YEAR 1779
I WAS named in this year for the General Assembly, and Mrs. Balwhidder,
by her continual thrift, having made our purse able to stand a shake
against the wind, we resolved to go into Edinburgh in a creditable
manner. Accordingly, in conjunct with Mrs. Dalrymple, the lady of a
major of that name, we hired the Irville chaise, and we put up in
Glasgow, at the Black Boy, where we stayed all night. Next morning, by
seven o’clock, we got into a fly-coach for the capital of Scotland, which
we reached after a heavy journey about the same hour in the evening, and
put up at the public where it stopped till the next day; for really both
me and Mrs. Balwhidder were worn out with the undertaking, and found a
cup of tea a vast refreshment.
Betimes, in the morning, having taken our breakfast, we got a caddy to
guide us and our wallise to Widow M‘Vicar’s, at the head of the
Covenanters’ Close. She was a relation to my first wife, Betty Lanshaw,
my own full cousin that was, and we had advised her, by course of post,
of our coming, and intendment to lodge with her as uncos and strangers.
But Mrs. M‘Vicar kept a cloth shop, and sold plaidings and flannels,
besides Yorkshire superfines, and was used to the sudden incoming of
strangers, especially visitants, both from the West and the North
Highlands, and was withal a gawsy furthy woman, taking great pleasure in
hospitality, and every sort of kindliness and discretion. She would not
allow of such a thing as our being lodgers in her house, but was so cagey
to see us, and to have it in her power to be civil to a minister, as she
was pleased to say, of such repute, that nothing less would content her
but that we must live upon her, and partake of all the best that could be
gotten for us within the walls of “the gude town.”
When we found ourselves so comfortable, Mrs. Balwhidder and me waited on
my patron’s family that was, the young ladies, and the laird, who had
been my pupil, but was now an advocate high in the law. They likewise
were kind also. In short, every body in Edinburgh were in a manner
wearisome kind, and we could scarcely find time to see the Castle and the
palace of Holyrood-house, and that more sanctified place, where the
Maccabeus of the Kirk of Scotland, John Knox, was wont to live.
Upon my introduction to his grace the Commissioner, I was delighted and
surprised to find the Lord Eaglesham at the levee, and his lordship was
so glad on seeing me, that he made me more kenspeckle than I could have
wished to have been in his grace’s presence; for, owing to the same, I
was required to preach before his grace, upon a jocose recommendation of
his lordship; the which gave me great concern, and daunted me so that in
the interim I was almost bereft of all peace and studious composure of
mind. Fain would I have eschewed the honour that was thus thrust upon
me; but both my wife and Mrs. M‘Vicar were just lifted out of themselves
with the thought.
When the day came, I thought all things in this world were loosened from
their hold, and that the sure and steadfast earth itself was grown coggly
beneath my feet, as I mounted the pulpit. With what sincerity I prayed
for help that day! and never stood man more in need of it; for through
all my prayer the congregation was so watchful and still, doubtless to
note if my doctrine was orthodox, that the beating of my heart might have
been heard to the uttermost corners of the kirk.
I had chosen as my text, from Second Samuel, xixth chapter and 35th
verse, these words—“Can I hear any more the voice of singing men and
singing women? Wherefore, then, should thy servant be yet a burden to
the king?” And hardly had I with a trembling voice read the words, when
I perceived an awful stir in the congregation; for all applied the words
to the state of the church, and the appointment of his grace the
Commissioner. Having paused after giving out the text, the same fearful
and critical silence again ensued, and every eye was so fixed upon me,
that I was for a time deprived of courage to look about; but heaven was
pleased to compassionate my infirmity, and as I proceeded, I began to
warm as in my own pulpit. I described the gorgeous Babylonian harlot
riding forth in her chariots of gold and silver, with trampling steeds
and a hurricane of followers, drunk with the cup of abominations, all
shouting with revelry, and glorying in her triumph, treading down in
their career those precious pearls, the saints and martyrs, into the mire
beneath their swinish feet. “Before her you may behold Wantonness
playing the tinkling cymbal, Insolence beating the drum, and Pride
blowing the trumpet. Every vice is there with his emblems; and the
seller of pardons, with his crucifix and triple crown, is distributing
his largess of perdition. The voices of men shout to set wide the gates,
to give entrance to the queen of nations, and the gates are set wide, and
they all enter. The avenging gates close on them—they are all shut up in
hell.”
There was a sough in the kirk as I said these words; for the vision I
described seemed to be passing before me as I spoke, and I felt as if I
had witnessed the everlasting destruction of Antichrist, and the
worshippers of the Beast. But soon recovering myself, I said in a soft
and gentle manner, “Look at yon lovely creature in virgin-raiment, with
the Bible in her hand. See how mildly she walks along, giving alms to
the poor as she passes on towards the door of that lowly dwelling—Let us
follow her in—She takes her seat in the chair at the bedside of the poor
old dying sinner; and as he tosses in the height of penitence and
despair, she reads to him the promise of the Saviour—‘This night thou
shalt be with me in Paradise;’ and he embraces her with transports, and,
falling back on his pillow, calmly closes his eyes in peace. She is the
true religion; and when I see what she can do even in the last moments of
the guilty, well may we exclaim, when we think of the symbols and
pageantry of the departed superstition, Can I hear any more the voice of
singing men and singing women? No; let us cling to the simplicity of the
Truth that is now established in our native land.”
At the conclusion of this clause of my discourse, the congregation, which
had been all so still and so solemn, never coughing, as was often the
case among my people, gave a great rustle, changing their positions, by
which I was almost overcome; however, I took heart and ventured on, and
pointed out that, with our Bible and an orthodox priesthood, we stood in
no need of the king’s authority, however bound we were, in temporal
things, to respect it; and I showed this at some length, crying out in
the words of my text, “Wherefore, then, should thy servant be yet a
burden to the king?” in the saying of which I happened to turn my eyes
towards his grace the Commissioner, as he sat on the throne, and I
thought his countenance was troubled, which made me add, that he might
not think I meant him any offence, “That the King of the Church was one
before whom the great, and the wise, and the good—all doomed and
sentenced convicts—implore his mercy.” “It is true,” said I, “that in
the days of his tribulation he was wounded for our iniquities, and died
to save us; but, at his death, his greatness was proclaimed by the quick
and the dead. There was sorrow, and there was wonder, and there was
rage, and there was remorse; but there was no shame there—none blushed on
that day at that sight but yon glorious luminary.” The congregation
rose, and looked round, as the sun that I pointed at shone in at the
window. I was disconcerted by their movement, and my spirit was spent,
so that I could say no more.
When I came down from the pulpit, there was a great pressing in of
acquaintance and ministers, who lauded me exceedingly; but I thought it
could be only in derision, therefore I slipped home to Mrs. M‘Vicar’s as
fast as I could.
Mrs. M‘Vicar, who was a clever, hearing-all sort of a neighbour, said my
sermon was greatly thought of, and that I had surprised everybody; but I
was fearful there was something of jocularity at the bottom of this, for
she was a flaunty woman, and liked well to give a good-humoured gibe or
jeer. However, his grace the Commissioner was very thankful for the
discourse, and complimented me on what he called my apostolical
earnestness; but he was a courteous man, and I could not trust to him,
especially as my lord Eaglesham had told me in secrecy before—it’s true,
it was in his gallanting way—that, in speaking of the king’s servant as I
had done, I had rather gone beyond the bounds of modern moderation.
Altogether, I found neither pleasure nor profit in what was thought so
great an honour, but longed for the privacy of my own narrow pasture, and
little flock.
It was in this visit to Edinburgh that Mrs. Balwhidder bought her silver
teapot, and other ornamental articles; but this was not done, as she
assured me, in a vain spirit of bravery, which I could not have abided,
but because it was well known that tea draws better in a silver pot, and
drinks pleasanter in a china cup, than out of any other kind of cup or
teapot.
By the time I got home to the manse, I had been three whole weeks and
five days absent, which was more than all my absences together, from the
time of my placing; and my people were glowing with satisfaction when
they saw us driving in a Glasgow chaise through the clachan to the manse.
The rest of the year was merely a quiet succession of small incidents,
none of which are worthy of notation, though they were all severally, no
doubt, of aught somewhere, as they took us both time and place in the
coming to pass, and nothing comes to pass without helping onwards to some
great end; each particular little thing that happens in the world being a
seed sown by the hand of Providence to yield an increase, which increase
is destined, in its turn, to minister to some higher purpose, until at
last the issue affects the whole earth. There is nothing in all the
world that doth not advance the cause of goodness; no, not even the sins
of the wicked, though, through the dim casement of her mortal tabernacle,
the soul of man cannot discern the method thereof.