IN writing a brief notice of Mr. Donald Sutherland, who died at the Free Presbyterian Manse, Wick, on Sabbath the 22nd July, the writer feels, owing to his relationship, that he cannot speak as freely as he might otherwise do, but as he was present during the last days of Mr. Sutherland’s earthly pilgrimage, he takes the liberty of putting on record a short account of one, who, during the few brief years he served Christ, gave unmistakable evidence of the reality of the change which came, when he was turned from darkness to light.
Donald Sutherland in his youth had abundant opportunities of witnessing in the character of many Christian worthies in Wick and Caithness, now at their everlasting rest, what the grace of God could do, and through his home-training and influences, he entertained a strong attachment to them, which his generous disposition showed by many acts of kindness. But the example set by these Christian men and women could not change the unrenewed heart nor keep Donald, like many others, though otherwise moral and honourable, from the frivolities of a fallen world. These he then enjoyed with zest. The very warmth and kindness of his nature were used by Satan for his own ends, and Donald expressed sincere regret after his conversion that he had lived so long a life without God, and had travelled so far into the far country. About ten years ago, however, God laid His hand upon him, and brought him to the very gates of death, and showed him his sins. “I thought,” he used to say, speaking of that experience, “that I was on the very brink of hell, and if God would stop my breath, I was lost forever; every time I felt my breath getting weaker, I dreaded it would stop, and that in a few moments I would open my eyes in hell.” When he came through that fiery furnace, he was a changed man, and the manner of life he lived afterwards showed plainly that the change was the work of the Spirit, and therefore all of grace. It was after this change that the Free Presbyterian Mission was started in London, and for its establishment and success, he threw the whole energy of his warm and impulsive nature into the movement. With his like-minded companion and office-bearer (Corporal William Grant, Cromarty), he laboured night and day for its prosperity, and watched over its welfare with prayerful interest. On his death-bed he made reference to his connection with the Mission. “Many a happy day,” he said, “I had in His service the few years I served Him. I used to be very happy singing the Psalms in the hall in London [he was leader of the praise in English], and especially did these words in the 105th Psalm warm my heart:—
“Egypt was glad when forth they went,
Their fear on them did light.
He spread a cloud for covering,
And fire to shine by night.
They ask’d, and he brought quails: with bread
Of heav’n he filled them.
He open’d rocks, floods gush’d, and ran
In deserts like a stream.
For on His holy promise He
And servant Abr’ham thought,
With joy His people, His elect,
With gladness forth He brought.”
“But He can easily carry on His work,” he continued, “though the workmen are laid aside.”
About six months ago he was stricken down with a serious malady. For a time hope of recovery was entertained, and through the generous kindness of many friends in London and elsewhere, which he deeply appreciated, he was enabled to come, along with his wife, north to Strathpeffer on the advice of his physician. But no benefit being derived, after a few weeks’ stay he came to Wick, the home of his boyhood and early manhood. For a time the disease did not make very manifest progress, but, during the last week of his life on earth, it made steady and sure progress towards the end. During the week he was sorely oppressed with great discomfort, but even in the midst of it all, his lively disposition asserted itself to a remarkable degree. Though we had often conversations on spiritual matters, it was not until the last day of his life that either of us made reference to his approaching end. Early on Sabbath morning he was suffering great pain, and he asked his wife to tell me to come in and look at his legs to see if anything could be done to relieve the pain. On coming into the bedroom, one could see that a decided change for the worse had taken place. “Isn’t it a pity,” he said, as he often did, “that I couldn’t get rest?” “You’ll get a good long rest to-day, Donald,” I replied, for it was evident the end was not very far distant. He lifted his weary eyes, and looked at me for a moment, and a smile seemed to come over his wan and haggard features as he said:—”Yes! I shall see the King in His beauty to-day.” “Are you quite reconciled now to go?” I asked. “Well, yes, to be with Christ is far better. But I would have liked to see Jessie” (his only child who was in London). Then after a pause he added:—”But I shall see her, for when she was born, I got the promise, ‘This also is a daughter of Abraham.'” On going out to the morning service, I shook hands with him. “Goodbye,” he said. “No, not yet,” I replied, “I will see you when I come in.” “Well, preach to them the unsearchable riches of Christ; that is what sinners need; and the Lord be with you.” On my return he was weaker, but quite conscious, and continued so till within twenty minutes or so of his death. One of his last petitions was, “Keep me, when I am going through the dark valley; shield me, defend me, cover me.” So passed away Donald Sutherland in the prime of his life (he was only
about 49 years) manifesting in a remarkable degree that, though the body be much afflicted, the Lord is able to sustain and comfort the soul that He has redeemed, when it is facing death and eternity. With no presumptuous bearing did he go down into the dark valley, and with no vain hope did he face eternity, but as one who leaned upon Christ alone for salvation. In his conversion and in his removal to his everlasting rest, it pleased the Lord that it should have been “through much tribulation” that His all-wise purpose should be accomplished, so that the beautiful words of the psalmist might well be applicable here:—
“The storm is changed into a calm
At His command and will;
So that the waves which rag’d before,
Now quiet are and still.
Then are they glad because at rest
And quiet now they be,
So to the haven He them brings,
Which they desired to see.”
What he was as a husband, son, and brother is best known to those who stood in these relations to him. His removal is deeply mourned by those who knew him and especially by our people in the London Mission. D. B.
Rev. Neil Cameron, as Moderator of the London Mission in which Mr. Sutherland took such a practical interest, kindly and suitably adds the following supplementary notice. Mr. Cameron begins with an account of the way in which the present regular services in London were started. There were a few occasional services, principally English, conducted by our ministers in London before this period:—
I desire to add a few lines to the above tribute. Some time after Mr. Donald Sutherland had undergone the spiritual change recorded by the Rev. D. Beaton, he came on a visit to Glasgow and spent a night with us. We were very favourably impressed as to the genuineness of the change, as also much impressed with the deep concern Mr. Sutherland felt about the Highlanders and other Scotsmen in London. He did his very utmost to impress upon us the urgent need of beginning regular services in connection with the Free Presbyterian Church there, and to have us promise to go for a Sabbath to have such services started. He received no great encouragement. After he got home to London, he continued to write us about the subject, like the importunate widow, persisting in taking no refusal. The matter was then considered more seriously, and we felt strongly inclined to go. When Mr. Sutherland was informed of the decision, he immediately made the necessary preparations. On our arrival at London he met us and drove us to his very hospitable home. He began, as soon as we entered the conveyance at the station, to speak of the promising character of London as a field for Free Presbyterian
labourers, and to urge that intimation should be made on the coming Sabbath morning that the services would be continued from Sabbath to Sabbath in connection with our Church in future. Feeling somewhat heavily the responsibility of the undertaking, we decided to say nothing till we would be able to judge from personal observation, but after holding two English services and a Gaelic one on Sabbath, which were well attended, we felt justified in making the longed-for intimation. We can never forget the rejoicing of our beloved friend that night. From that period he threw his whole energy and time into the work of the Mission. He was cordially assisted by Mr. William Grant in the various duties until Mr. Grant was called up to join the army. The brotherly love and mutual confidence that existed between them could not be surpassed. At our first communion in London they were both examined, and admitted as members of the Church in full communion. It rejoiced greatly our heart and caused us much encouragement to have these two young men at the head of the Mission. We had the utmost confidence both as regards their piety and singleness of purpose in the affairs of God’s house. At the time of our third communion there, they were both, after being previously elected by the members, ordained deacons. Since then they were urged to agree to their being made elders, but they declined the office at the time.
Our London Mission has lost a true friend in Mr. Donald Sutherland, and we are persuaded that we express the heartfelt feelings of each one of those in attendance there when we so write. Mr. W. Grant wrote us his own appreciation of him in the following sentences: “Donald Sutherland is constantly before my mind, as our ten years together leave me deeply attached to him. Grace wrought a wonderful change in Donald.” Again, after his death, he wrote: “If spared to return to London, I will find it a much colder place. May the blessed One raise up others!” These sentences express exactly our own feelings regarding our departed friend.
May the Lord guide, comfort, and bless his poor disconsolate widow and her fatherless child, and may He raise up others to take charge of His cause in our Mission in that large city! We desire, in conclusion, to express the deepest sympathy with his widow, aged mother, and the other members of the family, as well as with the adherents of the Mission in London, in the loss that has been sustained.
N. C.
MAN crumbles to dust at the presence of God; yea, though He shews Himself to us in His robes of salvation. Alas! there is a company of poor, light, frothy professors in the world, that carry it under that which they call the presence of God more like to antics than sober, sensible Christians; yea, more like the fool at the play than those that have the presence of God.—John Bunyan.