BY THE REV. DONALD BEATON, WICK.
“THERE is scarcely a leaf in the Psalter which is not stained by some withered flower of the past. To gather some of these petals and read their meaning, as they fall thick from the pages, has been the purpose of this book. Vain must be the effort to recall to life persons or events divided from us by centuries of change. But as we read the familiar verses, the words bring before us, one by one, the hundreds of men and women, who, passing from tribulation into joy, have, in the language of the Psalms, conquered the terrors of death, proclaimed their faith, or risen to new effort and final victory.”
In these sentences, Mr. Prothero concludes his remarkable book, “The Psalms in Human Life.” It is a work that impresses one with a deep sense of the untold influence exercised by the Psalms on all the departments of human life. The author tells us that his purpose was “to collect together some of the countless instances in which the Psalms have guided, controlled, and sustained the lives of men and women in all ages of human history, and at all crises of their fate.” The result is a goodly volume of 415 pages, in which we find history and biography ransacked to yield their stores to meet the author’s purpose. The work at once supersedes all other works of the kind. The list of authorities and works referred to show how
1 “The Psalms in Human Life,” by Rowland E. Prothero, M.V.O. London; John Murray, 1904. Price, 10s 6d nett.
thoroughly the author went about his task; however, it must be admitted that anyone acquainted with the literature on the psalms will discover that there are a great number of volumes not cited in the above lists that might have been used with advantage. Another point that will be regarded as a defect by pious minds is what may be described as the Cave-Adullamite character of many of the personages whose utterances are recorded in these pages. Here, testimonies of William the Conqueror, Burns, Matthew Arnold, and Carlyle, and of other less known but somewhat questionable characters, are recorded with the saintly expressions of hunted Covenanter and persecuted Puritan, and the pious outpourings of consecrated hearts, such as Brainerd, Eliot, Martyn, and Duff. But then, this is the very purpose of the author, to gather from every source testimonies as to the place the Psalms had in shaping and moulding human character, or in bringing comfort to drooping spirits and hearts broken with the weight of this world’s sorrow. Discriminating readers will know how to use a book so catholic in its tone and so world-wide in the range of its vision, but it must be candidly admitted that it jars somewhat on our sense of historical justice to find Hildebrand compared with David. To compare the man who was the creator of the political papacy of the Middle Ages, and whose claims for ecclesiastical supremacy were founded largely upon the fabled Donation of Constantine and the forged Isidorian Decretals, with the man after God’s own heart, who, if he sinned, has embalmed the expression of his repentance in words which will never die, is carrying comparison beyond its legitimate sphere.
As has already been said, every department of human life and activity is represented; the great men of the earth are represented by such names as William the Conqueror, David I. of Scotland, Charles V., and Mary Queen of Scots; patriots by Sir William Wallace;1 statesmen and rulers by Cromwell, Hampden, Wilberforce, and Kruger; men of letters by Shakespeare, Bacon, Browning, Carlyle, and Tennyson; men of science by Pascal, Sir James Simpson, and Romanes; soldiers by Colonel Gardiner and Sir Henry Havelock. These names are scarcely a tithe of those referred to. Of course the great Reformers and religious writers are well represented. Perhaps to Scotsmen the most interesting chapter will be that dealing with the Covenanters, but to all interested in the great religious movements that have stirred the European nations or our own country the chapter dealing with the Reformers, the Huguenots, the Puritans, and the great revival in England in the 18th century, are enough to awaken in them a
1 “At the execution of William Wallace, the dying patriot found comfort in the Psalter, which had been the companion of his adventurous wanderings. . . . As he stood on the scaffold, in the midst of the instruments for his torture, he begged Lord Clifford to restore to him the Psalter which had been taken from him at his capture. The prayer was granted. Unable to hold the book in his chained hands, he asked a priest to keep it open for him, and, as he hung from the gallows, he continued to look on it with love and devotion.” (p. 99.)
profound sense of the usefulness of the Psalms in such movements. What the Psalms were to those holy men of God—Eliot, Brainerd, Carey, Martyn, Duff, and Livingstone—is told in the opening pages of the last chapter, and is as fascinating as any part of the book. It may be here stated that the author does not make it a point of showing what place the Psalms had in the worship of the Church. He incidentally touches on the subject, but the title of his book fully indicates the extent and the limits of his object.
When this article is headed “The Psalms in the Early History of the Church,” it is not intended to dwell on the place the Psalms had in the worship of the early Church (this has already been done in works that are readily accessible), but rather to the place given to the Psalms by those who were prominent teachers and preachers in the early ages of the Church. The second chapter of the “Psalms in Human Life” opens with these words:—”Though the influence of the Psalms has been confined to no age, no nation, no class, and no creed, there have been special periods when they have spoken with peculiar force. This has been particularly the case in times of persecution, when circumstances gave to the words an immediate personal application. Such a period was the infancy of Christianity. Secretly, under cover of night, or at early dawn, children cast out by their parents, slaves oppressed by their masters, citizens suspected by their neighbours, subjects proscribed by their rulers, gathered for prayer and praise in the catacombs of great cities, in workshops, or in the upper rooms of retired houses on the outskirts of towns. Of their religious services the Psalms formed a conspicuous part, and special Psalms were soon appropriated to particular occasions, such as the 73rd for the morning and the 141st for the evening worship. These little companies of wool-workers, cobblers, fullers, craftsmen and slaves—’the most vulgar and illiterate of mankind,’—with whom assembled a handful of persons of higher rank, centurions, government officials, and ladies of noble birth, met together in danger of their lives. . . . The language of the Psalms was ever on the lips of those who, in the early history of Christianity, suffered violent deaths for or in the faith.”
The peculiar reverence in which the Psalms were held may be gathered from the words of Ambrose:—”When other passages of Scripture are used in church the words are drowned in the noise of talking. But when the Psalter is read all are dumb.” And again—”Any one possessed of his five wits should blush with shame if he did not begin the day with a Psalm, since even the tiniest birds open and close the day with sweet songs of holy devotion.” And if further evidence was required Theodore, of Mopsuestia, readily furnishes it in the following words:—”Of other Scriptures most men know nothing. But the Psalms are repeated in private houses, in streets, and market places by those who have learned them by heart, and feel the soothing power of their divine melodies. What the Psalms were to Augustine, one
of the greatest doctors of the Christian Church, one may learn from his almost innumerable references to it in his “Confessions.” In that memorable struggle that ended so well for him he gives expression to the feelings of his heart in the words of the Psalms. “How long, O Lord, how long?” was his prayer to the God whom he was seeking. “How long wilt Thou be angry? Oh remember not our old sins.” (Ps. lxxxix. 5, 8.) When the great change came—a change that turned the whole current of his life—he found in the Psalms words well suited to give expression to a penitence that reveals how great were the depths to which the Holy Spirit led him ere he found that rest for which he panted with longing earnestness. “How, O God,” he says, “did I cry unto Thee as I read the Psalms of David, those hymns of faith and songs of devotion, which fill the heart against all swellings of pride. I was still but a novice in Thy true love, a beginner, keeping holiday in a country place with Alypius, like myself a catechumen, and with my mother—in garb indeed a woman, but in faith a man, in the tranquillity of age, full of a mother’s love and Christian devotion! How did I cry unto Thee in these Psalms! How did they kindle my heart towards Thee! How did I burn to rehearse them all over the world, if so I might abate the pride of man.” When his mother died, that mother who prayed with tears for his conversion, it was to the Psalms Augustine turned to find comfort in his sorrow. When the first gush of weeping was over, his friend Euodius took up the Psalter and began to sing, the whole household joining with him, Psalm ci., “My song shall be of mercy and judgment: unto Thee, O Lord, will I sing,” etc. (p. 18.) When his own hour of departure came, it was with his eyes fixed on the book of Psalms that he bade farewell to all earthly things. “It was a plain and barely furnished room, says Possidius, “in which he lay. The seven Penitential Psalms were, by his orders, written out, and placed where he could see them from his bed. These he looked at, and read in the days of his sickness, weeping often and sore.” It is interesting to learn that the Psalms were very precious to Athanasius, the great defender of the faith against the Arian heresy. His favourite Psalm was the 72nd. “Against all assaults upon thy body,” he says, “thine estate, thy soul, thy reputation, against all temptations, tribulations, plots, and slanderous reports, say this Psalm.”
Obituary Note.—We regret to intimate the death of Mr. Rod. Kennedy, Strone, Charranach, Lochcarron, Ross-shire. He departed this life on the 20th ult.
Memoir of Rev. D. Macdonald.—As already intimated, copies of the “Memoir and Remains of the Rev. D. Macdonald, Shieldaig,” are soon expected to be out. Subscribers are requested to send their orders at once to Rev. D. Macfarlane, F.P. Manse, Craig Road, Dingwall.
Searmon.
LEIS AN URR. ARCH. COOK, A BHA’N DEIMHIDH.
Iosua vii. 12.
CHA-N ‘eil am fasgadh is lugha anns an anam gun fhios do Shatan. B’ aithne dha gu maith ‘nuair a dh’ fhag an Tighearn anam Iob agus chi sinn anns an Taisbean gu’m bheil e sgriobhta, “tilgidh an diabhul cuid dhibh ann am priosan agus bidh amhghar agaibh.” ‘S e a’ mhuiintir a b’ iriosaile agus a bu naoimhe a bha mar so a’ fulang. ‘S iongantach na briathran sin, “agus dh’ amhairc mi agus cha robh Fear-cuidich ann agus b’ iongnadh leam nach robh Fear-taic ann, uine sin dh’ oibrich mo ghaireadan fein slainte,” Anns a h-uile linn ‘nuair a bha an Tighearn a’ fagail na h-eaglais bha e air a thoirt fainear gu’n robh E ‘dol a dh’ fhalbh. Bha e air a thoirt fainear gu’n robh E ‘gan toirt thairis do dh’ inntinn shaoghalta, do fhuirm na diadhachd agus do ardan spioradail; agus gu’n robh E ‘toirt air falbh nan creutairean a b’ anmhuinne am measg a shluaigh agus le sin bha E ag radh, “Cha bhi mise maille ribh tuilleadh mur sgrios sibh an ni mallaichte as ‘ur measg.”
Feudaidh an Tighearn an eaglais fhaicsinneach fhagail ged a bhiodh a phobull gaoil fhein aige ‘nam measg. Airson a lathair-eachd spioradail cha treig E am feasd a phobull, ach feudaidh E am fagail truagh ni’s leor. Feudaidh E spiorad na gleachd ris fein a tharruing o an anam. Is uamhasach na briathran ud a thubharrt E ris an fhaidh, “na guidh as leth an t-sluaigh so airson an leas.” Feudaidh E spiorad gleachd ris fein airson an aite a tharruing o an anam agus feudaidh E leigeil le spiorad na suaine tuiteam air an eaglais; “thuit thu o do cheud ghradh.” ‘Nuair a chuir an namhaid an cogal am measg a’ chruthneachd tha e air a radh gur ann ‘nuair a bha daoine ‘nan codal a chuir se e. ‘Nuair a chi sinn spiorad na suaine agus a’ chodail a’ tuiteam air muinn-tir feudaidh sinn a bhi ‘cluinntinn nam briathar sin. “cha bhi mise maille ribh tuilleadh mur sgrios sibh an ni mallaichte sin as ‘ur measg.” Cha-n ‘eil comharradh is mo air a’ bhreitheanas no air an Tighearn a bhi ‘falbh o ‘eaglais na spiorad na suaine. Feudaidh E spiorad an tagraidh a tharruing o pharant a leth a leinibh agus cha-n ‘eil comharradh a’s mo air ‘fheirg na sin. O mo chairdean, c’aithe an cluinn sinn an diugh iomradh air anam grasmhior a’ gal airson anaman? Ni iad urnuigh bheag, ach c’aithe am bheil spiorad na gleachd nach comasach a comhfhurtachadh as ‘easbhuidh fein? agus nach ‘eil sin ‘na choimharradh air E a bhi ‘tarruing air falbh o ‘shluagh fein?
Feudaidh an eaglais a bhi truagh ‘nuair a chi sinn spiorad aithreachail briste ‘ga fagail. Airson nadur an aithreachais cha-n fhag sin an t-anam fhad is a tha e anns an t-saoghal. Tha e ann an nadur grais. Ach feudaidh stad tighinn air a chleachdadadh agus
ma thig feudaidh sinn na briathran sin a thogail, “Ichabod, dh’ fhalbh a’ ghloir o Israel.” ‘S e spiorad briste aithreachail gloir na h-eaglais. Bha E fein de spiorad broin agus briste agus ciod a’ ghloir a tha cosmhuil ri muinntir a bhi air an cumadh ris fein? Tha cuid de chloinn Dhe aig am bheil an spiorad briste aithreachail so ‘nan anam. Tha an seann slighbhir air an cur fa’n comhair anns an uaigneas agus air an deanamh cho ùr dhoibh’s ‘nuair a bha iad ciontach dhiubh agus “amhaircidh iad airs an a lot iad agus ni iad caoidh air a shon.” Ach oh! na tuirmean tioram, fuirmean tioram! tha ni’s leor dhe sin againn. Ach o! nach bu phriseil bhi faicinn drap de’n aithreachas agus do chràdh airson peacaidh. ‘Nuair a chi sinn so a’ fagail an t-saoghail feudaidh sinn a bhi ‘gabhail eagail gu’m bheil an Tighearn a’ falbh o ‘eaglais agus ag radh, “cha bhi mise maille ribh tuilleadh mur sgrios sibh an ni mallaichte as ‘ur measg.” Tha sinn a’ toirt fainear ‘nuair a tha spiorad ceusda a’ fagail an anama cho ialsal ‘s a tha an gnothuch. Anns a h-uile linn ‘nuair a bha so anns an t-saoghail bha geur-leanmhuinnean ann, bha tultean de dhearbhaidhean ann. O mo chairdean, cha-n ‘eil spiorad saoghalta chum gloir Dhe. Ciod an t-ocras spioraid nach comasach bhi air a shasuchadh a tha an diugh ann an luchd aidich an deigh an t-saoghail? Ma ‘s e so ‘ur staid nach fheud sinn a bhi ‘gabhail eagail gu bheil an Tighearn gu ‘ur fagail? “Cha bhi mise maille ribh tuilleadh mur sgrios sibh an ni mallaichte as ur measg.”
Ach gu comhdhunadh aig an am so, bha sinn a’ labhairt air dol air falbh an Tighearna, agus tha eagal orm nach ‘eil sin fad o’n sgire so. ‘Nuair a chi mise mar a leumas creutairean a mach as an eaglais tha mi ‘gabhail eagail. Ach tha an la a’ tighinn anns am faigh sibh ‘ur toil fein. Bha sinn a’ labhairt air urnuigh. Cha-n ‘eil urnuigh le deoir aig nach ‘eil buaidh iongantach ann an gloir. Oh! nach e gaol Chriosd a bha mar theine ann a innigh o shiorruidheadh nach foisicheadh dealaichte o ‘eaglais?
Tha cuid ann agus ma tha triathran breagha aca anns an urnuigh cha chreid iad gu’m bheil iad gun Dia gus an toir na lasraichean siorruidh orra chreidsinn. Ach oh! cho beag ‘s a tha sin a’ cur a dh’ eagal air luchd-aidich. Suidhidh iad ann an socair. C’äite am faic thu deoir ann an eaglais? ‘Nuair a bha an Tighearn anns na meadhanon bha deoir, bha am bron, bha aithreachas. Ach a nis, is iongantach gu’m faicear aon a’ tighinn gu curam mu ‘anam, mu ‘shiorruidheadh. Am bu chomasach thu fein bhi ni bu lugha fo churam ged nach biodh anam agad? Tha curam anama nis cho tearc ‘s nan tigeadh aon gu curam gu’n abradh an saoghal gu’n robh e ‘dol as a chiall; agus cha-n e sin a mhain ach cho tearc ‘s a tha ‘tighinn a mach a’n teanntachdan ann an rathad gu’m bi iad ‘nan comhfhurtachd do’n eaglais. ‘S ann a chi thu iad ‘nam mill laidir nach bi chum mor chomhfhurtachd do’n eaglais.
Tha peacaidhean uamhasach a’ dol air aghaidh anns an t-saoghail agus sin anns na teaghlaichean is soilleire, agus ‘s math
dh’ fheudta ann an coimhthional anns am bheil drap de bheofianuis gur ann an sin a tha na tuiltean peacaidh a’ dordadh a mach. Theid am peacadh air aghairt air tus anns an uaigneas, cha tig e dh’ ionnsuidh an t-soluis ‘na thoiseach. Theagamh gu’m bheil thusa ciontach de striopachas anns an uaigneas, ach thoir an aire thig e dh’ ionnsuidh an fhollais. Tha e air a radh gur naire eadhon labhairt air na nithibh a ni daoine anns an uaigneas. Ach cumadh Dia tosdach agus cha-n fhada gus an tig thu gu peacachadh gu follaiseach. Cha dana le parant a leanabh a chronachadh agus ‘nuair a tha nithe air teachd gu so nach ‘eil e ‘na aobhar eagail gu’n d’ thubhairt E, “Cha bhi mise maille ribh tuilleadh mur sgrios sibh an ni mallaichte as ‘ur measg?”
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Is eagalach gu’m biodh aig neach air bith lamh ann an cràdh an Tighearna ann an doigh air bith o na meadhanan. Thusa, aig am bidh, cluinnidh tu fathasd na briathran sin, “Imichibh uam, a shluagh mhallaichte dh’ ionnsuidh an teine shiorruidh a dh’ ulluicheadh do’n diabhul agus d’a ainglibh.” Anam bhochd, na biodh lamh agad ann a chràdh.
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Tha creutairean bochd a tha ‘faicinn nach comasach iad ni a dheanamh ach a bhi ‘ga chràdh, ‘nan smuaintean ged a sguireadh iad dhe gniomhachadh, gidheadh tha an tobar anns an anam. Sibhse a tha anns an staid sin, innsibh sin do Chriosd; ‘se Criosd a chruthaicheas cridhe glan. Cha d’ fhuair E aon riamh ach aon aig an robh cridhe salach agus ‘s iomadh cridhe salach a rinn E glan. Sibhse a tha anns a’ chor sin meantraibh sibh fein air. Feudaidh Criosd a radh ri iomadh, “Cha d’iarr thu riamh ormsa do thearnadh, cha-n fhaca mi riamh deur air do shùil ag iarraidh trocair.” Tha cuid ann agus cha-n e a mhain gu bheil iad ‘ga chràdh uapa fein ach tha iad a’ deanamh na’s comasach iad gu a chràdh o muinntir eile. Tha daoine agus mnathan ann agus cha labhair iad focal mu Chriosd ach talamh, talamh, talamh. “Cha bhi mise maille ribh tuilleadh mur sgrios sibh an ni mallaichte as ‘ur measg.”
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Am biodh tu toileach thu fein a bhi air do thearnadh? Am biodh tu naraichte bhi air do thearnadh a’ d’ aonar? Am bheil thu ‘creidsinn nach teid ni de’n chruas sin a stigh a shealbhachadh rioghachd Dhe? Ach oh! c’aité am bheil a’ ghal airson anaman?
Am Fear-Deirce
LE IAIN NEWTON (eadar-theangaichte).
A’ gabhail misnich mhoir
O do ghealladh do na bochdaibh,
Feuch deirceach, Righ na gloir,
A’ feitheamh aig do dhorsaibh;
Do lamh, do chridhe fein a mhain
Ni cabhair ann a leithid de chàs.
An tagradh ‘chluinnear tric
Aig baigearan an t saoghail
Cha n fhiu leat gabhail ris
O h aon de chloinn nan daoine ;
‘S do’n tagradh ris an eisd Thu fein
Cha tugadh clann nan daoine speis.
Cha bhuin e dhomh bhi ‘g radh,
Ged tha mi nis tur-fhalamh,
Gidheadh gu’n robb an la
Bu shaoibhir mi air thalamh ;
Tha sar-fhios agad o mo bhreith
Nach robb ‘bu bhochd na mi am bith.
Cha dàna leam ni’s mo,
Mar their am baigear bitheant’,
A radh, ged mor mo leon,
Gur ionnan sin mo neo-chiont ;
Ged chlaoidheadh cion-bidh m’anam bochd
Cha-n fhaighinn ach na thoill m’ lochd.
Bu ghorach dhomh a radh,
Nach d’arr mi deirc ort roimhe,
‘S ma bheir Thu rud an tra-s’,
Nach cuir mi dragh ort tuilleadh ;
‘S minic a chuidich Thu le m’ chruas,
‘S is tric a thig orm tighinn as ùr.
‘S ro mhaith an spruileach fein
Airson mo leithid de mhadadh,
Ach lionadh dhomh a’m’ fheum
Cha toir ach biadh na cloinne ;
An gruaim na iarr orm imeachd uait,
‘S mi ‘m feum an dearbh ni dh’ ulluich Thu.
‘S cha-n urrainn mi bhi reidh
Ri cleith ro-mheud do mhaithheis
O thruaghain mar mi fein
‘Nan eigin leis an acras ;
Ach innseam dhoibh mu lan do stòir,
Ach an tig na miltean ‘nad choir.
Ceart mar tha neamh nan speur
Os cionn an t-saoghail againn,
Do smuaintean glic gu leir
Do ‘r n-inntinn tha do-bhreithnicht’;
Ris an tagradh-s’ clann nan daoin’ cha-n eisd,
Ach eisdidh Dia ri fear na deirc.