A remembrance of M'Cheyne's life by Rev. J. Roxburgh:
Whether viewed as a son, a brother, a friend, or pastor, often has the remark been made by those who knew him most intimately, that he was the most faultless and attractive exhibition of the true Christian which they had ever seen embodied in a living form. His great study was to be Christ-like. He was a man of remarkable singleness of heart. He lived but for one object – the glory of the Redeemer in connection with the salvation of immortal souls. Hence, he carried with him a kind of hallowing influence into every company into which he entered, and his brethren were accustomed to feel as if all were well when their measures met with the sanction and approval of Mr. M'Cheyne (p 160).
From sermon on John 14:6:
The whole Bible, and the whole of experience, bear witness that by nature we are ignorant of the truth. No doubt there are many truths which an unconverted man does know. He may know the truths of mathematics and arithmetic — he may know many of the common every-day truths; but still it cannot be said that an unconverted man knows the truth, for Christ is the truth.
Christ may be called the keystone of the arch of truth. Take away the keystone of an arch, and the whole becomes a heap of rubbish. The very same stones may be there; but they are all fallen, smothered, and confused — without order, without end. Just so take Christ away, and the whole arch of truth becomes a heap of rubbish. The very same truths may be there; but they are all fallen — without coherence, without order, without end.
Christ may be called the sun of the system of truth. Take away the sun out of our system, and every planet would rush into confusion. The very same planets would be there; but their conflicting forces would draw them hither and thither, orb dashing against orb in endless perplexity. Just so take Christ away, and the whole system of truth rushes into confusion.
M'Cheyne, impressed by Baxter's "Call to the Unconverted" wrote this poem (p 26):
Though Baxter's lips have long in silence hung,
And death long hush'd that sinner-wakening tongue,
Yet still, though dead, he speaks aloud to all,
And from the grave still issues forth his "Call":
Like some loud angel-voice from Zion hill,
The mighty echo rolls and rumbles still.
Oh, grant that we, when sleeping in the dust,
May thus speak forth the wisdom of the just!
M'Cheyne, in a letter to a friend writes (p 29):
Beware of the atmosphere of the classics. It is pernicious indeed; and you need much of the south wind breathing over the Scriptures to counteract it. True, we ought to know them; but only as chemists handle poisons – to discover their qualities, not to infect their blood with them.
If I could hear Christ praying for me in the next room, I would not fear a million of enemies. Yet the distance makes no difference; he is praying for me. (Page 154)