_FAMA CLAMOSA_.
The meeting was an undeniable success. The chairman called on his
reverend supporters for addresses, which they made in their warmest
and most florid style. They recalled the rebuilding of Jerusalem and
the Temple, when each man laboured with his sword by his side, and
worked, and watched, and fought by turns; till every hearer present
believed that he might emulate Nehemiah and Zerubbabel by contributing
to the collection, and began to finger his loose change with a view to
doing it. There were stirring references, too, to John Knox,
(especially to the scene at Holyrood, when he spoke back to the
Queen,) to George Wishart and Andrew Rutherford, Margaret Wilson, John
Brown of Priesthill, martyred by 'Clavers,' Jenny Geddes with her
creepie attacking the Dean of Edinburgh, and other Scots Worthies.
Then followed reports, statements of funds and calculations of
expenses from the Deacons, and finally speeches from all who chose to
address the meeting. This last feature in the proceedings was
especially popular. Every greybeard in the crowd was in turn urged and
goaded by his admiring family and neighbours to step forward, and
when, after much shame-faced trepidation, he had hummed and stuttered
through a few sentences and would finally come to a dead stop and
return to his friends, he had earned the self-satisfied consciousness
that he was a potential orator, and that 'gin the Lord had but granted
him schulin' in his youth, he might have wagged his pow in a poopit
wi' the best.'
At length the hoary grandsires had all spoken, the fathers, the sons,
even the 'halflin callants,' began to feel the stirrings of ambitious
eloquence. Luckie Howden, too, felt movings to rehearse her testimony
in favour of good morals, and Brother Dowlas saw it was time to draw
the line. In a whisper he called attention to the practice of Saint
Paul, who suffered not a woman to teach--a sentiment which was
overheard by Mrs. Sangster, and elicited from her a look of most
contemptuous wonder, but nevertheless received the adhesion of the
Laird. They therefore proceeded to lay the foundation stone, with
appropriate prayer and praise, and the proceedings came to an end.
At this moment, Mr. Dowlas came forward and stated in a loud voice
that he had been requested to intimate 'that the Session and Deacons'
Court were requested to assemble for special and important business at
the Post Office, immediately after the close of the present meeting.'
Mr. Sangster was taken by surprise. He asked on whose authority the
intimation had been made, but the reverend announcer replied that a
written notice had been placed in his hand, and that he and Mr. Geddie
had been requested to be present.
The elders and deacons were already assembled when Mr. Sangster and
the ministers entered the place of meeting, Joseph bringing up the
rear in his most official manner, yet diffidently,--as if uncertain
whether he were wanted,--but still desirous to know what was going
forward, and willing to give weight to it by the presence of the
beadle. He stood by the door with his hand meekly before his mouth,
and surveyed the silent assemblage, whom he afterwards described to
Jean Macaulay as resembling 'a curran hoolets wi' their muckle
blinkin' een, lookin' terrible wise an' sayin' naething.' Perhaps it
was in their silence that their wisdom lay.
Ebenezer Prittie, being host, or at least the party in occupation of
the premises, rose to his feet, and after clearing his voice, proposed
that the ruling elder, Mr. Sangster of Auchlippie, now take the chair,
and that the clerk of session take the desk and minute the
proceedings.
Mr. Sangster rose in reply, saying that before he did so, he desired
to understand the nature of the meeting over which he was asked to
preside, as he knew nothing about it but the intimation which had been
read after the meeting just closed and while it was dispersing.
Ebenezer replied that it was the meeting adjourned from Monday, as
agreed on, that they might consult with the two reverend members of
Presbytery, who were now kind enough to be present.
The Laird answered that the joint meeting of Session and Deacons'
Court on the Monday, had concluded its business and been adjourned
_sine die_ by their acting minister who presided, and that when he
(the speaker) subsequently conversed on the same evening with his
friends, whom he had been happy once more to meet in that place, he
had dwelt strongly and without being gainsaid, on the fact that their
meeting as a Church Court having been dissolved by the presiding
officer, that which they were then holding was merely a friendly
conversation, and without authority. And he begged to inform the
person, whoever he might be, at whose instance they had now come
together, that it was altogether '_ultra vires_' (his voice hung
emphatically on the Latin words, and they greatly impressed his
auditors) for the Session to assemble itself at the pleasure of any of
its members, and to act as a court. Mr. Brown as acting minister was
'_ex officio_' (more emphasis and deep impression) the proper caller
and president of such courts; and failing him, it was the ruling elder
on whom it devolved to summon and preside over the Court. But the
minister had no knowledge of,--far less had he called or sanctioned
their meeting,--and for himself he could not, as a constituted
authority in the Church, be party to a proceeding so irregular and
subversive of all Church government, as the course proposed.
'But Mester Sangster,' put in Ebenezer, 'ye canna but say that we met
here on Monday nicht, and gin ye dinna ken that we agreed to come
thegither again the day, to consult wi' the twa ministers here
present, it's yer ain faut. Ye gaed awa at yer ain wull, an' naebody
cud tak on him to bid ye bide.'
'Brethren,' interposed Peter Malloch, with an elated but solemn smile,
'what say ye to ca't a' a meetin' o' the Deacons' Coort? An' we could
meenit it a' in our books,--I'm thinkin' that's our plan. I'm the
convener, an' I hae a richt to convene my ain coort!'
'Certainly, Mr. Convener,' responded the Laird, 'you may call a
Deacons' Court; but on what point is it that you want the advice of
the Eldership here present? Will the treasurer's books not balance?
Have some of the collectors failed to make their returns? Or what is
it?'
'Hoot, Laird! ye ken just fine! The treasurer's a' richt, an' sae are
the collectors. It's the minister an' his bairn we're after, as ye ken
brawly.'
'I regret then, Mr. Convener, to have to remind you that your court
has no jurisdiction. Faith, morals, and discipline, are the exclusive
province of the Session; and I for one protest against the Deacons'
Court presuming to touch such matters.'
'Presumin'! quotha!' interjected Andrew Semple. 'An' hasna ilka auld
wife e'y Glen been presumin', as ye ca' 't, for twa week back an'
mair?'
Here Mr. Geddie felt compelled to intervene, and pour the oil of
evangelical sweetness on the troubled waters. He was to dine and spend
the night along with Mr. Dowlas at Auchlippie, therefore he would fain
have agreed with his host; at the same time he had no intention of
being balked of a sensation, and what promised to be a most
interesting hunt after recent iniquity, at the very outset.
'It appears to me, my friends,' he said in his smoothest accents,
'that the points of order raised by our excellent brother have great
weight, and are taken with that clear and perspicuous wisdom which
have made his opinions a tower of strength to the church in turning
back the army of the aliens; and therefore while the Deacons' Court
are manifestly moved by a holy zeal for righteousness, such as we
might have expected at their hands, it will be best that they do not
take action officially in this matter.'
'I defy them to do it!' interjected the Laird, little mollified by the
unctuous adjectives.
'It is also not to be expected,' continued this reverend Achitophel,
'that our erring brother'----
'Prove the error,' muttered the Laird.
'That our brother who has wandered from the paths of holy living, but
whom we all love (and brethren, I may add that he is still but young,
and the flesh is weak)! It is not to be expected that he should call a
Court to investigate into his own shortcomings; or that until he has
been brought to see and admit the heinousness of his offences, and
that they have all been found out (for that, brethren, I have always
observed is a powerful lever in awakening a slumbering conscience)--It
is when the poor sinner has discovered that his refuges of lies will
not stand, that they are all swept away like mists before the winds of
indignation, and that the clear light of truth is shining down on his
nakedness, and wretchedness, and moral wounds; it is then that the
poor sinner comes forth with tears in his eyes and sackcloth on his
loins, and cries aloud, "I have sinned."'
Here the orator stopped for breath. He was moved by his own pathetic
elocution, and his picture of the returning prodigal. Also, he had got
entangled among his parts of speech, and lost his way among the
parentheses; and now he scarcely knew where he was, or what he had
intended to say next.
'Are you not condemning a man before you have even heard the
accusation brought against him?' inquired the Laird; but without
gaining much attention from any one. The audience, in fact, was just
then uttering a sigh of satisfaction over the moving words of the
previous speaker, which were as impressive as a doleful sing-song
could make them, besides being in accordance with their own opinion;
and nothing is more interesting and weighty than our own sentiments
uttered by another, with a fluency and copiousness which we could not
have lent them. It is like looking at ourselves through a glorifying
medium, contemplating our own portrait from the brush of a
distinguished court painter; which, judged by the walls of Royal
Academy Exhibitions, is the highest, as well as the best paid form of
art. The golden bowls and pomegranates of the morning were nothing to
this! it was as good as a sermon, and 'so practical,' as some one
whispered. Nothing like a practical sermon! my friend; and much
tilting at sin. Always premising that the sin is not yours nor mine
(which would be personal and rude), it makes one feel virtuous by
proxy.
Mr. Geddie looked over for a suggestion how to proceed, to brother
Dowlas, who was quietly enjoying the scene. He knew what it was to be
flown away with by Pegasus, and then dropped helpless in a swamp. It
had happened to himself; but he was older now, and it was not
disagreeable to see his young friend meet the reward of his
overforwardness in this miscarriage.
Mr. Dowlas suggested that the present was properly to be considered a
meeting of members and office-bearers of the congregation, to
investigate certain rumours affecting the character of their acting
minister, and to decide what action, either by way of petition to the
Presbytery or otherwise, as might seem most expedient was to be taken
thereanent.
'Ay! Thereanent, Elluck! Hear ye that?' whispered a neighbour to Alec
Lamont, 'That's juist what they say e'y Presbytery. I ken, for I hae
heard them mysel'! A graund head for business he's gotten, that Mester
Dowlas. We's gang the richt gate to wark noo, I'm thinkin'. An' hear
till him noo, Elluck!' he continued. 'Hear til him noo!' while poor
Alec was straining his ears to listen, and was only prevented by the
chatter of his talkative neighbour.
Mr. Dowlas went on to propose that the postmaster, Mr. Prittie, act as
secretary to the meeting, which was carried with general applause; and
Ebenezer took a new quill pen from his drawer, examined the nib
critically on his nail, and then placed it thoughtfully between his
teeth, while he took his stand at the little shop desk. Observing the
tall stool he bethought him that a chairman was wanted, and forthwith
reciprocated the holy man's politeness by proposing that he take the
chair. Mr. Dowlas bearing in mind his own bulk, and surveying the tall
and slender legs of the stool, demurred, suggesting that the chair
should be filled by one of themselves--the Laird in fact. The Laird
declined with emphasis. He said that it would not be long till they
would not only regret, but be heartily ashamed of what they were
doing, that he would not compromise himself in their proceedings, even
so far as to be present, but that he thought it well that a friend of
both sides, who had not yet committed himself to a judgment without
evidence, should be present, to prevent mischief as far as possible.
No one ventured to retort. The majesty of wealth and prosperity
forbade that; but it may be safely said that for the moment the
kindness and goodwill of a lifetime did little to mitigate the
indignation begotten of that rebuke.
With some trepidation and much care, Mr. Dowlas clambered up to his
lofty perch, from which he looked giddily down. He could not now
_rise_ to speak, and there was nothing so abstruse going forward that
he need come down to the level of his hearers, wherefore he remained
where he was, and like the Queen addressing her Parliament, he spoke
seated.
He looked down over Ebenezer and his clean sheet of paper and directed
him how he should begin the minutes of the meeting, and then informed
his auditors that they might now consider the meeting as constituted,
and that it would be in order for some one to bring before it a
categorical statement of the business which had brought them together.
All eyes were turned on Ebenezer, but that terrible word 'categorical'
had proved a stumbler to him. Looks, winks and nods were in vain,
because he had resolved not to see them, and was busy remaking his
pen, and flicking the point with his thumb that the hair split might
come straight. Next they looked to Peter Malloch, but _he_ was
persistently looking to some one else, so that the electric influence,
if there was any, was simply passed along further by him as a
conductor, and nothing came of it.
'Is there no one,' said Mr. Dowlas at length, 'who will state the
purpose of this meeting? We have nothing before us which we can
consider or come to a decision upon, surely some one present could
repeat the charges and statements on which Mr. Geddie and myself were
induced to attend here.'
His eye had fallen on that of Andrew Semple, who was looking up and
listening with all attention, and there, unwittingly fixed, it had
remained, till Andrew feeling himself singled out and addressed
individually, stood up as by special command, and after some
introductory stammering, found voice.
'It's little I can say 'at I _ken_, Mester Dowlas, an' I see na what
for ye suld look to me to mak yer statement; but seein' ye're a
minister 'at kens what's richt, an' wad na be for leadin' simple folk
'at lippens to ye, intil harm, I'm no mindin' gin I say what I can. A
weel, sir, ye see it was just the very day our Davie was ta'en down
wi' the jandies. It may hae been on a Tuesday? Na, it was Wadnesday,
I'm gye an' sure it was a Wadnesday. I had gotten thegither a score o'
yows, an' I was just gaun to herd them down by til Elluc Powie's; an'
the gudewife she comes to me an' she says, "Andra," says she, "I'm
sair misdoubtin' but our Davie"--or na! It was "that puir bairn Davie"
she ca'd him. Ay! thae was her very words, "that he's gotten the
jandies, an', gin yer road's through Glen Effick, I wuss ye wad
just rin in as ye gang by, an' tell my Auntie Lillie, she's just
graund on the jandies." An', says I, "gudewife, I'll do yer biddin'."
An' sae, me an' my yows, an' my dug Bawtie--ay it was--Bawtie, I'm
thinkin'--Mustard had gotten a lang jag in's forepaw, sae he bed at
hame. Aweel, as I was sayin'--'
'Hurry up! Andra,' whispered the Laird, 'or it will be supper time
before you get through! I want to get home.'
'The truith's better nor rubies, Laird! speer the minister there gin
it's no! I wull no lee, for a' the lairds atween here an' Fruchie! an'
it's a sair job to be mindin' byganes. But, as I was sayin', minister,
we was just fornent the smiddie, (me, an' the yows, ye ken, an'
Bawtie) whan wha suld I see but Auntie Lillie hersel, an' says I to
her, "Hoo's a' wi' ye, Auntie?" says I--Na! that's no hit. It was her
'at says to me, "Andra Semple," says she, "but the sicht o' you's gude
for sair eyen," says she, an' syne she speered for the gudewife. An' I
up an' telled her hoo our Davie was down wi' the jandies, an' her, she
was sair afflicket to hear tell o't, for she's a rael kindly auld
body. An' says she to me, "It's just trouble an' affliction a' round,"
says she, "I'm thinkin' it's the days of the end 'at's comin' to
pass," says she. "An' there's nane to lippen til. We're just born til
evil as the sparks flee up. An' there's non that doeth gude, no not
wan," for she's weel grundet e'y scripter, our Auntie Lillie. "An'
ye'll no hae been hearin' what's come o'er our minister," says she,
"Him we a' tuk for sic a sonsie honest laad, an' a gude!--aweel gin a'
the folk says," says she, "be true, he's gaen clean wrang a'
thegither." An' sae she up an' telled me a' 'at a'body kens a'ready;
an' ye a' ken't, an' that's just hoo I cam to hear tell o't at the
first. An' sae I hae telled ye a' I ken.'
'But you have told us nothing at all,' said the Laird, 'except that
your Auntie Lillie has skill with the "Jandies," and it was not that
we assembled to hear about, though it is a far more useful thing to
know than the other stuff. I think we had better go home!'
'Patience! brethren,' said the chairman, 'let us cultivate a calm and
judicious frame of mind. What was it, Andrew, that your aunt told you
about the minister?'
'Hear-say evidence!' interjected the Laird.
'Not at all! It is not evidence in the legal sense we are after at
present, simply a beginning of some kind,--an allegation, a statement
to be afterwards sifted. Now, Andrew Semple, what was it your aunt
told you about Mr. Brown?'
'Aweel, sir, she telled me o' the bairn 'at auld Eppie Ness was takin'
tent on; an' I says, ne'er misdoubtin' wrang, ye ken, says I, "It's
juist like him; it's him 'at's aye doin' gude." An' Auntie Lillie she
just leugh, an' gae a kin' o' glint o' the e'e, an' syne she gae the
ither nicker, an' says she, "Andra," she says, "Semple's yer name, an'
simple's yer natur! It's his ain bairn, bless ye!--the pawkie young
sneckdrawer 'at we a' thocht was sae blate an' sae douce. I canna but
laugh whiles, to think sic fules as he has made o' us, for a' it's sae
wrang." "But it's no true," says I. "That's just the fash o't," quo'
she; "it's ower true! There's no a wife e'y hale glen 'at disna ken a'
about it."'
'You affirm, then, that it is commonly reported, Andrew,' said the
chairman, 'that the infant adopted by Mr. Brown is his own child? Here
is an allegation which the ecclesiastical authorities cannot possibly
let pass unsifted. On what authority is the assertion made?'
'Just a' body tells the same tale. An' I hae telled ye a' 'at I ken,
an' that's naething!'
The ice being broken, every one was now willing to contribute a
surmise or a circumstance, till in the end they had worked up the
narrative to the full strength at which it was circulating out of
doors.
'And now,' said the chairman, 'we have the accusation before us; and
yet, strange to say, there is no accuser. We have here a public
scandal, a case which would give the enemy ground to blaspheme. We
must do our duty to the Church by taking steps for the removal of its
withered branch. Now, who will undertake the Christian duty of
libelling Mr. Brown before the Presbytery? Will the Session do it? or
will the members of Session do it? It is a thing that must be done!
You are all guilty of connivance, and are in fact accessories to the
sin. Will the Session undertake to present the libel?'
'I won't for one,' said the Laird. 'I believe it to be all idle
tattle. You have not a thread of evidence to support your libel,
whatever.'
'Is there no one whom we could examine, so as to get at the facts?'
'Here's Joseph the bederal,' said Peter Malloch. 'The minister's man
sees mair o' him nor ither folk!'
'I ken naething!' said Joseph, coming forward with a troubled look,
'naething ava! I'm ower weel kenned for a douce an' peacefu'
Christian, for ony body to let on to me, gin their walk and
conversation wasna what they suld be.'
Mr. Geddie appeared touched, and began to observe more attentively
this excellent person.
'Did you see Mr. Brown bring home this infant?'
'No sir; but I saw the bairn in Miss Brown's arms, no lang after.'
'Where was the child brought from?'
'Naebody kens.'
'The child was brought from the seashore,' interposed the Laird,
'where it had been cast by the waves after a shipwreck. Mr. Brown
never made any mystery about that!'
'Ah yes!' broke forth Mr. Geddie in his most dulcet cadence, 'charity
never faileth! It is good for us to be here! This simple undoubting
credence in our beloved and highly esteemed brother, is refreshing to
the soul, as the grapes of Eshcol in a thirsty land! We know, my
brethren, that we must all become as little children, trustful and
believing in the gospel message. And here is one who has been
nourished on the slopes of Carmel, in the footsteps of the flock, on
whom the heaven has dropped her fatness, and the wisdom of the word
has been his abundant nourishment. He is as a prince among us, and
dwells in his own land among his flocks and herds, with none to make
him afraid. Lo! my brethren, behold the simple and confiding innocency
of our well-beloved brother, and his charity that never faileth, and
his voice that is as the voice of a dove. But ah! my brethren, this is
not the primeval Eden of our earliest progenitors! Alas! the trail of
the serpent can be traced among the flowers! Sin has entered on our
goodly land, and though we should still seek to be harmless as the
dove, the wisdom of the serpent is also required, and we are cautioned
to arm ourselves with that wisdom, even before we show the lovely
gentleness of the bird of beauty, whose wings are sprinkled with
silver, and its feathers with yellow gold. It is a wicked world, my
friends, and while we may well envy our brother his beautiful charity
of soul, we are clearly called upon to take heed to our steps, and not
to be deceived by the cunning craftiness of evil men.'
An angry flush suffused the forehead of the Laird. I sadly fear he was
not the heavenly-minded person depicted by the gushing preacher. He
certainly would have resented and repudiated the portrait himself, and
would have liked to detect some palpable sign of ironical intent, that
he might quarrel with the man on the spot. But the preacher continued
to regard him with his most lambent and seraphic smile, and in perfect
good faith, without the smallest tinge of mockery. The audience, too,
bore the outpouring in the best possible spirit. It struck them as
very pretty language, and no doubt the Laird deserved it, though that
was scarcely the view of his excellences which had hitherto presented
itself to their minds; however, no doubt, the minister being a learned
man knew best.
Joseph was the only person present whose sense of humour was in any
way disturbed. When he heard the Laird likened to a bird of beauty,
his wandering eyes alighted on his honour's bald and blushing poll. He
felt tempted to grin, but checked himself in time, raised his eyes to
the ceiling and sighed long and softly, like one recovering breath
after a protracted draught of sweetness. Mr. Dowlas bore the effusion
with entire composure. Such bearing is a necessary gift in the
eloquent professions. He had often had to practise it for the behoof
of his fellows, and he suspected that they too had had reason to use
it for his. He took up the examination.
'How was this infant brought home? he asked of Joseph.
'On Patey Soutar's pownie, sir. The minister cam hame ridin'.'
'Patey Soutar!' ejaculated Ebenezer, 'Patey Soutar the cadger? The
maist ill doin' drucken vagabond e'y parish. Ye may tak yer aith the
minister was after nae gude whan he gaed ridin' Patey Soutar's
pownie!'
'Did you see him riding it then?' asked the Laird.
'No sir, but I heard tell o't.'
'Who told you?'
'I'm sure I canna say, sir.'
'Then we must question Soutar himself.'
'He's the warst leear e'y glen!' cried Joseph, who had no desire that
it should be found out that it was himself who had procured Patey's
pony for the minister. Had that come out, and the object of the
minister's journey, all the suspicion and mystery would have fallen to
pieces; and while he had no deliberate wish to injure the minister
(whom indeed he liked as well as any one, except Joseph Smiley), yet
if somebody else did it, and if Tibbie could be induced to join, why
then his suit to Jean Macaulay might come to something. His attitude,
therefore, may be described as 'expectant,' and his policy, to use his
own words, was 'to haud a man on his ain gate.'
'And what do you think about this yourself, Joseph?' asked Mr. Geddie.
'A weel sir! I dinna weel ken just what to think; but my granny had an
auld sayin' 'at there was "aye water whaur the stirk was drowned," an'
I'm feared it's a true ane, for the heart of man rins on evil
continual, we hae Scripter for that, an' the flesh is waik ye ken,
sir, for, after a', ministers are but men, though wi' a hantle grace
they may come to great things, as in yer ain case,' said this polite
Joseph.
Mr. Geddie was visibly touched,--the tribute was as unexpected as it
was gratifying. 'Evidently a very superior man,' he thought, 'and one
who has the root of the matter in him. He seems to know his Bible well
too.'
'And now,' said Mr. Dowlas, 'what is to be the result of our
deliberations? We dare not let this matter drop. Of all here present,
who will sustain before the Presbytery the libel that must be drawn?'
'Who _can_ sustain it?' said the Laird, 'that is what I want to know.'
'There is clearly a _fama clamosa_ in this parish, against the acting
minister, destroying his usefulness, and injurious to the church. If
some of the office-bearers here present will frame a libel, it will be
the best and most expeditious mode of proceeding; if not, Mr. Geddie
and I must bring this _fama clamosa_ before the Presbytery, that it
may deal with it as in its wisdom may appear best, and I call on you
all here present to assist us in the work! Further, it seems to me
that we should appoint a committee to visit and deal with the
suspected transgressors, in all faithfulness and love. Who knows but
they may be brought to a due sense of their offences, and may make
confession (which would simplify proceedings)? Or at any rate such
admissions as they may make, will be of assistance in framing our
libel.'
'Wha's that he's gaun tae gar confess?' asked Alec Lamont. 'I ne'er
heard the name afore. Phemie wha? I'm thinkin' ye hae her name wrang,
minister!' he continued in a louder voice. 'Her name's no Phemie ava,
it's juist Tibbie Tirpie!'
Alec was speedily reduced to silence by his neighbours, and Mr. Dowlas
went on.
'I have important duties at home which will call me away to-morrow,
but I propose that the committee to call on and deal with the parties
under suspicion, be as follows:--To represent the Presbytery, Brother
Geddie, who, I feel sure, will see it his duty to remain over, Mr.
Sangster and Mr. Prittie to represent the Eldership, Mr. Peter Malloch
the Deacons and congregation.'
'For myself,' said the Laird, 'I will accompany your deputation to
wait on Mr. Brown, if it were only to show him that there are some who
believe in him still; but as for visiting the young woman who has had
the ill luck to fall under the suspicion of this meeting, I must crave
to be excused. How any man can think of going on such an errand to a
lonely old woman and her daughter is beyond my comprehension. For
myself, I could not do it.'
'Duty, brother! duty!' cried Mr. Geddie. 'That should be the watchword
of every true soldier of the cross! Likings and dislikes will go for
nothing in the eyes of true wisdom when duty calls, and _her_ ways are
ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace!'