“I am here,” he said, “for my own sake and for my brother's. We wish to make confession of our sins, in that we have not been men of love, and to seek the forgiveness of God.”
The minister stood and gazed at him in amazed silence for some moments, and then, giving his hand to Macdonald Dubh, he said, in a voice husky with emotion: “Come away, my brother. The Lord has a welcome for you.”
And there were no questions that day asked in the session before Macdonald Dubh received his token.
CHAPTER XVI
AND THE GLORY
The first communion in the new church was marked by very great solemnity. There were few new members, but among the older men who had hitherto kept “back from the table” there was a manifest anxiety, and among the younger people a very great seriousness. The “coming forward” of Macdonald Dubh was an event so remarkable as to make a great impression not only upon all the Macdonald men who had been associated with him so many years in the lumbering, but also upon the whole congregation, to whom his record and reputation were well known. His change of attitude to the church and all its interests, as well as his change of disposition and temperament, were so striking as to leave in no one's mind any doubt as to the genuineness of his “change of heart,” and every week made this more apparent. A solemn sense of responsibility and an intensity of earnestness seemed to possess him, while his humility and gentleness were touching to see.
On the evening of Monday, the day of thanksgiving in the Sacrament Week, a great congregation assembled for the closing meeting of the Communion Season. During the progress of the meeting, Mr. Murray and the ministers assisting him became aware that they were in the presence of some remarkable and mysterious phenomenon. The people listened to the Word with an intensity, response, and eagerness that gave token of a state of mind and heart wholly unusual. Here and there, while the psalms were being sung or prayers being offered, women and men would break down in audible weeping; and in the preaching the speaker was conscious of a power possessing him that he could not explain.
At length the last psalm was given out, and the congregation, contrary to their usual custom, by the minister's direction, rose to sing. As John “Aleck” led the people in that great volume of praise, the ministers held a hasty consultation in the pulpit. The professor had never seen anything so marvelous; Mr. Murray was reminded of the days of W. C. Burns. The question was, What was to be done? Should the meetings be continued, or should they close tonight? They had a great fear of religious excitement. They had seen something of the dreadful reaction following a state of exalted religious feeling. It was the beginning of harvest, too. Would it be advisable to call the people from their hard work in the fields to nightly meetings?
At length, as the congregation were nearing the close of the psalm, the professor spoke. “Brethren,” he said, “this is not our work. Let us leave it to the Lord to decide. Put the question to the people and abide by their decision.”