As befitted a persevering and energetic man he was an early riser, yet he found that not only did his business require it, but he discovered “our Lord when on earth rising a great while before day that He might spend some time in secret prayer, and David says, ‘Early will I seek Thee.’” So good a habit scarcely needed so lofty an apology. His father appears to have remonstrated with him as to his excess of zeal: “Concerning the meetings you attend, God Almighty never designed man to spend all his time in godliness; He designed such as you and me to work for our bread”--advice that had not much effect, for we find Nisbet writing when down home in Scotland in 1808, “I have lost much time in coming here--no Thursday night sermons, no companion with whom I would wish to be on intimate friendship, and no Sabbath schools; and the Sabbath is a very poor Sabbath, very unlike our dear Sabbath in London.” Having, however, returned to London in 1809, he commenced business for himself on a very limited scale as a bookseller in Castle Street, and characteristically the first books sold were copies of Streeter’s “Catechism.” In due course of time he prospered, was admitted to the freedom of the City of London, and elected to the office of Renter Warden in the Stationers’ Company. As soon as his reputation as a religious publisher was established, he purchased a house in Berners Street--“the great object of his ambition being, not to amass a large fortune for aggrandisement, but to be the pious proprietor of a comfortable dwelling, which he could throw open for the hospitable entertainment of godly men.” He firmly adhered to his principles of publishing books of one peculiar class, and rigidly excluded everything that was not of a moral or religious character; and not satisfied with purchasing the copyright of his authors upon highly advantageous terms, often added a liberal bonus when the work proved profitable. “To such a degree,” says his biographer, “did his generosity overflow, that one estimable man, ‘whose praise is in all the churches,’ felt constrained to put the curb on his publisher’s largesse. ‘I shall agree to accept one hundred pounds, and no more,’ commences one of his legal agreements.” Such conduct had its reward, for, says Mr. Wallace, “notwithstanding the humble position which James Nisbet occupied as a mere shopkeeper, so high was the estimation in which he was held as a philanthropist and a churchman that he was occasionally honoured by pressing invitations from families in the higher ranks of life, to visit them at their country seats”--the lesson drawn from such amazing condescension by the biographer being, “Him that honoureth I will honour”--and accordingly Nisbet went for a whole week to Tollymore Park, and naturally writes from there: “What a blessed thing it is to be a Christian.” The curious chapter in which this visit is recorded is headed, “Yea, brother, let me have joy of thee in the Lord.”