"Feed thy people with
thy rod, the flock of thino heritage, which dwell solitarily in the
wood, in the midst of Carmel; let them feed in Bashan and Gilead as in
the days of old.” Mic. vii. 14.
We now enter upon an
unpleasant portion of Dr. MacGregor’s history, viz., the controversy in
which immediately after his arrival he was involved with the brethren
sent out by the Burgher Synod—a controversy which excited a good deal of
irritation, and for a time had an injurious effect upon the common
cause. We have not been able to obtain full particulars on the subject.
The minutes of the Truro Presbytery have been mislaid within a short
period, and the most important papers, some of which were in existence a
few years ago, have perished, while traditionary information is
uncertain. We shall give such a general account of it as we have been
able to gather. He thus refers to it himself:
“This week I went to
Truro, and preached to the Presbytery and people there, and had a long
conversation about union to no effect. They, being better acquainted
with the state of the Province, insisted, that as the grounds of
difference at home had no existence here, they should not mar our
communion; but I being a stranger, thought that the change of place made
no material difference, and insisted that they should condemn here what
I condemned at home and here. An undue irritation took place, which
continued, in some degree, while these two ministers lived. This want of
union was no small trial to me, as I was alone, and there were three of
them.”
The meeting here
referred to took place on the 2nd of August 1786, when the first
Presbytery formed in Nova Scotia, was constituted under the name of the
Associate Presbytery of Truro. The ministers present were the Rev.
Daniel Cock of Truro, the Rev. David Smith of Londonderry, the Rev. Hugh
Graham of Cornwallis, the Rev. George Gilmore of Windsor, and Dr.
MacGregor. Of these Mr. Gilmore only sat as a correspondent member, and
never seems to have taken any part in their proceedings. Dr. MacGregor
attended the meeting, took part in the devotional exercises, but
afterward refused to unite with them, so that the Presbytery actually
consisted of the three ministers first named, all from the Burgher
Synod.
This refusal led to
several interviews and a large amount of epistolary correspondence. It
was remarked that at their meetings he was in bodily presence mild and
gentle, but that his letters were not only weighty and powerful, but
sometimes very severe. In the course of discussion, which was conducted
on the part of the Presbytery principally by Mr. Smith, a good deal of
angry feeling was excited, and hard blows were given on both sides. But
even if we could describe the matters involving personal irritation,
which occurred in the course of the controversy, any farther account
would be quite uncalled for at this date. One result of this controversy
was that individuals through the congregations of the Truro Presbytery,
who had been connected with the Antiburgher Synod in the mother country,
took part with the Doctor, and being joined by others, who perhaps had
become disaffected to their ministers, but who acted under the
profession of zeal for the truth, formed parties in several sections
opposed to the Presbytery. On the other hand, we regret to say, that
from Mr. Smith’s letters it appears, that he favoured such opposition to
the Doctor as that of William MacKay hereafter to be described.
In consequence of this
state of things the Presbytery some years later, in accordance with a
representation of the congregation of Truro, renewed correspondence with
him. lie in consequence gave in a letter, containing a formal statement
of his reasons for declining union with them, most of which he had given
previously. This document, though in existence a few years ago, we have
been unable to obtain, but we have a letter containing remarks upon it,
from which we learn something of his grounds for separating from them.
They were eight in number. The first was the Burgess Oath. Another was
the manner in which the Bev. James Munro was admitted a member of
Presbytery, there being at that time some imputations thrown out against
his doctrine. A third was the use of Watts’ Psalms, by some of the
adherents of the Presbytery, and we believe by some of the ministers.
The practice had been introduced by the settlers who had emigrated from
the United States. A fourth was the mode of electing elders, but what
the matter of complaint on this head was, we have not ascertained.
Another was that the Presbytery had not adopted the Westminster
Confession of Faith in terms sufficiently explicit. On this point he
went the length of saying, that it was no more the Confession of Faith
of the Presbytery, than was the Creed of Pope Pius the IV. The reason,
however, which in the present day will be regarded as of deepest
interest, was the fact that the Rev. Daniel Cock, one of the members of
Presbytery, held a coloured girl in slavery. On this point he went so
far as to say, that he hoped he would rather burn at the stake than keep
communion with one who did so. The other two reasons we have not been
able to ascertain.
On looking at these
reasons, it will be seen that the first, if not some others, refers to
matters of local interest in Scotland. Considering the tenacity with
which the minute distinctions between different denominations are held
there, and the violence with which the controversies of the time were
conducted, we need not be at all surprised, that a person just coming
from the heat of conflict, should refuse to unite with ministers of
different views on these subjects. The same thing has been happening
ever since. Persons coming here naturally transport hither all the
questions and issues, that were being tried in the country of their
birth, and believe that faithfulness to truth and duty requires that
matters only of local interest should be made a ground of separation. It
requires some years’ residence to show the folly of retaining such
distinctions, and many never learn to abandon them. It appears therefore
to us unfortunate that Dr. MacGregor was called on to decide this
question so soon after his arrival here. Those who had been longer in
the country insisted that these differences had properly no existence
here, and should not be made grounds of separation. A few years’
residence here led him to the same conclusion, and in the above extract
he acknowledges that they judged more accurately than he did, and he
afterward became one of the most ardent friends of union.
It must be observed, in
addition, that the Antiburgher body in whose views he had been educated,
held, as we have observed in a former chapter, the very closest views
regarding communion. Forbearance on matters of religious opinion was
held to be a sinful connivance at error or wrong doing. They argued for
charity toward those from whom they differed, but to hold communion with
those who could not agree with them even on the minutest points, was
considered as compromising their own testimony, as holding fellowship
with error, and becoming partakers in its guilt. In these views he had
been educated, and at this time he fully adopted them, so that when the
Truro brethren, admitting the difference in their views, pled for
forbearance, he at once took strong ground in opposition, and the
general question underwent a thorough discussion. We may mention that,
on this point particularly, he had a long epistolary controversy with
the late Robert Archibald, Esq., of Musquodobort. We have some letters
of the latter in our possession, that, as the production of a layman,
not having a classical education, are highly creditable exhibitions both
of his theological knowledge and Christian spirit.
It is but just to
observe here, that while Dr. MacGregor felt himself precluded
conscientiously from fellowship with these brethren, he never introduced
among the people of his charge the controversy on the Burgess Oath, or
any of the other questions at issue between the Secession and the other
Presbyterian bodies in Scotland. He faithfully acted in the spirit of
the injunction of Synod, that he was sent not to make Sceeders but
Christians. No assent was ever required from any whom he admitted to the
privileges of the church, to the peculiarities which distinguished the
Secession from other members of the Presbyterian family, and whatever we
may think of his views on communion at this time, no man could be more
free from a sectarian spirit, than he was through his whole career.
During this separation
two points arose of some difficulty. The body from which he had come,
held that even u occasional hearing” of preaching from those against
whose position they were lifting a protest was wrong. But should he now
say that people should not go to hear Mr. Cock? He was not long in
coming to the conclusion, that however these views might answer where
people had the opportunity of attending upon the ministrations of those
holding the same religious profession, it would be wrong to attempt to
put them into practice in this country where they had no such
opportunity. The other point of difficulty was, whether it was his duty
to preach to those in the congregations of the Truro brethren, who
adhered to his views? Would not this be exciting strife? He laid the
subject before his friends in Scotland. Mr. Buist thus gives his opinion
on these points:
“As to supplying-—I am
much at a loss. 1 think you can judge much better. We should engage in
the Lord’s service when the call is clear, without fear of consequences.
This is all that I can say. I may also add, “ Be ye wise as serpents,
and harmless as doves.” As to hearing Mr. C., you are in an infant state
and must come to our order by degrees. At the same time you may tell
your mind as to such things as persons may be able to bear it.”
We have only to add
that he generally discouraged such applications to him for preaching,
and only yielded to them in consequence of earnest solicitation.
One of his reasons,
however, will be admitted to have possessed great importance, and in the
opinion of British readers justified him in adopting high ground. We
allude to the fact of slaveholding by a member of Presbytery. This was
the subject on which a great portion of their controversy turned, and
the one which caused the greatest amount of irritation. This, however,
is a matter of such interest, that we reserve a fuller account of it for
our next chapter.
Two other subjects of
discussion are worthy of notice. The first was the use of Watts’ Psalms.
Those who had adopted them urged the common objections against the
Psalms of David. They represented them as opposed to the spirit of the
New Testament. The imprecations which they contain were particularly
held as indicating the inferior morality of the Old Testament, and as
unfit for Christian worship. He never adopted the extreme view of
denying the lawfulness of using human compositions in the praise of God,
but he justly regarded the Psalms as affording the highest models of
spiritual song, and such imputations he regarded as reflections upon the
word of God. This led him to a thorough examination of the subject, and
to the preparation of a complete Treatise on the Imprecations of the
Psalms. We do not know at what time it was composed, but we find it
referred to in letters written in the early part of 1790 as in existence
previously. This treatise was supposed to have perished with many of his
other papers. We are happy to say that while the present work was going
through the press, it has been discovered,—completely prepared for
publication, and we have now great pleasure in including it among his
remains.
The view which he takes
of the subject is not the usual one. He boldly takes the ground, that
these imprecations are prayers—not however against David’s personal
enemies, but against the impenitent enemies of God, and on the
supposition of their continuing so. The persons against whom David
imprecated might be in one point of view his personal enemies; looking
at them in this light his disposition was to seek nothing but their
good; but viewing them as the irreconcilable enemies of the Most High,
his regard for the honour of God led him to pray for their destruction.
He shows that the same is our duty, because it is the will of God that
his impenitent enemies should be destroyed, and we should concur in his
will and pray that it be accomplished, there being however this
difference between our circumstances and those of David, that while the
latter knew, by revelation, that certain persons were of this character,
we are entirely ignorant who are and shall continue to be such; and
therefore our prayers must be in the most general terms, and not
directed against any particular individuals. We learn also that he
endeavoured-to show, that our Saviour’s language and the practice of the
apostles taught the same lessons. This is not only a very simple view,
but in our opinion unquestionably the correct one; and we think that the
Treatise thus happily still preserved affords evidence of original
powers of thought, and of a thorough examination of the Scriptures, the
more remarkable when we consider that it must have been written before
he was thirty years of age, and when he had a very limited access to
books.
The other subject of
discussion which we deem worthy of notice, was the observance of fasts
enjoined by Government authority. The Antiburghers in the old country
generaly refused to observe these, as they considered that their doing
so would be an acknowledgment of the authority of civil government in
matters of religion, and particularly a recognition of the unscriptural
constitution of church and state established by law in Britain. The
terms in which the proclamation for the observance of such da}Ts, were
till a recent period issued, commanding persons to assemble in their
respective churches and chapels, as they tendered the favour of Almighty
God, and would avert his displeasure, and enjoining the use of a prayer
prepared by the Bishop for the occasion, and even with threats of those
refusing being punished by law, were exceedingly offensive, and fitted
to provoke opposition. One of the Antiburgher party in Colchester
writing to him, speaks thus,
“I suppose you have
before now received his Excellency’s orders by proclamation to keep a
fast upon that Holy day, dedicated to St. Mark, as also a copy of the
Right Rev’d Bishop’s prayer, which you are to read upon pain of being
punished as law directs, for disobedience to the lawful commands of the
best of Governments. Must they not be amazing strong and prevalent
prayers, that are sent up by the force of civil law?”
Those who adhered to
these views strenuously refused to observe such days, and were in the
habit of attending to ordinary business upon them in the most public
manner, to show their resistance to what they regarded as an intrusion
on the part of civil rulers into the province of the church.
After all, when we
consider the spirit of the body in Scotland, at that time, perhaps it is
as well that the union did not take place then. We may judge how such a
step on his part would have been received by them, from the manner in
which they acted regarding a similar step, adopted by the brethren who
had gone to the United States. In the year 1767 the ministers who had
gone from the Antiburgher Synod, having coalesced with the Burgher
brethren, the Synod in Scotland refused to sanction the union, declaring
the terms of it to be “inconsistent with the maintenance of the
testimony among their hands against the course of the separating
brethren,” and when in the following year, they received a letter from
the Rev. D. Telfar, offering to give information regarding the course of
the Presbytery, he was informed in a reply sent to him by the Moderator,
that “ his communication had been received, but that the Synod could not
hold any communication with him, except in the way of receiving
satisfaction from him, with a view to the removal of the censure, under
which he is at present lying, and that as to the terms of agreement
referred to, in his letter, they could not take them into
consideration.”
And again, when the
Seceding ministers in the United Stales united with the brethren of the
Reformed Presbyterian Church, under the name of the Associate Reformed
Church, the Synod, just the year previous to Dr. MacGregor’s arrival
here, passed an act expressing their disapprobation of the conduct of
those brethren, who had “coalesced with ministers of other
denominations, on terms so loose and general as to open the door for the
grossest latitudinarianism.'' They disclaimed all connection with, and
acknowledgment of “the body so constituted/' and they declared the
brethren who had joined it, to be in a state of “apostasy from their
Reformation testimony and their witnessing profession."
In fact the counsels of
the Antiburgher Synod were at this time swayed by Adam Gib, a man of
clear mind, strong intellect, and determined spirit, but a man of high
temper, who held the most rigid sentiments regarding communion, and the
highest views of Ecclesiastical authority. Had Dr. MacGregor at this
time united with the Burgher brethren, he would undoubtedly have been
immediately separated from the fellowship of his brethren, and all
ministerial assistance would have been refused him. But by taking up a
separate position, he was led to send home those importunate
supplications, whieh brought to this country those excellent men, who
were his coadjutors in establishing Presbyterianism iu the Province, and
thus the separation, like that of Paul and Barnabas, tended to the
furtherance of the gospel.
Having thus given as
full a view of this controversy as the facts in our possession enable
us, and as fairly as we are able, we return to his narrative:
“There were so few
houses in Pictou with any accommodations, that I could get no convenient
place for lodging. On the East River there was one house, within
two-and-a-half miles of the place fixed upon for a meeting-house, which
had two fire-places; and here I had to fix, for there was none equal to
it within four miles of the other place of public worship. Still it was
very inconvenient, for the heads of the family had to sit and sleep in
the same room; but I could not better myself. This circumstance fixed my
lot on the East River to this day. After two years I got a house where I
had a room to myself.
“During the whole of
the harvest and the fall I saw no preparation for building any of the
meeting-houses. This discouragement, with the rest, affected me so,
that, if I could have left Pictou, I would have done it, even lute in
the foil I saw little fruit of my labours; still Providence was, in many
respects, favourable. Though public worship had been conducted in the
open air, till we were compelled by the cold to go into a fire house,
yet we were never disturbed by a shower.
“Toward the end of
September the session agreed that there was need of an increase of
elders—two for each river, and one for the harbour. This was intimated
to the congregation, who soon after chose the following persons':—Donald
MacKay, Peter Grant, Robert Marshall, Kenneth Fraser, John MacLean, Hugh
Fraser, and John Patterson. I name them because they were my companions,
my support and comfort, when Pictou was destitute and poor, and I was
without the assistance of a copresbyter. They have all given in their
account, as also the three ordained in Scotland, and I trust they have
done it with joy, and not with grief. They were not ordained till the
next May.
“The upper settlement
of the East River being farther off from the place of public worship
than any other part of the congregation, it was agreed to let them have
sermon in their own settlement three Sabbaths annually, and I agreed to
give them three week days besides. This arrangement continued till a
second minister came to Pictou, when they got more. I saw them the first
time early in October, and on Sabbath they came all to hear with great
joy and wonder; for they had not indulged the hope of ever seeing a
minister in their settlement. They had very poor accommodations. I had
to sleep on a little straw on the floor.”
As already mentioned,
all the settlers on the upper settlement "were Highlanders, most of whom
had served in the American war. Part of them were from the parish of
Urquhart. Having settled but a short time previous to the Doctor’s
arrival, they were of course in poorer circumstances than the other
settlers. At some distance np, the river forms two branches, commonly
called the East and West Branches. Most of the settlers were Protestants
and Presbyterians, but some of them were Roman Catholics. Among these
were the Chisholms on the East Branch, who were from Strathglass. The
father attended the Doctor’s preaching, but never became a decided
Protestant. One son, Archibald, joined the church and lived and died a
consistent Christian life, and so did a sister, Mrs. John MacKenzie of
West River, mother-in-law to William Matheson, Esq. They have left a
large number of descendants, many of whom are most useful and
respectable members of the church. There were also some of that
persuasion about the West Branch, and one or two became Protestants,
when the priest, seeing that they were likely to be lost to the Romish
Church altogether, if they remained there, induced them all to leave.
The rest of the settlers were generally a pious people. Even those who
had served in the army were very different from the common run of
disbanded soldiers. They were decent emigrants, who had been induced to
serve while the war lasted, and from the traditionary information I have
received, it appears that even while in the army they were not
neglectful of their religious duties. At that time as now the army had
its praying centurions and “devout soldiers,” and some of them used to
speak in grateful recollection of the efforts of a Lieut. MacDonald for
their spiritual welfare. Peter Grant, afterward an elder, kept “a
reading,” I believe before Dr. MacGregor came, at all events afterward,
when there was no preaching in the settlement.
The only mode of
travelling to this part of his congregation, was walking along the edge
of the river, and, where they came to a brook, ascending it till they
reached a part where they were able to cross it. In winter, of course,
the travelling was on snow shoes. Sometimes the young men would at that
season of the year go down at the end of the week to beat a track for
him. Toward spring when the snow began to get soft in the middle of the
day, by beating it down, it would be frozen sufficiently hard the next
morning to bear him. On one occasion having arrived at the house of
James MacDonald, the elder, without their having done so, the latter
began exclaiming against them for their neglect. “Oh," said the Doctor,
“you look like an angry man.” Seeing him so contented, the good elder
had to forego his ire.
His first sermon at the
upper settlement was preached at James MacDonald’s intervale under the
shade of a large oak tree, the largest in that whole region. This was
his ordinary place of preaching in summer for some time, though
occasionally he preached at Mr. Charles Macintosh’s, about six miles
farther up, under the shade of some trees, particularly a large elm,
which had been left standing on his farm; and at the West Branch, either
at Mr. Donald Chisholm’s, or James Cameron’s. In winter the preaching
was in private houses. On one occasion when near the conclusion of his
first sermon, the whole floor gave way, and precipitated most of the
audience into the cellar. He himself was standing by the chimney, and
escaped. The whole floor except the spot where he was standing fell in
one body, so that no person was hurt. The only articles of any value in
the cellar were under the part where he stood, so that no loss was
sustained. It was a fine day toward the close of winter, and he preached
the second sermon in the barn.
After a few years a
church was built. It was of logs and situated at Grant’s Lake, to
accommodate the residents on both branches of the river. This continued
to be the usual place of meeting till about the year 1815, when two new
churches were built, the one on the East Branch and the other on the
West.
“On November the 15th
winter set in. We had a few showers of snow before, which melted away;
but the snow of that day continued until the middle of April, and some
of it till May. I was tired of winter before New Year’s Day, but before
March was over, I forgot that it should go away at all. The snow became
gradually deeper, till it was between two and three feet deep; when
women could travel only where a path was made, and men betook themselves
to snow-shoes. We had now to alter the plan of preaching entirely.
People could not sit in a house without fire, and they could not travel
far. I.t was therefore agreed that I should preach two Sabbaths at the
East River, two upon the Harbour, two upon the West River, and two upon
the Middle River, and then renew the circle, till the warm weather
should return. The upper settlement of the East River, being unprovided
with snow shoes, were excluded through the whole winter from all
communication with the rest of the people, as effectually as if they had
belonged to another world, excepting one visit by two young men, who
made a sort of snow-shoes of small tough withes, plaited and interwoven
in snow-shoe frames. This circulating plan of preaching was no little
inconvenience to me. For six weeks in eight I was from home, almost
totally deprived of my books and of all accommodation for study, often
changing my lodging, and exposed to frequent and excessive cold. But it
had this advantage, that it gave me an easier opportunity of examining
the congregation than I could otherwise have had; for I got these duties
performed in each portion between the two Sabbaths on which I was there.
“I resolved not to
confine my visitations to Presbyterians, but to include all, of every
denomination, who would make me welcome; for I viewed them as sheep
without a shepherd. The purport of my visitations was, to awaken them to
a sight of their sinful and dangerous state, to direct them to Christ,
to exhort them to be diligent to grow in religious knowledge, and to set
up and maintain the worship of God in the family and closet morning and
evening. I did not pass a house, and though I was not cordially welcome
by all, my visits were productive of more good than I expected; and I
trust they were the means of bringing to Christ several who were not
Presbyterians. In the course of this visitation, I met with a number who
had maintained family and closet prayers almost regularly. Every one,
however, except Robert Marshall alone, acknowledged occasional neglects.
Numbers readily expressed their purpose henceforth punctually to comply
with the directions they received, and expressed great thankfulness for
them: numbers more did the same, but with fear; and only in consequence
of being strongly urged. Others positively refused: —some, because they
did not esteem it a duty; others, because, though it was a duty, they
were not capable of doing it. This course of visitation was of great
advantage to many of the settlers. It made them resolve on serving the
Lord; and they never drew back. I hope many of them are now glorified.
It was also of no little advantage to myself. I began to see that my
labours were not altogether in vain. I found more friends to the gospel
than I expected. I found some under much concern about their eternal
happiness, lamenting their sinful and miserable condition, particularly
their ignorance and negligence, and misimprovement of time; anxious to
find the narrow way, and very thankful for direction. They informed me
of notes of the sermons which affected them, and of the various workings
which they occasioned in their minds. I found, also, that they were not
inattentive to the Scriptures. Many passages were recited to me, with a
view to ascertain whether they had understood them correctly. These
things cheered my heart; and even with respect to such as were not at
all affected by my instructions, I began to be less discouraged, because
time might bring a blessing to them also.
“But there were a set
of profligates, at the head of whom were the gentlemen of the army above
mentioned, whose enmity to the gospel grew fast, and in a short time
became outrageous.
Before the end of
winter some of them threatened to shoot me, and burn the house in which
I lodged. I may here say all that I have to say of them, and be quit of
them. Two things exasperated them against me—-first, Some of them who
had their wives in Scotland lived with other women here; and some of
them lived with other men’s wives, whose husbands were in Scotland. I
spoke to them concerning the irregularity of their conduct, and
prevailed upon one of them to reform; but the rest were hardened. It was
not, however, anything that I said that exasperated them. Before I came,
scarcely any person but Robert Marshall condemned them; but now, when
people began to receive the gospel, many reprobated their conduct in the
plainest language, as utterly inconsistent with the law of God and
Christianity. I had to bear the blame of all these reproofs, and the
uneasiness which they caused. Secondly, The half-pay officers intended
and expected to exercise nearly the same authority over the men after
they were disbanded which they had done before, and for a time succeeded
wonderfully. But time, intercourse with the other settlers, and
doubtless also an increase of Christian knowledge, induced the men to
withdraw their subjection. Of this also I had to bear the blame. Indeed,
they counted me the cause of almost all evil, and thought that the place
could not be right till I was banished out of it. Next winter they held
a meeting with a view to send me bound to the governor, expecting their
influence with him to be such, that their mere accusations would procure
my banishment. But one of the gentlemen present, after a good deal of
consultation, gave them Gamaliel’s advice to the council of the Jews,
with which they thought proper to comply, and so dispersed. They
continued, however, for seven years pests and plagues to the
congregation, particularly circulating the most mischievous lies they
could devise. But they ran fast to poverty and destruction, so that
scarcely one of them remained at the end of that period. Two of them
were drowned ; one died in the poor-house in Halifax, of a disease not
the most honourable; another was found dead iu a stable, hung by the
belly to one of the horse tackle hooks. It was supposed that he had gone
up to sleep on the hay drunk, and that, having fallen down, the hook
caught him.
“Another cut his
throat; but I trust he was a brand plucked out of the burning. Divine
Providence would have it, that his cue. which was large, should lie
alongside of his throat, and prevent the desperate cut from being fatal.
In a moment he became penitent. He was himself a physician, and his
seduced companion being at hand, he speedily gave her his best
directions for a cure, and sent for me to come and see him.
O the power of
conscience! I was before the most hated of men, but now the most
desired. I went immediately, and soon found that he had great need of
instruction. Though he had great anxiety and perplexity of mind about
his future state, he was wofully ignorant of the odiousness of sin in
the sight of God, and of the enmity of the carnal mind against him; and
equally so of the spiritual beauty and purity of Christ’s salvation, and
of the gracious manner in which it is conferred. I had to instruct him
like a child. I set before him as well as I could the evil of sin, and
the love, grace, and power of Christ as a Saviour, and prayed several
times for the Saviour’s compassion to his soul, and for God’s blessing
upon the means of grace he granted him lo enjoy. I left him with a
mixture of hope and fear; for though he was very thankful for
instruction, and for his being spared to bear it, yet he seemed slower
in understanding it than I expected one in his situation would be. As he
recovered, I had frequent opportunities of seeing him, but still thought
him slow in his progress. As his former extravagance had brought him to
great poverty, one of the elders, in pure compassion, took him to his
own house, where he lived about a year, and where he enjoyed the
privilege of Christian instruction in a special manner. The elder’s
opinion of him coincided with mine. He grew but slowly. As there were
too few people, and too few diseases in Pictou then to provide a living
for a physician, he left it and went home to his friends, who were able
to provide for him. I had afterwards a letter (and but one) from him,
containing an affectionate remembrance of the kindness of the Pictou
people toward him, especially the elder’s and mine, and expressing his
earnest desire and hope that thenceforward he might be enabled to walk
humbly with his God. I had also a letter from a brother of his, a pious
minister, I believe, in New England, expressing great gratitude for my
kindness and attention to his brother in his extremity, and confident
hopes of his growth and perseverance in grace. On the whole, I trust he
was a brand plucked out of the burning, and if he was, he will be for
ever a remarkable trophy of divine grace. I am sorry that I have no
evidence of the penitence of the unhappy victim of his seduction, who,
in her turn, by her extravagance, reduced him to that poverty and want
which drove him to the desperate act related above. She too left Pictou,
but left it for the purlieu of one of the haunts of vice in Halifax,
which ‘are the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death.
“A number of the
profligates who had belonged to the army remained with us till the
beginning of the war in 1793. Then the governor raised a regiment to
help on the war. A recruiting party came to Pictou, and our drunken
vagabonds, almost to a man, readily embraced the opportunity to
re-enlist, that they might again enjoy the miserable life they had
before led in the army. In a few months we got clear of them, and I
believe not one individual of those who were sober and industrious
enlisted. I looked upon Pictou as purged, and hoped I would never see it
polluted again. Little did I expect to see some of those I baptized as
polluted as these. By-and-by we met with sources of corruption which we
did not foresee.
“The want of mills
proved a great impediment in my course of visitation, for it obliged
every family to have a hand-mill for its own use. As soon as I sat down
the mill was set agoing and though it was but a hand-mill, it made such
a noise as to mar conversation, and most commonly kept either the male
or the female head of the family from all share in it. But for this
circumstance I could often have visited two families for one that I did
visit. Grinding on the hand-mill was so laborious that it was let alone
till necessity impelled to it. This was the occasion of saving much
wheat, for many a meal was made without bread, on account of the trouble
of grinding. Ten years afterwards proper mills were erected, and the
flour which used to be spared and sent to market, was sent to the mill
and eaten. The women in general learned to make good bread, and people
lived better; but they wanted wheat for the market.
“The ice was a great
convenience during winter in all my travels, especially in my
visitations, as it removed all obstructions from water, and enabled me
to go straight from one house to another, whatever brook, creek, or
other water might intervene. Strangers cannot easily conceive what an
advantage this is in a new settlement, placed wholly along the sides of
the waters, without roads or bridges. It is extremely troublesome to
travel along shore, round every point and bay, and up the side of every
brook to the head of the tide and back again, while even the shore is
often encumbered with rocks, bogs, and fallen trees.”
While the ice was no
doubt a convenience, travelling upon it was sometimes attended with
considerable danger. Among his memoranda we find the words “ fright on
the ice,” and we have heard of several occasions of his being in peril
of his life in this way. The danger may arise in various ways. One
source is from snow-storms, suddenly rising when persons are at some
distance from the shore. The track is soon covered up, the shore cannot
be seen—the sun is concealed—and the person gets blinded with drift, and
losing his course, wanders hither and thither, and sometimes perishes.
At present, it is customary to place a row of bushes a few rods apart,
along the principal lines of travelling, to guide the traveller, but in
those times this expedient was unknown. We have heard of his being in
danger, in this way, especially on one occasion while on Merigomish
Harbour in company with Thomas Fraser, the Elder. It came on a
snow-storm, in which they lost their way, and when they reached the
shore they were nearly exhausted.
Another source of
danger is from the ice being: weak, as it will be in spring or fall, or
as it sometimes is, even in winter, in particular spots from local
causes, such as mussel-beds, &c. We have heard also of his being in
danger in this way. On one occasion, crossing, we believe, Pictou
Harbour in the fall of the year, the ice at mid-channel began to bend
with the weight of himself and his companions. They separated and got
down on their hands and knees so as to cover as large a surface as
possible, and moved forward as rapidly as they could. The new ice formed
in the fall has considerable elasticity, unlike the ice in spring, which
has begun to decay by the action of the sun. And this circumstance saved
them, for before they got across, the ice had so far yielded that
considerable water was upon it. On one occasion, perhaps the same,
having arrived in Pictou to preach, the people beheld his arrival with
actual amazement They could scarcely believe it possible that he had
crossed on the ice in the state it was. On being assured that he had
actually done so, the reply was, “Well it must have been your faith that
brought you across.”
It must not be supposed
that he manifested anything like fool-hardiness in rushing into danger
unnecessarily. But when he had an appointment to preach or perform other
ministerial duty, he considered it as forming a call in Providence, and
he would undergo some risk in order to fulfil such an engagement,
trusting iu the protection of his heavenly Father. He has passed through
dangers in order to preach, that he would not venture into to return
home. On one occasion having crossed Pictou Harbour on the ice, his
companions asked him after preaching, if he wished to return home. His
reply was, “No, the ice is not fit.” “It is as fit as when we came
across.” “Yes, but we had then a call to come; but it is not necessary
for us to go back just now, we can stay where we are in the meantime.”
He reasoned in the same way in other circumstances. We have heard of his
being in danger in crossing Pictou Harbour in a canoe. It was on a
Sabbath morning, and so rough that those who were with him were
unwilling to attempt crossing, but he encouraged them, saying that it
was in a good cause, and their Master would take care of them. They got
over safely after being exposed to considerable danger. After preaching,
on their asking him if he wished to return, he replied, “ No, we have no
call to go.” The people came to regard him as under the care of a
special Providence, and to consider themselves as safe where he felt
called to go. On one occasion many years after, he came on a stormy day
to Donald MacDougall, who established the first ferry across the Harbour
and asked him to ferry him across. MacDougall replied that it was very
stormy, but he would try. He immediately got ready his boat and ferried
him across safely. But he said afterward, that there was not another
person living, with whom he would have ventured to attempt crossing on
that day. The Doctor, however, did not understand from MacDougall’s
reply that he considered it so dangerous, or he would not have asked
him.
“By the time I got
through the visitation, I was much encouraged, compared with my former
deep despondence. I found most of the people affectionate and friendly,
some of them exceedingly so, being persuaded that they obtained saving
benefit by the very first sermon I preached. I found many of them
willing to receive instruction and advice, and greatly regretting their
ignorance and their past negligence. Besides, I met with more piety and
knowledge than I expected, so that I began to hope that my labour would
not be in vain in the Lord.
“When April came the
sun began to show his power in dissolving the snow and the ice, whose
dominion had continued so long that I had almost forgotten that summer
would come. Before April was ended, the harbour was completely clear of
the ice; and on the 6th of May, the day on which the elders were
ordained, I saw the last patch of snow for that season. The boats and
canoes were then launched and prepared for summer employment; for they
were our horses, which carried most of us to sermon, and every other
business. Now came on the spring work, and every hand that could help
the farmer had plenty of employment. From the beginning of May till the
middle of June was the time for ploughing, and sowing the various kinds
of grain, and planting the potatoes. But there were few ploughs in
Pictou. All the later settlers had to prepare the ground for the seed
with hand-hoes; for the roots and stumps prevent the use of the plough
till they are rotten. All the potato land was cleared from the wood, and
planted with hoes. The trees were cut down in winter, and cross-cut, so
as to be fit to be rolled in heaps for being burned. Rolling is heavy
work, and often requires four or five men with handovers; on which
account the neighbours gather to it in parties. The Americans are
amazingly dexterous at this work, rolling huge logs along, launching
them to the right or left, turning them round a stump in the way, or
raising one end over it, and heaving it up on the pile. The ashes of the
great quantity of timber which grows upon the land make good manure for
the first crops—a most merciful arrangement of Providence for the poor
settler, who has to sow and plant among stumps and spreading roots,
which often occupy one-third of the ground. The first two crops are
generally good. No wheat was sown till the second week in May, nor
potatoes planted till the first of June. Heaping was from the middle of
August to that of November. The potatoes were raised in October. Spring
comes now somewhat earlier, and harvest generally comes all at once.
Grain sown at eight days’ distance will often ripen simultaneously. I
have known good wheat reaped in Pictou on the same day in August that it
was sown in May; but this is very seldom.
“In June I received a
long letter from the Rev. John Buist in Greenock, being the first word I
heard from Scotland since I left it. It contained much news, both
ecclesiastical and political, and was to me like life from the dead.
Looking on myself as an exile from the world, and especially from
Scotland, the reading of this letter revived all my tender feelings for
my native country, my relations and friends, especially the ministers
whom I left behind. At the same time I had a letter from my father, with
the news of my mother’s death. Thus I was taught to rejoice with
trembling; yet, it helped to reconcile me to my lot. Reluctance to part
with my mother was one of my objections against coming to Nova Scotia;
and now I saw that staying at home would not have secured me from
parting with her. For this event I was partly prepared by a dream, which
I had at the time of her death. The dream is not worth relating to
others; but it was such a warning to me, that I really expected to hear
by the first letter of the death of a near relation. This expectation
reconciled me more readily to the bereavement.”
The dream to which he
here refers was that he had seen his father’s house on fire, and the
remarkable circumstance about it is, that he had it on the. very night
his mother died. In writing about it to his friends in Scotland he said,
that he believed that God sometimes spoke to men in a dream of the
night. It may perhaps by some be regarded as superstition, but it is a
fact that he sometimes regarded dreams, those of them at all events
which appeared as any way remarkable. Among his u memorabilia” the
following occurs in short-hand, “Dreamed that I was busily engaged in
quenching my father’s little house on fire.” We have heard of more than
one instance, where he mentioned dreams which he had, as leading him to
expect good or evil tidings, and of his connecting his dreams with
events that followed.
The above paragraph
exhibits one of the privations of his lot, which a heart like his, alive
to the tenderest feelings toward kindred and country, must have felt
very severely,—the little intercourse he was permitted to enjoy even by
letter with his native land, and his friends there. He had left Scotland
in June of the previous year, so that a whole year had now elapsed
before he had received any word from his friends. The missionary on the
most remote and solitary isle of the sea is scarcely so shut out from
intercourse with the world as this. Of his friends and acquaintances
whom he left in Scotland, scarcely ever did he see the face of any in
the flesh. He never returned to visit them, none of them visited him,
and we know of none who removed hither. He was probably, however, never
as long again without some communication with his friends. Usually he
received packages, at least twice a year. There was mail communication
from Falmouth to Halifax oftener, but such was the class of vessels
employed, so badly constructed, so liable to shipwreck, and so fatal to
human life, that they went in the Navy by the name of coffins; and the
mode of communication usually adopted, was by the vessels which came out
spring and fall for timber. In fact, these were the two special seasons
of writing and receiving letters. Then a few years after the war broke
out, and continued with slight interruption for more than twenty years,
rendering all communication with the mother country difficult and
dangerous.
But the more rare such
communications were, the more were they valued. There was scarcely such
a thing at that time as a religious periodical, to inform him of what
was doing in the church abroad, and he was indebted almost entirely to
his correspondents for ecclesiastical intelligence from Scotland. In Mr.
Buist he had a faithful friend and valuable correspondent. "We have
before us several letters, which form a complete record of the events
which had occurred affecting both church and state during the months
previous, together with the personal and family history of ministers of
his acquaintance. Such letters to him in his solitude were as “cold
waters to a thirsty soul.” He had other correspondents such as the Bev.
James Robertson, of Kilmarnock, the Rev. Alexander Pringle, of Perth,
the Rev. James Barlas, of Crieff, and some years later, the Rev. Samuel
Gilfillan, of Comrie, but Mr. Buist was the most valued. This
correspondence on both sides was a delightful exhibition of brotherly
love and Christian sympathy. His letters to them were highly valued.
Some years afterward portions of them were published in the religious
periodicals of the day, and have thus been preserved; but we are not
aware that there was any such periodical at that time in Scotland. And
thus all his letters written during the first few years of his ministry
have perished. But from the letters received in reply, we learn
something of the nature of their contents. We learn that he poured into
the ear of friendship the tale of his trials, his labours, and his
success—that he sought the opinion and counsel of fathers and brethren
on subjects of difficulty. We find him requesting their views on
difficult passages of Scripture, or on perplexing questions of theology,
but especially pleading for ministerial help, and sometimes for a
helpmeet for him; while we notice his love for the flowers of his native
land in a request to send him some daisy seed. On the other hand, in
their letters they cheer and encourage him in his labours and
privations, rejoicing in his joys and weeping over his trials, and
sometimes accompanied them with substantial expressions of their
sympathy in books or pamphlets recently published.
“The session appointed
that July the 11th should be observed by all under their inspection, as
a day of humiliation for sin, and prayer for the favour and grace of God
to the congregation, specifying a number of plain causes and reasons for
the appointment. As the preaching could only accommodate one side of the
congregation, the other complained for want of it; to remedy which the
session agreed that there should be another humiliation day in the fall,
and the preaching on the other side of the congregation. This example
has been almost invariably followed ever since. The same custom is
observed, I believe, through all the New England States.
“This humiliation day,
the first ever observed publicly in Pictou, was kept very differently by
different people. Some observed it with due attention and solemnity,
sincerely seeking, I believe, to humble themselves under the mighty hand
of God; and they received from him the favour and grace which they
supplicated. But many others, especially those who were not within reach
of hearing sermon (I allude not to the profligate), did not keep it, and
did not know how to keep it. Some of them had never seen such a thing,
and had no idea of it. Before the next humiliation day came round,
occasion was taken to explain to them its nature and end, and that it
should be observed with the solemnity and sanctity of a Sabbath; and
ever after, so far as I know, they did so keep it.
“During this month the
men were chiefly engaged in building the two new meeting-houses; but,
instead of employing contractors to build them, they agreed to divide
the work into a number of lots, and appointed a party of themselves to
every lot. One party cut the logs and hauled them to the site; another
hewed them and laid them in their place; a third provided boards for the
roofs and floors; a fourth provided the shingles; those who were joiners
were appointed to make the doors and windows; and those who did not
choose to work provided the glass and the nails. Moss (fag) was stuffed
between the logs, to keep out the wind and rain; but neither of the
houses was lined with boards or ceiled, neither was one of them seated,
otherwise than by logs laid where seats should be. Public worship was
conducted in the open air all this summer and part of harvest, till the
churches were finished; and we had the same kind Providence preserving
us from rain and tempest as we had last year; but no sooner were the
houses built than great rain came on the Sabbath.
“Such were the first
two churches of Pictou, and for a while they had no pulpits, purely
because they could make a shift without them; and when they were made,
they were not of mahogany, but of the white pine of Pictou. However,
this mean exterior did not prevent the gospel from being preached and
heard with profit and comfort.
“During summer the
session had several conversations about dispensing the sacrament of the
Supper, but I got it delayed for this year. I had dispensed the
ordinance of baptism often, sometimes indeed with fear and trembling,
but I could not prevail upon myself to dispense the Lord’s Supper;
partly because I believed that not many of the people were prepared, but
chiefly because I thought it too heavy a burden first to converse with
the candidates one by one, and then to go through all the customary
services in both languages; so it was put off.
“Preaching in two
languages, and in two places so far distant from one another, created me
many difficulties, for everything I wished the whole people to know
needed to be told them four different times, viz., in the two languages
and the two places. Though I preached two sermons every Sabbath, yet the
people heard but one sermon in two weeks, except those who understood
both languages. Even this circumstance was sometimes productive of
trouble; for some who were backward to support the gospel, insisted that
they who understood both languages should pay a double share of the
stipend. Sometimes the Highlanders complained that I did not give them
their due of the public services, but the rest complained that they got
too much; and it was impossible to carry always with such an even baud
as to please both parties. Sometimes they contended for precedence. The
Gaelic was most prevalent on the East River, and the English on the West
River and Harbour. This decided that at the former public worship should
begin in the Gaelic, and in the English at the latter. At other
meetings, however, little bickerings continued for some time but they
learned to yield to one another, as they saw that no partiality was
intended. At examinations and marriages I made it a rule to speak to
those who knew both languages in that which they preferred. In one
instance only of marriage had I to speak in both languages, telling the
man his duties and engagements in English, and the woman hers in Gaelic.
How they managed to court or to converse afterwards I know not; but they
declared to me, and the neighbours confirmed it, that they could hardly
speak a single word of one another’s language.”
This jealousy between
English and Gaelic people is very apt to arise wherever they are united
in the same society. Hugh Miller, in his “ Schools and Schoolmasters,”
has given a graphic description of the working of it in his native town,
and something similar has been exhibited in the county of Pictou. The
Doctor had at times some difficulty in repressing such feelings. But he
dealt out even-handed justice to them, and he was equally beloved by
both. Two or three anecdotes illustrative of this may be interesting.
Having preached on one occasion in English at the Middle River, the
people requested him to preach the second sermon in the same language,
as most, if not all present, understood it. He told those who made the
request to go round among those assembled and see if there were any
there who had no English, and if there were none he would comply with
their request. They did so, and returned to say that there was just one
old woman, who had no English. “Oh then,” said the Doctor, “We must have
the other sermon in Gaelic.” He added that he would act in the same way
with the English under similar circumstances, and of this an example
occurred on another occasion. Being at the upper settlement of the East
River, he was asked to preach both sermons in Gaelic. lie said that if
all present understood it, he would. He was told that there was just one
person, a stranger, who did not understand Gaelic, and he did not seem
to care about preaching. he replied, “Oh, he has a soul to be saved,—and
who knows but this sermon might be the means of saving that soul and
making it happy to all eternity?” On another occasion having preached
two sermons in Gaelic, he found some persons who did not understand that
language, and preached a third sermon for them in English.
Still his feelings were
very warm toward his Highland countrymen, which he exhibited in so
simple a way as putting his contribution at a sacramental collection
into the plate with the Gaelic, saying in private to some of the
Highlanders, that he did not like to see their collection far behind the
English.
“This summer many of
the Highlanders wrote, or rather caused to be written, letters to their
relations in Scotland, informing them that now they had the gospel here
in purity, inviting them to come over, and telling them that a few years
would free them from their difficulties. Accordingly, next summer a
number of them found their way hither. Next year letters were sent home
with the same information, and brought more. This circumstance turned
the current of emigration toward Pictou, so that almost all the
emigrants to Nova Scotia settled in Pictou, till it was full.
"As to the success of
my ministrations this summer, I had more reason to be content than to
complain. People in general attended public ordinances diligently and
attentively. There was much outward reformation; and, I doubt not, some
believers were added to the Lord. On considering, as maturely as I
could, the circumstances of the people, I thought it my duty to sound
the alarm of the law in their ears. Accordingly I preached a course of
sermons on the Ten Commandments, with the view of showing them the
holiness of God, their duty. and their fearful condition under the curse
for breaking it; the impossibility of justification before God by their
own works, and, of course, the necessity of fleeing to Christ, the hope
set before them; and, finally, the faith, love, gratitude, and obedience
they owed to Christ for his obedience and suffering under the curse. I
afterwards found that these sermons were not in vain.” |