A Tale of Two Brothers
Robert McCheyne
Once there were two Scottish brothers, David and Robert.
David was so sensitive to truth that whenever he heard the slightest exaggeration, a shadow would flit across his face. He was scholarly and quiet and spent most of his leisure time helping the younger members of his family.
David was a devoted Christian. Too devoted, his younger brother, Robert, often thought. Especially when he came home from an evening of dancing and found David in earnest prayer.
"Really, Dave," he said once after tiptoeing in and finding the older boy kneeling. "I heard you call my name. Am I that bad?"
David tried to explain. "We're all sinners in God's sight, Bob. I'm praying that you'll trust in Christ instead of yourself."
Robert enrolled in the University of Edinburgh. He won award after award in the languages, drawing, music, and poetry.
"You have most remarkable talents," his philosophy professor told him. "Develop them to the fullest."
At home David grew weak and sickly. But his prayers for Robert at the university were as fervent as ever.
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His illness stretched out into long months. Only the light of his faith kept his spirits bright. And still he prayed for Robert.
Robert was eighteen when David died peacefully. With eyes red rimmed and swollen from weeping, Robert sought comfort in his brother's Saviour. From the day of David's death, the first streaks of spiritual dawn showed in his heart. His poetry blossomed into hymns of faith. His brilliant mind centered upon the Scriptures. Less than a year after his brother's death, he entered the Divinity College at Edinburgh.
The young brother moved on to become the most popular Presbyterian minister in Scotland and the British Isles. At twenty-three he became pastor of St. Peter's Church of Dundee, where his flock numbered over four thousand.
Robert's ministry lasted only seven years, from 1836 to 1843. During that time he was referred to as the holiest man in Scotland. Wave upon wave of spiritual power flowed from his sermons. Crowds came hours ahead of time to hear the Scriptures expounded by the silver-tongued youth. Revival fires sprang up wherever he preached. Even during the last months of his life when his chest was racked with tearing consumptive cough, he delivered the message of Christ. Even in his delirium he talked about Christ.
He died when he was barely thirty. On the day of his funeral, business houses closed in respect. Torrents of tears poured from the eyes of weeping thousands who had been blessed by his ministry.
Later when Robert McCheyne's memoirs were published, the Christian world learned that David's prayers and untimely death had brought Robert to Christ. But for David's faithful intercession, Scotland might have been denied her greatest minister, the saintly Robert Murray McCheyne.
