BY THE REV. M. MORRISON, LOCHINVER.
DEAR MR. EDITOR,—The great European War, without comparison in history, is now drawing nigh the end of a three years’ course, and it is still raging with undiminished intensity. The magnitude which it has now assumed, we venture to say, could hardly have been foreseen by any man living at its beginning. We are inured so much to war conditions and to its dreadful results that, instead of becoming more softened and subdued under the world-wide calamity, we are growing more hardened and defiant of the divine chastening. We fear that the prevailing spirit to which these conditions and results have given birth is not at all of the kind which leads to an acknowledgment of the claims of the God of heaven as Governor of the Nations; rather does it savour of the opposite. The awful conflict, notwithstanding that it continues to make exhausting demands on the manhood, finance and industry of the nation, has no sobering effect, does not bring us to our knees before God, or make us look to Him as our sufficient help and source of deliverance from this fearful carnage and bloodshed. We trust wholly in our own councils, wisdom, and strength, and, consequently, we suffer disappointment in the comparatively little progress made and in the much-desired victory being so long delayed. And for what measure of success we have lately achieved we should express our sincere gratitude not only to our brave countrymen who suffer and die, but to the good hand of God who, in His providence, made it possible. Still our sins, ingratitude, hardness of heart, persistence in ignoring His claims and defying His authority individually and as a nation, highly provoke the Majesty of heaven and therefore His avenging sword does not abate its deadly work.
That our Government should have given orders in the early spring to the subjects of the realm to make use of the Lord’s Day equally with the other days of the week in ploughing and sowing the land does not presage an early victory to our arms; does not assure to us immunity from the threatened shortage of food which, in the view of those responsible, was considered a sufficient justification for so glaring a violation of the moral law. The Lord has in all time strictly prohibited manual labour on the holy day of rest, and no condition or circumstance of an individual or a nation except what strictly comes within the category of works of necessity and mercy, which does not exist in the present case, can justify its infringement. Men may use what flimsy and empty arguments they please to justify themselves in their own eyes, but they cannot do this before the eye of a holy and jealous God, and the obligation, “Remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy, six days shalt thou labour and do all thy work,” etc., is as binding on the individual and the nation now while in a state of war as on both in any former time and in any given circumstance. The criminal refusal to acknowledge and to observe it as divinely enjoined is bound to be followed with divine retribution in forms which morally and materially will nullify the gain which it was intended to reap by its impious violation. It is, indeed, observable already that the past three weeks have been of such a wintry nature that hardly any work on the land was able to be done, and, not within living memory, have we had such continued snow and frost as we have experienced since the issue of this novel command. Though all the Sabbaths in spring time could have been used up in tillage, they would not compensate in what would be overtaken of agricultural work for the loss sustained by enforced idleness during two or three weeks of ordinary working days through unpropitious weather and seasons which are wholly at the disposal of Him whose law, “Remember the Sabbath-day,” is as obligatory on His creatures as, “Thou shalt not kill,” “Thou shalt not steal,” etc., or any of the Ten Commandments.
I trust your readers may excuse me for making this digression from the main subject of my report. But those who feel grieved in the land at the dishonour done to the Divine Majesty by the way His claims are belittled and made light of, no less than by the way His name is blasphemed and vilified, in connection with the present-day events of history, find relief to their sorrow by at least lifting their voice against it. “Cry aloud; spare not; tell my people their sins.” We feel keenly for our sailors and soldiers who lay down their lives on the altar of their country’s safety, when we think of the religious character of those who constitute the nation and Government behind them. Had we a Moses in the State and a Barak or a Gideon in the field, their hands would be held up by the Lord condescending to hear the prayers of those to whom the Lord gave the spirit of prayer, as to Deborah, the prophetess in Israel, and the hosts of Sisera with his chariots would fall into confusion and the hosts of the Midianites would take to flight. The present-day rulers will not condescend to hear what the word of the Lord is, through His servants, the prophets, or through His faithful ministers. No counsel is asked at the mouth of the Lord. His being, His government, His providence, and His grace are unblushingly denied, and this is the notion which permeates through all the God-dishonouring and God-defying schemes formulated by those in authority. So by tracing this up to its original source, what we find it to emanate from is atheism and infidelity and idolatry. These are the cankers which are gnawing at the vitals of the nation and which are consuming it fast. The existence of the Eternal One is becoming a mere idea or a mere theory in the estimation of the individual and the nation. We might, therefore, look for times of incalculable hardships, privations, and tribulations, such as have not been yet but in a small measure felt or realized.
This has been my second visit to England in connection with supplying divine ordinances to our naval men. A number of the brethren have already given more than one term of two months of service. When I was there the first time I then little expected to have to answer a second call. But as the Church has maintained the continuity of supply without interruption, I may say, since the War began, and as the second appeal which came to me was very urgent, I consented to go this time also. I had misgivings, as I had on the former occasion, in going, but I have to say that this last time I felt happier in my public work and quite enjoyed it. The weather, indeed, at the time was very cold and unpropitious to travelling. The facilities also for travelling are very much curtailed. But what most of all impressed me as emphasising the difference in the outward aspect of things in general, between my former and latter visit, was this—that now the effects of the War in every conceivable direction, in every branch of business, and in every department of life, are felt forty times more. The severity of the strain, exaction, and pressure which the War entails on young and old, on rich and poor, on male and female, is evermore increasing, is evermore exhausting and absorbing.
My first Sabbath, which was the third Sabbath of January, was in Chatham. Conditions there had somewhat changed since I was there before. The men, for instance, except one or two, were entirely new to me. The most of them were young men who, probably living carelessly and without God at their homes, came, as they attained the age, within the sweep of military compulsory measures, and chose the Navy before the Army. All Highlanders who are free on the Sabbath, and within the Barracks grounds are, by parade, that is to say, the morning service, bound to attend whether they will or not, and we may charitably suppose that there were none of them who wilfully would refuse to attend, had they full choice. What all men at all times, of all sorts and conditions stand in need of is the Gospel, which is the power of God unto salvation. No greater and more inestimable privilege can a sinner of the race enjoy than the hearing of the truth of God wherein Christ with all the benefits of the covenant of grace is offered to the greatest criminal, to the most guilty sinner. It has always proved, and still proves, in every case in which it takes effect to be the only source of permanent consolation to the grieved, the broken and the ruined, the only well-spring of life to the dead, of refreshment to the weary, of comfort and happiness in the immediate prospects of death and eternity. The message which conveys, as in a vehicle, such balm and remedies to a sinful, broken, oppressed and ruined world—a world which is deluged by the numberless streams which, bringing in their sweep suffering and death to our fallen race, flow from the fountain of original sin, of original apostasy from God—of such a blessed message no one should be ashamed. Why? Because, in the words of the Apostle, it is the power of God unto salvation—to the Jew first, and then to the Gentile.
The number attending the Services there were on an average at parade between forty and sixty. The Service was from 10.15 a.m. to 11.30 or 11.45 a.m. So a good measure of time is allowed us at the official Service. The evenings, of course, were not so well attended. The time of the year, to which I have already referred, was exceedingly cold, and many of the poor lads, owing to their thin clad navy blue attire, by which they were so much exposed, contracted colds, and often I could not hear my own voice while speaking. As the former deputies were, so was I admitted as an honorary member of the Officers’ Mess. Among the officers and men we met with nothing but kindness and courtesy, and our sympathies went out to them in the secret recess of our soul as we viewed them, as men who might be called on at any moment to face the solemn reality of death, and, as we considered them as the brave defenders of our liberties, properties and lives from a ruthless and bloodthirsty enemy. I gave in all four Sabbaths to Chatham.
Portsmouth claimed every alternate Sabbath, so that I was also able to give in all four Sabbaths to the latter. In this great naval port, humming day and night, week day and Sabbath, sad to say, with noise and activity, we had nearly double the number we had in Chatham. A hall in the Royal Sailors’ Rest, placed some time ago at the disposal of our deputies by that venerable and Christian lady, Miss Agnes Weston, is very suitable, as it is more or less half-way between the contingents from the Barracks and the contingents from the Whale Island, and those from Haslar or other places in the port where men are stationed for defence. This excellent lady takes a great interest in the wellbeing—moral, social, and spiritual—of the naval sailor. This great institution, which she was mainly instrumental in erecting, is a great rendezvous of naval seamen, petty officers and men. A description of this huge place was already given by former deputies, and I need not say more. Here also the men were almost all new. New recruits come in every day from all parts of the kingdom, and accommodation for the first night is but poor and uninviting, but the young men know beforehand that they have to rough it, that they have, in fact, to endure hardships as sailors for their King and Country.
We should acknowledge our grateful thanks to Miss Weston for the practical form which her kindly interest in our mission to the naval men, as in all beneficent efforts put forth on behalf of the sailors of the King, dictated, in that she gave the handsome contribution of £10. Many are the temptations to which young men leaving their hearth and parental roof for the first time are exposed while coming into contact with all kinds of views, all sorts of men, and evil practices. May the Lord uphold and preserve them, and instead of going astray, may they be led to Himself as a safe refuge in the time of trouble and distress! Miss Weston gave to me, as to the former deputies, the use of a cabin or a room during the week-ends—I was there free of charge—and invited me several times to dine with her. So I met with great kindness in this place also.
I visited the hospitals at Haslar and at Gillingham, and I was pleased to learn that only one in each hospital was somewhat seriously ill at the time. They were from Lewis. I trust that they have now recovered, or on the good way to it.
I stayed with Mr. Malcolm McEwan, whose company I enjoyed.
—Yours, etc., M. MORRISON.
It is recorded of a pious lady who, hearing of the death of her two sons in one day (and that in such a way as would make the ears of them that should hear tingle), uttered these words: “I see God will leave me nothing to love but Himself.” God takes that from our love which would take our love from Him—God parts that and us which would part us and Him. When God leaves us with little to love, it is that our love may cleave much to Him.
WHY was the Bread of Life hungry, but that He might feed the hungry with the bread of life? Why was Rest itself weary, but to give the weary rest? Why was the Prince of Peace in trouble, but that the troubled might have peace? None but the Image of God could restore us to God’s image. None but the Prince of Peace could bring the God of peace, and the peace of God, to poor sinners.—Dyer.
The late Mr. Murdo Macleod, Missionary, Stoer.
BY the death of Mr. Murdo Macleod, Achnacarnin, Stoer, there has been removed from the Highlands one of the most eminent of “the men.” The late David Ross, of Dornoch, an unblameable and worthy Christian, when contrasting the religious conditions of the Sutherlandshire of his boyhood with those of the county in his old age, used to exclaim with a sigh, “He turned a fruitful land into barrenness for the wickedness of them that dwell therein.” Straths and glens in the past were full of the blessing of the Lord. There was scarcely a house but in which a child of God could be found. Alas! the scene is changed. The clusters of sapful Christians have been gathered. The “gleaning-grapes,” which are left, are being taken one by one. The more conspicuous the position, the more observable the removal.
Such was that of Murdo Macleod. He was the son of the Lord’s handmaid whose heart religion was coupled with godly practice. Obstacles that might be regarded by many as a plea for neglecting religious exercises were surmounted by her. When she went to private prayer, she took her youngest child with her. And as Murdo had a distinct recollection of kneeling under his mother’s arm while she prayed, she must have continued that commendable practice for several years. We can only conclude that Murdo was the son of many prayers—prayers which were answered in due time.
In boyhood he had the desire to be “good.” And on the hills, in the fields, behind dykes and in bed he prayed God to make him good. He was, however, conscious that no change was wrought in him. Sin was abounding. His zeal began to flag, and eventually prayer was abandoned. He then became mirthful and venturesome, and had to record several miraculous escapes he had from death as a result. Yet he continued his boyish escapades. Occasionally he found the desire to be good returning. When he heard the Rev. Archibald Cook, of Daviot, preach, he imagined he would secure that which he coveted, were he constantly in Mr. Cook’s company; and, as he listened to Dr. Kennedy, he was possessed of such a feeling that he would have given the whole world to be good. The time was not yet, however. When Murdo was ten years old his father died, but family worship was continued by his mother, who read the Scriptures, sung the praises of the Lord, and prayed fluently and unctuously with tears flowing from a heart melted by the love of her dear Saviour. Yet Murdo, astonished at his mother’s liberty and tears, remained unconscious of his sins.
His pious mother entered into her eternal rest when Murdo was sixteen years of age. Soon after her demise he became restless, owing to an accusing conscience. Terror-stricken and alarmed at what he had done against God, daily his supreme concern was how to get peace. Notwithstanding his striving after it, he felt himself far from it. His fear was that he would never obtain forgiveness, believing himself too great a sinner and living too long in sin. “Had I,” he said, “diligently continued to seek after that which is good, as I did in my early boyhood, I would have arrived at what I hoped for. Now it is too late.” When perplexed with the reasonings “too great a sinner,” “too long in sin,” and “now too late,” there was the added fear lest he had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost. He tried various experiments seeking relief to his comfortless soul, but without success. At Culag, Lochinver, where he resided for a time, it occurred to him that, if he went up the hill, near the mill of Culag, to pray, he would obtain peace. Frequently he did so, but always returned convinced, as was Alisdair Og of Edderton in his combat with “self,” that he did not gain the victory. Fighting battles, in his own strength, with sin and Satan, and conscious that he was losing ground, he became so weak in body and mind that he had to give up his business at Culag and return to Achnacarnin. One morning at the family worship he read the opening verses of the 69th Psalm, and was deeply impressed with the similarity of his experience to that of the Psalmist: surrounded by his sins, sinking in the mire where there was no standing, wearied of his crying, his throat dried and his eyes failing. He began to sing those verses, meditating as he sang on the perfect expression given to what he felt, but could not proceed, as his emotions sought an outlet. He wept aloud. He was vexed that he did not restrain his crying, because he did not wish anyone to know how ashamed and troubled he was for his sins. He tried to attend to temporal duties, but had no will for them. All the gold and silver in the world could not give him satisfaction. He regarded this lack of interest in lawful things as an evidence that the Day of Reckoning was at hand. Being convinced that such would to him be a great loss, he was deeply concerned. His weary and worn spirit was still without rest. The imaginary Christ, whom he expected to intercede with God on his behalf because of his efforts, vanished as his convictions advanced. The vows he frequently made of resisting sin were repeatedly broken, until at last these broken vows only intensified the distress of his soul. He believed God was Just, and that he stood guilty before that God, justly deserving punishment for his sins; but how to be saved, he knew not. It was for him a time of trouble. Wearisome were the nights, and he longed for the morning, saying, “When shall I arise and the night be gone?” After a night of tossing to and fro, he rose early one summer morning, and went out to the fields. He lay on the ground, sorely pained in spirit, for the remembrance of the holiness of God troubled him as he was conscious of his pollution in the sight of God. Rising, he sought another spot, but still no calm for his tempest-tossed mind. He considered all things, even the sun, which shone brightly, were against him, and latterly resolved to go into the house, hoping he could sit still for a little. Just as he was entering the outer door, the Word of God came with marvellous light and power. The portions of Scripture were: “For this purpose the Son of God was manifested that he might destroy the works of the devil” (1 John iii. 8), and “He (Christ) condemned sin in the flesh” (Romans viii. 3). He immediately saw the Christ of God, and believed that He would destroy the works of the devil in him. And in believing he found rest. He did not experience great rejoicing like the stony-ground hearers, but, as he said, “I felt it taking deep root in me.”
After being taken from “the horrible pit and miry clay,” he expected to have a holy, happy life, but soon after discovered that “evil was present” with him. Satan began to molest him, and suggest that it was not the true Christ that was in the Bible, and that the Bible was not the Word of God, but the word of men. For several weeks he was in that blasphemous conflict. When he felt exhausted, the following truth, “There came such a voice to him from the excellent glory, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (2 Peter i. 17), came with such power that, like a high explosive shell, it shattered Satan’s stronghold. Never again had he a similar temptation, for he was fully convinced that it was the Christ of God he found, and that the Bible was the Word of God.
In the true Christian there is a burning passion to bring sinners to Christ, so that they may taste the liberty, love, and joy that are in Him. For example, Andrew, having found the Messiah, went and brought his brother to Jesus. So, likewise, Murdo Macleod had an insatiable desire to win souls for Christ. He told Alexander Kerr, Achmelvich, of his heart’s desire, but was advised to delay a little longer. Soon afterwards he was waited upon by a deputation, who enquired if he would conduct a meeting on Sabbath evenings. He would not consent until he had consulted Jean Morrison, of Clashmore, who advised him to comply with their request. Then he began to hold a “reading” on the Sabbath, and, although meeting with considerable opposition, he encouraged himself in the Lord and persevered in well-doing, and ultimately overcame this antagonism. In addition, he began to speak at the Fellowship Meeting on the Friday of Communion seasons. Yet fourteen years elapsed, after being converted, before he sat down at the Lord’s Table. It was at Torbreck Communion he communicated for the first time, along with Alexander Macrae and his brother John.
In the Free Church there arose unscrupulous majorities in her Courts who cared not for the Constitution of the Free Church of 1843. They, little by little, introduced what was alien to that Church, until ultimately the Declaratory Act was passed in 1892. That Act was “the immediate cause” of the Separation, in 1893, by the Rev. Donald Macfarlane of Raasay, now of Dingwall, and the late Rev. Donald Macdonald of Shieldaig, and others. When Murdo Macleod was informed by the late pious William Sutherland, Achmelvich, that the above-mentioned ministers were willing to hold services wherever they were invited to do so, they both decided to ask that a Communion should be held in Lochinver. Their request was granted. It was a time remembered by many. Murdo then decided to cast in his lot with the Free Presbyterians, and resolved to conduct services in the School, near where the Free Presbyterian Church is now situated. The services were well attended.
In July, 1894, he was asked to visit North Uist. There were difficulties in the way, but he feared, if he refused to go and declare the Gospel, that the Lord would be angry with him, and visit him with signs of His displeasure. So he went. He often spoke afterwards of the kindness and consideration shown him by the Uist Congregation. He stayed there for about ten months. On his return to Stoer, the congregation desired him to remain with them instead of going to North Uist again, and he consented to do so. With the exception of a few months, when he supplied several other congregations, he continued missionary for Stoer till he resigned in May, 1916, owing to physical weakness. Faithfully and diligently he laboured among the people of Stoer. He had a mind of no mean order, and spoke very clearly and logically when he expounded the Scriptures. The news of his resignation was a sincere grief to his friends.
His strength declined more rapidly since the time his late dutiful son, John Murdo, was called up to serve his King and Country. As his son was in delicate health, his parents and relations feared he would not endure the fatigue that such service entails. What they feared came to pass. They were informed that John Murdo was in Gosport Hospital. The anxiety of his parents increased, but they hoped against hope that they would see him again, and have the privilege of nursing him. The Lord ordered otherwise. At Glasgow, on his way home, the dear boy passed away. The shock to his expectant parents can be imagined, when the news was received that their son was no more. His father never rallied from the shock. He was frequently seen to weep. When asked why he wept, the invariable answer was, “For the wonderful way the Lord dealt with me and John Murdo.” When he was lying ill in Gosport Hospital, his father got the promise, “He shall call on me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him” (Psalm xci. 15). He believed it would be fulfilled. His son, in one of his letters from Gosport, wrote, “I have asked the Lord for three things. Two I have got. The third is long in coming.” This showed that he prayed, and the Lord answered. At Glasgow he said, “Death is a very good thing, when one is prepared to die.” When Murdo was mourning deeply for his son, he received consolation in the 3rd verse of the 22nd Psalm, “But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel.” He enjoyed much of the presence of the Lord in his sore affliction.
At last the subject of this sketch became so weak that he was confined to bed. He then repeatedly spoke of his last Communion. He felt, as he sat at the Lord’s Table, that Christ was absent. He prayed, saying, “Come, Lord.” In an instant the Lord manifested himself, and his soul was full and overflowing with the love of Christ. One day he feared Christ would leave him, and cried out, “Christ! Christ! don’t leave me.” His daughter (Nurse Macleod), who arrived from America, and had the privilege of nursing her father in his last illness, said, “The promise is, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” “That is right,” he replied, and lay down peacefully. He prayed for hours on his last Sabbath on earth, and on the 17th day of January, 1917, Murdo Macleod entered into the joy of his Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. He thought and spoke of Christ with a mind illuminated by the Holy Ghost, and he lived for Christ. He is now missed—missed by his devoted wife and dutiful family; missed by his pastor and congregation; missed by his friends and the Church. Though those mourn the loss, he is rejoicing in the Lord. “Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me; for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world.”
May the Lord behold and visit the vineyard he has planted among us! A. S.
The late Dr. William MacSwan, Deacon, St. Jude’s, Glasgow.
WILLIAM MacSwan was born and brought up in the Isle of Skye. In early youth he left home and came to reside in Glasgow. Like other young men his thoughts would naturally be occupied about his worldly prospects. The everlasting concerns of the soul are too often forgotten and neglected notwithstanding that every moment of time that passes brings eternity nearer. Too many pass this span of time without considering seriously where and how they are to be in eternity, or the fact that their conduct in this world will fix unchangeably their everlasting destiny. It was not so with young William MacSwan for long.
We are not able to say how he was led to consider his former ways, and to turn his feet unto God’s testimonies, but that he did so, was very evident to all who knew him. He became a member in full communion in Mains Street congregation in the year 1878. Two years later, he was elected deacon by that congregation, which office he accepted. He continued a deacon in it till 1893. This was a period in the history of the Free Church that caused searchings of heart on account of the infidel views held by a large majority of her ministers. Those who were her true sons and daughters were wounded exceedingly at seeing the inerrancy and infallibility of the Bible scouted within her pale, and a desperate effort made to change her Creed and Constitution. William MacSwan was one of her mourners. When in 1892 the Rationalistic party succeeded in passing the Declaratory Act as the future Creed of the Church, she ceased to be their Church any longer. So, when the Assembly of 1893 refused to rescind that Act, three elders, eleven deacons, and a considerable number of the Mains Street congregation separated their connection with that Rationalistic pseudo Free Church in order that they might maintain the existence of the original Free Church of Scotland. No one hailed this step with more heartiness than Mr. MacSwan.
These office-bearers did not resign their office in taking this step, for the good reason that they were firmly convinced that it was the only way left them by which they could perform their ordination obligations. Our friend held steadfastly, consistently, and unhesitatingly this conviction unto the end.
He was twice elected to the office of the eldership in St. Jude’s since 1893, but he could not be prevailed upon to accept the office. This was not on account of any lack of interest in the welfare of the congregation, nor of a sincere desire for the prosperity of the cause of Christ, but on account of his humble opinion of himself and of his own unsuitableness for such an office in the Church. But he continued to attend, with admirable faithfulness, to his duties as deacon until the condition of his health prevented his doing so.
This terrible war, which brought grief and loneliness to many a home in our nation, caused him many an anxious thought. His son Angus, whom he loved as his own soul, joined the Army. After a few months’ training he was sent to France, and was there in the front trenches. On the 18th of July last year he was posted as missing. This was a sore trial to his father and mother and all the family. The suspense continued during six weeks. At last word came from Angus to the effect that he was wounded and a prisoner in Germany. The day they heard from him, Mr. MacSwan came into the vestry, before the prayer meeting, to tell us the good news, that Angus was still alive. We remember well the expression of joy that lighted his face as he told us that word had come to the above effect. He added, “I hope we will see Angus again.”
About the beginning of October, we were told that William MacSwan was not in his usual health. We called next day to see him, and perceived at once that he had a slight shock. Its effect was noticeable more on his tongue than on any other part of his body. We pleaded with him to keep in his bed, which he did. The next time we saw him, he was considerably better. But the improvement did not continue, so that we felt a pang of grief when we saw that it was to all appearances the end. During the three months which he lived after the trouble appeared, he was gradually getting worse, though he suffered little or no pain. His speech was so affected that he could not be understood. But till three weeks before his end came, the family could understand his prayers while he held family worship. We have noticed more than once, that the Lord of His mercy enabled His people to speak to Himself after they lost the power of utterance to their fellow-men.
William MacSwan was a very warm-hearted and true friend. He was a man that could be trusted both as a friend and as a Christian. We miss him in many ways, but especially in the house of God. He never was absent, if he was in good health, either on the Sabbath day, or on the prayer meeting nights. He was truly a lover of the Sabbath, of God’s house, and of God’s people.
He departed this life to be for ever with the Lord on Saturday the 23rd day of December, and was buried on Tuesday following in Sighthill Cemetery.
To his mourning widow and children, especially to Angus, we desire to offer our deepest sympathy. They have lost a loving husband and father; we, a very sincere friend.
N. C.