Containing an account of the various exercises I came under from the twenty-third year of my life to the twenty-seventh, in which year I left my parents, and came to Stirling; and by the preaching of the Gospel there, I was further cleared and confirmed in my former experiences, and restored to former light and consolation in Christ, and this as a blessed performance of what formerly He made me expect and believe, and all issued in a comfortable outgate from the sad case I was under in the former period.
The following year a reviving of my case was carried forward, as follows, viz.:—A reviving and restoring the habits of grace that had been under a long decay, and also more strength given me to perform duties. Two weeks after this begun reviving, as I was going a piece of way alone, I set myself to improve this time in meditation; so I fell a thinking on what God had brought me through those years bygone, and that He, after so long a time of absence, had paid me yet another visit. And when I was thus admiring the wonders of His love and grace to me, a poor, sinful, and miserable creature, He drew aside the veil, and let down a beam of divine light into my soul, by which light I beheld such manifestations of the mysteries of redeeming love and grace as here I am not able to put in words. But though my mind was wholly taken up in the contemplation of this unexpressible mystery of the manifold wisdom of God, yet by His care of me I was brought safe to my journey’s end, although I was not much taken up about myself in the way; but, alas! this sweet visit ended with this day. Yet after this my soul had a sweet repose in trusting in the Lord, and I was strengthened every way. And I set about examining of myself, and there was a reflex light sent into my soul, by which I got both a view how the dark cloud of desertion came on and of my sinful miscarriages under it; some of which miscarriages are mentioned in the four years bygone. So when I thought on my impatience under the hidings of His blessed face, together with the harsh and desperate conclusions I many times did draw, with those words in my mouth, “Is His mercy clean gone? will He be favourable no more? hath He in wrath shut up His tender mercies? hath He forgotten to be gracious?” (Ps. lxxvii. 7, 8, 9), when this, I say, I thought upon, together with the horrid temptations formerly marked, I was greatly ashamed. And when I was condemning myself for my sin, I am persuaded that Satan was not wanting in charging on me the guilt of all those temptations as if I had yielded to them all. Here I saw the tempter lie at the catch, for I was so far bemisted that I looked on myself as guilty as if I had committed all that the devil had tempted me to; when, as my conscience bare me witness in the sight of God, that I consented not to the commission of any of them; but I say not this to justify myself before God, but to confute the devil. There were also two other Scriptures which I am persuaded were sent from Satan; the one was, “To which of the saints wilt thou turn?” (Job v. 1). Upon this I took a view of the saints’ sins recorded in the Word of God, and I could not find amongst them all the like of me; and I took a view of the sins of the godly living in my own day, so far as I knew, but I saw none of them all to compare with me. As also there were laid before me some of the great sins committed by the wicked and graceless world, yet mine were highly aggravated above theirs, for theirs were but the sins of unconverted and graceless persons, but mine were against a reconciled God in a Mediator, and manifested love. On this followed the other Scripture, “For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have tasted the good word of God, if they shall fall away, to renew them again unto repentance,” etc. (Heb. vi. 4). Upon this I was tempted to charge on myself the sin against the Holy Ghost, which is unpardonable; this struck me with great terror; but blessed be the Lord, who discovered to me Satan’s hook within the bait.
On this I plucked up my spirits, and denied what the devil charged on me. So I remembered what I had read in Mr. Guthrie’s “Saving Interest” about this sin; he calls it a rejecting and opposing the chief gospel truth and way of salvation to man by the Spirit of God, in the truth and good thereof, and that avowedly, freely, wilfully, maliciously, desperately, breeding hopeless fear.
Here I could appeal to God as my judge, and conscience as my witness, that I was not guilty of that sin; yet, nevertheless, there was a storm raised in my soul, by reason of this charge the tempter brought against me, together with many miscarriages I was guilty of; but I went to God with these words in my mouth, and said, “Oh, that thou wouldest pardon me, and tell me that thou hast done it: I think I would be content, although I should never enjoy so much nearness, and sweet bright blinks of divine love, as formerly I had done.”
So immediately after this I felt a power on my soul that brought those graces to a lively exercise, viz., faith and repentance; for there was a full sight of my sinful miscarriages laid before me, with all those particular aggravations, upon which my heart was melted down before God, and I felt the outgoing of my soul to renew its acceptance of Christ, as held forth in the promise of the Gospel, with an eye to the infinite value of the blood of sprinkling to take away sin. And while I was thus exercised, that word came with such power, efficacy and light into my mind, as in 1 John i. 7, “The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin,” so as thereby the guilt was removed from my conscience, for I believed that God had pardoned me; and that sweet word, “Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of his heritage? He retaineth not his anger for ever, because he delighteth in mercy” (Micah vii. 18), was sent for my further confirmation that He had pardoned me, the vision (so to speak) being doubled. Oh, here I cannot but admire the wonderful condescension of Sovereignty in answering me thus, both in pardoning me, and telling me that He had done it. Oh, here did I see grace glorified in pardoning one of the chief of sinners. Now I could reason with the tempter, and say, “Although I was among the chief of sinners, yet I am come to the chief of Saviours, ‘who is able to save to the uttermost all that come to God by him'” (Heb. vii. 25).
After this I went on rejoicing, like the birds after a long stormy winter—when the spring begins they sing, although the summer be not yet come; thus my soul, after the long winter of desertion and storms of temptation, began to rejoice in what God had done for me, although my condition at this time was as far different from what it was in my nineteenth year, as the light and heat of the sun in the spring differs from its light and heat in the time of summer.
Thus I went on rejoicing for several weeks, but yet, alas! my sun was still as in a cloud, according to the first part of the similitude mentioned as above; for although God had removed the dark cloud and sent a reviving to my soul, so that duties became more pleasant and refreshing to me, yet there was a withholding of the sensible downpourings of His Spirit, and of the soul-transforming blinks of divine light and love I had formerly enjoyed.
Oh, here I did greatly mistake the way the believer was to live in this world, having forgotten the solid advice I got from my dear Christian friend formerly mentioned, in the first year of the dark cloud, she having told me that the believer was to live by faith while here, and sense was reserved for eternity. But she being taken away by death, I had now no human help to go to, to whom I could impart my mind; and as for the way of faith’s bringing food from the promises, through the channel of Gospel ordinances, I was much unacquainted with it at this time.
After this I tried the ordinances, and so laboured to bring everything home with application to myself; sometimes I heard man’s misery by the fall and the evil of sin holding out, as also the necessity of regeneration and of closing with Christ: also I heard sin reproved, calls to duty, and Christ commended, and the souls that had closed with Him; and had gotten a sight of their interest in Him, and of the pardon of all their sins, to be the happiest souls in all the world. And upon reflections on all this, I could not deny but I was one of those souls the Gospel called happy; yet, alas! this answered not my case, for neither sense of interest in Christ, nor yet pardon of sin, could satisfy me, while He was absent from my soul, with the sense of His love and the light of His countenance; so I went on still lamenting my sad loss.
One day I was sitting in a kiln, where some grains of corn had fallen and were sprung up; at the sight of which I fell a reasoning with myself, when I thus saw it sprung up although it was in the winter time, and wanted both the warm beams of the natural sun, and the showers to water it. This I applied to myself, and said, “May not grace grow in thee, although thou wants the comfortable beams of the Sun of Righteousness, and somewhat winter with thee?” Yet here I saw that which was sprung up could come to no perfection without the heat of the sun, and the warm showers to water it: no more could grace grow in my soul without the blinks of the Sun of Righteousness, and the watering influences of the Spirit of Christ.
And while I was thus lamenting my sad loss, that was brought to mind what David did to Absalom, after he had killed his brother Amnon: he both gave him his life, and brought him back to Jerusalem, yet he denied him the sight of his countenance, as in 2 Samuel xiv. 24. This I applied to my soul, and said, “What doth it profit me although God hath given me my life in pardoning me, seeing He withholds from me the light of His countenance?” Thus I went in the bitterness of my soul, still crying to God for such a display of His reconciled face that might wipe away such a long jealousy of His love.
Again, I reflected back on the horrible temptations of Satan formerly mentioned, and also my miscarriages under that dark cloud; and when I was thinking on these miscarriages, it was brought to my mind what is recorded concerning Moses, David, and Solomon, whose sins were all followed with a remark: Moses’ sin was marked with that—he never got over to the promised land, as in Deut. xxxii. 50, 51; David’s sin was marked with that—the sword was never to depart from his house, as in 2 Samuel xii. 10; and Solomon’s—with troubles in his own time, and threatenings against his posterity (1 Kings xi.).
When I thought on this, although there was no particular sin I could fix on, yet I drew this conclusion, and said, “Seeing God hath dealt so with those eminent worthies, what might I expect, and yet God be righteous in so doing, according to the covenant of grace, as in Ps. lxxxix. 32, 33, ‘Then will I visit their transgression with the rod, and their iniquity with stripes. Nevertheless my loving-kindness will I not utterly take from him?’ etc.” Upon this I went to God with these words in my mouth, and said, “If my sins be such as Thou wilt mark with a perpetual stroke, let it be on my body, and not on my soul: oh, give to me the light of Thy countenance, and do with my body what Thou pleasest.” Oh, poor and foolish wretch that I was, who would thus take upon me to prescribe to the Almighty; yet in this He took me, as it were, at my word.
(To be continued.)
Modern Church Services.
THE subjoined letter appeared in a Winnipeg newspaper some years ago. It was written by the Rev. Malcolm Gillies in answer to a letter by one who signed himself “F. W. B., Returned Soldier.” The soldier was very warrantably complaining of the kind of Gospel preached in many of the churches and Mr. Gillies upholds his complaint. As Mr. Gillies’ letter (which was sent us by a Magazine reader in Winnipeg) contains many pithy comments and criticisms that are pertinent to Churches in this country as well as in Canada, we have much pleasure in publishing it in these pages:—
Dear F. W. B.,—I wish to congratulate you on the pertinent and straightforward remarks you gave us in your letter last Saturday, on your view of the Churches. I was beginning to think that they were few indeed that were not blinded by modern progressive dust, but I am glad to see that there are some, and that among the men who have risked their all for King and country, who think with me that the Church has become something like a menagerie, and that it is high time the whip of small cords was produced that would cleanse the house of God.
You say that the Church comes short in not teaching the Bible as it should, and you never said a truer word than that in all your days. The modern preacher takes out a text and then he goes on a ramble, not from Dan to Beersheba, for then he would be on Biblical ground, but all over the civil and territorial world. He takes a look in at the great works of art, especially at the pictures of the old masters, then he goes on a visit to the Bolsheviks, gives a whack to the Kaiser and his Huns, tells the people to live a straight life, and concludes his oration. All the time there is the voice of God calling to this man—”Preach the Word, the whole counsel of God, life and death, sin and salvation.”
There is nothing more evident in the Bible than that the Church is a spiritual institution. “The kingdom of heaven is not meat and drink;” yet you complain rightly that the Church gives too much place to mere social entertainments. Christ drove the buyers and sellers out of the temple, yet the Church competes with the store, by its bazaars and sales of work. The Apostle Paul frowned on the love feasts of the early Christian Church, and they were ultimately condemned; you find the modern Church at times running a restaurant. In a word, the Church is aping the non-Church. You can get a concert either in the kirk or in connection with some worldly affair. The picture shows, the Lord be thanked, are not open on the Lord’s Day, but if you are very anxious for one, just attend some minister’s evening service.
I am not surprised at your disappointment, F.W.B., and I am afraid, though you would go over all the big Churches, you will not find a man that careth for your soul. They will be willing to advise and help you, in making you a useful member of the new reconstructed social order, at present in embryo, but in the matter of the new birth and a vital union with the Lord Jesus, they, I fear, will be found physicians of no value. Why not try some of the smaller places of worship? Christ was in a manger, and the true Church has almost always been like Him in this respect. The wise men did not find Him in Jerusalem among the great authorities on Church matters, but in Bethlehem among the despised and poor.
In conclusion, there is one preacher at least in Winnipeg that understands your difficulty, and if you care to make his acquaintance, you will find his name and address given below.
The late Mr. Duncan MacKintosh, Gairloch.
Mr. DUNCAN MACKINTOSH, Smithtown, Strath, Gairloch, died in the seventy-second year of his age, with startling suddenness, on 26th July, 1919. That morning he left for the peat-moss, and a young person, leading cattle to the hill-pasture, found him lying on the ground. Life was extinct. Heart failure was the cause of death. The incident had a solemnizing effect upon the whole community, and much sympathy was felt towards the relatives. The deceased was, in many respects, a most useful man in the district, and he is greatly missed. The funeral to Gairloch Churchyard was very largely attended.
From the outset the deceased was a most enthusiastic Free Presbyterian. He faithfully and heartily acted as Treasurer for the congregation for twenty-six years, and he was always eager that the Sustentation Fund should be kept up to the mark. He took a keen interest in the affairs of the congregation. He was very seldom absent from church on Sabbath, or week day, or from the Prayer Meetings. For some years he assisted in leading the praise in the meeting-house and in the church. The blank his death has made in both meeting-house and church is keenly felt. He extended hospitality to strangers, who attended the Church Services, and, at Communion seasons, his house was crowded with visitors. He had not been, for about a year prior to his death, in the best of health, and he was, on various occasions, heard in private beseeching the Lord to prepare him for death.
Some years before his death he became a communicant. From that period his keenness in listening to the preaching of the Gospel was more noticeable; and it was helpful to the preacher to notice how he seemed to relish the services. He often spoke of the profit and delight he had in God’s sanctuary.
May the eternal God sanctify the bereavement to the sisters and brother, and other relatives. D. MACK.
Extracts from Letter by C. B. van Woerden, HOLLAND.
WE take the liberty of giving a few extracts from a letter by this esteemed Dutch gentleman to a friend in this country:—
“As you write, we have gone through sad times, and are yet in the midst of them. It is without doubt that the Lord is pouring out His wrath upon the nations, and I think the worst is the retaining of the Spirit. We have been highly favoured that the Lord has kept us from War, but it is with us, as with other nations, there is no repentance. Magistrates and people are denying the Lord. Every new law or Act made by Government and Parliament might have written above its head, ‘There is no God.’ We have now also an ambassador with the Pope as you have, and what I think most dreadful is that so-called Reformed Churches plead for it. Everywhere you look you may see the displeasure and the judgments of the Lord.
“O happy remnant that will be brought safe through all this, and that will surely rejoice because of the judgments of the Lord, though many of the Lord’s people are silent at present, because there is so much self-love, and so little love of the honour of the Lord. ‘In the last days iniquity shall abound, and the love of many shall wax cold.’ Is this not what we see in the Churches? Is not much of this even among the Lord’s people? Have we not ‘left our first love?’ O that we had a heart to weep over this great transgression! I remember—it is many years ago—that I was walking in a field, and that the Lord brought these words home to my mind, but, alas! I want them again and again, and I fear I shall never deplore this sin of unbelief and ingratitude as I would wish to do it.
“Yet there is one thing in our dear land that has to be wondered at. The Lord has not only a large remnant here, but also in these sad days we hear relatively much of new children born in Zion. Now and then the glad tidings are heard that this and that young man or young girl are born in her, and the promise stands to this day, ‘and the Highest Himself shall establish them.’ . . .
“I am not so strong as formerly. . . . I was at one time suddenly near to death, but I am recovered again. . . . In the place where I am living now there are many of the Lord’s people. With some of them I have a close conversation. . . . I have still my worship on the Sabbath at home. We read the old worthies. Though I have to go through much darkness, yet I cannot deny that the Lord condescends sometimes to reveal something of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. Binning, Erskine, Durham, Shepard, Owen, Thomas Goodwin are my ministers; and I may say I appreciate them, and have them as ambassadors of Christ, by whom I get my rebukes, my comforts, my teachings, and many proofs that the Lord by His Spirit makes them to speak after their death, so that I may say, they are made manifest in my conscience.
“I have translated Rutherford’s ‘Victory of Faith,’ and his ‘Christ Dying and Drawing Sinners to Himself.’ The latter especially was a heavy task. . . . I am now translating Andrew Gray’s Works. A part of it is already printed, and the Lord’s people, many of whom are sitting at home in this country, are very glad of his sermons. I am also translating ‘Elizabeth Cairns’ from the Magazine. Do you know if the book is to be got, so that I could translate it all at once? Will you please ask one of your ministers if the ‘Memoir of Thomas Shepard’ is to be got? I would be glad to have it. We have the ‘Sincere Convert,’ ‘Sound Believer,’ and the ‘Wise and Foolish Virgins’ by that man.
“As you wrote, likely we will not meet again on earth. I would fain have seen you all in Scotland once more, but this shall not be. May the Lord grant that our hope will not be ashamed, and that we may see once for evermore the Lord Jesus Christ and the whole Church at the other side of Jordan. O what a wonder that shall be! I must say, it is too great for me. O I can hardly grasp what it is to be one of the Lord’s own. If I am so, free grace alone will have the honour and glory . . . O to be one of those that are in Christ! Not to be your own, but to be His; who shall pronounce what that means? My continual prayer is that He may give me by grace to know Him; to know how I need Him; to know Him in the ministration of His offices; to know Him as the Lord my righteousness. I am always wandering about without Him; I have powerful lusts, a foolish heart, and I know so little of Him, how dear and good He is, and how I shall make use of Him. O a little felt sorrow for Him, how it can melt my soul, and make me abhor myself and long for Him, that He may break my strong bonds, loosing them by His love . . . .
“Now may the Lord be with you in all your wants, and bless us and you and all His people.—Your loving friend,
C. B. v. WOERDEN.”
NOTE.—If any friend can supply us with an extra copy of “Memoirs of Elizabeth Cairns,” or a copy of “Memoir of Thomas Shepard,” we shall be pleased to pay a price and postage, and forward same to Mr. van Woerden.—ED.
Searmon.
A Rinneadh a Shearmonachadh aig Bogle’s Hole, ann an
Sgireachd Mhioneland, an iar Chlydesdale.
LEIS AN URRAMACH MAIGHSTIR EOIN WELWOOD.
“Agus ma’s ann air eigin a thearnar am firean, c’aité an taisbean an duine mi-dhiadhaidh agus am peacach e fein.”—I PHEAD. iv. 16.
(Air a leantuin o t. d. 348.)
Feum V.—’Nann air éigin a thearnar am firean? Na deanaibh, tha mi guidhe oirbh, ma ta, a mhi-mhineachadh, an uair a thig breitheanasan air na tirean so. An uair a thig e gu sin, na abair nach robh aca diadhachd annta. ‘Nuair a thig Dia a pheanasachadh Alba, ‘siomadh duine aig an robh a chridhe ceart maillle ri Dia, a theid a dh’ionnsuidh na h-uigh an là sin. Na togaibh am mearachd rathadh Dhé an uair a bhuaileas e cuid; na smuainichibh gu’m bheil sibh fein ionraic agus iadsan aingidh. Agus gu’n do loisg e tighean mòran da mhuinntir eile, na smuainichibh so iongantach: tha e gu maith mur bi muinntir air an losgadh iad fein. Is beag ris na-choinnich iad ann an coimeas ri am peacanna; cha’n’eil e a bheag sam bith. B’fhearr leam gu’n rachadh sibhse agus muinntir eile as, ge do bhiodh agaibh fichead tigh air an losgadh sios gu talamh. B’fhearr leam gu’n rachadh sibh fein as, ge do bhiodh an tigh air a léagail sios; oir bheiream-sa cintte dhuibh, gur iomadh duine onoireach a bha air a mharbhadh ann a leabaidh, a chorpa air a thilgeadh a dh’ionnsuidh na’n coin, agus fhuil air a doirteadh air an talamh: Be so an rathad air an deach iad do fhlaitheanas. Ach so theirinn ribh-se, na togaibh-se ‘am mearachd na nithe so ris am bheil pobull Dè a’ coinneachadh. Chuala sinne mu thiomchioll cuid do muinntir dhiadhaidh, air doigh’s gu’n cràidheadh e cridhe, agus gu’n d’thugadh e air folt neach seasamh air a cheann, a bhi faicinn no a cluinntinn na’n trioblaidean anns an robh iad. Mar sin na d’thugaibh-se droch mhineachadh as an teine sin, le a bhi smuaineachadh gu’n robh iad so na’m peacach os ceann muinntir eile, no na’s ciontach na sibh fein. Ni-h-eadh, chaidh tighean na’n easbuigean aingidh so as, agus na h-eaglaisean ud a tha air an truailleadh, agus tha sin a’ dearbhadh a chaochladh. Ach innsidh mise ciod bu chainnt da’n so, cha’n ann a mháin dhoibhsan a bha fuidh na chunnart ‘san am, ach ris a chuid eile do’n bhaile agus do’n duthaich mu’n cuairt a dh’amhairc air: Agus,
I.—
B’e so cainnt na slaite ris an luchd riaghlaidh, righ, agus comhairle; nach leig sibh a mach na priosanaich? gidheadh, tha i ag radh, ‘surrainn esan an leigeil a mach, agus dearbhaidh sin dhuibh-se a chum bhur calldach. Tha aon duine a ghlac iad roimh, agus a ghlac iad a ris ann an ceart aghaidh an lagha fein, uime sin feumaidh esan dol as. Tha mi ag innseadh dhuibh gu’m bheil latha teachd, anns an cuir an Tighearn as do Breatuinn agus gus an tig an t-àm sin cha bhi a chuid priosanaich gu brath air an cuir gu h-iomlain fa’ sgaoil. Ach an sin bheir se air a theine sgriosach am fuasgladh, agus bithidh na h-aingidh air an druideadh a steach ann an teine troimh na bhith-bhuantachd.—Tha mi a’ cuimhneachadh briathran Ieremiah ri Sedeciah, an uair a dh’aithneadh dhoibh na h-oglaich a chuir fa’ sgaoil, Ieremiah xxxiv, 17. ‘Seadh, tha Ieremiah ag radh, “Uime sin, mar so deir an Tighearn, cha d’eisd sibh rium-sa ann an saors a’ glaodhaich, gach aon d’a bhrathair, agus gach aon da choimhearsnach: feuch d’a’ur taobhsa tha mise glaodhaich saorsa, deir an Tighearn, do na chlaidheamh, do na phlaigh, agus do na ghoirt; agus bheir mi oirbh a bhi air ‘ur luasgadh air feadh uile rioghachdan an domhain.” ‘Seadh ma ta, cuiridh an Tighearn an céill saorsa do’n dream so; agus leigidh e do na priosanaich dol as; agus a chum na criche sin feumaidh an claidheamh a dhol sios agus suas troimh na bhaile, gus an toir an Tighearn cead do dh’ifriinn agus do sgrios an gabhail sios, mur gabh iad aithreachas b’e mo dhùrachd gu’n deanadh iad aithreachas; ach tha iad do ghnath a’ ruith air an aghaidh air an droch shlighe so, agus ‘gan cruadhachadh fein, tha e cosmhail, gus am fuadaich an Tighearn air falbh iad.
II.—
Tha i ag éigheach mar an ceudna, “Biodh eagal De oirbh, agus thugaidh glòir dha; oir thainig a bhreitheanas,” Taisb. xiv. 7. Biodh eagal-san oirbh is urrainn tigean a losgadh. Tha leithid do dh’eagal comhairle, marc-shluaigh, agus shaighdearean oirbh: ach ‘surrainn an Tighearn a dheanamh ann an ùin ghearr an ni nach urrainn iadsan a deanamh ann an ùin fhada. Tha mi creidsinn gu’n d’rinn an Tighearna na’s mo do chall air Glascho leis an teine, na rinn a chomhairle agus am marc-shluaigh anns na bliadnachan so a chaidh seachad.* Is esan a deanamh an t-samhraidh agus a gheamhraidh, gidheadh cha’n eil sinne a’ nochdadh ar n-eagal dligheach dha-san mur bu choir. Ach ‘s laidir eagal dhaoine. Tha na tìrean so ullamh gu eagal a ghabbail roimh ni beag sam bith a dh’fhagas fosgailt iad do thrioblaid. Cha’n eil eagal oirbh air son laghan Dhé a bhriseadh, ach tha eagal oirbh airson laghan dhaoine a bhriseadh. C’ar son a bhiodh na h-uiread do dh’eagal oirnne uath-san? Gu ma roghnaichte leinne eagal De a bhi oirnn, agus seirbhis a thabhairt dhasan.
* Tha an losgadh ‘an so, gun teagamh, a’ ciallachadh an teine sin a bhris a mach ann an Glascho anns a bhlidhna 1677, air sgath an robh mòran phriosanaich air an cuir fa’ sgaoil le truacantais an luchd-atridh; ann am measg an robh Earla fùghail Cerfland, an neach a tha coslach ri a bhi an duine mu am bheil e ann an so a rádh a bha air a ghlacadh an dara h-uair. Tamul beag na dheigh sin, chaidh e nùll do’n Olaind, far an d’fhuair e bàs, air a cheithreamh la dèug do’n cheud mhlos de’n gheamhradh ‘sa bhlidhna, 1680.
III.—
Labhair an losgadh sin mu’n so, “Na saothraichibh air son a bhidh sin a theirgeas, ach air son a bhidh sin a mhaireas chnm na beatha siorruidh. Suidhichibh bhur n-aighe air na nithe a ta shuas, agus ni-h’ànn air na nithe a ta air an talamh.” Colos. iii. 2. “Taisgibh suas bhrur n-ionnhas air neamh, far nach truail aon-chuid laomainn no meirg.” Bha’n glaodh so aic mar an ceudna, nach cuireadh daoinne an dòchas ann an saoibhreas neo-chinnteach. Bheiream-sa cinnte dhuibh, gur iomadh duine a ghabh mòr shaothair gu bhi togail suas na’n clachan so, a loisg an teine sios, a rinn di-chuimhne air Dia ann an urnuigh. Bheiream-sa cinnte dhuibh, gu’n robh na bu mhò do shaothair air a ghabhail ann an togail suas na’n clachan so, na bha air a ghabhail le iomadh mu thimchioll an slàinte shìorruidh.
IV.—
Tha i aig eigheach, am bheil agaibh ionnhas air neamh? Am bheil sibh a’ deanamh cinnteach air son ni-éigin nach bi, ‘seadh, nach urrainn a bhi air a thabhairt uaibh? “Rinn Muire roghainn do’n chuid mhaith sin nach toirear uaipé,” Lucas x. 42. Mar sin na suidhichibh bhrur n-aigne’ air nithe an t-saoghail so. Tha sibh a’ faicinn tiodal Iarlachd agus Moraireachd air an reic, agus air an tionndaidh nall o làmh gu làmh, agus fathast cha bhi cuid do dhaoine ann an imcheist air son an anama a reiceadh air son mìr beag dhe’n talamh air son a slioichd; agus feudaidh e bhi, an neach a thig ‘nan deigh gu’n caith e air falbh na h-uile. Tha e ag radh, iarraibh rioghachd nach urra’ bhi air a crathadh, agus aite-comhnuidh nach urra’ a bhi air a sgaoleadh as a cheile.
V.—
Tha e ag eigheach so, an àm dhuibhse a bhi plasdadh ‘ur tighean, am feadh ‘s a tha a phobull air an tabhairt gu seachairean is cruadhas. Tha e air a thort fainear, gur e am mir is fearr do Ghlascho a tha air a losgadh. Agus tha mi ‘saoisinn, gu’m bi Glascho agus Duneidin mar-aon air an cuir fàs mu’m bi na h-uile seachad. Bithidh tighean iomadh duine uasal agus duine mòr air an cuir fàs mu’m bi na h-uile nithe thairis.
VI.—
Agus tha glaodh eile aice, tha i ag radh gu’n robh mòran pheacaidhean air an cuir ann an gniomh anns na tighean so. Agus bitheadh iad na’n tighean is àill leo, dhfheudadh peacadh a bhi na aobhair air son a bhalla bhi air a bhuailladh an dara h-uair. Agus,
VII.—
Tha i ag eigheach, “Mur dean sibhse aithreachas, theid sibh am mugha mar an ceudna,” Lucas xiii. 3. Tha e ag radh riutsa, O a Ghlascho, mur bi sibh fuidh eagal agus mur iarr sibh an Tighearna, cuiridh e cuid do nithe dubhach a mach ‘nar n-aghaidh. Oir an uair a tha e ag cuir a mach a bbreitheanais, le gairm labhair guidheam oirbh gabhaidh rabhaidh. An dream so, aig an robh an cuid tighean air an losgadh, bhruadaich iad air co bheag do bbreitheanas air an oidche roimhe sin agus a tha sibhse a’ deanamh aig an àm so. Tha Easbuigean agus luchd gamhluis a’ bradraichadh gle bheag mu bbreitheanasaiibh, agus tha dian-thogradh aig an diabhul, gu labhairt mar sin, a chum am faotainn, agus feudaidh e bhi gu’m faigh e iad tìm na’s leoir. Tha mòran agaibh an dùil nach ‘eil breitheanasaiibh a’ teachd.—Ach ciod am bonn a dhfheudas sibh a bhi agaibh air son sin? Ciod uime, a tha sibh co fein-thearuinnte? Tha iad sona gu deimhin a tha tearuinte air deadh steidh.—Air an aobhar sin tha mi a’ guidh oirbh, air trócairibh Dhe, mar is ionmhuinn leibh sonas bhur n-anama neo-bhasmhor, rannsaichibh bhur n-anama fein, rannsaichibh bhur slighean, agus pillibh a dh’ionnsuidh an Tighearn. Tha iad teirc a tha caitheamh ùine ann an ùrnuigh mar bu chóir dhoibh.
‘Nis cha’n abair sinn tuille ach so, rannsaichibh a mach olc bhur ròidean, agus guidhibh air son grás soillsichidh. Gu’n tugadh an Tighearn oirbh na nithe so a thabbhairt fainear, agus do ainm gu’n robb a ghloir gu siorruidh. Amen.