The doctor was first called in on July 25th, 1950. Among other things, he ordered him to give up preaching. The reply was—”I hope not.” Though he knew that he would never preach again in public, he wished to continue to preach in private, and indeed his death-bed was a practical exposition of the scripture, “O death where is thy sting, O grave where is thy victory?” About midnight on Friday, the 28th, he took a heart attack and doctor had to be called. After getting over this attack, and getting a few hours’ sleep he said that he could say as the late Mr. Macdonald, Shieldaig, when coming out of a weakness, “If only He had taken me how happy I would be.” Then he told his daughter that the earthly tabernacle was breaking down, and instead of looking for comfort and sympathy he was only giving comfort and good counsel. He was very happy and contented with his lot and was seeing that all the comfort and attention he was receiving had come through the sufferings and death of Christ, and would say repeatedly, “He is wonderful.” More than once at worship he prayed to be kept from bringing reproach on the cause of Christ, for if left to himself he would do that even nearing his journey’s end.
On hearing of the many persons of all denominations who were calling to ask for him, he wondered he should have such a place in the minds of the people.
His last text (Rev. xxi, 6, 7, 8) had never gone from his mind, and he would say, “I was never sorry that I drank of the fountain of the water of life.” Being so comforted with God’s presence and so swallowed up with His goodness, he would say almost daily, “I am better off than the King on the throne.” Both day and night he was singing Psalms: “An dachaidh bheran,” and a song of praise and love to his “Darling Jesus,” beseeching Him to come to be with him in the dark valley of the shadow of death as the “Friend that sticketh closer than a brother.” While being washed one morning he was praying the appropriate words in Psalm li (in Gaelic). One of those days he was asked if he had any message to leave to the Sabbath School children in whom he was so interested. “Yes,” he replied, “just after I gave out my last text I felt I was before the congregation for the last time and I wished to leave life and death before them, and I would like the same to be put before the children.” The love and sufferings of Christ was his theme daily, and at one time he said, “Oh! the two great hands that were pierced with the nails of my sins.”
On August 1st, when very weak, he expressed the desire to see his former pastor, the Rev. D. J. Matheson, who, on being informed, travelled overnight and arrived in Lairg in the early morning. The change on that morning, in Charles’ condition, seemed miraculous—he looked so well and lively—but it was only temporary. That afternoon he relapsed and when asked why he was not singing he replied—”One can’t sing at all times; singing for the mere name of it won’t do.” On Friday after Mr. Matheson’s departure, he said, “All that’s before me now is, how am I to be taken? Will it be sudden?” On being asked how he would like it to be, he said, “I can say, ‘Thy will be done.’ His will is best.” He then expressed a wish to see his son Eleneth, and spoke of him frequently till he arrived on Saturday, 5th August. How he welcomed him and told him about his happiness at the prospect of death. Once or twice he quoted the words—”Happy art thou, O Israel, who is like unto thee, O people saved by the Lord.” To another visitor about that same time he said that he would not part with what he was enjoying—not for thousands of worlds.
Early on Sabbath, 6th August, he said, “This is the Sabbath. How foolish and ignorant people are, expecting peace of body and mind, and the way the Sabbath is desecrated.” Satan at that time made no attempt to harass him, but the dart was quenched by the shield of faith, and right on to the journey’s end he enjoyed peace and full assurance. On that same morning he expressed the desire that he would not be taken on the Sabbath to cause any disturbance on the Lord’s Day.
Mr. A. Robertson, who held the services that Sabbath in Lairg, asked if he desired to send any message to the congregation. His message was to remind them of his last text (Rev. xxi, 6, 7, 8) and the solemnities contained in those verses.
Throughout that week he often said, “It’s a wonder He is not coming to take me now, but I must be submissive and wait His time.” Several times he spoke of the futility of making a foundation of duties and would say—”Nothing is of any avail but the blood of Christ.” On one occasion, after speaking at some length on the love of Christ, he said, “I could speak on and on, on the side of Christ.”
One morning, having wakened up with the words of Isaiah vi, 9, he wished the verse to be read so that he might have it correctly. The passage was very sweet to him, and he would say, now and again, “His name is wonderful.”
On Friday again he expressed the desire that the change would not come on the Sabbath. He continued, day after day, in the same happy frame, rejoicing in the Lord.
Early on Thursday morning of Bonar Communion he expressed the desire he would not die so soon as that his funeral would interfere with the services at Bonar, and again desired that he would not be taken on the Lord’s Day. In answer to these God-honouring desires he was given these words, “Them that honour me, I will honour.”
Having heard on Friday of the death of Matron MacGillvray, Inverness, he mourned the loss to the Church, but later on said, “I am rejoicing that Matron MacGillvray has been taken home.” That evening at worship he took Psalm xii, and in his prayer made reference to the gathering home of God’s people. He sent a message to the Matron’s nieces at Stratherrick. His mind was much with the people who were gathered at the Bonar Bridge Communion—that being the first Bonar Bridge Communion from which he was absent. One morning, having wakened up with the angels’ song in Luke, “Glory to God in the Highest,” he desired that portion to be read to him. Another day while praying for preparation for death (as he was doing without ceasing) he asked that he might hear the angels sing “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts,” and afterwards wished those verses in Isaiah vi to be read.
His prayers at worship, owing to his bodily weakness, were short but so earnest. As he was concluding prayer one evening he was given such a ravishing view of “the altogether lovely One” that he wept aloud. Another passage which came with power was—”Who is a God like unto Thee, that pardoneth iniquity and passeth by the transgression of the remnant of His heritage,” so he asked for Micah vii to be read at worship.
Early on Thursday, the 24th August, Psalm 137 came to his mind and he began to repeat it. Later in the day he requested that that Psalm should be sung at his funeral and that Rev. R. R. Sinclair should lead the singing, and added, “Who could not weep over Zion in our day—our land is just like a foreign land.”
The following day he said that if he were taken before the Sabbath he would not like that any should transgress the fourth commandment by coming to see his remains. Realising that Friday, the 25th August, was the day of Laig show and sports, he again quoted “By Babel’s streams we sat and wept when Zion we thought on” and broke down at the low state of religion. He then said, “How sad it is that among all those gathered there to-day there is not one that fears the Lord, for they that truly fear the Lord know how easily the Holy Spirit is grieved and therefore cannot go to carnal amusements.”
A minister who visited him about this time said, “He will never leave thee or forsake thee.” The reply was, “If He would I would be most miserable.”
During the last few days in August his sickness was very severe, yet instead of complaining he was so thankful he was left in his right mind, so conscious and clear. In his weakness, one day, he was pleading, “Hold up my goings” and said, “Even although I am so near my journey’s end if He will not hold up my goings I will bring a reproach on the Cause.” On Wednesday, 30th August, when he was longing to be taken that truth came—”My time is not yet; your time is always ready.” In his sickness he would say time and again—”Oh, to be kept reconciled to His will.” He wished the fourth verse of Psalm 106 to be repeated. On Friday morning he wished that verse to be quoted in full relating to the hope which entereth into that within the veil. Saturday having found him very sick and uncomfortable, he said—”It’s a long time for a longing soul,” and when it was said to him, “He will satisfy the longing soul,” he replied, “Yes, in His own time.”
Though conscious to the very last and reconciled to God’s will, he was much too weak in body for conversation, apart from telling his bodily needs and speaking a few words to the praise of the Redeemer. At 11.20 p.m., September 5th, he “fell asleep.”—Sent for publication by REV. D. J. MATHESON.—Editor.