Out in the Forty-Five Part 23

"In the second place, she is a widow with a temper, and a good deal of it."

"Dinna name it!" cried the Laird, lifting up his hands. "Dinna name it!

Eh, puir laddie, but I'm wae for him, gin he's fashed wi' ane o' that sort."

"And in the third place," continued Angus, "I have been told that he may well preach against worldly-mindedness, for he gets enough of it at home. Mrs Whitefield knows what are trumps, considerably better than she knows where to look in the Bible for her husband's text."

"Dear, dear!" cried Lady Monksburn in her soft voice. "What could the good man be thinking of, to bind such a burden as that upon his life?"

"He thought he had converted her, I believe," said Angus, "but she came undone."

"I should think," remarked Mr Keith, "that he acted as Joshua did with the Gibeonites."

"How was that?" said Angus.

"It won't hurt you to look for it," was the answer.

I don't know whether Angus looked for it, but I did as soon as I got in, and I saw that Mr Keith thought there had been too much hastiness, and perhaps a little worldly-mindedness in Mr Whitefield himself. That may be why he preaches so earnestly against it. We know so well where the slippery places are, when we have been down ourselves. And when we have been down once, we are generally very, very careful to keep off that slide for the future.

Mr Whitefield said last night that it was not true to say, as some do, "that a man may be in Christ to-day, and go to the Devil to-morrow."

Then if anybody is converted, how can he, as Angus said, "come undone"?

I only see one explanation, and it is rather a terrible one: namely, that the conversion was not real, but only looked like it. And I am afraid that must be the truth. But what a pity it is that Mr Whitefield did not find it out sooner!

"Well, Helen, and how did you like the great English preacher?" I said to Flora's nurse.

"Atweel, Miss Cary, the discourse was no that ill for a Prelatist," was the answer.

And that was as much admiration as I could get from Helen.

There was more talk about Mr Whitefield this morning at breakfast. I cannot tell what has come to Angus. Going to hear Mr Whitefield preach at Monks' Brae seems to have made him worse instead of better. Flora and I both liked it so much; but Angus talks of it with a kind of bitter hardness in his voice, and as if it pleased him to let us know all the bad things which had been said about the preacher. He told us that they said--(I wish they would give over saying!)--that Mr Whitefield had got his money matters into some tangle, in the business of building his Orphan House in Georgia; and "they said" he had acted fraudulently in the matter. My Uncle Drummond put this down at once, with--

"My son, never repeat a calumny against a good man. You may not know it, but you do Satan's very work for him."

Angus made a grimace behind his hand, which I fancy he did not mean his father to see. Then, he went on, "'They say' that Mr Whitefield is so fanatical and extravagant in preaching against worldliness, that he counts it sinful to smell to a rose, or to eat anything relishing."

"Did he say so?" asked my Uncle: "or did 'they' say it for him?"

"Well, Sir," answered Angus with a laugh, "I heard Mr Whitefield had said that he would give his people leave to smell to a rose and a pink also, so long as they would avoid the appearance of sin: and, quoth he, 'if you can find any diversion which you would be willing to be found at by our Lord in His coming, I give you free licence to go to it and welcome.'"

"Then we have disposed of that charge," saith my Uncle. "What next?"

"Well, they say he hath given infinite displeasure to the English gentry by one of his favourite sayings--that 'Man is half a beast and half a devil.' He will not allow them to talk of 'pa.s.sing the time'--how dare they waste the time, saith he, when they have the devil and the beast to get out of their souls? Folks don't like, you see, to be painted in those colours."

"No, we rarely admire a portrait that is exactly like us," saith my Uncle Drummond.

"Pray, Sir, think you that is a likeness?" said Angus.

"More like, my son, than you and I think. Some of us have more of the one, and some of the other: but in truth I cannot contradict Mr Whitefield. 'Tis a just portrait of what man is by nature."

"But, Sir!" cried Angus, "do you allow nothing for a man's natural virtues?"

"What are they?" asked my Uncle. "I allow that 'there is none that doeth good, no, not one.' You were not taught, Angus, that a man had virtues natural to him, except as the Spirit of G.o.d implanted them in him."

"No, Sir; but when I go forth into the world, I cannot help seeing that it is so."

"I wish I could see it!" said my Uncle. "It would be a much more agreeable sight than many things I do see."

"Well, Sir, take generosity and good temper," urged Angus. "Do you not see much of these in men who, as Mr Whitefield would say, are worldly and unG.o.dly?"

"I often see the Lord's restraining grace," answered my Uncle, quietly; "but am I to give the credit of it to those whom He restrains?"

"But think you, Sir, that it is wise--" Angus paused.

"Go on, my boy," said my Uncle. "I like you to speak out, like an honest man. By all means have courage to own your convictions. If they be right ones, you may so have them confirmed; and if they be wrong, you stand in better case to have them put right."

I did not think Angus looked quite comfortable. He hesitated a moment, and then, I suppose, came out with what he had meant to say.

"Think you not, Sir, that it is wise to leave unsaid such things as offend people, and make them turn away from preaching? Should we not be careful to avoid offence?"

"Unnecessary offence," saith my Uncle. "But the offence of the cross is precisely that which we are warned not to avoid. 'Not with wisdom of words,' saith the Apostle, 'lest the cross of Christ should be made of none effect.' In his eyes, 'then is the offence of the cross ceased,'

was sufficient to condemn the preaching whereof he spoke. And that policy of keeping back truth is the Devil's policy; 'tis Jesuitical.

'Will ye speak wickedly for G.o.d, and talk deceitfully for Him?' 'Shall the throne of iniquity have fellowship with _Thee_?' Never, Angus: never!"

"But our Lord Himself seems to have kept things back from His disciples," pleaded Angus, uneasily.

"Yes, what they were not ready for and could not yet understand. But never that which offended them. He offended them terribly when He told them that the Son of Man was about to be crucified. So did the Jesuits to the Chinese: and when they found the offence, they altered their policy, and said the story of the crucifixion was an invention of Christ's enemies. Did He?"

Angus made no answer: and breakfast being over, we separated to our several work.

Note 1. "Enthusiasm" was the term then usually applied to the doctrines of grace, when the word was used in a religious sense.

Note 2. These sentences are not taken from any one of Whitefield's sermons exclusively, but are gathered from the gems of thought scattered through his works.

Note 3. Singular still meant alone in Whitefield's day.

Note 4. Articles twelve and thirteen. All the members of the Church of England ought to be perfectly familiar with the Articles and Homilies, as the Reformers intended them to be. How else can they know what they profess to hold, when they call themselves members of the Church? If they do not share her opinions, they have no right to use her name.

Note 5. He died at Newbury Port, in New England, in September 1770.

America has no n.o.bler possession than the grave of George Whitefield.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

RUMOURS OF WAR.

"They've left their bonnie Highland hills, Their wives and bairnies dear, To draw the sword for Scotland's Lord, The young Chevalier."