Note 14 — MY FATHER’S MEMOIR. A LETTER TO JOHN CAIRNS, D. D.

His reading aloud of everything from John Gilpin to John Howe was a fine and high art, or rather gift. Henderson could not have given “The dinner waits, and we are tired;” Says Gilpin, “So am I,” better; and to hear him sounding the depths and cadences of the Living Temple, “bearing on its front this doleful inscription, ‘Here God once dwelt,’” was like listening to the recitative of Handel. But Isaiah was his masterpiece; and I remember quite well his startling us all when reading at family worship, “His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God,” by a peremptory, explosive sharpness, as of thunder overhead, at the words “the mighty God,” similar to the rendering now given to Handel’s music, and doubtless so meant by him; and then closing with “the Prince of Peace,” soft and low. No man who wishes to feel Isaiah, as well as understand him, should be ignorant of Handel’s “Messiah.” His prelude to “Comfort ye”—its simple theme, cheerful and infinite as the ripple of the unsearchable sea—gives a deeper meaning to the words. One of my father’s great delights in his dying months was reading the lives of Handel and of Michael Angelo, then newly out. He felt that the author of “He was despised,” and “He shall feed his flock,” and those other wonderful airs, was a man of profound religious feeling, of which they were the utterance; and he rejoiced over the warlike airs and choruses of “Judas Maccabæus.” You have recorded his estimate of the religious nature of him of the terribile via; he said it was a relief to his mind to know that such a mighty genius walked humbly with his God. Return