THE notice of Margaret Macpherson in the last issue of the Magazine caused the present writer to remember his faults in the matter of a long-neglected duty. For it is now a considerable time since he was asked to give an account of another Margaret, also a daughter of the King, whose name may be considered not unworthy of some memorial. Her history carries us back further still; for she has been dead well-nigh these five years; but that is a matter for which no apology need be offered. The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance; and the mere points in the movement of time within which their life has been lived are not of so much consequence.
How diverse are the circumstances of God’s children, the members of one family, and how varied the conditions under which they run the same race and fight the same good fight of faith. For her part, Margaret MacKinnon began her life under the shadow of the hills of Néther-Lochaber; there, with but short intervals, she passed all her days, and there her body rests in its grave till the Resurrection. Born in 1869, she was brought up at Onich with her uncle, Mr. Duncan MacKinnon, and there she died in the spring of 1896, having just completed her twenty-fifth year.
Of outward incident in her life there is not much to tell. In those features of it that the eye can see, it was not much different from the life of many other girls in similar circumstances. Only it is worthy of remark that, in common with most others who are sooner or later brought to the knowledge of the Saviour, she was the subject of religious impressions at a very early age. When yet a child at school, the Spirit of God began to strive with her, and she used to think much of Eternity and to be troubled for her sins. But these impressions would soon wear away, and the natural light-heartedness of youth reassert itself. Not permanently, however; as she grew older there were times when the interests of the soul overshadowed all else. When working in the fields she has been known to cry out, as if much agitated, “O, teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”
It was during a communion season at Onich that she underwent a saving change. The preacher, it may not be out of place to mention, was Rev. Mr. Macfarlane, Raasay, then of Kilmallie. His text was Jeremiah xiv. 8, and it was when the verse was being read that the Spirit applied the Word with power to her heart and conscience. She saw in the light of Divine illumination the glory of the Hope of Israel and the Saviour in the time of trouble, and she was led to embrace Him by faith as her own Hope and her own Saviour. From that time forward her hope was within the veil, and she looked at the things that are unseen and eternal.
Two features in her character may be singled out for notice. One was her warm love to the Lord’s people. They were the excellent, in whom was her delight, the people whose companionship, above all others, she desired. She has been known to walk some fifteen miles, over hill and dale, to visit some of the household of faith, and never was she happier than when an opportunity was given her of showing them kindness. The other characteristic was her more than ordinary penetration of mind. Even in the days of her spiritual ignorance she was a shrewd judge of character. A little incident of those early days may be mentioned in illustration of this. One night she dressed herself as a gipsy and went round among the neighbouring houses, asking alms. This was not merely the light frolic it at first sight appears. She meant it as a test of the district’s charity, and afterwards declared that her reception in each case only confirmed her previous impressions of the kind of people her neighbours were. Elevated and expanded through Divine grace, this faculty passed over into a keen spiritual discernment. She was not easily imposed upon by appearances. Of a man in the neighbourhood, who had begun to make a profession of religion, and who was much thought of by many of the Lord’s people, she remarked significantly, “Is Saul also among the prophets?” The doubt implied in these words was afterwards proved to have been only too amply justified. She saw through the hollowness of much that passed for religion around her, and when, for example, she heard of some who were being admitted to the Lord’s Table in an adjoining congregation, she was much grieved, and deplored the unfaithfulness of those who made the terms of admission so liberal that an open door was left even for the careless and the worldly.
At the time of the formation of the Free Presbyterian Church she became a warmly attached adherent, and few had a more intelligent understanding of its distinctive principles. She had an intense admiration for the ministers who originally constituted the Church; and when, as sometimes happened, she heard them disparaged as lacking in capacity to lead such a movement, she was ever ready to champion their cause and to express her conviction that the day was coming when their action should be vindicated in Scotland and their names held in veneration as the real friends of Truth.
A visit to Inverness about this time proved to herself one of the most memorable events in her life. She had a few days’ holidays, and decided to spend them in the North. It happened to be the Communion season in Inverness. She was, of course, an entire stranger, but she inquired her way to the place of meeting. As she entered, these lines were being sung in the sixteenth Psalm—
“God is of mine inheritance
And cup the portion;
The lot that fallen is to me,
Thou dost maintain alone.”
The words were accompanied with singular power to her soul; and the place became to her a veritable Bethel, where she anointed the pillar and vowed a vow. She seems to have experienced, during that whole season, much spiritual comfort and quickening. Many a time in after days she would go back to it in memory, and especially she would seek to reproduce, both in matter and manner, the singing that had been so sweet to her then.
But her days on earth were destined to be few. In August of 1895 she contracted an illness which gradually developed into consumption, and some six months later she fell asleep in Jesus. Her latter end was glorious. About a month before her death her soul seemed to rise quite above the trammels of its house of clay, and she thought or spoke of little else but the things of eternity. Her spirit was singularly chastened and subdued. One came to see her from whom she had been somewhat estranged—I think on account of ecclesiastical questions—and her words on seeing her were, “A free forgiveness to all on earth!” On the day on which she died it was indeed in her case light at eventide. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “I have much joy”; and a little later she cried again, “My joy is increasing!” “Do you see the angels?” she said after a while; “I see them. They are very many, and their robes are shining white.” Then she asked the time, and on being told, she replied, “In half an hour I shall join the angels. They are waiting for me with a smile on their faces.” Her prediction was fulfilled to the letter. In exactly half-an-hour she peacefully breathed her last.
A. S.