Dr. Macgregor has the title of one of Her Majesty’s chaplains; he is a member of the Hon. Royal Scottish Academy, and a member of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, but a self-made man withal. He is not ashamed to acknowledge that his parents were poor and modest. He may have lacked early advantages, but he certainly has made the best of his later opportunities. He is a man of fine intellect; a ripe scholar, with broad and liberal views. His language is choice, and yet the fine phrases and well selected words seem to follow each other with great ease. His diction is neither stilted nor is it too simple but that of an intellectual man who is addressing intelligent people.
His voice, notwithstanding a certain and unmistakable nasal quality, is penetrating—and his elocutionary powers are great. I was on the last bench, with my back against the wall, and I heard almost every word. I could not follow the speaker quickly on account of his strong Scottish accent—“murdering” became “murrderring,” with a most decided roll of the r, and “Turks” came to me in two syllables, something like “Turreks,” while “earth” was changed to “airth,” with the r in the middle by no means slighted.
The speaker’s facial expressions were a study, and his gesticulations at times strikingly dramatic. He appealed in tender and pathetic tones to the hearts of his hearers, with hands uplifted as if in supplication, and then again he would raise his head and fold his arms across his chest in a Napoleonic, defiant attitude when combating the arguments of an imaginary adversary.
In fact, he does not seem to be addressing a large audience, but talking to and debating with but one person, and each person in the congregation might imagine that he was that one. He takes both sides in the debate, and makes both effective, but he carries the day for his own because he is on the side of right.
Dr. Macgregor closed the service with Hymn 117:
Arm of the Lord, awake, awake!
Put on Thy strength, the nations shake;
And let the world, adoring see
Triumphs of mercy wrought by Thee.
When the moderator is in the pulpit you do not notice that he is below the medium height; only when he steps down, and when you stand by his side, do you observe that he is small of stature—not much over five feet. His eye has a most kindly expression, his voice is pleasing in conversation, and his manner gracious and gentle. The accompanying portrait is reproduced from a photograph made by John Moffatt, 125 Princes street, Edinburgh.
On the day I had the good fortune to be present, there were in the congregation many prominent members of the Archæological Society of Scotland, who were on a temporary visit to Edinburgh, including the Bishop of Carlisle and the Earl of Percy, heir to the dukedom of Northumberland.
After the service I had the honor of being presented to Dr. Macgregor by a member of this society, in “The Moderator’s Room,” so inscribed on the door. Upon hearing that I was “from the States,” he immediately expressed his great admiration for the country and its form of government. He seemed to be well-informed regarding our people and the country, and said that one of his cherished hopes was to make us a visit.