Witch Wood. Buchan John

it lie in the mouth of a minister or an elder of the Kirk to cavil at the Kirk’s doings?’ he asked, but without conviction in his tone.

      The other smiled. ‘You give due loyalty, as the Scripture enjoins, to the King, Mr Sempill?’

      ‘I am faithful to his Majesty so long as his Majesty is faithful to law and religion.’

      ‘Even so. It is my own creed. The King must respect the limits of his prerogative—it is the condition on which he rules in a free land. My loyalty to the Kirk is in the same case. I am loyal when she fulfils those duties which God has laid upon her—that duty above all of bringing mortal men to God. If she forget those duties and meddle arrogantly with civil matters that do not concern her, then I take leave to oppose her, as in a like case I would oppose his Majesty. For by such perversities both King and Kirk become tyrants, and tyranny is not to be endured by men who are called into the liberty of Christ.’

      ‘Or by Scots,’ added the tall trooper.

      ‘I have no clearness on the point,’ said David after a pause. ‘I have not thought deeply on these matters, for I am but new to the ministry and my youth was filled with profane study.’

      ‘Nevertheless, such study is a good foundation for a wise theology. I judge that you are a ripe Latinist—maybe also a Grecian. You have read your Aristotle? You are familiar with the history of the ancient world, which illumines all later ages? I would point my arguments from that armoury.’

      ‘I cannot grant that the doings of ancient heathendom give any rule for a Christian state.’

      ‘But, sir, the business of government is always the same. We have our Lord’s warning that there are the things of Caesar and the things of God. The Roman was the great master of the arts of government, and he did not seek throughout his empire to make a single religion. He was content to give it the peace of his law, and let each people go its own way in matters of worship. It was in that tolerant world which he created that our Christian faith found its opportunity.’

      ‘Doubtless God so moved the Roman mind for His own purpose. But I join issue on your application. The Church of Christ is now in being, and the faith of Christ is the foundation of a Christian state. Civil law is an offence against God unless it be also Christian.’

      The young man smiled. ‘I do not deny it. This realm of ours is professedly a Christian realm—I would it were more truly so. But that does not exempt it from obedience to those laws of government without which no realm, Christian or pagan, may endure. If a man is so ill a smith that he cannot shoe my horse, I will be none the better served because he is a good Christian. If a land be ill governed, the disaster will be not the less great because the governors are men of God. If his Majesty—to take a pertinent example—override the law to the people’s detriment, that tyranny will be not the less grievous because his Majesty believes in his heart that he is performing a duty towards the Almighty. Honest intention will not cure faulty practice, and the fool is the fool whether he be unbeliever or professor.’

      David shook his head. ‘Where does your argument tend? I fear to schism.’

      ‘Not so. I am an orthodox son of the Kirk, a loyal servant of his Majesty, and a passionate Scot. Here, my friend, is my simple confession. There is but one master in the land and its name is Law—which is in itself a creation of a free people under the inspiration of the Almighty. That law may be changed by the people’s will, but till it be so changed it is to be revered and obeyed. It has ordained the King’s prerogative, the rights of the subject, and the rights and duties of the Kirk. The state is like the body, whose health is only to be maintained by a just proportion among its members. If a man’s belly be his god his limbs will suffer, if he use only his legs his arms will dwindle. If therefore the King should intrude upon the subject’s rights, or the subject whittle at the King’s prerogative, or the Kirk set herself above the Crown, there will be a sick state and an ailing people.’

      Nicholas Hawkshaw had been listening intently with a puzzled air, his eyes fixed on the groom’s face, but the two troopers seemed ill at ease.

      ‘Man, James,’ said the tall man, ‘you’ve mistook your calling. You should have been a regent in the college of St. Andrew’s, and hammered sense into the thick heads of the bejaunts.’

      Rollo, the lame man, shifted his seat and seemed inclined to turn the conversation.

      ‘Patience, Mark,’ said the groom. ‘It’s not often a poor soldier of Leven’s gets a chance of a crack with a like-minded friend. For I’m certain that Mr Sempill is very near my way of thinking.’

      ‘I do not quarrel with your premises,’ said David, ‘but I’m not clear about the conclusion.’

      ‘It’s writ large in this land today. There are those that would make the King a puppet and put all authority in parliaments, and there are those who would make the Kirk like Calvin’s at Geneva, a ruler over both civil and religious matters. I say that both ways lie madness and grief. If you upset the just proportion of the law you will gain not liberty but confusion. You are a scholar, Mr Sempill, and have read the histories of Thucydides? Let me counsel you to read them again and consider the moral.’

      ‘What side are you on?’ David asked abruptly.

      ‘I am on the side of the free people of Scotland. And you by your vows are on the same side, for your concern is to feed the flock of God which is among us. Think you, sir, if you depress the balance against the King, that thereby you will win more for the people? Nay, nay, what is lost to the prerogative will go, not to the people, but to those who prey on them. You will have that anarchy which gives his chance to the spoiler, and out of anarchy will come some day a man of violence who will tyrannically make order again. It is the way of the world, my friend.’

      ‘Are you for the covenant?’

      At the question the others started. ‘Enough of politics,’ cried Rollo. ‘These are no matters to debate among weary folk.’ But the groom raised his hand and they were silent.

      ‘I am for the Covenant. Six years back I drew sword for it, and I did not sheathe that sword till we had established the liberties of this land. That was indeed a Covenant of Grace.’

      ‘There is another and a later. What say you of that?’

      ‘I say of that other that it is a Covenant of Works in which I have no part, nor any true lover of the Kirk. It is a stepping of the Kirk beyond the bounds prescribed by the law of God and the law of man, and it will mean a weakening of the Kirk in its proper duties. And that I need not tell you, as a minister of Christ, will be the starvation and oppression of Christ’s simple folk. Quicquid delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi. Is it not more pleasing to God that His ministers should comfort the sick and the widow and the fatherless and guide souls to Heaven than that they should scrabble for civil pre-eminence?’

      Into David’s mind came two visions—that of the complacent ministers of Kirk Aller and Bold as they had discoursed at meat, and that of the old herd at the Greenshiel sitting by his dead wife. The pictures belonged to different worlds, and at the moment he felt that these worlds were eternally apart. He had the disquieting thought that the one had only the husks of faith and the other the grain. Dimly he heard the voice of the groom. ‘I will give you a text, Mr Sempill. “The vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah His pleasant plant; and He looked for judgment, but behold oppression; for righteousness, but behold a cry.”’

      He scarcely realised that the others had sprung to their feet, and it was only when Nicholas Hawkshaw exclaimed that he turned his head.

      A girl stood before them, the girl who had opened the door, but whose face he had scarcely seen at the time in the poor light.

      ‘Katrine, my dear, you’ve been long of coming.’ It was Nicholas who spoke. ‘I thought you had slipped off to your bed. This is my sister’s child, sirs, who keeps me company in this auld barrack—Robert Yester’s daughter, him that fell with Monro in the year ’thirty-four.