I

OUR country has many bays and fifths; but one of the finest in Scotland is the Bay of Cromarty. At its opening stands two hills, or rocky cliffs, called the Sutors of Cromarty, and up between these hills the waters of the German Ocean flow, spreading out into a wide fifth for many miles. So deep is this bay that any navy could float in it, and so sheltered is it that it affords refuge to vessels from every storm. It is on the south side of the bay, and not far from its mouth, that the little town of Cromarty stands.

If you and I were taking a walk there, very likely we might first climb some height, to look all around on the waters, and the green slopes, and the rocks, and more distant hills. But we would soon return to the town, perhaps to visit the spot where the old castle stood, and then to linger among the ruins of the old chapel of St Relugas, on a green eminence east of the town. The old burying-ground is there. There are some of the tombs and tombstones more interesting than others, like that one set up in 1679, on a woman, of whom it is said :—

“Here lies at rest a faithful one,
Whom God hath pleased to call upon.
Her life she lived both poor and just,
And aye in God she put her trust.
God’s laws obeyed; to sin was loath :
No doubt she died a happy death.”

About the middle of the burying-ground is a large, rude stone, reared on two shapeless balusters. This stone is inscribed with a brief record of the family of Lindsay, for four generations. They were once a wealthy family, well-known in that country-side; but the Lord made their riches take wings and fly away, so that the only descendant of that house, about the beginning of

*The original narrative from Mr Davidson’s MS. appeared in the “Gospel Magazine” (1776).

1700, was the poor boy of whom we are about to speak. He was poorer than most around him as to this world’s means, but richer than any of his house before him in the things of God.

He was born about the year 1719, and lost his father when seven years old. He lived with his widowed mother, in one of the wide rooms of a huge house, fast falling into ruin, at the foot of the Chapel-hill. This was all that remained of the fine mansion of his forefathers. Perhaps he sometimes wished that he had lived in the days when the Lindsays had plenty of money and a full house; but God was preparing better things for him, as He so often does for the poorest.

Andrew Lindsay was nigh-spirited when at school, fond of mischief, and even of wickedness; regardless of his mother, and careless of his book, though well able to learn. But when he was about twelve years of age, a chance began. There was in the place a godly minister, Mr Gordon, who sought the good of his people, old and young. This good man preached and taught the way of salvation, and Andrew Lindsay sometimes went with his mother to his church. The Spirit of God used the minister’s words to awaken him to consider his ways; for, you know, “the Spirit of God maketh the reading, but especially the preaching, of the Word an effectual means of convincing and converting sinners.” He broke off from the company of his careless companions; he went alone to read the Bible and pray; he attended the weekly meetings for prayer; in short, he could not rest till he should find Christ. It was remarked, too, that now he had become most kind and dutiful to his widowed mother: as all really anxious souls are sure to be in a like case.

God, in His sovereign grace, is pleased ofttimes to use more instruments than one in saving a soul. He may, in your case, use your parents’ words and prayers; the instructions of your Sabbath school teacher; your minister’s preaching also; and perhaps, in the end, you may be brought to a full closing with Christ through the visit of some stranger, in whose voice and manner you are interested. So also, God, in His free grace, sometimes saves souls very quickly, as He did Zaccheus and the Philippian jailor who were brought to Christ before they had even prayed one prayer to Him. At other times (and it was so with Andrew Lindsay), He lets them go on trying to do something for themselves, and occasionally it is long before they are fully freed from difficulties and fears. Such persons, whether

young or old, do not fully believe the Gospel, fancying (through their own mistake and ignorance) that Christ is not willing to receive them at once. They are unconsciously “establishing their own righteousness,” dwelling on their own feelings, and wants, and weakness, instead of making haste to get all supplied out of Christ’s fulness. Andrew Lindsay, we said, was one of this class; and, when opportunity occurred, went in search of help to other ministers besides his own. The people in that part of the country used to travel long distances to other places, crossing ferries and climbing hills, to hear the preachings, and other services at the times when the Lord’s Supper was dispensed. Andrew Lindsay sometimes did the same, hoping always to find something which might lead him to Christ.

The Late Rev. J. B. Radasi, Bembesi.

IT is with sincere sorrow we announce the removal from time to an endless eternity of the Rev. J. B. Radasi, Bembesi, Matabeleland, Rhodesia, on the 4th November. Rev. John Tallach arrived there on the 6th (two days after the sad event), and sent immediately a cablegram to inform us that Mr Radasi was no more, and that he himself had a good passage, and arrived there in good health.

Mr Radasi was truly an eminently godly man. He served, with the utmost faithfulness, the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland at Bembesi during nineteen years. The Lord set many seals to his ministry there, and, we have no doubt, received him with the words—”Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.” May the Lord comfort, uphold, and provide for the widow and fatherless children, and may He adapt His grace and strength to Mr Tallach’s needs and the needs of all the people under his care.—N. C.

Organization Fund.—This Fund, according to the Synod’s finding, is to be taken up this month. As our readers are probably aware, the Fund is meant to meet expenses connected with the administration of the affairs of the Church, and it is to be hoped that our people will respond heartily to it.

Noted Preachers of the Northern Highlands.

REV. ALEXANDER STEWART, CROMARTY.

THE Rev. Alexander Stewart was the son of the Rev. Dr Alexander Stewart, Dingwall, and was born in the Manse of Moulin, Perthshire, where his father was then minister. Alexander was born on the 25th September 1794. His mother, an excellent and pious lady, died when he was only five years old. He received the first elements of his education at Moulin Parish School. When Alexander was about ten years of age his father was translated to Dingwall, and the young lad was sent to Tain Academy, one of the most northern educational seminaries, to continue his studies. Here he enjoyed not only exceptional educational advantages, but had the great privilege of enjoying the ministrations of Dr Angus Mackintosh, one of the noted servants of Christ in Easter Ross. He was welcomed as a relative in Dr Mackintosh’s home. From Tain he proceeded to Aberdeen, where he spent two sessions at the University. His cousin, Mr P. G. Stewart, Perth, becoming interested in Alexander, asked him to enter into business with him with the view of being initiated into the business of a manufacturer. He remained in Perth about eighteen months. The training he received in his father’s home stood him in good stead during this period, and in his observance of the Lord’s Day and shunning of questionable pleasures, such as the theatre, he showed he had the moral courage to refuse to go in the way wherein destroyers go. In one of his father’s letters, written about this time, he says:—”I do hope, dear boy! that the Lord has made Himself savingly known to his soul. He lately sent a very pious and affecting letter to his sister Catherine, which I pray may be the appointed means of doing her good.”

In 1813 Alexander went to London, and under the preaching of the Rev. C. Clayton, a true servant of Christ, the religious impressions already referred to were deepened. He now became very discontented with his commercial career, and longed to return to his studies, with a view of preparing himself for the ministry. But he had bound himself by an agreement with his master for a number of years, and there were other difficulties in the way that stood as mountains in his path. Owing to his master becoming a bankrupt, he was set free from his engagement, and in

1815 he returned to Dingwall. Dr Stewart, in a letter to his sister, says:—”I am persuaded that his (Alexander’s) time and labour these last five years have not been spent in a useless manner. He has lived among strangers; he has had to think a good deal for himself. At the same time, the Lord has been teaching him the best knowledge—the saving knowledge of Himself. He has thought and read, closely and practically, on the most important points of religion. He and I have had much sweet fellowship and several turns of prayer together; and I think that I can now heartily offer him to the Lord; and in doing so, that I only give Him what is His own already.” Miss Stewart, Alexander’s aunt, to whom this letter was written, was matron of the Royal Infirmary, Glasgow, and took a deep interest in her nephew. It was probably owing to this interest that Alexander went to Glasgow and took up his classes in Arts at the University. On the completion of his Arts course, he entered the Divinity Hall, and it was during his first session that his tender heart received a staggering blow through the death of his beloved aunt. “To mourn for a dear beloved friend,” he says, in a letter to his father, “is a painful thing; but to mourn is salutary, and surely far preferable to a state of foolish levity or callous indifference. I have lately finished a lecture on Roms. iii. 19-31, and am at present in the middle of a sermon on II. Cor. ix. 15. How much more does my dear aunt know of the subject than I do! How much better is she able to tell of the unspeakable greatness of the gift, and also to thank God for it!” While in Glasgow he was brought into touch with Dr Chalmers and Dr Love among others, and it is interesting to know that so high was Dr Chalmers’ opinion of the young student that he wished him to be his successor in St John’s, Glasgow. Mr Stewart’s natural diffidence and self-distrust, which were marked features of his character, made him shrink from considering the proposal.

Mr Stewart was licensed to preach the gospel early in 1823, by the Presbytery of Lorn. In November of this year he was chosen to be minister of the Chapel of Ease, Rothesay. His stay at Rothesay was brief, for in the following year he was called to Cromarty, though the great bulk of the parishioners had never seen him. His friend, Dr Beith, Stirling, gives the following interesting description of Mr Stewart’s appearance and preaching:—”I see him enter the pulpit with a solemnity of aspect which is the fruit of real feeling. He is a tall, clumsily-made man—five feet

eleven at least. The outline of his figure is more that of the female than the male. His limbs are full and round. There is a little tendency to stoop; a little tendency, too, to corpulence, but very little. His chest is well thrown out, his shoulders are somewhat raised, and his neck is short. The head is a curiosity. It is nearly round, with a sort of wrench to one side. It rises high, being well developed in a circular arch above his ears, which are small and beautifully formed. It is covered with thick-set hair of a lightish sandy colour, which invades the brow, covers the temples, and reaches to within an inch and a-half of the eyebrows on all sides. Instead of being brushed down in the direction of its natural set, it is brushed up, to clear it off the short brow, and so stands like a peak at right angles with the brow. The noble dimensions of that portion of the head are wholly concealed, and the effect on the beholder, at first sight, is to make him think that he is looking on one who must be a half idiot. The eyebrows are not large nor expanded, but they rise a little at the extremities towards the temples. The nose is beautifully formed; large, but not too large, aquiline and symmetrical, as if cut with the chisel. The eyes are small, grey, rather deep set, sparkling and expressive. The mouth is large, the line of the lips, which are thin, being beautifully curved. The lips shut easily, and look as if they had a superabundance of longitude. The chin is rather long, and is in a slight degree peaked, but it is neither retiring nor protruding. The skin is smooth, as that of early youth. The cheeks are not large. Taking it all in all, it is a handsome, though most uncommon, head and face. I have never seen anything to compare with it.

Well, he enters the pulpit, and after a moment’s pause, rises to read the Psalm. It is not a female voice, and yet it is not the rough voice of a man of his size and form. It is deep, clear, solemn, sweet, flexible, and of great compass. Every word is uttered as if the speaker felt himself standing in the presence of God, and in the sight of the throne, and as if he desired all should feel the same. The emphasis is so laid in reading the Psalm, as to bring out a meaning I had never discovered. His prayer is simplicity itself; a child can comprehend every word, yet his thoughts are of the richest; whilst Scripture phraseology, employed and applied as I never heard it in another, clothes them all. By the time the prayer is ended, I have been instructed and edified. I have received views of

truth I had not possessed before, and have had awakened feelings which have set me on edge for the sermon, and which I desire to cherish for ever. The sermon comes. It seems to be a most deeply interesting and animated conversation on a common topic. ‘We ought to think like great men, and speak like the common people,’ appears to be the maxim which regulates the style. The manner is that of one who converses with a friend, and who has chosen a subject by the discussion of which he desires, from his inmost soul, to do him good. Illustration follows illustration in rapid succession, shedding light on his doctrine, and confirming it. Sometimes the illustrations seem puerile, scarcely dignified enough for the pulpit, but that impression lasts only for a moment. Some Scripture allusion, or Scripture quotation, reveals the source from which they have been drawn; and I am filled with admiration of the genius which has discovered what I never discovered, and has made a use of the discovery, which I think I and every man should have made, but which I never did. Scarcely any gesture is employed. One hand rests usually on the open Bible. The other is sometimes quietly raised, and its impressive, short motion gives emphasis to the earnest words which are being spoken. The earnestness seems under severe control. It looks as if the speaker desired to conceal the emotion of his heart in speaking for Christ to sinners—as if he thought noise and gesticulation unbecoming. The eyelids grow red, the tears apparently struggle to escape, but no tear comes. A pink spot, almost a hestish flush—but it is not so—appears like the reflection of an evening sunbeam on the cheek. Some burning words clothe some fine thought, which seems to come fresh from heaven; and the speaker, as I think, half-ashamed of the emotion which he has manifested, and which he has sensibly communicated to his hearers, returns to the calm manner from which he had for an instant departed, only, however, to be enticed from it again and again, yielding, as if by compulsion to the inspiration which ever revisits him. So he proceeds, until, to my deep regret, he closes his wonderful discourse, which has extended long beyond the hour.”

Dr Beith also calls attention to the joyousness—the boisterous joyousness—in which Mr Stewart indulged in the company of congenial friends. And in this connection reference may be made here to an incident connected with a rebuke administered to Mr Stewart by “MacRath Mor” (Rev. John Macrae). “Dr Mac-

donald and Mr Stewart,” says Mr Macmaster, Mr Macrae’s son-in-law, “were both at Knockbain assisting at the services. At dinner Mr Stewart, on the Monday, was in the most exuberant spirits, and kept the table in a roar of laughter. At last Mr Macrae, who had been silent and impatient, interfered, and said— ‘Really, Mr Stewart, this is going too far; you can’t call this a fitting conclusion to the work in which we have been engaged’ . . . Late in the evening, when the others had retired, Mr Stewart very solemnly observed—’Macrae, you rebuked me at dinner for my apparent levity; but with my habits, spending so much of my time alone, I think I would have been dead long ago, but that I have occasional times of relaxation when I find myself among friends.’ ‘I felt in his presence,’ Mr Macrae afterwards said, ‘as if I would be glad to hide myself in the earth.'”

In 1847 the congregation of Free St George’s, Edinburgh, addressed a call to him, and though his sensitive mind shrank from the onerous charge, at length he was prevailed upon to accept the call. After the meeting of the Presbytery of Chanonry at which he accepted the call, Mr Stewart was walking along the street with Dr Buchanan, one of the commissioners sent north to prosecute the call, who, noticing Mr Stewart’s dejected look, remarked to him—”You look as if you were carrying a mountain on your back.” “No, Dr Buchanan,” came the sad reply, “I am not carrying a mountain, but I am carrying my gravestone on my back.” His words proved too true. An attack of fever came on. To an enquiry made by his doctor, he answered—”I am going to die. It is a solemn thing, doctor, to die, and to meet God in judgment.” He quietly fell asleep, 5th November 1847, in the fifty-third year of his age.

Two posthumous works have appeared from his pen, “The Tree of Promise” and “The Mosaic Sacrifices.” These books deal with the typology of Scripture, and though only skeletons of sermons, they are very useful and valuable. They give us only a faint idea what he was as a preacher. “His sermons,” says Rev. D. Sage, Resolis, “were truly expressions of the character of his mind, and were powerfully intellectual. His comprehension of a subject never stopped half-way but reached over the whole of it; and any subject which he, at the outset, felt difficult fully and clearly to understand, he declined to enter upon. The language, therefore, which he employed was strictly appropriate. From the beginning to the close of his public addresses.

a single superfluous word could not be detected. His views of divine truth in general, but more especially of the deeper mysteries of redemption, were not only sound and scriptural, but vivid, striking, and impressive. He had also, in common with all great orators in argument, the happy but rare art of concentrating the whole force of his previous illustration of the subject into one short, comprehensive sentence at the close. In the fundamental doctrines of the gospel, or any of its practical precepts, I never heard a preacher so exquisitely simple and impressive.” — (Memorabilia Domesticæ, p. 377, 1st Edit.).

Lord Macaulay on Popery.

BUT, during the last three centuries, to stunt the growth of the human mind has been her chief object. Throughout Christendom, whatever advance has been made in knowledge, in freedom, in wealth, and in the arts of life has been in inverse proportion to her power. Whoever, knowing what Italy and Scotland naturally are, and what 400 years ago they actually were, shall now compare the country round Rome with the country round Edinburgh, will be able to form some judgment as to the tendency of Papal domination. The descent of Spain, once the urst among monarchies, to the lowest depths of degradation—the elevation of Holland, in spite of many natural disadvantages, to a position such as no Commonwealth so small has ever reached, teach the same lesson. Whoever passes in Germany from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant principality; in Switzerland, from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant canton; in Ireland, from a Roman Catholic to a Protestant county, finds that he has passed from a lower to a higher grade of civilisation. On one other side of the Atlantic the same law prevails. The Protestants of the United States have left far behind them the Roman Catholics of Mexico, Peru, and Brazil. The Roman Catholics of Lower Canada remain inert, while the whole continent round them is in a ferment with Protestant activity and enterprise. The French have doubtless shown an energy and an intelligence which, even when misdirected, have justly entitled them to be called a great people. But this apparent exception, when examined, will be found to confirm the rule; for in no country that is called Roman Catholic has the Roman Catholic Church, during several generations, possessed so little authority as in France.—“History of England,” Vol. I., p. 47.

Gleanings from Many Fields.

I.

Man’s Redemption the Joy of Angels.

[The following is a sermon by the Rev. Alexander Stewart, Cromarty, of whom we give a brief sketch in this issue. The sermon is on the text—”Which things the angels desire to look into” (I. Pet. i. 12), and gives one an excellent idea of the power of this able minister of the New Testament to publish the everlasting gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.]

TO the man of the world the salvation of the gospel is one of the most insipid and uninteresting subjects imaginable. His apathy appears in his treatment of the Holy Scriptures, the great record of salvation. The Bible is either read very carelessly, or it is altogether neglected. He sits with listlessness under the preaching of the gospel, indifferent often as to what is said, whether it be true, or whether he understand it or not, and this want of interest, or even a more positive feeling, is but too apparent in the manner in which he makes light of the invitation to the gospel feast, offering the most frivolous excuses for not complying with it. His understanding being “darkened through the ignorance that is in him, and blinded likewise by the god of this world, he is alienated from the life of God.” The gospel is hid to him in respect to its glory; he has no apprehension of its transcendent excellence, and no desire to participate in its blessings. Even those of us into whose hearts the light of the glorious gospel has in some measure shined are likewise but too apt to be infected with the same spirit. Surrounded consciously by invisible objects, which are continually soliciting our attention, and yet living among men by whom the great salvation is habitually neglected, we are ever in danger of being overpowered by these unceasing influences, and so of relapsing into a state of spiritual slumber.

There are various ways in which this spirit might be opposed. We might address your fears in the language of the mariners to Jonah—”What meanest thou, O sleeper? Arise, call upon thy God, if so be that God will think upon thee, and that thou perish not.” Or we might exhibit to your hopes the great things which God had promised to those who love Him; and ask you, if a kingdom which cannot be moved, a crown which fadeth not away, be such trifles as not to be worth making some exertion to obtain them? Or the words of God might more be re-echoed in your hearing, and the demand made, whether he has not a right to

expect attention from his creatures. These might prove powerful considerations; but the one suggested by the words before us is different, and very peculiar. As Paul speaks (Rom. xi. 11) of provoking his brethren, the Jews, to jealousy by the Gentiles, i.e., of exciting by a holy emulation amongst the Jews that earnest attention and interest in the gospel which was felt by the Gentiles, so would we endeavour to provoke you to jealousy, by the conduct of angels, beings of a totally different order from us. Learn, then, that the salvation of the gospel, the grace manifested to you, the incarnation of God’s eternal Son, the life of holiness and beneficence which He led, the miracles which He performed, the grace and truth which, like the dew from heaven, dropped from his lips, the indignities which were offered Him, the hardships to which He submitted, the complicated and unparalleled sufferings which He endured, the decease which He accomplished at Jerusalem, His resurrection from the dead, His ascension into heaven, the outpouring of the Holy Ghost, the conversion of sinners, the gospel dispensation, the restoration of the Jews, the calling in and fulness of the Gentiles, the millennial glory, the resurrection of the dead, the consummation of all things at the final judgment—all these, the sufferings of the Messiah, with the glories which were to follow, insipid and uninteresting as they may be to man, for whom the mighty interposition was made, are, notwithstanding, things which angels desire to look into.

There seems to be an allusion in the words of the text to the situation and position of the cherubim in the Holy of Holies, a species of reference to the typical service of the law which is perpetually occurring in the New Testament (Exod. xxv. 17-20).

In further illustrating the interesting fact stated in the text, viz., that the sufferings of the Messiah and the glories which resulted from His sufferings, are a subject which strongly engages the attention of angels, it may be proper, in the first place, to advert shortly to some things respecting the nature, character, and employments of these celestial spirits; and then, in the second place, to enquire what in the mysteries of redemption, as a manifestation of divine glory, makes the subject so deeply interesting to angels.

1. Notice briefly some particulars relating to the nature, character, and employments of angels—who and what are those beings of whom the apostle speaks? This is evidently necessary in order to understand the passage, and properly to feel its force. If those who

discover a deep interest in a subject be adduced as a recommendation of the study of such subject, and an inducement to imitate in this their example, it is obvious that very much indeed depends on the character of these persons. If it is a theme in which persons of exalted genius and of most excellent dispositions find peculiar delight, the inference is that the subject itself must be peculiarly excellent and interesting.

Angels are beings of very high mental and moral endowments. The Scriptures give us sufficient reason to believe that they are in order superior to us. The Psalmist, in the eighth Psalm, although speaking of man as having dominion over this lower world, and crowned with glory and honour, still acknowledges, in the same passage, that he “is lower than the angels.” The destruction of Sennacherib’s army, the pestilence which wasted Israel, the death of the first-born in Egypt, and other similar events ascribed in Scripture to the ministry of angels, afford an appalling idea of that strength in which the Psalmist tells us in another Psalm they “excel,” so that there seems to be more than a mere poetical imagination in the idea of our great poet that they can arm themselves with the very elements by which we are surrounded. Satan, who is described in Scripture as possessed of peculiar subtlety and power, although an instance of a sadly perverted mind, affords a high idea of the intellectual superiority of angels. The apostle speaks not of fallen angels, but of those who kept their first estate, and who are holy beings, and are expressly called in the Scriptures holy angels.

Such being the high order of intelligence to which angels belong, attend next to the very peculiar means of improvement which they possess. They dwell in heaven, in God’s immediate presence, the place of His glory, and the habitation of His throne. The angels see God’s face. In this expression there is a reference to the practice of Eastern kings, who admitted none but their chief counsellors and favourites into their presence. This is an honour which is not granted to any sinful mortal man, for God said to Moses, “Thou canst not see my face, for no man can see me and live.” But in the conclusion of the Book of Revelation we are told that God’s servants shall in heaven see His face. They shall enjoy a full manifestation of His glory, and be admitted, in a certain degree, into His counsels.

Now, this is a privilege which the angels have always enjoyed. They are represented as the immediate attendants of the King Eternal. When Isaiah saw

in vision the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, the seraphims were in attendance, and worshipping, they cried one to another, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts.” “God’s chariots,” says the Psalmist (Lxviii. 17) “are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels; the Lord is among them, as in the holy place.” “Take heed,” said Christ (Matt. xviii. 10) “that ye despise not one of these little ones, for I say unto you, that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.” In the Book of Revelation, where we have a glimpse of the heavenly world, we see that the holy angels, surround the throne of God, they contemplate His glory, and they “do His commandments, hearkening to the voice of His word” (Ps. ciii. 20). They are angels of light, and they dwell in the world of light. No human being was in existence when God created the heavens and the earth, man saw not the wonders of creation. Hence God demands of Job (xxxviii. 4), “Where was thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who laid the corner-stone thereof?” But when God prepared the heavens, and set a compass on the face of the deep, when thick darkness was the swaddling-band of the infant world, and when He commanded light to shine out of darkness, these sons of the morning were present, and sang together, these elder sons of God shouted for joy.

Not only did angels witness the wisdom, power, and goodness manifested in creation, they have likewise witnessed the events which have since taken place in this world. They saw our first parents happy in Paradise, and afterwards expelled for their transgression. They saw Noah and his family enter the ark, and the avenging waters of the deluge sweep away an ungodly world. They saw Abraham leave his kindred and his father’s house, and wander a stranger and a pilgrim in the land of promise. They saw Israel oppressed in Egypt, delivered by a strong hand and an outstretched arm, led through the wilderness, and settled in Canaan. They have seen the rise and fall of Empires, and interesting events of which we are in absolute ignorance. And we must take into account the advantage they had in understanding these events as a part of the dispensation of providence to them. This knowledge of the facts must be correct, because they witnessed them, and likewise had access to know

their causes. While not pretending to define the extent to which angels are acquainted with the purposes of divine providence, it is unquestionable that they have not only extensive knowledge of historical matters of fact, but likewise of the connection of such events with the general dispensation of providence as illustrative of the divine character. They are behind the curtain which conceals the invisible world from our view. What we call the light of revelation seems to be but some scanty rays of the noonday splendour in which they dwell penetrating this curtain.

Now, apply these remarks to our present subject. The angels, we have seen, are superior beings of very high powers of mind. They are furnished likewise with most ample means of improvement and of increasing their knowledge. At what time they were created we are not told; but as Adam was tempted by a fallen angel, there can be no doubt they were created before man. For these six thousand years at best, then, with minds which were never darkened by sin, free from all the imbecility of infancy or of age, or the infirmity of mortality, with the wide field of creation, and with a most extensive view of the dispensations of providence before them, God Himself being their instructor, they have been contemplating his character, as illustrated by the wonders which He is continually performing. And what, think you, is the subject which rivets the attention of these exalted spirits? It is the sufferings of Christ, and the glorious consequences. The stable at Bethlehem, and the garden of Gethsemane, and the hill of Calvary, furnish illustrations of the divine character which they find nowhere else. And the angels, the inhabitants of heaven, leave its glories for a season. to learn, from what is taking place in the earth, new songs of adoring praise.

Is Calvinism Doomed?

BY REV. PROF. A. A. HODGE, D.D.

IT is now-a-days frequently predicted in high places that the distinctive doctrines of Calvinism are doomed. The future is uncertain, the rôle of the prophet is unprofitable and unbecoming. But the history of the past stands fast. The doctrine of predestination, with its associated system of truths, has had a wonderful history. All world movers have believed it surely and taught it clearly—Paul, Augustine, all the

Reformers without exception. During the eleven hundred years which elapses from the time of Augustine to Luther, all the best of the Schoolmen, all the great missionary movements, the revivals of true religion, the extension of popular education, and all great healthy political reforms, had their common inspiration in Augustinian theology. All the great national movements in France, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and Britain in the era of the Reformation, and all the great national leaders, as Luther, Zwingle, Calvin, Cranmer, and Knox, were distinctively Augustinian, and were rooted in predestination. The most moral people of all history, the Puritans, Pietists, Huguenots, Reformed Dutch of Holland, and German of the Palatine, and the Scotch and Scotch-Irish of Ulster and the United States, were all Calvinists. Calvin, William of Orange, Cromwell, and the Presbyterian and Congregational founders of the government of the United States, and all the great creators of modern civil liberty, were Calvinists. All modern provision for universal education sprang from the Scotch parochial school and the New England College. The patriots, free-state makers, martyrs, missionaries of all the modern era, have been, in nine hundred and ninety-nine parts out of the thousand, distinctively Calvinist.

This history is glorious and secure, past all contradiction. It is natural also—a natural outgrowth of consequences out of principles. Predestination exalts God, and abases man before God. It makes all men low before God, but high and strong before kings. It founds on a basis of eternal rock one absolute Sovereign, to whose will there is no limit, but it levels all other sovereigns in the dust. It renders Christ great, and the believing sinner infinitely secure in Him. It establishes the highest conceivable standard of righteousness, and secures the operation of the most effective motives to obedience. It extinguishes fear, it makes victory certain, it inspires with enthusiasm, it makes both the heart and arm strong. The Iron-sides of Cromwell made the decree of predestination their base; hence they never lost a battle, and always began the swelling chorus of victory from the first moment that the ranks were formed. The man to whom in all the universe there is no God is an atheist. The man to whom God is distant, and to whom the influence of God is vague and uncertain, is an Arminian. But he who altogether lives, moves, and has his being in the immanent Jehovah is a Calvinist.

Short Gleanings from Thomas Brooks, the Puritan.

1. A Crucified Christ.

“LET the thoughts of a crucified Christ,” said one, “be never out of your mind. Let them be meat and drink unto you. Let them be your sweetness and consolation, your honey and your desire, your reading and your meditation, your life, death, and resurrection.”

2. No Paradise for Man in this World.

Ah, believer, it is only heaven that is above all winds, storms, and tempests; God did not cast man out of paradise that he might be able to find himself another paradise in this world. The world and you must part, or Christ and you will never meet. “Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”

3. To-day the Acceptable Time.

There is no time yours but the present time, no day yours but the present day; therefore, do not please and feed yourselves with hopes of time to come; that you will repent, but not yet; and lay hold on mercy, but not yet; and give yourselves up to the Lord next week, next month, or next year; for that God who promised you mercy and favour upon the day you return, has not promised to prolong your lives till that day comes.

4. Pride.

Pride grows with the decrease of other sins, and thrives by their decay. Satan is subtle; he will make a man proud of his very graces—he will make him proud that he is not proud.

5. The Acceptable Sacrifices to God.

It is very observable that the eagle and the lion, those brave creatures, were not offered in sacrifice unto God, but the poor lamb and dove, to denote that God regards not high and lofty spirits, but meek, poor, contemptible spirits God will accept.

6. Christians Borrowing Spectacles.

It is a sad thing when Christians borrow spectacles to behold their weak brethren’s weaknesses, and refuse looking-glasses wherein they may see their weak brethren’s grace.

7. Three Precious Things.

Three things are called precious in the Scriptures:—“Precious faith” (II. Pet. i. 1); “precious promises” verse 4); “precious blood” (I. Pet. i. 19). All our precious mercies twine to us in precious blood, as may be seen by comparing these Scriptures together, Rom. v. 9; Eph. i. 7; Col. i. 20; Heb. ix. 7, 14; x. 19; I. John i. 7; Rev. i. 5. It was an excellent saying of Luther, “One little drop of this blood is of more worth than heaven and earth.”

8. Zeal.

Zeal is like fire; in the chimney it is one of the best servants; but out of the chimney it is one of the worst masters. Zeal, kept by knowledge and wisdom in its proper place, is a choice servant to Christ and the saints; but zeal not bounded by wisdom and knowledge is the highway to undo all.

9. Sleeping Christians Easily Overcome.

The strongest creature, the lion, and the wisest creature, the serpent, if they be dormant, are as easily surprised as the weakest worms. So the strongest and wisest saints, if their graces be asleep, if they be only in the habit and not in the exercise, may be as easily surprised and vanquished as the weakest Christians in all the world; witness David, Solomon, Samson, and Peter. Every enemy insults over him that has lost the use of his weapons.

10. Living upon Christ’s Righteousness.

All the sighing, mourning, sobbing, and complaining in the world, do not so undeniably evidence a man to be humble as his overlooking his own righteousness, and living really and purely upon the righteousness of Christ. This is the greatest demonstration of humility that can be shown by man.

11. The Sins a Christian Should Fear.

Those sins shall never be a Christian’s bane that are now his greatest burden. It is not falling into the water, but lying in the water that drowns. It is not falling into sin, but lying in sin that destroys the soul. If sin and thy heart are two, Christ and thy heart are one.

12. God’s Gold.

God scatters giftless gifts, the honours, riches, and favours of this world, up and down among the worst of men; but as for His gold, His Spirit, His grace, His

Son, His favour, these are jewels that He only casts into the bosoms of saints, and that because He dearly loves them.

13. The Grace of Christ.

“But go your way, tell His disciples and Peter that He goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see Him, as He said unto you” (Mark xvi. 7). O admirable love! O matchless mercy! Where sin abounds, grace does superabound. This is the glory of Christ, that He carries it sweetly towards His people, when they carry themselves unworthily towards Him. Christ looks more upon Peter’s sorrows than upon his sin; more upon his tears than upon his oaths. The Lord will not cast away weak saints for their great unbelief, because there is a little faith in them. He will not throw them away for that hypocrisy that is in them, because of that little sincerity that is in them. He will not cast away weak saints for that pride that is in them, because of those rays of humility that shine in them. He will not despise His people for their passions, because of those grains of meekness that are in them. A wise man will not throw away a little gold because of a great deal of dross that cleaves to it; nor a little wheat because mixed with much chaff; and will God?

Blameless and Harmless.

O, how unwise is wrath in argument! What shallowness of mind is indicated by an assumption of infallibility! And is not this a common feature of controversy? Does it not indicate, and even prove, a lack of that knowledge of self and of others which is the parent of humility, courtesy, wisdom? And does not this shallowness of mind lead persons who differ to misunderstand each other, and greatly to magnify their differences? There may very rightly be real and even vital differences; yet, surely a wise regard presiding over the pen and pervading the argument will prevent discourtesy and wrath. It is both unjust and mean to insist upon forcing on an opponent a meaning or an opinion he expressly, repeatedly, and positively disclaims. It is true that to exaggerate or misrepresent the views of an opponent makes arguing more easy; but a real regard for truth will make a writer generous—at least just—as well as earnest. And it cannot be considered just to hold a man up to opprobrium because of the mud which only the throwing makes to stick to his clothes.

WILLIAM WILEMAN.

Searmoinean leis an Urramach Elongbas MacMhaolain.

Corintianach, viii. Caib., 9 Rann.

Searmoin VII.

(Air a leantuinn o t.-d. 267.)

A nis, bha ‘n Tighearn Iosa Criosd co maith ri gheal-ladh. An uair a dh’ fhoillsicheadh e anns an fheoil, chioimhliion e ‘n lagh, agus thug e dioladh do cheartas Dé an àite a phobuill; agus le so a dheanamh, phaigh e ‘m fachan gus an fheòrling dheireannach. Cha ‘n fheud neach sam bith a bhi saoibhir, co fhad ‘s a tha e fo ual-lach trom do fhiachaibh nach comasach e féin air chor sam bith a dhioladh; ach ‘s e so an cor anns an robh am pobull a ghabh Criosd mar Fhear-saoraidh air a chùram; agus air an aobhar so, bha e feumail dha-san chum an saoradh o chionta agus o pheanas, dioladh iomlan a thabb-airt air an son; ach so ni nach robh furasda dheanamh, so ni chosd suim mhòr do ‘n Tighearn Iosa Criosd; gidh-eadh, ghràdhaich e a phobull air a leithid a dhoigh as gu robh e toileach iad-san a shaoradh, iad-san a dheanamh saoibhir agus sona, ciod air bith a chosdadh e dha féin. Bha e toileach e féin irioslachadh, e féin a dheanamh bochd, fhuil féin a dhortadh, seadh, a bheatha féin a leag-adh sios mar éric air an son. O cia iongantach gràdh Chriosd d’ a phobull! Cia mòr an t-suim a chosd e dha-san an saoradh o chionta agus o thruaighe, agus an toirt gu seilbh air beatha mhaireannach!

1. Tha ‘n Tighearn Iosa Criosd a deanamh a phobuill saoibhir le bhi gan tarruing d’ a ionnsuidh féin, agus gan aonadh ris féin, trid beò-chreidimh. Tha iad uile bochd a thaobh’ naduir, saor o fhireantachd, falamh do ghràs, agus ‘nan coigrich do naomhachd, “as eugmhais dochais, agus gun Dia anns an t-saoghal;” agus tha iad uile buan-achadh anns an staid bhrònach, uireasbhuidheach so, gus am bheil iad air am dúsgadh, air am beothachadh, agus air an tarruing a dh’ ionnsuidh Chriosd trid oibreachadh an Spioraid Naoimh. ‘S ann anns an uireasbhuidh, agus ullamh gu báisachadh le gort, a bha ‘m mac struidheach, an uair a phill e dh’ ionnsuidh athar agus ‘s ann bochd, uireasbhuidheach ‘nam faireachduinn féin, a tha fior iom-pachain ann gach linn a teachd a dh’ ionnsuidh Chriosd; ach co luath ‘s a tha iad a gabhail ri Criosd, agus air an ceangal ris tre chreidimh, tha iad air an deanamh ‘nan

luchd-compairt d’ a shaoibhreas, do ‘n t-saoibhreas dorannsachaidh do bheannachdaibh spioradail a cheannaich e air son a phobuill le a umhlachd, le fhulangasaibh, agus le bhochdainn anns an fhàsach so.

Tha atharrachadh staid, a’ measg dhaoine, gu tric gan toirt gu saoibhreas agus onoir anns an t-saoghail so féin. Feudaidh bean bhochd a bhi air a deanamh saoibhir, le bhi air a pòsadh ri duine saoibhir. ‘S ann ‘na h-uireas-bhach bochd a thainig Rut o thir Mhoibh gu tìr Israel; ach an uair a bha Rut air a ceangal anns an dàimh phòsda ri Boas, a bha ‘na dhùine beartach, agus urramach ann an Israel, bha i féin air a h-àrdachachadh gu saoibhreas agus urram. Air an amhuil cheudna, ‘n uair a tha peac-aich chiontaich air an iompachadh, agus air an ceangal ri Criosd tre chreidimh, tha iad air an deanamh ‘nan luchd-compairt do shaoibhreas Criosd, agus do gach sochair agus urram a bhùineas do chloinn Dé. Cheannaich Criosd oighreachd bhreagh nach gann d’ a dheiscioibluibh uile. “Is leo na h-uile nithe: ma se Pòl, no Apollos, no Cephas, no ‘n saoghail, no beatha, no bàs, no nithe a ta làthair, no nithe a ta ri teachd, is leibhse iad uile,” deir an t-Abstol Pòl, “agus is le Criosd sibhse, agus is le Dia Criosd.”

1. Tha ‘n t-iomlan do dheiscioibluibh Criosd air an deanamh ‘nan luchd-compairt do shaoibhreas a ghràis. “As a lánachd-san,” a dubhairt an t-Abstol Eoin, “fluair sinn’ uile, agus gràs air son gràis.” Tha ionnhas do-thraoghaidh do bheannachdaibh spioradail air a thasgaidh suas anns an Tighearn Losa Criosd, agus tha ‘n t-ionnhas so air a thasgaidh suas, cha ‘n ann a mhaini air son a bhuan-nachd féin, ach air son buannachd a phobuill, chum a bhi air a roinn orra-san o linn gu linn, anns gach àm feuma. ‘S e Criosd tobar slàinte na h-eaglais, an tobar o ‘m bheil gach beannachadh spioradail a sruthadh a dh’ ionnsuidh bochdan a shulaigh, agus tha gu leòir anns an tobar so chum an deanamh uile saoibhir agus soña gu siorruidh. Ach ged tha ‘n t-iomlan do dheiscioibluibh Criosd ‘nan luchd-compairt do shaoibhreas a ghràis, cha ‘n e ‘n tomhas ceudna do ghràs a th’ aig na h-uile, oir tha e soilleir gu bheil tomhas is àirde aig cuid na cuid eile; tha cuid do chlann Dé anns gach linn a cinneachdainn, a fàs, agus a giulan toraidh ni ‘s pailte gu mòr na cuid eile. Tha gràs-an cuid beathail, làidir, agus gniomhach, an uair a tha gràsan cuid eile amhunn mar a chuilte bhruite, na mar lion na caol smuid. Ach ciod is aobhar do ‘n eadar-dhealachadh so a tha measg pobull an Tighearn, a’ measg clann an aoin teaghlach? Co aig am bheil a choire gu bheil cuid co amhunn ann an gràs, co icsal ann am mis-neach, agus fo chaoile co mòr, an uair a tha cuid eile

sultmhor le deadh bhláth, agus a toirt mór mheas a mach, Tha e ‘na ni cinnteach nach ann aig Criosd a tha coire na h-anmhuinneachd, agus na caoile so. Tha Criosd co saoibhir ann an gràs ‘s a bha e riamh, agus co toileach, air an là ‘n diugh, a bhi compartachadh a ghràis, a bhi leas-achadh uireasbhuidh a phobuill, ‘s a bha e anns na linn-tibh a chaidh seachad. Co, uime sin, is coireach, gu bheil mòran diubh co anmhunn, agus uireasbhuidheach? O a chreidmhich bhochd, anmhunn, na fàg a choire air Criosd. Rannsaich gu géur, agus gheibh thu choire ann do chridhe, agus ann do chleachdainnibh féin. Tha thu ag altrum a pheacaidh, a toirt fàrdoch do d’ nàmhaidibh, do na h-ana-miannibh truaillidh a tha cogadh an aghaidh t-anama. “Cuir an aghaidh an Diabhuil, chum ‘s gu ‘n teich e uait.” “Céus an fheoil, maillle r’ a h-an-tograidh agus a h-ana-miannaibh.”—”Cuir deadh chath a chreid-imh,” gus an croicnnaich thu do thurus air thalamh. Thig fathasd le dànachd gu righ-chaitir nan gràs, agus dean cruaidh-spàirn ann an ùrnuigh, gus am faigh thu ‘n tomhas sin do ghràs a ni thu saoibhir agus sona. Iarr agus gheibh, buail aig dorus na tròcair gus am fosgailair dhuit. Tha gu leòr ann am Criosd a leasachadh t-uireasbhuidh, a dh’ ath-nuadhachadh do neart, gu leòir chum an lag a dhean-amh “laidir mar Dhaibhidh, agus tigh Dhaibhidh mar aingear an Tighearna.”

1. Tha ‘n t-iomlan do mhunntir shaorta an Tighearna fa’ dheòidh, air am togail os ceann gach bochdainn agus trioblaid, agus air an toirt gu seilbh air saoibhreas neo-chaochuidheach ann an saoghal nan spiorad. “Thig iad,” deir am fàidhe, “gu Sion le caithream, agus aoibhneas siorruidh air an cinn, gheibh iad gairdeachas, agus aoibhneas, agus teichidh bròn agus osnaich air falbh.” Bha Criosd bochd ann an staid irioslachaidh, agus ri linn a bhochdainn cheannaich e saoibhreas siorruidh air son a phobuill, agus tha e’gan toirt uile gu làn sheilbh air an t-saoibhreas so ann an rioghachd nèimh. Anns an t-saoghal a ta làthair, tha iomad trioblaid aca, tha aobhar aig mòran diubh a bhi gu tric a gearan gu bheil an creid-imh lag, an gràdh fuar, agus an dòchas fann; seadh, gu bheil “uile do àreamh ag iadhadh mu ‘n timchioll,” gidheadh tha iad nan oighreachaibh air sonas buan, agus mar an ceudna, anns an t-slighe a tha treòrachadh a dh’ ionnsuidh an t-sonais so. Ach anns an t-saoghal so, tha iad mar oighreachaibh fo aois, mar oighreachaibh ann an atharrachadh dreach; cha ‘n eil e fathasd soilleir ciod a blith-eas iad, gidheadh tha Dia, trid fhocail agus a spioraid, gan glanadh, agus gan ullachadh air son na h-oighreachd a tha neo-thruailidh, agus neo-shalach, agus nach searg as,

a tha air a coimhead ‘s na neamhaibh dhoibh. Tha ‘n Tighearn Iosa Criosd a toirt iomad beannachadh luach-mhor d’ a phobull anns an t-saoghal so féin; ach cha ‘n ‘eil aig a mhuinntir is mo sonas ‘nam measg air thalamh, ach ceud thoradh an t-sonais a tha feitheamh orra ann an rioghachd nèimh. “Cha d’ rainig iad cheana, agus cha ‘n ‘eil iad fathasd foirfe” ann an naombachd, no ann an sonas. Ach an deigh dhoibh saoghal na trioblaid so fhàgail, agus dol a dh’ iommsuidh an dachaidh bhuan, “cha bhi acras orra tuille, no tart ni ‘s mo, agus cha mho a bhuaileas a ghrian orra, no teas air bith. Oir beathaichidh an t-Uan a tha ‘m meadhon na righ-chaitthreach iad, agus treoraichidh e iad gu beò-tbobraichibh uisge, agus tiormaichidh Dia gach dèur o ‘n suilibh.” “Cha ‘n fhaca sùil, cha chuala cluas, agus cha d’ inntrig e ann an cridhe duine smuaineachadh,” meud an t-saoibhreas do ghloir agus do shonas a tha air a thasgaidh air son muinntir shaorta an Tighearna, anns an t-saoghal ri teachd.

(Ri leantuinn.)

Creideamh Mar Mheadhon Aonaidh Ri Criosd.

LEIS AN URRAMACH BHALTAIR MARSHALL.

Dh’ fhoillsich Dia dà mheadhon tre bheil an Spiorad a’ coimhlonadh aonadh diamhair agus co-chomunn eadar sinn agus Criosd.

Is e aon diubh soisgeul gràs Dhé anns a bheil Dia a’ foillseachadh saoibhreas do-rannsachaidh Chriosd, agus Criosd annainn, dòchas na glòire (Eph. iii. 8; Col. i. 27), agus anns a bheil e ‘g ar cuireadh agus ag àithne dhuinn creidsinn ann an Criosd a chum slàinte. Tha e ‘g ar misneachadh le gealladh saor na slàinte sin dhaibh-san a chreideas air (Gniom. xiii. 38, 39; Rom. x. 9, 11.) Is e so meadhon Dhé fhèin leis a bheil e taigse—leis a bheil e cur Chriosd d’ar n-iommsuidh a chum ar beannachadh le slàinte (Gniomh. iii. 26). Is e so ministrealachd an Spioraid agus na fireantachd. Tha creideamh a’ tighinn tre a bhi ag èisdeachd so, agus air an aobhar sinn is e am meadhon mòr tre bheil sinn air ar gneamhuinn ann an Criosd agus Criosd air a dheilbh annainn. Tha am facal am fagus duit, facal a’ chreidimh, anns a bheil Criosd e fhèin gu gràsmhor ‘g a irioslachadh fhèin gu thighinn faisg oirnn, air ehor ‘s gu faod sinn a thighinn thùge ann an sin, gun a dhol na ‘s fhaide, ma ‘s miann leinn a bhi air ar n-aonadh ris (Rom. x. 6-8).

Is e am meadhon eile creideamh a tha air oibreachadh annainn leis an t-soisgeul. Is e so am meadhon leis a bheil sinn a’ gabhail—am meadhon a’ tha sinne a’ cleachdadh tre bheil aonadh air a choimhliionadh eadar sinn agus Criosd—le bhi gabhail Criosd d’ar n-ionnsuidh le uile lànachd.

Tha dà ghniomh a’ chreidimh theàrnaidh: a bhi creidsinn firinn an t-soisgeil; agus a bhi creidsinn ann an Criosd, mar a tha e air ghealltuinn dhuinn gu saor a’ns an t-soisgeul air son slàinte iomlan. Leis an darna ghniomh tha e a’ gabhail ris a’ mheadhon tre bheil Criosd air a thoirt do ar n-ionnsuidh, agus leis an fhear eile tha e gabhail ri Criosd e fhéin agus a shlàinte anus na meadhonan. Tha an darna fear coltach ris a’ chich no ris a’ chopan a’ns a bheil am bainte no am fion, agus am fear eile coltach ri deoghal a’ bhainne as a’ chich, no ri òl an fhiona as a’ chopan. Agus feumaidh an dà ghniomh so a bhi air an deanamh gu cridheil, le gràdh gun cheilg do ‘n fhirinn, agus mian air Criosd agus air a shlàinte os cionn nan uile nithean. Is e so ar càil spioradail gu bhi ag ithe agus ag òl Criosd, biadh na beatha. Cha ‘n ‘eil a’ cheud ghniomh ‘g ar n-aonadh ri Criosd air ball, a chionn gu bheil e croichnachadh air a’ mheadhon-giùlan—an soisgeul. Gidheadh, is e gnìomh teàrnaidh a tha ann, is e air a dheanamh gu ceart, a chionn gu bheil e a’ cur an anam ann am fonn gu bhi a’ deanamh an ath ghniomh, tre bheil Criosd e fhéin air a ghabhail a steach a’ns a’ chridhe. Cho cinnteach ‘s a tha neach a’ creidsinn an t-soisgeil le gràdh agus le tlachd cridhe, mar an fhirinn as ro-birdhearc, tha e mar an ceudna a’ creidsinn gu cridheil ann an Criosd a chum slàinte. Cuiridh iadsan d’an aithne ainn an dòchas ann (Salm ix. 10). Uime sin tha an Sgriobtur a’ labhart mu chreidimh teàrnaidh, an darna h-uair mar nach biodh ainn ach a bhi creidsinn an t-soisgeil (Rom. x. 9), agus an uair eile mar a mhàin a bhi creidsinn ann an Criosd (Rom. x. 11).

Tha cuid a’ dol am mearachd a thaobh flor àite a’ chreidimh ann am beatha nan gràs. Cha téid sinn air seachran dh’a thaobh ma chumas sinn air chuimhne gur e am meadhon tre bheil sinn a’ gabhail Criosd ‘n ar cridheachan, agus tre bheil againn naomhachd cridhe agus slighe, cho maith ri fireanachadh, tre aonadh agus co-chomunn ris-san. Tha ni no dhà a dhearbhais sin:

1. Tre chreidimh tha seilbh dha-rìreadh againn air Criosd e fhéin, agus cha ‘n e mhàin air maithseamas ach air beatha, agus mar sin air naomhachd. “Ionnus gu ‘n gabh Criosd còmhnuidh ann ‘ur cridhe tre chreidimh (Eph. iii. 17). Tha sinn beò do Dhia, gidheadh cha ‘n e sinne, ach Criosd a tha beò annainn, tre chreidimh Mhie Dhé (Gal. ii. 19, 20). ?

2. Tha an Sgriobtur a’ cur an céill gu soilleir gu bheil sinn a’ gabhail Chriosd tre chreidimh—’g a chur umainn—air ar freumhachadh ann—a’ gabhail an Spioraid, maith-eanas peacaidh, agus oighreachd maillle riusan a tha air an naomhachadh. Tha e a’ samhlachadh so le ithe agus ól, ni tha ciallachadh a bhi creidsinn ann an Criosd. Tha esan a tha a’ creidsinn ann an Criosd ag ól uisge beò, no a Spiorad. Is e Criosd aran na beatha. Is biadh gu firinneach fheoil. Mar sin tha sinn a’ gabhail comhnuidh ann an Criosd, agus Criosd annainne, agus tha a’ bheatha mhaireannach againn.

3. Tha Criosd, le uile shlàinte, air a thoirt gu saor tre ghraas Dhé dhaibh-san uile a chreideas ann. Is e an aon chumha a tha air saor thiodhlac: Gabh agus sealbhaich. Is leor taigse shaor de Chriosd gu còir a thoirt dhuit gabhail ri Criosd agus a shlàinte mar do chuid fhéin. Agus a chionn gu bheil sinn a’ gabhail ri Criosd tre chreidimh mar shaor thiodhlac faodaidh sinn a mheas gur e creidimh am meadhon—an làmh—leis a bheil sinn ‘g a gabhail.

4. Chaidh a dhearbadh a cheana gu bheil a’ bheatha spioradail gu léir agus naomhachd air an tasgaidh suas anns an lànachd a tha ann an Criosd, agus air an co-pàirteachadh ruinn tre aonadh ris-san. Is e ceud obair gràis anns a’ chridhe a bhi coimhlionadh an aonaidh sin ri Criosd.

5. Tha creideamh ‘n a mheadhon ro-fhreagarrach air a bhi ag aonadh ar n-anam ri Criosd; agus air nàdur nuadh agus naomh a thoirt do ‘n anam; agus air cleachdadh naomh tre aonadh agus co-chomunn ris. Tha e a réir gné a’ chreidimh—is e sin earbsa chridheil ghràdhach ann an Criosd air son a shlàinte uile, is e air a ghealltuinn gu saor—gu ‘n lòbadh e sinn, agus gu n’ deanadh e comasach sinn air a bhi cleachdadh naomhachd, a chionn gu bheil e gabhail a steach earbsa gu bheil sinn, tre Chriosd, marbh do pheacadh agus beò, do Dhia, agus gu bheil ar seann duine air a cheusadh (Rom. vi. 2-4), agus gu bheil sinn beò tre ‘n Spiorad (Gal. v. 25), agus gu bheil maitheanas peacaidh againn agus gu re Dia ar Dia-ne (Salm xxxi. 14), agus gu bheil againn anns an Tighearna fireantachd agus neart, tre bheil sinn comasach air na h-uile ni a dheanamh (Isa. xlv. 24; Phil. iv. 13).

An deigh sin thug e iad do lios, far an robh iomadh gnè luibhean; agus thuirte, Am faic sibh iad sin uile? Thuirte a Bhana-chriosduidh ris, Chi. An sin thuirte e a ris, Faicibh mar tha na luibhean eugsamhuil an airde, am feothas, an dath, am faile, agus buaidh; tha cuid is fearr na cheile; agus fanaidh iad far an suidhich an Garadair iad, gun chuir a mach air a cheile.—Turus a’ Chriosduidh.