great joy." It was, therefore equally from inclination
and principle, that we determined, if possible, to pre-
sent religion before him in her own charming and at-
tractive form. He never saw gloom in us ; and he soon
learned that religion was at once the inspirer and the
guardian of our happiness. A connexion, of great im-
portance to his future character and peace, was thus
early formed in his mind between godliness and pleas-
ure. And such was the effect of this happy associatioD_,
that though I never knew a human being who took a
more solemn view of the realities of eternity than he,
1 am persuaded he never once in his life contemplated
religion without a feeling of calm delight. He knew
it only as the guide of life, the support of the heart,
and the cherisher of a hope full of immortality. He
had never felt " the terrors of the Lord;" for he had
never known himself a sinner but in the light of those
holy scriptures which, at the very moment of shewing
him his condition, presented that blest sacrifice on which
21
he could confidently rest for everlasting life. But
though he had never passed through those nnental anxi-
eties and depressions which are found to give a pecu-
liarly thrilling interest to the doctrine of salvation by
faith in the Redeemer ; 1 have rarely found any one
who more ardently loved that distinguishing truth ; or
who felt more dissatisfied with sermons in which it did
not form a prominent feature.
We began very early to point out to him the proofs
OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. The steps of the argument
were so easy, that he soon comprehended all the lead-
ing topics in Paley's Natural Theology — a work, which,
it is needless to say, possesses for young minds all the
interest of a novel, by the variety of facts it adduces,
and the happy simplicitj'^ with which it applies them in
proof of its point. I did not introduce him, till later in
life, to Clarke's a priori reasoning on the same subject.
And, indeed, he never relished thatgreat writer's "De-
monstration." We corresponded and conversed much
on this subject, during the last year: but he always con-
sidered the argument, a posteriori, as the only popular,
and almost the sole ground that can be taken, with
effect, against an atheist. He seemed to think that
what was conclusive in the Demonstration, though not
founded on the method of induction, was, after all, only
the a posteriori argument in another form : and that the
rest, from our necessary ignorance of Infinity, was more
fitted to confound than satisfactorily to demonstrate. He
admired, however, the profoundness of Clarke ; and was
equally struck with astonishment at the acuteness of
Butler — first, a student for the dissenting ministry, after-
2
22
wards Bishop of Durham — who ranked, at the age of
twenty one, among' that great writer's most powerful
correspondents — for his objections were too much in the
form of doubts and modest inquiries, to place him among
his opponents.
At a period equally earlj'^, we made him acquainted
with the LEADING EVIDENCES OF DIVINE REVELATION, To
teach him these, — consisting, as most of them did, of
facts, which are as susceptil)le of historical proof as any
other facts, — we found to be no difficult task. It was,
however, our great object to shew him the proofs
which the holj^ scriptures themselves contain of their
own sacred origin. At about the age of nine, he was a
tolerable master of all the leading arguments in Paley.
In future life, he studied these evidences with fresh and
uncommon attention ; and as he was unusually acute in
perceiving all that could be said for and against any sub-
ject ; and as he shrunk irom no difficulty, his own mind
anticipated, fairly met, and, to his perfect satisfaction,
completely conquered, almost every objection which
the heads and hearts of men have brought, or can bring,
against the truth. Armed in (his panoply, and with a
deep and experimental feeling of its importance, he
pursued inquirv, till he left no single topic, connected
with the subject, unexplored. In more advanced years,
he found great advantage from Saurin, whose Sermons
of twelve volumes he read in French ; from Butler's
Analogy, which he fairly studied ; and from other works
which afforded materials for the exercise of his vigor-
ous understanding, as well as for the repose of his
heart.
23
Another great object was, to lead liim, as earlj^ as
possible, into a j^eneral acquaintance with the various
CONTENTS of Divine Revelation ; and especially to im-
press him with those primary truths — the fallen condi-
tion of man, which the scripture either uniformlj' as-
sumes, or distinctly asserts — and the abundant grace
which the gospel affords for his recovery from sin, and
his final happiness. We were anxious to put him in
possession of a correct principle, of interpretation. And
this principle so approved itself to his maturer under-
standing, that he ever held it inviolate. I used to saj'-,
" My dear, if God has spoken to man, and made an ex-
plicit declaration of his will, by persons whom he has
inspired, our business is, to ask. Where is that commu-
nication to be found ? This book claims the honor. If
God be its author, he has doubtless attended it with
proofs sufficient to convince an honest enquirer that it
comes from him. Examine the validity of its claim. —
Are you satisfied ? — This I may assume. Now, then,
there remains but one duty ; and that is, to ascertain,
by a fair application of the laws of criticism, what is its
import ? — In this you must rest." " If the New Testa-
ment," says Dr Chalmers, ••' be a message from God, it
behoves us to make an entire and unconditional surren-
der of our minds to all the duty and all the information
which it sets betore us. — Had no message come to us
from the fountain head of truth, it were natural enough
for every intelligent mind to take itself to its own spec-
ulations. But a message from God has come to us,
bearing, on its front, every character of authenticity ;
and is it right now, that the question of our faith or of
24
our duty should be committed to the capricious varia-
tions of this man's taste, or of that man's fancy ?" ' Our
maxim ! and our sentiment ! ' God has put an authori-
tative stop to all this ! He has spoken, and the right or
liberty of speculation no longer remains to us. The
question is now, not, ' What ihinkest thou V In the days
of Pagan antiquity, no other question could be put, — and
to the wretched delusions and idolatries of that period,
let us see what kind of answer the human mind is capa-
ble of making, when left to its own guidance, and its
own authority. But we call ourselves christians, and
profess to receive the bible as the directory of our
faith; and the question in which we are concerned is,
'What is written in the law ? How readest thou? What
sailh the scripture ?'*"
When more advanced in life — and after he had
thought profoundly on this, as on most other subjects
submitted to his attention, — he considered this princi-
ple of interpretation as so sacred, that rather than have
violated it ho would, if necessary to its maintenance,
have admitted the monstrous doctrine of transubstantia-
tion itself He more than once reasoned thus : — " The
doctrine of transubstantiation is unquestionably false.
The language of our Lord, — ' Except ye eat my Jiesh and
drink my blood — This is my Body'' — is in perfect unison
wjth many other passages as truly figurative, and equal-
ly as bold. Nor is there any such language, except as
connected with this subject, which even Catholics them-
selves understand liicrally. It is, therefore, right, and
even necessary, to iiitcr])ret these texts on the same
* Evidences and autlioiity of (he Cliristian Revelation.
25
principle by which all others are interpreted. Either
take all in their literal sense, or none : for there is no
assignable reason, why these should form exceptions.
But," added he, " If the general principle of rational
interpretation did not relieve me from the difficult}', I
would believe, how mysterious soever the doctrine
might be, that the sacramental elements were the very
body and blood of Christ ; because He, who can neither
err himself, nor delight to impose on his creatures, has
told me so. Though it seemed a contradiction to my
senses; and my reason might be ready to revolt from
it as an absurdity; 1 would rather suppose that God
wrought perpetual miracles in the case ; or resolve the
whole of my perceptions on the subject into sheer ig-
norance ; than, for a moment, question what my Saviour
had declared to be fact."' — He did, 1 grant, select aa
extreme case for his illustration : but I am most delib-
erately of opinion, that the principle itself is correct ^
and that many grievous errors have crept into the
church of God, from a disregard to its truth and im-
portance. This persuasion was far enough from crip-
pling his mind in the investigation of divine truth. He
brought to the inquiry, indeed, none of that daring har-
dihood which sacrifices every canon of fair interpreta-
tion to the preconception of what a revelation from
heaven ought or ought not to contain : for, having once
become fully satisfied that the scriptures are from God,
he sought with ardor, and he sought with a devotional
spirit, the whole will of God ; nor did he seek in vain.
He was familiar, from his childhood, with those "holy
scriptures," which made him " wise uuto salvation,
26
through faith in Jesus Christ." They bore him up
honorably in the path of life, and they sustained him in
that dread moment, when heart and flesh and life failed
him.
We made his sabbaths always delightful, by contriv-
ing to indulge him with such lessons and such engage-
ments as should associate the idea of pleasure with
those holy days. His opinion on the subject is preserved
in one of those essays, (to which a more distinct refer-
ence will be made hereafter) written at the age of
eleven, and entitled, " The pleasures and advantages
of a religious observance of the Sabbath." Time and
experience only strengthened the opinion of his earlier
days. His exercises at the close of the public services
were of peculiar importance to him ; and they produc-
ed an effect equally salutary on his understanding and
his heart. From the age of five, his mother was wont,
on the Sabbath evening, to take him, alone, upon her
knee, to cause him to repeat what he could remember
of the sermons which he had heard ; and to pray over
what he had recollected. He then said that hymn from
Dr Watts, " Lord, how delightful 'tis to see," &c. The
prospect of this evening engagement insured his atten-
tion at the place of worship ; and the success with which
he would, when so young, recapitulate almost every
leading sentiment he had heard, gratified both his dear
teacher and himself. These exercises he continued
almost till his beloved mother's death ; and never shall
1 forget the manner in which, when a boy of nearly fif-
teen, he would sit upon her knee and repeat his hymn,
while his arm was round her neck, and his head leaning
27
on her bosom, precisely as (hey had been when the
practice commenced in his childhood. Often have I
entered their room at the close of these exercises;
with rapture embraced thenj both, and enjoyed, in
our ardent, holy, mutual aifection, all but Heaven.
At these, above most other moments, we felt ourselves
truly united, and, as forming part of " the whole fami-
ly of heaven and earth." Religion alone could so sub-
limate our domestic bliss. And William ever looked
back on these scenes as the sweetest and most profita-
ble hours of his life.
It was also our custom ocoasionally to retire with
iifM — especially on his birth-days — for the purpose of
making him the almost entire subject of our thanksgiv-
ing and prayer ; imploring also for ourselves that di-
vine assistance which should enable tts to discharge
aright our important duties as parents. The effect of
these retirements was great and salutary. They ren-
dered us, if possible, dearer to each other, by bringing
us into more immediate contact with our common Fa-
ther in heaven, and with our everlasting home. They
raised within us a livelier sense of our obligations to
Him, and of our duties to each other. I used, at these
seasons, to enter into his circumstances and ours, with a
minuteness which would have been improper at our
family devotions ; and I have good reason to believe
that he derived lasting benefit from these engagements.
His aunt, scarcely less dear to each of us than his
mother had been, made up our trio, after the melan-
choly day that took from us " the desire of our eyes
with a stroke." When it pleased God to remove her,
28
in 1818, we daily met, till her interment, by the side of
her coffin ; and, hand in hand, knelt and wept, and
prayed together, as we had been accustomed to do in
other and happier circumstances. This practice of re-
tirement we three continued, at meeting and parting
in May and October, when William left us to prosecute
his studies at Glasgow, till the last solemn evening we
ever spent together. That night — never to be forgot-
ten by me — after the family devotions were closed,
and before we retired to rest, his beloved aunt, and he,
and I bowed together before the throne of grace — min-
gling our joys and sorrows for the last time. Oh ! had
we known, or even conjectured as, in the slightest de-
gree, probable, what events were to follow so soon, and
in such rapid succession, what had that meeting been !
Could / have borne it ? Could they 1 Thank God, the Fa-
ther of mercies, for our ignorance of futurity ! They are
gone, and thej' will not return unto me ; but 1 shall go
to them. Our next meeting, I confidently hope, will be
before the throne of God and the Lamb ; where all
tears shall be wiped away.
In a letter of exquisite tenderness, written under
circumstances almost more affecting than imagination
could create, is the following language, which perfect-
ly harmonizes with the tone of my own feelings. "On
Thursday last, it was your mournful lot to follow to the
grave all that was mortal of your son, your only son,
William. But did not the Saviour, whom you serve,
see you ! had he not compassion on you ! does not he
say unto you, weep not ! To the house appointed for all
living, WE are on our march. We must meet the ene-
29
my ourselves : and shall not the hope of victory make
us dry up our tears, for those who have overcome by the
testimony of Jesus ?— through the blood of the Lamb ?
I knew, I esteemed, I loved, your dear departed son.
I need not speak of his mental gifts — of his literary ac-
quirements—these will be justly appreciated by many
who reject, it may be, the faith in which he died. Of
this faith, my very dear friend, let us be followers.
Then we shall meet in that place, where the Lamb,
who is in the midst of the throne, shall feed us, and
lead us to living fountains of water ; and God him-
self shall wipe away these tears from our eyes. Then
you shall see your son, and I shall see my father, no
more to part for ever."— That meeting shall, indeed,
" turn all bright again."
William daily heard the scriptures read in the family,
and as constantly knelt with us at our family altar. But
we felt it extremely difficult to determine on the right
method of teaching him how to pray. Though no ene-
mies to forms of prayer in the abstract, we thought
that when children learn to pray by a form, they too
frequently pass through the task, without any exercise
of the understanding — without attention. At this time,
Mrs. D. met with a passage in Zollikofer's Sermons,
which instantly approved itself to our understandings ;
and on which we proceeded to act. It was this : — " Let
your child be taught, in general, its relation to God, its
dependance upon him, its obligations to him, Lc. &c. :
then let it form a prayer for itself. This will require
thought, recollection, views of the future," &c. His
mother would take him on her knee, and say, " Now,
30
my dear, think how good God has been to you to-dny, in
continuing to you your dear papa, and me, and aunt,
and other friends ; in giving you health, opportunity for
learning, &c. Think of what has been amiss with you.
Consider what you need, — his protection, his favor, and
his mercy." This would, at times, lead to a long con-
versation. At length he would kneel upon her lap, with
his face in her bosom, and offer his prayers. They
were at first, short, singularly simple, but always con-
ducted with the greatest seriousness. Exercise improv-
ed his talents ; and at the age of eight or nine, he could
and did pray with considerable variety, with facility,
and, occasionally, with pathos and eloquence. At the
age of twelve, and thenceforward, he had a remarkable
fluency in prayer, though it was never heard by any
human being except his aunt, his mother, and myself.
On no occasion could he be prevailed upon, even to his
last hour, to take a part beyond that of reading the
scriptures, or of reciting a hymn, in the devotional ex-
ercises of the family. It was, I believe, pure modesty ;
but it was carried to an almost criminal length. In my
occasional absence from home, he always devolved upon
his aunt the task of conducting family prayer, for which
he was himself so well qualified.
Wc were soon delighted, and made thankful to God,
for many striking indications of his piety. His mental
talents were developed in a surprising degree, at a very
early stage of life ; and he seems to have felt the pow-
er of religion from the time that he could first form a
notion of its nature. He was not a little indebted for
this to a young woman, frequently in the habit of work-
31
ing as a sempstress, at our house. She had, and stil!
has, beyond most, the power of engaging- the attention
and the affections of children. 'Many of his hours were
spent with her, while at work ; and she often attended
him to his bed. Religion, than which nothing more de-
lighted him, formed their principal subject of conversa-
tion ; and I shall never cease to reflect, with pleasure
and gratitude, on the circumstance, that that female —
whom he continued to love to his dying dny, and who
now mourns his loss, with a tenderness of feeling scarce-
ly inferior to my own — was so frequent an inmate of my
family. She had her reward in the kindness of my son
on earth — she will have it more completely in that day
and in that world, where the fruits of all such labours of
love shall be I'ully reaped.
Amidst those early indications of religion, which af-
forded us so much pleasure, was his decided, invariable
regard to truth. His parents had his entire confidence ;
and he felt no temptation to decieve us, as he was fully
aware that his happiness and his woes were ours. We
had his affections so strongly on our side, that, indepen-
dently of a nobler principle, he would have been res-
trained from falsehood by a regard (o our feelings. This
may seem to ascribe to him a delicacy, a correctness,
and a strength of feeling rather unnatural, or even im-
possible, at such an age : but it must be recollected,
that all his powers had an uncommonlj' early develop-
ment : and I pledge myself that such reasons, hovvf'ver
out of the ordinary course, did very soon operate tipnn
his mind. Vvhile we could calculate on this operation,
in all his intercourse with us, we had ever studied to
32
impress him with a sense of the divine presence and
inspection. This supplied him with a motive for speak-
ing truth in his intercourse with oihers as well as with
ourselves. And to no part of his character did we ever
direct a more constant or more earnest attention than to
this. When he was about three years old, an aged fe-
male, at whose house he was staying for a day, inform-
ed me that William had told a falsehood. As deception
of any kind was so perfectly foreign from all his habits,
1 expressed a doubt on the subject ; but she stated such
particulars as caused me to fear that he had transgress-
ed. I was thunderstruck and almost distracted; for the
information seemed to blast my most cherished hopes.
This might, I thought, be the commencement of a series
of evils for ever ruinous to our peace. I am not — I
never was — naturally of a temper to augur the worst ;
but the first grand moral delinquency, even at such an
age, must commit a breach on the noblest sensibilities
of the heart, which cannot but threaten a catastrophe
at which a parent may well shudder. Principiis obsta,
(resist the beginnings of evil,) had ever been our mot-
to ; and our child lived long enough to feel its impor-
tance, and to bless God that his parents had never depart-
ed from it. I am not sure that my agony, on hearing
of his death, was much more intense than that which I
then endured, from an apprehension of his guilt. In-
stantly, but without betraying my emotions, I asked him
what he had said. He answered, at once, in so artless
and unembarrassed a manner, as to convince me that he
was unconscious of falsehood, — that there must have
been some misconception in the case, and that my boy
33
was yet innocent. I pursued the inquiry, and in a few
moments found, to my inexpressible joy, that he was
perfectly correct in all he had stated.
This was the only time in his life in which I had even a
passing suspicion of his disregard to truth. On one me-
morable and most important occasion, in 1820, to which
I need not more explicitly refer, and which Glasgow
College, with its late and present Lord Rectors, will
not readily forget ; he received from a distinguished
professor a testimony to his integrity which his own
heart felt he merited, but which that gentleman con-
veyed in language and with a manner so peculiarly deli-
cate as to make upon the mind of my son a deeply fa-
vourable impression, which nothing but death could
erase. In a confidential interview with that professor,
he said, " Sir, I was not present on that occasion ; and
I can prove an alibi.'''' Mr laying his hand upon
his heart, said, " Mr D., you have removed from my
mind a heavy load : I was sure you could not have
been in that procession : but you need not, Sir, prove
an alibi ; for no gentleman in the University can re-
quire a proof be3'ond your own assertion.'' To that
learned professor, I am myself indebted for the politest
attentions and the most tender sympathy, at a moment
when my bleeding heart felt the need of all the support
that human or divine kindness could administer. And
I beg him to accept this public expression of my thanks.
34
HIS INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION.
I HAVE presented, in one view, the general history of his
religious character — though that will be found to run,
more or less, through the whole memoir — in order that
I might pursue in a more unembarrassed manner, his in-
tellectual progress. It may easily be imagined, that pa-
rents not altogether unacquainted with literature them-
selves ; feeling its importance as a copious source of in-
nocent pleasure, and as an instrument of usefulness in
the world ;* and marking, with rnpture, the early indi-
cations of superior talents in their child, would apply
themselves with assiduity, to the cultivation of his mind.
We were aware that more depended on the manner of
CONDUCTING HIS EDUCATION, than on our best inclinations.
We, therefore, read, and conversed, and thought much
upon the subject. While common observation, and our
moderate acquaintance with mental philosophy, furnish-
ed us with many useful suggestions, Dr. Knox, Miss
Hamilton, the Edgeworths, and others, who had writ-
ten on education, afforded us most essential benefit. To
* In one of his letters to me during his first session at Glas-
gow, he writes, " I am glad to hear that you do not neglect clas-
sical literature ; for, besides its intrinsic, it has an arbitrary val-
ue — so to speak. — It creates esteem ; esteem, influence ; influence
is power; and power will prove, I am convinced, in your hands,
the instrument of beneficence.''
35
the Edg-eworths, however, we were chiefly indebted;
as they had presented before the world the actual
course of instruction pursued, with such apparent suc-
cess, in their own family ; thus offering- a practical com-
ment on their theory. A few years since, my dear Wil-
liam and I read together the Institutes of Quintilian ;
and I was not a little pleased to find that we had pursu-