M'ALLUM Rev. Daniel M.D.

The Wesleyan Methodist Magazine - January 1829

Daniel M'Allum
The Wesleyan Magazine


It is a circumstance already known to many of the readers of this Magazine, that the subject of this Memoir was the son of an esteemed and venerable Minister in the Methodist Connexion, who still survives to mourn his loss. He was born at Inverness, on Sunday, June 22nd, 1794 ; his father being then stationed in that Circuit.

According to the testimony of those who were acquainted with him from his infancy, he exhibited, in eariy life, tokens of more than ordinary promise, both as to moral qualities and intellectual endowments. His parents regarded him, therefore, with singular affection; and, by a species of anticipation, which is by no means uncommon, and which few would be disposed to blame, fondly imagined to themselves the excellencies which were afterwards to mark his character, and the solace which he would afford to them when their hearts and flesh should begin to fail. These anticipations were afterwards partly fulfilled, and partly frustrated. His excellencies were what they expected them to be ; but he was not permitted to be their solace to the extent which they desired: His mother died before he had attained the age of manhood ; and his father, after having had the satisfaction of witnessing his rise, has had the affliction of seeing his sun go down while it was yet day.

Anxious to improve his natural endowments by as good an education as his circumstances would afford, and sparing no expense that seemed necessary for that purpose, his father sent him, as early as possible, to the best schools within his reach. At the age of ten he went to Kingswood School, where he remained three years ; and he subsequently spent a year, with great advantage, under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. Leach, of North-Shields. It is greatly to be regretted that the course of his education should have been broken and delayed by so many interruptions ; and especially that it should have been terminated at so early an age as that of fourteen years. To many young persons it may not be very important to extend their school-education beyond that period ; but such was his capacity for learning, and such his readiness of apprehen sion, that, had he been favoured with a longer and more systematic course of instruction, he would probably have been as conspicuous for his attainments in science and literature, as he was afterwards conspicuous for benevolence and virtue.

When about thirteen years of age, his health was very delicate ; and it seemed probable that his growth would be considerably stinted. But, by the blessing of God on the tender assiduities of his affectionate parents, the vigour of his constitution was in some degree renewed ; though the shock which it had now received was one from which he never perfectly recovered. Being intended for the medical profession, he became, on leaving school, a pupil or apprentice to a respectable Surgeon in Sunderland : a situation which very strongly recommended itself to his acceptance, not only by the advantages which it presented for the acquisition of the art to which his future life was at that time designed to be devoted, but also by the opportunity which it afforded him of enjoying the constant society of an elder brother, whom he dearly loved, and who was already a pupil in the same establishment.

In this situation, besides applying himself with a very commendable assiduity to the studies immediately connected with his profession, he manifested a considerable anxiety to enlarge his acquaintance with classical literature, and to improve himself in general knowledge ; diligently devoting to these objects all the leisure which his other occupa tions would allow. During this period he seems to have been the subject of ardent aspirations after literary fame. He had already exercised himself in composition to a considerable extent, in verse as well as prose ; and he now made some efforts to attract the public notice as a writer : but, not meeting with the encouragement which he desired, and being too independent to practise those arts of importunity which even writers of sterling merit have sometimes found it necessary to adopt before they could obtain an introduction to the public, he afterwards contented himself chiefly with writing for his own intellectual profit and amusement. In the last of a series of Essays, written in the year 1813, and entitled “The Observer,” he thus playfully describes his early disappointments as a writer, and the circumstances under which these Essays were composed : ” No author, ancient or modern, has had less encouragement than myself. Before the commencement of these Essays, I had made three attempts upon the public notice. The first was upon a great man who requested my company. I waited upon his levee, and had one audience; but, not finding me so supple as he expected, he never again condescended to any but a general notice of me ; notwithstanding the trouble which he knew I had been at on his account. On inquiry, I found neglect had generally been the reward of ability, when it was depressed by poverty, and yet asserted its independence. Although I did not flatter myself with false hopes, I was not as yet discouraged. My circumstances would not permit me to appear in print, (at my own charges,) and I was accordingly under the necessity of contributing to some periodical work, as the only way by which I could introduce myself to the public notice. I attempted this; but my communication was altogether neglected. I became more humble, but again tried what success I should have with a newspaper editor ; but this provincial great man, for some cause or other, took no notice of my essay. The present effort has not been more successful than the preceding. It has never procured me the notice of any, nor has a single copy ever been disposed of, – and for a very evident reason, because none has ever been printed. If I cannot appear in print, I can at least make a figure in manuscript ; and if the value of a work be estimated by its rarity, what a celebrity shall I not attain ! for, in all the world, there is but one single copy of my Essays! This mode of writing has, besides, many advantages. It begets no enemies, as it procures no praise. Success does not intoxicate, and failure does not depress. But, was there no latent wish for fame, no secret longing for notice, that prompted me to the undertaking ? I have asked my heart, and it tells me there was none. Hail, ye unsullied sheets, ye unoffending essays ; the labours of a thoughtful mind given to contemplation ! No eye hath ever seen you, no ear hath ever heard of you ; you have gained the applause of no panegyrist, nor incurred the censure of the critic. Never shall it be known that ye were ever composed ; ye shall bloom and die, like a rose of the wilderness, unnoticed and unknown. But these have not been without their utility, at least to myself :

‘ For many an hour have they beguil’d,
And cheated many a pain.’ ” *

In these Essays there is considerable vigour and originality of thought, enlivened by a vein of wit bordering on satire ; and there is an easy elegance of diction ; perhaps the greater because they were written without any view to publication. He also wrote, during this period, some poetical pieces which are by no means destitute of merit. Among others there is one ” To the Rev. William Atherton,” whom he gratefully addresses as ” the Patron of his earliest lays ; ” but whom, at the same time, he gently rebukes for not having sufficiently corrected his early and excessive longings after fame. The following are a few of his lines upon that subject :-

‘Twas lie that fann’d within my breast that flame
Which early panted for an empty name.
Would he had each aspiring thought repress’d,
And taught my soul in lowliness to rest ;

* Perhaps some of the circumstances mentioned in this extract may be considered as being fictitious : but, at all events, the reader will gather from it what was the particular turn of his opinions and feelings at the time it was written.

Check’d the bold flights my youthful fancy lov’d,
And tenderly my thirst of fame reprov’d !
Then had I ‘scap’d this restless fond desire,
Nor e’er essay’d to touch the living lyre ;
Hope disappointed then I ne’er had known,
Nor felt the pains which Genius counts her own.

In accordance with these sentiments, he wrote, soon afterwards, a ” Farewell to his Harp ; ” of which the following are the concluding stanzas : –

Farewell, my harp ! again no more
I’ll seek to wake thy varied note ;
Nor e’er again attempt to soar
Beyond the reach of sober thought.
Full oft transporting thoughts have glow’d
Within this ardent soul of mine ;
Such as from nobler bards have flow’d
And charm’d the soul in strains divine :
But in the birth my fancies die,
My raptur’d dreams dissolve in air ;
And, like the meteors of the sky,
They gleam, and sink – I know not where.
Yet will I joy, – for hastes the time
(Though now no minstrelsy be given)
When I shall breathe a happier clime,
And join the harmony of heaven.

Meanwhile, God had better things in store for him than any which his own ardent and aspiring fancy had at first anticipated ; and, as is partly evident from the last of the stanzas above quoted, was touching his heart with the silent, but effectual, operation of the Spirit of his grace, and was thus preparing him for that more honourable and more useful employment of his talents to which his life was afterwards to be devoted. He has left behind him no written record of the beginnings of his reli gious experience ; but the brother above alluded to, as his associate in apprenticeship, and who was intimately acquainted, during the time that they remained together, with his character and feelings, dates the first serious awakening of his heart and conscience towards the conclusion of that period. He had happily escaped, all along, the grosser follies and vices which are incident to youth, and was so scrupulously moral as to be, in his outward conduct, absolutely blameless. But although he had, in this respect, the fear of God before his eyes, and was, moreover, remarkably diligent and punctual in his attendance on the means of grace, he did not, until near the close of his apprenticeship, appear to have been made the subject of any very deep or powerful conviction of sin; and, consequently, up to that time, he had not fled for refuge, to lay hold upon the sinner’s only hope. But now, under the discoveries which were made to him of the evil of his heart, and the convictions with which he was impressed respecting the necessity of his obtaining the grace of pardon and regeneration, he became seriously affected ; and believing that a formal and practical communion with the church of Christ would greatly assist him in fleeing from the wrath to come, and in working out his own salvation, he became a member of the Methodist Society. It was not, however, until some considerable time after these convictions first began to operate, that he obtained the knowledge of salvation by the remission of sins. From causes which are not distinctly known, but which it is easy to imagine, the gracious feelings which had been excited in his mind were, in the course of a few months, so far weakened, that he seemed to have relapsed into his former state of spi ritual coldness and indifference. But, happily, these feelings were again revived, and laid such hold upon him, that they allowed him no rest in spirit, until he had obtained a clear and satisfactory sense of the divine forgiveness. The following circumstance was often mentioned by him, as having served, in an eminent degree, to excite and to encourage him. During his residence at Aberdeen, to which place he went at the close of his apprenticeship, for the purpose of attending the Lectures at the College, he was in the habit of meeting a number of young persons early on Sabbath mornings, for the purpose of communicating to them religious instruction, and of uniting with them in social prayer : an engagement which appears to have proved a great blessing to himself, at the same time that it promoted the spiritual profit of those with whom he was thus accustomed to associate. On one of these occasions, a member of his little flock having obtained, whilst he was praying for him, a sense of pardon, he became so convinced of the importance, and so persuaded of the possibility, of obtaining the same blessing for himself, that he began, from that time, to seek it with an importunity and diligence to which he had previously been a stranger; and soon after, while on his passage by sea to London, he obtained a clear assurance that his sins were blotted out; and that, ” being justified by faith,” he had ” peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Having thus been made experimentally a partaker of ” the heavenly gift,” he was the better prepared to exhort others to ” taste and see that the Lord is gracious.” He had already, in compliance with the earnest solicitation of his friends, spoken a few times in public as an Exhorter, to the satisfaction and edification of those who heard him. In this, it is but right to say, there appears to have been no small irregularity, as well as in his having been permitted to be, in some sort, the Leader of the Class ; as the rules and usages of our Connexion do not allow any person to bear the office of a Leader, or Preacher, who has not obtained the grace of justification, and the direct witness of the Spirit. He was not, however, before he obtained this blessing in the manner above stated, permitted to preach, but was merely employed as an occasional Exhorter. This restriction was very properly imposed upon him by his venerable father; who, though now fully persuaded that his son would hereafter be employed, partially at least, in the work of the ministry, was anxious that, ere he entered on that work, he should receive that baptism of the Spirit which was needful to qualify him for it, and should himself enjoy the salvation which it would be his business to proclaim to others. Confining himself, therefore, within the limits which had been prescribed to him, he did not, for some time after his arrival in London, venture to do more than deliver occasionally a short exhortation. But being strongly urged to preach, he consented, after much hesitation, to make a trial. This was so satisfactory to those who heard him, that he afterwards, during his stay in London, preached several times; and, on his return to Scotland, was admitted as a Local Preacher in the Glasgow Circuit, and was appointed, about the same time, to the office of a Class- Leader.

In the mean time, he continued to pursue, with unabated assiduity, the studies connected with the profession for which he was at first in tended ; and having completed the usual course of attendance at the Lectures in Aberdeen, London, and Glasgow, he was admitted at the University of the latter place to the degree of Doctor of Medicine ; and immediately commenced practice in that city as a Physician. What might have been his success in the profession, had it been the will of God that he should persevere in it, it is useless to conjecture ; but during the short time that he remained in Glasgow, after his commence ment, his prospects were very fair and promising. In an entry which appears in his ” Diary,” under the date of July 26th, 1817, he says, ” My temporal wants have been abundantly supplied ; and I have been pretty well employed in my business.” With those who were acquainted with him, there can be little doubt but that the gracefulness of his address, and the general excellence of his character, to say nothing of his skill in medicine, would have made his way, as a Physician, plain and prosperous before him. But although his prospects of temporal com fort, connected with a remembrance of the great expense which had been bestowed on his professional education, presented very powerful reasons to induce him to continue in the course he had begun ; yet he was far from being satisfied to do so, as he found it impossible to divest himself of the conviction, that God was now calling him to a different employment. He was already very regularly and frequently employed as a Local Preacher ; but the service of the sanctuary was laid upon his conscience, as one to which he ought to be entirely devoted. After having made it, therefore, a subject of much meditation and prayer, he became a candidate for admission into the Methodist Connexion as an Itinerant Preacher ; and having been proposed and examined in the usual form, obtained the unanimous recommendation of the Glasgow Quarterly and District Meetings ; and, at the ensuing Conference, (1817,) was taken out into the work. At that Conference it had been agreed, or understood, that, on account of the pecuniary difficulties which at that time embarrassed the Connexion, no additional Preachers should be employed in the home work ; but in his case, out of respect to his aged father’s long standing in the ministry, and in consideration of his own excellent character and promising talents, an exception was per mitted ; and he was accordingly appointed, with his father, to Dunbar and Haddington.

His entrance on this Circuit is thus noted in his Diary : –

” Aug. 24th.- I have now arrived at Haddington, where I must labour for a season. The parting with my friends in Glasgow, and the congregation, when I preached my last discourse to them, on, ‘ Who is sufficient for these things?’ I shall not soon forget. Blessed be God for the comfort I enjoyed while among them.”

He then adds, in allusion to some exquisitely painful circumstances, which were eminently honourable to his religious character, but which cannot now be related, ” I think the bitterness of death is past. Ah! fond, seducing world, hast thou not still some power over me? I have done with thee. I feel like one who has just taken the vows which can never be recalled.”

In this Circuit, and especially in the town of Haddington, his public ministry excited a very unusual degree of interest, as will appear from the following testimony by the Rev. Joseph E. Beaumont, who succeeded him in that Circuit; and who had, therefore, ample opportunity of gain ing information on the subject : –

” Perhaps,” says Mr. Beaumont, ” no Minister in Haddington, of any denomination, in modern times, ever excited so much general interest as Dr. M’Allum ; except that very eminent and holy man, the Rev. John Brown, author of many valuable works in divinity ; by which, though ‘ dead, he yet speaketh,’ to the edification of thousands. Dr. M’Allum’s ministry was attended by persons belonging to many of the first families in the neighbourhood ; and was listened to, weekly, by several distinguished members of the Established Church, and of the Dissenting congregations in the town, whose attendance, in the majority of instances, was, nevertheless, limited to the Sabbath evening and Mon day services ; at which time the sanctuaries of their own communities were generally closed. For whatever scruples, conscientious or other wise, were entertained, as to the propriety of Presbyterians listening to any other ministry than that of their own order, they were in many in stances superseded by the powerful attractions of the Doctor’s ministry and character ; and persons thus situated generally agreed to wink at each other’s deviation from ancient sentiment and usage, in the instance of so eminent a Preacher. On Monday evenings, it was his custom to lecture on the historical parts of the Old Testament, especially on its characters. This plan, which he pursued during the three successive years of his continuance in Haddington, secured him large congrega tions. And it was in this part of his public labour that his power of description, and his extensive knowledge of persons and things, had an ap propriate and useful scope. It was in this course of lectures that he most interested and engaged, and perhaps benefited, the young and the gay ; that he rebuked certain fashionable vices and errors ; awakened many a compunctious feeling in the guilty breast; made folly look contemptible, vice loathsome, and virtue lovely ; and excited in the bosoms of many, emotions and resolves in favour of the religion of the heart, to which they had previously been strangers, and which, it is believed, have not yet subsided. Indeed, I have no hesitation in stating it as my opinion, (and I write under consideration, and with knowledge of this part of my subject,) that, with perhaps one exception, Dr. M’Allum’s popularity in Haddington is without a parallel in the experience of any Preacher now in our Connexion, in any place in Britain. And his intercourse in society corresponded with his eminence in the pulpit ; for, by his distin guished urbanity, and graceful elegance of manners, he had access to the first families in the county town of East-Lothian, and was actually on visiting terms in almost every house of name and respectability with which a Minister of religion could consistently have fellowship. His company was courted in the best society in the place ; in short, his memory there can never die while the present generation lives.”

In the midst of all this popularity he’ was exposed to no inconsiderable danger of falling into a vain and worldly spirit. But it is pleasing to discover from the Diary, in which he seems to have made an unreserved entry of his feelings, that he still maintained the life and power of god liness; and that he kept steadily in view the great object of his high and holy calling. The following extracts may be taken as satisfactory evidence on this point : –

” Oct. 1st, 1817. – I have now had a short trial of my work in the ministry, – have preached thirty times, and walked seventy-two miles; besides visiting the Society, and meeting Classes. My private studies have necessarily been proportioned. That God who hath kept and sus tained me six weeks, is able and willing to keep and sustain me for sixty years, should I live so long. Meantime, how is it with my bosom foe? To speak plainly, he seemed dead when I was most cast down, and most anxious ; but ‘ the old man ‘ is not yet dead. Help me, Lord, to look to thee !

“Nov. 11th. – Two souls were converted last Sabbath: one in the morning, while I expounded the parable of the labourers in the vineyard ; another in the afternoon, when treating on the work of faith, the labour of love, and the patience of hope. Non Nobis, Domine.

” Feb. 1st. 1818. – I have discovered that there are some rudenesses in my conversation, such as a peremptory contradiction of what I ap prehend to be untrue. Lord, save me from this, lest 1 should disgrace my Christian profession ! But what discovery can I make that does not, or should not, humble me in the dust ! I have had five tolerably pro fitable Sabbaths, and have been particularly assisted this day. O how wonderful is this ; for my mind was grievously tried and exercised last night! Blessed be God for this day. – N. B. 1. I have been too fre quently at great men’s tables. 2. Too seldom and. far too short a time in my closet. 3. I have been too idle. Last Sabbath, in the afternoon, I went in great confidence to the pulpit, having prepared a very laboured discourse ; but God left me, in a measure, to myself ; and O, how confused and confusing was my discourse ! Let this teach me a profitable lesson. Lord, lift up upon me the light of thy countenance ! A heavenly gale reached me this day when reading of Mr. Fletcher’s death.

” April 18th. – My personal comfort has been considerable; but has my soul prospered as it might have done? Almost every Sunday since Feb. 20th, I have been engaged in explaining our leading doctrines ; the witness of the Spirit, the progress of grace, its harmony with works, and entire sanctification. Some little offence has been taken, but not much. In my Lectures I have almost reached the end of Genesis. This is Saturday night, and conveys to my mind the recollection of that time which will terminate our weeks below, and when the balance of our accounts shall be struck.

” May 16th.- I have just returned from the District-Meeting held at Edinburgh. What have I gained by going ? 1. A veneration for the body with which I am connected. Their sacrifices of their own in terests are written in heaven. 2. An increasing opinion of their talents, and a diminished opinion of my own. 3. I have learned that, if a man would be a worthy Methodist Preacher, he must moderate his expect ations of temporal recompense. 4. I have, in a measure, seen, that I am only on the threshold of religion. Lord, save me ! Heretofore I have laboured tod exclusively from a sense of duty. God grant that I may do this henceforward more from a conviction of my privilege ! ” July 11th. – On looking back for a year, I find occasion of sorrow and thankfulness. 1. Of sorrow, because I am far behind almost every Christian I meet with, – so little good has been done by my means, – vanity, self, rudeness, jealousy, often distress me, – inconsistency of con duct. 2. Of thankfulness, – that I am somewhat more consistent than heretofore, – converse more on the things of God with worldly people, – less the subject, or the prey, of temptation, – some good has been done among the hearers and members. I have written this year one hundred and four sermons.

” Nov. 23d. – 0 that God would revive his work in my soul ! May his glory be my end and aim ! Yesterday was the Sacrament with us in Haddington, and I assisted for the first time in the administration. It was a good day. O may I be saved from spiritual idolatry, from pride, trifling, idleness, affectation, and worldly-mindedness ! Amen and amen.

” Jan. 4th, 1819. – I discover that I am too much given to idleness. Ten years ago my reading was very narrow, very trifling, and very de sultory. In two or three years it was more various, but equally de sultory. After a while it was more select, but too rapid and irregular. During my curriculum it was not sufficiently exclusive. This year-and- half more steady, but still far from being sufficiently intense. O that I might be diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord ! .

” March 28th. – For a fortnight I have seriously been thinking of the declension of our congregations here : but still, three have sought ad- . mittance into the Society, and some are beginning to open their mouth in prayer. O my soul ! wouldest thou not rather that souls were bene fited than that a multitude were pleased ? Wouldest thou not sacrifice popularity to usefulness ? Wo to that man who would not !

” June 23d.- I have lived twenty-five years in this evil world : but, alas ! to how little purpose ! I have, in, some measure, been cast down yesterday and to-day, with a sense of my sinfulness. Nothing can be too severe for me ; but O, in wrath remember mercy ‘.

” Aug. 15th. – My application to the Conference (to be relieved from the law which prohibits the marriage of probationers) has been successful, and in a little time I expect to take one of the most solemn steps imaginable. My mind is much and deeply occupied with what lies before me. As it respects temporal things, my desire is, to live honestly in the sight of all men ; and my prayer is, that which Agur offered up. As it regards heavenly things, my wish is expressed in the following lines :

‘ If so poor a worm as I
May to thy great glory live,
All my actions sanctify,
All my words and thoughts receive !’

Many trials lie before me in the womb of Providence, to which I am as yet a stranger, – sickness, anxiety, apprehension, and death ; but I can never meet with any thing that is not better than my deserts.

“Jan. 6th, 1820. – The God of my life has brought me to the com mencement of another year, and I ought to be filled with thankfulness that goodness and mercy have followed me all my way hitherto. I had a season lately of much spiritual joy, followed by one of great temptation ; and now I feel that coldness is too apt to steal over me. I mourn a want of zeal, of humility, meekness, and love.

” May 7th. – Last week I had some touches of the rod. I thank God, myself and my dear partner are both proving what David meant when he said, ‘ Thy rod doth comfort me.’ We wish to set out anew for heaven. To-day I have been wonderfully strengthened to blow the Gospel trumpet. Lord, let Israel hear, and come together unto thee !”

From these extracts it will be seen that, while generally honoured and caressed by others, he was making it his habitual and diligent endeavour to be jealous over himself with a very godly jealousy ; and that he was thus saved, in a great measure, from falling into the temptation of thinking of himself more highly than he ought. Notwithstanding the outward honour which his hearers put upon his ministry, he was very far from being satisfied, because comparatively few of them appeared to be so affected by his instrumentality as to be thereby converted to God. ” If,” says Mr. Beaumont, ” the breath of popular applause could have sa tisfied, he might have been satisfied: but he sought to save them that heard him ; and of any results of his labour which left them short of this important object, he made but little account. Travailing in birth for his hearers, that Christ might be formed in them, he had continual sorrow and heaviness of heart, when he found that this, the main end of his ministry, was but partially accomplished. In an interview which I had with him in his last illness, during our conversation respecting Haddington, he admitted there was prodigious excitement, deep and wide impression, great expectation, and much lovely blossom. • But,’ he added with much distressing emotion, ‘ there were no conversions ; and it nearly broke my heart ! ‘ That is, they were so few, compared with the wide-spread, and apparently deep-struck interest, and rioh pro mise created by his ministry, that he felt as if his labours there had been all but a total failure- Doubtless, however, he was of great use ; and his labours were the means of much good ; much more than it was possible, or perhaps proper, for him to know ; and certainly far more than his modesty and self-humiliation would have suffered him, had he known it, to acknowledge.”

The following is his farewell notice of this his first, and, in many re spects, most interesting station : –

” August 19th. – After a residence of three years at Haddington, my engagements are now closed. I rejoice to think that the charge of my flock has passed into other hands, who, I hope and trust, will be useful to them. I have laboured for their good ; but neither to the extent, nor with the perseverance, zeal, and love, with which I might have done. To regret the past is in itself an idle task ; and can only be productive of good, as it leads to repentance and reformation. God of my mercies, grant me the former, and urge me to the latter of these ! “

(To be concluded in our next.)

Rev. Daniel M’Allum M.D. – The Wesleyan Methodist Magazine – Febrary 1829

Dr. M’Allum’s next appointment was to Edinburgh; but, being the third Preacher on that station, his residence was in Dalkeith. His labours were, therefore, limited chiefly to the latter place, as he had to preach in Edinburgh only one Sunday out of three, and on the week day evenings not at all. He was, besides, very frequently prevented from going to Edinburgh by the situation of his amiable partner, whose increasing illness could not fail to ensure, as it demanded, his tenderest attention; and who continued gradually to languish until April the 15th, when she died in the faith and hope of the Gospel. In consequence of these circumstances, though his ministry in Edinburgh was both popular and useful, he had no opportunity of exciting that general attention which had so remarkably characterized his ministry at Haddington. But in Dalkeith, where he resided, and where he exercised his minis trations regularly every week, his talents and virtues exerted their appropriate influence, and were instrumental in producing the best effects. Here the same kind of interest was excited, and among the same classes of society, as in Haddington ; and his labours were made a special blessing to persons belonging to other religious denominations, as well as to the members of our own Society. Some instances of this might be specified here, but it is unnecessary. The record of his labour is on high ; and part of its fruit has already been gathered into the celes tial garner.

The domestic affliction to which allusion has been made, was to him a source of continual anxiety, and of the most exquisite mental suffering. The tenderness of his feelings on this subject is very affectingly displayed in the scrupulous minuteness with which he has recorded the general progress, and every apparent turn, of the affliction, and in the beautifully soft and melancholy touches in which he has depicted the sorrows of his heart. The following extracts will afford a specimen of the manner in which his entries on this subject were generally made, and of the anxiety which he felt, in the midst of his affliction, to keep himself in the know ledge and love of God : –

” Sept. 3d, 1820.- This is the day of the Lord. The air is filled with light and heat, and hardly a sound sets it in motion. The fields stand thick with shocks of corn, and the country perspective is exquisitely beautiful. When I look into the street, only an occasional passenger is seen to step silently along, like an individual observed to pass hurriedly and impressed with awe, from within, and again into, the precincts of a court. Blessed are the courts of thy house ! I am surrounded with spi ritual privileges and temporal blessings ; but there is a worm at the root of every earthly gourd of protection and shade. My Ann is still on a bed of affliction, and her weakness is great. That, to all appearance, it is partially removed, is an occasion of gratitude. Lord, * if it be possible, let this cup pass from me ! ‘

‘” Nov. 17th. – In a week from this date, four months will have elapsed since it pleased God to lay his hand on the wife of my youth; and, alas! how very little have I profited by this long-continued affliction ! Death has been the frequent subject of my thoughts, but that has not (as it should have done) attached me to Christ. I have frequently dwelt upon the prospect that my Ann, the light of my eyes, may be taken from me ; hut even that does not always affect me as it ought ; and when it wrings tears of agony from me, does not always lead me to Christ. What a wonder is it, thou hast not, long since, cast me into hell ! How has it been with Ann ? She has not been able to read, and only now and then to hear reading. Yesterday morning, when telling me how her mind had been impressed by the remembrance of an encouraging passage of Scripture, her lip quivered, the tear stood in her eye ; and, with greatly enfeebled powers of utterance, she went on to speak of her past unfaith fulness to God. God of mercy ! wilt thou take away ?

” March 13th, 1821. – I have nothing that is good to record of myself, and not much that is hopeful of my dearer self ; but there is One in whose infinite merits we may both be blessedly interested. Lately, in thinking how unprofitable I had been, both in my ministry to the souls of others, and to my own, I have been in a measure cast down, and have questioned my call to the pastoral office. It is a crying inconsistency, that I should have made sacrifices to unite myself to what I deem a spi ritual priesthood, and, after all, should be so little zealous, and so un- watchful : and it is affecting, in these circumstances, that I am so little useful. I know these are not reasons for deserting my work ; but for redoubled diligence, and prayer, in the discharge of it. My dear Ann, in so far as her feeble frame will allow her, waits upon God. O for that prayer of faith by which the sick are raised up !

” April 2d. – My beloved partner is, I think, greatly worse. She now never breathes with perfect ease ; her pulse is high ; she labours ance it is impossible she should recover, and unlikely that she should long survive. It would seem that she anticipates her change. But O, what a prospect have I before me ! We have only been united eighteen months ; and during the greater part of that time she has languished on a bed of pain, under hopeless disease ; but I have greatly loved her, and her love has greatly exceeded the ordinary measure of human affection. But we must part, though the life of each was bound up in the life of the other. Sin, what hast thou done ! What a state is mine ! to wait in awful suspense the moment that is to bereave me of my most intimate friend ! If I survive, it will be to new sufferings ; to loneliness, and all the anguish of bereavement. While I write, she is beside me, and speaks with the tone of health. She will soon be removed ; and I shall hear that voice no more, till it is enriched with the accents of angels. But shall I hear her then ? O that I may ! “

In the course of a few days, the fears expressed in the preceding para graph were realized ; and the object of his affection was no more. Under this bereavement, his mind was deeply humbled ; but still he was sus tained and comforted, though it was long ere he fully recovered his former tone of cheerfulness. In common with many other eminently wise and holy men, he seems to have entertained a belief in the commu nion of departed spirits; and on one occasion he thought it was, in his own case, actually realized. “This afternoon,” says he, under the date of May 2d, 1821, ” while engaged in reading Mrs. Fletcher’s Life, page 275, where she is described as having said to her husband in a dream, ‘ My dear, do you visit me sometimes ? ‘ and he answered, ‘ Many times a day,’ I felt a strange but delightful consciousness, that the angel- spirit of my dear, dear Ann was present with me. My emotions were delightful. Tears of delight flowed down my cheeks; and, at length, I was enabled to say, ‘ Thank God for this also ;’ and my heart rose in gratitude to Him.”

For some time after the date above mentioned, excepting some interest ing gleanings of circumstances connected with his late wife’s aflliction and departure, his diary contains comparatively few remarks. Indeed, for some months after that event took place, a part of the time which he had formerly been accustomed to devote to his diary, seems to have been given to another book, in which he wrote all that had been in his heart, in reference to his late amiable partner, in a style of peculiar elegance and tenderness ; but to which, in consequence of a restriction imposed by the writer when on his death-bed, nothing more than this general allu sion can here be made. This occupation of his leisure moments may be considered by some persons to have been a weakness: but, if so, it was not an unpardonable one ; nor was it altogether barren of spiritual profit. To use an expression of his own, his mind was often ” relieved by dis-charging its grief and uneasiness on paper ;” and the review which he ¦was led to take of a portion of his life which had been so deeply interest ing to him, was the occasion of his being excited to higher sentiments of gratitude to God ; and to a more diligent attention to his own personal salvation, and the important duties of his holy calling.

Towards the close of his second year in the Edinburgh Circuit, (that is, in June, 1822,) in obedience to the direction of the preceding Con ference, he took an excursion to the Shetland Islands, for the purpose of ascertaining, by personal examination and inquiry, whether, or not, a Missionary might be usefully and advantageously employed there. Of this excursion he has left a very full and interesting journal, from which he drew up an abstract, as a report to the ensuing Conference. In this report he expressed it as his full persuasion, ” that, under all the circum stances of the case, the Conference would see it good to send a suitable person to itinerate in those islands.” Two Preachers were accordingly appointed, and a great and effectual door was opened by their means, by which the word of the Lord has had free course, and still continues to run and to be glorified.

Having declined the unanimous and cordial invitation of the Edinburgh Quarterly Meeting to continue a third year, he was appointed to North- Shields. Here his mind seems to have fully recovered its former tone. Time, and the grace of God, had healed the stroke of his wound, and he sang of mercy as well as of judgment. December 24th, 1822, being a few months after his entrance on that Circuit, he writes as follows: – ” At the close of the year, it is proper to dwell on the events of it, and to inquire how matters stand between God and my soul. It would argue more ingratitude than humility, if I were not to acknowledge that this last quarter has been one of considerable spiritual profit ; and though I am yet far beneath the average of sincere Christians, – much farther beneath eminent ones,- yet I have had more spiritual-mindedness and established peace, than has formerly been the case. I have looked into my heart, and I see many marks of inbred corruption yet to be effaced, and many marks of the Saviour’s work yet to be deepened. In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing ; for my sufficiency to think a right thought is of God. But what cannot God do ? Again and again have I been enabled to say,

‘ I the chief of sinners am,
But Jesus died for me.’

I must seek for more divine grace, that I be not moved to impatience, or severity of speech : mine ought to be sound speech, such as cannot be blamed. A stream of mercy hath followed me throughout all this year, like the waters from the smitten rock ; ‘ and that rock was Christ.’ I have, as yet, had no return of that indisposition under which I laboured in the spring. Let my lips and my heart praise Thee for this thy good ness to thy dust and ashes ! It hath appeared, and more especially since I left the place, that even in Dalkeith my labours were not ia vain, as the correspondence of Mr. and Mrs. , and that of Mrs. , goes to prove. I trust that, in this place and neighbourhood, much good will be done. Our places of worship are crowded with attentive audiences. O that many an arrow may be lodged in many a heart!”

In the spring of 1823, he was united in marriage to the eldest daughter of the late Dr. Taft; a union respecting which the writer of this Memoir believes it may be truly said, it was as happy as the former. This renewal of his earthly comforts appears to have been connected with a correspondent increase of spiritual peace and heavenly- mindedness, though his cup was by no means an unmingled one.

Aug. 2d, he writes, “A fortnight or three weeks ago Mary became indisposed, and my mind was severely exercised : the iron entered into my soul. I was enabled to look up to God through Christ ; and 1 shall not soon forget the exceeding goodness of my God to me on this occasion. ‘ Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits ! ‘ I seemed to have some near glimpses of the state of those who are entirely sanc tified. My mind dwelt much on the subject, and on the benefit of sanctified affliction. My discourses were owned of God, and believers were comforted and edified together.”

Having remained in North-Shields two years, he was appointed at the Conference of 1824 to the York Circuit. This was the last scene of his earthly labour, his next removal being from earth to heaven. During bis continuance in this Circuit, excepting the circumstances con nected with his death, there was little in his history that seems particu larly deserving of attention. Only, it may be observed in general, that his ministry was both popular and useful ; and that, wherever he was known, he was esteemed : not only for his talents as a public speaker, but also for the charms of his conversation, and the virtues of his cha racter. There is reason to believe that he continued, at the same time, to grow in personal piety ; and that he was thus becoming more fully meet to be a partaker of the heavenly inheritance. But, during the third year of his continuance in that Circuit, his health, which had hitherto been tolerably well maintained, began visibly to decline. It has already been observed that, when about hirteen years of age, his constitution received considerable injury, and the effect of this injury was now becoming alarmingly apparent ; especially in the increased feebleness of his digestive powers. Under these circumstances he was no longer adequate even to the regular labour of the Circuit ; and still less was he adequate to the toil of those additional engagements which he was called upon to undertake. Very early in the winter of 1826-7, and before there was any serious apprehension in the minds of his friends that he would be under the necessity of desisting from his labour, he was heard to remark, that he had gone beyond his strength ; and that he feared he should be obliged, at the ensuing Conference, to so licit the indulgence of an easier Circuit. Still, until compelled to do so by absolute necessity, he was unwilling to allow himself any relax ation of his labour.

In January, 1827, in compliance with repeated and very urgent solicitations, he paid a visit to Nottingham. His friends in York endea voured to dissuade him from attempting the journey, as the weather was excessively cold, and there was deep snow upon the ground; but, on the whole, he thought it his duty to go. Unhappily, having engaged to preach at Tadcaster on his return, and having been unable to obtain a place in any of the day-coaches, he travelled, fur the purpose of ful filling that engagement, by one of the night-coaches as an outside pas senger. The consequence of this exposure was, that he returned home with a severe cold, and was much enfeebled.

The day on which he returned to York was a very tempestuous one ; and he was, therefore, very strongly urged by one who saw the weak ness of his state, not to expose himself to farther injury by going that day to one of the country places in the Circuit where he was expected to preach. But though it was engaged that one of his colleagues would supply his place, he could not be persuaded to accept the offer, as he had not preached at the place in question for some time ; and he hoped that he might not, perhaps, sustain much injury by going. The weather, however, was much worse than he had anticipated, and, having to ride several miles through the rain, he very much increased his ipdisposition. He was afterwards repeatedly exposed to some of the severest storms that occurred throughout the winter ; and the result of all was, that on February 4th, after having preached twice with considerable difficulty, he was obliged to desist at once and altogether from his labour.

Of the state of his mind during the long and tedious illness which ensued, the report given by those who constantly attended him, and by others who were his frequent visiters, is very satisfactory. His general state was one of calmness and peace; but, occasionally, he felt in so remarkable a manner the gracious presence of his God, that, as he said, he was almost constrained to cry out, ” Lord, stay thy hand, lest the clay tabernacle break !” As his bodily strength declined, so did his inward tranquillity more and more abound. Patience had her perfect work. Not a murmur at any time escaped his lips, nor did he seem to harbour a repining thought. The only thing respecting which he was accustomed to express any particular anxiety was, that he should be disabled from attending to his duties as an Itinerant Preacher. But even to this, as it was the Lord’s doing, he was at last cheerfully re signed. His thankfulness for every little attention that was paid him was very remarkable, as well as his cheerful acquiescence in the means employed for his recovery.

In compliance with the suggestion of his medical advisers, he was taken, in the latter end of May, to Croft, near Darlington. For a few days after he arrived there, the change of air seemed to be very beneficial ; but afterwards he began to decline with alarming rapidity. After remaining there about a month, no benefit appearing likely to result from his longer continuance, he was removed to the house of his brother at Carville, near Newcastle-upon-Tyne. The journey having been accomplished with great difficulty, it was evident that he was near his end, and all hope of his recovery was entirely abandoned.

Two or three days before his death, when it was communicated to him, that, probably, he had only a few days to live, he appeared for a moment to be startled by this unexpected information ; but very soon recovering himself, he said, ” Well, God cannot err. All that he does is right ; and he has said, ‘ Because I live, ye shall live also.’ I shall one day see my Redeemer for myself.”

On the last Sabbath in his life, his wife having made some observa tions respecting that heavenly felicity which was now before him, lie exclaimed, with great emphasis and sweetness, –

” There is my house, and portion fair ;
My treasure and my heart are there,
And my abiding home !”

He slept during a great part of that day ; but, when awake, his mind was wonderfully tranquil. To his brother, he remarked, that he be lieved his enjoyment of so great and constant a peace was partly in, answer to the many prayers which the people of God were presenting on his behalf. Afterwards, to a Local Preacher, who had been praying with him, he said, ” My labours are done; but I build nothing on them. I build only on the merits of my Saviour. I feel that,

‘ I the chief of sinners am ;
But Jesus died for me.’ “

During the following night he slept remarkably well. About seven in the morning he became much weaker, and at half-past nine his pulse ceased to beat. It may be truly said of him, that ” he fell asleep in Jesus ; ” for there was neither struggle nor convulsion ; but all without, like all within, was stillness and peace. This event took place, July 2d, 1827.

The following spirited and eloquent sketch of his character has been kindly furnished by the Rev. Joseph E. Beaumont, who has already been mentioned as having been his colleague in the Edinburgh Circuit. ” I was,” says Mr. B., ” honoured with his friendship ; and sometimes my dwelling was distinguished by his visits. And for agreeableness in private and social life I never met his like ; I never saw his equal. He possessed, in a high degree, and in equal proportions, the desire and the art of pleasing. The music of his voice, the smile of his face, the kind ness of his heart, and the intelligence and variet}- of his communica tions, rendered his society pre-eminently acceptable and delightful. ‘ He had a soul for friendship formed, and sweet and grateful was its fellowship.’ The memory of it to me is the mournful reminiscence of joys that are fled. His literary and professional education, – his close observation of, and practical acquaintance with, life and manners, men and things, – his ample fund of instructive and stirring anecdote, – his almost unequalled fluency, and graceful elocution, – his entire and con stant self-possession, – bis uniform and overflowing sweetness and bene volence of disposition, – together with a very gentlemanly and easy address, gave to his companionship a charm which every one that was indulged with it felt and acknowledged. As a Preacher he was much admired; being free from every offensive or disagreeable property or circumstance, habitual or occasional ; and, in manner, soft, elegant, and impressive. His voice, which was not so remarkable for its power and compass, as for its melody and distinctness, fell gratefully upon the ear; and, being mastered with absolute power, and modulated with delicate skill, its intonations never became harsh. He was ‘ as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well upon an in strument.’ Indeed he wai one of those few Preachers, of whom, by a rare combination of the most agreeable qualities, and the most happy proportions of style, and manner, and spirit, it may be said, with almost perfect truth, that they please everybody. And yet I do not conceive that Dr. M’Allum’s eloquence was of the first and highest order. His oratory was the sweet, even flow of a beautiful river ; never the swell of the flood, or the bound of the torrent. His preaching was not so profound as it was agreeable ; not so argumentative as it was persuasive. He was more Apollos than Paul ; more Barnabas than Peter; a son of consolation, rather than a son of thunder. His speech was not the mighty, sweeping rain; but a gentle, soft, insinuating dew. In his public discourse there was often a delightful rich ness and range of language; and, when dealing with some subjects, his acquaintance with science and philosophy contributed much to his advantage. On this, as on other accounts, his ministry was singularly acceptable to persons of taste and education, and uncommonly attrac tive to young and inquiring minds.”

A few days after his decease, a notice of his character and talents as a Preacher appeared in a letter from an anonymous correspondent, of another religious denomination, addressed to the Editor of one of the Berwick-upon-Tweed newspapers. As an incidental, but very striking, confirmation of the character given by Mr. Beaumont, the letter is inserted here. Excepting one or two omissiona it is as follows : – ” Notwithstanding the brief record which you have already given of the death of Dr. M’Allum in your last paper, I trust no apology is requisite for again calling to your recollection that melancholy event ; possessing, as he did, such pre-eminent talents and worth, and interesting as every memorial of his character must be to such as enjoyed the gratification of his eloquence and piety, in his occasional visits to this town during the recent ministry of his reverend and venerable father in the Wesleyan- Methodist chapel in this place. “

It is only on his character as a Preacher and pulpit-orator, and on those qualities and indications of mind which he evinced in the dis charge of his public functions, that I mean at present to remark. Gifted with the possession of an original and talented mind, furnished and em bellished wiih extensive acquisitions of knowledge and learning, pos sessing a powerful, clear, and impressive mode of pronunciation, and all urged into diligent and continual exertion by the fervent and determined piety of a highly spiritual mind, it were to have been expected, that, with whatever denomination of Christians he united, he was destined by Providence to hold a prominent station and commanding influence among them. “

In the pulpit he was distinguished more by the varied assemblage of those qualities which, while they constituted general excellence, gave no marked prominence to any particular quality, but, mixed together, ren dered him truly a master in Israel; a workman that needed not to be ashamed. His discourses generally commenced with a calm and me thodical arrangement, exhibited much originality of thought as well as logical accuracy, until aroused into a flight of animation by some peculiar and awakening sentiment, on which occasion his eloquence and genius pre-eminently appeared. Glancing over the shortness of time, in one of his sermons, he exclaimed, ‘ Where is yesterday ? It is gone back into the ages beyond the flood. And where is to-morrow? It is in the bosom of futurity.’ Nor will such as heard his last sermon while here forget the impassioned ardour with which he depicted the wild commo tion, the jarring conflict, and the rude disruption of the elements of nature ; as he advanced these things in evidence that man in his present state was at enmity with their Author, and at variance with the regula tions of his moral government. Occasionally, his sentiments were couched in apophthegms, terse, pungent, and striking. One at present occurs to the recollection of the writer ; and, for the sake of its intrinsic excellence, it may be recorded : ‘ We ought to fear sin more than hell ; and to love holiness more than we love heaven.’ His method as a Preacher was discriminating and decisive. He 6eemed to aim at pro ducing a specific impression on the minds of his hearers ; and his sa lutary truths were wisely adapted to the wants and circumstances of the two great classes that obtain in every audience, and that will eventually be classed for their eternal destiny.

‘ By him the violated Law spoke out
Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet
As angels sing, the Gospel whisper’d peace.’

” In his devotional exercises his warmth of heart was peculiarly mani fest, and seldom failed to catch the sympathy, or breathe intently through the minds, of the worshippers. His sentiments and diction, though oc casionally tinged with the inaccuracies incident to extemporaneous ad dress, were yet so soothing, elevating, and impressive, as amply to atone for such imperfections. He had not, indeed, the solid excellence and magnificence of Hall, nor the exuberant imagination of Chalmers; bu% his eloquence was of that pure and effective stamp which warmed while it instructed, and enlightened while it impressed.”

The extent of these remarks leaves but little to be added by the com piler of this Memoir. He would only say, that if, amidst the numerous excellencies that adorned his character both in public and in private, there was any observable blemish, it was, perhaps, that his spirit of in dependence appeared sometimes to pass into a fault ; but still it was a fault from which no one suffered but himself. As to other points, his opinion coincides most fully with the substance of the testimonies above quoted ; or, even without referring to these testimonies, it will be sufficiently apparent from the tenor of the preceding Memoir ; in the com position of which he has endeavoured to maintain a constant re gard to truth and Christian moderation : nevertheless, he does not pretend to have executed his task with entire impartiality. He envies not the stoicism of that man’s heart who, having been intimately ac quainted with such an one as the late Dr. M’Allum could sit down as his biographer with the scrupulous frigidity of a mere chronicler of dates and circumstances ; and of this he is persuaded, that from the state ments he has made respecting his many and estimable excellencies, none who were acquainted with him will be disposed to make any very serious abatements.

The interest which was taken in his character, and the regret which was occasioned by his death, in York, and in the neighbourhood, were amply testified by the crowded congregations that attended to hear the sermons which were preached on the occasion ; the numbers being such, although the services were on the evening of a week-day, as to be hardly contained in the two largest of our chapels in that city.

His remains were interred in the churchyard of North-Shields. The spot is marked by a plain stone, which bears the following inscription : –

Sacred to the memory
Of the late KEV. DANIEL M’ALLUM, M. D.
Directed by his own choice, and by early education,
To the Medical Profession,
He was subsequently called by the Great Head of the Church
To minister in holy things.
In obedience to this call, he exercised his ministry
As an Itinerant Preacher in the Wesleyan-Methodist Connexion,
Until (by one of those mysterious dispensations of Providence,
The design of which remains to be unfolded in eternity,)
He was removed, in the midst of his years and of his usefulness,
From his labour on earth to his reward in heaven.
In him the sterner virtues of firmness and truth
Were singularly tempered by the milder graces
Of gentleness and benevolence ;
And in every domestic and social relation
He was eminently faithful.
His mind was a treasury, well stored with knowledge,
Both human and divine ;
To which he was accustomed to give utterance
In language remarkably fluent, perspicuous, and elegant.
He died in peace, at Carville,
July 2d, 1827,
Aged thirty-three years.

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