BY THE REV. PROF. WARFIELD, PRINCETON, U.S.A.
II.
(Continued from page 182.)
An equally instructive allusion to the Decalogue meets us in Paul’s letter to the Romans. Paul is dwelling on one of his favourite themes—love as the fulfilment of the law. “He who loveth his neighbour,” he says, “hath fulfilled the law.” For, all the precepts of the law—he is thinking here only of our duties to our fellow-men—are summed up in the one commandment, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” To illustrate this proposition he enumerates some of the relevant precepts. They are taken from the second table of the Decalogue: “Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not kill, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not covet.” Clearly the Ten Commandments stand in Paul’s mind as a summary of the fundamental principles of essential morality, and are, as such, of eternal validity. When he declares that love is the fulfilment of these precepts, he does not mean, of course, that love supersedes them, so that we may content ourselves with loving our neighbour and not concern ourselves at all with the details of our conduct towards him. What he means is the precise contrary of this: that he who loves his neighbour has within him a spring of right conduct towards his neighbour, which will make him solicitous to fulfil all his duties to him. Love does not abrogate but fulfils the law.
Paul was not the originator of this view of the relation of love to the law. Of his Master before him we read: “And He said . . . Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hangein the whole law, and the prophets.” That is to say, all the precepts of the law are but the development in detail, in the form of announced obligations, of the natural workings of love towards God and man. The two tables of the Decalogue are clearly in mind as respectively summed up in these two great commandments. And the meaning is, again, not that love to God and man supersedes the duties enumerated in these two tables, but that it urges prevailingly to their punctual and complete fulfilment. As loving our fellow-men does not so fulfil all our duty towards them that, loving them, we are free to rob and murder them; so loving God does not so fulfil our whole duty to Him that, loving Him, we are free to insult His name or deny Him the time necessary for His service. Love, again, means not the abrogation but the fulfilment of the law.
It cannot be necessary to multiply examples. Nothing could be clearer than that the Ten Commandments are treated by our Lord and the writers of the New Testament as the embodiment, in a form suited to commend them to Israel, of the fundamental elements of essential morality, authoritative for all time, and valid in all the circumstances of life. All the references made to them have as their tendency, not to discredit them, but to cleanse them from the obscuring accretions of years of more or less uncomprehending and unspiritual tradition, and penetrating to their core, to throw up into high light their purest ethical content. Observe how our Lord deals with the two commandments, Thou shalt not kill, Thou shalt not commit adultery, in the passage near the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, to which we have already had occasion to allude. Everything external and mechanical in the customary application of these commandments is at once swept away; the central moral principle is seized with firmness: and this central moral principle is developed without hesitation into its uttermost manifestation. Murder, for example, is discovered in principle already in anger; and not in anger only, but even in harsh language. Adultery, in the vagrant impulses of the mind and senses: and in every approach to levity in the treatment of the marriage tie. There is no question here of abrogating these commandments, or of limiting their application. One might say rather that their applications are immensely extended, though “extended” is not quite the right word: say rather, deepened. They seem somehow to be enriched and ennobled in our Lord’s hands, made more valuable and fecund, increased in beauty and splendour. Nothing really has happened to them. But our eyes have been opened to see them as they are, purely ethical precepts, declaring fundamental duties, and declaring them with that clean absoluteness which covers all the ground.
We have no such formal commentary from our Lord’s lips on the Fourth Commandment. But we have the commentary of His life; and that is quite as illuminating and to the same deepening and ennobling effect. There was no commandment which had been more overlaid in the later Jewish practice with mechanical incrustations. Our Lord was compelled, in the mere process of living, to break His way through these, and to uncover to the sight of man ever more and more clearly the real law of the Sabbath—that Sabbath which was ordained of God, and of which He, the Son of Man, is Lord. Thus we have from Him a series of crisp declarations, called out as occasion arose, the effect of which in the mass is to give us a comment on this commandment altogether similar in character to the more formal expositions of the Sixth and Seventh Commandments. Among these such a one as this stands out with great emphasis: “It is lawful to do good on the Sabbath Day.” And this will lead us naturally to this broad proclamation: “My Father worketh even until now, and I work.” Obviously, the Sabbath, in our Lord’s view, was not a day of sheer idleness; inactivity was not its mark. Inactivity was not the mark of God’s Sabbath, when He rested from the works which He creatively made. Up to this very moment He has been working continuously; and, imitating Him, our Sabbath is also to be filled with work. God rested, not because He was weary, or needed an intermission in His labours; but because He had completed the task He had set for Himself (we speak as a man), and had completed it well. “And God finished His work which He had made”; “and God saw everything that He had made, and behold it was very good.” He was now ready to turn to other work. And we, like Him, are to do our appointed work—”Six days shalt thou labour and do all thy work”—and then, laying it well aside, turn to another task. It is not work as such, but our own work, from which we are to cease on the Sabbath. “Six days shalt thou labour and do all thy work,” says the commandment; or, as Isaiah puts it: “If thou turn thy foot from the Sabbath—” (that is, from trampling it down) “from doing thy pleasure on my holy day” (that is the way we trample it down); and “call the Sabbath a delight, and the holy (day) of the Lord honourable; and shalt honour him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words; then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord; and I will make thee to ride upon the high places of the earth; and I will feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.” In one word, the Sabbath is the Lord’s Day, not ours; and on it is to be done the Lord’s work, not ours; and that is our “rest.” As Bishop Westcott, commenting on the saying of the Lord’s which is at the moment in our mind,
put it, perhaps not with perfect exactness but with substantial truth: “man’s true rest is not a rest from human, earthly labour, but a rest for divine heavenly labour.” Rest is not the true essence of the Sabbath, nor the end of its institution; it is the means to a further end, which constitutes the real Sabbath “rest.” We are to rest from our own things that we may give ourselves to the things of God.
The Sabbath came out of Christ’s hands, we see then, not despoiled of any of its authority or robbed of any of its glory, but rather enhanced in both authority and glory. Like the other commandments, it was cleansed of all that was local or temporary in the modes in which it had hitherto been commended to God’s people in their isolation as a nation, and stood forth in its universal ethical content. Among the changes in its external form which it thus underwent was a change in the day of its observance. No injury was thus done the Sabbath as it was commanded to the Jews; rather a new greatness was brought to it. Our Lord, too, following the example of His Father, when He had finished the work which it had been given Him to do, rested on the Sabbath—in the peace of His grave. But He had work yet to do, and, when the first day of the new week, which was the first day of a new era, the era of salvation, dawned, He rose from the Sabbath rest of the grave, and made all things new. As C. F. Keil beautifully puts it: “Christ is Lord of the Sabbath, and after the completion of His work, He also resteth on the Sabbath. But He rose again on the Sabbath; and through His resurrection, which is the pledge to the world of the fruit of His redeeming work, He made this day the Lord’s Day for His Church, to be observed by it till the Captain of its salvation shall return, and having finished the judgment upon all His foes to the very last, shall lead it to the rest of that eternal Sabbath which God prepared for the whole creation through His own resting after the completion of the heaven and the earth.” Christ took the Sabbath into the grave with Him and brought the Lord’s Day out of the grave with Him on the resurrection morn.
It is true enough that we have no record of a commandment of our Lord’s requiring a change in the day of the observance of the Sabbath. Neither has any of the Apostles to whom he committed the task of founding His Church given us such a commandment. By their actions, nevertheless, both our Lord and His Apostles appear to commend the first day of the week to us as the Christian Sabbath. It is not merely that our Lord rose from the dead on that day. A certain emphasis seems to be placed precisely upon the fact that it was on the first day of the week that He rose. This is true of all the accounts of His rising. Luke, for example, after telling us that Jesus rose “on the first day of the week, on coming to add the account of His appearing to the two disciples journeying to Emmaus, throws what almost seems to be superfluous stress on that also having happened “on that very day.” It is in John’s account, however, that this emphasis is most noticeable. “Now, on the first day of the week,” he tells us, “cometh Mary Magdalene early,” to find the empty tomb. And then, a little later: “When therefore it was evening on that day, the first day of the week,” Jesus showed Himself to His assembled followers. The definition of the time here, the commentator naturally remarks, is “singularly full and emphatic.” Nor is this all. After thus pointedly indicating that it was on the evening of precisely the first day of the week that Jesus first showed Himself to His assembled disciples, John proceeds equally sharply to define the time of His next showing Himself to them as “after eight days”; that is to say it was on the next first day of the week that “His disciples were again within” and Jesus manifested Himself to them. The appearance is strong that our Lord, having crowded the day of His rising with manifestations, disappeared for a whole week to appear again only on the next Sabbath. George Zabriskie Gray seems justified, therefore, in suggesting that the full effect of our Lord’s sanction of the first day of the week as the appointed day of His meeting with His disciples can be fitly appreciated only by considering with His manifestations also His disappearances. “For six whole days between the rising day and its octave He was absent.” “Is it possible to exaggerate the effect of this blank space of time, in fixing and defining the impressions received through His visits?”
We know not what happened on subsequent Sabbaths: there were four of them before the Ascension. But there is an appearance at least that the first day of the week was becoming under this direct sanction of the risen Lord the appointed day of Christian assemblies. That the Christians were early driven to separate themselves from the Jews (observe Acts xix. 9) and had soon established regular times of “assembling themselves together,” we know from an exhortation in the Epistle to the Hebrews. A hint of Paul’s suggests that their ordinary day of assembly was on the first day of the week (1 Cor. xvi. 2). It is clear from a passage in Acts xx. 7 that the custom of “gathering together to break bread” “upon the first day of the week” was so fixed in the middle of the period of Paul’s missionary activity that though in haste he felt constrained to tarry a whole week in Troas that he might meet with the brethren on that day. It is only the natural comment to make when Friedrich Blass remarks: “It would seem, then, that that day was already set apart for the assemblies of the Christians.” We learn from a passing reference in the Apocalypse (i 10) that the designation “the Lord’s Day” had already established itself in Christian usage. “The celebration of the Lord’s Day, the day of the Resurrection,” comments Johannes Weiss, “is therefore already customary in the Churches of Asia Minor.” With such suggestions behind us, we cannot wonder that the Church emerges from the Apostolic age with the first day of the week firmly established as its day of religious observance. Nor can we doubt that apostolic sanction of this establishment of it is involved in this fact.
In these circumstances it cannot be supposed that Paul has the religious observance of the Lord’s Day as the Christian Sabbath in mind, when he exhorts the Colossians to keep themselves in indifference with respect to the usages which he describes as “the shadow of the things to come,” and enumerates as meat and drink and such things as festivals and new moons and Sabbath days (Col. ii. 16). They have the substance in Christ: why should they disturb themselves with the shadow. He does indeed sweep away with these words the whole system of typical ordinances which he repeatedly speaks of as weak and beggarly elements of the world. In a similar vein he exclaims to the Galatians (iv. 10): “Ye observe days and months and seasons and years. I am afraid of you lest by any means I have bestowed labour upon you in vain.” In thus emancipating his readers from the shadow-ordinances of the Old Dispensation, Paul has no intentions whatever, however, of impairing for them the obligations of the moral law, summarily comprehended in the Ten Commandments. It is simply unimaginable that he could have allowed that any precept of this fundamental proclamation of essential morality could pass into desuetude.
He knew, to be sure, how to separate the eternal substances of these precepts from the particular form in which they were published to Israel. Turn to the Epistle to the Ephesians, sister letter to that to the Colossians, written at the same time and sent by the hand of the same messengers, and read from the twenty-fifth verse of the fourth chapter on, a transcript from the second table of the Decalogue, in its depth and universalising touch, conceived quite in the spirit of our Lord’s own comments on it. “Wherefore,” says Paul, “putting away falsehood, speak ye each one truth with his neighbour; for we are members one of another.” That is the form which the Ninth Commandment takes in his hands. “Be ye angry and sin not; let not the sun go down upon your wrath; neither give place to the devil.” That is Paul’s version of the Sixth Commandment. “Let him that stole, steal no more; but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing that is good, that he may have whereof to give to him that hath need.” That is how he commends the Eighth Commandment. “Let no corrupt speech proceed out of your mouth, but such as is good for edifying as the need may be, that it may give grace to them that hear.” Thus Paul subtilises the requirements of the Seventh Commandment.
If we wish, however, fully to apprehend how Paul was accustomed to Christianise and universalise the Ten Commandments while preserving nevertheless intact their whole substance and formal authority, we should turn over the page and read this (Eph. vi. 2): “Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right. Honour thy father and mother (which is the first commandment with promise) that it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long in the earth.” Observe, first, how the Fifth Commandment is introduced here as the appropriate proof that obedience to parents is right. Having asserted it to be right, Paul adduces the commandment which requires it. Thus the acknowledged authority of the Fifth Commandment as such in the Christian Church is simply taken for granted. Observe, secondly, how the authority of the Fifth Commandment thus assumed as unquestionable, is extended over the whole Decalogue. For this Commandment is not adduced here as an isolated precept; it is brought forward as one of a series, in which it stands on equal grounds with the others, differing from them only in being the first of them which has a promise attached to it: “which is the first commandment with promise.” Observe, thirdly, how everything in the manner in which the Fifth Commandment is enunciated in the Decalogue that gives it a form and colouring adapting it specifically to the Old Dispensation is quietly set aside and a universalising mode of statement substituted for it: “That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.” All allusion to Canaan, the land which Jehovah, Israel’s God, had promised to Israel, is eliminated, and with it all that gives the promise or the commandment to which it is annexed any appearance of exclusive application to Israel. In its place is set a broad declaration valid not merely for the Jew who worships the Father in Jerusalem, but for all those true worshippers everywhere who worship Him in spirit and in truth. This may seem the more remarkable, because Paul, in adducing the commandment, calls especial attention to this promise, and that in such a manner as to appeal to its divine origin. It is quite clear that he was thoroughly sure of his ground with his readers. And that means that the universalising reading of the Ten Commandments was the established custom of the Apostolic Church.
Can we doubt that as Paul, and the whole Apostolic Church with him, dealt with the Fifth Commandment, so he dealt with the Fourth? That he preserved to it its whole substance and its complete authority, but eliminated from it too all that tended to give it a local and temporary reference? And why should this not have carried with it, as it certainly seems to have carried with it, the substitution for the day of the God of Israel, who brought His people out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage, the day of the Lord Jesus, who brought them out of worse bondage than that of Egypt by a greater deliverance, a deliverance of which that from Egypt was but a type? Paul would be dealing with the Fourth Commandment precisely as he deals with the Fifth, if he treated the shadow-Sabbath as a matter of indifference and brought the whole obligation of the commandment to bear upon keeping holy to the Lord the new Lord’s Day, the monument of the second and better creation. That this was precisely what he did, and with him the whole Apostolic Church, there seems no room to question. And the meaning of that is that the Lord’s Day is placed in our hands by the authority of the Apostles of Christ, under the undiminished sanction of the eternal law of God.
I cannot throw aside my religion, yet how hard it is to keep it—to think, speak, act, and live as a Christian—to be one inwardly and outwardly—to be a true follower of the Lamb, whithersoever He goeth—to walk daily and hourly with godly fear in exercise—to conquer sin, and live a life of faith in the Son of God. If this be true religion, how little I seem to have of it! . . . But what is it that does keep our religion for us, and keep us from falling? What is it that does save and support us amidst all the conflict by the way? You have the reply in the words of our precious passage, “My Beloved standeth behind our wall.” He it is who keeps pouring in the oil, and as He pours, we will praise; as He works, we will give Him all the honour.”—George Cowell, in the “Gospel Magazine.”
Searmoinean leis an Arramach Eonghas MacMhaolain.
Searmoin V.
Gniomhara, iii. Caib., 19 Rann.
“Air an aobhar sin, deanaibhse aithreachas, agus bithibh air bhur n-iompachadh, chum gum ’m bi bhur peacanna air an glanadh as an uair a thig ’amanna fionnuaireachd o lâthair an Tighearna.”
(Air a leantuinn o t.d. 222).
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Tha ’n t-àm anns am bheil an Tighearna foillseachadh a thròcair do neach sam bith, le bhi maitheadh a pheacanna, agus a labhairt sìth r’ a anam, ’na àm fionnuaireachd o a lâthaireachd. Anns an dara Sailm dèug thar flichead, tha Daibhidh a toirt cunntas dhuinn air an staid bhronach anns an robh anam féin aig àm araidd fo mhothachadh air cionta pheacaidh, agus fo eagal corruich Dhé. Tha e gearan gu robh làmh an Tighearna trom air, a là agus a dh’ oidche, gus an robh a bhrigh air atharrachadh gu tiormachd an t-samhraidh. Ach an uair a thòisich fior aithreachas air oibreachadh, agus a dh’ fhoillsich e a pheacaidh le tuirse cridhe, le bròn diadhaidh, dh’ fhoillsich an Tighearna thròcair dha ann am maitheanas peacaidh, ann a bhi labhairt sìth r’ a anam; agus cha e soilleir gu robh an t-àm so ’na àm fionnuaireachd, oir thòisich an Salmadair gun dàill ri seinn—“Is beannaichte esan a fhuair maitheanas ’na ea-ceartaibh, is beannaichte an ti nach cuir an Tighearna peacadh as a leth.” Anns a t-seachdamh caibideil do ’n t-soisgeil a reir Lucais, tha cunntas againn air bana-pheacach mhòr a bha air a toirt gu fior aithreachas. Thaing a bhean so aig àm araidd a dh’ ionnsuidh tigh coimhearsnaich anns an robh Criosd ’na shuidh aig biadh, agus air dhith a bhi leaghadh ann am bròn diadhaidh, agus air a lionadh le teas-ghràdh do Chriosd, nigh i chosan le a deuraibh, agus thiormaich i iad le folt a cinn. Tha e soilleir gu robh a bhean so ann an doilgheas mòr air son lionmhoireachd a peacanna; ach chuir Criosd an ceill gu follaiseach, gu robh a peacanna bha lionmhor air a’ maitheadh dhith; seadh, chuir e air falbh i leis na briathraibh sólasach so, —“Shlànuiich do chreidimh thu, imich an sìth.” A nis, feudaidh sinn a bhi cinnteach gu robh an t-àm so ’na am fionnuaireachd, ’na àm anns an d’ thaing anam brònach na mna so gu sìth agus aoibhneas, tre chreidimh anns an Tighearn Iosa Criosd. Tha gach àm anns am bheil Criosd a toirt a lâthaireachd spioradail d’ a phobull, agus a togail solus a ghnuis air an anamaibh, ‘na àm fionnuaireachd. An uair a chuir e ‘n ceill d’ a dheiseoiobluibh gu robh e mu thimchioll dealachadh riu, agus dol chum an Athar, bha iadsan ro thuirseach, lion do-bròn an cridhe; ach dh’ innis e dhoibh aig an àm cheudna gu ‘m faiceadh e ris iad, agus gu ‘n deanadh an cridhe gairdeachas. A nis bha ‘n gealladh so ann an tomhas air a choimhlionadh air feasgar an là air an d’ éirich e o na marbhaibh, an uair a sheas e na’ meadhon, a labhair e sith riu, agus a nochd e dhoibh a làmhan agus a thaobh. Thug an sealladh obain so d’ am Fear-saoraidh caoimh, ur-chomhfhurtachd do na deiscioibluibh, oir tha ‘n’ soisgeulach ag innseadh dhuinn gu robh aoibhneas orra, an uair a chunnaic iad an Tighearn.
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Bithidh an t-àm anns am bi na fíreanaich air an gairm o thruaillidheachd, agus o thrioblaidibh an t-saoghail so, a dh’ ionnsuidh sonas siorruidh, ‘na àm fionnuaireachd o làthair an Tighearna. An uair a tha iad air am fiosrachadh le h-ionnlaid na h-ath-ghineamhuinn, tha iad mar an ceudna air am fíreanaichadh, agus air an uchd-mhachad gu àireamh cloinne Dhé; ach co fhad ‘s a tha iad air thalamh, cha ‘n ‘eil iad air an làn shaoradh o thruaillidheachd a pheacaidh, no ann an làn-shealbh air an t-sonas a cheannaich Criosd air an son. Tha ‘m peacadh ‘nan cridhe, agus ‘nan cuideachd, anns gach ceum do astar am beatha tre fhàsach an t-saoghail so, agus ga mheasgadh féin gach là le ‘n uile ghniomharraibh. Tha ‘n smuain-tean, am briathra, am oibre, seadh, agus an gràsan, ann an tomhas eigin, air an truaillleadh leis a pheacadh co fhad ‘sa tha iad a buanachadh anns an staid neo-iomlan so. Tha truailllidheachd a nàduir ‘na h-aobhar iomad trioblaid do ‘n fhiar iompachan. Tha e gu tric air a chràdh le mothachadh air co diomhain ‘sa tha a smuain-tean, co dorcha ‘sa tha intinn, co mealltach ‘sa tha chridhe, agus co neo-chomasach ‘s a tha e air a mhaith a bu mhiann leis a dheanamh. Tha e ga fhaicinn féin gach là, ‘na chreutair anmhuinn agus truaillidh, a tha teachd gearr air an tomhas sin do sholus, do naomhachd, agus do chomh-chomunn maille ri Dia, air am bu mhiann leis ruigheachd, agus uime sin, tha e gu tric ullamh gu ohi gearan, ‘s ag éigheach leis an Abstol, “Och is duine truagh mi! co a shaoras mi o chorp a bhàis so?” Ann an fhàsach so, tha ‘m fior chreidmheach mar an ceudna air a chuartachadh le mòran do naimhdibh spioradail; tha ‘n Diabhul, an saoghal, agus an fheòil, a cogadh ‘na aghaidh, agus trid truailllidheachd a nàduir, agus mealltaireachd a chridhe, tha e buailteach a bhi tuiteam ann am buaireadh gach là, agus a toirt cionta agus trioblaid air anam féin. Uime sin tha e feumail da a bhi ri faire, ‘s ri ûrnuigh gun sgr, a bhi cuir deadh-chath a chreidimh, a bhi gleachd, cha ‘n e mhain ri fuil agus ri feoil, ach ri uachdaranachdaibh, ri cumhachdaibh, ri riagh-lairibh dòrchadais an t-saoghail so, agus ri aingidheachd spioradail ann an ionadaibh àrda. An uair a bheir sin fa ‘near cor sluagh Dhé anns an t-saoghail so, co cealgach ‘s a tha ‘n cridhe, co truailidh ‘s a tha ‘n nàdur, agus co lionmhor ‘s a tha ‘n naimhdean, tha e ro shoilleir nach ‘eil fois na saorsa iomlan o thrioblaid na o theinn a feitheamh orra ‘n taobh a bhos do ‘n uaigh, agus gur ann an uair a ghairear iad o ‘n t-saoghail a ta lâthair, a dh’ ionnsuidh saoghail nan spiorad, a dh’ ionnsuidh fois shiorruidh, a thig, ann an seadh iomlan, àm am fionnuaireachd o lâthair an Tighearna. Co fhad ‘s a tha iad air chuairt anns an fhàsach so, tha toinn air thonn do nithibh buaireasach éigin ‘g an leantuin o là gu là; ach an uair a thig iad gu Sion le caithream agus aoibhneas siorruidh air an cinn, gheibn iad gairdeachas agus subhachas, agus teichidh bròn agus osnaich air falbh. “Oir beathaichidh an t-Uan a tha am meadhon na righ-chaitreach iad, agus treòraichidh e iad gu beò-thobraichibh uisge, agus tiormaichidh Dia gach deur o ‘n sùilbh.”
(Ri leantuin.)
Ceit Mhor, Loch=Carrunn.
II.
(Air a leantuin o t.-d. 226.)
Aig àm araidd air dhi dol do chitsin a’ mhinistir, ‘s i feitheamh ri còmhradh ris, tha e air innseadh gun robh a h-aire air a tharruing, le fuaim linn do thunnagan òga bha tighinn dlùth dhi far an robh i na suidhe. Gun fhios aice gun robh duine sam bith ga cluinntinn thòisich am boirionnach bochd dall, ag radh, “O mo thunnagan bochda, is sibh na creutairean sona, sona; cha do cheus sibh an Slanuifhear mar a rinn mise; b’ fhearr do Cheit Mhoir gun robh i na tunnaig cosmhuil ribhse; oir O, an sin cha bhitheadh aon pheadadh aice ri fhreagrath air a shon—cha bhitheadh peacadh, cha bhitheadh peacadh!” Feudaidh an naidheachd so a bhi suarach le cuid, no theagamh amaideach; ach cha ‘n eil an fhaireachdunna a tha ise foillseachadh mar sin; oir is lionmhor na peacaich a chaidh a dhùsgadh aig an robh iarr-tas Ceit dhall, a rachadh gu toilleach ann an cruth coin no cloiche, oir an sin “cha bhitheadh peacadh aca ri freagairt air a shon—cha bhitheadh peacadh, cha bhitheadh peacadh!” Anns an treas bliadhna d’a h-àmghair bha déigh mhòr aig Mr Lachun gu ‘n suidheadh i aig bòrd an Tighearna, agus air an aobhar sin ghnàthaich e gach uile reusanachadh chum a h-aomadh gu cuimhne chumail air gràdh Chriosd na bhàs. Ach cha b’ urrainn ni sam bith impidh a chur oirre gu aont-achadh. “Ne ise a rachadh air a h-adhairt a dh’ionnsuidh a’ bhùird naoimh sin! ise aig an robh a làmhan suas gu guallinean an fùil a’ Shlanaufhir! Cha suidheadh; dheanadh a lathaireachd an t-òrdugh! beannaichte á thruailleadh, agus bu leoir e gu ‘n co’ thional uile shall-achadh! Cha suidheadh, cha suidheadh ise gu bràth aig a’ bhòrd; cha robh an comanachd air a son sa!” Ach bha am ministir gu’n rùn fhaotainn ann rathad nach do shaoil e riamh.
Thaing an t’ Sàbaid, dhluthaich àm cruinneachaidh, ach bha Ceit cho daingean na barail s’ a bha i roimhe. Cha’n aithne dhomhsa an dearbh àite s’an do chruinnich an comthional Gaidhlig air Sàbaid a’ chomanaichidh ud; ach co-dhiu, mar bu ghnàth, aig a leithid sud do dh’âm chaidh na bùird a sgaoileadh (shuidheachadh) anns a’ mhachair fhosgailte, am measg beanntaibh fiadhaich Loch-carrunn. Am faca riamh, neach do’m luchd leughaidh bòrd na Sàcramaid ga sheirbheiseachadh aig nach do shuidh ach aon chomanaiche? ach chunnacas a lethid so do shealladh air an latha ainmeil ud, agus b’ i Ceit bhochd, agus Mr. Lachun a mhàin a bha mun ghnothach.
Bha na bùird uile air an seirbheiseachadh; bha na samhlaidhean air an tabhairt air falbh, phill am mhinisteir do’n bhùth (tent) gu tòiseachadh air an t-searmoinn chodhunaidh, agus na h-uile a’ feitheamh ri ceud bhriathraibh an fhir-labhairt, ‘n uair a chualas gu h-obann glaothh eudochais ann an iomail a chomthionail—glaodh, bho bhoir-ionnach ann an cruaidh chàs, a chualas gu soilleir air feadh a’ chomthionail, agus do ‘n freagair, mactalla nan creag, mar gum b’ann le co-fhaireachduinn. ‘Se guth Ceit Mhor a bh’ann, shaol i nis gun robh gach ni seachad—gun robh an cothrom caillte, agus nach tilleadh e gu bràth tuilleadh! Ghabh an co’thional iongantas; leum na ceudan air an cosan, agus dh’amhaire iad gu geur a dh’ionnsuidh an ionaid bho’n cual iad an glaoth. Ach cha b’e sin do’n ministir e; dh’ aithnich Mr. Lachun an guth ud, agus is math a thuig e aobhar a cràidh. Gun fthocal a ràdh, thaining e mach as a’ bhùth, agus chaidh e null air feadh an t-sluaigh gus an d’rainig e an t-aite; agus air dha Ceit a ghabhail gu caoimhneil air làimh, threoraich e i am measg a’ comthionail, a bha fo mhòr ioghnadh, a dh’ionnsuidh bòrd a’ chomanachaidh, agus chuir e i na suidhe, na h-aonar, aig a’ cheann. Dh àithn e ‘n sin na samhlaidhean a bhi air an toirt a làthair agus an cur air a bhòrd; agus am sin shuidh an t-aon chreutair dall aonaranach ud, a measg nam miltean, leatha féin. Bha gach suil a bha ‘san ehomthional mhor ud ag amharc le iongantas air an aon bhean ehomanaichaidh—ach cha robh fios aice-se gun robh iad mar so ga h-amharc. O nach robh agam peann Bhuinein no Bhostoin gus an cuirinn sios na trom-fhaireachduinnean domhain sin bha snamh na h-uchd, a bha an impis sgàineadh. Cha d’fhoillsieheadh riamh nithe diamhair a’ chridhe ud; ach is mi tha cinn-teach, ma tha aon earrann do’n Sgriobtur is mò tha gabhail a steach na cheile an fhaireachduinn a bha os ceann gach uile fhaireachduinn na h-inntinn, aig an àm chudthromach ud, ‘san robh a lethid do thogail spioradail aice, gur breathnachadh aon aig an robh deadh fhis ciod e bhi air irioslachadh san duslach mar a bha Ceit: “Is ràdh fior so, agus airidh air gach aon chor air gabhail ris, gun d’thainig Iosa Criosd do’n t-saoghail a thearnadh pheacach, d’ am mise an ceud fhear.”
Bha na briathran a ghabh Mr. Lachun mar steidh theagaig an ire mhaith cho iongantaich ris a’ chuid eile do na thachair; b’ iad briathran Mhaois di Pharaoh (Ecsod. x 26): “Cha’n fhàgar ionga ‘n ar déigh”—co-chordadh aith-nichte ris na briathram, “Iadsan a thug thu dhomh ghleidh mi, agus cha de chailleadh a h-aon diubh.” Is duilich leam nach eil e n’am chomas a bheag sam bith do’n t-searmoin iongantaich ud, anns an d’fhuair am fear labhairt saorsa anabarrach, a chur an làthair an leughadair. Ach b’e suim an teagaig, gun robh iadsan uile, a bha air an tabhairt anns a’ chùmhnaist leis an Athair Shiorruidh, do’n Mhac, cho sàbhailt is ged bhitheadh iad cheana ann an neamh, agus nach bhitheadh aon anam air a threigsinn na air fhàgail gu dol a dhith—”Cha bhitheadh, fiù Ceit Mhor!” Se “Bord Ceit Mhoir,” a theirteadh riamh tuilleadh ris an t-seirbhis iongantaich so, agus tha e air aithris gun robh cho maith ri dà cheud anam air an dùsgadh gu cùram spioradail leis an aon searmoin ud, agus gun do lean mòran dhiubh air an adhairt gu diadhachd dhomhain agus fhirinneach. B’ aithne do’n mhinistir a chaidh ainmeachadh, e fein, naoinear dhiubhsan a fluair an ceud mhothachadh air an staid, aig seirbhis a’ bhuird ud, agus bha iad uile, nuair a b’aithne dhasan iad anabarrach clìuteach ‘san diadhachd. Bha Ceit Mhor beò mu thri bliadhna an deigh dhi an ceud ehomanaichadh a ghabhail, a’ sealbhachadh na “sithe De a tha thar gach uile thuisge,” agus a’ làn fhoills-eachadh na h-uile comhara gun robh a caithe-beatha dlùth agus iriosal maile ri Dia.
Faith opens up in a way for the understanding; unbelief closes it.—Augustine.
Prayer for Pastors.
BY REV. JOHN BERRIDGE.
ON THE DEATH OF GEORGE WHITEFIELD.
Send help! O Lord, we pray,
And Thine own Gospel bless;
For godly men decay,
And faithful pastors cease.
The righteous are removed home,
And nought but scorners takes their room.
While Satan’s troops are bold,
And thrive in number too;
And flocks in Jesus’ fold
Are growing lank and few.
Old sheep are moving off each year.
And few lambs in the folds appear.
Old shepherds, too, retire
Who gathered flocks below;
And young ones catch no fire,
Or worldly-minded grow.
Few run with trumpets in their hand,
To sound alarm by sea and land.
O Lord! Stir up Thy power
To make the Gospel spread,
And thrust out preachers more
With voice to raise the dead;
With feet to run where Thou dost call;
With faith to fight and conquer all.
The flocks that long have dwelt
Around fair Sion’s hill,
And Thy sweet grace have felt,
Uphold and feed them still;
But fresh folds build up everywhere,
And plenteously Thy Truth declare.
As one Elijah dies,
True prophet of the Lord,
Let some Elisha rise
To spread the Gospel Word;
And fast as sheep to Jesus go
May lambs recruit His folds below.
Memoirs of Elizabeth Cairns.
(Continued from Vol. xxvii, p. 279.)
NINTH PERIOD.
IN the beginning of the next year I continued under composure of mind and health of body to a wonder; and as for outward comforts of life, I wanted for nothing necessary, for my throughbearing. Oh, what reason have I to say as it is said of Job, “The Lord hath returned my captivity indeed;” and as to the Gospel I am daily hearing, by it I am sometimes confirmed of former experiences, and get clearer views of fundamental truths, and thereby refreshed and strengthened; but my best times are in secret between God and my soul.
In the three months of summer, I had some opportunities of attending sacramental occasions, where I heard some sermons with great satisfaction, and enjoyed sensible visits from my dear Redeemer. “But oh! when I think on the terrible backslidings of the Church of Scotland, and the misimprovements of word and sacrament, I am filled with wonder at His great goodness and long-suffering, both as to myself and others; but He is God and not man, therefore we are not consumed.”
I have been twice threatened with a sudden death this summer, and yet spared. “Oh, that I by his grace may spend the rest of my life to the glory of God and the service of my generation, always standing on my watch-tower, saying, ‘Come, Lord Jesus.’ For all the crumbs and drops He hath given, and yet allows me in this my wilderness-state, yet I long to be away from this body of death and mortal life, and so put in case to see Him as He is, and made like unto Him; but I earnestly desire, if it be His will, I may not die an unordinary death.”
This has been a melancholy day to me, though it be the Sabbath. I have been plagued all the day with a wandering heart. Oh, that this may not be the beginning of evil days! For those fifteen months I have had many good days, on the remembrance of which I desire to reflect and also to mourn over misimprovements; and when I was in prayer I was led out in pleading with the Lord that He would not send me back to a wilderness of desertion and temptation again, and that was suggested to my mind, that the Lord pitied His children as a man pitied his son that served him; but it was objected in my mind that I could not serve the Lord. Yet there was an immediate power sent that turned my soul to look to Christ, and thereby I was helped to plead and apply the complete obedience He gave to the law, with the full satisfaction He yielded unto the Father’s justice in the room of the elect sinner.
This week I have felt much deadness and wandering of spirit, yet some blinks were allowed me; and on the Sabbath I got rational hearing, and several marks were given of saving power, and I could not deny but I had found them in my experience, and in secret I was helped to lay my case before the Lord; and while I was pleading in prayer, that passage in Luke vii. 37, 38, “And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, stood at Jesus’ feet behind Him weeping, and began to wash His feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed His feet, and anointed them with the ointment.” And ver. 48, “He said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven,” etc. Oh, this portion of Scripture was sweet to me, for I believe that by faith His people have as real access to Him at this day, and have the like intimation of the forgiveness of their sins.
This week I have had pleasantness of mind, and sometimes much refreshed in secret prayer and meditation. On the Sabbath morning I was filled and refreshed with the hope of heaven and believing views of what is there. I heard a lecture on Ps. xlv., where in the beginning of the psalm the Psalmist records what the Lord did for His people. The minister did remark that it was the duty of every one to observe the Lord’s works, and to transmit them to posterity, from the fathers to the children, what God had wrought in their days. Oh, I thought this reached me with a conviction, who had so little observed what God had done for His Church and people in my day.