Among the early settlers of the island, prominent alike because of his aptitude for his position and the dignity with which he filled it, is the venerable figure of Bishop McEachern. While yet in early boyhood, about the year 1775, he was sent by the Scottish Bishop, John McDonald, to the Scotch Ecclesiastical College at Valladolid, in Spain. Having finished his studies there, he was ordained priest, and returned to Scotland, where he worked as a missionary for five years, under the Right Reverend Bishop Alexander McDonald. He arrived on the island either in August or September of 1790, and took up his residence at Savage Harbor. The church at Scotchfort was then the only catholic church on the island, and missionary duties were discharged at the residences of individuals in different parts of the colony. He acted as road commissioner, and laid out all the roads in the eastern portion of King’s County. His assistant in this duty was a Presbyterian clergyman,—the Reverend William Douglas. He was a man of such a stamp as sometimes we find, under severe difficulties, executing work so arduous that it seems only the language of truth to call his deeds heroic. He was, in his day, the only catholic priest on the island. His flock was widely scattered. Roads were few, and travelling, always difficult, was often attended with danger. But neither difficulty nor danger could daunt the zeal of the missionary. Now in his wagon, now in his boat or sleigh, he visited the remotest settlements. Everywhere he was welcomed, both by catholic and protestant. There are yet living protestants who received the waters of baptism from the hands of the good bishop. Among his catholic flock he was at once pastor and judge. He decided differences, he settled disputes, and his verdict was, in almost every case, gracefully acquiesced in. The kindness of his nature and his shrewd forethought fitted him admirably for the duties of a missionary among early settlers, struggling with the countless difficulties of a rigid climate and a new country. One little trait recorded of him gives us a glimpse of the thoughtful beneficence of his character. He was in the habit of hanging up buckets near the springs by the roadside, in order to enable travellers to water their horses on their journeys. The same benevolence permeated all his actions, and his hospitality was unbounded. In every settlement he had a fixed place, where he resided until he had performed his priestly duties among his flock. These duties must at one time have been very onerous, for he was bishop not only of Prince Edward Island, but also of New Brunswick. He was the second English-speaking catholic priest who came to the island.
Few names call up warmer feelings of respect than that of Bishop McEachern. Full of years and wearied out with labor, he died at his residence, near Saint Andrews. He was laid in the old chapel; but, a few years ago, the remains were removed to the new church, where they rest within the sanctuary.
The Reverend Donald McDonald died in 1867. He was born in Perthshire, Scotland, on the first of January, 1783; was educated at the University of Saint Andrews; and was ordained a minister of the Church of Scotland in 1816. He labored as a missionary in the Highlands until 1824, when he emigrated to Cape Breton. Here he preached two years. In 1826 he came to the island, and commenced his labors in the spirit of the true evangelist. To him, the toil of travelling over the country and ministering to the destitute was the highest pleasure. Multitudes flocked to hear him preach. In barns, dwelling-houses, schoolhouses, and in the open air he proclaimed his commission to eager hundreds. Here and there he organized his bands of workers and ordained elders. As years rolled on, his interest in his great work increased, and great success crowned his efforts. Spacious and elegant churches began to take the place of rude shanties. His people grew in numbers, in wealth, in respectability, and in love for their minister. To have him as a guest, or to drive him from one of his stations to another, was the highest honor.
His eloquence was of a high order. Before commencing his sermon he generally gave an introductory address, in which he would refer to the national, political, and religious questions of the day, and comment freely on them. His sermons were masterpieces of logical eloquence. He would begin in a rather low conversational tone; but, as he proceeded, his voice would become stronger. Then the whole man would preach,—tongue, countenance, eyes, feet, hands, body,—all would grow eloquent! The audience would unconsciously become magnetized, convicted, and swayed at the speaker’s will. Some would cry aloud, some would fall prostrate in terror, while others would clap their hands, or drop down as if dead. Seldom has such pulpit power been witnessed since the preaching of Wesley, Whitfield, and Edward Irving.
But it must not be supposed that the abundance of Mr. McDonald’s labors as a preacher prevented him from giving attention to study. Far from it. His intellect was too strong and too vigorous to rest. His pen was ever busy. He was profoundly read in philosophy. He was deeply versed in ancient and ecclesiastical history. He excelled in Biblical exegesis. No superficial thinker was he. The pen of no one but a master could produce his treatises on “The Millennium,” “Baptism,” and “The Plan of Salvation.” He greatly admired the Hebrew and Greek languages. The Psalms of David, Isaiah’s Prophecies, and Solomon’s Songs were his delight. He was a graceful writer of English verse, an excellent singer, and played well on the flute. He published several collections of his poems and hymns. In the later years of his life one of his hymns was always sung at every service, set to some wild strain of his native Scotland, such as “The Campbells are coming,” or “The Banks and Braes o’ Bonny Doon.”
To say that Mr. McDonald was faultless, would be to say that he was more than human. To say that, as a great moral reformer, he had no enemies, would be to say that he was a toady and a time-server. He was a brave man. He had strong self-reliance, and still stronger faith in God. He attacked vices with giant blows. Woe to the opponent who crossed his pathway! He had rare conversational powers. His spirits were always good. He knew the circumstances of every family in his widely-scattered flock, and remembered the names of all the children. He had no certain dwelling-place, no certain stipend, and bestowed all he got on works of charity. He was rather below medium height, stout, and powerfully built. He was hale and vigorous-looking to the last. His dress, appearance, and manners always bespoke the cultured Christian gentleman. He was never married.
In 1861 his health began to fail rapidly. It was thought he would not recover. He wrote epistles to his congregations commending them to God. But he rallied, and was able, with varying strength, to labor six years longer. More than ever did his ministrations breathe the spirit of the Great Teacher. He was again brought low. He was at the house of Mr. McLeod, of Southport. He felt that his end was near,—that his life-work was over; and a great work it was. He had built fourteen churches; he had registered the baptism of two thousand two hundred children, and had baptized perhaps as many more not registered; he had married more people than any living clergyman; he had prayed beside thousands of deathbeds; he had a parish extending from Bedeque to Murray Harbor, and from Rustico to Belle Creek; and he had five thousand followers, more attached to their great spiritual leader than ever were Highland clansmen to their chief. But he was as humble as a child. To God he gave the glory for all. He retained his faculties, and was glad to see his old friends at his bedside. Many came from far and near to take their last farewell and receive the dying blessing of the venerable patriarch. He sank gradually, suffering no pain, and on Friday, the twenty-second of February, in the eighty-fifth year of his age and the fifty-first of his ministry, he breathed his last.
The place of interment was the Uigg Murray Harbor Road churchyard, eighteen miles distant from Charlottetown. The funeral was the largest ever witnessed in the colony. All classes united in paying the last tribute of respect to the honored dead. The cortege numbered over three hundred and fifty sleighs. As the great procession moved down through the country, at the roadsides and at the doors and windows of the houses might be seen old men weeping, and women and children sobbing as if they had lost a father; and in the presence of a vast assemblage, near the church where his eloquent voice had so often melted listening thousands, and where he had so often celebrated, at the yearly sacrament, the Saviour’s death, the remains of the Reverend Donald McDonald were laid to rest. A costly monument marks the spot. [I]
Amongst the first-class representative ministers of the Presbyterian body in Prince Edward Island, we may safely place the Reverend Dr. Kier, who was born in the village of Bucklyvie, in the parish of Kippen, Scotland, in the year 1779. He was educated at Glasgow College, studied theology under Professor Bruce, of Whitburn, and was licensed by the associate or antiburgher Presbytery of Glasgow about the beginning of the year 1808, and, in the autumn of that year, arrived as a missionary on the island, under the auspices of the General Associate Synod in Scotland. In 1810, Dr. Kier settled in Princetown, having been ordained in June of that year. This was the first organized Presbyterian congregation on the island. The call to Dr. Kier was subscribed by sixty-four persons, embracing nearly all the heads of families and male adults of the Presbyterian population in Princetown Royalty, New London, Bedeque, and the west side of Richmond Bay; and when the jubilee of the venerable doctor was held, in 1858, only fourteen of the number who signed the call were living. There is not one of the old Presbyterian congregations on the island, whether then in connection with the Scottish Establishment, the Free Church, or the Presbyterian Church of Nova Scotia, which did not, to some extent, enjoy his missionary labors, or experience his fostering care in its infancy. In most of them, Dr. McGregor planted; but he watered, while others have reaped.