Donald came out of a maze, where he had been wandering in great peace.
"I wa.s.s not hearing that the moon had anything to do in the matter.
Oh no, but he wa.s.s bound hand and foot by a mighty man."
"Wha was bund? A"m no juist followin" ye, Maister Menzies."
"The Prince of the power of the air. Oh yes, and he shall not be loosed till the occasion be over. I hef had a sign." After which conversation on the weather languished.
Perhaps the minister fared worse in an attempt to extract a certificate of efficiency from Lachlan Campbell in favour of a rhetorical young preacher.
"A fery nice speaker, and well pleased with himself. But I would be thinking, when he wa.s.s giving his images. Oh yes, I would be thinking. There was a laddie feeshing in the burn before my house, and a fery pretty laddie he wa.s.s. He had a rod and a string, and he threw his line peautiful. It wa.s.s a great peety he had no hook, for it iss a want, and you do not catch many fish without a hook. But I shall be glad that you are pleased, sir, and all the elders."
These were only pa.s.sing incidents, and left no trace, but the rebuke Donald gave to Burnbrae will be told while an elder lives. One of the last of the old mystical school, which trace their descent from Samuel Rutherford, had described the great mystery of our Faith with such insight and pathos, that Donald had stood by the table weeping gently, and found himself afterwards in the manse, he knew not how.
The silence was more than could be borne, and his former responsibility fell on Burnbrae.
"It wes wonnerful, and I canna mind hearing the like o" yon at the tables; but I wes sorry to see the Doctor sae failed. He wes bent twa fad; a" doot it"s a t.i.tch o" rheumatism, or maybe lumbago."
Johannine men are subject to sudden flashes of anger, and Donald blazed.
"Bent down with rheumatism, iss that what you say? Oh yes, it will be rheumatism. Ha.s.s the sight of your eyes left you, and hef you no discernment? Did ye not see that he was bowed to the very table with the power of the Word? for it was a fire in his bones, and he was baptised with the Holy Ghost."
When the elders gathered in the vestry, the minister asked what time the preacher might have for his evening sermon, and Donald again burst forth:
"I am told that in towns the Gospel goes by minutes, like the trains at the stations; but there iss no time-table here, for we shall wait till the sun goes down to hear all things G.o.d will be sending by His servant."
Good memories differ about the text that Sacrament evening, and the length of the sermon, but all hold as a treasure for ever what happened when the book was closed. The people were hushed into a quiet that might be felt, and the old man, swayed by the spirit of the Prophets, began to repeat the blessings and curses in the Bible between Genesis and Revelation, and after each pair he cried with heart-piercing voice, "Choose this day which ye will take," till Donald could contain himself no longer.
"Here iss the man who ha.s.s deserved all the curses, and here iss the man who chooses all the blessings."
Our fathers had no turn for sensation, but they had an unerring sense of a spiritual situation. The preacher paused for five seconds, while no man could breathe, and then lifting up his hand to Heaven he said, with an indescribable authority and tenderness, "The Lord fulfil the desire of your heart both in this world and in that which is to come."
Then the congregation sang, after the ancient custom of our parts,
"Now blessed be the Lord our G.o.d, The G.o.d of Israel,"
and Donald"s face was one glory, because he saw in the soft evening light of the upper window the angels of G.o.d ascending and descending upon the Son of man.
It was after this that the Free Kirk minister occupied six months in proving that Moses did not write Deuteronomy, and Lachlan was trying for the same period to have the minister removed from Drumtochty.
Donald, deprived by one stroke of both his friends, fell back on me, and told me many things I loved to hear, although they were beyond my comprehension.
"It wa.s.s not always so with me as it iss this day, for I once had no ear for G.o.d"s voice, and my eyes were holden that I saw not the spiritual world. But sore sickness came upon me, and I wa.s.s nigh unto death, and my soul awoke within me and began to cry like a child for its mother. All my days I had lived on Loch Tay, and now I thought of the other country into which I would hef to be going, where I had no nest, and my soul would be driven to and fro in the darkness as a bird on the moor of Rannoch.
"Janet sent for the minister, and he wa.s.s fery kind, and he spoke about my sickness and my farm, and I said nothing. For I wa.s.s hoping he would tell me what I wa.s.s to do for my soul. But he began upon the sheep market at Amulree, and I knew he wa.s.s also in the dark.
After he left I turned my face to the wall and wept.
"Next morning wa.s.s the Sabbath, and I said to Janet:
""Wrap me in my plaid, and put me in a cart, and take me to Aberfeldy." "And what will ye be doing at Aberfeldy? and you will die on the road." "There iss," said I, "a man there who knows the way of the soul, and it iss better to die with my face to the light."
"They set me in a corner of the church where I wa.s.s thinking no man could see me, and I cried in my heart without ceasing, "Lord, send me--send me a word from Thy mouth."
"When the minister came into the pulpit he gave me a strange look, and this wa.s.s his text, "Loose him and let him go."
"As he preached I knew I wa.s.s Lazurus, with the darkness of the grave around me, and my soul straitly bound. I could do nothing, but I wa.s.s longing with all my strength.
"Then the minister stopped, and he said:
"There iss a man in this church, and he will know himself who it iss. When I came in this morning I saw a shadow on his face, and I knew not whether it was the wing of the Angel of Life or the Angel of Death pa.s.sing over him, but the Lord has made it plain to me, and I see the silver feathers of the Angel of the Covenant, and this shall be a sign unto that man, "Loose him and let him go.""
"While he wa.s.s still speaking I felt my soul carried out into the light of G.o.d"s face, and my grave clothes were taken off one by one as Janet would unwind my plaid, and I stood a living man before Christ.
"It wa.s.s a sweet June day as we drove home, and I lay in sunshine, and every bird that sang, and the burnies by the roadside, and the rustling of the birch leaves in the wind--oh yes, and the sound of the horse"s feet were saying, "Loose him and let him go."
"Loch Tay looked black angry as we came by its side in the morning, and I said to Janet:
""It iss the Dead Sea, and I shall be as Sodom and Gomorrah;" but in the evening it wa.s.s as a sea of gla.s.s mingled with fire, and I heard the song of Moses and the Lamb sweeping over the Loch, but this wa.s.s still the sweetest word to me, "Loose him and let him go.""
II
AGAINST PRINc.i.p.aLITIES AND POWERS
The powers of darkness had been making a dead set upon Donald all winter, and towards spring he began to lose hope. He came to the Cottage once a week with news from the seat of war, and I could distinguish three zones of depression. Within the first he bewailed his inveterate attachment to this world, and his absolute indifference to spiritual things, and was content to describe himself as Achan. The sign that he had entered the second was a recurring reference to apostacy, and then you had the melancholy satisfaction of meeting the living representative of Simon Peter.
When he pa.s.sed into the last zone of the Purgatorio, Donald was beyond speech, and simply allowed one to gather from allusions to thirty pieces of silver that he was Judas Iscariot.
So long as it was only Achan or Simon Peter that came to sit with me, one was not gravely concerned, but Judas Iscariot meant that Donald had entered the Valley of the Shadow.
He made a spirited rally at the Winter Sacrament, and distinguished himself greatly on the evening of the Fast day. Being asked to pray, as a recognition of comparative cheerfulness, Donald continued for five and twenty minutes, and unfolded the works of the Devil in such minute and vivid detail that Burnbrae talks about it to this day, and Lachlan Campbell, although an expert in this department, confessed astonishment. It was a mighty wrestle, and it was perhaps natural that Donald should groan heavily at regular intervals, and acquaint the meeting how the conflict went, but the younger people were much shaken, and the edification even of the serious was not without reserve.
While Donald still lingered on the field of battle to gather the spoils and guard against any sudden return of the enemy, the elders had a hurried consultation in the vestry, and Burnbrae put the position with admirable force.
"Naebody can deny that it wes a maist extraordinary prayer, and it pa.s.ses me hoo he kens sae muckle aboot the Deevil. In fac" it"s a preevilege tae hae sic an experienced hand among us, and I wudna offend Donald Menzies for onything. But yon groanin" wes a wee thingie discomposin", and when he said, kind o" confidential, "He"s losing his grup," ma ain fouk cudna keep their c.o.o.ntenance. Weel, I wes thinkin" that the best plan wud be for Maister Campbell juist tae give a bit advice and tell Donald that we"re thankfu" to hear him at the meeting, and michty lifted wi" his peteetions, but it wud be an obleegation gin he wud leave oot the groans and tell us aifterwards what wes gaein" on, maybe in the Session."
Lachlan accepted his commission with quite unusual diffidence, and offered a very free translation on the way home.
"It wa.s.s a mercy to hef you at the meeting this night, Donald Menzies, for I saw that Satan had come in great strength, and it iss not every man that can withstand him. But you will not be ignorant of his devices; oh no, you will be knowing them fery well. Satan had not much to say before the prayer wa.s.s done, and I will not be expecting to see him again at this occasion. It wa.s.s the elders said, "Donald Menzies ha.s.s trampled Satan under foot." Oh yes, and fery glad men they were, for it iss not given to them. But I would be thinking iss it good to let the Devil hear you groaning in the battle, and I would be wishing that you had kept all your groans and given them to me on the road."
"Iss it the groans you are not liking?" retorted Donald, stung by this unexpected criticism. "And what iss wrong with groaning? But I hef the Scripture, and I will not be caring what you say, Lachlan Campbell."
"If you hef a warrant for groaning, it iss this man that will be glad to hear it, for I am not remembering that pa.s.sage."
"Maybe you hef not read "Maketh intercession with groanings," but it iss a fery good Scripture, and it iss in my Bible."
"All Scripture iss good, Donald Menzies, but it iss not lawful to divide Scripture, and it will read in my Bible, "groanings which cannot be uttered," and I wa.s.s saying this would be the best way with your groans."