WE regret to notice this month the death of Mrs. Taylor, Sinclair Street, Halkirk, Caithness, which took place on the 1st December last. The deceased was the widow of Mr. William Taylor, whose death was recorded in this Magazine in March, 1908. Mrs. Taylor, who had reached the ripe age of 81 years, was highly respected by all who knew her as a Christian woman of the old stamp, distinguished for piety and prudence. She had come under the saving power of the truth in days gone by, and her life was evidently “hid with Christ in God.” She possessed considerable discernment and grasp of divine things, and understood well public questions concerning the Church. When a separate testimony was raised for the truth and principles of the Free Church in 1893, Mrs. Taylor was one of the first to identify herself with it, and continued a loyal and intelligent supporter of the Free Presbyterian Church to the end. In her private relations she was most exemplary—a wise and affectionate wife and mother. Her family have sustained a great loss, and much sympathy is felt for them among a wide circle of friends. The Church on earth has lost one of its truly devout and praying members. May the Lord heal this and other breaches death is making in our midst!
A friend has kindly sent us the following sketch of Mrs. Taylor, which, though it largely consists of notes of old time worthies, will be none the less interesting to many readers in the far north:—
The impression lies heavily upon the writer that the subject of the following remarks would prefer to commend the grace of God bestowed and to render the glory and praise to the Giver of every good gift than to have herself commended. A godly catechist who laboured in this parish was wont to say that he felt the famine so keen in his latter days that he lived a great measure in the past and fed on the rich and savoury notes, experiences, walk and conversation of “the salt of the earth” of his early years.
This was also in a measure true of the departed, and is our apology for recounting in this sketch many of these things. In the good providence of God, the deceased was born in the year 1828, of parents who gave evidence of fearing the Lord, especially the mother, Nellie M’Beath, who was gifted with love unfeigned and singleness of mind, and was kind to “the household of faith,” the rich poor whom the world despised and who often came her way. William Elder, who was a sharp man to discern, would bestow all these commendations upon “dear beloved Nellie” as he termed her, who was his tried friend and near neighbour. There was a goodly band of noble princes and princesses in Israel scattered throughout Caithness in those days, who after Jacob’s God enquired, and the writer has often listened to the deceased giving a description of them and saying that He blessed this man and that man who was born there. Their ranks have been sadly thinned since those early times. Fat land has been turned to barrenness, and the ways of Zion do mourn. Godliness, however, does not come by natural generation, and although the deceased had the privilege of the preaching of the godly Mr. Munro from childhood, she often confessed that until her eighteenth year, it was but mere formality with her, though outwardly impressed with his manner of presenting truth, and his beseeching sinners, with tears, to be reconciled unto God (2 Cor. v. 20). Then she remembered well the agitation and enthusiasm of Disruption days—the preaching on the grassy hillocks, the building of churches, and the denouncing of the dry, hiring “Moderates.” Messrs. Cook and Munro meeting one of these, the “Moderate” addressed the latter, saying, “Why not shake hands? We preach from the same Bible, I’m sure.” Mr. Cook hastily cried out, “Come away, John. So did Judas, but he had the bag under the other arm.”
As the parishes of Halkirk and Reay were adjoining one another, and the worthies of that time had their preferences, according to experience, of ministers, some of them went to hear Mr. Cook in Reay, and others sat under Mr. Munro in Halkirk. Among those who attended Mr. Cook’s ministry were Benjamin Gray, Tongside, Donald Gunn, Lochside, Sandy Elder, John Ross, Gerston, Magnus Douglas, Donald M’Pherson, who was a Nathanael, and Robert M’Sheoris, a dwarf, but a mighty prince in grace who prevailed in his day; while among those who heard Mr. Munro were Francis Swanson, Drakries, who was the same every day as the Sacramental days, John Gray, Calder, James Mackay, Gerston, and Donald Calder, Brawl. The city flourished and the citizens abounded. Empty seats were then a rarity. Of honourable women there were not a few who resided in the parish, Marion and Caroline M’Lennan, Margaret Manson and Violet Manson or Hamilton, and Nellie Munro, who was the choice flower of the flock, for the daughters praised her in the gates.
Concerning Nellie Munro, it may be said that her husband, Joseph Munro, was a gardener, and that both came from Kiltearn, Ross-shire. The gardener’s wife for some time was known for her outward adornments and display of the fashions of this world; but such a clear, saving charge came that the wicked as well as the righteous could take knowledge thereof, as a pious woman would say who had seen her, “A worldling or fool on the street might know that there was grace there.” Truly it might be said of Mrs. Munro that she forgot her father’s house and her people (Ps. xlv. 10), for apparently to begin with, “the north wind” did awake upon this object of His love that brought her to such a low condition as to take no interest in husband or family or the world, in nothing but her soul’s estate. The winter of conviction was so severe that she forgot her daily food, until the blessed “south wind” did blow upon the garden of her soul, and the voice of the turtle was heard in the land that comforted the wounded in heart and broken in spirit. This trying season was a blessed experience for her, for she was made “all glorious within,” and beautified with holiness without, which infinitely made up for the casting away of the style of dress and gaudy apparel. The subject of this notice and her mother were, during this season, attending the gardener’s wife and her household, and the impressions then made by the faithful who came to visit this “daughter of the King” never were forgotten. After this visitation of the Spirit, all Mrs. Munro’s desire and delight was to have fellowship with the Lord, and to feed on the pastures of His Word, and though the outward strength had failed in the ordeal, the inner life was renewed and beautified with His salvation. Her husband did not divorce her; no; the worst word he would say to her was, “What can I do for you now, Nellie?” They went afterwards to Ackergill and from thence to Sandside, where she became acquainted with Joseph Mackay whom she greatly loved and esteemed, but she would take a visit occasionally to the place where “the work” first began.
But to return more particularly to the deceased (Mrs. Taylor), one has to say that she was very reserved on the matters of her spiritual experience, but from truths that she often mentioned, one would conclude that these portions were made precious to her in “the depths.” Her favourite books were the Sermons of the Erskines, Samuel Rutherford’s “Trial and Triumph of Faith,” the works of Dr. Love, and Philpot. She also greatly enjoyed the sermons of the Rev. Archibald Cook. In regard to the state of the Church in Scotland, she belonged to the company of those who, for many years previous to the separation and testimony of 1893, felt as mourners apart on account of sad departures from “the faith.” Remembering the days of heaven upon earth they had experienced under faithful ambassadors of Christ, they mourned sore as the doves of the valley in the language of another, “They have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.” The wild beasts had devoured the vine, in attacks upon the Word of God, and in passing an unsound Act which was “strange language”—a speech they could not understand. Then they heard the glorious voice in their souls, “Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest; because it is polluted.” (Micah ii. 10.) And when they were enabled to obey this voice, they felt that the Lord had turned the captivity of Zion, and was favourable to His land, and they took down their harps from the willows, and began to sing again the songs of Zion, as in the days of their youth. The seasons of spiritual fellowship which were held in 1893 and afterwards were pleasant, and brought to their sweet remembrance former days and trysting places where the weary heritage had been refreshed and the poor and needy had fed by “the shepherds’ tents.” This was the experience of the deceased, though she did not take a high place for herself, but rather had as her motto, “In honour preferring one another.”
The Apostle James tells us what pure religion and undefiled is, and this daughter of the King was an example of it, though she ever held that salvation is entirely of grace. One said of the late Captain Ross, Wick, “Not that he held Calvinistic and sovereign views of truth, but rather that Calvinistic truth and doctrine held and upheld him.” So in the present case. During her last illness Mrs. Taylor’s speech was affected by her trouble, but she remained quite conscious, recognising everyone. She passed away while worship was being conducted and a portion of Psalm xxxvi. was being sung.
“They with the fatness of thy house
shall be well satisfied:
From rivers of thy pleasures thou
wilt drink to them provide.”—(Ps. xxxvi. 8.)
Many respected her for her kind manner and amiable disposition who cared nothing further. The sad blank is to those whom she loved and succoured for the truth’s sake. May the fervent supplications of the Lord’s remembrancers ascend, that grace may be given to those who observed her life to walk in the paths she trod!
Note from John Newton.
“By the grace of God, I am what I am.” After the reading of this text one morning in family worship, in Mr. Newton’s old age, he paused some moments, and then uttered the following affecting soliloquy:—”I am not what I ought to be! Ah! how imperfect and deficient! I am not what I wish to be! I abhor that which is evil, and I would cleave to what is good! I am not what I hope to be! Soon, soon, I shall put off mortality, and with mortality all sin and imperfection! Yet, though I am not what I ought to be, nor what I wish to be, nor what I hope to be, I can truly say I am not what I once was, a slave to sin and Satan; and I can heartily join with the apostle, and acknowledge, ‘By the grace of God, I am what I am!’ Let us pray.”