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Dr Guthrie, as we have seen, had not been long
in the collegiate charge of Old Greyfriars before he made up his mind that
more good might be accomplished if the parish was divided. With this view he
set about the formation of a new parish and the erection of a new church,
which would be in closer proximity to the Cowgate and the West Port, where
he recognised the need of more provision for the spiritual wants of the
inhabitants. He ventilated and advocated the propriety of this scheme until,
in 1810, the new parish of St John's was erected, St John's Church built,
and he was appointed minister—Mr Sim retaining the Church of Old Greyfriars.
In carrying out the arrangements for his new church and parish, he made it a
condition, to which the subscribers and the Town Council agreed, that
one-third of the seats were to be entirely free, while another third should
be charged for at a merely nominal rate, so as to encourage the poor and
destitute to avail themselves of religious ordinances. He rigorously
enforced compliance with these conditions; and even when he was in the
zenith of his popularity and power, drawing to his church crowds of people
from all parts of the city, he would not allow a single seat to be occupied
by strangers until his own parishioners, no matter what their appearance,
position, or character, had been accommodated. So far as practicable, the
same regulations were carried out in Free St John's, to which he removed
after the Disruption; and it caused no little offence to many of his warmest
admirers that their social status was entirely disregarded, and they had to
give way to men and women from whom, in all probability, they would have
shrunk as from a plague. Protests innumerable were made to the Doctor with a
view of having this rule departed from, but he was perfectly inexorable; and
strangers continued to be accommodated in a hall underneath the church until
the regular members and adherents of the congregation were in their places.
In the winter of 1844-45 Dr Guthrie entered upon
the new church of Free St John's, which, as we have said, was built for him
at the top of the West Bow, within a stone's throw of his old parish church.
Most of his congregation went with him at the Disruption; but whilst the new
church was being built they saw very little of their minister, who was
absent on his great work of the Manse Scheme. On his return from that tour
with flying colours, he received from his congregation a most cordial
welcome; congratulations poured in upon him on every hand; and he was
perhaps the most popular man of the whole church. But while his popularity
had gained, his health had suffered; the Herculean labours he undertook
sapped his usually robust constitution, and laid the foundations of
permanent disease. His heart became affected. On several occasions he was
laid aside from active duty, and he was recommended to seek change of air
and scene. This induced him to visit the Continent; and he travelled on this
and subsequent occasions through France, Switzerland, Italy, and Germany. In
these visits he acquired a large amount of useful information, and
frequently conducted religious services—both giving and receiving benefit.
In 1856 Dr Hanna was appointed his colleague at
Free St John's. Up to this time he had been without either colleague or
assistant, although the precarious state of his health sometimes kept him
out of the pulpit for weeks together. The appointment of Dr Hanna was
brought about in the following manner. Ho had made an arrangement with the
Rev. Mr Addis, of Morningside Church, to exchange pulpits for a few Sundays
while he was editing the works of Dr Chalmers. Mr Addis thus removed to Dr
Hanna's church at East Kilbride, and the latter took up his quarters at
Morningside. About, this time Dr Guthrie had made up his mind that he must
either retire altogether from pulpit duties, or have a colleague. The
congregation deprecated the adoption of the former course; and having heard
Dr Hanna preach in St John's on several occasions when their own minister
was unable to be present, they resolved to invite him to become collegiate
minister of St John's. The formal call was given by the Congregation, and
accepted by Dr Hanna, who continued, with great satisfaction to ail
concerned, to be Dr Guthrie's colleague for a period of eleven years,
retiring in 1867.
From the time that he obtained the assistance of
Dr Hanna, the pulpit appearances of Dr Guthrie became much less frequent,
and he officiated in his own pulpit for the last time in 1865, although
subsequent to that date he occasionally assisted at communion services, both
in his own church and elsewhere.
On the 22d day of May, 1862, Dr Guthrie was
appointed Moderator of the Twentieth General Assembly of the Free Church of
Scotland. But for his infirm health, it is probable that this honour,—the
highest that it is in the power of the church to bestow,—would have been
conferred upon him years before. His election was proposed by the retiring
Moderator, Dr Candlish, who, among other justly laudatory sentiments, gave
utterance to the following:—"His genius has long since placed him at the
head of all the gifted and popular preachers of our day, and with his other
rare qualifications, has won for him an influence in quarters otherwise all
but inaccessible; an influence nobly used; never for any selfish end, but
always for Christ's truth and cause alone. His efforts in every work of
benevolence, and specially on behalf of ragged children, have made his name,
like that of Howard, synonymous with philanthropy. For our church he has
been in many ways a benefactor as well as an ornament; and hundreds of
manses all over the land will be his endearing monument." The nomination was
seconded by his intimate friend and warm admirer the Earl of Dalhousie, who
concluded his speech with these truthful and noble words:—"It was his lot to
show the example of preaching to the outcast people of the land, in the
wilds and amid the snows of Canobie; it was his privilege to take up the
question of providing manses for our houseless ministers, and we know how
nobly he wrought that scheme. Having established, on a foundation which, I
trust, will not be easily moved, the ragged schools, Thomas Guthrie directed
his ever active mind to put down intemperance and drunkenness throughout our
city. Brethren, there is not a sin in this city with which he has not
endeavoured to do battle,—not a sorrow in it with which he has not
sympathised,—and those of you who are citizens of Edinburgh, to you I say
again. This is the man whom you are this day invited to honour. In honouring
Thomas Guthrie, the Court is conferring honour on itself; and I cannot help
feeling a selfish pleasure in seeing him so highly honoured, seeing we come
from the same country, were born in the same town, and love to dwell among
the same scenes." Dr Guthrie was introduced to the Assembly by Dr Buchanan
of Glasgow.
Often has the Free Assembly Hall been crowded
with anxious and expectant faces; but never did it exhibit a more memorable
aspect than on this occasion. It seemed as if the whole city had turned out
to welcome the man whom his church delighted to honour. Hundreds tried in
vain to obtain admission. The audience stood on the tiptoe of expectation,
for it was pretty generally understood that the moderator-elect was prepared
to make one of his most brilliant oratorical efforts. Dr Guthrie did not
disappoint his numerous and expectant friends. His opening address began
with a plea for indulgence, on the ground that "he was not conversant with
the forms of church courts, having, before the Disruption, oftener found
himself at a gun than by the wheel; and, since the Disruption, such time as
he could spare from pulpit and pastoral duties had been given to other
fields." He then referred, in his own peculiar manner, to the services
rendered by former Moderators; the growing and gratifying desire for union
among Christians; his attachment to the principles for which, as Free
Churchmen, they had fought and suffered; the Court of Session and the
Cardross case; the Veto and Church Settlement Act; and the immediate duty
and ultimate destiny of the Free Church not to pull down the Established
Church, but "to bring our church into a state of the highest efficiency,—
filling our professors' chairs with the best professors, our pulpits with
the best ministers, our schemes with the best conveners, our eldership with
the cream of the people, and our people with the very finest of the
wheat,"—and thereby prove that a church faithful to her Head in heaven, and
to the Bible on earth, and faithful to the people's rights and to the
interests of souls, without aid from the State, can stand on her own good
feet." At the close of his address, Dr Guthrie paid a tender, cordial, and
nobly eloquent tribute to the memory of Hugh Miller and Dr Cunningham. Of
Miller he said, Talk to the people of Scotland of a name that lent lustre to
the Free, Church, and a pen that did her the greatest service, and
I Will tell you a name that rises in the minds of Scotland's people, and
trembles on their lips—the name of Hugh Miller. . . Years have passed since
we lost him. Years often abate the sense of loss, but in my mind they have
here only increased the sense of it. How often have events happened when we
would have wished to have him back again—back in our field of battle—how
often have we been ready to cry, like our fathers, when hard pressed by the
English, 'Oh! for one hour of "Wallace wight!'—Oh! for one hour of Miller!
one paper from him! one flash of his steel in the battle field! . . . Who
had a pen like his, who so ready for the onset, and who showed such prowess
in the field! Ay, whose name in lordly hall, or Highland glen, or crowded
city, by seashore or among our mountains, was more a familiar word than Hugh
Miller's name. He fell a sacrifice; he was a martyr m his own way to his
mighty efforts in the cause of truth, of patriotism, of the Free Church, of
civil and religious liberty; and, I will also add, to the cause of science,
ministering as a priestess at the altar of religion." Of Dr Cunningham he
said, "He, whom Miller loved so well,—whom, next to Chalmers, he most
revered,—who was, of all men, as a man-at arms, facile princeps,—who might
of all men have received the noble title of defensor fidei, defender of our
faith,—is, since the meeting of last Assembly, dead and gone. We shall see
his face no more. We miss him here, and what can I say of him more than
this—we would have missed him more in the day of conflict? I leave it to
this Assembly to record, in terms suitable to his worth, his distinguished
abilities, and his distinguished services, their sense of the value they set
on William Cunningham; that generations hereafter may know how much we
valued him who carved his name on the very pillars of our church; how much
we owe to him who was a lion in the battlefield and a lamb at home; how much
we owe to him who, while he lived, and now by his works when dead, did so
much to anchor the church over the ground of that old and sound theology
which Paul revealed, Calvin illustrated, Knox imported, and William
Cunningham so nobly defended. Fathers and Brethren, where he did so much to
anchor our bark, I trust she will ever ride. In these days, when men are
lifting the anchors of their faith and driving on the shores of infidelity,
now and hereafter also, may our church never depart from that sure
anchor-ground; and may her ministers ever be men whom no earthly advantages
will tempt to sign what they do not believe, and no earthly loss will deter
from avowing what they do!"
Dr Guthrie's speech, in closing the Assembly,
was worthy of himself and of the occasion. It was long, elaborate, racy, and
comprehensive. We give one or two brief extracts, valuable in themselves,
and as fair specimens of the whole speech. Repudiating all sympathy with the
errors of Bunsen, he adds, "Far less do I sympathise with those who, having
embraced German errors, still hold Church of England livings; and, so doing,
deal with the most sacred vows after a fashion that, I will take leave to
say, would in commerce be counted fraud—would in domestic life destroy its
peace, and end in actions of divorce—and would, in the affairs of State,
brand a man with the name of a traitor; and would, in other days, have
brought his head to the block. I have no sympathy with such men. If
ministers of the church may do what ministers of the State may not,—what men
in commerce may not—what men in domestic life may not— may sign one thing
and believe and act upon another—then, in 1843, we were 'martyrs by mistake.
We might have held both our livings and our principles in that way. We acted
otherwise, and what a fatal blow to religion had we not acted otherwise!
There is something more eloquent than speech, I mean the eloquence of
action; and I am bold to say that Hall, Foster, or Chalmers never preached a
sermon so impressive or sublime as the humblest minister of our church did
on that day of May, when he gave up his living to retain his principles, and
joined the crowd that, bursting from the doors of St Andrew's Church, with
Chalmers at its head, marched out, file by file, in steady ranks, giving
God's people, who anxiously crowded the streets, occasion to weep tears, not
of grief but of joy, as they cried, 'They come, they come; thank God! they
come."
He referred with approval to the idea of Bunsen,
that the Free Church had been raised up, and placed in favourable
circumstances for solving the problem, whether a church, without aid or
countenance from the State, could fulfill the two grand objects of every
living being—sustain itself and extend itself; and, after noticing one or
two collateral matters, added: "If we can secure for our church the rising
talent and genius, as well as the piety of the country—if we can fill our
pulpits with our ablest as well as our most pious youths, I do not despair
of a favourable result. We are very near it already. The Free Church is only
nineteen years old, and already we have a revenue of above £300,000 a-year,
as much as the whole revenues of the whole Established Church. We are
engaged in this grand experiment, and we shall work it out successfully, if
we do our duty to the missionary cause abroad, and what I make, free to call
the 'minister cause' at home." To a remarkably eloquent and unique pleading
for the "minister cause" the remainder of the address was devoted. We give a
few of the noble utterances: "Genteel poverty! may you never know it!
genteel poverty, to which some doom themselves, but to which ministers are
doomed, is the greatest evil under the sun. Give me liberty to wear a frieze
coat, and I will thank no man for a black one—give me liberty to rear my
sons to be labourers, and my daughters to be domestic servants, and the
manse may enjoy the same cheerful contentment that sheds its sunlight on
many a. pious and lowly home. But to place a man in circumstances where he
is expected to be generous and hospitable, to have a hand as open as his
heart is to the poor, to give his family a liberal education, to breed them
up according to what they call genteel life,— to place a man in these
circumstances, and deny him the means of doing so, is, but for the hope of
heaven, to embitter existence....There are certain ways of evading the
claims of ministers to such a competence as they are entitled to. Some
people do not like to hear of these nutters. Some, not many, I hope, are
like an honest man belonging to Aberdeenshire—begging the pardon of the
Aberdonians here, I tell the story as I heard it—who, on being asked what he
thought of the Free Church, replied, 'Oh, I admire her principles, but I
detest her schemes. . . . An honest weaver stood up, and was clear for
keeping the incumbtnt at the lowest figure. He saw no reason why ministers
should receive more for weaving sermons than he had for weaving webs. He
alleged, in proof of the advantage of a poor stipend, that the church never
had better nor so good ministers as in those days when they went about in
sheepskins and goatskins, and lived in caves and holes of the earth. If any
sympathise with the weaver, I answer that I have an insuperable objection to
'caves and holes'—they create damp; and, secondly, as to the habiliments, it
will be time enough to take up that question when our people are prepared to
walk Princes Street with us, not in this antique dress, but in the more
primitive and antiquated fashion of goatskins with the horns on. So I
dispose of all such wretched evasions.
I now pass on to a second evasion, drawn from a
case which actually occurred though not in our congregation, nor in any
congregation of the Free Church. A lady, rustling in silks, and in a blaze
of jewels, went to visit her minister's wife, more a lady than herself, with
the exception of the dress. She condoled with her on the straitened
circumstances and means of ministers; and looking into the pale care-worn
face of the excellent woman, said, as she turned up the white of her eyes, '
But, my dear, your reward is above!' From the bloodless lips of some poor
sinner in a cold, unfurnished garret, where the man of God, facing fevers
and pestilence, has gone to smooth the dying pillow, and minister
consolation in that last dark hour, I have been thankful to hear the words,
'Your reward is above'—but from silks and satins--disgusting !—cant, the
vilest cant, and enough to make religion stink in the nostrils of the world!
Does that saying pay the minister's stipend! —will it pay his accounts?
Fancy the worthy man going to his baker or his butcher, and instead of
paying down money, turning up the white of his eyes to say, 'Your reward is
above.' I fancy they would reply, 'Oh, no, my good Sir, that will not pay
the bill;' and I say what does not pay bills does not pay ministers'
stipends as they ought to be paid." |
