2. Liliias Dunbar (Mrs. Campbell)
Liliias Dunbar was born about 1657, the only daughter of Dunbar of Boggs and his wife Christian, daughter of Sir John Campbell of Calder. Being orphaned while still very young, she was cared for during her childhood by two cousins, first Sir Hugh Campbell of Calder, and then Lady Duffus of Elgin. Though restrained from gross outward sins by the Christian teaching she received in their homes, Liliias felt no serious impressions of the Truth until her 16th year, when she became dangerously ill with smallpox. Under this sickness, she vowed that, if spared, she would strive to become a true servant of God, and attend the ministry of the Presbyterian preachers, who far surpassed the episcopal clergy both in spirituality and usefulness in turning sinners to Christ and building up the people of God. At that time, however, she did not perceive how much popery and will-worship there was in Episcopacy, nor did she understand that the sufferings of the Presbyterians was for such a weighty matter as the Kingly office of Christ.
On recovering from this illness, she returned from Elgin to Calder, where several godly ministers, notably Thomas Ross, Thomas Hog, and James Urquhart were preaching; but while she prized their ministry, she also confessed that “the getting of Christ and a new heart” was not her first desire, but “to get something in herself to answer God’s goodness with.”
In 1677, Liliias suffered a heavy affliction in the death of Lady Duffus, her kind cousin and benefactor, whereupon she left Elgin, without having any prospect of a new home. That this providence was blessed to her is evident from a diary entry of May 1st of that year: “Now I cannot pass by without observing the wisdom and goodness of God to me. It was the time I was most desolate. Then it was that the gracious God, who delights in showing mercy, did enlarge my heart, and made me to take hold of Him who is the pearl of great price, in whom all fulness dwells . . . The Lord, who is the Almighty, by His power, made my soul to close with the Lord Jesus, wholly on the terms that the Gospel holdeth forth; and the Lord Himself gave me faith to believe in Jesus Christ, that He was my Saviour, which I could never attain before that time on good grounds. On that blessed morning to me, I got the Rock of Ages to be my support, and I got Jesus Christ to be to me the end of the Law for righteousness, to comfort me.” Shortly afterwards she adds: “Truly, I think, nothing less than deliverance out of soul troubles, and the love of Christ, could make me overcome the loss of her who was my all in the world; my pleasure, honour and riches were all in her, but how soon was all this laid in the dust to me. Yet praises for ever be to Him who did it, so that we both were gainers. She hath passed from the valley of misery, and, as she herself said at her death, hath gotten the palm tree in her hand, and now she walks with the Lamb in white. As for my part, for brass I have gotten gold, for a fading flower I have gotten the noble Plant of Renown, who is the brightness of the Father’s glory and the express image of His Person.” In recalling this ‘time of love,’ Miss Dunbar does not fail to mention the great help she received through the words of Thomas Hog, whom she calls ‘the Bridegroom’s Friend.’ Visiting him in Forres earlier that year, she found his description of her spiritual case so accurate, though she had told him nothing of it, and his parting words: “Fear not, ye seek Jesus” so penetrating and encouraging, that she was given no rest until Christ revealed Himself to her soul.
A noteworthy event of the same year was Miss Dunbar’s visit, accompanied by a friend, Mrs. Jean Taylor, to the godly Thomas Ross, then a prisoner in Tain. “We found much of the presence of God in his company,” she writes, “and our hearts opened to one another to tell of the goodness of God to our souls. Being alone with him next morning, I told him all the particular steps I could remember of my soul exercises since . . . being his hearer two years before . . . Mr. Thomas wept for joy, and I was so filled with a sense of the wonderful power of God, and His love to my soul in Christ Jesus, that I was put to silence for a while, and could not get expressions to vent the ocean of His love.”
In 1679, Miss Dunbar was married to Alexander Campbell of Torrach, a man of genuine and intelligent piety, whose character, habits and tastes were very congenial to her own. Their domestic happiness was interrupted, however, after six years, when, at the height of the ‘killing time,’ her husband was forced to flee to Ireland, having been summoned before the Privy Council for supporting the Presbyterian cause. Mrs. Campbell herself, remaining behind to nurse her ailing mother, was sentenced to be banished from the country, but the death of Charles Stuart and the accession of his brother James led to her being overlooked, a fact which she afterwards remembered with gratitude.
It was during the persecution period that Mrs. Campbell was also deprived of the minister who had been most instrumental in her spiritual growth, Rev. Thomas Hog. His banishment from Morayshire caused her deep sorrow, and on his restoration after the Revolution of 1688, she and her husband paid him a memorable visit at Muirtown. The outcome was very salutary for her. On wishing to know his thoughts concerning her spiritual state, she received nothing but a refusal to comment; on mentioning several inward troubles, to which she could not submit, she was reproved for pride and stubbornness of spirit; and the next day on expressing her fears that some sharp trial was awaiting her to test the reality of the submissiveness she had now been given, she was firmly but lovingly told to beware of anxious thoughts about the future, and to trust confidently in God, this faithful servant adding pointedly the words of Job: “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.” “Thus,” she wrote, “did the blessed man press me to live the life of faith, and took leave of me, embracing me as a father does his child, saying: ‘You and I shall be together with the Lord forever’.”
Shortly afterwards (Jan. 4th, 1692) she was called to mourn his death. “It was not a surprise to me,” she wrote, “though great matter of lamentation. My husband and I had seen him in August. We then saw that he was near the end of his journey, by his spirit being transported with the hopes of glory, and his bodily health and strength failed.” Among the many observations she made of his Christian character and life, the following may serve as a sample: “He had a large measure of the Spirit of God, by which he knew the deep things of God . . . He had a divine experimental understanding of the Scriptures, of the work of conversion, and cases of conscience . . . He was a Caleb indeed, who followed the Lord fully in his ministry, in prison, in banishment, in strange lands and unto death. Even the haters of godliness were forced to own that God was in him of a truth, and that he kept his integrity.” Despite the great sense of loss she felt at his death, Mrs. Campbell was singularly blessed in that providence. “His removal,” she wrote, “made the world desolate in my esteem, and raised my affections from things below to things above, where Christ and the spirits of just men made perfect are. In my mourning I was made to bless the Lord, who had put an end to the sufferings of his faithful servant, and to submit to His will who had said: “He that will be my servant, let him follow me; and where I am, there shall my servant be.” While noting that he suffered much bodily pain previous to his death, she concludes with the remark that he “went out of the world praising and rejoicing.”
Between the Revolution and her own death, Mrs. Campbell became increasingly exercised in secret prayer, in spite of the demands of a large household (she had twelve children). Her habit of rising very early prompted friends to wonder why her sleeping hours were so consistently curtailed, especially as she was not obliged to work herself, to which she replied that she did not wish to give the enemies of religion opportunity to accuse her of neglecting her worldly business through attention to her devotions.
Towards the close of her life, Mrs. Campbell’s ill-health brought in its train a great deal of spiritual depression, so that she was often “tempest-tossed, and not comforted” concerning her own interest in Christ. But the following Scriptures became exceedingly precious to her under this trial: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance,” “Look unto Me, all the ends of the earth, and be ye saved,” “The whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.” Yet even afterwards, when new darkness descended over her soul, she noticed that even these truths gave her no comfort, unless they were conveyed to her with new power. Mrs. Jean Taylor, however, who remained her constant companion throughout her declining years, informed Rev. James Calder of Croy (Mrs. Campbell’s grandson and an esteemed minister of the Gospel), that she attained great stability and enjoyed much Gospel comfort for some years before her death.
When the last enemy finally approached, Mrs. Campbell was not only calm and resigned, but also expressed a holy exultation of spirit. Calling her friends to sing with her once more on earth the praises of her best-Beloved, she joined in with particular ardour, the sweetness and elevation of her spirit and voice being observed by all present. After a few words of triumphant faith, she raised her eyes towards heaven, and her soul sprang forward to meet her heavenly Bridegroom, who had come to receive and embrace her with His everlasting love.
After her death, many of Mrs. Campbell’s relatives and descendants were greatly used by God in preaching the Gospel for which she had suffered, perhaps the most eminent being the Calders, father and son, and Dr. Charles C. Mackintosh of Tain.
To rely upon Christ and not be weary of sin is presumption, not faith.
Rutherford.
Faith is ever neighbour to a contrite spirit, and it is impossible that faith can be where there is not a cast down and contrite heart in some measure for sin.
Rutherford