“AN uair a thig Mac an duine ’na ghloir, agus na h-aingil naomha uile maille ris, an sin suidhidh e air cathair rioghail a ghloire: agus cruinnichear ’na lathair na h-uile chinnich; agus sgaraidh e iad o cheile, amhail a sgaras buachaille na caoraich o na gabhraibh. Agus cuiridh e na caorich air a laimh dheis, ach na gabhair air a laimh chli. An sin their an Righ riusan air a dheis, Thigibh a dhaoine beannuichte m’Atharsa, sealbhuichibh mar oighreachd an rioghachd a ta air a deasachadh dhuibh o leagadh bunaitean an domhain. Oir bha mi ocrach, agus thug sibh dhomh biadh; bha mi tartmhor agus thug sibh dhomh deoch; lomnachd, agus dh’ eudaich sibh mi: bha mi euslan, agus thainig sibh a m’ ionnsuidh. An sin freagraidh na fireana e, ag radh, A Thighearna c’uin a chunnaic sinn thu ocrach, agus a bheathaich sinn thu? no tartmhor agus a thug sinn deoch dhuit? No c’uin a chunnaic sinn a’ d’ choigreach thu agus a thug sinn aoidheachd dhuit? no lomnachd agus a dh’ eudaich sinn thu? No c’uin a chunnaic sinn euslan thu, no am priosan agus a thainig sinn a t’ ionnsuidh. Agus freagraidh an Righ, agus their e riu, Gu deimhin a deiream ribh, a’ mheud ’s gun do rinn sibh e do h-aon de na braithribh is lugha agamsa, rinn ribh dhomhsa e.
An sin their e mar an ceudna riubh-san air a laimh chli, Imichibh uam, a shluagh mallaichte, dhionnsuidh an teine shiorruidh, a dh’ ullaicheadh do’n diabhol agus d’a ainglibh: Oir bha mi ocrach, agus cha d’thug sibh dhomh biadh; bha mi tartmhor, agus cha d’ thug sibh dhomh deoch; bha mi ’m choigreach, agus cha d’ thug sibh aoidheachd dhomh; lomnachd, agus cha d’ eudaich sibh mi; euslan, agus an priosan, agus cha d’ thainig sibh g’am amharc. An sin freagraidh iadsan, mar an ceudna e, ag radh. A Thighearna c’uin a chunnaic sinne thu ocrach, no tartmhor, no d’ choigreach, no lomnachd, no euslan, no’m priosan, agus nach do fhritheil sinn dhuit? An sin freagraidh esan iad, ag radh, Gu deimhin a deiream ribh, a mheud ’s nach d’ rinn sibh e do’n neach a’s lugha dhiu so, cha d’ rinn sibh dhomh-sa e.
Agus imichidh iadsan chum peanais shiorruidh; ach na fireana chum na beatha maireannaich” (Matt. xxv. 31-46).
Nach solaimte, a Leughadair, an sealladh a tha’n so air a chur fa d’ chomhair! cha sgeulachd a dhealbhadh le duine th’ann, ach firinn Dhe. ’Se so an latha ris an abrar anns na scriobtuiribh, “latha Dhe”—“là an Tighearna”—“latha foillseachaidh breitheanas cothromach Dhe”—“an la deirionnach”—agus, a nochdadh co cudthromach ’s a tha e osceann gach la eile—“an la sin.”
O’n earrainn do’n scriobtur a rinn thu direach a leughadh tha thu faicinn co bhios na bhreitheamh air an la ud.—“Mac an duine”—IOSA, neach am feadh a bha e ’s an fheoil air an d’ rinneadh dimeas, agus a chuireadh air cul le daoinibh—agus, a’m
meadhon spid agus ainiochd a thug suas an deo, air a chrann-cheusaiddh, air sliabh Chalbhari.—Thig e na ghloir, agus na h-angil naomha uile maille ris, agus suidhidh e air caithir rioghail a gloire: oir, “thug Dia mar an ceudna dha ùghdarras chum breth a thabbhairt, do bhrigh gur e Mac an duine” (John v. 27). Feudaiddh peacaich an crann-ceusaiddh a chur an suaraicheas, ach cha chuir iad an suaraicheas an righ-chaithir: oir, “Feuch, tha e teachd le neulaibh, agus chi gach sùil e, agus iadsan mar an ceudna ’lot e: agus ni uile threubha na talmhainn caoidh air a shonsan. Gu ma h-amhluidh ’bhitheas, Amen” (Rev. i. 7). An lathair a Bhreitheamh so tionalar gach uile chinnich—gach ginealach a ghluais air aghaidh na talmhainn o thoiseach gu deireadh aimsire! Is diamhain dhuit beachdeachadh air meud a cho-chruinnich so; cha-n urrainn d’ innntin a ghabhail a steach. B’ fhearr leam thu ’chumail do smuaintean aig baile—thu stad agus thu thoirt fainear gum bi thu fein do’n aireamh: agus an uair a nochdas am Breitheamh, “aig am bheil a shuile mar lasair theine,” gné nam muilleinibh do-aireamh, agus a sgaras e iad, amhuil a sgaras buachaille na caoraich o na gabhraibh, a’ cur na’n caoraich air a laimh dheis, ach nan gabhar air a laimh chli, gum feum thusa, aon chuid d’ ait a ghabbail le gairdeachas air a dheis, no le ball-chrit agus an dochas air a laimh chli. Feoraich dhiot fein—“Nam faighin bas a nis, co dhiu comunn d’ am buinnn air la ’bhreitheanis?” Theagamh gun dean na tha romhain do’n leabhran so do chuideachadh chum a cheist a fhreagairt. Is ceist anmharr cudthromach i, tha moran an earbsa rithe—beann-achadh siorruidh, agus mallachadh siorruidh. Theid iadsan air an laimh chli chum peanais siorruidh, ach iadsan air an laimh dheis chum beatha mhaireannaich.
Fuilng dhomh car tiotain, leughadair, oir is ann chum leas t-anama a bheiream gu h-aithghearr oidheirp air cliu agus cor deirionnach na da chuideachd so ’chur f’ad chomhair. Bithidh so soilleir dhuit, shaoilinn, maille ris an steidh air am faigh iad am binn, ma bheir thu aire cheart do na nithe a leanas.
Tha e soilleir o na scriobtuiribh gun teid breth ’thoirt air daoinne do reir an gniomharra. “Oir thig Mac an duine ann an gloir ’Athar, maille r’a ainglibh; agus an sin bheir e do gach neach a reir an gniomharra” (Matt. xvi. 27).—“Oir is eiginn duinn uile bhi air ar nochdadh an lathair caitthir bhreitheanais Chriosd; chum gu faigh gach neach na nithe ’rinn e sa cholunn, a reir an ni a rinn e, ma’s maith no olc e” (2 Cor. v. 10). “Agus chunnaic mi na mairbh, beag agus mor, nan seasamh am fianuis De; agus dh’ fhosgladh na leabbhraichean: agus dh’ fosgladh leabhar eile, eadhon leabhar na beatha: agus thugadh breth air na mairbh as na nithibh sin a bha sgiobhta ’s na leabbraichibh, a reir an gniomharra” (Rev. xx. 12). O na h-earrainibh so tha e dearbh-shoilleir gun teid oibre dhaoine ’thabbhairt chum breitheanais. Ach ma ’sa fior so, nach d’ thigeadh dhuint fhiosrachadh, “Co is urrainn seasamh an lathair an Tighearna De naomha so” (1 Sam.
vi. 20). Gabb beachd air a chliu, an Tighearna Dia Naomha? Is eigin gu bheil lagh an De so, mar e fein, “naomha, agus cothromach, agus maith,” ann an tomhas neo-chriochnach (Rom. vii. 12). Is e suim an lagha so, Dia ‘ghradhachadh le’r n’ uile chridhe, agus le’r n’ uile anam, agus le’r n’ uile neart, agus le’r n’ uile inntinn” (Mark xii. 29, 30); ‘s e sin, umhlachd iomlan cridhe agus caithe-beatha. Agus is deimhin nach ‘eil an Ti Uile-naomha, agus Uile-mhaith ag agairt tuille ‘sa choir.
Bhris thus’ agus mise agus an t-iomlan do shliochd Adhaimh an lagh naomha so. Leis an lagh so, uime sin, tha sinn air ar tur dhiteadh. Oir, “Is malluichte gach neach nach buanaich anns an h-uile nithibh a ta scriobhta ann an leabhar an lagha chum an deanamh” (Gal. iii. 10).
Na clisgeadh so thu, cha’n’eil mi fein saor n’i’s mo na tha thusa. Ni h-eadh cha’n’eil mac mathar don chinne-daon a ta saor; oir, “Cha’n’eil ionnracan ann, cha’n’eil fù a h-aon” (Psalm liii. 1-3). —”Oir pheacaidh na h-uile agus tha iad air teachd gearr air gloir Dhe” (Rom. iii. 23). Is i cheist mata, ‘N do bhris thusa ‘n lagh? Ma bhris tha e soilleir nach urrainn thu bhi air d’ fhireannachadh leis an lagh a bhris thu. “Uime sin cha bhi feoil air bith air a fireannachadh na fhianuis tre oibribh an lagha” (Romans iii. 20). Feudaidh tu lagh a dhealbh dhuit fein, ach cha ‘n urrainn dhuit Dia ‘cho eigneachadh gu breth ‘thoirt ort a reir do lagha-sa. Ged theid oibre, uimesin, a thoirt chum breitheanais cha ‘n urrainn gun gabh Dia ri peacach air steidh oibribh fein. Cnuasaich a chuis so.
Am bheil sinn mata ri eu dochas a’ ghabhail?—Cha’n’eil a charaid ionmhuinn; cha’n’eil: taing do Dhia tha dochas fathast againn. Tha sinn a’ faicinn o bhriathraibh ar Tighearna ann an toiseach an leabhrain so ged theid iomadh aon a dhiteadh ann an la bhreitheanais, gun teid mar an ceudna gabhail ri iomadh; agus ma bheir sinn aire cheart do bhriathraibh a Bhreitheamh chi sinn an steidh air an ditear agus an saorar. Gabb beachd air ciod tha e g’rachd riusan air a laimh dheis: “Oir bha mi ocrach, agus thug sibh dhomh biadh: bha mi tartmhor, agus thug sibh dhomh deoch: bha mi ‘m choigreach, agus thug sibh aoidheachd dhomh: lomnachd, agus dh’ eudaich sibh mi: bha mi euslan, agus thainig sibh g’am ambarc: bha mi’m priosan agus thainig sibh a m’ionnsuidh.” Freagraidh na fireana le h-ioghnadh nuair a dhainmicheas e an caoimhneas da, ‘sa cho tearc dhiu sa chunnaic riabh aghaidh ‘s an fheoil gu’n caoimhneas a nochdadh. “Cuin a chunnaic sinn thu ocrach, agus a bheathaich sinn thu? no tartmhor agus a thug sinn deoch dhuit? Cuin a chunnaic sinn a’ d’ choigreach thu, agus a thug sinn aoidheachd dhuit? no lomnachd, agus a dh’ eudaich sinn thu? No cuin a chunnaic sinn euslan thu, no am priosan, agus a thainig sinn a t-ionnsuidh?” Reitichidh freagrach a Bhreitheamh a chuis uile, A’ mheud ‘s gun d’ rinn sibh e do h-aon do na braithribh is lugha agamsa, rinn sibh
dhomhsa e.” Air an doigh cheudna, cuiridh e as leth na muinntir air a laimh chli gun d’ fhag iad gun deanamh na nithe a rinn cach:—“Bha mi ocrach, agus cha d’ thug sibh dhomh biadh; bha mi tartmhor agus cha d’ thug sibh dhomh deoch; bha mi ’m choigreach agus cha d’ thug sibh aoidheadh dhomh; lomnachd, agus cha d’ eudaich sibh mi; euslan, agus am priosun, agus cha d’ thainig sibh g’am amharc.”—Agus ’nuair a nochdas iadsan cuideachd an ioghnadh gun agairte orra nach d’ rinn iad an ni nach robh riabh nan comas, “A Tighearna cuin a chunnaic sinn thu ocrach, no tartmhor, no’ d’ choigreach, no lomnachd, no euslan, no’m priosan, agus nach do fhritheil sinn dhuit?” minichidh agus daighnichidh e ’chasaid le ’leithid eile do fhreagairt. “A mheud ’s nach d’ rinn sibh e do’n neach a’s lugha dhiu so, cha d’ rinn sibh dhomhsa e.”
Nis tha na h-oibre chaidh aireamh, a nochdadh dhuinn, a thiotadh, biuthas na muinntir a ta g’an deanamh, agus nach ’eil g’an deanamh. Gabh beachd sonruichte air an gne. Is oibre seirc, agus graidh iad, ’chaidh a dheanamh air sga Iosa, d’a dheisciobluibh. Tha Iosa g’am meas mar gun deanta dh’a fein iad: feumaidh, uime sin gur oibre iad a chaidh a dheanamh air a sga. Tha bhi dheanamh nan oibre so toirt dearbhaidh air oibre-achadh aignidhean araidh an taobh a stigh: Tha gun bhi ga’n deanamh na dhearbhaidh air di nan aignidhean so. ’Nuair a labhras sinn m’a ni air bith a dheanamh air sga neach eile, tha sinn a ciallachadh gu bheil sinn ga dheanamh o ghradh dha. Tha na h-oibre th’air an cur as leth na muinntir air an laimh dheis a’ nochdadh gur h-e gradh do Iosa tha’n airde na’n cridhe—gur h-e ’n taigneadh tha riaghladh an giulain: agus tha’n gradh so sruthadh o eolas slainteil air, agus o’ chreidimh na ’ainm. Do thaobh na muinntir air an laimh chli, tha di na’n oibre so a’ nochdadh nach b’athne dhoibh an Slanu’ear, nach robh creidimh aca ann, no gradh dha.
A Leughadair, am bheil thusa creidsinn ann am Mac Dhe? Is ceist ro chudthromach a cheist, oir, “Ge b’e chreideas, saorar e, ach ge b’e nach creid ditear e.” ’N do smuainich thusa riamb, gu cubhaidh, air a chrich chum an d’ thainig e thun an t’ saoghail—air airde a chliu, agus air gne agus foirfeachd ’oibre? Thainig e, tha e fein aig innse dhuinn, “a dh’ iarraidh agus a thearnadh an ni sin a bha cailte” (Luc. xix. 10), ’s ann do bhrigh gun robh e “r’a phobull fein a shaoradh o’m peacaibh” a thugadh Iosa ainm air (Matthew i. 21). Is Slanu’ear neamhaidh e—“Emanuel Dia maille ruinn” (Matt. i. 22, 23). “Dia air fhoillsicheadh ’san fheoil” (I Tim. iii. 16).—“Iehobhah ar fiantachd” (Ier. xxiii. 6). Esan a chuireas cul ris tha e cur cul ara ri obair agus ri comhaire an De bhith-bhuan.
Chum a phobull a shaoradh o’m peacaibh “rinneadh am Focal siorruidh ’na fheoil, agus ghabh e comhnuidh ’nar measgne” (Eoin i. 14). Le ’umhlachd iomlan, agus le bheatha gun smal
dh’ arduch e’n lagh naomha agus rinn e urramach e. Le e dh’ fhulang bais o shaor thoil fein—le fhuil a dhortadh air a chrann mhallaichte—agus le ‘spairn ‘anama fuidh fholach gnuis Athar (Matt. xxvii. 46), rinn e lan dhioladh arson peacaidh, ghlorach e maraon ceartas agus trocair Dhe; agus rinn e saorsa an dream air son an d’ fhiuling e onorach do riaghladh cothromach Dhe agus do uile bhuaidhibh a naduir; air chor ‘s gur h-e bhi maithheadh peacaidh air sga Chriosd dearbhadh is mo air fhuaith do pheacadh.
‘N uair a lub Iosa ‘cheann air a chrann-cheusaiddh, agus a thug e suas an deo, thubhairt e, do thaobh na h-oibre thugadh dh’a r’a deanamh, “Tha e crochnaichte” (Coimeas Eoin xvii. 4, ri xix. 30). Dhaighnich Dia ‘n fhirinn so le ‘thogail o na marbhaibh: Oir tha aiseirigh Chriosd a’ toirt a cheart theistis a thug an guth o’n ghloir oirdheirc, “Is e so mo Mhac gradhach-sa, le’m bheil mi lan thoilichte” (Matt. xvii. 5; 2 Pead. i. 16, 17).
Tha obair na saorsa, mata, crochnaichte. ‘S i fireantachd agus iobairt-pheacaidh Emanuel an steidh—an t-aon steidh—an steidh uile-fhoghainteach tre’m feud peacach duil a bhi aige ri trocair. Ris an obair so cha ‘n urrainn dhuit dad a chur—’s cha ‘n fheadh thu dad a thoirt uaipe. Cha dean feuchain ris an aon no’n aon eile ach a h-eifeachd a mhilleadh ort fein. Ma tha fuighair agad ri saorsadh air dhoigh air bith eile, tha thu toirt na breige do Dha (Eoin v. 10), agus a sgrios t-anama gaduil’ deoin. “S so a chlach a dhiultadh leis na h-Iudhaich a rinneadh na ceann na h-oisinn: Agus cha’n’eil slainte ann an neach air bith eile, oir cha’n’eil ainn air bith eile, fuidh neamb, air a thoirt a’ meag dhaoine, tre’m feud sinn a bhi air ar slanachadh” (Gniomh iv. 11, 12). “Tha sinne guidheadh oirbh as uchd Chriosd (arsa Pòl) bithibh reidh ri Dia: Oir rinn se esan do nach b’ aithne peacadh, na iobairt pheacaidh air ar son-ne; chum gum bitheamaid air ar deanamh ‘na’r fireantachd Dhe annsan” (2 Cor. v. 20, 21). Is e’n neach a chreideas fianuis Iosa ‘tha air a dheanamh reidh ri Dia, agus a shaorar ann an la bhreathanais. Oir “don ti a ni obair cha ‘n ann mar gheanmaith a mheasar an tuarasdal, ach mar fhiachaibh. Ach do’n ti nach dean obair, ach a ta creidsinn anns an Ti a dh’ fhireannaicheas an duine mi-dhiadhaidh, measar a chreidimh mar fhireantachd. Amhuil mar a ta Daibhidh a’ cur an ceill beannachadh an duine sin d’am meas Dia fireantachd as eugmhais oibre, ag radh. Is beannuichte iadsan a fhuair maith-eanas na’n eu ceartaibh, agus aig am bheil am peacaidh air am folach. Is beannuichte an ti nach cuir an Tighearna peacaidh as a leth” (Rom. iv. 4-8). Agus a ris—”Is ann o chreidimh a ta’n oighreachd, ionnas gum biodh i tre ghras” (Rom. iv. 16).—”Oir is e tuarasdal a pheacaidh am bas: ach is e saorthiodhlacadh Dhe a bheatha mhaireanach, trid Iosa Criosd ar Tighearna” (Rom. vi. 23).
(Ri leantuinm.)
One of the Haldane Folk.
OF those whom God signally honoured in the preaching of the pure evangel of Jesus Christ in Scotland, the Haldane brothers must ever occupy a favoured place. Through the blessing of God, their preaching was instrumental in the conversion of souls who in after days gave evidence that they were epistles read and known of all men. Recently, in reading the biography of a northern minister, we came across a brief sketch of one of “the Haldane folk,” as they were called, that appealed to us, and which we now reproduce for the benefit of our readers. We are introduced to the aged saint near the end of her earthly pilgrimage, and her pithy sayings, laden with heavenly truth, are like the grapes of Eschol, telling of the fruitfulness of the land through which she had travelled. On hearing one of God’s servants preach, she expressed the effect produced on her at the time in these words: “Ah! man, how he made the heart, conscience, and understanding dirl with the truth!”
Her homely address to a young minister whom she had invited to her hospitable home soon after his ordination, is worthy of being put on record. “Now, Mr. —,” she began, “though ye’re my minister, and I respect ye for your work’s sake, ye’ll no take it ill of an old woman like me to give you a word or two of advice, more especially as Scripture says we’re to exhort one another. Ye see, ye are but a young servant of the Lord, and I am an old one, and I’ll soon be going home for rest. I would like to think ye’ll be a useful and faithful minister of the New Covenant long after I’m in another world; and I am going to give ye the fruit of my experience, as one that has seen a good deal of life, both among saints and sinners. Now, take your place, and keep it, as the minister of the kirk. Magnify your office and not yourself. Let no man despise your youth. Read the two Epistles to Timothy every week, and think much of Paul and more of his Master. Don’t be creeping into a corner; modesty is very good, but ye must mind the trust the Lord has put into your hands. If, like Moses and Gideon, ye should be inclined to hold back at any time, yet, like them, ye must go to the front when the Lord commands. But don’t be too forward. Man, but it scunners me to hear of striplings bragging of what they can do. They’re like David, but without the sling and the stones and the trust in the Lord, and they run away before every Goliath. Say ‘whist‘ to the promptings of vanity. If ye’ve any respect for yourself, never blow your own trumpet; if your trumpeter should die, rather have no trumpeting at all than do it yourself. Ye must learn to endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. Ye’re not to think ye’ll ca’ [drive] the whole world before you. Ye’re not to be cast down with every cold look or hot word; for ye must expect to meet ill-natured and cantankerous folk, even in the Kirk. Don’t be in a hurry to leave the folk of your choice. Ministers used to bide with their flocks,
as a man with his wife, for better or worse, but now they’re easy parted. If God has a higher place for ye, ye’ll get it, if ye do your duty where ye are; but ye’re not to seek it—not to be glowering at something far away, like a sheep looking through a paling at richer pasture on the other side. Honour God, and take the word of one that has tried Him for more than three score years, and your honour and all your concerns will be safe in His hands.”
On her deathbed her minister visited her, and in the course of conversation she said to him: “Oh! aye hold up Jesus Christ to a poor, perishing, sinning world; make Him the head and heart of all your preaching. What would I now be without Him? Just an old, done, dying woman, going down to the cold grave and outer darkness, like a withered leaf dropping down with the wintry blast on a lonesome night.” Her pastor on one occasion asked, “Does the fear never come across your mind that all your faith is a dream?” Solemnly and slowly she answered, as if every word came from the depth of her soul, “If this is a dream, where’s the reality?” Then, as if speaking to herself, she said in a whisper, “He’ll not forsake me; He came to me when I was not seeking Him, and now, when I need Him and seek Him with all my heart, He’ll not leave me.” On her pastor saying that he did not feel so ready to depart as she did, she answered, “Ah, man, ye’ll get grace to die when ye have to do it. You’re young yet, and what ye need is grace to live and work. God does with His grace as He did with the manna. We do not get it beforehand, because we have not the sense to guide it, and it would all melt away.”
The last day of her life on earth her minister asked, “Have you no fears at all in crossing the Jordan?” “No,” she said solemnly. “Why should I be afraid when I see Him who is the Resurrection and the Life on the other side? His word drives away all the mists. I am like a bairn that’s been away in the fields, pulling flowers, and I must confess, whiles chasing butterflies; and now, when the sun’s setting, I’m coming wandering home. I’ve a burn yet to cross, but there’s the stepping-stones of His promises, and with my feet set firmly on them I have no cause to fear.” After a while she again opened her lips, and was heard to say, “He is with me in the swellings of Jordan.” So passed away that aged saint to that goodly land to which she, like others, had sailed in heart before.
“Happy the company that’s gone
From cross to crown, from thrall to throne;
How loud they sing upon the shore
To which they sail’d in heart before!
Bless’d are the dead, yea, saith the Word,
That die in Christ, the living Lord;
And on the other side of death
Thus joyful spend their praising breath:
‘Death from all death has set us free,
And will our gain for ever be;
Death loos’d the massy chains of woe,
To let the mournful captives go.'”
—Ralph Erskine.
D. B.