From a wide, panoramic vista of grey and bluish tints and yellow and purple-brown, with moorland and mountain, brawling streams and solemn pines, and away, toward the west a dreamy glimpse of the restless sea, the outlook narrows- a grey road, bordered with trees, zig-zags down a steep hill, Sorn Castle peeps through interlacing boughs, the Ayr, unmoved, receives the tributary Cleugh, and the bridge of Sorn, as if in high disdain, arches its back over the pellucid stream it spans. In a quiet corner, under the shadow of the pine-clad hill, the white head stones clustering to its door, stands the Kirk of Sorn. It is a quaint little building, with outside stairs and open belfry, and tiny cross, raised like a benediction above its ancient walls; a relic, surely, that same cross, of the stormy days when the church was new and the royal Stewarts thought that by a mere command they could sway the minds and hearts of men and establish a uniform religion in their dominion; or, is it but a later symbol of truer catholicity- the spirit which looks beyond the stereotyped forms, which holds as nothing the divisions in the household of faith, and sees only in the Cross the symbol of humility, the tree on which the God-man died?
The little church standing in the midst of the God's acre, with its background of the deep green of the pines, and in Autumn the brilliant flush of the beech trees, is quietly and peacefully picturesque and beautiful. In Summer, a crimson flare of roses, like the glory of a sunrise, covers its walls, and in Autumn the Gloires des Dijon hang their heads bashfully as they peep through the pointed windows, and the Virginian Creeper dyes the stones with its crimson death. There are ivies too, broad-leaved and variegated, raising their clinging arms about the ancient Kirk; low growing still the plants are, and young, for an ivy-tree speaks of ruin and desolation, and the church is still strong and fair to look upon. And the river Ayr sings a lullaby as it hurries onward, past the churchyard to the sea- a cradle song to the dead who died so young, for surely life is but the infancy of immortality a slumber song to the tired workers who have lain down to sleep, wearied with the heat and labours of the day- but ever bearing in its softest, sweetest notes, like petals folding over the heart of a flower, the burden of hope and expectation -
Till they waken on yon bright Sabbath morning
The parish of Sorn began its ecclesiastical history in a very stirring time. The church was built in the middle of the seventeenth century, and, like many other works of men's hands, it survived change and upheaval, while the men who raised its walls fell, if not before an earthly power, certainly before the grim enemy, Death. Like the leaves of Autumn, they were swept away, but like the leaves, they died to live again, for the influence of strong men in this little, quiet spot, and of others like it, has not died with them, nor will it ever die for with bleeding hands they helped to raise on high the chief corner-stone of our Scottish constitution. The bravery of those peasants is almost beyond belief. And for what did they suffer and die? For something so subtle that the broader (more indifferent, may it be said) mind of to-day can scarcely grasp it. And yet had they missed it, surely we had missed a greater blessing! The church was built in 1658, as a tablet in the will bears testimony, but it was not until 1692 that it was opened as a Presbyterian parish church. Up till that time Sorn had a nominal connection with Mauchline, but the parish was then completely severed and the church provided with a minister of its own. The church, manse, and glebe were all on the estate of Dalgain, and at first the parish was called by that name, but the near proximity of the church to the castle of Sorn associated it with the name of Sorn, and when the estate of Dalgain was merged into that of Sorn, the name, Dalgain, was completely dropped. The church is built of the abundant sand-stone of the district, greyish pink in colour rather than the deep red of the new red stone-stone of the Ballochmyle quarries. Although two centuries and a half, almost, have passed since the kirk was erected it still retains its pretty, delicate tint, and is as fresh and undiscoloured as if newly built. More than a century ago, in 1788, the galleries were added, and in the style of the period, economical both as regards space and money, the stairs were built outside. Each of the three separate galleries has a stair for itself and is quite shut off in the interior of the church from the others, so that it is impossible for one in one gallery, or loft, as such erections were first called, to reach the other, without descending the outside stairs. The church was re-seated at the same time, and probably floored, for very few country churches had other than earthen floors until that date, and some for long after. The church was again re-seated in 1826, and the roof raised.
The interior of the church is fresh and pleasant. It is prettily painted and decorated, and the pulpit and seats are of pitch pine. It is well lighted too, with pointed windows set deep within the thick walls. Behind the pulpit is a small, round window filled with tinted glass, not a rose-window, nor even a miniature of such an ecclesiastical feature of architecture, but rather like the windows of staircases in ancient Scottish dwelling-houses, through which women thrust their heads to gaze up and down the narrow streets. On each side of the pulpit there is a tall, pointed window in stained glass, one in memory of the Somervells of Sorn, the other of one of the Farquhars of Gilmilnscroft. They are both beautiful windows, with quiet, rich colouring, and give an air of distinction to this little country church. One has the crest of the Somervell family- an anchor-and their motto, "Hold fast," ard bears the following inscription: "In memory of Graham Somervell, of Hamilton's Farm and Sorn, born 15th January, 1819, died 11th November, 1881; and Louis Somervell, Lieutenant 74th highland Light Infantry, born 1st June, 1858, fell at Tel-el-Kebir, 13th September, 1882. Presented by the widow and mother." The other window is also in memory of a gallant young soldier. It bears the Farquhar coat of arms and the motto, "Mente manque" (By mind and hand). The inscription is as follows :~" Trevor Farquhar, Gilmilnscroft, died October 23rd, 1882, aged 22. Erected by his brother officers, 78th Seaforth Highlanders." The young officer, who fell so early in life's day, met his death by fever, in the Black Mountain expedition. There is also a brass tablet on the church wall to the memory of the Rankens of Glenlogan, rather an unusual mural monument in a Scottish country church. Two of the galleries belong respectively to the estates of Sorn and Gilmilnscroft, and the third to Dalgain but is occupied by the tenants on that portion of Sorn property. Mr Somervell and Mr Farquhar are the only two resident heritors. Each seat in the area of the church has the name of the seat holder painted upon it, or the name of the estate to which it belongs. Thus some seats have "Ballochmyle "-part of Ballochmyle estate being in the parish of Sorn- others "Auchmannoch," one "Schoolmaster," and some are merely "Parish." Possibly those happy beings belonging simply to the parish are the only members who have the privilege of changing their sittings. There is an air of permanency about a name painted upon the wood, which a little card in a mere frivolous slit, does not possess. What would members of a city church think of such a thing- they who flit about like bees seeking honey, or, perhaps, more like butterflies In front of the pulpit are two handsome lamps presented by the Women's Guild. There is also a harmonium, used in the Sunday School, presented by the same institution, both as results of sales of needle-work of the Guild. There is no instrumental music in the ordinary Sunday services, and the old fashion of having a precentor still holds good. The present precentor has held his honourable position for forty-seven years, and his predecessor "raised the tunes" for forty-two years. That is surely a record in holding such an office- only two men during the greater portion of a century. A story is told of the former precentor and a former minister, which illustrates the homely ways of church services long ago. The minister had unwisely given out a Psalm without first submitting it to his faithful musical henchman, whereupon the old man turned round and chid the worthy minister in the pulpit-" There's nae tune to that yin," he said. The Psalm was changed.
In 1892 the bi-centenary of the church was held, a great function for this quiet rural parish. A special service was held, when the Rev. John Keith, B.D. of Largs, officiated. The parishioners collected a very handsome sum among themselves and presented new Communion cups of solid silver to the church to take the place of the former cups of pewter, which bear the date 1811. The new cups arc of very artistic design and were made by an Edinburgh firm whose speciality is ecclesiastical work of such a kind. The style belongs to the period of 1616-1618, when Gilbert Kirkwood was famed for the chaste and beautiful designs, which he furnished to many of the churches of the day. The Sorn cups are modelled after two of his patterns, the stem being the same as supplied to the church of Fyvie, and the bowl like that of Blantyre. The congregation at the same time presented two solid silver patens for the Communion service. The following inscription encircles the outer rim: "Gifted to the church of Sorn by the parishioners, on the occasion of the bi-centenary of the parish, 1892."
Old tokens of the Communion at Sorn are still in existence, the oldest bearing the date 1736, and the most recent 1863. The first of these belongs to the days of tent preaching and great gatherings from far and wide. It is within the memory of people still living that an inn was removed, a very pretty country inn, standing picturesquely near the church and mill, an inn to which many of the worthy people retired between the long services of Communion Sunday, and varied the religious services with copious refreshments. But in every great enthusiastic gathering there is an element of the unworthy, and when that element dominated the better the system came to an end. Burns's satire undoubtedly hastened its downfall. The stipend of Sorn is 175 boIls of victual with £37 in money. This being considered inadequate for the requirements of the parish, especially in these times of depreciation, a movement was set on foot for the further endowment of the living by voluntary contribution. With the help of the Church and the Baird Trust, a sum of £1000 has been invested for the benefit of the parish in all time coming. The new income from this source is £30. Considerable credit is due to Mr. Somervell, the chief heritor, the minister, and others, who brought the movement to a successful termination in May, 1897.
The manse of Sorn has always been one of the best in the district. Mr. Steel rebuilt the first manse, and his successors added to it, and in the Statistical Account of a hundred years ago Dr. Gordon has only pleasant things to say of it-" While other Manses, within the bounds of this Presbytery, have been built and rebuilt, some of them more than once, the manse of Sorn has already stood firm and unbroken for nearly sixty years, and will probably do so for many years to come. It likewise still maintains a respectable station among its neighbours, even in a country where the heritors have of late displayed a commendable liberality in the building and repairing of churches and manses." Fifty years later, the Rev. John Stewart writes of it-" If thoroughly repaired it might prove a comfortable manse for some time to come. An almost entirely new and commodious manse was built shortly after that date, the study of the old manse being retained, which must have been in use considerably over a century now. Dr. Rankine added oriel windows to the manse, and with its large and beautiful garden and attractive situation it still holds its place in the forefront as a residence for a country parish minister. The glebe, which consisted at first of a little over five acres, was enlarged in 1793 to nine Scots acres, Dr. Gordon, the then incumbent, representing that five acres necessitated keeping a man, and therefore did not pay the cost of working, while nine acres was sufficient to cover the necessary expense and possibly a little over. The large garden, with fine old fruit trees, and shrubs, and old-fashioned walks of grass, forms no inconsiderable feature of the attractions of the manse of Sorn.