“QUITE a long text, aunt Fanny, but Wilfrid and myself can say it now; but it was hard to learn, and don't think we understand it at all, at least, I am sure I don't," and a very troubled look came over the usually bright face of Hilda Gray.
“Poor child," aunt Fanny said gently; "sometimes I find some Bible verse too difficult for me, so I just have to take it to the Lord in prayer, and ask Him to make it plain to me, and sooner or later the light for which I ask is sure to be given me. But now I should like to be told what you found so hard to understand in this morning's text?”
“It says, ‘Without faith it is impossible to please him.' Now we thought everybody believed the Bible was true, but we are sure everybody does not love the Lord Jesus. Do they?" Wilfrid asked.
"I am glad you have told me what was passing in your mind, dear Wilfrid. It is one thing to believe the Bible is true, or even to believe that Christ died for sinners, but quite another really and truly to trust in Him as your own precious Savior. I heard only yesterday of a poor man who had lived to be more than eighty years of age before he knew his sins were forgiven. He was taken ill, and a friend of mine was asked to go to see him, and tell him about Christ. At first, the mind of the old man seemed very dark, but as he listened to the story of the love of God in the gift of His Son, the Holy Spirit taught him to accept salvation through the finished work of Christ, and only a few hours before his death, he called a Christian woman to his bedside and said, ‘It is all right now, I have told God all about it, that I am a poor lost sinner, and I am trusting in Jesus.'
"Shall I tell you a true story of how, more than two hundred years ago, faith in a loving, living Savior made a young Scotch girl strong and brave, to suffer, and even to die rather than say or do what she thought would grieve or dishonor her Savior?
“Margaret Wilson was, as they say in Scotland, a ‘bonny lassie,' a real mother's girl, always ready and willing to take her full share of work on churning, washing, or baking days, and showed in many ways, by her gentle, kindly spirit, that she was learning of Him who had said, ‘Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls.' (Matt. 11:2929Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. (Matthew 11:29).) Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, the father and mother of Margaret, were simple and godly people, who loved their Bible, and took great pains to instruct their three children, of whom Margaret was, I think, the eldest, in its truths. And their labor was not in vain, for at a very early age all of them gave proof of saving faith in Christ.
“But I must tell you a little about the times in which Margaret lived, or you will not be able to understand the nature of her trials. What we call freedom of conscience or the liberty to read the word of God, and follow its teachings according to the light He has given us, was almost unknown in Scotland, and unjust men were trying, by cruel laws, to take away the liberty of Scotch Christians, even to meet for Bible reading and prayer, in the simple way so dear to the hearts of many.
“And who refused obedience did so at great risk. Sometimes they were driven away from their peaceful homes, and obliged to hide themselves in the woods or in caves, living as best they could on roots and berries. Even there they were not safe, for bands of soldiers were often sent to hunt for these poor people. If any of them were found, they were dragged away to prison, or put to death.
“The trial of faith proved too great for some, among whom was Gilbert Wilson. He escaped persecution by taking what was called the Oath; making a solemn promise to obey the king in all things.
"But when Margaret, then a girl of sixteen, and her younger sister Agnes were told what their father had done, they begged with many tears that he would not compel them to take the Oath, saying they were willing to suffer, and if needs be to die for Christ's cause, and could not give up the precious Bible truths their father had himself taught them.
“So, after many tears, and a good deal of talking, it was arranged that the two girls should leave home, at least for a time, and try to hide themselves in the cottage of a poor widow, who, like Margaret and Agnes, stood firmly for Christ.
“Seven anxious, weary months followed, during which the two poor girls more than once narrowly escaped being taken prisoners. Then sorrowful news came to the farmhouse where the Wilsons lived. Their two daughters and their aged friend were prisoners, and were about to be tried before a judge who was known to be a bitter enemy to the Covenanters.
“The unhappy parents lost no time in going to the spot where the trial was to take place. When there, the father learned that as Agnes was thought too young to understand what she was doing, he could ransom her by a payment of money. This he did gladly, though every penny he could get together was needed.
“But gold, even if Gilbert Wilson had been a rich man, would not have set Margaret free. Her captors would listen to no terms for her release, expecting one so young would take the required oath, and so save herself from a cruel death.
“But as, in spite alike of threats or promises, Margaret and her old friend stood firm, sentence of death was passed on both, and they were led back to prison. From the prison cell Margaret wrote a long letter to her father, telling him she was happy in her Savior's love, and counted it an honor to be called upon to suffer for Christ's sake.
“A few days later, and the time fixed upon for the sentence of death to be carried out had arrived. A spot almost within sight of Margaret's home had been chosen, and on the sea-shore, at a point where the tide came in quickly, two stakes had been driven deep into the sand. To one of these very near the waves that were rolling in, the onlookers who stood in little knots on the hillside could see the aged martyr fastened. They saw her bow her head beneath the waters and die, just as the first cold wave touched the feet of Margaret.
“What think you, maiden, of you sight?' said a soldier to the gentle girl as he pointed to her fellow-sufferer,
"‘I think I see Christ yonder, suffering in one of His members,' was her answer. ‘Think not it is we who suffer. He sends no one to warfare at his own charge.'" Slowly but surely the tide flowed in, already the waters were above her knees, but no cry of pain or fear broke from the pale lips of Margaret.
“Only a few lines of a psalm she had often joined in singing at evening prayer in the happy home of her childhood.
"Let not the errors of my youth,
Nor sins remembered be;
In mercy for Thy goodness' sake,
Dear Lord, remember me.
"Oh, do Thou keep my soul, my God,
Do Thou deliver me;
Let me not be ashamed, since I,
Do put my trust in Thee.”
“The waves rose higher, and a deep, almost breathless silence fell upon the crowd, broken at last by a pleading, piteous cry, ‘My child, my child, oh, save my child,' and a man who had forced his passage through the guards, threw himself at the feet of the officer in command. It was Gilbert Wilson, and though the one to whom he spoke was but little used to pity, something like compassion for the almost broken-hearted father seemed to move him for an instant, and he gave orders that Margaret should again be asked to take the required oath.
“Two young men who were good swimmers reached the stake to which she had been fastened, just as the waves were closing over her head. When rescued she was unconscious, and at first they thought her dead. When her eyes unclosed, a clear, calm light of faith and love shone in them, and in a feeble voice she whispered her Savior's name.
“But when asked if she would give up her principles and take the oath, Margaret replied, ‘I cannot, I may not, and will not, I am Christ's, let me go.'
“Margaret, Margaret,' cried her father, ‘say God save the king.'
“Yes, God save him,' she replied, 'for his salvation I desire.'
“She has said it, she has said it,' cried Wilson, ‘my precious bairn.'
“Still, an officer present required her to take the oath, which her conscience forbade her doing. So with the words of her dying Savior on her lips, 'Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit,' Margaret Wilson was thrust back into the sea.
“Her body was found by her friends, and laid in a quiet grave, in a corner of Wigton churchyard, there to wait the morning when the sleeping saints shall rise to meet the Lord in the air.
“But in many a Scottish home her name is still a loved and honored one. As children listen to her story in the deepening twilight, the liberty to read God's word seems to them what it really is, a grand and glorious privilege, as they hear of how some in martyr times were called to suffer for its truths.”