(Continued from page 182).
But at length deliverance came in a way worthy of the source, at once honouring the means of divine institution, and showing the sovereignty of grace—encouraging to the diligent use of means, yet manifesting that in the work of salvation it must be “the right hand and holy arm of the Lord that gets the victory.”† The half-yearly Communion in the congregation at Stratherrick, came round, and the fearers of the Lord in the place were encouraged in prayer for the poor prisoner, by His ministering servants and people who came up to the solemnity. Deep sympathy was called forth, and fervent prayer, “that the command,” as one beautifully expressed it, “might come forth from the White Throne for the loosing of prisoners!” At the same time, some passages in the discourse delivered, without any individual allusions, were illustrative of the striking providential dispensation going on. In one sermon, by a father in the ministry, the case of Christians under extreme spiritual trials, was illustrated from the passage, Isa. xxvii. 13, in its spiritual bearings. “The great trumpet” of the gospel when it penetrated to the conscience, and drowned the sound of threatened wrath recalled the outcasts, and restored them to the spiritual “worship” of the “Lord in His holy mountain.” And so it proved with Elizabeth. Though shut out from all the outward means of grace, the Spirit of grace had access by His secret, almighty influences, to loose her bonds!
†The poor paralytic, recorded in Matth. ix., was not delivered by the faith of the four who carried him, much less by his own, when he was perhaps in too low a condition to exercise any; yet the Saviour was pleased to acknowledge their weak efforts; “when Jesus saw their faith,” He spake the words that conveyed pardon and healing.
On Monday of the Communion her attendant left her in charge of another, in order to go to church. On returning in the afternoon she found her as when she left, in the same raging despair. In a few minutes after, however, she noticed a slight softening of her voice. “Do you know me then?” she eagerly asked. “Yes,” said Elizabeth, “it is dear I—C—.” The poor girl burst into tears of joy at the change. A little after, one coming in heard Elizabeth repeat to herself the passage, so descriptive of the Lord’s merciful return, as made known to his people—”The voice of my Beloved! behold He cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills!” In the evening, two ministers who came in were cheered to find her composed, though much exhausted, acknowledging the goodness of God, and the preciousness of the blood of Christ, and joining in worship as they sang “He healeth the broken in heart, he tenderly upbinds their painful wounds.” To a friend who spoke to her of Christ—”Oh what a mighty One!” she exclaimed. She was now ready to take whatever nourishment might be deemed proper, and every mercy seemed surpassingly great. Her affectionate attendant said once to her, “much has the enemy tried you.” “Oh, it is nothing,” she replied, “compared with the exceeding weight of glory it works out.” “It will make the crown the brighter,” said the other. “Yes,” said she, “and the melody sweeter.” Truly, here might it be said, “Great is thy mercy towards me, and thou hast delivered my soul from the lowest hell.”
Though the soul received “strength and cure,” her bodily frame could not stand much longer. She lingered six days in peace and hope, recognising her Christian friends, and expressing, a few minutes before her death, her longing to be taken home by the Saviour. She died Sabbath morning, the 16th of March, 1856. Her remains bore a striking aspect of sweet, triumphant repose.
It was singular how effectually, by this clear and conspicuous deliverance, the Lord “rolled away the reproach” which the enemy doubtless expected to be left on the cause of religion by her extraordinary state. She died with the full measure of respect recovered, in which she had in her best days lived. The funeral was distinguished for numbers and solemnity. The minister of the congregation gave public thanks in prayer, that the Lord had “loosed this daughter of Abraham, whom Satan had bound” for a time, and warned the assembled people that the first family who should have a wedding with those wicked customs of payment, drinking and dancing, after so many warnings from the Word and from Providence, would be lifting the standard of the kingdom of darkness in Stratherrick. It remains to be seen whether the warning will be respected or slighted.
Her friends put the following inscription on her grave in Boleskine Burying-Ground, Foyers:
“Here rest the remains of
Mrs. ELIZABETH FRASER,
Who died at Tomvoit, Stratherrick,
On the 16th March, 1856, aged 67 years.”
“Brought in early life to follow the Lamb,
She passed, once and again,
Through a dread furnace of temptation,
From which she emerged
To a life of Christian usefulness,
And, finally, to a peaceful death.
Through the blood of the covenant.
(Zec. ix. 11.)
This stone is erected by friends
In token of affectionate remembrance
of
‘A mother in Israel.’
The memorials of this humble disciple will not be appreciated aright, unless the reader has the same allowance for human infirmity, in the subjects of divine grace, which he is instinctively led to make, if conversant with living Christians. Among all the family of God on earth, none but the Divine Head ever exhibited perfection; and yet, of the members in their state of infirmity, it is said, “Be ye followers of them who through faith and patience now inherit the ‘promises.'” As a faithful portrait, Christian biography ought not to suppress such blemishes when forming features of the character, especially when “the beauty of the Lord” is seen resting on them, turning even their infirmities into fresh illustrations of redeeming grace.
The case conveys warning to careless, light-minded persons, to beware of practices for which the Lord so sharply smote one of His people, only for countenancing these in a slight degree—Psal. xcix. 8—”Thou wast a God that forgavest them, though thou tookest vengeance on their deeds.” If such vengeance be taken on His redeemed people here for compliances with the world, what vengeance must await those who go to eternity with such practices unpardoned and unrepented of! It is not the practices in themselves that are so heinous, though there is demonstrably much evil in them, apart from their connections. It is the system of dissipation and ungodliness, of which they form inseparable parts, that makes balls and intemperate festivities, ordinances of the kingdom of darkness. “The ball,” says the late Rev. J. Macdonald, of Calcutta, in a valuable tract on the subject, “may be called one of the world’s sacraments, by which it binds men in bonds, one to another, for its own maintenance, just as the Church of Christ by its solemn rites.” The same fatal effect is produced alike by the more refined forms in use among the rich and fashionable, and by the grosser among the poor. It may be added that perhaps the most emphatic practical proof of the evil of balls and dancing parties is presented in the frequent hardening effect produced on any religious persons who are induced to join. Many who had entered upon a hopeful religious profession, on going once to a ball, have, in no long time, thrown off the fear of God, so as ultimately to make a mock of religion. Such a result, which is the more common one, is far more awful than for one to fall into remorse and even despair.
Finally, with reference to the examples related of dreadful spiritual temptation and deliverance. Profane and irreligious persons despise all deep religious distress as madness, and we need not say a word to induce them to alter their opinion, which is connected with a secret or open contempt of the Bible itself. But a word to those who believe in the reality of religion. While the life we have sketched exhibits, as might be expected, national or Celtic peculiarities, we hope none of our readers will be so narrow-minded as to ascribe this particular to any peculiarity of the religion of the Highlands. It was not among Highlanders that the great delineator of religious character, Bunyan—the Shakespeare of Theology—drew such portraits as the man in the iron cage: Faithful in the hands of Moses, or Christian and Hopeful in the dungeon of Despair. Nay, He who “knows our fame,” and His own methods of dealing with His people, has given ample warning of such dangers in His word: warnings, from time to time fulfilled, not among Celts more than among Saxons, not in the ardent Eastern temperament more than in the cooler and more phlegmatic modern European, but wherever there is earnest, life-pervading religious sentiment and experience, encountering and giving way before the temptations of the devil and the world. Personal religion is compared to a building, the stability of which must be tried by storms; and temptation is one of these storms. The work of the foolish builder (Luke vi. 49), not being founded on the Rock, fell completely, although specious, “and the ruin of his work was great.” Of another class, who truly rest on the alone foundation, but store up what is perishable, “wood, hay, and stubble” (1 Cor. iii. 12-15), we are told that their work shall be burnt, but themselves shall be saved, “yet so as by fire”—a warning undoubtedly referring to personal religious character in general, as well as to the particular case of erroneous religious teachers specified in the passage. The writer was informed lately of a person in the middle ranks of society, very like Elizabeth in zeal, but wanting perhaps in spiritual contrition and self-denial, who fell ultimately into similar distress; and died in despair. An unstable, perishable superstructure of religious character and profession, and a consequent unpreparedness for the dreadful onsets of the enemy, are likely to result, wherever certain elements of Christian character and experience are wanting, such as those indicated in the following passages:—
Take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand in the evil day.
Blessed are the poor in spirit.—I will leave in the midst of thee an afflicted and poor people, and they shall trust in the name of the Lord.
Therefore, brethren, we are debtors, not to the flesh to live after the flesh. For if ye live after the flesh, ye shall die; but, if ye through the spirit, do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live.