THOSE of our readers who had any acquaintance with the late Mrs. Donald Campbell, Boreraig, will be wondering that no notice has hitherto been taken of her in our Magazine. A sense of the writer’s inability to give an adequate portrait of this most worthy woman was mainly the cause of delay.
Mrs. Campbell, or “Ann,” as she was familiarly called, was born at Waternish in the year 1831, but early in life she removed with her parents to Shiadar, Boreraig. At the age of twenty-three she married Donald Campbell, a quiet, gentle, unassuming man, who predeceased her by a few years.
From her childhood Mrs. Campbell had strivings of conscience which troubled her greatly, and gave her many thoughts about eternity. These convictions, however, passed away, and it was not until she was up in years that she was brought to a deep sense of her ruined and lost condition as a sinner. In this state of mind she was brought to the brink of despair so much that, coming home one night from a prayer meeting, she was tempted to end her life, and with this purpose in view she made her way towards a precipice, with the intention of casting herself into the sea. In approaching the place, the Lord, to whom belong the issues from death, graciously intervened, and spoke to her benighted soul with these words, “When thou saidst, Seek ye my face, my heart said unto thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek” (Psalm xxvii. 8). That was evidently the first ray of hope which penetrated her soul, and if her misery was great, the deliverance which followed was correspondingly great, and this she continued to enjoy for days and probably weeks. These days of old she often called to mind, and especially referred to two instances at that time. The first was when coming home from the hill with a creel of peats, carrying it in the usual way, with her head through the loop of the creel. While resting on the way she got such a wonderful view of the glory of the Redeemer that she fainted. When she regained consciousness the creel was where she had been resting, but she found herself some yards away. It was always a mystery to her how she escaped being strangled. The other instance was the following:—On Sabbath mornings she made a point of leaving early for church, which was eight or nine miles distant, so that she might not be troubled with vain company on the way. On this particular morning, as she crossed the hill, she enjoyed so much of the Lord’s presence, and saw so much of His glory in the works of creation, that she feared to trample on the grass by the roadside. It was a great surprise to her, and a source of comfort and joy, to read afterwards her own former experience in the “Sermons of the late Rev. Archibald Cook,” a book she greatly prized and often read.
We have been describing mainly the sunny side of her life, but she was no stranger to the fiery darts of “the wicked one.” As she was privileged to mount up to heaven, so she also experienced going down to the depths. To a friend who called on her she said, “What would you think of a person who would be in hell all night and in the morning found herself on mercy’s ground?” She often remarked that she pitied herself more than the open sinner, because of the corruption of her nature, and that it wasn’t so much her vain thoughts that troubled her as the blasphemy of her heart, which often left her quite prostrate when she thought of what passed through her mind regarding the being of God.
“The just” are told that their troubles are to be many, and Mrs. Campbell was no exception. In the world she had many troubles and trials, death being often in her family; but she confessed that these chastisements made her look more to Christ and less to herself, so that she had reason to praise the Lord, who kept her from murmuring under His rod. Even on her deathbed she remarked that, though her troubles and pains were great, and Satan was doing his utmost with his temptations to harass her, yet the Lord came in between her and her troubles and overcame Satan, so that her anchor was fixed within the vail, and all the devils in hell could not remove it.
To a friend who knew her well she said: “I compare Christ to a man with a large piece of gold, who gives a big piece at first to his friends, but afterwards only gives smaller pieces.” The meaning of this figure is so plain that we need not give the explanation offered. On another occasion she remarked to the same person: “I did not sleep all last night and early in the morning. As I was meditating I felt a wave of Christ’s love coming into my soul, and was like one in heaven. It was a happy and blessed morning to me, but I cannot describe it.” She asked again, “Am I right in saying that the blessed Saviour is my own? Can I call Him my own love?” The friend replied that the Church, in the Song of Solomon, says: “My beloved is mine, and I am his.” As this person called one day he found her much exercised and troubled over the following passage of Scripture: “See, the smell of my son is as the smell of a field which the Lord hath blessed.” She was tempted to think that these words were not in the Bible, for, though she searched diligently, she failed to find them. She was much relieved, however, when told that they were to be found in Genesis (xxvii. 27).
She was very reticent in her manner, and by some she might be considered cold and distant, but this attitude altogether arose from a wise, judicious mind, not inclined to expose herself to strangers. When, however, one got into her confidence, she was most amiable and pleasant, and would freely express herself regarding her troubles and experiences. One thing she could not tolerate was gossip, especially in those who professed religion.
“The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him,” and this was true of Mrs. Campbell in a marked degree. We may give one instance. One, who often visited her, had occasion to leave the island for a few days, and, while away, was assailed by a trying temptation. On returning home he called to see her, when she remarked, “You were in trouble since I saw you; you were tried with such a temptation.” The friend replied, “That is so, but how did you know it?” as he had not spoken of it to a single person. “You were very much on my mind those days,” she said, “and I was in the mire at the same time, but you are not acting wisely in hiding these things, for what do you know but that it might be useful to some poor tried soul?”
Mrs. Campbell was looked upon for many years, before she made any public profession, by all in the parish as an eminent Christian. Indeed it was only a few years before she died that she became a member in full communion. We often remonstrated with her as to her duty in this respect, but she always gave reasons for her delay which we need not mention here. On Saturday before the Communion Sabbath, on which she took this solemn step, she sent word to us to meet her in a private place, when she expressed her desire and fears to go forward to the Lord’s Table. After some conversation we offered her “a token” which she did not wish to have then, but to wait until she would see what frame of mind she would have on Sabbath. We, however, insisted on her accepting it. On the following week we called on her, and enquired how it fared with her at the Table. “In the first place,” she said, “I have to thank you for giving the token, for, if I had not got it in my possession, I had not the strength of body to go for it, I was so overcome with a view of Christ’s love. I often felt on a Communion Sabbath as easy to face a burning mountain as the Lord’s Table, but it would be as difficult for me last Sabbath to keep away.”
For many years she was confined to the house, and often to bed, but in all her sufferings and sorrows she was never heard to complain. A few days before she died she said, “There are many lions between the door of the new birth and the gates of heaven, but whatever the end of the German War may be, my war will end in peace.” Being asked by a friend if she desired to be taken away, she replied, “I desire my body to be buried, and my soul to be with Christ.” Some time after she was asked the same question, when she said, “I am afraid I was too daring in asking the Lord to take me away before His time.” Soon after this she added, “I desire to go now, and have no doubts.” On Wednesday, 3rd March, 1915, she had her desire, and departed to be forever with Christ.
We may add that she recorded many of the above experiences in a poem which may be published in our Magazine. We are quite conscious of how far short we have come in doing justice to the memory of this excellent woman. Those who were privileged to make her acquaintance, miss her more than they can express. The Glendale F.P. Congregation, and the cause of Christ at large, have lost a friend on whom their concerns weighed heavily. To the family we tender our sincere sympathy, and may they, through grace, follow the footsteps of her who “through faith and patience” inherits the promises.
N. M’I.