JOHN DUNCAN was
constitutionally religious. He threw into religion the same ardour as into
science, his enthusiasm in Theology being as marked as in Botany or
Astronomy. Of the deep and genuine piety of the man, all that knew him with
any intimacy speak in the highest terms. As Mr. Lamont of Mosshead, who was
impressed with the high tone of his inner life more than with anything else
in his character and studies, expressed it, "Many a man got a good character
from others, but to none would I be so willing to say `amen' as to John's."
On this point, from those that had any means of forming an opinion, there is
but one voice, and that is all the stronger the more intimate the relations
between them.
His special phase of
religious feeling was that of the old Covenanting type, inherited from his
mother, whose ancestors, he was always proud to tell, had borne the
Covenanting name of Burley, and had fought against "the bluidy Claver'se."
It was strengthened by the early deep, impressions gathered at Dunnottar,
and was increased by his extensive reading of the terrible history of Scotch
persecuting times. In all things John undertook or studied, as has been
abundantly seen, he was intense, and on the the religious side, even more so
than on any other; reaching deeper as the religious faculties do into the
central forces of life. If occasion had required, John would have once more
taken to the moors and mountains, like his ancestors at Aird's Moss and
Drumclog, to put down ecclesiastical tyranny of every kind; and, if need had
been, he would have cheerfully died at the stake for his opinions—there is
no doubt of it.
His historical and inherited
sympathies inspired him with an almost fierce hate of priestcraft in all
forms, especially as Prelacy and Roman Catholicism—being, as one expressed
it, "horrid at them." While arguing with a friend, on one occasion, on
Popery and Erastianism, he insisted, in the spirit of the old Scot and the
ancient Jew, that as it was impossible to convert the Catholics, they should
be shot. "You surely would not take the gun to them, John?" replied his
friend; "should you not try preaching and reasoning with them?" "Weel, weel,"
said John; "but if they winna hear, what then? There's naething for 't but
shootin'!" In all these prelatic and papal antipathies, Duncan was merely a
representative of the once universal feeling in Scotland, scorched deep into
the national heart by its bloody religious history. He retained, however,
more of the strength and gloom of the old Cameronian days than most, and was
an example of survival, into modern broader religious times, of the old
Covenanting, red-handed period.
In this respect, he was a
great contrast to his friend Charles Black, whose womanly tenderness made
him look upon the use of the sword in religion as not of Christ, though
wielded in his name; and who could not hate Catholics or even atheists,
because he loves all men, as he loves all God's creatures. Their arguments
on such subjects were consequently frequent, and on John's side almost
fierce, so dead-earnest was he in what he identified at once with patriotism
and piety; and it was then only that they ever came near to inflicting pain
on each other, if not to quarrelling, for these subjects have caused
division between friends, families, and nations, when nothing else could
have done it.
With such sympathies and such
opposition to all State interference in religious affairs, it would not have
been difficult to predict what side John would take in the long and fiery
disputes that culminated in the Disruption of '43. He became a strenuous
anti-patronage, anti-Erastian advocate, a keen sympathizer with the
dissentients, and an ardent adherent of the party that formed the Free
Church of Scotland.
The history of the remarkable
struggle that issued in the ecclesiastical revolution of 1843, in which four
hundred and seventy-four ministers of the Established Church separated from
her communion in one day, need here be referred to only as far as John
Duncan and his friends were concerned in it, for it has been often written
from all points of view. It was a period of intense religious and social
excitement ; as John, speaking of it forty years after, said, "Oh, it was a
terrible time!" In the Vale of Alford, John lived near some of the scenes
which are now historic in connection with it. At Netherton, he followed its
movements with the deepest interest, visiting the places where forced
intrusions occurred, and keeping himself conversant with its abundant and
fleeting literature—his collection of pamphlets and books then issued on the
subject being unusually large, especially for a poor man.
Along with his friend Charles
Hunter, the shoemaker, a strong non-intrusionist like himself, he walked
through deep snow all the way to Marnock in Strathbogie, in the severe
winter of 1841, when the suspended seven of that famous presbytery inducted
Mr. Edwards, on the 21st of January, at the point of the bayonet. He long
preserved a copy of the supplement to the Aberdeen Banner, which contained
an extended account of the case, and which he often used to read to others,
to show the untenableness of the position of the intrusionists. He also went
north to the famous induction at Culsalmond, where the minister was settled
with the aid of policemen and other guardians Of the peace.
The controversies in the
weaver's and shoemaker's shops at Netherton now became hotter than ever, and
the contests between the opposing parties, especially between the weaver and
the eloquent tailor, Sandy Cameron, the representatives of the contending
factions, more vehement than before. John's advocacy of non-intrusion
principles, even at Whitehouse, was so earnest and continuous that Charles
Black, who belonged to the moderate party, had great difficulty in
withstanding his persistency, from pure sympathy, in spite of his
convictions. At first he tried to reply to John's arguments, but in vain.-
Then he resorted to banter to win him to silence, by quoting some of the
doggerel rhymes born of the excitements of the day, such as:
"Free Kirkers neither curse
nor ban;
But cheat and lee wi' ony man,"
—a skittish allusion to the
sanctity claimed by the dissenters. But banter on such important subjects
was a grievance with John, and at last they had to agree, for the sake of
peace and friendship, to let theology become a moot subject between them.
Aberdeenshire was one of the
strongholds of the Establishment, and the Vale of Alford was as conservative
as any part of the county. As John used to say, "they were terrible bun' up
to the Establishment." The keenness of feeling between the adherents of the
two parties in the district was so great that, for a long time, as he
remarked, "they had eneuch ado to speak to each other;" and this was the
case all over the country for many years. In the whole presbytery of Alford,
not a single clergyman left the Church except one, the Rev. Harry Nicol,
then a schoolmaster and now Free Church minister at Lumsden in Auchindore.
In the parish of Tough, the popularity of the clergyman, the late Mr. Gillan
of Alford, was such that very few seceded, and of these only one elder,
Moses Copland, the farmer of Boghead. The opposition of the Aberdeenshire
proprietors was so great that, in most places, they would not grant sites
for the new Free churches, and even, in many cases, threatened eviction to
seceding tenants. It was the same in the Vale, and the Free Church
congregation of Tough and Keig long worshipped in the barns of Boghead and
of Tillykeerie, where Charles Hunter's father lived, on the slopes south of
Netherton. Meetings were held in various parts of the district by the
friends of the Free Church, which were addressed by several of their most
popular orators. Amongst others came Dr. Guthrie, who held a large gathering
at the inn of Muggart Haugh, on the Leochel, which John attended, as he did
all others far and near; for he would walk any distance to see and hear a
popular speaker on the side he had espoused.
To organize the new seceders
round Tough, there arrived, in the Disruption year, a worthy man, the Rev.
William P. Smith, who has been rendered famous through his remarkable son,
W. Robertson Smith, recently expelled from a professorship in the church his
father then entered. The prospects of the Free Church in the Vale of Alford
were long very dark. For a considerable time, Mr. Smith was obliged to
preach to his people in the barns above Tough, till Sir Andrew Leith Hay
allowed them a site at Brindy, above the church of Keig, where they erected
a wooden house in which they worshipped for some time. At last, the late
Lord Forbes granted them the present beautiful site between Whitehouse and
the Bridge of Don, where the existing church and manse, tasteful,
picturesque and comfortable, were erected amidst surrounding trees, with
Cairn William and Benachie behind, and there Mr. Smith was ordained in 1845.
Religious activity amongst
the small band of seceders was very great, and unwonted life and zeal were
infused into all church work and worship, in both preachers and people. John
Duncan was one of the most earnest labourers in the cause. Prayer meetings
were held at many places before and after the Disruption. In these he took
his part along with other laymen, in reading and expounding scripture—very
creditably, as one of his hearers tells, backward though he was in public
appearances. His first attempt at public prayer at Tillykeerie was not very
successful, however earnest; his attitude, words, and utterance, in this
unwonted exercise, being such as to render the suppression of risible
emotion on the part of his auditors extremely difficult. But John was not
alone amongst his brother laymen in bordering on the ludicrous in such
trying circumstances. One of his friends, a farmer who took a very active
part in Free Church affairs in Tough, remarked on one occasion, when a woman
was publicly rebuked in the congregation, that "he never felt sorrier in his
life for onybody than when the minister cam doon oot o' the poopit to
circumcise her," meaning, good man, to admonish her!
John was one of the founders,
in 1844, of what was. called a "Church Defence Association" in Tough, to
help in the foundation of churches throughout the country, with Charles
Hunter as secretary, and himself as one of the most active collectors of
funds. His collecting book still exists, containing about sixty names, with
contributions from four-pence to four shillings and sixpence a month, the
highest weekly sum being four shillings. John put himself down for fourpence
a week, his small but willing mite, offered "out of his poverty," but valued
as such by the Master of the temple.
John's churchism was not mere
combative fervour or theological dogmatism. It was based on conviction, and
was truly religious. When I asked him why he seceded when Charles Black and
others whose opinion he valued, remained in the church, he replied, "Because
I thought it was richt, and because the best ministers gaed awa wi't." He
was of opinion that many more would have followed, "had they no feared for
the laird, frae whom they had their grund." Like all over-enthusiastic men,
his fault was, at that time at least, that he would hardly allow that his
opponents might have as deep convictions as himself, and think themselves in
the right as much as he did. But when the heat of that controversy died out,
the strength of which we can now scarcely realize, John became broader and
more tolerant, as have even the bitterest of both parties. He thought that
in the Old church "they were na sae wed l tellt it;" that is, what was held
to be evangelical doctrine was less firmly and unhesitatingly preached there
than in the Free; and so far he was no doubt right.
The Moderatism of
Aberdeenshire at that time was cold and worldly, and was wanting in the
earnestness and reality that should be the soul of all vital religion, which
certainly then characterised the new body more than the old, and by which
the Free Church has done itself and the Establishment great good. Though
this good has not been by any means unmixed, the Disruption of '43 was a
great event, for which both parties should be thankful, and of which
Scotland has reason to be proud.
Duncan's attendance at church
was marked by the greatest regularity, and as one that knew him well says,
"that day was a bad one when he was not to be seen walking to church, clean
and tidy, dressed in a suit of his own weaving. His errand at church," he
declares, "was not to see and be seen, but to worship, and to hear the
sermon, of which, with his excellent memory, he brought a large part home
with him. His religion was real and no hypocrisy, and I can see him now," he
continues, "holding his well-worn pocket Bible very near his eyes, as he sat
reverently in his accustomed seat in church."
He remained in connection
with the Free Church of Keig till he left Netherton for Auchleven again, in
1849. The Rev. Mr. Smith, his pastor during that time, in writing to the
author, regrets that his now failing memory makes it impossible for him to
recall any details of his intercourse with the man. "I retain, "he says, "a
quite distinct impression of his personal appearance. He was slow of speech,
somewhat reserved, and altogether a man not likely to disclose his inner
self to any but the most intimate acquaintances, if even to such. I hope,"
he continues, "you will ascribe the barrenness of my reply to its true
cause—sheer inability, and not at all to any reluctance to bear a part in
paying tribute to a man of singular modesty and untiring perseverance in the
search after truth." On ceasing connection with this congregation, he
received a certificate, dated May 29th and signed by the minister, of being
in full communion with the church. This says that " he had long resided in
that neighbourhood and borne an excellent character."
John continued attached to
the Free Church all his days. After he settled down at Droughsburn, in 1852,
he used to attend the Free church at Cushnie. The Rev. George Williams, now
of the Free church at Thornhill, near Stirling, who knew John from boyhood
and appreciated him as a man, speaking of his later religious life, says,
"He was a firm Free churchman to the last. Although the Free church was in
another parish, and a mile farther from Droughsburn than the other, besides
being very far from popular as a place of worship, yet he came to the little
kirk on the moor, good day and bad. He sat before us in church, and seemed
to be always remarkably reverent and attentive. His religion was of the
retiring Scotch type, that, like the violet, keeps itself out of sight; he
never wore it on his sleeve. But I never heard even the most intolerant
express any doubt as to his piety."
Throughout life, John
regularly engaged in religious exercises before retiring to rest, sometimes
with others, but generally alone, acccording to the good old Scotch habit,
which is calculated to cherish higher life.
His study of religion and
theology was as thorough and intelligent as of the other subjects he
prosecuted, so that he could give, above most men, "a reason for the faith
that was in him." His religious books included "Matthew Henry's Bible,"
bound in full calf; "Matthew Henry on Prayer;" "Brown's Dictionary of the
Bible;" "Stackhouse's History of the Bible," in two handsome volumes; "Cassell's
Biblical Educator;" and "The Trees and Plants of Scripture,"—thus applying
his science to the interpretation of the sacred book. For the history of his
native land and church, and their gallant struggles for liberty and
religion, he possessed "Scots Worthies," by John Howe, a fine large copy;
"The Cloud of Witnesses," and the cognate work, "Foxe's Book of Martyrs,"
once found in every cottage in the land; the "History of Scotland," in two
large volumes; and the "Ten Years' Conflict," which gives the story of the
religious contest culminating in 1843.
As was his custom' in all
things, he read and digested these books so thoroughly that their ideas and
facts became all his own, and were fully grasped. He could thus speak of the
actors in the dramas, their deeds and words, with the realism of everyday
life and the known familiarity of dear friends. Melanchthon, for instance,
whom he used to naive "Meelaseethian," was one of his heroes, standing
higher in his estimation than even Knox. Luther he. thought greatly of He
was once talking with Mr. Williams about the great German, when he wound up
the conversation by the trenchant remark, "He's been a weel-pitten-thegither
chield that, afore he cu'd hae gi'en and gotten sae mony knocks!" |