THA sinn aig an am so mar rioghachd an ann cunnart gle mhòr. Tha a phapanachd a fàs anns an rioghachd so riamh bho na chaidh an Emancipation Act a dheanamh na lagh ìnnte anns a bhliadhna 1829. Thoisch Eaglais na Roimh, cho luath ‘s a fhuair i an doras fosgailte da a lùchd-leanmhuinn a dhiunnsaidh na h-uile aite inbheach anns an rioghachd ach tri, ri bhi a toirt oidhirph gu faotinn a dhiunnsaidh na ‘n aiteachan sin mar an ceudna. ‘Bi an righ chathair aon de na haitean a bha air an dion bh’ uaipе. Cho fad a sheasadh na boidean a dh’fheumas an righ a thoirt mun suidh e air an righ-chathair na’n cuid de lagh na rioghachd cha b’urrainn papanach suidhe oirre. Tha briathran anns a bhoid sin a tha na papanach ag iarraidh a thoirt aisde mar ni a tha tabhairt oilbheum da’n creideamh-san. Is iad na briathran:—”Tha mise ann an sòlaimteachd agus ann an treibhdhíreas, an lathaireachd Dhe, ag aideach, agus a fianaiseachadh, agus a’ cur an ceill gum bheil mi a creidsinn nach ‘eil, ann an sacramait Suipir an Tighearna, an t-aran agus am fion air an tionndadh gu corp agus fuil Chriosd, le neach air bith, aig am an cuir air leth air son feum noamh, no na dheidh sin, agus gum bheil a bhi’g urnuigh agus a moladh na h-oighe Muire no naomh air bith eile, agus gum bheil iobairt na h-airfionn (mass) mar tha iad aig an am so air an cleachdadh ann an Eaglais na Roimh na’n saobh-chreidimh agus na’n iodhal-aoraidh.” Is iad gu h-araidh na briathran—”Saobh-chreidimh agus iodhal-aoraidh”—a tha iad a togail an guth nan aghaidh. Tha iad ag radh gum bheil na briathran ud a tabhairt beum do na h-iodchraoin phapanach aig an righ.
Labhair na tighearnan papanach ann an tigh na’n Tighearnan an aghaidh na cuid so de’n bhoid a bhi air a cur air an righ. Ann an tigh na’n Cummantan thog na h-Eirinnaich phapanach an guth an aghaidh an ni cheudna. Thug Salisbury ann an tigh nan Tighearnan, agus Balfour ann an tigh nan Cummantan gealladh gum biodh cuideachd de’n da thigh air an cur air leth gu sealltuinn a stigh anns a phuinc so. Tha papanach ri bha anns a chuideachd so. Tha iad ri feuchainn briathran eile a chur an aite na’m briathran ud a bhios a ciallachadh an aoin ni rui. Tha so euomasach dhoibh. Ma bhios briathran na boide so air am briseadh th’ fhuair Eaglais na Roimh an lamb-an-uachdar, agus feudaidh an creideamh Protestanach a bhi air a chur bho na cosan aig am air bith an deigh sin. Tha Salisbury agus Balfour an deigh a dheanamh aithnaichte cheanna nach eil ni air bith acasan an aghaidh gum biodh a bhoid so air a h-atharrachadh ma chuireas sluagh Protestanach Bhreatainn suas leis a sin. Fhuair ar n-atharichean a mach air an cosd gu de cho duillich ‘s a bha e dhoibh an creideamh Protestanach a chuir suas. Is iomadh neach a dh’fheum a bheatha a leigeadh sios mun robh an t-iodhol aoraidh aig
Eaglais na Roimh air a chur air cul, agus aoradh sgriobturail an Ath-leasaichaidh air a shuidheachadh. Cho cinnteach ‘s a dh’fhuilgeas an sluagh na bunaitean so a bhi air an cur bun-os-ceann bithidh dortadh fola ann an uine ghearr an deigh sin. Tha feum air gun togadh an sluagh an guth mar aon duine an aghaidh atharrachadh air bith a bhi air a dheanamh, agus gun cuireadh iad an run suidhichte air a chuis so a dhuinnsaidh nan daoine a chuir iad fein do’n Pharlamet, agus a dhuinnsaidh Mr. Balfour agus Mr. Salisbury.
Tha e soilleir gum bheil an Thighearna a nochdadh dhuinne mar rioghachd agus mar Eaglaisean gum bheil comhstri aige ruinn. Tha cogadh, gort, agus plaidh oirnn mar rìoghachd. Tha ar n-Eaglaisean air an truailleadh le mearachdan, agus le iodhol-aoraidh. Ma sheallas sinn ri focal Dhe chi sinn gun d’ thainig truaighe air na h-uile sluagh a threig an Tighearna mar a tha sinne a deanamh, agus mar gabh sinne aithreachas sgrios ar sinn mar an eudna. Tha feum mor air gum biodh am beagan a dh’fhagadh nar measg a togail an gath ris an Tighearna gun doirteadh e air sgath Chriosd an Spiorad Naomh oirn gu ar tabhairt gu h-aithreachas.
N. C.
In Loving Memory of Donald Mackay, Student.
WHY do the little flock thus bleat, and why this plaintive wail
I hear among the lonely sheep in Baca’s desert vale?
Relentless death her sword unsheathed, and with a ruthless hand,
Did cut the silver cord which bound the fairest of their band.
Well may they weep and sadly mourn, the loss what can compare
To those who in the breach do stand, and Zion’s grief do share;
Ill could we spare this precious gift, so rich in every grace,
And fear among the sons of men no one shall fill his place.
We sorely miss his saintly face, a stranger in this land,
A champion in the cause of truth, one of a faithful band,
Whose heart was constantly provoked by his most single eye,
Through faith to rise above the earth, and see beyond the sky.
That voice is still we loved to hear at hillside, cot, and hall,
Declaring how the human race were ruined by the Fall;
In death they lay, ‘neath sin’s dark sway, no eye them pity gave,
Till God, in love, sent from above, His Son the lost to save.
The Christian race he ran with speed; as one the prize would gain,
And jealously his footsteps watched, lest he his garments stain.
His life was long, though short in years, in labouring much ’twas
blest,
While wide he sowed the seed of life o’er Scotland’s barren waste.
He’s now at home, set free from sin, where oft he longed to be,
Where work is done, and joy begun, beyond a stormy sea ;
No darkness shall his visage dim, no cloud his soul can shade,
For on his head his Lord hath set a crown which ne’er can fade.
Shall we not plead the Lord alone, that He the breach would heal,
And for the sake of Zion’s poor, His right arm would reveal,
In sending forth His word with power, till every Dagon fall,
And Jacob, as a mighty prince, shall beat the mountains small ?
EDINBURGH, February, 1901.
W. R. T. S.
THE pleader’s voice is silent now,
And not at eve, nor morn,
Are heard his notes of praise and prayer,
Beside the golden corn.
And far and near, they mourn for him,
Who was a man of might ;
Recalled from Zion’s service, ere
His sun had reached its height.
The King desired his beauty, and
He hastily sent down
A messenger, to polish fair
His jewel for His crown.
He was like a lowly city,
And still a burning light ;
While passing through earth’s valley,
He walked with God in white.
Ever faithful to transgressors,
Nor did reprove with hate,
Nor ever crouched to error, for
His meekness rode in state.
He would not have us praise himself,
But deep forgiving grace,
That swifter than his fellows made
Him run the heavenly race.
” Not unto us Lord, not to us,”
Is heaven’s holy song,
And if we think he’ll sing it best,
It cannot far be wrong.
So well he knew and loved the notes,
So humbled was his heart,
He’d be the very last to think
He earned the better part.
The waves, beside his sleeping place,
Now ever seem to tell,
He is not, for God took him, and
He hath done all things well.
And we know, for lack of service
There never shall be dearth,
Since Jesus Christ hath glorified
The Father on the earth.
C.