Among the miscellanea of church finance as concerning expenditure the following should, undoubtedly, have place. The stool of repentance—imposing and certainly not cheap—deserves some prominence. “Given to Andrew Stone, wricht, 22s., and 2s. to his man, for mending and repairing the stoole of repentance;” and “David Nimmo, wricht in Lintoun, compeirit, and desyrit payment for making and repairing the stoole for repentance. The minister and elders herewith advysit; deliverit to him, out of the box, aucht pounds, and sax shillings to his sonne, and twentie s. to James Paterson, mason,” are two suggestive items. Alexander Sherrie receives six shillings on April 19, 1635, “to buy poudder with to shett the dowes in the kirk, becaus they filet the seitts.” At Cullen Parish Church, in the session records for 1703, the treasurer writes:—“For a calf’s skinn to be a cover to ye Kirke bible, 7s. For dressing ye skinn bought to cover ye Kirke bible, and alm’d leither to fasten ye cover to ye brods, and for sowing thereof, 10s. For keepers to ye clasps, brass nails putting on ye stoods, and gluing loose leaves, 14s.” Dr Russell, writing in his “Reminiscences of Yarrow,” about his father’s pastorate in the Vale of Ettrick, says, “At the first Martinmas of my father’s incumbency, Robin (Robert Hogg, the father of the Ettrick Shepherd) came to him and said, ‘Sir, Mr Potts (the predecessor of Dr Russell’s father) used always to allow me five shillings of the collections in the kirk at this time, for gathering the bawbees, in order to buy a pair of shoon!’ But to his disappointment, my father replied that he could not take it on him to make this application of the public money.” The beadle, however, sometimes got the price of a pair of shoes; and in one book, in 1615, we have “Nota (a word scarcely ever used) That in all the gatherings for the poor there is the price of ane pint of ale, that collect which is set doun in the session-books, because of the pains which the clerk of the kirkmen taks in going thrice aboot the toune, and ance efternoon. This custom of giving sae mickle to the beadle has been ust of ald in this parish.”
In February, 1733, a certain Jean Hall, a pauper in the parish of Morebattle, dies, and on the 16th of the month James Robson, in Kirk Yetholm, receives £3, 14s. 3d. for “cheese, tobacco, and pipes” provided at the funeral. “The digging of the grave, the crying of deceased’s effects at the roup, and the ringing of the ‘passing-bell’ are all provided for by the treasurer, out of his continually replenishing and inexhaustible kirk-box.” At one time thirty shillings is given for a winding sheet for a “dead corpse” which came in on the sands of Aldhame, and, at another, twenty-five shillings is given for one for a man “quha came in Peffersand and was buryed the last week.” Sometimes twelve shillings is given to a man for reading and singing at the communion, and, occasionally, as much as twenty pounds is given to buy a horse, “seing he had ane horse deid latly, and fallen abak in meins;” or there is given out of the penalties to Alexander Sherrie, “for mending and translating the pulpitt, ane dollar.” (In the writer’s article, “Witchcraft and the Kirk,” in the present volume, reference is made to expenditure occasioned by the imprisonment and execution of witches.)
Help is given to Dundee for a new harbour, to North Esk for a bridge, and to Glasgow because of a disastrous fire. Even “a collection for the Northern Infirmity” is mentioned, but this is an obvious reference to the Northern Infirmary.
One closing quotation must suffice:—“May 2.—The minister also shew to the elderis that the bishop, at the last Provinciall Assemblie, haldin at Edinburghe, the twentie of April 1619, ordainis everie minister to bring ye contribution for ye students of ye new colledge in Saint Androis, and everie minister to give it to ye moderator of the presbiterie quhair he dwellis, that it micht be sent to Saint Androis. The minister shew to ye elderis that ye kirk of Tyninghame was ordainit to pay thre lib. yerlie. The elderis wer unwilling to grant thairto. The minister shew them that everie kirk was appointit to pay, and that he wald give 20s. out of his awin purse to that effect, seing thair was little in the box, and many puir in the parishe. They grantit thairto, bot with some regraits.” “May 9.—The said day takin out of the box 34s., and 6s. of Jhone Walker’s penaltie; and Maister Jhone (the minister) gave 20s. out of his awin purse to make out thre lib. to be given for ye qtribution to ye studentis in the new colledge at St. Androis.” This is but one among many contributions made by the minister to fulfil obligations resting on the kirk.
Witchcraft and the Kirk.
By the Rev. R. Wilkins Rees.
For centuries belief in witchcraft was an article of faith with dour and brooding Scots. The Scot was made by Scotland; the country stamped an indelible impress on every characteristic of its inhabitants. With much truth it has been said, “From the cradle to the grave the Scotch peasant went his way attended by the phantoms of this mysterious world; always recognising its warnings, always seeing the shadows which it cast of coming events, and so burdening himself with a weight of grim and eëry superstition, that we marvel he did not stumble and grow faint, seeing that his dreary Calvinistic creed could have brought him little hope or comfort. Nay, it is a question whether his superstition did not partly grow out of, or was fostered by, his hard, cold religion. Superstition is the shadow of Religion, and from the shadow we may infer the nature of the substance or object that casts it.”
There are traditions concerning witchcraft, even earlier than that of the fourth century which credits his Satanic Majesty with such a hatred of St. Patrick’s sterling piety that he roused the whole tribe of witches against him. St. Patrick fled from the determined assault, and finding, near the mouth of the Clyde, a boat, set off in haste for Ireland. But running water being ever an insuperable barrier in the path of a witch’s progress, these emissaries of Satan tore up a huge rock and hurled it after the departing saint. With the proverbial inaccuracy of feminine aim they missed their mark, but the mass itself ultimately became the fortress of Dumbarton. In those early days the marvels of witchcraft were great and many—Holinshed, among others, has chronicled the same—and, at the close of the seventh century, King Kenneth, fearful of his own safety and the stability of his throne, decreed that jugglers, wizards, necromancers, and such as call up spirits, “and use to seek upon them for helpe, let them be burnt to death.”