IN a godless generation, when the authority of the Word of God, the foundations of our once beautiful Zion, the true and unfeigned love of the brethren are fast vanishing away, it is incumbent upon all who love the truth of God, take pleasure in the stones, and favour the dust of Zion, to gather up the fragments that nothing be lost. It is indeed a pleasure to us to recall the sweet memory of the godly men and women of the past, and the few still left will, like David, say, “When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me; for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holy day.” In Scotland, as well as in Judah’s land, God was well known, and His name great in Israel. Not less was this true of Strontian, near the head of Loch Sunart, than of many other places in the Highlands of Scotland.
Loch Sunart is in the north of the county of Argyll, and within a mile from the head of this beautiful loch, stretching northward, is the charming valley of Strontian. No scenery in Scotland can surpass the natural beauty of this place. There, at the head of this valley, made lovely by the Author of nature, the subject of the following remarks saw first this valley of Baca. Donald Macmaster came of pious parents; both his father and mother were known as God-fearing persons. He was born in the year 1821. In his childhood and youth, a good example was set before him. In the place there were a goodly number of pious men and women, who influenced greatly the young by their godly example. In the year 1843 Donald was awakened to realize that he was a lost sinner, under the preaching of the Rev. Alexander Macintyre. Mr. Macintyre was truly a polished shaft in the hand of the Holy Spirit, and many not only in Scotland but also in Australia (where he died a few years ago) will bless the adorable Head of the Church throughout eternity for making the feet of this witness beautiful upon the mountains of these widely separated lands. His text that day was—”Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof; because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty.”—(Judges v. 23). The effect upon Donald’s mind was both deep and lasting. About the same time, a discourse upon Luke xv. 4, by the godly Kenneth Ross, influenced his mind greatly. But, as he was of a very reserved disposition, few or none got any of his experiences at that time. The thoroughness of the change none ever doubted, and the true people of God found in him one who sympathised with them both in their joys and sorrows. In private conversation, he manifested a deep insight into the depravity of man’s nature; the awful majesty and spirituality of the law of God; the abject inability of the sinner to obey the infinite claims of justice; the rectitude of God in demanding perfect obedience, on pain of eternal punishment; the efficacy of Christ’s atonement to satisfy both the justice of God and the conscience of the sinner; and the unavoidable necessity of the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit in order to be saved. In his public exercises he was very helpful to the humble, causing them to feel low in their own eyes, and making Christ more precious to them. We often compared him to the woman who broke the alabaster box on Christ’s head—the house would be filled with the odour of the ointment. None could hear him pray without feeling that he drank deeply of the waters of Marah, and also of the river which flows clear as crystal from the throne of God and the Lamb. His knowledge of the Word of God was both profound and accurate. The Bible was his constant companion, but especially on the Sabbath day. A friend who lived with him told us that, while in robust health, he always rose on the Sabbath morning between five and six and spent the whole day, except the time required for public worship, between prayer and reading. He never read any book on the Sabbath but the Word of God. He often said, “A house without worship or prayer is the most pitiable of all places on earth.” On the Fridays, at the fellowship meetings, he often gave the question but could never be got to speak. It is believed that his reason was that he never deemed himself capable of expounding the truth, probably from the fear of not doing it justice and of hurting the oil or the wine. His low estimation of himself caused him never to do anything in the public save to read the Word and pray. He fulfilled the office of the eldership for 28 years, and manifested a real interest in, and deep concern for, the affairs of the Church of Christ. In this he was not alone, as it could be truly said of his brother elders that they feared God and spoke often one to another about these things. As time rolled onwards, one after another of these faithful men departed to be with Christ, and left Donald—with another of the good old stamp—to mourn the evils done in the sanctuary. This other still survives, like a sparrow on the housetop, alone. May the Lord be the strength of his heart now, and his portion for ever. The brotherly love which existed between Donald Macmaster and those godly men was truly stronger than death. The two ministers to whom his affections clave to the last were the Rev. Alexander Macintyre and the Rev. John MacQueen (late of Daviot). Both predeceased him a few years. It was not the Demas-like love of this generation that united these men; but the true, unselfish, and easily-to-be-entreated love from the pure fountain of life. “He that loveth Him that begat, will also love him that is begotten of Him.” It was the charity which cannot bear with that which is evil. Uprightness, strict honesty, and truthfulness characterised these men. Their friendship was sincere, constant, and faithful, and Donald was not surpassed by any of them in this. His maxim was, “Owe no man anything, but to love one another; for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law.” He was of a very retiring, meek, and modest disposition, but, being very intelligent and observant, he watched all the movements both in the Church and State with deep interest and concern. The deplorable departures of the Free Church from the principles and doctrines of the Reformation caused him much grief and anxiety. He often spent the most of the night on his knees, pleading for the cause of Christ in the land, and for the rising generation. When that odious Declaratory Act became the creed and constitution of that Church—as it manifestly shows how she receives the Word of God and the Confession of Faith—and when a few refused to leave the good old foundations laid by our godly forefathers on the eternal rock of truth, he became one of them in spirit though confined to the house and mostly to his bed. He compared the ministers who submitted to this new creed and constitution to those who accepted the “indulgences” at the time of the last persecution in Scotland. Indeed, the comparison almost agrees in every detail. He said:—”Though I had the wealth of Sir William Mackinnon I would not support that Church in the least, in her faithlessness to the truth of God, and to immortal souls.” He gave it as his opinion that it was right of the people of God to have no fellowship with her. He was for a long time very anxious that the true state of the question between the Declaratory Act Church and the Free Presbyterian Church should be explained to the people of Strontian. After this was done, he was much grieved that none of the men there led the people by holding meetings separate from that Church. Soon thereafter he heard that the young were to have a soiree or concert, and he said—”They have banished the gospel out of their coasts, and they have opened their doors to all ungodliness.” He considered the times very perilous and exceedingly dark. Till the Saturday before his death there was nothing unusual to be observed about his trouble, but during that day he became much weaker. Towards the evening he said—”The end of all things is at hand.” At nine o’clock he conducted family worship as usual. After this he got much weaker, called them to his bedside, and told them that he was now going to leave them. “I have,” he said, “endeavoured to set a good example before you. Search the Scriptures late and early, and who knows but the Lord may bless it to your souls. And oh, remember the Sabbath day! The Sabbath, the Sabbath, the Sabbath! And if my end should come on the Sabbath day, which is very likely, see that you will not break that holy day by sending telegrams or notices of my death.” Shortly after this he said—”This is death. ‘O death where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory?’ He has taken the sting out of death Himself; blessed for ever be His name.” About one o’clock in the afternoon of the Sabbath, 29th March, 1896, he peaceably breathed his last, at the age of 75 years. So ended the earthly career of this man of God. His cheerful, meek, but grave countenance we shall see no more till Christ shall come in the clouds to judge the quick and the dead. On that day he will be a witness against many who neglect the great salvation at Strontian. A few still living there will cherish his memory till they close their eyes in death, and will lift their heads with him in the joys of eternal immortality on the last day. N. C.