THE Free Presbyterian Congregation of Assynt, in common with other congregations throughout the Church, has had, within recent years, the repeatedly mournful experience of witnessing one after another of those who gave promise of many years of Christian usefulness being removed from its midst. And while it is the Lord’s doing and marvellous in our eyes, we cannot help viewing it otherwise than as a manifest token of God’s displeasure towards the present generation.
That the subject of this notice gave evidence of having passed through the change which is so essential for entering the kingdom of heaven, the following account should convince us:—Kate M’Kenzie was born in Balchladdich some forty-two years ago. She was thus a comparatively young woman, when the messenger of death, armed with its divine commission, separated her soul from its lifetime dwelling of clay. At an age in which the Holy Spirit more frequently begins His good work of grace in the soul—the impressionable age of youth—was Kate brought to realise her lost condition as a sinner. A particular occasion on which the arrow of conviction found lodgment in her guilty conscience was, when hearing the following remark being uttered in public prayer by a God-fearing man, namely—”Lord, have pity on the young girls who, though attractive in personal appearance, are on the way to hell!” Henceforward she was not allowed to rest upon her lees, for anxiety as to her lost estate and future destiny was constantly preoccupying her mind. Moreover, the quickening of her conscience, instrumentally produced by the human voice, received further deepening by the following passage in Psalm ix. 17, coming with great force to her mind:—
“They who are wicked into hell
Each one shall turned be;
And all the nations that forget
To seek the Lord Most High.”
The “law work” under which she laboured at that time seems to us to have been considerably protracted, and, from what we were able to gather from herself, we are inclined to think it continued for about two years. While under this spiritual discipline, she was acquainted with those alternating frames and emotions by which the soul is at one time utterly cast down as if there was scarcely any hope, and at another so cheered with comfort and delight as almost to suggest the joy of new-born delivery—she was no stranger to those soul-varying experiences common to those who are awakened. Under the special ministration of the Holy Spirit, which the Lord is pleased to dispense towards those whom He calls effectually, soul experiences usually do differ in degree, details, and circumstances, but in nature and ultimate object they are the same. Like others, she sought relief to her troubled soul by resorting to the covenant of works, the sum of which is, “Do and live.” And, while as yet cleaving to this hopeless system for deliverance, she was favoured with receiving into her mind many passages of truth which inspired her with confidence and soothed her with consolation. Among other truths, we may quote this passage in another Psalm, cvii. 30:—
“Then are they glad, because at rest
And quiet now they be:
So to the haven he them brings,
Which they desir’d to see.”
This passage came with great light and comfort to her mind. Still, the Lord’s time of real deliverance had not yet come, and when it did come, it was very real to her. “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature; old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” The contrast between the “old” and the “new,” which this gracious change produced, was markedly vivid to her. The desire for undisturbed solitude, so as to fix the mind more intently upon the great subjects, God, salvation, the soul and eternity, is characteristic of those who are graciously quickened, especially during the first phases of this wonderful knowledge. The custom, therefore, with Kate was to betake herself to the room, after the rest of the family retired for the night, and thus closeted she read, meditated, and prayed over the Word of God. On one of these nights, she, being moved with intense feeling about the way of salvation by Christ, laid hold of the Bible and began to read, while she said within herself, “If Christ is in the Scriptures, I will get him to-night.” After she had read, she fell upon her knees, and as she earnestly offered up her petitions before the throne, these words in Psalm 1. 15: “And call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me”—struck into her mind with indescribable enlargement and enlightenment, so that darkness gave place to light, and death to life. In these words, as applied to her by the Holy Spirit, Christ, and the way of salvation through Him, became most sweet and precious. She beheld His sufficiency, His glory, and His peculiar suitableness as meeting the claims of law and justice in her room. She continued in this happy frame for some time. But in due time she got to know that she was not altogether rid of the old nature, and by-and-by the powerful corruptions of the heart began to move, until at last she was afraid all was lost, and all her former experiences of grace were a delusion. The enemy sought to take advantage of this by hurling his cruel darts at her. She knew what it was to be tempted by Satan to give the lie to God’s gracious dealings with her. While passing through this trial, she resolved on going to Inverness Communion. Thither she went, and though she attended all the services at this communion, she got no relief. When the communion ended, a friend asked her if she was to go to Moy Communion, which immediately succeeded Inverness, to which she answered, “Oh, I am afraid all my attendances at communions will cast me deeper into hell.” “No, indeed,” said the friend, “for all the communions you attend, they will not cast you into hell.” She, however, went, and the Lord was pleased to grant her an outgate by means of this solemnity from the temptation under which she laboured. The sermon under which she got this relief was preached from the text, “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away; for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone” (Song ii. 10, 11).
In her young womanhood Kate was strong and healthy, but when she was about twenty years or over she contracted a severe cold, which permanently undermined her health, and made it clear she was not destined to see the allotted span. Of this she was quite conscious herself, and for a year or two before she died it became increasingly evident, to herself as well as to others, that her days were numbered. While the family circle was a happy one, because of its religious and God-fearing character, there were domestic circumstances—which we need not detail—that required the exercise of wisdom, patience, love, and contentment, which were not wanting in her. Under adverse or smiling providential dispensations, Kate’s temperament and disposition was cheerful and contented. Her naturally buoyant spirit was seasoned with the grace which enabled her to say with the apostle, “For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.” She was very cautious in respect to speaking of others, and was careful to avoid giving offence to Jew or Gentile or to the Church of God, while at the same time she did not hesitate in showing faithfulness when the occasion required. She loved to hear the Gospel preached in its native simplicity, and what constitutes its very kernel and marrow, namely, the love and sufferings of the Redeemer, scarcely ever failed to melt her soul into mingled feelings of joy and mourning.
At the throne of grace she was a regular visitor, and hardly can we calculate the loss which not only congregations, but the Church of God at large—and our own in particular—have sustained through the thinning of their gracious suppliants on the earth.
An intimate friend of hers, who frequented her bedside during her last days, tells that she was wonderfully bright in her hopes at the end. She said, “Formerly I was able to exercise my mind on His Word, but not now. Nevertheless, the truth sustains me, and though it often passes through my soul as flashes, I cannot keep it. When a truth came to my mind before, I used to get sweet meditation on it; that is not the case now. But why should I murmur when He does all things very well?” A few nights before she died she was seized with great weakness, and slept a little. When she awoke she felt some impatience at being still in the body, and being troubled over it afterwards, she broke out with the affecting words: “Why should I complain of drinking the little—the very little—He has been pleased to put in my little cup, when He Himself, without the least murmur, drank the great cup of wrath which was due to them all to drink!”
To this the friend replied, “You are not yet perfect.” She rejoined: “No, no, far from it; but blessed be His name, He can cleanse the leper by the power of His word.” Worship being taken and ended, she said, “What a pity I could not sing with you these beautiful Psalms, but I will praise Him yet, yea, eternally, for what He did for me—for coming in my nature, suffering in my nature, rising again in my nature after satisfying divine justice for me. Can I praise Him enough through the endless ages?”—these words being uttered in a state of rapture.
She was too weak to speak any further, and in a few days more her soul took its flight to the presence of the King. She died towards the end of August last.
To her father, who still survives, and the other members of the family we extend our deepest sympathy in their sore bereavement. “The just shall be held in everlasting remembrance.” M. M.
Brief notices of the late Mrs. William M’Kenzie, mother of Miss K. M’Kenzie, and of Donald M’Leod, Clashmore, Stoer, are held over till next month.