The Declaratory Act of 1892

THE Declaratory Act of 1892 is a subject very familiar to most of our readers, and one that was handled at considerable length some years ago in the first volume of this Magazine. There have also appeared since that time several articles in more or less degree bearing upon the subject. But it would appear from some circumstances that have lately come under our notice that an occasional exposition of the character of the Act and our Church’s attitude towards it in these columns is still necessary for the instruction of people both within and without the Church. Such may also be fitted to be useful to new readers of the Magazine both at home and abroad.

It need hardly be said that it was the passing of this Declaratory Act into law by the General Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland, with the consent of a majority of Presbyteries, that occasioned the separation of the Rev. D. Macfarlane, the Rev. D. Macdonald and others in 1892, and led to the formation of the present body known as the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland. We shall briefly state in the present article some things, first, in regard to the Act itself; and, secondly, in regard to the attitude assumed by our Church towards it and the body that adopted it.

First, let us notice some things in regard to the Declaratory Act itself:

(1.) Its doctrinal character. The preamble to the Act affirms that it was drawn up with a view to relieve the difficulties and scruples felt by some in regard to the form of belief to be subscribed on entrance to the Church. The only persons known in this connection as having these difficulties and scruples were such as expressed objections to certain important doctrines in the Confession of Faith—doctrines, for example, of a decidedly Calvinistic, and we may add, Scriptural character. The Act was evidently framed to suit persons to whom the doctrines of the Confession were distasteful. After the preamble, the Act proceeds to declare, in the name of the Church, that certain views

about the love of God, the atonement, the work of the Spirit and other very important points were maintained as true by the Church, and that in consistency with the Confession of Faith. Now, we hold that these views themselves were highly unsound, being of an Arminian, semi-Pelagian, Voluntary, Popish, and Rationalistic character, while it was utterly false and misleading to declare that they were in harmony with the teaching of the Confession. In our opinion nothing was fitted to do more evil in the present day than the emission of such an Act as this of 1892. What was really required to meet the difficulties and scruples of the age was a faithful, loving exhibition and well-reasoned defence of the whole counsel of God as set forth in the Scriptures. But instead of this the Church, by the decision of its majorities, surrendered the doctrines of the faith to the clamant demands of unbelief, and became the expositor and supporter of the errors of an unscriptural system that has been very palatable to the carnal mind in all ages.

(2.) Its legal standing. The Act was passed, according to the terms of the Barrier Act, and thus became “a binding law and constitution” in the Church. The Barrier Act provides against hasty legislation. It provides against any resolution of Assembly being made a binding law and constitution in the Church without the consent of a majority of the Presbyteries. The resolution must first be sent down from the Assembly to the Presbyteries, must be approved of by a majority of them, and then again finally adopted by the Assembly. This procedure was observed and followed in the case of the Declaratory Act. A number of ministers certainly recorded dissents against the passing of the Act, but they (with the exception of two) continued members of the body that adopted it, and so were bound to respect the Act as an Act of the Church. Some of those who thus remained tried to protest against the Act in the following manner, but failed. One probationer at his ordination intimated that he answered the Questions and signed the Formula without any reference to the Declaratory Act, but the Presbytery refused to record his statement. Another got a statement to the same effect recorded by the Presbytery, but the Assembly ordered that it should be deleted.

In 1894 the Assembly passed an explanatory Act, to the effect that the Declaratory Act of 1892 was designed to lay no new burden on the consciences of any within the Church, but only to relieve the difficulties of some who were now at liberty to sign the Confession of Faith in view of the Declaratory Act. But this Act of 1894 in no wise altered the situation; it was only fitted to blind office-bearers in general as to their responsibilities in the case. Was it no new burden on the consciences of faithful office-bearers that the Church as a Church should have unfurled a banner for error and not for truth; should have attempted to relieve them of solemn vows to maintain in their Church capacity the whole

doctrine of the Confession of Faith; should have opened the door for persons of erroneous views, at the same time still requiring them to make what was to them a dishonest confession, in their answers to the Questions and their signing of the Formula, that they believed the whole doctrine of the Confession, and were resolved to maintain and defend it? Was it no new burden on the consciences of faithful office-bearers that they had now no ability whatever to prevent men of unsound principles from entering the Church, but were bound to admit them, and that with the sanction of the Church itself? Where such a state of things obtained, the Free Church of 1843 had ceased to exist.

As it was constantly asserted that the Declaratory Act was only a relief-giving Act to some, and not binding upon all, many people who were too easily deceived got into confusion on the subject. It is true that the Act was not obligatory in the sense that every person within the pale of the Church was bound to accept its provisions for himself; but it is equally true that the Act was, and continued to be, obligatory upon every person within the pale of the Church, in the sense that he was bound to recognise and respect the liberty of his neighbour to accept these provisions and make all the use of them he chose to make. In this latter sense every person that continued in the Church after the Act was passed was under the Act, in spite of all dissents.

A change took place in 1900, when a minority refused to enter along with the majority into union with the United Presbyterians, and so to form the United Free Church. This minority claims to represent the Free Church of 1843, but it will require to do more than it has yet done to remove past obnoxious legislation before it can be anything else than the Free Church of 1900, which was not in any real sense the original Free Church. It is vain, therefore, for any belonging to this body to say that they are not, and were never, under the Declaratory Act in any sense, when they continued in the Church after the Act was passed. What is the meaning, then, of their efforts towards the repeal of an Act which they say they were never under?

Secondly, let us observe the attitude assumed by the representatives of our Church towards the Declaratory Act and the body that adopted it. Our ministers not merely dissented from the adoption of this Act, as others had done, but protested against it in the strongest possible form; they ceased to recognise any longer the courts of the Church which passed the Act and after petition refused to rescind it. We held, and still hold, that the courts of a body which adopted an Act of such an erroneous character ceased to represent the Free Church of Scotland as settled in 1843. We felt that it was not enough for the fulfilment of solemn vows, for the satisfaction of conscience, or for the honour of the Church of God and the glory of Christ in the world that we should remain in fellowship with a body that had pulled down the banner of Christ’s truth from her citadel and had unfurled the banner of God-dis-

honouring error. A dissenting minority within this communion had no public testimony as a Church for the truth. Free Presbyterians, on the other hand, by the step of separation and the formation of a distinct body maintained a public testimony as a Church for the doctrines and principles of the Free Church of Scotland. We therefore claim and that justly—in no boastful or self-righteous spirit—to be the direct representatives of the Church of Scotland Free, while others we consider, so far as they have yet gone, have more of the name than the reality of the Free Church.

It seems rather strange that, notwithstanding the fact that our Church took up the definite position described, some parties are still affirming that we are as much under the Declaratory Act as those who refused to go into the United Church in 1900. They affirm that the Free Presbyterians did not form themselves into a distinct body until 1893, a year after the Declaratory Act was passed, and that they did not then repeal the Declaratory Act. Quite true; they did not repeal the Act—it was never on their statute-book; but they renounced it, and the body calling itself the Free Church of Scotland that adopted it. The very coming into existence as a distinct body of the Free Presbyterian Church was bound up with the complete renunciation of the Declaratory Act. This is clearly seen in our Deed of Separation. It is absolutely absurd then to insinuate that we are still under the Declaratory Act, or that we require to repeal it. As already shown, our Church did not regard the body which adopted the Act as any longer the Free Church, so that in separating from it we did not separate from the Free Church; we only perpetuated the Free Church as settled in 1843 in a distinct organisation. The introduction of the word “Presbyterian” into the title of the Church, as we have pointed out more than once in these columns, was made solely for the purpose of indicating that we were distinct from the larger body still calling itself the Free Church, and therefore it did not imply the adoption of any new principles.

We trust we have shown in a satisfactory manner how our Church stands in regard to the Declaratory Act. There were undoubtedly errors and innovations in the Free Church before this Act was passed, and the presence of these was a great trial to those persons who were faithful to the truth. As long, however, as the errors and innovations were not justified by any Act in which the responsibility of the whole Church was involved they felt at liberty to remain, but no sooner was an Act of this character adopted than they considered themselves bound in conscience to separate. Thus it came to pass that the introduction of the Declaratory Act was the expulsion of those who form the Free Presbyterian Church. Division is not desirable for its own sake, but division is sometimes desirable for the truth’s sake. Free Presbyterians separated in 1893 from a backsliding body, in order that they might be united in the truth, and that union has proved itself to be, in spite of occasional troubles, eminently

sweet and profitable. Let us continue to maintain the truth “in faith and love which is in Christ Jesus,” and to seek the extension of Christ’s kingdom in our own and other lands. May His glory fill the whole earth!

A Sermon.

BY THE LATE REV. JOHN KENNEDY, D.D., DINGWALL.

“Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die, O house of Israel?”—EZK. xxxiii. 11.

THIS message from God contains, in the form of an oath, a declaration regarding Himself, and, with earnestness most intense, conveys a call to the house of Israel. The declaration and the call are therefore the two things to which the text demands our attention.

I. In considering the declaration, we must first attend to the import and then to the form of it—to what God tells us, and to how He tells it.

1. The import of the declaration. It contains two statements. The first tells, in what He hath not, and the second, in what He hath, pleasure. Let us consider each of these separately.

“I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked.” And yet the wicked dies. He who saith, “I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked,” is He from whom came the message, “O wicked man, thou shalt surely die.” The death of the finally impenitent is taken for granted. It is the mind of God regarding that certain event which the text calls us to consider. This passage gives no countenance to the idea that the death of the wicked is inconsistent with the mercy of God; for we have divine mercy proclaimed right over it. In full view of this awful fact, Jehovah asserts His benevolence. Nor is it required, in order that we may reconcile it with the character of God as He is good, that we think of the death of the wicked as something less calamitous than eternal misery. Surely it is not mere temporary suffering, nor annihilation, over which Jehovah is exhibiting earnestness so intense. Only those who know not sin can be disposed to modify the retribution.

If a stranger, visiting this country, looked in on the homes made wretched by vice, some of which are not very far removed from the palace; or into the cells of our prisons, which are so prominent and so costly as government institutions, throughout our land; or on the sad scene of an execution, at which agents of the crown were present:—would he be justified in coming to the conclusion that our Sovereign was not benevolent—that such a state of things under her government was an evidence of our Queen’s lack of clemency? If the crime, on account of which the wretchedness, the bondage, and the execution were elements in

the condition of the kingdom, was ignored, it would be no wonder if a conclusion, adverse to the character of our Queen, were drawn from these facts. But let the crime be taken into account—trace to crime these instances of misery, and then not a shadow of suspicion appears to rest on the throne of our kingdom, nor on the name of our Sovereign. A ruler that would forbid the exact execution of justice in dealing with crime, would, in effect, be quite as oppressive as the most cruel of all despots. The mercy that winked at crime would produce more calamitous results than the sternest tyranny. Even goodness demands a restraint on crime, and punishment for the convicted criminal.

And let it never be forgotten that the death we are now considering, in relation to the government and character of God, is “the death of the wicked.” We must think of his crime when we think of his death—of his having resisted the will, disowned the authority, dishonoured the name, hated the being, and defied the power of God. Can we think of God as infinite in His being, glory, and goodness, without being constrained to conclude that eternal death is the wages due to all who thus sin against Him? Could we worship a God who, in the full knowledge of what He was, would award a punishment less than this? A God not necessarily to this extent just to Himself, could not be infinite, and could not be worshipped. Such awful justice as finds expression in the eternal death of the wicked, you must discover in the divine mode of government, ere you can either revere or love Him who is “over all.” If you accept in faith the truth of God’s infinity, you must accept as true the awful fact of the eternal death of all the wicked who remain unsaved.

The one pregnant difficulty is the existence of wickedness. While this fact must be assumed, it points to what must, to us, for ever remain an insoluble mystery in its relation to the will of God. But it is due to God, because of His infinite love of righteousness, that His relation to the origin of sin should be regarded without any suspicion; and it is also due to Him, as Supreme Governor, that to His mind alone the perfect rectitude of this relation should appear. It should be deemed enough by us, if to Him the existence of sin appears to be perfectly consistent with all the glory of His holiness and goodness. Into what awful darkness your mind must enter if you presume to attempt to occupy, in relation to this, any position except that of adoring silence! Do not venture, with your imperfect conceptions of the Most High, to imagine that His way of dealing with sin cannot be right, because it appears not so to you. Ignorant of God and, therefore, ignorant of sin, men often venture to pass judgment on the moral government of God, as if they had before them a finite being, dealing with some trivial offence. All error has its root in ignorance of God; all ignorance of what may and should be known of God, in hatred of the light; and all painful difficulty—all feelings that interfere with our adoration of God—and our

admiration of His ways—in the pride which thrusts us beyond our place as creatures in considering the ways of God. At any rate, the existence of sin furnishes an occasion for the infinite display of the very attributes of God on which it seems to cast a shadow—His holiness and His goodness—and a proof that God alone is necessarily infallible; for it appears that no creature can become so, either in heaven or on earth, except when, by a sovereign exercise of His goodness or of His grace, He involves their life in His own unchangeableness. If the existence of sin forms a dark background before which the glory of Him who alone is immutable all the more brightly appears, let our thoughts regarding its relation to Jehovah’s sovereign will produce the calmness of adoring silence behind the awe which overwhelms us as we think of its moral hideousness and of its everlasting results.

There is no malevolence in God which could be gratified in the death of the creature of His hands. It is not because He delights not in mercy that sin has been permitted to exist, and death has been awarded as its wages. This is sufficiently proved by His providence and by His gospel. Does He not cause His goodness to abound even to the evil and unthankful? Is not the earth, at any rate, a scene on which He makes manifest in His providential dealings with sinful men that He is “long-suffering and slow to wrath?” Each moment between birth and death is a fresh proof of this. And if, after a life made up of moments, each of them brightened by the goodness of God, the wicked dies at last, this calamity must be traced, not to lack of benevolence in God, but to impartial justice. And how ample the proof given in the cross that God hath no pleasure in the death of the wicked! There, the death of wicked persons is seen dissociated from them, and endured by a person who is the only begotten Son of God. There are the deaths of a countless multitude of wicked persons in one great retribution; and in the light of that awful fire, in which the wrath of God is exhaustively expressed, you may read the lesson of this text. They must die, but they so die in Christ that they shall surely live. Their deaths are swallowed up in the death of Him who is their Substitute; and because He alone is crucified they shall live. Here we see God dealing with sin apart from the person of the transgressor; and instead of the guilty criminal there stands at His bar a person who is His only begotten Son. O, how infinitely strong is the proof this affords that it is from impartial justice, and not from malevolence towards the persons of the guilty, that the sentence comes forth which awards death to the wicked!

But there is more than this in the first statement, in God’s declaration regarding Himself, which we have in the text. It tells us that such is the character of God, as revealed in the gospel, that it is impossible for Him to find pleasure in the death of the wicked.

Now, it is not by ignoring the stern aspect of His character

presented by the law that you can be enabled to have before your mind the view of His character given in the text. Whatever was is, and must for ever be, the character of God. He can never cease to be all He was revealed as being in the days of old. And by the law He reveals Himself now, just as He did then. You, as a sinner, have to do with Him under the same aspect of His character, and in the same relation, as Lawgiver and Judge, as they who were under the former dispensation. And only in a way which was quite consistent with all He was, and with all He claimed, and with all He threatened, as the God of Sinai—only when His name is so before you, that you can recognise Him by the same glory which made awful the place of His presence on “the mount that might be touched, and that burned with fire”—can you possibly attain to hope in His mercy.

Nor is it by concluding that because God is love, therefore He loveth all, that you can have before you the view of His character presented in the text. Beware of being content with a hope that springs from believing in a love of God apart from His Christ, and outside of the shelter of the cross. It may relieve you of a superficial fear. It may excite a feeling of joy and gratitude in your heart. It may beget in you what you may regard as love to God. This love, too, may be the mainspring of very active movements in the bustle of external service; but it leaves you, after all, away from God, ignoring His majesty and holiness, dispensing with His Christ, and enjoying a peace that has been secured by a cheating, instead of a purging, of your conscience. The time was when men openly preached an uncovenanted mercy as the resort of sinners, and laid the smoothness of that doctrine on the sores of the anxious. “Universal love,” in these days in which evangelism is in fashion, is but another form in which the same “deceit” is presented to the awakened. This is something from which an unrenowned man can take comfort. It is a pillow on which an alien can lay his head, and be at peace far off from God. It keeps out of view the necessity of vital union to Christ, and of turning unto God; and the hope which it inspires can be attained without felt dependence on the sovereign grace, and without submitting to the renewing work of God the Holy Ghost.

“God is love,” but when you hear this you are not told what must imply the declaration that He loves all, and that, therefore, He loves you. This tells us what He is, as revealed to us in the cross, and what all who come to Him through Christ will find Him to be. It is on this that faith has to operate. You have no right to regard that love, which is commended in the death of His Son, as embracing you if you have not yet believed. It is only with the character, not at all with the purpose, of God that you have in the first instance to do. What right have you to say that He loves all? Have you seen into the heart of God that you should say He loves you, until you have reached, as a sinner, through faith, the bosom of His love in Christ? “But may I not think of God

loving sinners without ascribing to Him any purpose to save?” God loving a sinner without a purpose to save him! The thing is inconceivable. I would reproach a fellow-sinner if I so conceived of his love. Love to one utterly ruined, and that love commanding resources that are sufficient for salvation, and yet no purpose to use them! Let not men so blaspheme the love of God. “But may I not conceive of God as loving men to the effect of providing salvation, and to the effect of purchasing redemption for them, without this being followed out to the result of His purpose taking actual effect in their salvation?” No, verily. For the love of God is one, as the love of the Three in One. The one love of the One God is the love of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. If that love generated in the person of the Father a purpose to provide, and in the person of the Son a purpose to redeem, it must have generated in the person of the Holy Ghost a purpose to apply. You cannot assign one set of objects to it, as the love of the Father, and a different set of objects to it, as “the love of the Spirit.” And there can be no unaccomplished purpose of Jehovah. “My counsel shall stand,” saith the Lord, “and I will do all my pleasure.” “The world,” which the Father loved and the Son redeemed, shall by the Spirit be convinced “of sin, righteousness, and judgment,” and thus the Father’s pleasure shall prosper, and the Son’s “travail” be rewarded, through the efficient grace of God the Holy Ghost.

You have no right to attempt to look in on the relation of Divine love to individuals till first you attain, through faith, to a place among His children. “Secret things belong unto the Lord;” do not, then, try to share them with Him. In considering the doctrine of the text you have nothing to do with the question—”Does God love the wicked?” It is on the character of God that you are called to look, as He hath revealed this in the cross of His dear Son. You have no right to be influenced in judging of Divine procedure by preconceived ideas of Divine counsels, or of God Himself, but by the glory of His name, as He hath been pleased to reveal it. He does not tell me that He loves the wicked; but I am assured, when I look on Him as “He is love,” that He hath no pleasure in his death. The fullest exhibition of His character, and the overwhelming proof of His having no pleasure in the death of the wicked, are given to us in the cross of Jesus Christ. “Yes,” you say, “but it is in fulfilling a sovereign purpose of grace that He has revealed Himself there.” True, but it is infinite love which He has revealed. It is by this display of His love that you are to judge of the way in which it shall fare with you, if you come to Him in response to His call. Faith has infinite love on which to operate, in order to your encouragement. For, whatever be His purpose, it is abundantly evident that “God is love.” That is the character of Him to whom you are called to return. That is the view presented to you of Him to whom you are called to return, and it is with this

that you have to do. And when you think of the special purpose in fulfilling which He has so revealed Himself, you may be all the more encouraged to return; for it is this which assures you that a salvation both free and sure awaits you when you come. The “purpose according to election,” while casting no shade on the infinity of the love, is a guarantee for the certainty of the salvation which you are called to accept. For a people, whom, in providing salvation for them, He accounted worthy of death, He gave His only begotten Son, that, buying them by His blood, He might save them by His power. You are called to meet that love in the Son as Jesus the Christ, and to present yourself on His blood as a suppliant for all the blessings of the covenant of grace. What more can you desiderate? What element of encouragement is wanting, in this form of doctrine, which any of the systems of evangelical theology, or all of them together, can supply?

But, 2. He tells us in what He hath pleasure—”that the wicked turn from his way and live.” The repentance of the wicked is an occasion of delight to God; for it is the first acknowledgment of His being “the true God,” the first tribute to His godhead from the creature of His hand; the first movement of a lost one from “the wrath to come;” the first rupture between him and that abominable thing which God hateth; the first act of homage to His Anointed, who is also His Son; the first fruit of the Spirit’s work of grace—it is grace returning to the fountain whence it came, and bringing a “wretched and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked” sinner back to be “filled” with “all the fulness of God.”

Repentance is the turning of the wicked “from his way.” To this he was attached before, for in this he gratified the evil desires of his heart. But from “his own way,” as well as from all besides that is sinful, the true penitent turns to God. But he cannot do so without bringing the guilt and the source of his wandering with him when he comes. And he turns to God. To Him he desires to come, to be a debtor for forgiveness to his mercy, and for salvation to His grace, and to consecrate himself without reserve to His service. And he comes through Christ to God, for He is “the way, and the truth, and the life,” and “no man cometh to the Father but by Him.” He, as “the way,” is all that God, in the interest of His glory, can desiderate, and that is required to make him perfectly suited to the sinner’s case. He who is “the way” is “the Word” “made flesh,” made sin, and made a curse. Through His flesh, rent because of sin and by the execution of the curse, “a new and living way” was opened unto “the holiest.” The entrance of this way is near to sinners in the Gospel—so near, that though the sinner can be brought near to it, it cannot be brought nearer to him. This way, no one but a sinner of our race may enter. It suits none else, and none besides is called. And his being a sinner is all regarding himself that is known to him who returns to God. It is not as a penitent, it is not as a loved

one, it is as a “wicked” one, with all the guilt of his evil ways, and with all the corruption of the old heart, that he comes. And when, as such, he comes to God through Christ for salvation from all sin, “there is joy in heaven over” him.

And it is pleasant to God that the penitent should “live;” and He secures that live he shall, and live for ever. Finding the Son, he finds life, for he finds in Him a righteousness in which he is set free from condemnation, and has a right to all the bliss that flows from the favour of God. He has now a principle of spiritual life in him, and the Spirit of life Himself to preserve and perfect it; and even now, foretastes of life may be his through faith; while beyond, in the full view of God, and before the wistful gaze of his own dimmed eye, are the rest and bliss, and glory of the perfect life in heaven.

There are three reasons, each infinitely strong, why this should be pleasing to God. As our greatest pains and pleasures reach our hearts through their love, the measure of love must indicate the capacity for joy. But who can conceive what must be the gladness, resulting from the gratification of infinite love! And there is a threefold love of God, through the gratification of which He receives pleasure from the penitence and life of God.

(1.) His infinite love to His people. He embraces one whom He infinitely loves, when the repenting sinner reaches the bosom of His mercy. The loved one was lost, and the loved one was dead; and now the loved lost is found, and the loved dead is alive. It was only because this was ever present to His eternal mind, that Jehovah could have rested in His love to His chosen. But now the event is actual, and the divine joy is made known throughout all heaven. O, think of joy in heaven over one whose sins made the Son of God “a man of sorrows!”

(2.) His infinite love to His Anointed One. Each case of conversion is an instalment of reward to Him for doing the will, and glorifying the name, of Him who sent Him. The Father loveth Him because He laid down His life that He might take it again; and this love he expresses in fulfilling the promise, “He shall see of the travail of His soul and shall be satisfied.” This He sees when He sees “His seed”—when the Father draws sinners unto Him, and follows this up by giving them, in Him, “all spiritual blessings” according to His intercession. The bestowal of such a reward, on such a One, must, to God, be the occasion of infinite delight.

(3.) His infinite love to Himself, and to righteousness. “God is love.” He is so when contemplated in the unity of the eternal Godhead. But love requires an object; and He Himself who is love is the first object of the love He is. It is because His own infinite moral glory is ever present to His conscience, that, through His love, it yields to Him who is “over all” such delight that He is “blessed for ever.” And “God is love” as subsisting in a Trinity of Persons. “The Father loveth the Son,” and that Son

is, and ever was, “daily His delight.” “I love the Father,” saith the Son, and I was “rejoicing always before Him.” And the Holy Spirit, who “proceedeth from the Father” and from the Son, lovingly fulfils the purpose of the Father through the Son. O, infinitely holy sphere! O, sphere of infinite loving—the unapproachable sphere of the interrelations and fellowship of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! And “God is love” to righteousness in His relation to His moral government. And when He makes manifest that He is love to His people, He does so in such a way as to secure that in their salvation there shall appear to His view, to His infinite delight, all to which He is love—as to afford an opportunity of expressing what He is as love to Himself, what the mutual love of the Trinity is, and how He loveth righteousness.

How the beauty of His holiness, to which He is love, appears in its having pleased Him to bruise His well Beloved, that there might be healing to diseased, and peace to guilty sinners! How infinite must be His delight in this display of His glory, and how intent He must be on the salvation in securing which this joy was occasioned! Never did so much of His glorious character appear in any of His works as in the cross of Christ; but all this came forth in the prosecution of a scheme which bore on the salvation of sinners. True, all redemption work is before us on the cross. But the ulterior bearings of that work must be considered. Actual salvation is the terminating part of the divine scheme of grace, and each step of it must be brightened with the glory that shone forth in the course which led to it. If “truth met with mercy” in the cross, it was with a view to their coming forth together, from the presence of God on His throne, in the glad-tidings of the Gospel, to guide a sinner unto “the holiest,” where alone He can obtain the blessing. If “righteousness and peace embraced each other,” it was with a view to His being righteous to Christ, in giving peace, for His sake, to those who deserved to die. The infinite display, already given, finds its complement in a work of grace. To this new occasion of expressing Himself, He comes in all the glorious brightness of His name, as revealed in the cross. And in how many ways, in His work of grace, resulting in the penitence and life of the wicked, He manifests the glory of His power, wisdom, faithfulness, holiness, and love!

And how salvation furnishes an opportunity of exhibiting the mutual love of the Persons of the Godhead! The Father’s love to the Son appears in His having delivered all things into His hand; and you are called to look, in the light of the Gospel, on this demonstration of that wondrous love. And the Son desired that the world should know how He loved the Father, by His obedience unto death, even the death of the cross. O, infinite wonder, that the blood which tells you there is peace for a sinner, is the demonstration which the Son has given to the universe of His love to the Father! And the Spirit, as the Comforter, takes the things of Christ, and of the Father, and, in fulfilment of the Father’s purpose, and of the design of the Son’s death, shows them to the sinners who are made heirs of salvation!

And how exhaustive, even as a revelation of divine glory, is the expression of His love of righteousness given in the death of His Son! The sins of a people eternally beloved, are imputed to Him who is His only-begotten Son; and for those sins, even He dies the death of the cross! O, how could any other exercise of justice, or all acts of justice that can occur in the course of His moral government together, express His love of righteousness as the atoning death of His dear Son hath done? Only once did He, in the exercise of retributive justice, deal with one who was “His fellow,” and only then could He, in one final transaction, give an exhaustive display of His righteousness. O sinner, all that God is, as He “is love,” takes side with His mercy, when He receives and blesses him who, at His call, comes to Him through Christ crucified!

1. The declaration is in the form of an oath—”As I live, saith the Lord.” It is meet that such a declaration should have such a form, for thus only could earnestness, springing from infinite love, express itself fitly in words. What a proof this gives you of God’s intense desire that you should believe what He declares! He swears by Himself in declaring to you that He hath no pleasure in your death, but that He hath pleasure in the repentance and life of all who turn to Him. Ought you not to fear remaining an unbeliever after all? Is this divine earnestness to be met by indifference? Does this wave, coming from the divine sphere, in the eager movement of a solemn oath, strike on adamant when it reaches you? Can you dare to dash it back by presenting to it a heart of stone? Are you to be unmoved and callous before this display of divine earnestness infinitely intense? Are you to sleep on while this oath from heaven, uttered by the voice of God, strikes on your ear? For, does He not give Himself, in all the reality of His being and glory and blessedness, as security for the truth of His declaration? How real to God He Himself is! But as He consciously lives in what He is, as infinite, glorious, and blessed, so is He true in the declaration of the text. What higher, firmer ground of assurance can even God give you than this? O sinner, it is enough! You might suspend on this ten thousand times ten thousand souls, each one as lost as the one soul you have, and you would run no risk. O, yield not to the unbelief that would dare to prefer a charge of perjury against Him for whom it is impossible to lie!

And does He not give Himself, in all the infinite resources that are His as God, in pledge of action, according to the declaration of the text? Does not this suffice? Can more be asked? He shall cease to have, He shall cease to be, ere He can fail to be the God of salvation to you, if you return to Him at His call. O, what condescension is here! O, how can you be at ease while the infinite Jehovah is thus in intensest earnestness bending over you?

O, lie in the dust before Him, as He approaches you in this marvellous act of condescension, and allow Him to lay the weight of His oath on your heart, to press out of it all its doubts regarding His truth and grace!

II. The Call.

From out of the midst of divine glory, from off the divine throne of grace, and intense with divine earnestness, comes the call to the house of Israel—”Turn ye, turn ye, from your evil ways.” Whence, whether, how to turn, are the questions which these words require us to consider.

Whence? “From your evil ways.” Every way in which you depart from the fellowship and service of God is “evil.” Forsaking God is the great evil. It appears so to God as He looks on His own infinite glory, and on the provision of His everlasting love. How—because of His love to Himself and of His zeal for His own glory—His holy indignation must rise into infinite flame against that sin on the part of the creature of His hand! And how wonderful it is that, in the full view of all that evil, and in His immovable resolution to deal out to all sin a full retribution according to justice, He should call the sinner from his evil ways, to be embraced on the bosom of His mercy! But the call is issued through the rent flesh of His own dear Son. The precious blood of His Lamb is before Him, as He calls the sinner from his evil ways; and to the praise of all His name, He can call the sinner to His mercy-seat. What the great High Priest presents meets all His holy indignation as it demanded expression in the infliction of the curse; and in gracious dealing for His sake with the wicked it can be brought to bear, as consuming fire, on the sin whence sprang the guilt which atoning blood removed.

“From” all “your evil ways” you are called to turn; for there can be no turning unto God if there is any reserve of sin. Each evil way is opposed, by an infinite contrariety, to the will of God. Sometimes, the conscious reserve is reduced, under the pressure of conscience, to one evil way. What eager cries come from the flesh for that one, and only that one, reserve! And what attempts will be made to come to terms with God while still cleaving to some darling sin? But it may not be. All sin must be forsaken by the will that inclineth Godwards. How can divine holiness admit of any reserve? To cover any sin with your embrace is to place yourself naked before the sword of God. He must strike at sin. O, beware lest He strike at sin through you! Come forth in your desire, away from, quite out of, all sin, to God. “Cut off your right hand,” “pluck out the right eye,” rather than pass on to the fire that never shall be quenched. And how can divine grace admit of a reserve? Salvation from all sin is the boon which grace confers. Nought less than this can express its bounty, and nought less than this can suffice for you. Less than this you cannot have from the hand of God, He cannot give you salvation to the dishonour of the law of Christ, as the one authoritative rule of life.

His holy grace undertakes yet to give to the law, even in that form, its claims in full; and it begins to do so by bringing a sinner with a heart broken from all sin under its holy yoke.

“But must I rid myself of my guilt and of my evil heart before I come back to God?” Verily not. You are called to come as you are, in the midst of your evil ways, with all the guilt that lieth on you and with all the fountain of evil in you. Burdened and filled with sin, having no righteousness to cover your persons, and no excuse to hide your guilt, and while there is nothing in all your consciousness but sin, all over and all through—with no ability yours but the fell power to transgress—you are called to receive all the pardoning mercy and all the saving grace you need.

1. Whither? To Himself God calls you. To Himself as revealed in the declaration going before—to Himself as on His throne of grace—to Himself through Jesus Christ. Beware of a Godless Christianity as well as of a Christless religion. Souls, having only the uneasiness caused by the fear of death, are anxious only for something that will take their blind dread away. They have not known God in His awful glory as Lawgiver and Judge, and they care not to realise Him in the person of the Saviour. They feel not their need of a divine Saviour to remove the guilt, and to subdue the power, of sin. And they ask not to be admitted, under the Spirit’s teaching, into the mystery of the cross, to see a way for sinners unto God. The glory shining from the face of Jesus draws them not through the Mediator unto God. And they shrink from the pressure of divine authority on their conscience. But “he that believeth on me,” saith Christ, “believeth not on me but on him that sent me.” By Christ you must “believe in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, that your faith and hope might be in God.” “If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.” Believing thus, God shall be before you in such an aspect of His character and in such a relation to sinners through Christ—in such marvellous love and in such readiness to bless you when you come—that you will be sweetly subdued into compliance with His call, and you cannot choose but to come. Divine glory, shining from the face of Jesus on a quickened soul, melts the heart, and causes it to flow down to the footstool of the throne of mercy. And the very view of God which wins his confidence secures the homage of the penitent. He must appreciate His awful righteousness, as displayed in the cross, as well as realise His majesty, ere he can have hope. And what he requires to encourage him suffices to subdue him into an unreserved surrender of his whole being to God. The life that moves toward Him in hope bows to His sovereign will and lies in adoring worship at His footstool.

How? In willingness to accept the terms proposed by God as

terms of salvation and of service. Even if you feel that you cannot come back to God—that unless He, in His almighty grace, comes for you, you cannot come to Him—yea, even if you should shrink from asking Him to come—if you only turn in the distant darkness to Him who is the way, and to God through Him, willing to owe Him the turning and drawing that you may come, as well as the blessing when you have come—He “will pour out” His “Spirit unto you, and make known” His “words unto you.” Turning thus, you will verily be debtors to His grace for all you need. And you may be hoping debtors, for He raiseth the poor from the dust, He bringeth the fallen from out of the horrible pit, and He gathereth, as He calleth, outcasts from the very ends of the earth.

Surely, then, God may ask the question, “Why will ye die?” You have this question to answer. The reason for your dying is not on God’s side. He has abundantly shown this. And on your side it is not found in your fall in Adam nor in the ruin resulting from that fall. It is not in your helplessness, for you are called to lean under the gracious power of God to be saved by Him. It is not in the influence of the world, insidious and mighty though that be, for it cannot constrain you to be aliens from God. It is not in the might of the great enemy, nor in the multitude of his hosts, nor in the depth of his cunning, nor in the greatness of his cruelty; for, “strong man” and “murderer” though he be, he cannot for one moment keep you away from Him who calleth you, if you are disposed to come.

“Then why will ye die?” God meets you in the face, where you are, and as you are, with this question. You are bound to give an answer, for only your unwillingness to return can slay you. And are you to remain unwilling? If so, how can you justify yourself? “My unwillingness,” you say, “is just the lack of something which I can only have from God, and if He does not bestow it, then what can I do?” But, friend, do not think of your unwillingness as a mere negation—a blank for God to fill up. It is positive wickedness: it is sinful madness. It is an insult to God, implying contempt of His love, of His Son’s precious blood, of His great salvation, and of His glorious name. To remain unwilling is to remain a rebel, disowning Divine authority, and bidding defiance to Divine power. And are you to choose this, rather than submit to be saved, ruled, and filled by God? “Oh, but my unwillingness is the result of my being in a state of death as an alien from God, under the guilt and power of sin; how, then, can I help myself?” But, friend, the question is not, how can you help yourself, but, will you be indebted for all help to God? Will you die in your pride, even when confessedly helpless, rather than let Christ be “all in all” to you—rather than let the grace of God do all for you? To this point you are shut up, and this leaves your unwillingness exposed in all the nakedness of excuseless rebellion.

“Why will ye die?” Whatever may befall those who never heard the call to return to God, “why will ye die, O house of Israel?” “Line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little,” have been given you, and is death to be your end? But the Gospel has been preached to the Gentiles, and to Gentiles also God hath granted repentance unto life. To each Gospel-hearer, therefore, this question is addressed by God. “The Son of man,” who came “to seek and save that which is lost,” has come to you in your sinful helplessness, offering Himself to be to you all that you need, in order to your everlasting salvation; and, after all, will ye die?

And “why will ye die?” What is there in death that you should choose it rather than life? And yet every sinner who remains impenitent is charged with choosing death. God charges you with this when He addresses to you this question. And you are charged with choosing death because you love it, for He saith—”he that sinneth against Me wrongeth his own soul; all they that hate Me love death.” Rejecting the Gospel is sinning against Christ. You cannot do so without wronging your own soul. And this you do because you hate Christ. Not because you are merely indifferent. You would not sin against Him as you do if you were merely indifferent. A consideration of your own interest would turn the scale if there was an even balance. But it is not indifference, but hatred, that is your state of feeling towards Christ. And you cannot hate Him without loving death. “O no,” you say, “I cannot love death—I shrink from shame and agony, and both are implied in death.” True, what you regard as death you would fain escape from. But, in the view of Christ, it is death to be away from God. And you do love to be away from Him. And in loving this, you love death. And such is your love of this that you will not abandon it, though God tells you, and your conscience whispers to you that if you abide an alien you must perish for ever. You know that the death you love is linked to the death of woe from which your conscience makes you shrink, and that you cannot cleave to the former without holding both in your grasp. And you never have at once any portion of time but the passing moment; and on that narrow foothold you always stand at the brink of hell. What you do there is always finally done, for it is done by you on all you have of time. And there you keep fast your hold of that which must bring you down. Even now and there you do so. O “why will ye die?” Is there aught in “outer darkness” to commend it to you, so that you would choose to pass into the midst of it? Or is there aught in the “devouring fire” and the “everlasting burnings” to induce you to “dwell” with them for ever? Care ye to be in the bonds of despair and under the fang of the “worm” that “dieth not.” O, “why will ye” thus “die?” To God, who puts the question, give, if you can dare, the answer. And if you have no answer to give, fall silenced before the footstool of Him who calleth you. But break the

silence of excuselessness by a prayer for mercy, and continue to cry till an answer cometh from the mercy-seat, “Turn me, and I shall be turned.”

The Death-Bed of Mr. James Melville,

NEPHEW OF THE FAMOUS ANDREW MELVILLE.

JAMES MELVILLE died on the 19th of January, 1614, at Berwick, where he had been in exile for seven years. The following is a most interesting narrative of his death-bed by a contemporary:—”Being exhausted with the pain, he fell over in a quiet sleep, which lasted till twelve o’clock; sundry of the chamber went to their bed upon good hopes of his recovery. About one of the night he awoke extremely sick, and says to his son, ‘I fear my own weakness; I cannot last long. Take heed to me, or else I shall slip away!’ On his awakening, he says, ‘Go waken the landlord, doctor, and Mr. Durie.’ The doctor coming in haste to him, he tells him the pain had removed from his side and back, and had come to his heart, using these words, ‘Palpitat cor.‘¹ The doctor replies it was a token his battle was near an end. Fearing this, he cries, with Simeon, ‘Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace; mine eyes have seen thy salvation: A light revealed to the Gentiles, and the glory of Israel.’ Luke ii. 29-32. He says to the minister, ‘Good Mr. Durie, give me the last good-night. Command my soul and body unto the hands of God, my Redeemer.’ This being done, he comforteth himself with sundry speeches out of the Psalms, which he rehearsed in Hebrew; as namely, one speech out of the 4th Psalm, ‘Lord, lift up the light of thy countenance upon me;’ the 27th Psalm, ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation, what can I fear?’ the 23rd Psalm, ‘Although I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, yet will I fear none evil, because God is with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.’ The candle being behind his back, he desired that it might be brought before him that he might see to die. By occasion whereof that part of the Scripture was remembered, ‘Light arises to the righteous in the midst of darkness’ (Psalm cxii. 4). ‘The Lord will lighten my candle, he will enlighten my darkness’ (Psalm xviii. 28).

“For the space of two hours the pain and sickness held him so at the heart that he was without language, during which time his son remembered him of many comfortable speeches of Scripture, which he heard with great joy and with great cheerfulness. In token whereof he gave everyone demonstration, and made a sign with his hands, testifying his inward motion conform, in token of his joy and feeling, when any comfortable sentence of Scripture was uttered to him.

¹ The heart palpitates.

“When the 14th chapter of John was remembered, ‘Let not your hearts be troubled, ye believe in God, believe also in me,’ he lifted up his hand towards heaven. When the five wise virgins were remembered, who had their lamps in readiness to meet the bridegroom, he put his hand to his heart and knocked thrice on it. When he was remembered of Paul’s speech (Rom. viii. 35-39) ‘Who shall separate us from the love of God? Shall principalities, or powers, things present or to come, life or death?’ he turned the back of his hand to them all, and rejoiced in this, that in them all he should be more than conqueror through Christ that loved him. So, feeling his pain to work upward, and perceiving his ear to fail him, that he heard not so well as he did before; after a long silence, when we thought the power of speaking had left him, in very clear terms he cries out, putting his hand on his ear, ‘He is here; he is here! Welcome, welcome!’ meaning death. Being asked, If he were desirous to turn back? he answered and said, ‘William, William, I am now sure I shall not go again back for twenty worlds!’ Comforting himself with that speech, Psal. xxxvi. 8, 9: ‘How excellent are thy mercies to us; therefore, the children of men trust under the shadow of thy wings: Thou feedest them with the fat things of thine house, and givest them to drink of the rivers of thy pleasures; for with thee is the well of life; in thy light we shall see light.’ Being remembered of Jacob’s vision of a ladder that he saw betwixt heaven and earth, God upon the head of it, the angels going up and down, he says, ‘Steep is the ladder of death, and loath is flesh to climb it!’ Being remembered of Paul’s translation to the third heavens, and of the glorious revelations he got there, he answered, ‘Every one was not with Paul, notwithstanding he was assured to be filled with glory.’ When they told him of the sight of Stephen, how he saw the heavens open and the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God, he prayed Stephen’s prayer, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ (Acts vii. 59.) When a speech of the Canticles was fitted unto him, it greatly rejoiced him, being a part of the Scriptures in which he was diligently versed, and which he had paraphrased and turned into pleasant poetry. This was oft in his mouth, ‘My well-beloved is mine, and I am his’ (Cant. ii. 16). ‘Cover me with the banner of his love; stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples’ (Cant. ii. 5).

“After this manner the morning was put off, his breath drawing upward continually, in as great peace and quietness as before he had pain. When we thought that all his senses were gone, and he almost without feeling, he lay so quiet, his son cried into his ear and asked what he was doing. He answered, although with great difficulty, he was ‘singing the Song of the Lamb.’ At which all then wondered.

“We desired him to give us the last sign of his inward joy through the sense of God’s presence, and his readiness to depart cheerfully. He lifted up both hands and said, ‘Sweet Jesus, receive

my soul! After these words he never stirred, but sobbed softer and softer, till at length he surrendered the spirit; and that so quietly, peaceably, and insensibly that none could perceive; and, like the patriarch Jacob, he ended his days, which were few and excellent, and wholly spent in the service of God, as the story of his life will declare; and he eats the fruits of his labours (in part of the soul), amongst the number of the righteous, till the day of the full redemption of the children of God; when in body and soul he shall shine in the heavens, as the sun and the moon and the firmament: To which place may the Lord bring me in that everlasting joy and portion, for Christ’s sake. Amen.”—Gillies’ Historical Collections.

A Letter by the Late Captain Ross.

BEAUFOY STREET, WICK,
September, 1898.

MY dear J.,—If you would be as well as I would like you to be, you would be well spiritually and temporally. But I cannot understand aright what spiritual life means. It is the beginning of a life that shall never end, and it changes sinners, it is said, from darkness to His marvellous light. This is the life that a Christian wants to have, but he cannot understand (fully) what he is wanting. And no wonder; Job, who knew so much of the Most High in His ways, had the cry, “Oh that I knew where I might find Him;” and yet he was never nearer to the object of his love. His soul was full of the Lord’s love, and could not rest for the longing he had after the Saviour. But many a sore trial he had before his soul came to be so full of love to the Lord, crying, “Oh that I knew where I might find Him.” It was a longing cry, but a soul’s sweet cry. He was afraid that he would not get the Lord, so as to taste of His love. But they that the Lord is dealing with, will be as Paul, in deaths often. They are often in darkness, and are often concluding they never got grace, so unlike grace, so hard-hearted, so lifeless in spiritual things they feel themselves to be. They find themselves in a dark, dead state, and cannot pray or read, or mourn after the Lord. It is a state not easy to bear, but a safe state.

The Christian’s life is a curious life. None knows what he feels but himself and the Lord. I would not change my life for the richest or the most honoured in the world, and yet I am sometimes concluding I did not get grace; I am so empty and dead. But it is good for His people to be made poor.—With kind love,
etc.
R. Ross.

Acknowledgment of Donations.—Rev. Neil Cameron begs to acknowledge, with thanks, the following anonymous subscriptions towards St. Jude’s Building Fund:—10s. from Carrbridge and 10s. from Tomatin.

A Letter from Canada.

(To the Editor of the F.P. Magazine.)

BRUCEFIELD, ONTARIO, CANADA,
August 7th, 1903.

DEAR SIR,—Will you kindly allow me a little space in the Magazine, so that I may tell our brethren of the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland how much we appreciate their kindness and self-denial in their sending, first, Mr. Cameron, and then Mr. Mackay, to minister to our spiritual wants? These good men are both held in very high esteem by all our people, and although some may laugh and flout at us, and hold us in derision, yet there are not wanting indications that the Lord has used them as instruments in His own hand to bring some here to the knowledge of the truth. It might not be wise or prudent to mention any particular cases, as some seed fall by the wayside, and some in stony places, and some among thorns, and do not bring any fruit to perfection. But while this is true some do fall into good ground and bear fruit abundantly. And the earnest attention which characterised all the meetings was surely some evidence that the word preached was making some impression; but the final result is known only to Him who knoweth the end from the beginning, and who searcheth the hearts and trieth the reins of the children of men.

But He who is the Truth hath said regarding the word that goeth out of His mouth, “It shall not return to me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.” And we sincerely hope and trust that the seed sown by our worthy friends will take root downward, and bear fruit upward, and that it shall redound to the glory of God’s great name.

We hope and trust that their respective congregations suffered no privation in their absence, but that they received abundantly out of the fulness of Him in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.

And now, before concluding this letter, I would like to take this opportunity of using the Magazine as a medium of conveying our thanks to all our friends of the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland for the lively interest that they are taking in us. For although we are far separated by sea and land, yet I hope we are united in spirit, and in our endeavours to maintain soundness of doctrine and purity of worship.

With regard to the visits of Mr. Cameron and Mr. Mackay, they have been to me (and I believe to all our friends here) a source of comfort and encouragement, except for the parting. But I would fain hope to be so happy as to meet them both on yonder shore, where parting will be known no more.—Yours respectfully,

GEORGE FORREST.

Searmon.

LEIS AN URR. ARCHD. COOK A BHA ‘N DEIMHIDH.

18th August, 1861.

“Uime sin thigibh a mach as am meadhon, agus dealaichibh riu tha an Tighearn ag radh, agus na beanaibh ris an ni neoghlan: agus gabhaidh mise am’ ionnsuidh sibh, agus bithidh mi a’m’ Athair dhuibh, agus bithidh sibhse ‘n’ur mic agus ‘n ur nigheanaibh dhomh-sa, tha an Tighearn uile-chumhachdach ag radh.”
—2 Cor. vi. 16, 17.

THA focal an Tighearn iongantach; ach do bhrigh nach robh toradh ann do mhoran, cha robh a bheag de bhuaidh aig orra. Agus tha sin a reir an rùin shiorruidh. Tha sinn a’ leughadh, an uair a bha an t-Abstol a’ dol mu’n cuairt a’ searmon-achadh, gu’n do chreid moran, agus a mheud ‘s a bha air an orduchadh chum beatha, gu’n do chreid iad. Ach an dream, nach robh air an orduchadh chum beatha, bha iad direach air an cruadhachadh. Is iomadh bagradh uamhasach a tha ann am focal an Tighearna agus siorruidheachd ceangailte riu. Ann an toiseach a’ chaibidil so tha an t-Abstol a’ foillseachadh cunnart luchd-eisdeachd an t-soisgeil, gu’n cluich iad ri nithibh na siorruidheachd, agus tha e a’ guidhe orra gun iad a ghabhail gras Dhe an diomhain. Cha-n ‘eil comhfhurtachd air bith anns an t-saoghal ach toradh gras agus deagh-ghean Dhe. Cha-n ‘eil taigse no meadhon grais nach ann uaith sin a tha e. Ach feudaidh creutairean cluich ris. Ach cha chomasach gras slainteil bhi air a ghabhail gu diomhain. Feudaidh gras cumanta bhi air a ghabhail an diomhain. Uime sin tha a leithid sin de ghealladh ann, “thigibh a mach as am meadhon. . . . agus gabhaidh mise.”

Tha moran an dùil gu’m feud an saoghal a bhi aca ann an aon laimh agus an diadhachd anns an laimh eile. Tha muinntir eile a’ saoilsinn gur comasach iad air fasanan an t-saoghal bhi aca ann an aon laimh agus an diadhachd anns an laimh eile. Uime sin dealaichibh riu. Cha chomasach sibh air seirbhis a dheanamh do Dhia agus do Mhanon. Tha moran ann a bhiodh ni bu tearuinte ‘nan staid le iad a thilgeadh cleoc na diadhachd dhiubh gu buileach. Thus’ air am bheil e agus a tha beo ann am peacadh air bith cha-n ‘eil agad ach sgàile eadar d’ anam is Dia; agus ruisgidh Dia an sgàile sin diot aig là a’ bhreitheanais.

Ann an labhairt o na briathran so tha sinn a’ runachadh, ‘a bhi ‘g amharc air

I. Beagan de shoichairean clann Chriosd,
II. Beagan de’n tighinn a mach,
III. A’ ghealladh dhoibhsan a thig a mach agus a dhealaicheas riu.

Tha iomadh creutair gun ghras an dùil gur comasach iad fein air tighinn a mach, Ach ‘s ann ri eaglais Dhe a tha na briathran so a’ labhairt.

I. ‘S iongantach an onoir sin aon a bhi ‘na leanabh do Dhia. Bidh daoine a labhairt air fuil ard agus sinnsireachd uasail, ach cha-n ‘eil anns an t-saoghal ach fuil thruailte, cha-n ‘eil boinne

de’n fhuil rioghail ann. Ach O! ‘s iongantach an onoir sin aon a bhi ‘na leanabh do Dhia. ‘Nuair a bha an t-Abstol Eoin a’ beachdachadh air a staid fhein agus staid clann Chriosd, chaidh sin thairis air gu’m bu chomasach e a ghabhail a stigh agus ‘s e ‘thubhaint e, “Feuchaibh ciod a’ ghne ghraiddh a thug an t-Athair dhuinne, gu’n goirteadh clann De dhinn.” Ann a cheud staid bha an duine ann an daimh iongantach dluth do Dhia. Ann an soisgeul Lucais tha sinn a’ leughadh air na ginealaichean air an leantuin gu sin, “B’e Adhamh Mac Dhe.” Bha sin ‘na dhaimh iongantach dluth do Dhia. Ach chaill an duine sin agus ged a’ tha e an crochadh air Dia airson a bhith gidheadh cha-n ‘eil na’s mo de chomunn aig ri Dia na tha aig bruidean na macharach, seadh, tha na creutairean sin anns a’ staid anns an do chruthaich-eadh iad, ach cha-n ‘eil an duine mar sin. Chaill e a cho-chomunn ri Dia air bonn ceartais, agus cha-n e sin a mhain ach thainig smuaintean suarach air Dia stigh anns an anam. Cha-n eil naire air an t-saoghal dhe ni air bith ach Dia. Cha nàire leo bhi fon’ mhi-ghean, cha nàire leo breug ach bu nàire leo bhi air am faicinn ann an cùil ag urnuigh ri Dia. Cha-n e sin a mhain, ach thainig spiorad naimhdeis an aghaidh Dhia stigh ‘s an anam. Nis, ciod e an onoir gu’m biodh an creutair air a thoirt a stigh ann an daimh ri Dia? Bha a’ cheisd aon uair ann an cùirt nam flathanas, cionnus a chuireas mi thu am measg na cloinne? Chuir a’ cheisd sin uile bhuadhan Dhe gu dearbhadh. (Agus tha ferg Dhe ‘na luidhe ortsa mur d’ thainig sin riabh gu bhi ‘na cheisd ort.) Ach dh’ fhuasgail Criosd a’ cheisd sin agus thubhaint e, “goiridh tu rium-sa, m’ Athair,” agus “bidh eolas aca uile orm o’n neach a’s lugha gus an neach a’s mo dhiubh”—cha-n ann tuilleadh mar an Cruithear a mhain ach mar an Athair trocaireach a’ maitheadh an aineolais air Dia agus am peacanna. “Agus is i so a bheatha mhaireannach, eolas a bhi aca ortsa an t-aon Dia fior agus air Iosa Criosd a chuir thu uait.” ‘S e so a nis a th’ aig a’ chloinn.

‘S ann o dhoimhneachd ard-uachdranachd agus saor-ghras ann an Dia a dh’ eirich e gu’m biodh duine air a thoirt a stigh anns an daimh so. ‘Nuair a pheacaich an duine cha-n ‘eil teagamh nach do chomh-dhùin na h-aingil gu’n robh e cho caillte ris na droch-spioradan. Cha robh sonas a’ Chruithear an crochadh air an duine. Bha a shonas siorruidh aige ann fein o shiorruidheadh. ‘Nuair a thuit an duine, ged a dh’ fhagadh Dia e anns an staid sin cha bhiodh sonas na Morachd ni bu lugha. Mar sin ‘s ann o shaor ghras a shruth e gu’m biodh peacaich air an toirt a stigh anns an daimh sin do Dhia. Nan rachamaid do ghloir ‘s gu’m feoraicheamaid ciod a thug dhoibh an inbhe a chosnad? Nach abradh iad uile? B’e toil Dhe e. Mar sin cha-n iongantach ged a thubhaint an t-Abstol. “Feuch ciod a’ ghne ghraiddh a thug an t-Athair dhuinn gu’n goirteadh clann De dhinn!” Gidheadh tha e a reir uile bhuadhan na Morachd iad a bhi air an toirt a stigh anns an daimh sin agus gu’n seasadh an Cruithear dhoibh mar Athair. ‘S iongantach an daimh a tha eadar an Cruithear ‘s an

creutair ach ‘s e so da rireadh a ta iongantach gu’m biodh Dia ‘na Athair do pheacaich ‘s gu’n deiligeadh e riu mar Athair. Mar a tha sinn a’ leughadh ann am Hosea, “Tarlaidh air an la sin, tha an Tighearn ag radh, gu’n goir thu dhiom-sa, m’ Fhear”—mo Dhia. Tha briathran iongantach ann an Isaiah. “Mar so deir an Tighearn, a chruthaich thu, O Iacoib, agus a dhealbh thu, O Israeil, na biodh eagal ort oir shaor mise thu, ghairm mi thu air d’ainm, is leamsa thu. ‘Nuair a shiubhlas tu troimh na h-uisgeachaibh bidh mise maille riut agus troimh na h-aimhnichibh cha tig iad tharad; ‘nuair a dh’ imicheas tu troimh ‘n teine cha loisgear thu agus cha dean an lasair greim ort, oir is mise an Tighearn do Dhia.” Nis ‘s e sin cuid de na trioblaidean anns am bheil Dia a’ seasamh dhoibh mar Athair agus feumaidh a chlann aideachadh tre ‘n t-siorrudheachd gu’n do laimhsich E iad mar Athair, cha-n e a mhain mar Dhia ach mar Athair. Cha-n ‘eil buadh ann an Dia a dh’ fhoillsich E, nach ann d’ a chloinn a rinn E sin. ‘S iomadh ainm a ghabh an Cruithear dha fein anns an d’ fhoillsich E e fein, agus cha-n eil ainm anns nach robh feum aig a chloinn air, agus cha-n ‘eil ainm a’s millse na an t-ainm Athair. ‘S ann anns an ainm sin a dheilgeas e riu tre ‘n t-siorrudheachd. Tha an t-aon ghaol do ‘n anam ann an tri pearsaibh na Morachd ged is ann tre’n Eadarmheadhonair a tha e a’ sruthadh a dh’ ionnsuidh an anama. Tha E fein a’ labhairt air ‘Eaglais mar aon ghaol ‘anama. Nis c’uim’ a thoisich so? ‘N ann ‘nuair a rinn an t-anam aithreachas? O, cha-n ann. ‘S e a bh’ann, diomhaireachd ann an Dia nach b’ aithne do na h-anglibh, oir cha-n e gaoil cruthaichte a bh’ ann ach gaol Dhe. Tha an t-Abstol, a’ labhairt air gaol Chriosd ag radh. “Fheara, gradhaichibh ‘ur mnathan fein eadhon mar a ghradhaich Criosd an eaglais agus a thug se e fein air a son.” Cionnus a bha sud? Direach, b’ e an t-aon chuspair a thug air falbh a chridhe. ‘S e ‘th’ ann an so, gaol an Athar, gaol neochaoclach. ‘S iomadh anmhuinneachd a dh’ fheudas a bhi ann an leanabh, gidheadh tha e iongantach ma dh’ atharraicheas gaol an Athar. “Oir tha so mar uisgeachaibh Noah dhomh, mar a mhionnaich mi nach rachadh uisgeachan Noah tuilleadh thar an talamh is amhuil a mhionnaich mi nach bithinn ann an corruich riut agus nach tugainn achmhasan duit. Oir dealaichidh na sleibhtean ri am bunaitean agus atharraichear na beanntan as an aite, ach cha dealaich mo chaoimhneas riutsa agus cha-n atharraichear coimhcheangal mo shith, deir an Tighearn aig am bheil truas dhiot.”

Cha-n ‘eil ni anns a’ chruitheachd cho maoth no anmhunn ri comh-fhulangas na Morachd. Ged a bhiodh na tha de chomh-fhulangas anns an t-saoghal air a thional ann an aon cha. bhiodh e ach mar bhoinne anns a’ chuan an coimeas ri comh-fhulangas na Morachd. “Mar a ta na neamhan ard os ceann na talmhainn mar sin tha a throcair mor d’ an taobh-san d’an egal E. O mo chairdean, is uamhasach an ni a bhi ‘beantuinn ri-san a chuir an Tighearn air leth air a shon fein. Cha bhuair an diabhul aon diubh nach ‘eil ceartas a’ cur drap eile feirge ‘na chup air a shon.

Is eagalach do’n t-saoghal anam grasmhor a’ dol gu caithir-grais air a bhruthadh leis. Cha-n ‘eil e ‘faighinn drap ann an sud nach eil ‘na dhearbhadh air a’ chomh-fhulangas a th’ ann an Dia, Is aithne do’n Chruithear an t-aite anns an t-saoghal agus is aithne dha mar a tha an saoghal ‘g am fuathachadh. Is aithne dha na cunnartan o na tha annta fein mar is aithne dha na cunnartan o’n leth a mach. ‘Nuair a bhios sin air ‘fhosgladh bidh e ‘na iongantas do na neamhan. Tha amannan anns am bi a churam na’s ro mho air ‘fhoillseachadh no air uairibh eile. Faiceadh parant a leanabh os cionn an teine agus bidh a dha laimh timchioll air. Biodh aon de chloinn Chriosd air bruachan na h-an-earbsa agus bidh da laimh an Tighearna timchioll air an sin. Biodh aon air a bhriseadh le buairidhean spioradail agus cha b’ fhada gus am fasadh athair agus mathair sgith dheth agus dh’ iarradh iad e bhi san uaigh ach ann an sin seasaidh comh-fhulangas an Tighearna.

Is chan e sin a mhàin, ach gabh beachd air cul-sleamhn-aichidhean a’ chreutair; mur biodh gu’m bheil cuan neochriochnach de chomh-fhulangas ann an Dia bheireadh E thairis e. Tha aon anam grasmhor a’ cosd na’s mo na neamh agus talamh. Tha an Cruithear a’ riaghladh anns an t-saoghal. Tha muinntir an t-saoghal air slabhruidh aige. Aon mhodhalachd a th’ agad-sa ‘s e ‘th’ ann slabhruidh a th’ aig Criosd ort. Ach is iongantach sin, anam grasmhor nach comasach cur an aghaidh smuain pheacach no miann pheacach no sealladh sula gun chosd ur o Dia. Dh’ earb an Cruithear slainte an anama ris an duine fein an toiseach, ach chaill an duine sin; agus nis cha-n earb E i ri aon a’s lugha na E fein. Is iongantach sin an creutair a’ tighinn gu bhi an crochadh air an Tighearn airson a h-uile ni. An deigh sin uile cha-n ‘eil an Tighearn a’ saoilsinn gu’m bheil E ‘caitheamh cus riu. An deigh a h-uile ni a tha E a’ caitheamh riu cha-n ‘eil E fein ni’s bochda. Faic a’ ghrian an deigh na thug i de sholus o thoiseach an t-saoghal tha i cho lan soluis ‘s a bha i. Mar sin tha an Tighearn d’a shluagh; ‘s e sin pairt de shonas clann Chriosd; ach cha leig e leo bhi ‘ga chaitheamh air am miannan. Is bochd an creutair ‘nuair a gheibh e an drap mu dheireadh de’n uisge fhuar anns an t-saoghal, a bhios a shonas seachad airson na siorruidheachd.

Tha còir aig a’ Chruithear a chlann a smachdachadh. Smachdaichidh E an saoghal ann an ifrinn airson am peacanna. Foghnaidh ifrinn doibh airson a h-uile peacaidh de’n robh iad ciontach, airson an uile ghniomharan. Ach tha coir aig an Tighearn mar athair a chlann a smachdachadh. “Is sibhse a mhain air an do ghabh mi eolas de uile theaghlaichean na talmhainn; uime sin smachdaichidh mi sibh airson ‘ur n-uile lochdan.” “Ach ma tha sibh as eugmhais smachdachaidh d’am bheil na h-uile ‘nan luchd-comhpairt, an sin is clann diolan sibh agus cha chlann dligheach.” O, tha moran de chloinn diolain nach smachdaich Dia airson briseadh Sabaid no ni air bith. Is leor ifrinn doibh. Ach tha còir athar aig air a chlann a smachdachadh cho cinnteach ‘s a tha

còir Cruitheir. Feudaidh sin a radh gu’n d’thug an t-anam grasmhor fein le ‘uile chridhe còir dha air a smachdachadh. Ma tha tarruing nan gras air d’ anam-sa, chaidh d’ urnuigh stigh an lathair na caithreach gu’n deanadh E am peacadh searbh dhuit, ciod air bith meadhon a ghabhadh E gu a dheanamh mar sin; agus ‘s e Spiorad Naomh nan gras a ghin an urnuigh sin anns an anam. Cha bhi ni tuilleadh a thig air an anam gu là a bhàis nach bi a’ freagairt na h-urnuigh sin. Tha an urnuigh sin a’ cordadh ris an rùn shiorruidh.

(Ri leantuin.)

Trials and their Fruits.

A LETTER BY WILLIAM HUNTINGTON, S.S., LONDON.

WINCHESTER ROW, February 18th, 1786.

MY invaluable friend, Mr. C., brought your letter to me, which I was glad to receive; and its contents afforded an humbling cordial to my soul.

I can follow you, sir, through all the courts, laws, and pleas of corrupt nature; through all the flatteries, insinuations, fair pretences, and false promises of inbred corruption; through all the courts of carnal reason, conscience, equity, and judicature, and describe the various bills and witnesses found in them all against the poor sensible sinner. The intricate windings and labyrinths of mysterious providence, and all the strange operations, changes, cutting discipline, comforts, promises, sweet thoughts, and the blessed sensations of special grace have been the establishment of my faith and the daily employment of my mind. And after all these changes, trials, disappointments, arraignments, and condemnations, what has it done? Why, it has drove me from the vanities of the world, the pleasures of sin, the religion of nature, the confidence of the flesh, and from all hope of happiness in the things of the world. And the sweet advantage that God has taken of all my trials is, that He has appeared my advocate in every trial, my fulness in disappointment, my portion in poverty, my confidence in adversity, and my refuge in every storm of persecution. His frowns have raised a godly fear in my heart; His absence has set me to self-examination and taught me to watch his footsteps more narrowly, inquire after him more earnestly, and to prize his presence more highly. Trials, sir, are intended to cripple the old man of sin; the crown of pride is sure to get a blow in every fight of faith; the death of pride is the life of humility, and real honour follows upon it. I am sure that we are gainers by every trouble; more fruit to God’s honour is brought forth after the branch is purged, and more peaceable fruits of righteousness are felt in the heart of those who are exercised thereby.

I have often with a wondering heart and weeping eyes reflected on the tender care and regard that God has shown on my behalf;

how forcibly He withstands us when we are going wrong; how this little book or that, this, or that promise has been put into my hand, or dropped into my heart, to overset the arguments of erroneous men. When I have put too much confidence in an arm of flesh, my jealous God and Father has caused for the least offence such a prop to give way, and leave my unstable soul sinking and staggering till I was convinced of my folly, and went back again to my immutable friend. When any secret sin has gained ground in my affections, a private rod, or a certain text of Scripture, has been forcibly applied, and some humbling thoughts and sharp struggles have produced an abhorrence of it, and afterwards my soul has appeared as a bird let out of a cage.

When I have been indulged with private access to God in prayer, and with much freedom in the pulpit I have often been lifted up with a vain conceit of my self-sufficiency; but then I have been left to stand in my own strength for a time or two in the pulpit, and the inattention of the hearers and my own confusion have been quite sufficient to mortify my pride and bring that Babel building down.

When the approbation and popular applause of a number of God’s children have lifted me up, a few scandalous reports and reproaches from another quarter have been sufficient to make me loath such light food. And when I have been in the company of carnal men about my lawful business, and while I have sat and taken notice of their shining parts and graceless hearts, I have been brought humbly to reflect on what discriminating grace has done for me.

When some sin has been committed, and guilt and shame have risen to stop up the intercourse between God and my soul, the application of a favourable text or a secret reflection on past mercies has humbled and melted my soul, and both pardon and peace have been felt before my knees have been bowed. Thus, the sounding of God’s bowels has sweetly dissolved my heart. When I have been going to preach with a dark mind and a barren heart, and kept in suspense till within a few minutes of preaching-time, just as expectation began to fail, a text has occurred, and I have begun with a single ray, and preached till my heart was all on a blaze; then light has been sown for the righteous and gladness for the upright in heart. Thus the poor servant went up to the passover alone, and about the midst of the feast Jesus went up and taught. I have murmured at the thought of beginning without Him, and doubted of His company at the banquet, but the Lord must be waited on, and His time waited for as it is written, “My time is not yet come, but your time is always ready.” Thus I have showed, my dear friend, how I go on in the world, and though my path lies between evil report and good report, yet under the management of infinite wisdom I hope to gain by trading. A watchful eye is a necessary attendant on prayer and a blessed handmaid to faith. The Lord

favour thee with it, is the prayer and desire of one, who in the bonds of love desires to subscribe himself.—Your willing servant in Christ. W. H.

Emilia Geddie.