When it was proposed to contribute regularly for foreign missions in Blinkbonny, the more experienced members deemed it inexpedient until our home affairs were put on a sure basis, but some of the ladies espoused the cause keenly. They with some difficulty prevailed on Mr. Taylor to introduce the subject at a general meeting. His speech was far from being hearty; it was a mere question, “Could the members give to any scheme they liked?”
“Certainly,” replied the chairman.
“Well, there are some that want to give to the missionaries, and I think we should appoint a committee.”
This was done, and before a year had passed £42 were collected. Strange to say, the other schemes seemed to suffer so little, that even George Brown, who was one of the most timid, “thocht the folk were made o’ siller.”
GUDE SILLER.
How different this was from what we had done for missions in the old Church! I remember of the well-to-do farmer of Ramsay lands asking me for two sixpences for a shilling, adding, “Isna this a collection for the missionaries? I fancy we’ll hae to gi’e them a saxpence.” Next week he gave to a curling club a silver medal.
He was justly esteemed as a good, kind man, but his “saxpence” not unfairly represents the ideas of the times on the subject of missions.
It took a considerable time to reconcile the older folks to the exercise of missionary liberality. As I was coming from a meeting in which the missionary treasurer had announced that there had been collected for foreign missions during the previous year upwards of £42, James Wilkie, an old gamekeeper, spoke thus:
“Mr. Martin, did I hear richt, think ye? did our treasurer say that we (?) had gathered forty-twa pound for thae missionars?”
“Quite right,” said I; “forty-two pounds odds, James.”