DR. JAMIESON, in his Ancient Culdees of Iona, has said in his introductory remarks that there is no portion of Scottish history which has a higher claim to attention than that which respects the Culdees. While this is to be admitted, it so happens that it is a portion of Scottish history that is involved in much obscurity. The references to the Culdees in ancient documents and chartularies are by no means few, but they are lacking in that definiteness and descriptiveness that might clear up points of difficulty to us in these modern times. The keenest controversies have raged round the question, who were the Culdees? and even the derivation of the name itself seems still to be a subject open for discussion.
It may be as well at the outset to deal with the various derivations that have been given of the name. It has been traced to various sources, as gille De (servant of God), cultores Dei (worshippers of God). Goodall holds that it is derived from the Greek kelleotai (men of the cells). Others derive it from ceile De (the spouse of God). In its earliest form the name appears as Keledei. Among the native Celts it is Culdich; in Iona we have Cobhan nan Culdeach (Culdees’ chest). When we turn to modern writers we are as far off from finality as ever. Dr. MacLauchlan says it can have but one meaning, viz., the men of the recess from cuil (recess). Dr. MacBain, Inverness, the well-known Gaelic scholar, derives the word from cele De (one espoused or devoted to God). The word cele, he points out, was used to make personal names, just as gille and maol—e.g., Gillecolum, Maolcolum, hence Celeclerich, Celecrist, Celepeadair. Skene and Reeves derive the name from the same source, the former rendering it companion or friend of God, while the latter translates it servant of God. Colgan, whom Reeves describes as a master of the Irish language, declares that the word should be rendered in Latin Dei-cola or Amadeus.
Dowden, in his Early Celtic Church in Scotland, clings to the old view that Culdee is a corruption of Cultor Dei. Colidei is the form in which the name appears at York, and Dr. Lingard in his Anglo-Saxon Church has pointed out that the prebendaries of Canterbury are in an old charter styled Cultores clericici. On reviewing these different opinions it is evident that the derivation which has the support of the most eminent scholars and antiquarians is undoubtedly that which derives Culdee or Keledei from cele De. In further support of this view Professor Zimmer directs attention to a sentence unknown to Reeves in Irish Glosses on the Commentary on the Psalms, attributed to Columbanus of Bobbio. Here the Latin phrase cuius dei iste est is synonymous with iste ad illum pertinet, and to this the Irish commentator adds: Amal asmberar is cele De in fer hisin—i.e., as the saying goes, this man is cele De, whereby he indicates that the Irish phrase cele De corresponds to the Latin iste illius est. From which we learn that cele De was regarded as synonymous with vir Dei. The derivation of the name, however, is only a matter of mere passing importance in comparison to the history of those known as Culdees or Keledei. There have been a number of works written on the Culdees, and numerous references to them in Scottish Church histories, but all these are more or less open to objection. Dr. Jamieson, of Scottish Dictionary fame, has perhaps discussed the question most elaborately of all, but his work is lacking in the thoroughness and accuracy of that of Dr. Reeves, which has superseded all former efforts, and is the recognised source of all our knowledge of the Culdees. The work is mildly revolutionary—research has shown that many of the old ideas about the Culdees have to be given up. Beginning with Ireland, the home of the Celtic Church, Dr. Reeves traces the various references found in the early manuscripts to the Culdees at Tamhlacht-Maelruain, Armagh, Clonmacnois, Clondalkin, Monahincha, Devenish, Clones, Pubble and Scatterry Island, all interesting enough in their way, and useful for the light they throw on the character of the Culdees, but somewhat foreign to the object of this article. He then turns his attention to Scotland, and summarising the result of his studies, says that the name is sometimes borne by hermits, sometimes by conventuals; in one situation implying the condition of celibacy, in another understood of married men; here denoting regulars, there seculars; some of the name bound by obligations of poverty, others free to accumulate property; at one time high in honour as implying self-denial, at another regarded with contempt as the designation of the loose and worldly-minded. The first reference there is to the Culdees in Scottish history is in Jocelin’s biography of Kentigern, or Mungo, so well known as the patron saint of Glasgow. It is true that this biography was not written until the 12th century, but it was compiled from much earlier authorities, and embodied the traditional persuasion of the day. The passage is as follows:—”Thus, as we have stated, the man of God joined to himself a great many
disciples, whom he trained in the sacred literature of the Divine law, and educated to sanctity of life by his word and example. They all with a godly jealousy imitated his life and doctrine, accustomed to fastings and sacred vigils at certain seasons, intent on psalms and prayers and meditation on the Divine Word, content with sparing diet and dress, occupied every day and hour in manual labour. For, after the fashion of the primitive church under the apostles and their successors, possessing nothing of their own, and living soberly, righteously, godly, and continently, they dwelt, as did S. Kentigern himself, in single cottages from the time when they had become mature in age and doctrine. Therefore these singulares clerici were called in the common language Calledei (Culdees).”
From this we learn that the Cele-de, or in its Latinized form Calledei, were understood in the 12th century to have been a religious order of clerks who lived in societies, under a superior, within a common enclosure, but in detached cells, associated in a sort of collegiate rather than coenobitical brotherhood—solitaries in their domestic habits, though united in the common observances, both religious and secular, of a strict sodality. Such was the nucleus of the great city of Glasgow (Reeves’ Culdees). It is necessary at this point to notice that the early Celtic Church was more monastic in its institutions than diocesan. In fact, it is not too much to say that its whole fabric was constructed on the monastic foundation, as Reeves himself acknowledges. The office of abbot was the highest in church dignity. The office of bishop in its modern sense was unknown; the ferleghinn or lecturer often took precedence of the bishop. The bishop could be dispensed with, but not so the abbot, hence it is on record that during times of religious indifference there was no bishop. In some cases the entire religious character of Scottish monasteries perished except in name, but where this did not take place, the old society continued to exist, and were known as Kele-dei or Culdees. In later times, when bishoprics were erected, the principal monastery became the episcopal see, and the appointment of a bishop to the bishopric was in the hands of the officiating clergy. Such was the case with Dunblane (Dun, i.e. hill, and Blaan, i.e. the name of an Irish missionary), which was a very old foundation, but had no bishop until 1160. But apart from these, there were churches that possessed Keledei that were not of episcopal rank. These continued until they were suppressed or died a natural death. About the beginning of the 12th century the generality of monasteries were in a state of decrepitude, and those that survived were remodelled. Before this the most of the religious communities were Culdees or Keledei, but after this remodelling the name had a limited reference; being applied to those members of religious institutions which had not been remodelled. It was in the reign of David I. (1124-1153) that this great change took place. When he ascended the throne there were three bishoprics; when he died there were
nine. His devotion to the church is perpetuated in the old Scotch saying that he was a “sair sanct to the crown,” meaning thereby that the revenue of the crown suffered through this devotion. He was entirely out of sympathy with the old Celtic Church, his English education and the influence of the bishop of St. Andrews, an Englishman bred and born, having no doubt a great deal to do with this. In his scheme of reconstruction he added bishops to the Culdee institutions of Brechin, Dunblane, Ross, and Caithness, while in St. Andrews and Dunkeld he did away with the Culdees altogether by appointing in their place regular canons. In the popular imagination the Culdees are usually associated with Columba, but this is by no means the real state of the case. It is quite true, says Dr. Reeves, that after the lapse of centuries Culdees were found in churches which he or his disciples founded, but their name was in no way distinctive, being in the first instance an epithet of asceticism and afterwards that of irregularity. There were societies of Culdees at St. Andrews, Dunkeld, Brechin, Rosemarkie, Dunblane, Lismore, Dornoch, Iona, Lochleven, Abernethy, Monymusk, Muthill, and Monifieth. Interesting and valuable information on all these institutions may be found in Dr. Reeves’ monograph. The result, then, of all that has been said on the Culdees may now be summed up in a few words. They were the members of those monastic institutions that existed in the early Celtic Church prior to King David’s scheme of reconstruction at the beginning of the 12th century. After this date the name was applied to the members of the old institutions that did not come under reconstruction.
A very notable feature connected with the Celtic Church was its monasticism—a monasticism that was common to other portions of the Christian Church, but having at the same time certain well-defined features of its own. Some of these features stand out prominently in the Columba institution of Iona. No vow of celibacy, poverty, or obedience was taken. The inmates lived together not so much for their own improvement, as in other monasteries, but for the good of others. The institution at Iona was more a missionary institute than a monastery in the modern sense. Were we to seek a parallel in modern times it would be found in such missionary institutions as Lovedale and Livingstonia. The head of the institution was the abbot, who, as we have seen already, was supreme, even bishops being in subjection to him. The abbot was elected by the brethren. He was in most cases a presbyter. What is known as diocesan episcopacy had no existence in the early Celtic Church. It was not until the 12th century that bishops in the modern sense of the term were appointed with distinctive dioceses. It was a peculiarity of these early missionaries that they sought out lonely islands for their homes. Hence we find in many of the Hebrides ruins of their cells—in Tiree, Inch Kenneth in the mouth of Loch nan Ceall (Loch of the Churches), in Mull, Oransay, and in far-away St. Kilda, there are remains of these
early cells. Again, at Rona, 40 miles to the north of the Butt of Lewis, we have the cell where Ronan used to retire during his missionary labours, still in a state of good preservation. To the west of Lewis lie the Flannan Islands, named after Flann, one of the early Scottish missionaries, and here too the Teampull Sula Sgeir appears to be in a fair state of preservation. Even Iceland itself was reached by these intrepid missionaries of the cross.
As to whether these missionaries were under a vow of celibacy or not seems to be open to question. Dr. Reeves maintains that Columba strictly enjoined it upon the community; while Dr. MacLauchlan, on the other hand, deems the proof given by the Irish scholar as altogether inadequate for coming to such a conclusion. The popular tradition is certainly on the side of Dr. Reeves, expressed as it is in the well-known saying, “Far am bi bo bithidh bean, agus far am bi bean bithidh mallachd” (Where there is a cow there will be a wife, and where there is a wife there will be a curse). Dr. MacLauchlan, however, points that there were certainly cows on the island, but whether the saint allowed his monks the other blessing he does not say.
Enough has now been written to give some idea of who the Culdees were. It is quite probable that a great part of what has been said will directly clash with many of the popular notions entertained concerning the Culdees. It has been customary with some Presbyterian writers to speak of the Culdees as though they were thoroughgoing Presbyterians. Nothing could be more erroneous or more fitted to destroy a good cause. Presbyterianism is not dependent on the Culdee institutions for its authority, and every true Presbyterian ought to call no man master. Dr. MacLauchlan, so well-known to Highlanders, and who cannot by any means be charged with favouring Episcopacy, says in his Early Scottish Church, “Some writers have endeavoured to find in the organization of the early Scottish Church a state of matters altogether analogous to that of modern Presbyterianism. Presbyterian writers have done their cause no service by pushing this analogy farther than it can bear. That the Iona brethren were presbyters, and only presbyters, no writer on either side has ever denied. That the abbot was a presbyter Bede distinctly states, being too honest to make a statement which he knew to be inconsistent with fact. That the presbyter-abbot exercised jurisdiction, no doubt with the consent of the brethren, as will be seen hereafter, over the whole body of brethren wherever located, is universally acknowledged—that jurisdiction extending at a later period over bishops. But it is utterly vain to look among those establishments for anything like what is called a Presbyterian organization. Nothing like kirk sessions, presbyteries, synods, or general assemblies, as now constituted, appear in the pages of Adamnan” (p. 172).
“And he shewed me a pure river of the water of life, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.”
Searmon.
LEIS AN URR. ARCHD. COOK A BHA ‘N DEIMHIDH.
Aug. 4th, 1861.
“Co e’nur meag air am bheil eagal an Tighearna, a ta ‘g eisdeachd ri guth a sheirbhisich, a ta ‘siubhal ann an dorchadas, agus aig nach ‘eil solus? Earbadh e as ainm an Tighearna agus leigeadh e a thaice r’a Dhia.—Isaiah l. 10.
THA curam aig a’ Chruithear de na h-uile creutair aig am bheil spiorad neobhasmhor. Ach tha cuid ann a tha a churam ni’s mionaidiche timchioll orra na muinntir eile mar sin tha focal an Tighearn a’ labhairt ann an doigh air leth riusan. Cha-n’eil staid anns am feud anam neobhasmhor a bhi anns an t-saoghail anns a’ bheatha so nach ‘eil ann an focal an Tighearna na tha freagarrach do ‘n staid sin. Seadh, air cho aindiadhaidh ‘s gu bheil creutair tha ann am focal an Tighearn na tha ‘freagairt a staid air chor ‘s nach iongantach ged a theirear ris claidheamh geur da fhaobhair, a’ gearradh air a chulaobh agus air a bheulaobh a gearradh pheacach o bhi peacachadh an aghaidh an lagha. Ach gu h-araidh tha ni anns an fhocal a tha ‘freagairt staid an duine a tha air a chur air leth airson siorruidheachd. Mar sin tha e air a radh ann an so. “Co ‘n ur meag air am bheil eagal an Tighearna, a ta ‘g eisdeachd ri guth a sheirbhisich, a ta ‘siubhal ann an dorchadas agus aig nach ‘eil solus? Earbadh e as ainm an Tighearna agus leigeadh e a thaice r’a Dhia.” ‘Se sin don didean an anama, earbsa ann an dinm an Tighearn agus a thaic a leigeadh r’a Dhia.”
Ann a’ chaibideal so tha am Fear-saoraidh a’ labhairt gu h-araidh uime fein agus moran de nadur ‘fhulangais anns an t-saoghail agus gu’n d’ thug an Tighearn Iehobbah dha teangadh nan daoine foghluitme, chum gu’m b’aithne dha focal a labhairt ann an deadh am ris an neach a ta airsnealach. Tha an t-Abstol a’ mineachadh sinn anns na briathaibh, “Mheud gu’n d’ fhuiling E fein air dha bhi air a bhuaireadh is comasach E air cabhair a dheanamh orrasan a ta air am buaireadh.” Ann an labhairt o na buathraibh so tha sinn a’ runachadh a reir mar a bhios comas air a bhuaileachadh, bhi ‘nochdadh.
I. Tearc de chomharraibh air eagal an Tighearna.
II. Mar a dh’ fheudas e bhi air a radh gu’m feud luchd-eagail an Tighearna bhi ann an dorchadas agus a’ siubhall ann an dorchadas.
III. Gu’m bheil aig luchd-eagail an Tighearna bonn earbsa ann an ainm an Tighearn ciod air bith an dorchadas anns am feud iad a bhi.
Ann an aon seadh cha-n fheudar a radh gu bheil clann Chriosd ann an dorchadas mar a tha an saoghail, oir is iad clann an t-soluis agus cha-n ‘el narodnn s aihida camar muinntir eile, do bhrigh gu’n d’imich an dorchadas thairis agus gu bheil a nis an solus fior a’ dealrachadh. “An ti a leanas mise, cha siubheil e an dorchadas
ach bidh solus na beatha aige. Tha uiread de eadar-dhealachadh eadar dorchas an anama ghrasmhoir agus dorchas staid naduir ‘s a ta eadar la is oidhche, air chor ‘s gu’m feud an t-anam giasmhor a bhi iomadh la ann an dorchas agus gidheadh bunachar earbsa aige ann an ainm an Tighearna.
I. Ann an aon seadh, ‘s iongantach gu’m biodh aon air bith anns an t-saoghal a dh’ easbhuidh eagail an Tighearna. Bhi gun eagal an Tighearna ‘s e’tha ann taradh aineolais air Dia. Cha-n ‘eil creutair anns an t-siorruidheachd a dh’ easbhuidh eagal an Tighearna. Cha-n ‘eil aon ann am flaithenas a dh’ easbhuidh eagal an Tighearna agus an urraim naoimh a bhuneas dha. Cha-n ‘eil creuteir ann an ifrinn gun eagal a bhi air roimh Dha. Agus cha-n ‘eil creutair air an talamh a dh’ easbhuidh eagal an Tighearna ach creutair a tha aineolach air Dia. Ann an seadh eile, ‘s e eagal an Tighearna an t-iongantas ‘is mo a ta againn air an talamh. Mur b’e gum bheil trocair ann’an Dia cha bhiodh drap a dh’ fhiar eagal an Tighearna air an talamh. Cha bhiodh drap de chom-fhulangas. ‘Nuair a chi sinn drap de dh’ eagal an Tighearna anns an t-saoghal feudaidh sinn co-dhunadh gur ann o dhoimhneachd saor ghrais ann an Dia a thainig e.
Gu bhi ‘fosgladh na puinge so, Tha a h-uile creutair a’ tighinn a stigh do’n t-saoghal mar an asail fhiadhaich lan aineolais air Dia. Mar sin tha moran a’ tighinn beo an am peacaidhean dhe’m biodh naire air na Geintilich. ‘S e obair an Spioraid Naoimh bhi ‘gintinn eagal an Tighearna anns an anam, agus ‘s e ‘fhocal fhein am meadhon. Cha-n ‘eil teagamh nach fheud an Tighearn iomadh meadhon a chleachdadh. ach ‘s e ‘fhocal naomh fein am meadhon gnathaichte: agus aon churam a dh’ fheudas tighinn air neach nach robh air a ghintinn le focal an Tighearna, cha chomasach sinn mornn a radh m’a dheighinn, nach fag e an creutair. Ach far an do ghin focal an Tighearna anns an anam creidimh air bith na Morachd ged nach bu mho sin na grainne de shiol mustaird, tha ann siol na beatha maireannaich, tha ann na bheir an t-anam gu beatha shiorruidh fa dheoidh. Agus ‘s e sin aon bhunachar an anama air leabaiddh bais, gur comasach e a mheur a chur air focal a ghin sin ann; agus thusa nach comasach sin a deanamh bidh siorruidheachd uamhasach agad. Air, mo chairdean cha-n ‘eil ni bheir an gath as a bhas ach aithne air Dia. Ann an so a nis thig an creutair gu aithne air gu bheil e ‘na chreutair cunntasach, agus gu bheil aige ri dol tre lamhan glan a bheir do na h-uile a reir an gniomharan agus nach dean claon bhaigh ri neach seach a cheile. Cha-n iongantach ged a bhiodh an t-anam sin fo churam mu a shiorruidheachd.
Tha sinn a’ leughadh gur creutairean cunntasach sinn agus tha sinn ag aideachadh gur creutairean cunntasach sinn, ach ciod a’ bhuaiddh a tha aig sin air moran? Am bheil e ‘g an cumail o aon pheacadh. Tha fear-brisidh na Sabaid ag aideachadh gur creutair cunntasach e ach am bheil sin ‘ga chumail o bhriseadh na Sabaid? Am bheil e a’ cumail a’ mhisgear o’mhisg? Cha-n ‘eil ach cha-n
ann mar sin a bhios e ‘nuair a bhios eagal an Tighearn air a ghintinn anns an anam le ‘fhocal “Oir a ta ar Dia-ne ‘na theine dian-loisgeach.”
Tha eagal an Tighearna gle thric air a chompanachadh le aithne air cionta. Tha da sheorsa eagail ann-aon air a chompanachadh le gradh, agus cha-n fhag sin an t-anam tre ‘n t-siorruidheachd; eagal eile a tha ‘g eirigh o aithne air cionta a’ pheacaiddh a bhi air a’ choguis. Oir cha-n ‘eil peacadh anns nach ‘eil ni tha ‘ga thoirt gu cuimhne anns a’ choguis; agus bidh ann an sin cionta agus duisgidh sin eagal agus iarrtus a bhi air falbh o Dhia. Mar sin bidh ni-eigin de nadur eagal na h-ifrinn anns a’ chreutair, agus ‘sann mar sin a tha an Cruithear a’ cur eadar-dhealachaiddh eadar coguis nadurra agus bunachar grais anns an anam. Tha iad ann an ifrinn aig an robh ni bu mho de dh’ eagalan coguis na bha aig an anam ghrasmhor. Theid moran gu ceol is dannsa gu smuaintean air Dia a chur air falbh uatha agus gu minic tha sin a’ dol lea. Bha cuid eile a thug air falbh am beatha. Ach far am bheil bunachar grais anns anam bidh an t anam a’ dluthachadh ris an Tighearn cosmhuil ris an te bhochd ud. Mata xv. 23-28; mar bu mho a bha e ‘ga cur air falbh ‘sann a bu mho a bha i a’ dluthachadh ris gus an d’ fhuair i, ‘o bhean, is mor do chreidimh; biodh e dhuit mar is toil leat; cosmhuil ris an eaglais an uair a bha i ‘na fasach, tha e air a radh gu’n do ghuil i an lathair an Tighearna. ‘S ann mar sin a tha an Tighearn a’ cur eadar-dhealachaiddh eadar an t-anam grasmhor agus a’ choguis nadurra. Ach is uamhasach eagal Dhe agus eagal ifrinn cuideachd anns an anam. Tha an Tighearn a’ toirt sin do chuspairean a ghaoil anns an t-saoghal agus tha sin a’ brisead sith an anama. ‘S iongantach am diugh gu’m faicear neach le a shith briste. Ach far am faicear aon anns am bheil an ni a’s lugha de dh’ eagal an Tighearna chithear aon le shith briste. Ged a bu righ air a chaithir e thigeadh drap a dh’ eagal an Tighearna a stigh agus bhriseadh sin a chomhfhurtachd. Ged a b’e righ Ninebheh e chuireadh e ‘fhalluinn uaith agus chomhdaicheadh se e fein le saic eudach agus shuidheadh se e fein ann an luathre. Thigeadh e a’ d’ ionnsuidh-sa agus chuireadh e mach thu a communn mallaichte an t-saoghal. ‘Se so a chuireadh an creutair a mach a peacadh, chuireadh e am misgear o’ mhisg, an t-striopach o a striopachas, agus chuireadh e thusa o cheol is dannsa. ‘Se an t-aon ni a bhiodh ‘na chomhfurtachd dhuit gu’n coinnicheadh tu ri aon no dithis anns an uaigneas le an sith briste, le an sith briste le eagal an Tighearna, ‘se sin an ni ‘bu mho a bheir-eadh de chomhfhurtachd dhuit. Ach “Co e ‘nur measg air am bheil eagal an Tighearna, a ta ‘g eisdeachd ri guth a sheirbhisich, a ta ‘siubhal ann an dorchadas agus aig nach ‘eil solus? Earbadh e as ainm an Tighearna agus leigeadh e a thaice r’a Dhia.”
Ann an so a nis thig eagalan a’ bhais a stigh, eagal gu’m faigh am bas e anns a’ staid sin. Tha thu ann an sin nach do chum eagal na siorruidheachd cuig mionaidean de chodal uaitfad do
bheatha. Ach ann an so thig eagal gu’m foigh am bas iad anns a staid sin agus cuiridh sin iad gu cleachdadh nam meadhonan. ‘S iomadh ceum a rinn bochdan Chriosd airson nam meadhonan gun ni ‘nan suil ach an slainte shiorruidh. Tha na meadhonan zle eutrom aid cuid agus cha-n ‘eil teagamh nach bi sin ‘na ghath ‘nan anam tre’n t-siorruidheachd. Ma thig thusa fo eagal an Tighearna chi thu priseil na meadhonan a chuir thu an suarachas. Cha thu gur iad meadhonan nan gras na h-aon aitean a chomharrach an Tighearn airson coinneachadh ri anamaibh agus gur iomadh iad ris an do choinnich E annta.
Cha-n ann mar a b’ abhaist dha a bhi a’ cleachdadh nam mead-honan a bhios e ‘nuair a thig drap a dh ‘eagal an Tighearna a stigh anns an anam. Ann an sin thig an creutair gu bhi anns na meadhonan mar aon aig an bheil anam. O mo chairdean, ‘s ion-gantach sin neach a’ cleachdadh nam meadhonan le creidimh air gu’m bheil anam aige is gu’m bheil aige ri dol tre lamhan glan Dhe. Faic, ‘n ann mar a b’ abhaist da bhi air maduinn Sabaid a bhios e nis? An dean urnuig bheag maduinn is oidcheche na’s leor dha a nis? Ni an saoghal urnuigh bheag maduinn is feasgar agus le sin tha iad diadhaidh na’s leor. Ach faic iad so agus na nithean a tha iad a’ sgaoiteadh o mach an lathair an Tighearna gun aon chabbhair aca air neamh no air talamh ach E fein—creutair bochd gun a bhi cuig mionaidean dhe a ghluinean ach a’ dordadh a mach ‘anama an lathair an Tighearna. Ni an creutair saoghalta urnuigh, ach c’aite am bheil ‘anam?
‘Nuair a tha eagal an Tighearna a’ tighinn a stig. ‘s e faireach-adh an anama am bunachar air am bi an creutair (tric) ag amharc, an aite a bhi ‘g amharc ri taigse shaor an t-soisgeil. Feudaidh mi radh gu’n teid e ann an sin cho fad ‘s is comasach e agus ‘nuair a tha an Tighearn ‘ga thoirt fein do’n anam cha-n ‘eil e (gu mor) ‘ga chronachadh airson sin. Mar sin ‘nuair a tha drap de shaorsa tha earbsa, ach ‘nuair a tha sin air falb tha eagal. Mar sin feudaidh an creutair a bhi iomadh la le a shith briste. Ach cha-n e fair-eachadh a’ chreutair am bunachar a chomharrach an Tighearn airson dochas a shluaigh. Agus ma’s tusa aon de chuspairean a ghaoil, leigidh E nithe fuasgailte ort a ghearras a mach as na fairichidhean sin thu agus o bhi ‘socrachadh anns na meadhonan, math dh’ fheudta cruas cridhe no math dh’ fheudta naimhdeas an aghaidh Dhe, no, math dh’ fheudta smuain-tean toibheumach a leagas sios thu aig cosan na h-arduach-daranachd. Thainig moran gu bhi ‘cur na ceisde an robh iad air an taghadh, “a’ siubhal ann an dorchadas agus aig nach ‘eil solus” ann an sin “earbadh e as ainm an Tighearna agus leigeadh e a thaic r’a Dhia.”
‘Nuair a tha creutair anns na meadhonan gun an toradh a’ tighinn a nuas air cha-n iongantach ged a bhiodh eagalan air agus e a’ leughadh a’ Bhiobuill agus E ‘na chreutair crion cha-n iongantach ged a bhiodh eagal ann.
‘Nuair a tha na h-eagalan a’ tighinn le focal an Tighearna tha
ann na tha ‘dluthachadh ris an Tighearn an aghaidh faireachadh an anama mar a chi sinn ann an Iob. “Ged mharbh E mi gid-headh earbaidh mi as.” Tha ann an nadur an anama ghrasmhoir bhi ‘dluthachadh ris mar aon chuspair gaoil an anama. Tha eagal an Tighearna iongantach priseil do bhrigh gur e a th’ ann aon de gheallaidhean priseil a’ chumhnaint.
(Ri leantuinm.)
The Late Angus Gray,
LAIRG, SUTHERLANDSHIRE.
THE decease of Angus Gray, Lairg, was duly chronicled in the March number of this magazine. We think a somewhat more extended notice is called for, inasmuch as this worthy was beyond question an epistle of Jesus Christ, written by the Holy Ghost.
Angus Gray was born in Lairg, the parish in which he died. The date of his birth was the 16th of November, 1808. From youth his manner of life was outwardly most correct. While yet a stranger to the power of Divine grace, he was urged to become a member in full communion, and shortly afterwards to accept the eldership, so decorously and religiously did he conduct himself.
The following account of this period of his life is kindly contributed by a friend, and is as far as possible in words uttered by the subject of this memoir two or three years before he finished his course here below:—”I was,” he said, “three years an elder before I knew anything of the power of grace. I was often praying when I was a boy, and when I became a young man I had great pleasure in praying in the woods. I was not taken up with vain company, and was on good terms with myself. One day I met Mr. MacGillivray, the minister, who said to me, ‘I think it is your duty to join the Church; you are making a private profession when you go to pray in the woods, and it is your duty now to make a public profession.’ I told him I had no thought of that, but he said ‘Go and pray in the woods about it, and tell me afterwards.’ I did as he wished me, and had very joyful light thoughts about it. Soon after that I was called to pray in meetings, and people were thinking well of me, and I was of the same opinion myself. Bye and bye they made me an elder.” I was not long in that office when I began to know the strength of sin and the terrors of the Lord. I fell into such a deep thought that I could not read nor pray, and a spirit of perfect atheism came over me. I could not believe that there was a God. I felt very miserable, and had it not been that I had a wife and family I would have fled from the country. One day as I was going along the road driving a horse and cart the words ‘our God is a consuming fire’ came like thunder. These words filled me with fear, and I felt as if between two hedges, an angry God on the one side and the broken
law on the other, and my heart filled with enmity against both. For some months I was in that fearful pit. Then it was He sent His Word and healed me. The words in John’s 1st Epistle—’Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins’—were made peculiarly precious to me then. Then I had great joy in the finished work of the Redeemer, and you see I needed a sore cure for the false religion of my younger days, when I thought my love and joy and prayers had gotten me the land.” On being asked how long this happiness remained, and if the atheism returned, he continued—”I have often been troubled with the unbelief of my heart, but never had again the same spirit of atheism, and my joy lasted a considerable time. Some time after my deliverance I heard Dr. Kennedy preach in Creich, and he spoke of the love of Christ, and so described my case that I was drunk with joy, and when I came out of the church I might as well have been in a foreign land for all I knew where I was. That was an English sermon, and through it I lost what prejudices I might before then have had against the English language. It was the greatest day I ever had in the world.”
It is not necessary to add much to the preceding interesting account of this period, but a few additional notes equally well authenticated may not be out of place. The late Mr. Kennedy of Dornoch was the instrument in the Lord’s hand to bring him first to see that his natural religion would not stand him in good stead when the day of trial came. Mr. Kennedy and he were companions from boyhood. In after years Angus Gray, when alluding to his indebtedness to Mr. Kennedy, would playfully state it thus: “Once when boys Mr. Kennedy and I, with a number of other boys, had a scramble together. My heel came against his mouth, and I knocked out one of his teeth, but he afterwards knocked a tooth out of me.” It is also well known that soon after this time he came powerfully under the influence of Rev. Alexander Macleod, Rogart, one of the most richly anointed of our Northern ministers, and whom for a long period he regularly heard preach, walking all the distance between Calmaily, Lairg, and Rogart in order to have that privilege. He used afterwards to say that he owed his discernment of true Gospel preaching to his having heard Mr. Macleod so long, and Angus was generally acknowledged by the pious people of his acquaintance to be the most discerning Christian in those parts.
At a somewhat early period in his history he found it his duty to protest against what he considered to be not the gospel of the grace of God, but another gospel. When Messrs. Moody and Sankey came for the first time into this country a movement was inaugurated which cost him many an anxious thought. Some time afterwards when speaking to the question at a fellowship meeting in Dornoch, alluding to the teaching of the American evangelists, he said that if this was the true gospel they, for their part, had
Christ yet to find—very solemn words, with which it was generally understood his friend, Rev. George Kennedy, did not sympathise. But it was marked that from that day forward Angus Gray spoke with a power and authority that were not his before then.
In manner the subject of this notice might, to outsiders, appear somewhat stern and unbending, but he was in reality a perfect gentleman, and when thoroughly known was always regarded as one of the kindest, humblest, and most sympathetic of Christian men. Only he was as firm as a rock in his convictions of truth.
We shall not weary our readers with a detailed account of the downgrade which began to be such a marked feature of the Church, especially the Free Church of Scotland, during the last more than thirty years. Suffice it to say that innovations in worship, laxity in discipline, corruption in doctrine, came on apace, on all which account Angus Gray felt less and less sympathy with what was passing as the current Church life of his day. When, therefore, the notorious Declaratory Act was passing through the Presbyteries in 1892 he was one of the first to realise the seriousness of the situation, and was early enabled to make up his mind not to come under the yoke, cost what it might. And although, as he himself often put it, he followed no man, but the truth only, it afforded him the sincerest pleasure when the first Presbytery of what is now known as the Free Presbyterian Church was formed in the summer of 1893. It is not too much to say that for the remaining ten years of his life, with the possible exception of the salvation of his own soul, nothing lay so near his heart as the highest well-being of this branch of Christ’s Church. He was no stranger to the temptations of the Wicked One, touching both his own interest in the Redeemer and the genuine worth of the testimony raised in 1893, but when those fiery trials passed he saw with clearer vision than before the certainty of the former and the genuine worth of the latter.
One would not act the part of an impartial historian if one were not to say that the proposals for union between the anti-unionist Free Church section and the Free Presbyterians filled him with the deepest anxiety. To others as well as to the writer of this notice he sent solemn warning more than a year before the end that he was fully persuaded that what the Spirit was saying to our Church in the matter was contained in Jeremiah xv. 19, “Let them return unto thee, but return not thou unto them.”
Although he attained the great age of 94 years, his faculties remained unimpaired to the end. He had an unusually deep sense of sin. Some months before the end he complained in the hearing of the present writer bitterly of his great sinfulness, but he said his hope was built upon that word “I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions.” The last days of his life were by far the most joyous. His cup was at last made to run over. Often times before then he put the question “Why am I being left so long?” and although at seasons one might then find it
difficult to give a satisfactory answer, it appeared an easily answered question at last. The time of the latter rain had not yet fully come. But plentifully did it come in its time. The doctrine which towards the very end was most firmly fixed in his mind was the love of the Father. His son Alexander relates how he would stop him when reading portions of the Gospels to point out the place the electing love of the Father occupied according to the Gospels in the scheme of redemption. This love was all his desire at last. To one beside him he said “I am not now afraid to die. I am persuaded that neither life nor death nor any creature can separate me for ever from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. He is even now comforting me with those words “Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us, and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins, and they are the words with which He drew me to shore at the first.”
But enough. He fell asleep in Jesus on the 24th of Feb., 1903.
“Mark thou the perfect, and behold
The man of uprightness,
Because that surely of this man
The latter end is peace.”
J. R. M.
Monument at Bothwell Bridge.
ON Saturday, 20th June, over 25,000 people assembled at Bothwell Bridge to witness the unveiling of a monument to the Covenants who fell in battle at that place 124 years ago. The speech of the day was delivered by Lord Overtoun, who gave a stirring historical account of the battle and its surrounding events. The following is part of his lordship’s peroration:—
We have heard, and our forefathers have told us, of the cruel oppression of the Romish Church. In this favoured land Roman Catholics as well as others are by law protected in the observance of their religion, but it must ever be remembered that Roman Catholicism is not only a religion but a system which aims at universal supremacy over Church, State, and conscience, and has ever been a deadly foe to civil and religious liberty, and if our religious freedom is to be preserved it is necessary that only a Protestant shall wear the British Crown. You know that in these days repeated efforts have been made to relax and remove these safeguards of our freedom. Are we alive to our responsibility in this matter? The Episcopacy of the Covenanters’ time was practically Roman Catholicism. We trust our neighbours across the border are awaking, and will not allow the Church of England to be undermined by Ritualism, Sacerdotalism, Confessional, and the Mass; but we in Scotland have no less a task incumbent on us to keep the true gospel in the forefront, and not lower the old blue banner of Christ’s Crown and Covenant.
We are glad so many as 25,000 Scotchmen could be got to interest themselves in such a matter. No doubt the greater number of these spectators are far degenerated from the pure Scriptural faith of their fathers. Not by such as these will the battle of civil and religious liberty be fought when the agony again returns. However, the monument thus inaugurated constitutes a wholesome eyesore to Romanists and ill-affected persons, and we hope the granite and what is written on it will stand for many generations.