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 ADDRESS 
 
 BY 
 
 
 JAN >; 
 
 >.^ MO.VfKLAlJ 
 
 ANDREW ROBERTSON, Esq, 
 
 AT THE 
 
 UBILEE GATHERING 
 
 '■'A 
 
 'M 
 
 ERSKINE CHURCH, MONTREAL. 
 
 30th April, 1883. 
 
 iO^«' 
 
 JHontceal : 
 
 D. BENTUEY & CO., Printers. 
 
 1883. 
 
ADDRESS 
 
 liV 
 
 ANDREW ROBERTSON Esq. 
 
 AT THE 
 
 BILEE GATHERING 
 
 ERSKINE CHURCH, MONTREAL, 
 
 30th April, 1883. 
 
 .o^o«- 
 
 D. BENTL.EY & CO., Priiitei-s. 
 
 1883. 
 
:^lil)rcs?:> bp JlubrctD flobcrt&ou, (gsq. 
 
 Mr. Chairmav, Members, Adherents, \Nn Im^iemds ok 
 Erskine Church : 
 
 Youth anticipates the future with hope and joy, 
 middle age generally finds enough to do in the present, old age 
 lives in, and recalls the past ; the latter is our case to-night, in 
 what we have heard from the respected gentlemen who have pre- 
 ceded me. 
 
 I heard you, Mr. Chairman, at a meeting of the congrega- 
 tion, held lately, indulge in some remarks on the past history of 
 the church, that made me think you were beginning to feel that 
 even you were no longer young, perhaps the more so, because I 
 had shortly before received a letter from an old and valued friend, 
 in which he indulged in the recollections of the past. It is so 
 quaintly written that I shall read an extract from it. After some 
 personal allusions, he thus moralizes : — 
 
 " * It is better to be wise than to be rich ; it is better to be 
 good than to be wise, and it is better to live more for the good 
 of others than for yourself.' Words of the wise man. After all, 
 we can only leave footprints on the sands, too true, to be often, 
 and soon, obliterated in time, still living in the great enduring 
 eternity. * Fai too Fait,' is a motto of universal application to 
 we sons of toil. What a narrow thing is life, all the more need to 
 use it well. You see I have fallen to moralizing ; no wonder, for 
 I write in bed, having been laid up for a week, and m my solitary 
 musings you came o'er my spirit. So you see you are not quite 
 forgotten — out of sight, out of mind. No, I have still a warm 
 side to many in Montreal — friends of forty years' standing. Ah, 
 me ! Since I saw you I have seen much. Bad times, bad 
 debts, bad weather, and bad harvests. Th/ugs are mending. 
 
When are you coming o\ cr again ? It would do you good. I wish 
 I could come to you, hut am ' thirld.' 'J'his will reach you near 
 the end of the year ; -nay the next be prosperous for you and 
 yours. I wi.sh you every good wish from the short present to the 
 great "unlimited."' 
 
 To-night I am privileged to give my recollections of the 
 past. In doing so, I feel that I am no longer young. Just 
 thirty years ago this very night, I landed in the city of Montreal. 
 The 30th day of that year was a Saturday, and on Sunday, ist 
 May, 1853, I entered the old church in Lagauchetiere street. 
 What memories in connection with the congregation crowd on 
 me during that long period of time, not only of the work done, 
 but of the workers with whom it was my good fortune to be asso- 
 ciated. 
 
 When I joined the church, in 1853, our annual revenue for 
 all puri)oses was about $2,000 a year. We were in debt, and had 
 hard work to make both ends meet, and we had no Missionary 
 Society. In 1855 Dr. Taylor tried to collect for missionary pur- 
 poses by subscriptions and collections, but the total amount up to, 
 and including 1856, only came to $714, or an average for the five 
 years of $[43. In iS6oa Missionary Society was established, and 
 that year alone, no less than $873 was collected, being six times 
 the previous annual average. In tS6i our first Annual Report 
 was printed, and from them I find that our annual income for 
 congregational purposes for that and two succeeding years averaged 
 only $2,272, while our Missionary and Benevolent collections had 
 increased to $1,500 per annum. 
 
 In April, 1S64, Dr. Taylor was laid up, and became so ill 
 that he felt it necessary to tender his resignation. After some 
 negotiations, it was agreed that he should have a colleague, but it 
 was found that our church, on Lagauchetiere street, would re- 
 quire to be enlarged, so as to get the revenue necessary to main- 
 tain the minister and his colleague. It was found impossible to 
 get additional land there. It was proposed by some that we 
 should sell our church and buy Cote Street Church, as it was feared 
 that we would not be able to build a new one. To this proposal I 
 
strongly objected, and with my valued friends, Messrs. Brown and 
 King, we were enabled to show that we could obtain the means to 
 build a new one. In a few days we had $iS,ooo promised for 
 the purpose ; and, having got this length, the question of site 
 then came up. At that time Knox and the American Churches 
 had secured sites on Dorchester street, and not to interfere with 
 them, we had to go farther, up to St. Catherine street. We then 
 had choice of four sites — one on St. Catherine street, near Alex- 
 ander street, one opposite the Cathedral, one on Cathcart street, 
 immediately behind the latter, and the one which we ultimately 
 decided on, and where we now are. At first it was looked on with 
 little favour. It was said to be too far away ; it was in a swamp ; 
 it would be impossible to reach it ; a creek ran past it, and my 
 venerable friend. Dr. Taylor, almost laughed me out of counten- 
 ance for proposing such a site. He, however, lived long enough 
 to admit to me that my judgment was correct. At that time, 
 nineteen years ago, I got a plan of the city prepared, which 
 showed that a majority of four members were living nearer the 
 present site than the old site of Lagauchetiere street. I also 
 pointed out that we had for years been walking to meet the rising 
 sun, and it was just as easy to walk towards the setting one for a 
 few years. These and other arguments carried the day, and here 
 we are. I was then in hope that a decade would enable us 
 to free the church from debt, but it was otherwise willed. 
 The organ question came up at that time. There had been 
 no deliverance from the Assembly of the church, as to the right 
 of congregations to introduce the organ. The question was, 
 therefore, necessarily delayed. Many of the members of the 
 congregation in favor of the organ then left and joined other con- 
 gregations where the organ was allowed, thereby weakening our 
 congregation in future voting for the organ, and delaying its in- 
 troduction. The latter, at that time, was to me a matter of little 
 consequence, although I was, for good reasons, ultimately forced 
 to assist in obtaining its introduction. During that year the As- 
 sembly, at its meeting, gave congregations permission to intro- 
 duce the organ, and in September the question was again raised, 
 resulting in a vote in favor of the organ. This was bitterly 
 
 i i 
 
6 
 
 opposed by the minority, and the matter was delayed for another 
 year, when the vote was again taken, showing such a decided 
 majority as enabled those in authority to go on and put in the 
 organ. Our dcf)t at that time was about $7,000 ; the organ 
 and alterations re(iuirt'd about ten thousand more. This put us 
 back again, but now it is satisfactory to be able to say with par- 
 donable pride, that we are a congregation free of debt, and that 
 we can now write on our banner, in this respect, "Nolli Secundus." 
 
 Now let me go back again tt) 1.S64 After we had decided 
 to Iniild the church, we had to find a colleague, and Dr. Taylor 
 was instructed to write to i 'r. Robson Dr. McFarlane, and Dr. 
 John Ker, in Glasgow, to see if they could induce any suitable per- 
 son to make a three months trip to Canada to visit us, thus to 
 give the congregation a chance of hearing them before a call was 
 decided upon. Dr. Taylor either did not understand what was 
 agreed upon, or exceeded his instructions, as I found out by a 
 friend of mine writing out to me, making inquiries as to the 
 church, cost of living, and other necessary enquiries, and stating 
 that the committee had asked him to go out and take the charge. 
 I at once Avrote back to him that they had not been empowered 
 to do that, and that I could not advise him to come, except he 
 was simply coming for a trip, which might eventually culminate in 
 a call. Dr. Ker was, I think, shown this communication, which 
 made him write me a letter on the subject, in which he clearly 
 set forth that it would be impossible to carry out our views, but 
 suggested that we should do what we could in Canada, and men- 
 tioned the name of a likely and clever young man whom he had 
 met, and thought well of, Mr. John Munroe Gibson, who was 
 then assisting the Rev. Dr. Ormiston, in Hamilton. The hint 
 was taken ; Mr. Gibson was invited to preach two or three Sab- 
 baths. He came, and having the pleasure of his company at my 
 house while in Montreal, I formed a very high opinion of his 
 character and abilities, which his career has since fully established. 
 
 He was unanimously called, accepted the call, and I need 
 scarcely say that the ten years he was with us he was universally 
 respected and esteemed, not only by his own congregation, but by 
 
all to whom he was known in Montreal, and that he left us to our 
 great regret. 
 
 This night also marks an epoch in this church's history. 
 We are entering on the eighteenth year in this buildini,'. On 
 the last Sabbath of April, seventeen years ago, this church was 
 formally opened ; but what a change this seventeen years has 
 made in the personcU of the congregation, and what results have 
 grown from the change of situation. Seventeen years is about 
 one-third of the life of the congregation. Let us look at its his- 
 tory for the first thirty-three years, and we find that for its 
 ordinary and building expenditure it did not reach $70,000, and 
 for its missionary and benevolent purposes, for the same time, did 
 not reach $10,000, or $80,000 for all purposes, or about $2,400 a 
 year. 
 
 During the seventeen years we have been here, we have 
 raised for congregational purposes about $100,000 ; for our 
 building $55,000, and have given to missionary and benevolent 
 purposes about $110,000, or $265,000 in all, an average of over 
 $15,500 per annum. I shall not enter into the details, as on an 
 occasion of this kind general statements are best, besides, my time 
 is limited, and while we can point with no little pride to the past, 
 we must not forget the future of the congregation. Fifty years 
 has passed, and our Jubilee has come. When the Centennial 
 gathering is held, who will be there ? Perhaps some now present 
 may see that day, but the greater number of those now hearing 
 me will have gone to the great " unlimited." Many of those who 
 are now young will also have gone before, but even of those who 
 are now young and active workers, will, if spared, be like those of 
 us who are now leading the van, and nearing the time when they 
 will be forced to cross that river from which no traveller 
 returns. 
 
 At a social meeting of the congregation held about a year 
 ago, I heard some remarks made by one of the elders of the con- 
 gregation as to each member remaining loyal to his church. At 
 that time, nor even now, do I take blame to myself, even although 
 I do not nov take that active interest in the management of the 
 
8 
 
 church that I did in former years, but I am sure that no one who 
 knows me will for a moment think that I can ever be anything 
 but loyal to Erskine Church ; but if there be, let me say to them, 
 that I can never forget the many warm friends that I have made 
 and lost in the congregation — perhaps I should rather say not lost, 
 but gone before. I cannot forget that eight of my children 
 are registered on its baptismal roll, nor that in course of time, and 
 of their own accord, six of them became members in full com- 
 rarnion ; nor can I forget that more than once in the history of 
 my family I have walked down these aisles to the joyful notes of 
 the wedding march. How can I ever forget that great and good 
 man, whose tablet is set in yonder corner ; a man who was my 
 counseller and friend for nearly a quarter of a century, and one 
 with whom I never had an unkind word — the late Rev. Hr. 
 Taylor ; and above and beyond all, I can never forget that 
 at my request, and at almost a moment's notice, he left his sea- 
 side resort to accompany and give that consolation, he was so well 
 able to bestow, to the sorrowing parents and distressed husband, 
 as they journeyed from the sea with the mortal remains of one 
 whose name he had registered on the baptismal, communion and 
 marriage rolls of this congregation, and whose last official act was 
 to see it inscribed on the last roll — the roll of death, and when dust 
 had been laid in dust, and the last sad rites had been performed. 
 Can I ever efface from my memory my parting from him, appar- 
 ently well and hopeful, at the Bonaventure Station, trusting again 
 to see each other shortly ; alas, to be obliged within one short 
 month, with other members of the congregation, to go to the same 
 station to bring his remains, and reverently place them on the spot 
 where I now stand. But I must forbear ; I think I have said enough 
 to show that I can never be otherwise than loyal to Erskine Church. 
 Now that my short story of the past is told, let me call your at- 
 tention to the present, and take a peep into the future. What are 
 we as a congregation to-day ? A congregation free of debt — a 
 congregation well organized, a congregation respected, and 
 pointed to by others, even of other denominations, as an example 
 worthy of imitation. Shall we stand still? I unhesitatingly 
 answer : No. When I look around me and see the many faces 
 
9 
 
 that are now before me, young, bright, and intelligent, not a few 
 of whom have already become worthy successors to their parents 
 in church work, I have no fear for the future of Erskine Church 
 in Montreal. We old men can, therefore, leave it with confidence 
 in your hands ; but let me say to you young men and women, that 
 the "race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ; 
 and to young and old, that the present only is ours, the future is 
 to us unknown." Therefore, 
 
 " Trust no future howe'er pleassnt ; 
 Let the dead pa«.t bury its dead ; 
 Art ! Act in the living present, 
 Heart within and God o'erhead: 
 
 " Art is long, and time is fleeting, 
 Aiid our hearts, though stout and brave. 
 Still, like muffled drums are beating 
 Funeral marches to the grave. 
 
 " Let us then be up and doing— 
 With a heart for any fate- 
 Still achieving, still pursuing, 
 Learn to labor and to wait."