MANY whose names are written in the “Lamb’s book of life” have never had their lives put down in the records of men in this world. But still, “the righteous shall be had in everlasting remembrance.” To those who knew some of these now, however, gone to their eternal rest, it does not seem unfitting that some little memorial should be raised up over the places which once knew them, now cold and empty.
Catherine, or Kate Calder, as she was generally known, was born in Beauly, in 1831 or 1832, about twelve years before the Disruption. Her parents being of the hardworking, poor class, she had early to go out into the world to earn her bread, first to the fields when able, and latterly as dairymaid and housekeeper. In this capacity she served with many families of good quality, and in manses; but the first twenty years of her life almost, she lived a stranger to God and His Christ, and was truly a lover of pleasure. Her parents had brought her up at least to attend the outward means of grace at times, though of her mother (her father died when she was young) she spoke as one who had not the marks of a gracious person, until the illness which resulted in her death. She remembered to have gone to Redcastle in their company to hear the Rev. John Kennedy, that eminent servant of God, but was too young to remember what she heard. Being naturally gifted and having a measure of wit, she would be a leader in all frivolity, and among her fellow servants in all mischief and folly. A mistress once told her she always knew when she was among the servants by the laughter and merriment she heard.
But there were other uses for the faculties God gave her, and the Potter was to remould the vessel in His great mercy. She used to say when she would be happy, the change from darkness to light was so clear to her seeing she had been so wicked she wasn’t so often tempted on that score. Of a handsome bearing, finely dressed and to attract attention, she went one day to the church, where a godly minister preached. But the sermon was not far advanced before an arrow found a joint in her harness, and if her head was high before, it was low enough before the end of the service. From this day she turned her back on the world and began to traverse “a land not sown.” Losing taste of her worldly companions, she went from means to means trying to find peace for an awakened conscience, and endeavouring to work out a righteousness of her own, but in vain. She only became more and more miserable. In this state of almost despair she went one day after many months of distress to a place where the Communion was to be held, and while on the high road a wonderful light shone all around her and the Lord came with His presence and so overwhelmed her along with some precious words of the Truth (which we are sorry not to remember now) that she was forced to hide
her face ; and the love of Christ so filled her soul that her heart melted like wax. She felt constrained to go into the woods near by, and there falling on her knees, enjoyed such communion with the Lord and such an outpouring of the Spirit, with full forgiveness of all her sins, as to make the place a Bethel.
And now the means of grace became sweet indeed, and out of the great Gospel provision she almost, literally, took her meat and drink. Certain it is in eagerness for food for her soul she forgot, to a great extent, concern for the natural bread. She used to say of this time that she felt, under the preaching of the Word, so melted and uplifted in soul, that it was as if heaven came down to her on earth. The Spirit, she said, seemed to be descending on her (and she thought on many others also in the congregations) like the dew and the silent rain on the mown grass ; she felt it penetrated to her innermost soul. She would go in the strength of these diets back to her work in the fields, over the miles of country like an eagle on the wing ; and would be so elevated in mind as to be quite dead to the vulgar, and at times profane, conversation of those around her. There were some very eminent men in Beauly and district in those days, as sweet and tender Simon Campbell ; Angus MacDonald, Urray, whose presence would grace a congregation ; faithful Thomas Fraser and others. At first she did not like to join herself to their company, feeling, probably like the Apostle himself, that it would not be a wonder though they could not believe her a genuine disciple, considering her former life. The farthest corner in the congregations, and at the meetings, oftentimes the back of the door would be her place, and her tears under the preaching would make often a large pool at her feet so profuse were their flow, so deep her repentance. A while after this she went to Strathconan, a strath in Ross-shire, to a situation as dairymaid. While here, she went through a very fiery trial of soul trouble or law work, and being accompanied by an attack of brain fever, brought her to death’s door. She gave us many particulars of all these periods of her spiritual life and of this sad time too, but, as they are similar to what many of the Lord’s people experience, we need not enumerate them here. While at her lowest in this furnace, she said she thought she could hear the rattle of the chains of those tied to the lowest hell, and felt herself every moment as if on the brink of this awful, everlasting place of woe. She said she could never doubt there was a hell after what she went through then. Her sense of the wrath of God against sin and her agony of soul was extremely great, which was much aggravated by the temptations of the Evil One.
The Free Church at Strathconan was vacant at this time since the Disruption, being supplied by godly laymen. The first minister settled there was our own worthy and aged minister, Rev. Donald M’Farlane, Dingwall, about 40 years ago now, we believe. The public means were, nevertheless, faithfully upheld by godly men and catechists appointed by the Church, as James Matheson
the catechist at Garve, of whom it was said that “he reflected so much of the image of the man of sorrows that no unsanctified conscience could hold up its head before him”; the eminent and famous Donald Duff; the much-esteemed Mr. Rose, teacher; Duncan MacIver; and Hector Jack; and many others who would give their help (though not catechists or speakers), as some of the Beauly men, Thomas Fraser, Simon Campbell, Alexander Fraser, and Roderick M’Lean, teacher, Brahan, who was such an unctuous, meek, sweet, and able speaker. Being a regular attendant on these meetings, our friend was taken notice of and kindly treated by these eminent men at different times there, and while going through the furnace before mentioned, was not forgotten by them at a throne of grace. But, what was better still, the Lord Himself remembered her in her low estate and brought her out of the horrible pit. If her agony was great her deliverance was clear, certain and large, and her insight into the Gospel provision and mystery of redemption very deep. This trial was the means of grounding her very strongly on the “Rock,” Christ, and also made her very helpful and tender to others in like case. She also recovered strength of body and like Hezekiah was able to go up again to the house of God. She one day asked Donald Duff, who was catechist there, why he did not visit her in her trouble. He said he had done so but was refused admission, but said, “I could lay my hand on your head in every stage of your journey through the wilderness.” These godly men were very helpful to her in those days, Donald Duff being quite a spiritual nurse, and Angus M’Donald her warm friend and adviser. She often walked the twenty miles after this, between Beauly and Strathconan, to be present at Mr. Duff’s meetings and would be hard at work as usual next day. Dingwall, of course, was the great resort of the godly then, and the few miles intervening were not considered much by many others besides Kate; and during his lifetime, she had Angus M’Donald’s company, as a rule, going to hear Dr. Kennedy, as he lived not far from her, and took such an interest in her, he would ask her to call for him on her way to Dingwall. She got very much attached to him and would often unburden her mind to him in temporal as well as spiritual matters. About this time she took small-pox and was so ill she expected death, but he told her she would not go just then, but would live to see him buried, and she did. He also told her with her lively disposition and strong passions, combined with her great spiritual enjoyments, she would require crosses to keep her down, and that she would see them come out of unexpected quarters, which proved very true.
She had many crosses, some not pleasant, and very perplexing to see how they were consistent with love to her from her heavenly Father, and she was kept down with trials so as to remain very poor all her days. But she was of those who are rich in faith; and she could tell of many remarkable instances of the Lord’s merciful
help in straits. These things all went to further sanctification in her and fulfilled the Lord’s purpose of purifying her for her heavenly home. She nursed her mother through several years of severe trouble ending in death, and was a beautiful pattern of Christian humility to a mother who had been very hard on her because of her “good choice.” The mother, in her illness, used to tell this to others about Kate, and seemed to have a measure of contrition which Kate hoped worked for her good. She endeavoured to bring the godly men to read and pray with her, and latterly she seemed pleased to see them. She saw many others of her relations, brothers, etc., buried after her mother’s death, but nothing was so hard to her as seeing those laid in the grave who were united to her in the bonds of Christian love and in the truth. She felt herself being left in a bleak wilderness as one after another of her godly friends and favourite ministers were removed, and she lamented the sad change gradually appearing among the people and in the Churches.
Her hope, however, was in the Lord, who had so richly fed her all her days on the rich provision of Canaan. She lived mostly during the latter years of her life in the past, and would often say with Iain Tosach (John Mackintosh, of Farr), “My godliness is off the earth now, and it is before me in heaven.” She was drawing largely, having to the last a wonderful memory sanctified by the grace of God, on what she heard from eminent ministers and others of the marrow of the Gospel, and in our hearing on her deathbed she repeated a large portion of a sermon preached fifty years before on a subject suitable to her state of mind at the time, and encouraging herself therewith. One could see that she had, as Boston says, a “heart truly touched with the powerful sweetness of the truth, helping the memory to retain what it so relished.” She was richly endowed with spirituality of mind, which is true life and peace. Her last illness was short. She had had a strong frame and a tall upright carriage, but the pins of her tabernacle began to be loosened. She ailed but kept on her feet until within ten days of her end, and said that whenever she took to bed she felt such a holy, calm serenity and resignation to whatever would come, as made her sure it was death. One felt it very pleasant to be at her bedside. Latterly she became unconscious and spoke none, except once, to repeat some words of a chapter which a friend read beside her. She died about the age of eighty-six or eighty-seven, in May, 1919, and was buried in Redcastle churchyard, there to await the sounding of the last trumpet. “Blessed are they which are called into the marriage supper of the Lamb.”
C. C.
THE devil forced Him not; he touched Him not; only said, “Cast thyself down;” that we may know that whosoever obeyeth the devil casteth himself down; for the devil may suggest; compel he cannot.—Chrysostom.