats regarding myself, I shall continue to regard them as an idle tale. Amongst the Calcutta Baboos there are those whom I respect and esteem, and to whose keeping I would at any time entrust my life, in the most perfect confidence of friendship and protection. If others, who do not know me personally, should in ignorance of my principles and motives, entertain unkindly or hostile feelings towards me, the fact would be in no way surprising. Even if the alleged threats were real, and not the progeny of lying fiction, I should not be in the least moved by them. My trust is in God."

And towards the end of his paper, Dr. Duff alluding to the well-known saying that "the blood of martyrs is the seed of the church," thus shows his calm confidence that even his murder could do no real injury to the cause of God and His truth.

"The first actual missionary martyrdom that shall be enacted in this heavenly cause may do more, under the over-ruling Providence of God to precipitate the inevitable doom of Hinduism, and speed on the chariot of Gospel triumph, than would the establishment of a thousand additional Christian schools, or the delivery of ten thousand additional Christian addresses throughout the towns and villages of this mighty empire."

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CHAPTER XI.

GLIMPSES OF INNER LIFE.

A pleasant picture of the great Missionary has been given by one of his converts.

"We joined Dr. and Mrs. Duff, (their children being away in Scotland) at family worship both morning and evening. Duff was punctual as clockwork. At eight in the morning, not one minute before or after, the prayer-bell rang, and we were all in the breakfast-room, where the morning worship used to be held. Duff was always observant of the forms of politeness, and never forget to shake hands with us, asking us the usual question, 'How do you do?' By the way, Duff's shake of the hand was different from that of other people; it was not a mere formal stiff languid shake, but like everything else of him warm and hearty. He would go on shaking, catching fast hold of your hand in his, and would not let it go for some seconds.

"We always began by singing one of the grand old Psalms of David . . . The reading over we all knelt down. Oh! how shall I describe the prayers which Duff offered up both morning and evening! Much as I admired Duff in his public appearances in the pulpit or on the platform, I admired and loved him infinitely more at the family altar, where in a simple and childlike manner he devoutly and earnestly poured out his soul before our common Father in Heaven."

In 1847 Dr. Duff was deeply grieved by news of the death of a dear and revered friend, Dr. Chalmers, who was called the Father of the Free Scotch Church. Dr. Chalmers had indeed held the highest and most influential position of all the church ministers in Scotland, and an anxious question arose as to who would be worthy to succeed him. There was one man indeed, who was felt by many to be most worthy, talented, devoted and wise; that man was Alexander Duff. By vote the opinion of the Free Church was taken in this very important matter; and the result was that Dr. Duff received a call from the General Assembly to come back to his native land, take the Theological chair,—and so in clerical matters hold the position of leader. So certain were some that Dr. Duff would with pleasure accept so highly honourable a post, which would restore him to his country and children, that not only individuals, but writers in newspapers congratulated him upon what they called his promotion.

The young Church of India was struck with alarm at the prospect of losing their teacher and guide. Duff's converts implored him as their much-loved spiritual father in the Lord not to leave them. Even to non-Christian natives the news of Dr. Duff's probable departure came like a blow. A remonstrance was written by eleven learned Brahmans "desirous of the Chief Good," to the people of Scotland. The Hindus pleaded with his countrymen that Dr. Duff might be left to India. They thus wrote, "this illustrious person has devoted his head and heart, and spent large sums of money . . . Such a man as the Reverend Doctor was never seen in this country before . . . Good men have become sad, and bad men are rejoicing. The friends of true religion are praying that God would change the minds of the people of Scotland, and prevent Dr. Duff's recall."

The infant Church had no need to fear that anything short of God's Will would suffice to make their beloved teacher give up his Indian work. Dr. Duff declared that he must die as he had lived, a Missionary.

"The Church of my fathers," he wrote home, "must see it to be right and meet to allow me to retain in the view of all men the clearly marked and distinguishing character 'of a Missionary to the Heathen;' abroad labouring directly amongst them, at home pleading their cause among the Churches of Christendom . . . For the sake of the heathen, and especially of the people of India, let me cling all my days to the Missionary cause."

It must never be thought that it was from indifference to his children that Dr. Duff endured to be parted from them so long. With grief and bursting tears, he received news of the death of his darling little daughter Annie. Long afterwards, he thus wrote of her in a letter to his wife.

"I seldom allude to dear child who bore your name, but the sweet image of her often crosses my mind. She was a perfectly loveable one, and I know not that I ever felt any stroke so acutely as her unexpected death. And even still, when alone by myself, the thought of her cheerful animated countenance, with its sweet expression and lisping tongue, often brings the tear to my eye, as now."

The brave man, the talented scholar, had a tender affectionate heart; he loved to play with little ones. In his kindness, he followed the steps of the Blessed Saviour, who took up children in His arms, and blessed them.

Still less must it be thought that because Dr. Duff was so honoured in lands, near and afar, and had been the means of leading so many converts to Christ, that his heart was lifted up with spiritual pride. Brahmans indeed had declared that there was never such a man seen in the country before, but what did the gifted Missionary think of "himself?" An extract from Dr. Duff's private journal gives us a glimpse of the brave strong Christian, not as he appeared in the school-room, the lecture-hall, or the Church, but as he was when on his knees in his chamber, alone with his God. Read and ponder over what follows, ye who think that a man can be justified by his works.

"All my days I have been a child of Providence, the Lord leading me and guiding me in ways unknown to me, in ways of His own, and for the accomplishment of His own heavenly ends. Oh! that I were more worthy! But somehow I feel as if the more marvellous the Lord's dealings with me, the more cold, heartless and indolent I become. Is not this sad, is it not terrible! All the finer ores are melted by the fire, the earthy clay is hardened. Oh! God, forbid that this should continue to be my doleful case! May I be like the gold and silver ore, when warmed and heated by the fire of Thy loving-kindnesses, may I be melted, fused, purified, refined, assimilated to Thy own holy nature! Oh! Lord, soften, break, melt this hard heart of mine!"

If such a man so wrote, so felt, so condemned himself, what mortal on earth can boast over what he is, or what he has done! The devoted, self-sacrificing Duff trusted in nothing in himself, his only hope of Heaven was in the Saviour who died for sinners, the blood which cleanseth from guilt!

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CHAPTER XII.

A HOLIDAY WITHOUT REST.

When it became known in Scotland that Dr. Duff declined going home to become Divinity Professor, he was urged at least to return for a limited time. There was so much work to be done in Britain; so much good, it was truly said, might result to the Missionary cause by Dr. Duff's pleading for it again, as he had pleaded before. It is doubtful whether Dr. Duff would have consented even to this, had he had health, after ten years of hard labour in this second visit to India, to remain without a change. But the doctor urged him to go home for a while after work which had "evidently shattered his constitution," and Dr. Duff submitted to what he felt to be the Will of the Lord. He gathered all the information which he could regarding missions in various parts of India to make use of in his addresses at home, and in May 1850 found himself in his native land, and in the bosom of his family once more.

Again what might have been called the Missionary's holiday was employed in the most earnest labours. In hurrying from place to place, from meeting to meeting, the Missionary perhaps endured as much fatigue as from the heavy work in India. Thus he wrote in the bitterly cold month of November, when on one of his numerous journeys.

"Since I left the pulpit on Sunday I have scarcely yet got into anything like warmth, either by night or day. I have felt as if the cold were oozing through my whole body from head to foot . . . And what with unseasoned rooms and unseasoned beds and frosty air, and chills after full meetings, I feel as if it were a kind of living martyrdom to be encountering all this . . . But most gladly would I bear all, and a great deal more, if possible, for the sake of Him who so loved us as to lay down His very life for us, were I to behold substantial fruit to His praise and glory. I must however leave all to Him. My own shortcomings are ever before me . . .

"Nothing sustains me but the divine assurance that the blood of Jesus cleanseth from all sin. Blessed Saviour! Who would not cheerfully toil and suffer for Thee!"

Dr. Duff, exhausted, yet struggling on still, thus wrote to his wife when he was engaged on one of his preaching tours.

"It is some relief to the mind to get disburdened, and to whom can I disburden it if not to you, the partner of my joys and sorrows for nearly a quarter of a century. No one can over fully know how much I often suffer both in mind and body in the midst of these frequent, prolonged, and violent exertions: and to none but yourself can I ever moot the subject except in the vaguest and most general terms. In the excitement of speaking, the spirit forgets the fragility of the body, and therefore people think me strong. Oh! if they could see me in my solitary chamber all alone . . . the whole frame feverish, the whole nervous system from the brain downwards in a state of total unrest. The very tendency to sleep gone. Going to bed, as this morning, at half past one, not from sleepiness but from inability to sit up longer from exhaustion. Turning and tossing from side to side, and longing for sleep . . . Getting up, disquieted and unrefreshed, to meet a company at breakfast, with aching head besides and sorish throat . . . Yet, the Lord be praised; in the midst of all this I have intervals of real spiritual enjoyment, indeed, when most weak and pained often is that enjoyment proportionally increased. And then the favour which the Lord shows me in the sight of His people, and the good so often unexpectedly achieved, all this makes me feel that what I suffer is the discipline of a Father's rod to keep me humble in walking before him."

Exhausted as the Missionary was, he could not refuse what he felt to be a call from God to visit America, as he was earnestly entreated to do.

"We want to be stirred up there; there is plenty of material there, we need only to be stirred up," was the appeal which Dr. Duff could not resist.

He knew that in two mighty countries of the West, the United States and Canada, embers, as it were, of Christian love were smouldering that might be stirred up into a glorious blaze to illumine half the world. Duff's own heart was glowing with zeal, he must go, by God's grace, to infuse his own warmth into others. The Missionary embarked on the twenty-eighth January, 1854, for the United States of America.

Again was Dr. Duff to meet with tempest and tribulation, though not this time with shipwreck. Such a gale came that, in the Missionary's own words,—

"It looked at one time as if the vessel could not possibly survive it . . . On Thursday morning the spectacle presented by the vessel was most extraordinary. Though it still blew hard, the sky cleared with intense frosty air, exhibiting the ship as if one huge mass of ice. The deck was covered with it, several inches thick, the ropes, spars, and rigging; the masts up to their sails, all well encrusted in ice from two to six inches thick."

NEW YORK, UNITED STATES.

It was doubtless a wondrous and beautiful sight that of a large ship turned, as it seemed, into ice. But not only must the great cold have destroyed anything like comfort, but the weight of the quantities of ice sank the ship nine inches deeper in the water. Of course the hard crust had to be knocked away, all hands were set to work to break off the glittering masses; and we may hope that the violent exercise served to warm the chilled crew of the ice-mantled ship.

When the vessel had almost reached the harbour, Dr. Duff thus wrote to his wife.

"To the Lord do I give thanks. He hath brought us at last over the stormy billows into a quiet haven. Nor has all this trial been in vain. When downright ill, the mind was utterly incapable of thought, but there were intervals when, in spite of the sick sensations, the mind could variously exert itself. The whole of the past came up in review before me, all the way in which the Lord hath led me. And Oh! how humbling the retrospection as regards myself! The loving-kindnesses of the Lord how manifold; my own shortcomings in every way how manifold . . . In the end I had no consolation whatever but in clinging as with a death grasp to the precious assurance that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin . . . I thought that if never heard of any more, and our vessel founder amid the stormy Atlantic waves, the Lord might, in one way or other, overrule my death to the good of the souls of the members of my family and raise up friends to them, and ensure the furtherance of His own cause. On these points I came at times to a serene feeling of resignation to His holy will. But, if spared, Oh! how I longed to be a new burnished instrument in His hands. I wait for guidance, I wait for light in the path of duty. Oh! for simple single-heartedness, and self-denying devotion to Him that loveth us!"

I will not attempt to give a detailed account of Dr. Duff's very interesting visit to that grand country, the United States. He was welcomed with a warmth and enthusiasm which quite astonished the Missionary.

"Each one (in a large meeting) shook hands with me," he wrote, "as if I were an old familiar friend, as if he knew all about me, and hailed me as a brother in the Lord . . . I was lost in wonder, adoring gratitude, and love. I approached these shores with much anxiety, in much fear and trembling. I felt an oppressive uneasiness of spirit which I could not shake off. My only relief was in casting myself entirely on the Lord, and in praying His will might be done, and His only . . . Surely, I felt, this unparalleled reception must be a first smile of Jehovah."

Indeed the loving kindness, the generous enthusiasm which Dr. Duff met as he passed from city to city, and held crowded meeting after meeting in the United States and the Dominion of Canada, was marvellous to behold. If ever a man was half killed with kindness, that man was Dr. Duff. Every one was so eager to hear him, so impatient to see him, that his small remaining stock of strength was utterly overtaxed. He wrote,—

"I am driven in spite of myself, to do more than I know I can well stand . . . If I could multiply myself into a hundred bodies, each with the strength of a Hercules, and the mental and moral energy of a Paul, I could not overtake the calls and demands made on me here, and from many other quarters since my arrival . . . All very delightful, if I had the needful strength. But no strength of any man that ever lived would stand out all this . . . As regards this place I have abundant satisfaction in already knowing that I have not come here in vain."

No, indeed, Dr. Duff had not come to the West in vain, his labours bore rich and varied fruit. When he embarked again for home, a letter was put into his hand containing £3000, or at least 30,000 rupees for the missionary cause from New York and Philadelphia. Canada also gave her cheerful aid, and this though Dr. Duff "had nowhere pleaded for money," and had only spoken of his own special work in India when pressed to do so at social meetings. Nor were large subscriptions from various quarters all the results of that memorable visit; American love for missions had been stirred up to a blaze which has never since died out. The United States still give some of their noblest sons and daughters to work for the Lord in India, side by side with their brethren and sisters from England and Scotland.

On the morning of his embarkation, Dr. Duff preached for the last time in America to multitudes assembled to see him depart. With a loving grateful heart he gave the people his solemn blessing, and all the congregation rose to receive it. Then leaving the pulpit, and making his way through crowds who pressed forward to have one more grasp of his hand, the Missionary passed on to the steamer.

"There," wrote an eye-witness, "the scene defied description. The wharf and the noble 'Pacific' were crowded with Christians assembled to bid him farewell. Many could only take him by the hand, weep and pass on. Never did any man leave our shores so encompassed with Christian sympathy and affection."

Dr. Duff's visit to America had been a glorious success, but a heavy price was to be paid for it by the exhausted Missionary. After his return home, Dr. Duff became fearfully ill. Congestion of the brain, followed by utter prostration of the over-worked mind, made the once powerful and talented man helpless as a little child. It was a cause of deep thankfulness, after a long space of time had elapsed, to find that the grand mind was not permanently impaired, that the brain was recovering its power.

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CHAPTER XIII.

IN INDIA AGAIN.

Long as it was before the invalid regained the power to work, with that power came the renewed desire to labour in India. Dr. Duff never forgot that beloved land. How the Missionary felt may be shown by part of a letter written in 1853, before his last severe illness, to one of the Indian converts.

"Separated from you in body I am continually with you in spirit, in the Institution and among your classes. If I am remaining in this country longer than I had expected, it is only for the sake of India's welfare. For India is ever uppermost in my mind, and my prayer to God is that she may yet be 'great, glorious and free.'"

At last the earnest desire of the Missionary to return to his post overcame all obstacles. On the 13th of October, 1855, for the third and last time Dr. Duff started for India. He was still in weak health, but the spirit firm and brave as ever. We can imagine the welcome which he received from his Calcutta children in Christ.

Here an anecdote may be introduced which shows that Dr. Duff's power to draw out sympathy and liberality, was not limited to times when he addressed Europeans, Americans or Native Christians. At a period when grievous famine desolated part of India, Dr. Duff was requested by a wealthy Baboo to make an address on the subject in his house. The upper part of the dwelling was occupied by native ladies, who behind their purdah could listen without being seen. Gentle is the heart of the Hindu; Dr. Duff spoke not to those who were so full of their own cares or pleasures that they could not feel for others. Plates of rupees were brought down from the ladies for the relief of the sufferers from famine.

A very terrible time for India was at hand, when the Missionary returned to her shores. In May 1857 the fearful Mutiny broke out. We will not dwell upon the story of horrors, a glimpse of which has been given in the 7th chapter. Calcutta was full of disturbance and alarm. Dr. and Mrs. Duff lived in the native part of the city, entirely unprotected. Their friends implored them to retire to a safer place. But the brave pair thought it better to remain at their post of duty. Dr. Duff and other clergymen went on with their work.

One Sunday there was a very great panic in Calcutta; the Duffs and but one other couple had the courage to remain in their dangerous quarters. But, as the Missionary wrote, "Faith in Jehovah as our Refuge and Strength led us to cling to our post, and we laid us down to sleep as usual; and on Monday morning my remark was, 'well, I have not enjoyed such a soft, sweet, refreshing rest for weeks past!' Oh! how our own hearts rose in adoring gratitude to Him who is the keeper of Israel, and who slumbers not, nor sleeps!"

Dr. Duff's Bengal Mission went on growing; it was remarked that it had never been so prosperous as in the Mutiny year. In his College and School about twelve hundred lads assembled, receiving freely instruction in science and in the Christian religion. The Hindus themselves were astonished at the large blessing vouchsafed by God to the work.

In 1861 Dr. Duff had the grief of losing his spiritual son, the Rev. Gopinath Nundi, whose sufferings and heroism in the Mutiny have already been related. The touching words in which the Missionary wrote of the departed convert, show how dear his native pupil was to his heart.

"Little did I dream when parting with him then that it was the last time I was to gaze on that mild but earnest countenance. Little did I dream when we knelt down together, hand in hand, in my study, to commend each other to the Father of spirits, it was the last time we should meet till we hail each other, before the throne on high, as redeemed by the blood of the Lamb. But so it has proved. I mourn over him as I would over an only son, till at times my eyes are sore with weeping. It is not the sorrow of repining at the dispensation of a gracious God and loving Father, Oh! no! but the outburst and overflow of affectionate grief for one whom I loved as my own soul. But he has gone to his rest, and to his glorious reward!"

Two years more of earnest, successful labour, and Dr. Duff's own working days in India were over. In the month of July, 1863, dysentery again laid him low. To save the Missionary's life, the doctors hurried him off on a sea-voyage to China. This remedy was insufficient, and the devoted Duff himself saw that after nearly a third of a century of almost perpetual work, it was the Master's will that His servant should retire at last. Sore must have been the struggle in his mind, but Duff was trained to believe that in all things God knows best. Bitter was the trial of parting to the many natives of India who honoured and loved him, bitter to the Missionary himself.

The following is part of his reply to an address from a Society representing all educated non-Christian Bengal. It expresses the feelings with which this apostle of India quitted her shores for ever. He comforted himself with the hope of that day when the Gospel shall spread through the length and breadth of the earth.

"That bright and glorious era for India and the world I have long seen in the vision of faith. The vividly real hope of it has often sustained me amid toils and sufferings, calamities and reproaches, disappointment and reverse. And the assured prospect of its ultimate realisation helps now to shoot some gleams of light athwart the darkness of my horizon, and so far to blunt the keen edge of grief and sadness when about to bid a final adieu to these long-loved Indian shores . . . Some of you may live to witness not merely its blissful dawn, but its meridian effulgence; to me that privilege will not be vouchsafed. My days are already in the sere and yellow leaf . . . the sap and vigour of summer's out-bursting fulness have well-nigh gone, leaving me dry and brittle like a withered herb or flower at the close of autumn; the hoar frost of old age, age prematurely old, grim wintry old age is fast settling down upon me. But whether, under the ordinance of the High and Holy One who inhabiteth eternity, my days be few or many, whether my old age be one of decrepitude or of privileged usefulness, my best and latest thoughts will be of India. Wherever I wander, wherever I rest, my heart will be still in India."

So, attended by sorrowing, weeping friends, the wearied wasted Missionary went down to the ghaut, and embarked for Britain. Oh! What tear-dimmed eyes watched him as the vessel weighed anchor, and followed him as the ship moved farther and farther away, which bore from his Indian children their friend and father! At last it was seen no more! Dr. Duff had departed, but never to be forgotten; perhaps to this day there is no man's name remembered in India with deeper reverence and love, than that of the devoted Missionary, the gifted teacher, the Christian hero whose story we are relating.

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CHAPTER XIV.

A GOLDEN SUNSET.

As this little book is specially designed to tell of Dr. Duff's mission work in India, no account need be given of his many labours after quitting her shore. This however must be said, that if Dr. Duff had reached "grim wintry old age," in that season, his life bore richer fruit to the glory of God and the good of man, than one mortal out of a thousand brings forth during life's whole year. And on what labours, and what success the noble Duff could look back, since in youth's springtime he gave himself to the Lord!

In Calcutta, instead of the hired house which could not hold all his pupils so that they had to come in relays, in a splendid building, which cost 150,000 rupees, multitudes have received instruction. A proud man, in Duff's place, might have exclaimed: "Lo! Where I went forth alone, in the single Free Church Mission to which I belong, there have been in the last half-century one hundred and fifteen Scottish, and forty-four Native Missionaries, some still on earth, and some now in glory; of these how many did 'I' draw to the work! There were in 1830 'two' primary schools in Bombay and Calcutta, now behold 'two hundred and ten' Colleges and Schools in the land, in which more than fifteen thousand youths and girls can hear the glad news of salvation; how many of these institutions owe their beginning to me! The Free Church of Scotland alone has numbered 6,458 adult converts; how many of them were as sheaves gathered by me! And this is but a part of my work. If a stream of liberality flows in the channel of missions, not only in my own land but in others, how often have the springs which feed them been opened by me!"

But we cannot even imagine the lowly Missionary uttering such words of pride, or even in thought exulting presumptuously in the success which he owed to the blessing of God. This is his own idea of what would be a suitable inscription on his tomb.

"Here lies Alexander Duff, by nature and practice a sinful guilty creature, but saved through grace, through faith in the blood and righteousness of his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."

And were aught to be added to such an inscription, Dr. Duff would have it but this: "by profession a Missionary; by his life and labours the true and constant friend of India."

A heavy affliction came to Dr. Duff before he was called to his heavenly rest. Early in 1865 the light of his eyes, the joy of his heart, his beloved wife, sank to sleep in Jesus. Dr. Duff, as we have seen, was a man of very keen feelings, and sore must have been his grief as he stood by the grave of her of whom he thus wrote:

"My faithful loving spouse, my other half, who sustained and cheered and comforted me, and was not only the life of my dwelling but my very home itself, . . . is gone! She is not, for God hath taken her to the temple above, to serve and enjoy Him there for ever."

The aged Christian did not mourn as those without hope. As he writes in a letter to his sorrowing son:

"What my own feelings are I dare not venture to attempt to describe, nor would I if I could. The union cemented by upwards of thirty eight years of a strangely eventful life, in many climes and amid many perils and trials and joys, so suddenly so abruptly brought to a final close in this world; Oh! it is agony to look on in itself. But when I turn to the Saviour, and the saintly one now in glory, I do see the dark cloud so lustred with the rainbow of hope and promise, that I cannot but mingle joy with my sorrow, and we can all unite in praising the Lord for His goodness, His marvellous loving-kindnesses towards me in the hour of our sore trial."

But one more scene shall be given from the life of Dr. Duff,—and that scene is the last. In 1878 the aged Christian became so ill, that his second son was summoned by telegraph from India. He arrived in time to join with Dr. Duff's daughter and grandson in loving ministry to the dying saint. The old Missionary's sun was calmly, peacefully setting, amidst clouds of glory. When the first joy of seeing his son was over, the pilgrim so near the end of his journey said, "I am in God's hands to go or stay; if He has need of me He will raise me up, if otherwise it is far better."

Thoughtful to the last of his friends, Dr. Duff dictated a list of about fifty persons to whom he wished books to be sent as a dying remembrance from him. When told that the doctor thought ill of his case, quietly the sufferer replied, "I never said with more calmness in my life, continually by day and by night, 'Thy will, my God, my God be done!' In my own mind I see the whole scheme of redemption from eternity more clear and glorious than I ever did."

Yes, it was on the perfect sacrifice Christ, the son of God, that the eyes of the dying believer were fixed.

Dr. Duff's daughter repeated the beautiful hymn,—

"How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
To a believer's ear,
It soothes his sorrow, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear."

The voice of Dr. Duff, so soon to be hushed in silence, exclaimed with emphasis, "unspeakable!"

Truly the Christian, whether living or dying, in that blessed name can rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory!

The Twenty-third Psalm was afterwards repeated by Dr. Duff's daughter to her dying father, as he lay apparently unconscious. But life was lingering yet, he responded at the end of each verse. How blessed when believers, passing through the valley of the shadow of death, can realise as the Missionary did, "I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me!"

At last the once eloquent lips that so often had pleaded with and for the sons of India, could utter no word more, yet still the departing saint knew the voices of those whom he loved, and he showed his consciousness by a tender grasp of the hand. The sun of life was slowly, calmly disappearing behind the horizon. The voice of the Master whom Duff had deeply loved and faithfully served, was bidding him come up higher. The disciple was laying down the cross for ever, to receive the heavenly crown. And so, in perfect peace, Alexander Duff sank to rest. We cannot follow his enraptured spirit as it rose from the slumbering clay, nor conceive the bliss which awaits him when the body too shall rise in the Resurrection-day!

"Fulness of joy! on Christ's right hand to hear
Love's invitation to draw yet more near,—
Ye blessed children—come!"

And now the story of Alexander Duff's life has been briefly told. It only remains to add a few words to the reader.

If you are not yet a follower of the Lord Jesus, if you are not yet assured that Christianity is of God, pause and look at the picture of a believer which has been placed before you. Was it mere natural goodness of heart that made Dr. Duff what he was? What nerved him to moot difficulties, danger, distress with unflinching courage; what made him not count his life dear to himself? What made him patient in trouble, and humble in triumph, working like a giant, yet trusting like a child? Do such fruits naturally grow on the trees of earth, and if not, must they not have a heavenly origin? Duff could have given the answer, "I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me." Duff's course was upward, onward, heavenward, because he was following the steps of the Saviour, and pressing forward looking unto Jesus.

Reader! If you be a believer, then there is also a word for you. Has not your conscience reproached you while reading the life of Dr. Duff? Is not his life and death a call to us not to stand idly looking on while labourers are sorely wanted in the Lord's great harvest field? Is there no sheaf which you can bind, is there no work which you can do? Does not the example before you rouse your languid spirit like the blast of a trumpet? Rise and be doing for the time is short; use your talents, be they few or many, to the sole glory of Him who gave them; the fountain from which Alexander Duff drew strength is open to you, the bliss upon which he has entered you may share; waiting, working, praying, praising, you too, with him may swell the victor's song, giving "glory, honour, thanksgiving and praise to Him who sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever!"

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EDINBURGH, THE CAPITAL OF SCOTLAND.

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Table of Contents

- THE STORY OF DR. DUFF

- CHAPTER I.

- CHAPTER II.

- CHAPTER III.

- CHAPTER IV.

- CHAPTER V.

- CHAPTER VI.

- CHAPTER VII.

- CHAPTER VIII.

- CHAPTER IX.

- CHAPTER X.

- CHAPTER XI.

- CHAPTER XII.

- CHAPTER XIII.

- CHAPTER XIV.

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE