YEAR 1770
THIS blessed Ann. Dom. was one of the Sabbaths of my ministry. When I
look back upon it, all is quiet and good order: the darkest cloud of the
smuggling had passed over, at least from my people, and the rumours of
rebellion in America were but like the distant sound of the bars of Ayr.
We sat, as it were, in a lown and pleasant place, beholding our
prosperity, like the apple-tree adorned with her garlands of flourishes,
in the first fair mornings of the spring, when the birds were returning
thanks to their Maker for the coming again of the seed-time, and the busy
bee goeth forth from her cell, to gather honey from the flowers of the
field, and the broom of the hill, and the blue-bells and gowans, which
Nature, with a gracious and a gentle hand, scatters in the valley, as she
walketh forth in her beauty, to testify to the goodness of the Father of
all mercies.
Both at the spring and the harvest sacraments, the weather was as that
which is in Paradise; there was a glad composure in all hearts, and the
minds of men were softened towards each other. The number of
communicants was greater than had been known for many years, and the
tables were filled by the pious from many a neighbouring parish: those of
my hearers who had opposed my placing, declared openly, for a testimony
of satisfaction and holy thankfulness, that the tent, so surrounded as it
was on both occasions, was a sight they never had expected to see. I
was, to be sure, assisted by some of the best divines then in the land,
but I had not been a sluggard myself in the vineyard.
Often, when I think on this year, so fruitful in pleasant intimacies, has
the thought come into my mind, that as the Lord blesses the earth from
time to time with a harvest of more than the usual increase, so, in like
manner, he is sometimes for a season pleased to pour into the breasts of
mankind a larger portion of good-will and charity, disposing them to love
one another, to be kindly to all creatures, and filled with the delight
of thankfulness to himself, which is the greatest of blessings.
It was in this year that the Earl of Eaglesham ordered the fair to be
established in the village; and it was a day of wonderful festivity to
all the bairns, and lads and lassies, for miles round. I think, indeed,
that there has never been such a fair as the first since; for although we
have more mountebanks and merry-andrews now, and richer cargoes of
groceries and packman’s stands, yet there has been a falling off in the
light-hearted daffing, while the hobleshows in the change-houses have
been awfully augmented. It was on this occasion that Punch’s opera was
first seen in our country side, and surely never was there such a funny
curiosity; for although Mr. Punch himself was but a timber idol, he was
as droll as a true living thing, and napped with his head so comical; but
oh! he was a sorrowful contumacious captain, and it was just a sport to
see how he rampaged, and triumphed, and sang. For months after, the
laddie weans did nothing but squeak and sing like Punch. In short, a
blithe spirit was among us throughout this year, and the briefness of the
chronicle bears witness to the innocency of the time.