studied science and secular matters generally on Sunday: this, for long, I could not do, valuable as the Sunday time was to a hard week-day worker. They stayed at home from the services for that purpose, being satisfied with going to church

once.

Kidd died in my seventeenth year. I cannot verify the date of my revolt from paternal authority in going to his church; but I believe I must have been "under him" (as the phrase is) between two and three years-that is, from the age of fourteen. Emotional heat of the religious sort he certainly inspired in me, in spite of my inability to follow his prescriptions for entering the life of the regenerate.

My mother's church had an excellent congregational library, which, though mainly, was not exclusively, theological. It contained the writings of the well-known names in the evangelical world. Every Saturday evening, for a long time, I used to make a search for some book as Sunday reading. I seldom, I may say never, read any theological book through, and was delighted when I could get a volume of tracts, which changed and diversified the interest. I remember making a determined set at Owen on the Hebrews, having heard his name frequently quoted among the more spiritual divines. After toiling for several Sundays during

RELIGIOUS LITERATURE.

41

the hours between sermons that were disposable for reading, I had to give him up; the diffuseness and the iteration became unendurable. I still have a faint recollection of his handling. He harped upon that fine verse (as it sounded to me), "Leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on unto perfection"; but his transition from principles to perfection passed my discernment. The historical works of the congregational body were to be found in the library and were more attractive-Neal's History of the Puritans and Godwin's History of the Republic of England. I entered upon these a certain way, but failed to go through them. The first histories that I read completely were Robertson's; being charmed with his style and his vein of political reflection, which I could appreciate to some extent.

My greatest find in this library was a copy of Robert Hall's sermon on Modern Infidelity. The style took hold of me at once, and I well remember a Sunday afternoon walk with George Stewart, during which I read selections from the book aloud with all the declamatory force that I could command. I must have then perused it, or at least the great passages, many times. I did not have access to any other work of Hall's till my first year at college. He far transcended any other preacher that I had yet encountered, alike as a reasoner and

as an orator; and his style was something quite new, at a time when I was little versed in our English classics.

Even this library, with its wealth of evangelistic theology, failed to advance my aims at a solution of the great puzzle of the way of salvation.

CHAPTER II.

COLLEGE COURSE: OTHER STUDIES AND OCCUPATIONS

1836-1840.

Winter Session, 1836-37.

THE College work this session was Greek, under Dr. Brown (three hours a day), and Latin, under Dr. Melvin (three-quarters of an hour daily). Brown was a fair scholar, and not a bad teacher, but liable to fits of absent-mindedness. He had to begin us with the Greek Grammar from the alphabet; he then took us through a book of extracts, and, finally, a portion of Homer. We also had lectures from him on the History of Greece, which I appreciated more than most, making notes as well as I was able-a new exercise. I did the work pretty steadily, but without enthusiasm, and made a fair appearance in the prize list (fourth). I could have done better, if I had had more books at my command. Brown's readings of translations from the authors were very enjoyable.

Melvin was a very different style of man from

Brown; and the little I had had of him at the Grammar School did not spoil my relish (as with others) for his peculiar mode of discipline in the minutiæ of grammar. He gave us Livy and Horace, with exercises in translating and version making. The last I never excelled in. Yet, by carefully getting up what he had read with us, and by tact in translating, I got one of his prizes at the end. The session was a tolerable success, so far as Classics under the old-fashioned teaching and my small avidity could make it.

I still taught a Mathematical Class at the Mechanics' Institution, two evenings a week. I did little or nothing in the study of Mathematics; the Metaphysical furore having now set in. I got from the Marischal College Library, Stewart's biographies of Reid, Adam Smith, and Robertson; but, when I asked for Hume's Essays, the Librarian (our Greek professor) refused it. I ought to have been directed to a perusal of Reid by Stewart's Life; but, somehow, this did not happen. An incident at the close of the session is my best-remembered clue to the point of advancement I had reached in the subject.

It was a usage of Marischal College, to make every class in Arts pass through a public rivá voce examination, conducted by the professor. The students were called up in alphabetic order,