Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1873-05-07

BY MRS. JANE DUNBAR CHAPLIN.
Some one has said, stThe folly O.
Scottish fools is replete with wisdom
and the madness of Scottish maniacs il
bright with CLEANS of intellect"
Never was this strange mingling O.
strength and weakness, of wisdom an6
folly, more exemplified than in strange
weird par, who, half a century ago
roved over the heaths and hills of the
extreme highlands, bound together by
a common misery. 1g " So :
Marselie Mcleod, tall, strong wo.
man, bearing the traces of early beauty
was the daughter of man noted fol
mercy toward all Gods creatures. He
was more like father than master tc
his many farm servants, and was the
umpire IN all his neighbors' difficulties
He was the fifth of his name who had
borne the Office of Elder in the Kirk,
The only sin men saw in him was the
pride in the unblemished name of Nc
Leod.
But God only knows what there is OF
evil in the united heart of man. David
Mcleod was brave in measuring theo-
logical lances with the errorist, and he
could have gone to the stake for his
faith; but there was depth of humil-
iation into which he could not go on
the strength of that faith. He had laid
seven children in the grave, and been
dumb, because the Lord did it. But
when the lamb of his severed fold. the
child of his heart, took false step and
sulI1ed his honored name, he felt thai
he did well to be angry In that an.
guish which dried up the spirit, he
proved to those about him that it is
g Easier to smite with Peters sword
Than watch one hour in humble prayer"
for the sanctifying influence of deep
humiliation.
In his righteous indignation he, who
had prided himself on his merciful
nature. shut the door of his home on
his motherless child, and left her to
the pity of the world and to the wiles
of the adversary. He never had an
opportunity to recall his bitter words,
for sorrow and pride both broke his
heart, and he was, very soon, laid
among .the McLeods IN Kirk haven
churehyard. @ ...
Marselie did not go into the world
utterly alone. She was followed by a
simple youth of fifteen years, whose
mother, a servant at the farm, had
commended him to her care in diving,
and of whom she had for years been
the tender guardian and the almost
worshipped friend Strangers were
more merciful than father or brother
and the .forlorn pair found food and
shelter at the surrounding farm-houses,
0lNH of - sa1 |,
for the friendless, who all fanc1ed they
heard the word Welcome" in the
rustling OF the vines that draped it, and
in the twitter1ng of the swallows that
flew about its broad square chimneys.
The elders only son, man in mid
die life, soon sold the lease of the land
his ancestors had tiled for generations,
and emigrated to what was then the
Wilds of Michigan y He was too
proud to,leave his sister, whose mind,
some now said, was shattered, y on the
charity of his neighbors so he set
apart q certain little property Of his
father sand 1T was very little-for her
use, leaving her home with an honest
old cotter and his wife, who had been
tenants of his fathers. And then he
buried her from his heart, as if one sir
or an hundred sins could break the
family bond When Marselie heard
that he was gone, and that she had nc
longer any hope of his pardon, she sank
into hopeless melancholy, and began
the wandering which never stayed till
the grave, kinder than her Kindred,
opened its bosom to receive her. Hel
mind had been shattered before, but
her heart was broken nov.
When the minister sent for her to
the manse, to tell her of the provision
made for with "Cotter james, she
became accompanied by her Door
squire, Jock, who was now inseparable
from her, and whose comfort she
sought before her own. -
Marselie heard all the minister said
IN silence, and then replied:
Nay, minister, dear, though I star7e
on the lone hills, III ne'er eat a crumI
earned by my fathers handl I'll obey
his last words as [ left his door, anct
passed the long, stormy night on m,
mothers grave /"
What were those words, Marselie p
asked the minister.
"' Never again, while We ha' need O
the bread that perisheth, do We put ant
crumb that belongs to me between We
lips, ye sinfu' BARN And do "
think IL do it, cen though il come
through the kind hand O. Cotter James
Nay, nay, minister! I'm as proud a.
my father; and as honest too. I'll nae
steal from his dead hand what his liv
ing one denied me Jock an [ will eat
the crumbs that ia. from yer table, OF
any other pitiful saints, dear minister
but never OF that forbidden loaf" shs
said solemnly. "I'n just rove on
mourning and wailing over the loss O
my good name--thele was never 8
funeral prayer said DER it, but only
cuses-till the pitying Christ, who
was ha more holy in His own eyes thai
many self-righteous men are in theirs
speaking peace to my broken spirit, anC
WI His own hand wipes away thes
tears O. repentance I'm in the dus
now, dear man O. God, trampled unde
feet and reyiled by sinners like myself
But though have fallen, shall ris
again, and rejoice in the mercy O.
sin pardonipg God. And my redemp
ton draweth nigh. Pm in the furnac
now, but soon / shall come forth glori
fed, and there are men in the kirk to
day, who Will then strive for grasp O
my hand. God cannot fail me-"
6 If you believe this so firmly, VIII,
cannot you cease your wanderings, anC
trust God now ~
!" What, and rush unbidden out o
his furnaces 2 Nay, nay! There's n,
escaping His hand that way. [ vii
face the flame because His hand kind
led 1t, and when I am purified He vii
blow it out"
Poor Marselie, take care how yo
rest on your own suffering and humi
laEIAn IhaN can nauar maSh amau 81