Rev Donald Beaton
Among Highland parishes made famous by the ministry of noted preachers, an outstanding place must be given to Lochcarron. Here for many years the saintly Lachlan Mackenzie ministered, and the name of the parish is indissolubly linked with his. Prior to Lachlan Mackenzie’s ministry, Lochcarron was privileged to enjoy the ministry of Aeneas Sage, who had a sore and trying struggle in dealing with the people, who did not hide their hatred to Presbyterian church government and the ministers who, by the new order of things, were placed over them.
The records of the Presbytery of Gairloch have a number of entries indicating the turbulent attitude of the people within its bounds. For instance, in giving instructions to their commissioners to the General Assembly, the Presbytery represent to the Assembly that they have “not access to settle the vacancies in their bounds, because of the violent opposition given by the enemies of the present establishment, and [requesting] that a Select Committee may be appointed by the Assembly to consider of this and other grievances in their bounds”. The Presbytery had to invoke the strong arm of the civil
1Taken, with some editing, from The Free Presbyterian Magazine, vol 23. The series of articles, of which this was one, was published as Some Noted Ministers of the Northern Highlands, and was reprinted in paperback by Free Presbyterian Publications; it is available from the Free Presbyterian Bookroom at £5.00.
and military authority to maintain ecclesiastical order, and as late as 11 February 1726, it is minuted at one of their meetings: “The missioners having represented that they met with very barbarous and rude treatment in the bounds of this Presbytery, [the Court] appointed the Moderator to write a particular account thereof to the Sheriff Principal of Ross, and to crave that proper measures may be taken to secure both missioners and residing ministers from such insult in time coming”.
It was over a parish in which such a state of matters existed that Aeneas Sage was ordained on 10 February, 1726. Aeneas was the son of Murdoch Sage and was born on 12 March 1694 at Chapelton, a small farm on the Black Isle, in Ross-shire. About 1715 he entered King’s College, Aberdeen, and on 18 August 1725 he was licensed by the Presbytery of Tain. Prior to his ordination, he acted as missionary within that Presbytery.
Sage was not only well equipped spiritually for his heavy task, but he was also endowed with great muscular strength, which stood him in good stead many a time as the only kind of argument that appealed to some of his parishioners. “In bodily stature,” says his grandson, Rev Donald Sage, Resolis, “Aeneas Sage approached the gigantic. He was six feet two inches in height, with dark eyes and hair, and with more than ordinary strength. His zeal as a minister, the rough subjects he had to deal with, and the rude age he lived in, rendered this last quality of no ordinary service to him.”
The following incident shows that Aeneas Sage was quite capable of dealing with rough material. On the evening previous to his settlement at Lochcarron, he was lodged in a barn which, during the night, was set on fire. Mr Sage pursued and gripped him just as he was about to enter his own door. He was dragged back to the scene of his crime and, while expecting nothing but a terrible flogging from the powerful minister, he received quite unexpected treatment.
He was asked why he had set the barn on fire, and frankly confessed it was to rid the parish of the new “Whig minister”; “but I am now in your power, and take your revenge,” he added. “We shall do so,” said Sage, “but mark well how we do it.” Meat and drink were then provided, and God’s blessing asked. The culprit, after his exciting adventures, had a good appetite and ate heartily. “You came here,” said Sage, addressing him, “with no less certain intention than to deprive me of my life. I have returned good for evil. Go and tell your neighbours how the Whig ministers avenge their wrongs.” The man was deeply grateful, and did not fail to tell his neighbours, as Sage’s grandson facetiously adds, of the minister’s generosity and his great strength.
In 1728, Sage married Elizabeth, eldest daughter of John Mackay, formerly
minister of Durness, and latterly of Lairg. Mackay, like Sage, had a heavy task before him when he became minister of Lairg in 1714, and many are the stories that have been handed down from past generations telling of the rough and ready methods used by this gracious and able minister of the New Testament, in taming a wild people. The manses at the beginning of the eighteenth century were very far removed in comfort and commodiousness from the goodly houses that generally now shelter the parish ministers throughout the Highlands. Sage’s manse was “about 100 feet long, the walls were built of stone for about three feet in height above the foundation and around the roots of the couples which were previously fixed in the ground; over this were several layers of turf, so as to bring the wall to the height of 10 feet. The whole was then thatched with heather.” To this humble home Sage took his young bride and here, through joys and sorrows, they spent their lives serving the best of all Masters, and in the noblest of all services.
It is interesting to note, as recorded in the Presbytery records, that the sermon preached at Sage’s ordination, by Archibald McQueen, minister of Snizort, Skye, was from the text, “Son of man, go, get thee unto the house of Israel, and speak with My words unto them. For thou art not sent to a people of a strange speech and of a hard language . . . whose words thou canst not understand. Surely, had I sent thee to them, they would have hearkened unto thee. But the house of Israel will not hearken unto thee, for they will not hearken unto Me, for all the house of Israel are impudent and hardhearted. Behold, I have made thy face strong against their faces, and thy forehead strong against their foreheads. As an adamant harder than flint have I made thy forehead; fear them not, neither be dismayed at their looks, though they be a rebellious house” (Ezek 3:4-9).
Sage was to learn, to his cost, how rebellious his parishioners were and, in the depressing struggle, the courage of the good man failed, for we find him in 1731, five years after his ordination, petitioning the Presbytery. Sage’s own words give the best idea of what he had to face, the following sentences from his petition may be quoted: “Your petitioner was very much encouraged to take his life in his hand, and to venture upon a work incredible to man, to have any success, especially by me, who had not the least acquaintance or friendship with the people amongst whom I was to travail; and indeed, at first sight, and after some time spent amongst them, so much of prejudice and spite against the very name of Presbytery showed itself so evidently that I dare declare none would venture to stay amongst them, save he who would be esteemed rather any way pious than cautiously wise for himself.
“Secondly. That notwithstanding what melancholy impressions I had of my circumstances as above, yet I was bold enough, through Christ strengthen-
ing me, even to accept of a call from this Presbytery to be minister of Lochcarron, in the year 1726; merely to pave the way, if it was practicable, for settling the bounds with a gospel ministry, though it should be at the peril of my life, in which indeed I was. Four nights before my ordination some of the country people set fire to the house where I was lodged, when they thought two ministers from Skye were in bed with me, and this attempt upon my life might have for once deterred me from settling there, and have given me a just title to the ordinary favour and sympathy of this Church, in such cases, towards several who have been so treated by people disaffected to our constitution; but I was so far from being discouraged by this very bitter welcome to my flock, that I did not so much as make the least complaint of it, in a judicial manner, to this day.
“Thirdly. That upon several occasions afterwards there were plots laid either to shoot me on the highway or to drown me, of which I have been particularly informed, whether to terrify me from my work or out of disaffection to my person I know not, the informers being almost entirely strangers to me.”
He further adds: “That he had to travel no less than nine hundred miles in one year [outside] his charge. That prejudices against his person have vented themselves sufficiently by abusing his character, raising infamous libels and reports against him, and accusing him to the people of the worst of crimes, to the withdrawing from him of a third part of his congregation at least. That he never had one farthing of stipend from his heritors without the utmost of law diligence . . . against them. . . . How is it possible I can stand it out any longer, in such pitiful and pinching circumstances as I am in, but notwithstanding of all this, and though I should be reduced to rags and a piece of bread, I would never give up my charge, nor part with my flock, did I find they could be edified by me, or that my ministry had the least moral evidence for success amongst them. . . . But it appears to me, to my great grief and sorrow, that my work is at an end in this corner, and that another not so odious to the people and heritors will be more acceptable to them, and more useful to their souls.”
The Presbytery refused to grant his request, but as the weary years passed by, there were signs that the seed sown with tears was beginning to bear fruit. One or two striking instances may be mentioned as illustrating this. It had been the custom of the people to gather on a plot of ground and engage in games every Lord’s Day, almost at the church door. Grieved with such irreligious conduct by his unruly flock, Sage watched his opportunity, if by any means he might put an end to these God-dishonouring practices. As the people retired from their sports one day, Sage accosted one of them, and
made a bargain with him, to the effect that, if he would come to the church and bring his family with him, the minister would give him a pound of snuff. The bargain was faithfully kept on both sides, but the sequel is interesting as showing how God can work in the hearts of godless men.
In the course of his pulpit ministry, Sage one day preached from the text, “What shall it profit a man if he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” At the end of the service, the minister came as usual with the snuff to offer it to the man, but he turned away with tears, saying: “No, sir, I receive that no longer. Too long have I been hearing God’s Word for hire; today I have heard it to my condemnation.” Such was the beginning of a new spiritual life that afterwards found fruition in a beautiful Christian character, evidencing the genuineness of the momentous change that took place that day, when this man heard, for the first time, the searching and solemn words of the Saviour of the lost.
Another case, seemingly more hopeless than the foregoing, but again illustrating clearly how God can turn the most wicked from the error of their ways, is seen in the conversion of a small proprietor who lived a licentious life. Greatly daring, Sage announced one Sabbath that he intended having a diet of catechising in the man’s house. On the day appointed, the minister arrived at the house and, on knocking at the door, was asked by the proprietor what brought him there? “I come,” said Sage, “to discharge my duty to God, to your conscience, and to my own.” “I care nothing for any of the three;” was the contemptuous answer, “out of my house, or I’ll turn you out.” “Easier said than done,” Sage coolly replied.
This was enough; no further challenge was required; the proprietor made at once for his powerful antagonist, but the minister was more than a match for him, and he had him soon completely under his control. Procuring a rope, he tied his arms and feet firmly, and then called the people, who had gathered for the catechising, to come into the house. When the catechising was over, he then dealt with the delinquents, and particularly directed his searching remarks to the bound proprietor. The minister’s words were evidently blessed by the Holy Ghost, as the proprietor from that day gave up his licentiousness and, not only so, but he became a decided Christian.
As already stated, the dreary winter of spiritual dearth was gradually passing away, and the welcome spring, followed by summer, was now at hand. And before he passed away, Sage was privileged to see a fruitful harvest of the seed sown in such discouraging circumstances at the beginning of his ministry. “The light of that gospel,” says his grandson, “which he had faithfully preached, had arisen in full strength, and the gloom of ignorance and prejudice had passed away. Converts to the faith of the gospel became con-
spicuous, alike by their numbers and by their character, and constituted, if not the majority, at least the most influential portion of the parishioners.”
Still he had to maintain his position against those in authority, and his rough and ready method in doing so is seen in his treatment of Calan Dearg (Red Colin), Lord Seaforth’s factor.2 The factor was the supreme authority in the parish and did not relish the place given to the minister, but matters were at length brought to an issue when the factor, after collecting the rents, refused to pay the minister’s stipend.
Calan Dearg, knowing the man he had to deal with, immediately set off to Brahan Castle, but he was overtaken by Sage. “Colin,” said the minister, “I am come to get what you owe me.” The factor drew his sword but, by skilfully parrying the stroke, the minister got to grips with his man, broke the sword in pieces, and before Colin knew where he was, Sage had his head thrust up the chimney. The factor capitulated, with as much becoming dignity as one in his confined and uncomfortable position could muster, but he never forgot his humiliation or forgave the minister. This was seen on the occasion when Sage rebuked Lord Seaforth and his retinue, who intended prosecuting their journey to Lewis on the Sabbath. Seaforth was ready to take the minister’s rebuke and desist from his intention. But Red Colin swept away any hesitation in Seaforth’s mind, with the sneering words: “Never mind what the old carle3 says, my Lord; let us continue our journey; we need all our time.”
Turning to the factor, Sage solemnly and deliberately addressed him: “Colin, mark my words, you are now on a journey which you shall not repeat; you are going on a way by which you shall not return.” A few months afterwards, on his return journey, Red Colin went down in an open boat in the waters of the Minch,4 never to be heard of again. Such a striking coincidence, with the minister’s address to him, made a profound impression on the people, and they were ready to attribute prophetic powers to him. But Sage disclaimed all such honours. “No, I am not a prophet,” he said, “but judgement, I know, will follow upon sin.”
The last days of the once-powerful minister, whose earthly tabernacle was surely but gradually breaking down in extreme old age, are full of interest. On his deathbed, as the weakness of death was all too surely undermining the once-strong constitution, his eyes were closed as if shut to the world. The sobs of his daughter arrested his attention. Opening his eyes, he turned to her, saying, “Mary, weep not as those who have no hope, for if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will
2The factor was the landowner’s local representative.
3Possibly “a man”; perhaps more likely “a clown”.
4The stretch of sea separating the Isle of Lewis from the Scottish mainland.
God bring with Him”. Then, feeling he had reached the end of his earthly journey, he said, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit”. These were his last words. It is a beautiful ending to a ministerial life, in which there was much disappointment at its beginning. The sure hope of entering on that sleep, from which none ever wake to weep, showed how securely he had cast his anchor within the veil, where the Forerunner, even Jesus, had entered. He died on 15 July 1774, at the patriarchal age of 88 years and after 47 years of ministry.
To show the change that had come over his parishioners, we cannot do better than quote his grandson’s words: “His burial was attended by the parishioners – men, women, and children – who long and deeply felt their bereavement, for many of them had become true and vital Christians through his ministry, and were themselves the primitive fathers of the spiritual generations that followed them”. In his case the Psalmist’s words found a fitting application:
“That man who, bearing precious seed, in going forth doth mourn,
He doubtless, bringing back his sheaves, rejoicing shall return” (Ps 126:6).