Evangelistic Tours—Various Years
Or several years the General Assembly set itself in good earnest to do spiritual work for Scotland. Once and again a whole day was set apart for humiliation and prayer. These seasons will never be forgotten, though the number of those who took part in them is diminishing fast. Our children ought to hear of them, and our children’s children. ‘Ecclesiastical’ work was not neglected; but it took its lower and more becoming place. ‘WE DID run well; who did hinder us?’
In the memorable Assembly of 1844, after Dr. C. Brown’s admirable sermon on Tuesday the 17th, and the interesting conversation that ensued, the following motion was unanimously agreed to: ‘The General Assembly being deeply impressed, as in the sight of God, with a sense of the sins and shortcomings of the ministers and elders of the Church in their holy callings, and recognising the voice of the Great Head of the Church in His providential dealings with her, and in the Spirit which He has been pouring out upon her, whereby He has been pleased to awaken some measure of concern as regards the past and present fruits of the ministry, as well as longing prayers for the revival of vital godliness in the Church and land, do desire, with profound humiliation, and in reliance on the great strength of Almighty God, solemnly to devote, dedicate, and consecrate anew themselves and their fellow-labourers to the service of God, and His holy purpose of glorifying His great name, in saving souls through the preaching of the truth, and the operation of the Holy Ghost.’
At that time, not an hour, or two hours, but a whole day, nay, two days, were gladly given to this solemn employment. It was in reference to this that Dr. Chalmers made the statement, now I fear forgotten, but which, especially as coming from him, ought to be pondered by the Church: ‘TI was not fully aware of the arrangements of this day, else it might have been altogether spent in accordance with the nature and spirit of the exercises we have now engaged in, that is to say, altogether sabbatically, Instead of which I had to pass, by instant transition, from the labours of a committee, engaged in important, no doubt, but still outward business, to the more sacred and spiritual services of the house of God. What a change! What an enlargement! What a felt and immediate translation! As if one had entered into a new country and a new climate, when I came within the precincts of this house of prayer, and breathed its hallowing atmosphere, and joined in its saintly devotions. Let us make it our unceasing endeavour, and cherish it as our fondest hope, that all our external arrangements may be so soon settled
Fa a ee and set by, that so the ministers of God may be set free for giving themselves wholly to prayer and the ministry of the word. Oh may the delightful spirit of this meeting wax stronger and stronger amongst us, and be sent forth from our Assembly, as a centre, throughout the Church and throughout the land!’*
How far we have fuifilled our vows, it is not here needful to say. Many of our best men have feared that we have come short, and that subsequent years exhibit no reaping worthy of the sowing. ‘We have not wrought any deliverance in the earth,’ have been words often on the lips of brethren who love our Church both wisely and well.
Mr. Milne seems to have had some thought, both then and afterwards, that the times were very peculiar, needing no ordinary faith and grace to enable, not simply to advance, but even to hold our ground. Thus he writes to Mr. Somerville: ‘If I mistake not, we are approaching a new era. Common grace will not suffice, for we seem about to enter on new and troublesome times. I fear few of us are willing to believe, or at least to realize this. We like to be quiet and to be let alone, like the Kenite, in our islet nest. But this, I fear, is impossible. When the Lord’s time is come, who can stay His hand? Perhaps the Lord is taking you aside to rest awhile before the battle is joined. May it be Tabor and Patmos.’
But it was needful to work for God, as well as to wait
1See ‘Report of the whole Proceedings of the late General Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland, relative to the State of Religion in the Land; with introductory remarks by the Rev. A. Moody Stuart.’ Edinburgh, 1844.
upon Him. To the work, then, the Assembly addressed itself. Selecting those who were considered fittest for evangelistic service, the Church sent them abroad over the land into the different places considered most needful and populous. Summer after summer these men went out into
the towns and villages; some to the southern borders, and”
some to the Uitima Thule of Scotland, — the Shetland Isles; some to the agricultural regions, and some to the mining districts; so that all the needy parts of the land might, as much as possible, be penetrated by this peculiar and stimulating agency. The fruit of these summer evangelistic excursions has not been small. Much of the awakening that has been manifested in different places may be traced to these as the beginning.
Among these summer evangelists was Mr. Milne. He was eager for the work. It was quite according to his mind. He threw himself heartily into it, as he had before thrown himself into similar work in Newcastle and the
neighbourhood, along with myself and one or two others. °
“I am happy,’ he writes to Mr. Somerville, you have included me among the evangelists. I should have been sorry if I had shut myself out from such work,’1
Mr. Milne’s report of his evangelistic tour we shall have to cite in a little. But ina note to Mr. Somerville he gives
? From this letter I quote the following sentence, in reference to the events of the day : — ‘I preached yesterday forenoon, in connection with Dr. Chalmers’ death, on Matt. xxiv. 44. I felt impressed, and so seemed the people. TI have a letter to-day from William Burns, after putting his things on board. He seems soft and humble; and it tugs my heart-strings to think that we may never meet again on earth,’
ee the following sketch of one of these gospel journeys : — ‘In answer to your queries, the places where I was were Airdrie, Holytown, and Coatbridge, preaching in and round about. I began on Tuesday, 28th July, and ended on Tuesday, 25th August; being, I think, twenty-nine days.
I preached, I find, forty-one times, — twelve of these in
church, four or five in schoolhouses, etc., and the rest in the open air.’ In another note to the same, he writes of another tour : — ‘I feel for that district. I think while there I entered into the expression of the Saviour, “He had compassion on the multitudes.” I left my people in good heart, because of all they enjoyed at the Communion. They seem to have been exceedingly strengthened and refreshed. I wish you would interest the committee in the Upper Ward of Lanark. It is so near that it is a shame to overlook it. I am happy that I went out for a short time this summer.’
His first gospel tour was in 1846, to what he calls ‘ the Airdrie district;’ and his report of it (dated August 28th) is as follows : —
‘Having just got home, after being a little more than a month out, according to desire I write you a few words about my movements in the Airdrie district. I am not sure that you are acquainted with this quarter of the country, though it is so near you. It is situated in the parishes of Old and New Monkland, and the highway between Edinburgh and Glasgow passes through the heart of Airdrie and Coatbridge. Some thirty years ago, or less, these two places were mere villages on the road-side (occupied by handloom weavers), and a few coal pits. It was found, however, that one of the richest beds of ironstone in the country is in this neighbourhood; and this discovery, combined with the unprecedented demand for iron, arising from the introduction of railways, and the application of iron to a variety of new uses, has caused a most rapid and surprising change upon the neighbourhood.
‘The value of property has increased amazingly, not on account of the surface, but what is beneath. For instance, one estate, which a while ago yielded only a few hundred pounds a year for agricultural purposes, now yields annual rental of £23,000 and more. The feuars sell the iron and coal under their houses and kail-yards, and the church managers sell the minerals under their churches and churchyards, and the magistrates sell the underminings of their streets and squares. In short, the good folks seem to think, speak, and, I presume, dream, of undiscovered El-Dorados of ironstone. Don’t think all this irrelevant, for I suspect this is the wealthiest rural district we have, and, if well wrought, would yield the sinews of war.
‘The country has a barren, ill-cultivated appearance, covered with coal and iron mines; each with its machinery, smoking chimney, and railway for the conveyance of the products of the pit. The country is literally cut up with railways. These aniners constitute a large portion of the population. They are peculiar in their character and habits.. They begin work about four o’clock in the morning, and end, according to their assiduity and skill, about twelve, one, two, three, or four o’clock. I have spoken with many of them coming home from their work in crowds at all these hours. The rest of the day is their own, and is spent in lounging about, and very commonly in playing cards. You see them in large groups, old and young; the old with full-sized, and the juveniles with small packs of cards, about half the size of one’s finger. J called them the Devil’s Bible, which they took in good part, and often left their amusement to come and hear sermon.. These miners are almost, without exception, joined in an extensive and well-consolidated confederacy. I met it in all directions, and the management of it seems greatly to occupy their attention. The object is to protect themselves from usd THE IRON-WORKS. 113
’ what they call the tyranny of the masters, whom I think they very unjustly suspect.. The effect seems to be every way in-,
jurious to good order and regular industrious working. They earn every man 5s. a day, the boys from 2s. to 5s. They
strike me as in a very low state, both morally and spiritually.
They seem unsocial, working so much in the dark, and usually with only a single companion. They do not seem to spend their leisure time in reading. I remarked that it was rare to see old men among them; and, on inquiry, found that if they were not cut off by some of the many perils to which they are exposed, yet their life is generally shortened by asthma, etc.’ I went down one of the pits, that I might be able to speak experimentally.
‘ Another feature of the district is the large iron-works-for melting the ironstone, called furnaces; and the malleable iron-works for refining and preparing it for various purposes — railways, wheels, etc. These are very numerous and extensive around Coatbridge, Holytown, etc. In connection with some of these, there are two or three thousand men engaged in the various operations. They are many of them English, and some Welsh; the Scotch and Irish not being skilled in this kind of work. They earn very large wages — 6s., or 7s., or 8s., and morea day. Many of these men work on Sabbath as well as the week-day — the furnaces being kept at work unceasingly night and day, in utter contempt of the requirements of body and soul, and the commands of God’s law. These men live in good two-storied houses, very neat and comfortable, and seem, as far as the animal is concerned, to fare well.
‘J visited two of the largest of these works, the one in daylight, and the other late at night, after preaching, and was very much interested by the huge machinery, the order and regularity, the crowds of half-naked, perspiring men, and the bright lurid flames which blazed in all directions.
‘The population of the small district which I visited is 70,000 or upwards, not gathered together as in the older part of Glasgow, but scattered over the space of two or three miles;
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114 LIFE OF REV. FOHN MILNE.
not consisting of the poor and wretched, who, if they have the will, have not the means of debauchery, but consisting of the young and active, earning large wages, free from all control, and having abundance of time at their command. 1 feel that one cannot overstate the importance of this district, or the necessity there is for our Church dealing energetically with it.
“The way in which I sought to be useful was preaching in the open air once a day, and latterly always twice; preaching in the afternoon in the neighbourhood, and then going to the heart of Coatbridge, where there was always an immense concourse of people, and preaching there at seven o’clock in a kind of open space. In going about I distributed tracts, and got into conversation with the people as I went along. I never have had such an opportunity of making proof to the very full of my ministry, and I certainly never spent such a happy month. {I lived two weeks in Mr. Jackson’s house, one week in Mr. Jaffrey’s, and another in Mr. Connel’s; being made, by their kindness and hospitality, to feel completely at home, and bringing away with me an abiding and refreshing remembrance of our Christian intercourse. I have reason to believe that the visit has not been without beneficial results in various ways.
‘I have suggested to the brethren to seek occasional help from you and some of the other Glasgow brethren, which I trust you will give them; also the getting savings Lanks set on foot, and extended to the various localities and large works. A committee was formed, and they are to commence arrange. ments this week; also that the few brethren who are locally near one another, and have to deal with the same difficulties, should meet occasionally for prayer and conference. I have also written to Mr. Bridges to get a cheap edition prepared of a narrative called Light in Darkness, which I think peculiarly fitted to be useful to the colliers, etc. He has written me that they are to prepare “a miner’s edition of it,” and the brethren and other friends have engaged to get it widely circulated.
‘I preached also one night in Shotts parish, and, ere we left, arrangements were made with the prospect of forming a Free Church congregation in this important and necessitous district. A strong committee was formed on the spot, and I think the thing will go on prosperously.
‘One other suggestion is, the getting up of good Free Church schools. There is not one yet in the district. In connection with all the large iron-works there is a school for the children of the work-people; but they are the most miserable and inefficient that it is possible to conceive. If each of our congregations had a good school in connection with it, it would be a mighty help to its prosperity, and an unspeakable boon to the district.
‘I owe the deepest obligation to our brethren, Messrs. Jackson, Jaffrey, Connel, and Lawson, who gave up their time and comfort to accompany me in moving about, and in concurring to make the visit useful. I find that their services among my people have been much appreciated.
‘See what a long epistle I have written! But I cannot express the strong feeling I have of the importance of this district, of the good it may yield if prosperously worked, and the evil it will do if neglected. All kinds of evil are festering here: false doctrine, profligacy, ungodliness, and reckless trampling under foot of God’s day. It is an eating sore, and spreading too.
‘Will you give it your consideration, and make it known to others who may help? I feel thankful for having had this opportunity of teaching and learning, for I have been both an instructor and a scholar,’
His second tour was in 1847; and from his report (dated 19th August) the following extracts are given : —
‘I then preached at Carmichael. It rained very heavily, but I found a good many people gathered together, and standing under a few trees at the side of the Carlisle highway.
I stood upon a little hillock of earth while I preached, and was so pleased with the appearance of the people, that I determined
Gai =!
to have another meeting. I accordingly preached in the same place last Sabbath night, and had a large congregation. There were some of the large farmers with their families, and I have no doubt that we might have, and oughz to have here a strong and prosperous rural congregation. We must do something for this district. The people look to us. They are literally perishing for lack of knowledge; and I never was so struck with the needfulness and value of the Disruption movements, as from what I saw here and elsewhere in this country. ‘South-east from Carnwath is another cluster of Moderate parishes, Dunsyre, Dolphinton,and Walston. I had meetings in all the three. In Walston there is a small Free Church at a little hamlet, Ellsridgehill, It is well set down to rake the three parishes as well as the parish of Biggar, which adjoins it on the south. It is a miserable place, however, a small Old Light chapel, which the Free Biggar Presbytery have got somehow possession of. They cannot get a site for a manse, else they have the means of building a small one.. There are several men who have bits of land in and round the hamlet. I spent nearly two hours in trying to get one of them to give a site, but in vain. Something mws¢ be done for this’ place. Either it will have to be given up, or else it must be strengthened, and put upon a right footing, for it would be inhuman to leave one of our ministers in such circumstances. I preached in the small chapel. Also at Dunsyre. Here Mr. Patteson has a meeting once a fortnight. Also at Dolphinton. I found the people standing in the open air, amid the rain. We went to one farm, but could not get admission, We went to another, and took possession of the barn. At the end, I asked if the farmer was present. He came forward. I asked if he would give his barn again, and he said he would. Mr. Patteson, who was with me, then said that he had long desired to hold meetings in Dolphinton, but had never been able to get a place; but that now the door seemed opened. We fixed that he should go there next Sabbath night, which he accordingly did; and there will henceforth be, I trust, a regular station in Dolphinton, y
‘It was late when we arrived at Abington, about 11 o’clock. We found the inn completely pre-occupied. It is far superior to what one meets with in such a place, having been built by Sir Edward Colebrooke, the chief proprietor in this county, as a residence for his friends, when they come down to shoot. This, unhappily for us, was the evening of the 12th of August, and the house was full. After a time, however, some one, I suppose, had agreed to sleep with a companion, and give us their bed, and so we got housed. Abington is a considerable village. I went to the school and spoke a little to the children, and gave each a tract to take home. This village would be the place for a Free Church for the district, as soon as things are ripe for it. It is of considerable size, situated on the Carlisle road, having the village of Roberton about four miles from it on one side, and the village of Crawford about four miles on the other, and ali these having the Carlisle road running through them. Then, about four miles off, among the hills, is the village of Crawfordjohn, where the parish church and school are. We now crossed the hills to this sequestered village of Crawfordjohn. There were two small public-houses in the place, but neither of them seemed willing to take us in. One of them agreed to give us tea, but would on no account accommodate us for the night. I found there are a few persons who go over occasionally to Douglas, to Mr. Jaffrey. One of these is a small farmer named Watson, adjoining the village. I found in one of his fields a few boards nailed together for a minister to stand upon while preaching; and sermon is given here occasionally by Mr. Jaffrey, Douglas; Mr. Parker, Lesmahagow, etc. It was a beautiful evening, and the people were very busy with their hay. The meeting, therefore, was not large. What struck me was that the men and women were all dressed in their best clothes. They spread their plaids on the grass and sat down. A few people came out of the village in their working dress; but they would not come forward and join the little congregation, but stood behind a stone wall. At the end of the meeting it was beginning to grow dark. I intended to go to Crawford, which is about seven miles off, but found that it would be impossible to find the way at night among the hills. So we set out for Roberton, which is about the same distance, and got there very late. The people were gone to bed, but, after some delay, rose and admitted us. It was a wretched place; but we were glad to get under cover, and passed the night as we best could without putting off our clothes. In the morning we left early, and walked along the Caledonian Railway, speaking with the workmen, and giving them tracts. I asked one of the engineers to explain something to me, which he very civilly did. In speaking, he said something about erecting a bridge over the Danube at Pesth in Hungary. I said, “Did you know Dr. Duncan,” etc.? His face immediately brightened. He had known the Doctor most intimately, and insisted upon our going with him to see his wife, who had seen much of Mrs. Duncan at Pesth. After a long walk we got to. Culter Manse, and so ended our journeying, as a gig met us there and took us on to Carnwath.
‘I am ashamed of this long rambling detail, but am anxious that attention should be drawn to this large and most destitute and hitherto neglected district. It will soon be the chief thoroughfare between England and Scotland. It is a great privilege to be permitted to cast the net in places not gospel-beaten.
‘Let me bring also before you the state of the vast district contained in the parishes Roberton, Crawfordjohn, and Crawford. Scarcely anything has yet been done for them. I should have liked to spend a week here, but you know I have been providentially tied up by family circumstances. In conclusion, I feel, perhaps, more satisfaction in looking back on this service, than perhaps on anything else of the kind in which I have been engaged. I have enjoyed unvaried liberty, and often a good deal.of affection in preaching and speaking with the people. They seemed also much solemnized and affected, and I have a strong and thankful conviction that good has been done. There was a good deal of labour in travelling
Le a ey =e about, and a good deal of exposure from wet, cold nights; but I am better in health and spirits than when I set out. The instrument has not been blunted, but sharpened, and I look forward with hopefulness to my winter home work.’
We fear that in these days he did too much. Pastoral, ministerial, and evangelistic work were not meant for one single man. For each of these Mr. Milne was admirably fitted, and for each of them he had a fervent and irrepressible desire. He excelled in all of them; and he delighted in them. He loved his work and his Master so well that he would take no holiday. But on looking back on these times, and judging himself in the light of wiser, though not less fervent years, he was not unwilling to admit that he had erred somewhat in denying himself all relaxation, as if his frame could never wear out. ‘I feel,’ he writes in 1859, ‘that I am suffering the retribution, the nemesis of former years, of unresting, unrelaxing labour; the regular home work without any weekly rest; and then, when summer came, instead of the yearly relaxation, itinerancies of exciting and threefold labour. There was real folly in all this. It was just as it were saying, “‘A short life and a merry one;” and yet in the end one finds that there comes a season, neither short nor merry, when the physical, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual all seem expended and worn out, and the unhappy individual becomes a trial and a burden to himself and others.’
There is in this a warning to ministers, and a lesson to the people. No man can bear the strain of constant work during the twelve months of the year without a month’s rest at least, any more than he can get through the twenty-four hours of the day without the appointed sleep. An over-wrought minister will soon be like an over-wrought workman; he will do inferior work, and in the end he will do no work at all. Our Lord surely taught us this when He said to His disciples, ‘Come ye apart into a desert place and rest awhile.’ Hence, in May 1847, Mr. Milne writes to Mr. Somerville, declining work, though he undertook it afterwards in part : —
month of the kind of work I had last year. I should get through it, I trust, but I fear it would unfit me for vigorous working among my own people during the winter. I suspect my illness last November arose from getting jaded in the west, and then coming home and attempting for a while to work very hard, making up the leeway of neglected visitation during my absence.’
‘T now fear that it would not be right in me to undertake a
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Yet, certainly, it is better to wear out than to rust out. And while the tendency of some, like Mr. Milne, is to do too much, perhaps the tendency of the majority is to do too little, both in the way of study and of work. The first six years after the Disruption were memorable years in many respects; and not least for the amount of evangelistic work done throughout the land. ‘The men who went out to preach felt as Whitefield did when he said, ‘I am hunting for lost sinners in these ungospelized wilds;’ or when, returning from an evangelistic tour, he exclaimed, ‘Another inroad into Satan’s kingdom!’ and they did not lose their reward. They wore themselves out, perhaps; they were not willing to yield to what some called a prudent regard to health, accounting it a plea for self-indulgence, an excuse for the love of ease; but they
ee ee did a work which has not been like the morning cloud or the early dew.
During these years he knew no holiday. He, like Robert M‘Cheyne, made it a rule never to refuse an invitation to preach, unless unable or pre-engaged. And in these evangelistic excursions he was, as he said, like a pirate on the seas, or a moss-trooper on the moors, eager in pursuit of prey; so that sometimes, he feared, there was as much of the flesh as of the spirit in the eagerness to lay hold of souls, and bear them back as his prize.’
To these summer labours he ascribes, in part, the very severe illness which he had in November 1846. It came on quite suddenly one Sabbath morning with an attack of unconsciousness, from which he did not recover for some time. The most prompt and severe remedies were used; but for a while his recovery was uncertain. It pleased God, however, to answer his people’s prayers, and to restore him.
On one of the Sabbaths during which he was laid aside, Mr. Moody Stuart preached for him, and through him he sent the following message to his people : —
‘DEAR Moopy, — I avail myself of your kind offer to put my beloved people a little in possession of my experience at this
crisis. Say to them that I feel that I belong to them, and that in my affliction they are afflicted; that what I have seen and
1 What he wrote at a subsequent time may be quoted here in reference to his work in these years: — ‘I long to learn how I may reach the hearts and consciences of those around me, how to bring the religious, spiritual element to bear upon them.’ And again he writes: — ‘I am sure that a living, holy, consistent, earnest, prayerful man must be useful wherever he goes.’
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heard of their sympathy with me has very greatly endeared them; and that, if spared again to go in and out, I trust they will see that the tie between us is deeper, stronger, tenderer than before. Say to them that, doubtless in answer to their prayers, I am wonderfully acquiescent in this humbling, awakening dispensation; that I am even in some measure thankful and joyful, seeing much of the Lord’s goodness in the nature of it, the timing of it, and the measure of it.
‘Say to them that I am very rapidly recovering, and that I am permitted by my medical friends to say that, if all progresses as heretofore, I shall be worshipping with them next Sabbath, and perhaps taking part in the services of the
sanctuary.
‘Say to them that many things concur to make me feel that the Lord has something yet to do both with them and me. Last Sabbath was the first Sabbath of my eighth year among them. I had finished the seventh, and was without any particular thought going to begin the eighth. But how was it begun? In being prostrated by a stroke, and stripped at once of all that my foolish heart has too often, I fear, made a ground of glorying before God, and of conceit towards man. What thanks I owe to my gracious Saviour for casting me into such a furnace, ere I began the second stage of my ministry! What thanks I owe Him for making me what I am, a broken, emptied worm, having nothing now to hinder me from taking up His yoke and learning of Him! Dear brother, my heart is full and soft to-night, but strength is not commensurate. The Lord be with you and with our flocks. — Believe me, very affectionately yours,
‘JOHN MILNE,’
He also wrote in November 1846 to her who had just promised to become his wife : —
‘I see clearly the Lord’s hand in this affliction, and feel that in much loving-kindness He has done it. My ministerial life
has been a constant moving, — toil, anxiety, temptation without a moment’s intermission, and without a loving, sympathizing heart to bear a share of the burden, and soothe under it. Oh, how truly the devil has often bestridden me and spurred me on! I see a newera opening, and am full of hope. It is a little trying for me at present toe be eating, drinking, sleeping, with nothing to do, no preparation for Sabbath; but I feel more for you than myself. It is a strange beginning for you, dear R.; yet I do trust it is sowing in tears to reap in joy, it is laying the unsightly foundation of a goodly and happy superstructure.’
On December 34 of this year (1846) he thus wrote to Mr. Somerville : —
‘I am fast recovering, though not going about yet. I do hope that I have got permanent good, and that I shall not forget or lose the teaching of my Lord.... I have hope that the Lord will so show us the worthiness of His Son that we shall ask, expect, and receive greater things than we have yet known. I feel as if I had been an idler. We should try to keep up continuity of grace. Our good frames are usually like spring-tides, that swell high and then speedily shrink back, leaving our deformity and feebleness to appear. Would that, having received Christ Jesus, we could walk in Him, not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. I am interested by what you say of next Sabbath being the first of your tenth year. May it prove to you a blessed day! On the first Sabbath of my eighth year I was thrown into the furnace.’
And about the same time he writes to Collace : —
‘The Lord makes me a little happy. Existence seems a blessing; for the new way is ever open even to me; and the Lord is willing that I should follow and serve Him.’
Through much tribulation he was to enter the kingdom of heaven. The billows which, in their approach, threatened to submerge him, as they came on, lifted him up to the heaven he was bound for.: