CHAPTER VIII.

BLINKBONNY FREE CHURCH.

“Brought freely their offerings, and with one accordSang, Glory and praise and worship to God!Loud rang the exultation. ’Twas the voiceOf a free people.”William Sotheby.

“Brought freely their offerings, and with one accordSang, Glory and praise and worship to God!Loud rang the exultation. ’Twas the voiceOf a free people.”

“Brought freely their offerings, and with one accord

Sang, Glory and praise and worship to God!

Loud rang the exultation. ’Twas the voice

Of a free people.”

William Sotheby.

THE formation and early history of the Free Church congregation of Blinkbonny is the subject of the following chapter; and I feel it to be one of special difficulty, not from any scarcity of interesting matter, but from the fear that my treatment of it may unhappily be misconstrued as an indirect attempt to promote sectarian interests.

Nothing is farther from my intention than to make the Established Church compare unfavourably with the Free Church. My desire is to present to my readers a sketch of some of the things that occurred, and of some of the persons that were engaged about them, in as far as my memory will enable me to recall these, not as a partisan, but as an annalist. I disclaim any such ambitious design as to attemptto embody in the “Bits” a description of what might be taken as a fairly representative Free Church minister and congregation of the Disruption times; and when I have to refer to matters relating to the churches as a whole, I will try to confine myself to what will tend to account for or explain the proceedings of the Free Church of Blinkbonny, without stirring up old questions, or unduly favouring any side.

DETERMINED, DARED, AND DONE.

It is not too much to say that the Disruption of 1843 was a great event, especially so for Scotland. The day on which it took place, the 18th of May 1843, is a day to be remembered, as during its course a noble spectacle of adherence to principle at great personal sacrifice was witnessed, of which any nation might justly feel proud. Nor were there awanting expressions of admiration; for even those who took the opposite side, and considered the Disruption as unnecessary and unwise, recognised it as a grand exhibition of Christian courage.

“All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,And even the ranks of TuscanyCould scarce forbear to cheer.”

“All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,

And even the ranks of Tuscany

Could scarce forbear to cheer.”

Hundreds of highly educated men,—men of large experience and sound judgment, many of whom had near and dear ones entirely dependent on them, andmost of them with no means of providing for their households or themselves excepting their incomes as clergymen,—men of like passions and wants, and weaknesses and necessities, as are common to all mankind, left the Church of their fathers, the Church of their life-work, the Church that they loved and had tried to protect and beautify, because they consideredthatto be their duty to their divine Master. The result has happily shown that in Scotland, and in various parts of the world, tens of thousands both of men and women could not only applaud such heroism as a grand sentiment, but that they could and did rally round the heroes, espouse their cause, and provide abundantly and with alacrity the means not only for the supply of their temporal wants, but also for pushing forward the cause they had at heart. Nor was personal effort awanting; for the Disruption leaders and ministers were themselves surprised as well as delighted by the zeal, energy, and devotion with which persons of all ranks became fellow-workers with them in building up the Free Church of Scotland.

The present generation knows but little of the occasional but determined opposition that many landowners displayed, particularly in the refusal of sites for Free churches, expecting and even resolving thatthey would thereby starve the people out, and bring them back to the Established Church.

THE HIGH PLACES OF THE FIELD.

I cannot and should not do more than refer to the great hardships and privations to which ministers and congregations were exposed, not only by the refusal of sites for churches, but by petty tyrannies exercised on them and on those who befriended, even on those who only pitied, these humble worshippers among the fir woods of Strathspey, on the stormy headlands of Mull or Skye, or on the bleak shores and barren moors of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland.

Even in the Lowlands, among the pastoral solitudes of Canonbie, or the gusty winds of Wanlockhead, said to be the highest inhabited place in Scotland, sites were not only refused, but our common humanity was outraged by wanton and sustained interference with such little protection as a thin tent, an old barn, or even an old quarry might afford; and this not only in the year of the Disruption, but for years thereafter, until it was made the subject of parliamentary inquiry.

To those to whom these facts are new, I would recommend the perusal of theAnnals of the DisruptionPart III., recently issued by authority of the Free Church of Scotland. Besides giving many interesting facts of the trials and privations I have referredto, this book tells that, owing to not being able to procure a site, the expedient was resorted to of a floating manse—the “Betsy,” an old boat of 12 tons burden, which, although very unfit to stand the storms of the Atlantic, was used by the Rev. Mr. Swanson as he passed from one stormy shore to another amongst the Highlands and islands of Scotland, and has been immortalized by Hugh Miller in his interesting book,The Cruise of the “Betsy.”

I had written the greater part of these “Bits,” and was asking a friend for information on a kindred subject, when he drew my attention to theAnnals; and since I have perused the book, I add my humble testimony to the admirable manner in which it presents the interesting and well-told tales of those recent Scottish worthies.

The story of the determined adherence of these suffering witnesses to their conscientious convictions in the face of ill-treatment and persecution, reached Blinkbonny, and it awakened not only a burst of indignation towards those who did the wrong, but it provoked a feeling which manifested itself in substantial help, as well as sympathetic admiration towards those who suffered the wrong; and to this cause, coupled with the high esteem in which Mr. Barrie was held, quite as much as to an intelligentadherence to any well-thought-out theory of church government, may be attributed the strong hold that the Free Church took of Blinkbonny.

ONE TOUCH OF NATURE.

The touch of tyranny laid on those distant members of the “body, the Church,” travelled like an electric current, and proved in the case of those members more happily situated to be the touch of nature, in making them feel more and more “kin” to “the bound as bound with them;” and the result was that they stood by them, and by the principles they contended for, so firmly, that those through whom the offence came ceased their violent dealings, and found that the wave of truth, and principle, and progress

“Rolled not back when Canute gave command.”

Only those who know Scotch village life well could believe how much of its variety, and interest, and conversation centres in the churches. There is often little else to gather the folks together, and such questions as, “Who’s to be assisting you? Is your own man at home just now? Does he belong to ‘oor body’? Where did he sit in Stirling? Will he be coming among us?” required nothing more to be said to convey to nearly everybody that they were questions about the Church.

A site was easily found for the Free church inBlinkbonny, and a church, on what was then known as the Tanfield Hall plan, a plain building of small gables and no architectural pretensions, was ready for occupation before the winter had fairly set in. Previous to this, a regular congregation had been formed. The majority of the elders had “come out” with Mr. Barrie, so that the session was easily made up. The Free Church also revived what most of the other churches in Scotland had overlooked or discarded, viz. the order of deacons, whose special function is to attend to the secular affairs of the congregation, and who are solemnly “ordained and set apart” for that important work; and to this more complete carrying out of the apostolical practice may be attributed much of the success which has attended the financial schemes of the Free Church, as it brought into her service the active, the shrewd, the prudent, and the willing, and provided a congenial sphere for the exercise of their talents.

HOMELY COMMENTARY.

The Session has as its special province the spiritual affairs of the congregation, and as the higher court it affords greater scope for the exercise of the gifts of utterance, readiness in the Scriptures, etc., on behalf of the members generally, but particularly towards the afflicted, the weary, the backsliding, or the erring. The Session is, besides, associated withthe Deacons’ Court in the superintendence, or at least the regulation, of the secular affairs; and there is thereby secured a combination, which old George Brown characterized, on the occasion of the proposal to elect the first deacons in Blinkbonny, thus: “What I said after the meetin’ in the hall on the Saturday after Mr. Barrie cam’ hame was, ‘As it were the company of two armies,’ but I didna think o’ the Deacons’ Court at the time. But I’ve been readin’ the Acks o’ the Apostles, an’ I find that the want o’ deacons hindered the very apostles; but when they got them the murmuring was not only stoppit, but the number o’ the disciples increased greatly, an’ even a great company o’ the very priests, the unlikeliest of all kinds o’ folks, were added to the Church. I wonder what for every kirk hasna deacons? Maybe it’s because Stephens an’ Philips are ill to find; and I’m inclined to think that we’ll a’ find that we’ve a great deal to learn about how to conduct kirk business o’ a’ kinds.”

I became a member of the first deacons’ court.

When our church was fit for use, we parted from our Secession friends with a grateful sense of their generous treatment of us, which we expressed as warmly as we could, and there is still existing much kindly interchange of brotherly affection between the two congregations.

When we opened the new church, we were especially gratified at the readiness with which several persons offered to place themselves at the disposal of the congregation, according to their ideas of what they could do. The appointment of a church officer or beadle was brought up at a congregational meeting; but it was very quickly settled by Walter Dalgleish, a jobbing gardener, who had been from the first a staunch adherent of the Free Church. “Ye’ll need nae paid beadles,” said Walter, rising half off his seat; “I’ll serve ye in that capacity if ye’ll alloo me, and be proud to do’t for naething.”

He proved a capital beadle, and when the funds were prosperous he was offered a salary. His answer to this proposal was unanswerable. “Christian friends,” said he, “I’ve been mair than paid already. Me an’ ma household have had what we read o’ in Second Samuel, sixth chapter an’ twalth verse, how the Lord blessed Obed-edom an’ all his household, when the ark rested in his house for three months. If ye’re pleased wi’ me, just let me do as I’ve been doing; or tell me hoo I can do better, an’ ye’ll no’ need to tell me twice if I can help it.”

“MUSIC HATH CHARMS.”

For the leading of the psalmody, the precentorship, there were several ready offerers. Of these, Andrew Taylor, the son of Mr. Taylor, the elder alreadyspoken of, most frequently occupied the “desk,” as the precentor’s seat was called (sometimes, however, the “bunker”). On one occasion it was the “turn” of his worthy father to stand at the “plate” in the lobby where the “collection” was made, along with a deacon named William Morrison, who was by trade a joiner, and had been working for the greater part of the summer in a neighbouring county at a new mansion-house. Andrew Taylor had a good voice of considerable power and sweetness, and William Morrison did not know that he was to lead the singing that day. As soon as his clear, silvery tone caught the deacon’s ear, he turned quickly to Mr. Taylor, and said, “Wha’s that that’s precentin’?”

“It’s our Andrew,” said Mr. Taylor.

“Your Andrew, Mr. Taylor!” said William, extending his hand; and taking Mr. Taylor’s, he shook it warmly. “Your Andrew! Ah, Maister Taylor, Maister Taylor, it’s glorious a’thegither! It’s by-ordinar’ grand to see sae mony finding out that they’re like the thousand an’ seven hunder an’ threescore in the ninth o’ First Chronicles, ‘very able men for the work of the service of the house of God,’ that were clean idle before. Eh, Maister Taylor, Maister Taylor! I maun join in,—I cannothelp mysel’.”

And these two men, standing at the plate in thelobby opposite the outer door, sent their voices into the street, for they knew the Psalms too well to need any book; and the appropriate words added strength to their lungs as they sang part of the 144th Psalm to the tune “New London”:

“That, as the plants, our sons may be,In youth grown up that are;Our daughters like to corner-stones,Carved like a palace fair.”

“That, as the plants, our sons may be,

In youth grown up that are;

Our daughters like to corner-stones,

Carved like a palace fair.”

I may here state that not the least observable matter in the new state of things was the additional meaning and force found in the Psalms of David. Possibly they are best adapted for a militant, progressive, almost agitated state of the Church. In our parish church, by the same people, they had been listlessly sung and seldom “entered into;” but in the new church, even in the reading of them by the minister, there was new light thrown on old psalms. Many in the congregation could be seen giving an appreciative nod, and if nearer them, you would have heard a very slight “hem,” which meant, “I didn’t observe that before.”

PSALMS AND HYMNS.

There was possibly a tendency to apply to present circumstances what suited other and often all times; at all events, the psalms were sung with intense feeling. To specify the favourites would be to copy agreat part of the Book of Psalms. If anything, the nineties had the palm, but the forty-sixth—“God is our refuge and our strength,” Luther’s “Ein Feste Burg”—became as popular with us as it had been in Germany.

Perhaps this may account for the slow progress which hymns made for many years in Scotland. Many of these noble compositions of Christian genius are now used as vehicles of praise, and they unquestionably have their place and power in the service of song; but the older folks still maintain that they want “grup;” and the early Scottish Church found ample material for expressing its aspirations or presenting its tribute of grave sweet melody in the old Psalms of David.

For Mr. Barrie the summer was one of special excitement. He was much occupied with his own congregation, and with the affairs of the Free Church of Scotland generally. He had always been a studious man, was a fair scholar, and had given conscientious attention to his preparations for the pulpit, and to the visitation of the sick. But he now appeared to have got new life, and an increased power of penetration into many parts of the Christian’s duty. Instead of relaxing what is called in Scotland discipline, or lowering the terms of communion, he was moreemphatic than ever in pressing on all, especially on advanced young persons, not to profess what they did not feel. He seemed a man absorbed in his Master’s work, and his former reading experience and observation became a magazine whence he could draw for his ready service illustration, incentive, or appeal.

He not only surprised others, but he was a wonder to himself. Thoughts flowed in on him as he prepared himself in the study for pulpit work; light broke in so as to surprise and refresh him; parts of Scripture that seemed barren before, were now bristling with meaning and practical lessons. What surprised him most was that he hardly ever looked into commentaries or books of systematic theology. The circumstances of himself and his people became so real to him, that nearly every verse he read seemed to suggest a good text for a sermon; and his difficulty was in arranging his ministrations so as to give to each part its proportionate share of attention.

“I seem to myself to be,” said he to a brother minister, “like the lame man at the Beautiful gate of the temple. Up till now I have been lame from my mother’s womb; but I feel as if my feet and ankle bones had received strength, and now it is with me more like walking, and leaping, and praising God.”

His fears as to the support of his family, which hadbeen so very trying to him, were now gone; and although he did little in the way of directly stimulating congregational liberality, he in the course of his preaching showed, what few of us had noticed before, the great prominence that giving to God’s cause has both in the Old and New Testaments, and its reflex influence on the Church. This went to the hearts of the people, and they offered willingly. During the first year the congregation raised more than had been collected in the Established church of the parish for fifty years.

“OVER AGAINST THE TREASURY.”

Over Scotland much of the same spirit existed. The continuous rain of £1000 a-day, as Dr. Chalmers called it, kept pouring on,—so much so that those who were looked on as martyrs in ’43, were spoken of as heroes in ’44. Indeed, their heroism, like all other heroism, was by many considered rashness; and when they undertook to erect schools as well as churches, it was thought that the “ship would soon get over-freighted and go to the bottom;” but it seemed as if the more they attempted, the more they prospered, until, like the Israelites in Egypt, the people multiplied and waxed very mighty.

Well do I remember the evening of our first annual soiree. The treasurer’s report told of some £400 paid, and other £300 promised. As soon as it wasfinished, Mr. Barrie stood up, and without book, without even giving out the number of the psalm, repeated with great vigour:

“When Sion’s bondage God turn’d back,Like men that dream’d were we;Then filled with laughter was our mouth,Our tongue with melody,” etc.

“When Sion’s bondage God turn’d back,

Like men that dream’d were we;

Then filled with laughter was our mouth,

Our tongue with melody,” etc.

The singingwashearty.

The experience of hundreds of Free churches in Scotland was similar to that of Blinkbonny; and when we consider that the members were a moiety of what those of the Established Church had been previous to the Disruption, and that they had not been trained to systematic giving (for it is matter of history that the contributions of the Church of Scotland previous to 1843, for charitable and religious purposes, were utterly disproportionate to her wealth, and fell far short of what the Dissenters of the period raised), we are the more struck with the stream of devout and intelligent liberality which flowed into the Free Church treasury steadily and continually, and which is still flowing.

MORE TO FOLLOW.

The years 1844–1847 were severe years for the country. Owing to the potato disease and consequent dulness of trade, poverty and want came to many a door, and hundreds not only denied themselvesluxuries, but many things formerly considered necessaries were more sparingly used, in order to alleviate the distresses of suffering Ireland and the Highlands, as well as the general poor; and instead of the one call interfering with the other, both were promptly and nobly met, to an extent that would have been declared unattainable a few years before.

I cannot refrain from making special mention of the cause of foreign missions. It can readily be supposed that with churches, and manses, and in many places schools, to build, and the ministry to support by spontaneous contributions, with no fixed source of income, and little experience of voluntary liberality, the Free Church would have had so much to do at home that there was neither call nor means to undertake foreign mission work.

The mission question was a perplexing one. The missionaries of the Church of Scotland, being out of the arena of immediate conflict, yet conversant with the matters in dispute, were as well qualified as any men could be to judge of the points of contention; and their decision as to whether they would declare themselves as adhering to the Established or Free Church, was anxiously looked for.

To all human appearance the Free Church could do nothing for them,—certainly could guarantee nothing.However willing their spirit might he, their flesh seemed in this matter helplessly weak. Moreover, the “Non-Intrusion” matter was a home question, and did not directly affect the missionaries, and the Established Church had still great wealth and power without any such extra call on her resources.

The decision of the missionaries was unanimously and resolutely in favour of the Free Church. When this fact was announced to the Assembly at its meeting in Glasgow in the autumn of 1843, it created intense excitement. The enthusiasm was indescribable. For some minutes the meeting was a Babel of cheering, and shouts of joy, and mutual congratulations, friend rushing to friend to relieve their feelings by violent shakings of hands; and every now and again during the meeting the pent-up gladness exploded vociferously.

The Free Church had already undertaken enormous responsibilities. Would they assume this additional one? Dared they? Was it not a question of the certain king who had ten thousand soldiers to meet twenty thousand? Had they a clear call to go forward? It was a solemn question. Yes required strong—very strong faith. Would they say Yes? No was the loud answer of sight,—clearly, unquestionably, No.

FROM POLE TO POLE.

The foundation of the Home Church had been laid in a way that was wonderful in their eyes. Was the building ready for this grand cope-stone?

“It will crush it to atoms,” said the adversary.

“Never!” was the triumphant reply. “Who art thou, O great mountain? before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain; and he shall bring forth the headstone thereof with shoutings, crying, Grace, grace unto it!” And the support of the missionaries and mission stations was undertaken with enthusiasm.

All the funds collected for the mission cause were of course in the hands of the Church of Scotland, and retained by it, although these had been largely supplied by those who now formed the Free Church. The mission premises abroad were also kept by them, and even the mission libraries and educational appliances, although these had been mostly brought together by the personal efforts or friends of the missionaries, so that the Free Church got the living men only.

This was according to theletterof the law, but many of the best men in the Established Church strongly insisted on the funds, etc. being partly apportioned to the Free Church, and that the property should go with the missionaries, as equity and consistency alike indicated, even in the things that wereCæsar’s. A reverend father of the Established Church thus expressed himself on this subject:

“The question yet to be settled is, are they ours? Did I say yet to be settled? That depends on the court in which the question is tried. In the highest court, the decision of the greater than Solomon would be in this matter in favour of the Free Church. ‘Give her the living child, she is the mother thereof;’ this has already been done, and it is a mean thing to send her empty away.”

When it was proposed to contribute regularly for foreign missions in Blinkbonny, the more experienced members deemed it inexpedient until our home affairs were put on a sure basis, but some of the ladies espoused the cause keenly. They with some difficulty prevailed on Mr. Taylor to introduce the subject at a general meeting. His speech was far from being hearty; it was a mere question, “Could the members give to any scheme they liked?”

“Certainly,” replied the chairman.

“Well, there are some that want to give to the missionaries, and I think we should appoint a committee.”

This was done, and before a year had passed £42 were collected. Strange to say, the other schemes seemed to suffer so little, that even George Brown, who was one of the most timid, “thocht the folk were made o’ siller.”

GUDE SILLER.

How different this was from what we had done for missions in the old Church! I remember of the well-to-do farmer of Ramsay lands asking me for two sixpences for a shilling, adding, “Isna this a collection for the missionaries? I fancy we’ll hae to gi’e them a saxpence.” Next week he gave to a curling club a silver medal.

He was justly esteemed as a good, kind man, but his “saxpence” not unfairly represents the ideas of the times on the subject of missions.

It took a considerable time to reconcile the older folks to the exercise of missionary liberality. As I was coming from a meeting in which the missionary treasurer had announced that there had been collected for foreign missions during the previous year upwards of £42, James Wilkie, an old gamekeeper, spoke thus:

“Mr. Martin, did I hear richt, think ye? did our treasurer say that we (?) had gathered forty-twa pound for thae missionars?”

“Quite right,” said I; “forty-two pounds odds, James.”

“It’s a great heap o’ siller,” said he; “div ye no’ really think that it’s a pity to see a’ that gude siller gaun out o’ the country?”

I will close this chapter with two reminiscences of Dr. Duff in the Free Church General Assembly.

The Home Mission report was being commented on by Sheriff Monteith. He said that home missions had not the romance about them that foreign missions had.

Dr. Duff sprang to his feet with a bound like a tiger springing on its prey, and said something like this:

“Romance, sir! Romance did I hear you say!—romance? Are the burning suns of India romance? leaving home and kindred, and ease and comfort, romance? exposing your family to the horrors of heathenism, romance?” At each sentence he stepped nearer Sheriff Monteith, until, while saying something rather personal about not leaving his comfortable table to visit the dens of infamy in the Cowgate, his clenched fist was dangerously near the Sheriff’s face. It was not a long speech, but the look of burning indignation with which he delivered it, and the energy of his gesticulation, told powerfully. At the last words, “Romance, forsooth!” he sat down exhausted.

THE FLOWERS O’ THE FOREST.

Never was “oil thrown on the waters” with more quiet force and effect than by Dr. Buchanan on that occasion. A few words sufficed, words of remarkable dignity and tenderness, and at their close he took Sheriff Monteith by the one hand, and Dr. Duff by the other, and with great heartiness they shook hands on the platformof the Assembly amidst the loud applause of the audience. I thought then, and I think yet, that I never saw three as fine-looking, noble-hearted Christian gentlemen,—certainly never grouped on such a striking occasion. It seemed to me to be a living group representing Faith, Hope, Charity, but I would not undertake to determine which was which.

My other reminiscence is of the evening meeting after the union of the Free Church with the Original Secession Church. I can recall Dr. Duff’s massive, sunburnt face, his thick, erect, bristling hair, and his perfervid eloquence.

He spoke of looking out on his return from India for the grand old ministers he used to meet in his younger days. “Where were Dr. Andrew Thomson, Dr. David Dickson, old Dr. McCrie, Dr. Chalmers?” Not in the haunts of living men. He had to go to the graveyards and content himself with honouring their memories; and it made him feel as if

‘The flowers o’ the forest were a’ wede away.’

But when he returned to the familiar streets, he forgot his grief as he saw Dr. McCrie, the worthy son of a worthy father, Dr. John Brown, Dr. Grey, Dr. Glover, and such men carrying aloft the standard of the Master. Truly great was the multitude thatpublished the good news in Scotland, but what of India with its tens of millions? How was the Church discharging its duty to the heathen world?

He then said with a persuasive smile: “A mother in Scotland thus showed her loyalty for an earthly prince:

‘I hae but ae son, my brave young Donald,But gin I had ten they wad follow Prince Charlie.’

‘I hae but ae son, my brave young Donald,

But gin I had ten they wad follow Prince Charlie.’

Why not the same, why not greater devotion to the Prince of Peace, the King of kings? I ask not the tens, although that would be but right, but in this day of small things I ask but one in ten.”

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