“Now I hope I understand better the meanin’ o’ what I saw to-day. But, there wis ae day nae long ago I heard auld Willie Scott the mason—and ye ken he’s great on religious matters—say to a man in Jamie Reith’s smiddy that there wis only a tissue paper wall between the English Kirk and Roman Catholics. He said that their white gowns, an’ organs, an’ chantin’ an’ hymns, were a’ relics of popery. It wis jist a kirk for the ‘gentle persuasion,’ he said; they dinna want ony poor folk there.”
“Dinna ye heed ony o’ auld Willie’s havers; he’s only a poor narrow-minded body, an’ disna think anybody will be saved except the ‘Auld light’ folk. The white gowns were used in the oldest and purest ages of the Church, more than a thousand years before the black Geneva gown was heard of, an’ as to organs, weel, King David himsel’ played on a harp, an’ I’m thinking if the Almighty was pleased wi’ that, he wouldna hae ony objection to a grand instrument like the organ. As for the chantin’ there was plenty o’ that in the temple when the Maister Himsel’ was worshipping there, and gin He had thocht there wis onything wrang He wad sune hae let them hear aboot it. If Willie thinks the English version o’ the Psalms is inspired, he’s awfu’ sair mista’en. Some of the metre Psalms are perfect doggerel.”
“But I’ll tell you Alan, he spak’ a true word when he said that the Episcopalian kirk was the kirk o’ the gentle persuasion; for there is something in it, as a system, that helps to make a man gentle, and kind, and unselfish. No doubt there may be many imperfect characters among them, but the teaching of their Church, the use of their Prayer Book, their ordinances and Sacraments, all help to make them o’ ‘the gentle persuasion.’ Why, laddie, the very service ye heard the day is a proof o’ the perfect democracy of her system. It is the same burial service that she uses for the poorest of her people as for the most exalted in rank. So you see in the way Willie meant she’s not the kirk o’ ‘the gentle persuasion’.”
“Thank ye very much for takin’ the trouble to explain all this to me. I wis wonderin’ if ye could lend me an auld Prayer Book for a day or two; I would like to read a bit o’ ’t.”
“Surely I’ll dae that, Alan;” and with that he went to his book-shelves, took down a copy of the Book of Common Prayer and handed it to me.
Putting the precious volume in my pocket, I set out for home, arriving there in time for family worship, which, according to the custom of his people, my father conducted every evening.
Such was my day dream. So was the first seed sown many years ago; but to me it sometimes seems as yesterday, so vividly can I recall it all. My reverie was a pleasant one. By and by I may go back in spirit to those old days and tell you something more of the way by which God led me, and some of the difficulties which I had to overcome, before I could throw in my lot with the great Anglican Communion.
II. The “Monastery”
“ALAN GRAY, come to my desk.”
At the sound of these ominous words, thundered out by the master, every pupil in Glenconan School cast a furtive look at the spot whence the summons came, and another at poor luckless me as I made my way to the dread tribunal, carrying in my hand the tawse which had been flung at my head.