“A Sacrifice of Peace-offering.” Lev. iii. 1
“On earth peace!” Thus angels’ lips announce the Saviour’s birth. “On earth peace!” It comes, it lives, it thrives with Christ. “On earth peace!” Such is the olive-branch, which these brief lines would wave. “On earth peace!” Great Spirit, plant this happy inmate in each reader’s heart!
God strives in every way to bring poor sinners to His peaceful sway. Before the worlds, eternal councils planned the way of peace. When enmity began, grace hastened to reveal it. A stream of prophecy rolled the news onward. And here a graphic ordinance portrays it. A model stands to show the parts and working of the reconciling scheme.
Some anxious soul sighs for felt peace with God. What shall be done? God smooths the way. His voice declares, let the appeasing victim be now
brought. Peace rightly sought shall surely be obtained.
Now mark this victim. It may be male or female. It may be taken from larger cattle, or from sheep or goats. Lev. iii. 1, 6, 12. This is permission of unwonted breadth. The prince — the peasant — from richest pastures, or bare mountain’s brow, may readily obtain the expiating means. The purport is both gracious and distinct. Where is the man, who would have peace with God? No barrier keeps him back. No distant search is needed. The appointed offering touches his threshold. The soul at every moment may find Christ. The hand may grasp Him at each turn. He is the nearest object to the rich man’s hall. He sits beside each Lazarus at the gate. He is ever present — ever willing. No sinner pines in wretchedness, because the Peace-offering is beyond his reach. Behold me — take me — is the burden of the Gospel-cry.
But from whatever flock the male or female came, one test must prove it. It must be free from fault. A blameless type proclaims the blameless Lord. He is the essence of pure excellence. He was made flesh without corruption’s taint. His walk on earth was holy, as His throne in heaven. If but one speck had soiled Him, it would have turned God’s smile into a frown. To have bought favour for Himself would then have cost His all. But now His hands are sinless; therefore they can take our sins. He needs no payment for Himself; and so can buy our peace.
Such are the marks of the Peace-offering. God next directs the offerer to touch its head. Lev. iii. 2.
This act denotes the transfer of all guilt. The burdened thus rolls off his load. The lightened shoulder thus receives relief.
This is the happiest exercise of faith. It knows, that Christ is called, and comes, and dies, to take His people’s guilt. It sees Him ever ready to receive the weight. With rapid step it ventures near. With eager hand it casts off misery. The unburdened conscience grasps deliverance.
Believer, why should you lie in dust, oppressed and crushed by fears? Why are your eyes so dull to see heart-ease? Hark! our Peace-offering presents Himself. Christ calls, Give Me your every sin: transmit the mass to Me: I will remove it, so that God no more shall find. Wrong not your soul: obey. There is no peace, while sin-distress weighs down. There is all peace, when the huge mountains sink. The sting extracted leaves no pain.
The victim is then slain. Lev. iii. 2. Here is the wondrous fact, which is the light of types, and rites, and prophecies, and solemn texts. Here is the brightest sunshine of the Bible-page. Death is denounced, as the desert of sin. But, through amazing grace, it falls on Christ. He claims the dying place. He gives His life to the avenging stroke. Each blood-besprinkled
altar preached a peace thus bought. It told of satisfying agony, and reconciling blood, and an accepted surety. It showed the price all paid — the wrath removed — the curse endured — the flock all free.
Reader, you often hear and read this blessed truth. Say, is this peace-procuring work the perfect rest of your reposing soul? Do you sit down beneath the cross and sing, The enmity died there?
The slaughtered animal was then divided. The best — the choicest of the parts, were placed upon the burning altar. Devouring flames preyed on them. Lev. iii. 3, 4, 5. Another portion was the priest’s own due. Lev. vii. 31, 32. The rest supplied the offerer with food.
Here is a wondrous feast. Three parties are regaled. O my soul, you too are called. The Gospel-banquet has an open door. Each hungry soul may find a welcome seat.
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God claims His share. All, which seems rich and precious, is first brought to Him. The holy fire reduces it to dust. It is the fuel of the raging blaze. Thus Jesus meets the fierceness of Jehovah’s wrath. Thus every attribute is filled, as an overflowing cup. Justice exacts its dues. Anger, and righteous vengeance, and pledged truth have large demands. But are they not content, when they have revelled at this costly board? God’s name is honoured in a God-man slain: and heaven takes up a hymn of peace. Reader, in faith place Christ between God and your sins, and then, live, joy, work, die in the sweet knowledge, that God’s scales are full.
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Provision is then made for those who ministered. The altar-servant never wants. They, who leave all for God, have all in God. Zeal in His cause is richest gain. The Lord is never debtor unto man. Strength spent for Him is strength recruited with the best supplies. Toil in His vineyard is the wealth of wealth. His service is a golden mine. It is a field, where harvests always wave. Each happy workman finds his wages in his work.
But mark what constitutes the priestly food. It is part of the self-same victim, in which God delights. The dying Jesus regales heaven. The dying Jesus regales earth. But the refreshment mainly cheers the pastor’s heart. Here, then, we clearly learn, that ministers derive their health — their vigour — their success, from the grand truth of peace through Christ. They cannot work with zeal — with unction — and with fervent love, who have not tasted this substantial feast. Knowledge of reconciling grace is the grand pulpit-power. It warms the heart. It girds the loins. It arms with courage, which no difficulties check. It brings an energy, which cannot flag.
Ye Ministers, live at this board. Joy in the victim, who slays wrath, and opens wide the gates of peace. And then strong in the Lord, and tranquil
in His love, go toil, strive, pray, till thronging numbers crowd the banquet-house, where Christ is All.
- The offerer then takes his part and eats. Here is a teaching fact. We see the essence of true faith. It finds soul sustenance in Jesu’s work. Light in the head will not give peace. Lips may be fluent to depict Christ’s praise, while all within is death. The outward handling of truth lulls not the conscience-fears. More is required. Christ to be peace must be received within. The hungry soul must draw sweet juices from the dying Lamb. Wretched are they, who mourn, and pine, and starve, when such supplies are near!
A solemn warning is adjoined. The legally unclean might not partake. Lev. vii. 20. Impurity excluded from the board of peace. Means are provided to cleanse stains. But means neglected raise exclusion’s bar. They are cast out, who seek the wedding with no wedding-robe. Mat. xxii. 13.
Reader, this precept loudly testifies, that none taste peace, who wilfully offend. Sin willingly retained must plunge into a troubled sea. Can Israel prosper, while accursed goods are hid? Can he gain health, who lingers in infected air? Shall he, who sows the whirlwind, reap a calm? The path of evil leads from peace. The love of evil hides God’s smile.
But the believer hourly mourns, that sad corruption follows, as his shade. He loathes iniquity, but still its roots are deep, and constant outbreaks prove its life. His thoughts, his words, his works fly, as vile broods from a vile nest. May he not venture to the Peace-offering feast, while this indwelling evil is his plague? The ordinance foresees the case: and thus provides. Unleavened cakes must fill the offerer’s hand. Lev. vii. 12. This leaven is the emblem of the tainting principle. Its presence teaches, that sinners may draw near, although the hated trouble be not dead.
Reader, If you have any light from heaven, you see poor nature’s proneness to transgress. While flesh is flesh, its tendencies are base. This malady should not obstruct your way to peace. Nay, let it prompt you to more vigorous effort. When the wolf prowls, the lambs leave not the fold. Your restless foe should drive you to the fort of peace.
We next are told what special motives prompted the Peace-offering. They were two-fold: a sense of gratitude for mercies past, and a desire to bind the heart by vow. Lev. vii. 12, 16. He, who would praise — he, who would vow, thus sought the altar. Here are spiritual dealings, which cannot be performed, until the soul knows peace with God. These are plants, which only bloom in reconciliation’s sunshine. These are barks, which only glide on tranquil waves.
Believer, let not this teaching be in vain. There is no moment, when the inner man should not flow forth in boundless streams of praise. Count — but the number baffles thought — count, if you can, the crowning mercies, which fill high your cup. Each mercy should awaken songs of love.
Next, weigh your mighty debts to God. He ever lives, pouring His blessings on your head. Each binds you to devote your all to His one service. His throne should ever hear your self-surrendering vows.
But mark, you cannot praise nor vow apart from peace in Christ. These are the acts of an accepted child. This is free converse with a reconciled Father. Praise only lives, where peace abounds. He only consecrates himself, who fears no wrath. You must draw near in Christ, or you can never serve.
When the Peace-offering came, as token of thanksgiving, it must be eaten before morrow’s light. When it bare witness to a voluntary vow, the rule was still the same. The feast must be without delay. No remnant on the third day might be touched. Lev. vii. 15, 16. Who can hear this, and not discern the tenderness of grace? God would not leave one moment’s space between the cross and peace. The Gospel-cry is, Rejoice, Rejoice. Why tarry? Why linger? Why hesitate? What mean those miserable doubts? Wherefore such trembling and reluctant steps? God spreads a feast of peace, and bids His guests sit down to instant joy.
Believer, hasten to obey. To-day, this hour, receive the gladness of the proffered blessing. There is some lurking pride — some seeds of unbelief in slow acceptance of this gracious boon.
Reader, this offering was ordained “to guide your feet into the way of peace.” Come then to the standard of the Prince of Peace. Is not His kingdom peace above, within, around, for ever? The Spirit cries, “Of the increase of His government and peace, there shall be no end.” Is. ix. 7. Hear, and the Lord of Peace Himself will give you peace, always by all means. 2 Thess. iii. 16.
I will give you one mark of the difference between a man or woman who is content in a natural way, and one who is content in a spiritual way. Those who are content in a natural way overcome themselves when outward afflictions befall them and are content. They are just as content when they commit sin against God. When they have outward crosses, or when God is dishonoured it is all one to them; whether they themselves are crossed, or whether God is crossed. But a gracious heart that is contented with its own affliction will rise up strongly when God is dishonoured.
Burroughs
The Tongue is a Fire
One Sabbath afternoon, Miss Slander’s pastor preached a very plain and faithful sermon from the text, “The tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity; so is the tongue among our members that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature, and is set on fire of hell.” (James iii. 6). He pretty strongly urged the doctrine, that a tongue badly governed was an injury to its owner, and mischievous to the whole community. Miss Slander was greatly offended, and on the following morning called on the pastor, and charged him with being “personal in his preaching.” “Why do you think so?” asked the worthy pastor. Somewhat off her guard, she answered, “You know, sir, you meant me.” “Why do you think so?” was his repeated inquiry; and when she was somewhat calmed down, the worthy man, instead of explaining away his sermon, or assuring his hearer that he did not mean her, spoke of the dignity and responsibility of the servant of God, and exhorted her, as she clearly felt the suitability of his preaching to her character and conduct, to go home and humble herself before God on account of her sins, and seek grace henceforth to live to His glory. She went greatly exasperated to brother Gravity, to tell him of her troubles, who only said at the end of her narrative, “Well, I don’t know, but I can’t think the pastor meant me.” For once she failed in her attempt to injure the pastor, for all to whom she complained thought that due reproof had been very skilfully administered.
She always professed to be sorely grieved at any improper action of the pastor, the office-bearers, or any of the other brethren and sisters, but some how or other took special care that all their imperfections should be fully known. It was really astonishing, too, to see how readily she acquired information of new members coming into the church, and of candidates for fellowship. It was said, indeed, that some persons actually declined uniting with the church, because of the mischief they were afraid she might do them. And yet she always assured her friends that no one more earnestly desired the prosperity of Zion than herself. — Christian Treasury
There is an infinite variety of the works of God in an ordinary providence, and yet they all work in an orderly way. We put these two things together, for God in his providence causes a thousand, thousand things to depend one upon another. There are an infinite number of wheels, as I may say in the works of providence. Put together all the works that ever God did from all eternity, or ever will do, and they all make up but one work, and they have been as several wheels, that have had their orderly motion to attain the end that God from all eternity has appointed.
Burroughs
‘Devout and Honourable Women not a few’
1. Lady Catherine Hamilton, Duchess of Atholl. (adapted from ‘Ladies of the Covenant’ by Rev. James Anderson).
Catherine Hamilton was the second daughter of William, third Duke of Hamilton, and Anne, Duchess of Hamilton. She was born at Hamilton Palace in 1662, and in 1683 was married to John, Lord Murray, eldest son of the first Marquis of Atholl, afterwards the first Duke of Atholl.
She enjoyed the great blessing of an eminently pious mother, who sought to imbue her mind with divine truth and the fear of God. Under this training, she greatly profited, acquiring early an extensive and accurate knowledge of the Scriptures and the distinguishing truths of the Gospel. That such knowledge did not rest merely in her head, but was deeply impressed on her heart, is clear from the early proofs of genuine piety she began to show.
Near the beginning of her diary, the following entry appears: ‘O my soul! Remember Friday, 18th November, 1681, and Thursday, 24th, wherein the Lord thy God was pleased to give thee sweetest consolation in Himself, and some assurance of His reconciled countenance at Hamilton.’ She was then nineteen years of age, but her husband, in a note on this passage, states that he had heard her say that she had given herself up to God some years before. Christ she then chose as her Saviour, God as her portion, the divine glory as her chief end, the divine law as her infallible guide, and from her God and Saviour she sought and found grace and strength to proceed in the Christian course. During the period of the Persecution, her sympathy was with those good men who, for defending their religious rights and liberties, were banished to foreign lands, or thrown into dungeons, or executed on scaffolds. After the Persecution, she was greatly concerned that the parishes of Scotland should be supplied with devoted evangelical ministers, and urged her husband to use his influence in procuring the settlement of pious and able ministers. That her prayers and counsel were blessed by God is clear from a diary entry of May 9th, 1691, referring to the settlement of a minister in Falkland: “O Lord, help me always to remember Thy goodness to me. Thou hast many times prevented me with Thy mercies, and disappointed my fears, and now again, lately, I have had another proof of it. Thou only knowest what a burden it was to me, the fear I was
in that my husband should have obstructed a good minister being settled in this place, and now, glory to God that has given me to see him the only instrument of bringing a godly minister to this place. O Lord, grant he may in the first place reap the benefit of his ministry to himself, that he, finding the good of it, may yet be more instrumental in bringing in good ministers to the places he has interest in.”
During this period of residence at Falkland Palace, her husband was threatened with consumption, a trial which produced in her a great struggle between natural affection and submission to the Lord’s will. “Thou knowest,” she writes on May 17th, 1691, “that I have this day promised, if Thou wilt be pleased to spare and recover him, to endeavour through Thy strength to live more watchfully and holily; but ah, Lord, how unable I am for anything that is good, if Thou assist me not. True is Thy Word, which Thou hast said, holy Jesus, that without Thee we can do nothing. (John 15:5). But I shall be able to do all things, even the hardest, if Thou assist. Therefore this day, with all my soul, I beg of Thee, that Thou wilt give me entire submission to Thy holy will and pleasure, whatever it shall be: that even if Thou shouldst see fit to take away the desire of mine eyes, I may lay my hand on my mouth and be silent, since it is Thy doing, who canst do nothing wrong. And be with me in the midst of my troubles, and support me under them, as Thou hast been pleased to do this time and heretofore, for which I desire to bless and magnify Thy Name, who canst abundantly make up the loss of all earthly comforts. Be Thou in place of all unto me, blessed Jesus, and let never any idol be in my heart, where Thou oughtest to be in the chief room. But Thou hast not only allowed of a lawful love to my husband, but commanded me to have it, therefore it is lawful and my duty to pray for him. Spare him, O Lord, for Christ’s sake, and bless him with long life in this world, that he may glorify Thee in his generation, and be an instrument of doing good to the people among whom Thou hast set him, and be a blessing to his family. O God, hear me and grant unto me, for Christ’s sake, that the shaking of this rod over my head may be a means to bring me back to my duty, which it will be, if Thou grant Thy blessing with it, which I beg for Thy Son’s sake, for whose sake alone I wish to be heard.” She afterwards records her gratitude to God for her husband’s recovery.
A further diary entry, made in the summer of 1697, prior to a communion Sabbath at Hamilton on July 19th, reveals something of her exercises in view of commemorating the Lord’s death: “O my soul, bless God the Lord, that ever He put it into thy heart to seek Him, for He
has promised that those who seek Him shall find Him. This day I was reading the 16th chapter of John, verse 23 and 24: ‘Verily, verily, I say unto you, whatsoever he shall ask the Father in my Name, He will give it you, etc.’ O gracious promises. Then I began to think what it was I would ask of God. The thought that immediately occurred to me was, Jesus Christ to dwell in my heart by faith and love. I thought if God would put it in my offer to have all the universe; with all the glory, honour, riches, and splendour of it, I would rather have Christ to be my King, Priest, and Prophet, than have it all.” At the communion itself, she was greatly refreshed and comforted, especially by a remark of the minister’s during his table address: “What is your request, and what is your petition?” which brought to her mind her previous exercise, and enabled her further to accept Christ as her covenanted God and Saviour.
In September, 1697, Lady Hamilton and her husband moved to Kensington, London, in order to attend the Court. While court duties left her fewer opportunities for private meditation than formerly, her diary affords ample evidence that much of her time was spent in prayer, self-examination and careful study of the Scriptures. That she was also one who wrestled often at the throne of grace for the salvation of her children is evident from the occasion of the departure of her eldest son to Oxford University in May, 1698. Recording in her diary her desire that he would not only become accomplished in human learning but holy in heart and life, she adds: “Fulfil to me, O Lord, the 127th and 129th Psalms, that my children may be Thy heritage, and the fruit of my womb Thy reward.”
The Duchess’s last illness came unexpectedly, during a visit to Hamilton Palace to see her mother, towards the close of 1706. Though attended with the tenderest care from her mother and friends, her condition worsened during the early days of the new year, but throughout all her illness, she maintained a tranquil resignation to the Lord’s sovereign will. Her confidence as a guilty sinner in the great propitiation and the everlasting covenant remained unshaken, enabling her to triumph over the terrors of the last enemy and to anticipate her own future blessedness with assurance.
About two hours before her death, the doctor attending her informed friends of her dangerous condition, upon which Mr Findlater, a minister of the parish, was sent for. On being told of his presence at the palace, she answered: “Tell him I cannot speak; desire him to pray.” After prayer, he encouraged her against the terror of death from the nature of God’s covenant with her and her interest in it. Though regretting her
inability to speak as she would have liked, she found strength to confess her frequent renewal of her covenant with God, the great comfort she then enjoyed from His covenanted mercies, and her calm and bright hope of endless happiness, frequently adding in her pain: “O pray, pray, that I will have a little ease, that I may declare God’s goodness to me.”
Having left the room, the minister returned to ask how it was with her, to which she replied: “Very weak — and dying.” Some words which he quoted, and which she repeated after him, gave her great comfort: “My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever.” She then asked him to pray, especially for enough strength to declare the Lord’s goodness to her. He then asked her whether she desired to live, or to die and be with Christ, which is best of all, to which she replied: “That is best of all indeed.” During his following prayer, she was heard to say, after hearing of the covenant being ordered in all things and sure: “That is all my salvation and all my desire:” These were the last words she spoke in Mr Findlater’s hearing. “Though her body was greatly pained,” he noted, “yet her soul seemed full of the joy of the Lord, which is unspeakable and full of glory.”
The minister again left the room, upon which her mother asked the Duchess if she had anything to say to her. “Dear Mother, be kind to my Lord,” she replied. These were Lady Hamilton’s last words.
When Mr Findlater entered the room for the third time, the Duchess spoke no more, but immediately he had again prayed with her, she fell asleep in Jesus.
The Duke, who, to his great grief, was absent at the time of her death, on account of his attendance at the last Parliament of Scotland in Edinburgh, recorded himself this trying dispensation at the close of his wife’s diary: “It hath pleased the great and only wise God, Who doeth what He sees fit in heaven and in earth, to take from me to Himself, my dear wife Catherine, Duchess of Atholl, and in her my chiefest earthly comfort. She died at Hamilton, 10th of January, 1707 . . . I desired Mr Findlater to put in writing what she said concerning the state of her soul; which shows that she died in the same holy disposition and frame in which she had lived.”
Everyone that gets to the throne, must put his foot upon the thorn. The way to the crown is by the cross. We must taste the gall if we are to taste the glory.
McCheyne
A Minister of God
The Late Rev. D.N. MacLeod, Ullapool
On a fine summer evening in 1959 an observant visitor to Ullapool might well have taken note of the tall erect figure of a man, easily recognisable as a minister, making his way with measured tread to the church in the centre of that picturesque village. Had such a one followed him there, a closer look would have revealed a man, then in his eighty-seventh year, but yet one whose dignified bearing commanded the respect and attention of his hearers before one word was uttered by him. His text that Thursday evening was: “Ni lamh na leisge bochd; ach ni lamh nan dichiollach beartach.” (He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack hand: but the hand of the diligent maketh rich.”) Proverbs 10:4. The few who were gathered there heard him lay solemn emphasis on their need of working out their own salvation with fear and trembling, yet in absolute dependence on a sovereign God. According to his doctrine there was not the remotest hope of mere Gospel hearers making Heaven of it without, as he put it, moving a finger. That here was an old disciple in the school of the Redeemer, ripe in grace and in Christian experience would have been the irresistible conviction borne in upon the mind, if the mind were at all enlightened as to the reality of the things of the Spirit of God. A passing glance at the notice board would have conveyed the information that this was the Free Presbyterian Church and the venerable minister, the Rev. D. N. Macleod. All who knew him will bear testimony to the fact that he was indeed one who feared God above many; that in life he was himself diligent in making his calling and election sure; and they fully believe that in death an abundant entrance was ministered unto him into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
With his death in 1967 the last surviving male member of the Free Presbyterian Church who was also a member in the pre-Declaratory Act Free Church passed away. When that historic stand for the defence of the faith was made in 1893, he was employed in an Edinburgh office. He was then in his twenty-first year, having been born at Eval in North Uist on the 29th September 1872. His father was at the time employed there as a shepherd but, having decided to return to his native Skye, it thus came about that this member of his family while yet very young came to Ose in the parish of Duirinish, where he was to be brought up. The visitor to the new cemetery at Ullapool will see from the inscription on his tombstone that he is remembered as one who feared the Lord from his youth. In keeping with this, he himself in his old age, was wont to recall occasions
when as a very young boy he used to go apart on his own, stretching himself out on the grass, longing to be able to pray and yet not knowing how to. Even then he seems to have stood in awe of God. On leaving school he came to work in a grocer’s shop in Portree and it was then, when about 16 years of age, that he “passed under the rod” and was brought “into the bond of the covenant.” One day on entering the Free Church in Portree, the minister, a Mr Reid, was in the act of reading the fifth chapter of John’s Gospel and had come to the words, “And ye will not come to me that ye might have life.” At the same time the Holy Spirit applied them effectually to the soul of the young man who had just then come within hearing, convincing him of his sin and misery. It does not seem to have been long however, before his mind was by the same blessed Agent enlightened in the knowledge of Christ, who also renewed his will and persuaded and enabled him to embrace Jesus Christ freely offered to him in the Gospel. He discovered that his life was hid with Christ in God. That that experience had remained fresh in his mind was evident over seventy years later as he divulged it to two of his brother ministers who had called to see him. As a portion of the 103rd Psalm was sung and especially the third verse:
“All thine iniquities who doth
most graciously forgive:
Who thy diseases all and pains
doth heal, and thee relieve.”
His heart he told them afterwards, warmed anew to the words for they were spoken first to his soul when standing outside that grocer’s shop in Portree. There, in that portion, he had cast his first anchor.
When and where he made a public profession we are not able to say. In 1893 when the time of testing came he appears to have been in Edinburgh and unhesitatingly cast in his lot with those to whom the defence of the Gospel in Scotland had been committed. That choice he never regretted. As a ripe disciple his mind was yet crystal clear on these issues, the passing of the years having in no way diminished their importance in his view. The step taken then he regarded as a God-honouring one and although he saw others go back he himself was not to flinch or change his mind in regard to the matter. In Edinburgh he shared the burdens of those who in these early days endeavoured to maintain the distinctive witness of the church in the midst of many difficulties. In his old age he loved to speak of those times and he cherished the hope that someone would sometime write up the early history of the Edinburgh congregation. The minister, the Rev. Alexander Stewart, left in 1905 taking with him to the present Free
Church the majority of the congregation and the church building as well. Were it not for the loyal support of, among others, Highland girls in domestic service in Edinburgh the congregation could not have, humanly speaking, survived. But survive it did through the noble self-denying efforts of those who were wholeheartedly dedicated to it and it was not long, despite all setbacks, before it began to flourish again. That church building is now, we understand, in use as a garage.
Again we regret that we cannot give any account of his exercise of mind in connection with his call to the ministry but judging by the tenor of his life afterward we may safely conclude that it was not without much heart-searching that he came to decide where the path of duty lay. After the usual prescribed course of study he was formally licensed to preach the Gospel at a meeting of the Southern Presbytery on the 1st of June 1908. On the evening of the same day and in accordance with the special instruction of the Synod, the report of the event tells us, he was ordained to the office of the holy ministry and set apart in the meantime for the performance of the work of a missionary in the Canadian Mission. Five days later, he left Scotland for his first sphere of labour and before his return again in October 1909 he was destined to cover many miles, preaching the word, in season, out of season, and not without tokens of the Divine favour as may be gathered from his letters and interesting, informative reports. We find him grieving over the widespread disregard shown to the fourth commandment. His remarks on this are worthy of attention in the light of the height to which Sabbath desecration has risen in our day. “Without a doubt,” he writes to Rev. Neil Cameron, “Christian lands are fast losing the blessed heritage of the Lord’s Day, and the day may not be so very far distant when the Spouse of Christ will read with lamentation and bitter weeping a meaning into the words of her Lord not till then dreamed of: ‘The day will come when ye shall desire to see one of the days of the Son of Man and ye shall not see it’.”
In Manitoba he witnesses the wheat harvest and not, it would seem, without profit. “After the wheat is threshed, the straw, being of little value, is burned. While watching several huge piles of it burning in the distance at night, that passage of Scripture came into my mind with much light and force, giving me an insight into its meaning that I had never had before, and making a great impression on me at the time, as I so vividly realised the certainty and awfulness of its fulfilment: ‘Whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor and gather the wheat into the garner; but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire’.” As mentioned above he came back to Scotland in October 1909, but the
following July found him departing again for the Canadian Mission. More or less the same ground as before was covered before his return at the end of November. With this his labours in Canada were ended: in his own words, the whole was now committed to the Lord “until the eternal day break and the shadows, mists and clouds of time shall vanish for ever.”
(To be continued).
Gathan Gloir na Diadhachd
Leis an Urr. Eideard Pearce
(Air a leantuininn bho t.d. 217)
Caib. VI.
Iomadh codhùnadh Sgriobturail bho bhi gabhail beachd gu’m bheil Dia neo-chaochlaidheach.
Air dhuinn mar sin a bhi cur an ceill, fhosgladh, agus a dhearbhadh, neo-chaochlaidh Dhé, ‘s e ar n-ath obair a bhi tarruig co-dhùnaidhean feumail bh’uaithne; agus gu dearbh thà iomadh nì cudthromach agus gle shònraichte ri bhi air a tharruig bho’n a chaidh a ràdh. Mar a thà.
- Faic ann an so oirdheirceas ghlòrmhor agus iomlanachd Dhé, agus gu’m bheil E neo-chriochnach eader-dhealaichte bho gach creutair ann a’ mòrachd agus an glòir. Tha Dia, a luchd mo gràidh, anns gach dòigh, bho’s ceann, agus eader-dhealaichte, bho’n a creutairean. ‘S e ghlòir ro-oidheirc, II. Peadar i. 17. Agus cha mhòr gu’m bheil nì anns am bheil oirdheirceas ghlòrmhor agus iomlanachd a dealradh ni’s soilleire, nì’s comharaichte, agus nì’s barraichte, na’n a neo-chaochlaidh-eachd. Tha na creutairean uile caochlaidheach, ann an aon rathad na rathad eile. Tha na neamhan agus an talamh, le airneis an aon agus an aon eile, caochlaidheach, “theid as daibhsan, ach mairidh tusa; fasaidh iadsan uile sean mar aodach; mar thrusgan caochlaidh tu iad, agus bithidh iad air an caochladh.” Salm cii. 26. Tha’n latha tighinn anns am bi iad uile air an caitheamh as, II. Peadar iii. 10, 11. Tha daoine mar an ceudna caochlaidheach, tha iad gu dearbh na’n caochladh annta fein, mar gu’m b’eadh, tha iad caochlaidheach ‘n an nàdur, agus caochlaidheach ‘n an suidheachadh; caochlaidheach ‘n an spioradan, agus caochlaidheach ‘n an dòighibh, caochlaidheach ‘n an comhairlean, agus caochlaidheach ‘n an
comhfhurtachdan, caochlaidheach anns na h-uile ní a ní iad. “Neo-sheasmhach mar uisge, cha toir thú buaidh . . .” Gen. xlix. 4. Tha daoine mòr caochlaidheach, Salm lxii. 9. Seadh tha daoine maith caochlaidheach, tha na daoine is fearr aig a’ maitheas anns an t-saoghal so caochlaidheach. “Gu deimhin is diomhanas gach dune d’a fheabhas, sin r’a rádh, buailteach do dh’atharrachadh, Salm xxxix. 5. Cha’n eil daoine an diugh an ní bha iad an dé, cha mhotha bhitheas iad a’ màireach a’ ní bha iad; a’ màireach a ni bha iad an diugh, seadh, tha daoine ann an diugh, agus a’ màireach cha’n eil iad ann, oir tha iad cho caochlaidheach. Seadh tha na h-ainglean, na h-ainglean beannaichte, iad fein caochlaidheach. “Feuch, as a sheirbhisich cha’n earb e; agus as leth aingle cuiridh e aimaideachd.” Iob iv. 18, ‘s e sin, le gu’m bheil e comasach, ged nach eil e gu h-achdadh a gabhail àite, do bhrigh gu’m bheil atharrachadh agus aimeadachd ‘n an nàdur, ged nach eil na’n suidheachadh. Tha, a luchd mo ghràidh, comas tuiteam anns na h-ainglean, tha mì ciallachadh ‘n an nàdur. Tha chuid is fearr de chreutairean, annta fein, buailteach do na h-atharrachaidhean is miosa. Tha na h-ainglean glòrmhor, ‘n an nàdur, comasach air peacachadh, gu dearbh ‘n an suidheachadh, cha’n eil iad, air dhoibh a bhi air an daingneachadh ann. Tha iad an dà chuid ‘n an naomhachd agus na’n subhachas, le gràs an dara cùmhnanta, ach ‘n an nàdur tha iad. Uime sin tha’n rádh sin aig aon dhe’n a fir-sgoile; ge b’e creutair, a tha neothuiteamach, agus nach urr URRAINN peacachadh, cha’n eil so aig bh’uaith fein, na na nàdur, ach bho thiodhlac saor ghràs. Mar sin tha na h-uile creutair caochlaidheach, ach tha Dia neo-chaochlaidheach, tha E gu bràth a’ ní ceudna. Agus O cia cho glòrmhor a tha so dha dheanamh! Agus cia mar a tha so a deanamh eadar-dhealachadh, eadar E agus na creutairean uile ann an iomlanachd agus ann an glòir? ‘S e’n fhìrinn a th’ann gu’r oirdheirceas agus iomlanachd glòrmhor a tha’n so ann fein, agus tha so a deanamh dealradh agus glòir air oirdheirceasan agus iomlanachdan Dhé; oir is e so (mar a tha neach a labhairt) buadh coltach ris an t-streang shioda air a tarruig tre slabhruigh neamhnaidean, a ruith tre’n uile, agus a cur glòir air na h-uile. Cha bhiadh naomhachd Dhé a leith cho glòrmhor mar a biodh gu’r e naomhachd neo-chaochlaidheach a th’ann; cha bhiadh a ghràdh a leth cho milis, mar a biodh gu’r e gràdh neo-chaochlaidheach a th’ann; cha bhiadh a cheartas agus fhearg a leth cho uamhasach, mar a biodh gur e ceartas agus fearg neo-chaochlaidheach a th’annta. Gu dearbh, ciod a bhiadh ann an aon dhe uile bhuadhan ann an coimeas mar a biodh iad neo-chaochlaidheach? O! ionnsaich-mid a bhi faicinn agus a bhi moladh Dhé anns an oirdheirceas agus anns an iomlanachd so aige.
(R’a leantuininn.)