REV. JOHN MUNRO, HALKIRK.
(Continued from page 145.)
AS a preacher, Mr. Munro gloried in exalting Christ. There was a winsomeness in the manner in which he presented the gospel that held the attention of the careless while it captivated the hearts of the followers of Jesus Christ. He rejoiced in presenting to sinners the suitability of Christ as a Saviour, but was careful also to point out to men their lost and ruined state. It was for men totally ruined that this Saviour came into the world, and Mr. Munro did not preach a gospel that lost sight of this ruin. He told men of their guilt and utter helplessness, and then pointed them to one that was mighty to save, “one who never had lost, and never would lose, a battle.” As an illustration of the winsome manner in which he preached, the following incident will indicate. Dr. Macdonald, Ferintosh, was expected to preach to the Gaelic-speaking fishermen at Wick and Mr. Munro set out from Halkirk to hear the noted preacher. Dr. Macdonald was, however, unexpectedly called away, and Mr. Munro, on reaching Wick, was asked to take the service himself. To this request he gave a ready assent, and, taking as his text the words:—”Thou art fairer than the children of men” (Ps. xlv.) he began his sermon as follows:—”Coming here this afternoon I was struck with the loveliness of creation. The green fields, the sparkling brooks, the blossoming hedges, were all smiling and rejoicing in the sunshine. Seeing the fairness of creation, I thought of the fair One who made and upholds all things, and who, while fair in His work of creation, is infinitely more so in His work of redemption. I remembered the fairness of His divinity, and the fairness of His humanity. Was He not fair in the manger, fair in the cradle, fair in His life, fair in His death? Yea, so fair is He, that my whole soul was led captive of Him, and I began to preach Him to the birds of the air, and now I will preach Him to this congregation.”
Mr. Munro was of a bright and cheerful disposition and this feature of His character comes out in the following story that is told of him. The morning of a Halkirk Communion Sabbath was rather threatening and, as the congregation were to worship in the open, one of his elders called Mr. Munro’s attention to the threatening weather conditions. The minister turned to him and said solemnly—”No, Donald, it will be a good day; what the Lord gives will be good; many a good day He gave us, and He will give us a good eternity.”
Mr. Munro, though of a bright and cheerful spirit, could be easily hurt and wounded. David Steven, Bower, a beloved friend of his, tells how one evening Mr. Munro retired to his room early contrary to his wont when his friend from Bower visited him. Before retiring to rest, he explained the cause. “I got,” he said, to-day an anonymous letter, which, although a child might have written it, yet I saw it was the work of the devil. It was to the effect that my presence at the ensuing communion at Latheron was not desired. I spread the matter, however, on my knees before the Lord, and before leaving my room I could call God my Father; and now I will go and preach at Latheron should they stone me.” David Steven tells that one day while he was going to the market he unexpectedly met Mr. Munro. “Where are you going to-day, David?” “To the market, sir, to buy a horse, if I can get one.” “Did you pray before leaving home that you would be furnished with a suitable animal?” “I cannot say I did.” “Well, you will not get a horse to-day. You will get one, but not to-day. You should have made it a matter of prayer.” David went on his way without Mr. Munro’s words making much impression on him; “but,” he used to say, “they turned out to be true. I found a horse on the market which I thought would suit me, but the seller and I could not agree about the price; and so I went as I came. Next day, however, the person I had been trying to make a bargain with came to my door with the horse, agreeing to take my offer. And so I got a horse and a useful animal he has proved to me.”
When the Disruption came Mr. Munro was one of those who left the Established Church, and on the factor of the Scotscolder estate expressing surprise that he had done so, Mr. Munro asked, “Why?” “Oh, because the people will not give you sufficient means of subsistence; you wont get £40 a year.” “And do you think that they will give me £40?” said Mr. Munro. “Why, I would preach the gospel if they did not give me forty pence.”
Mr. Munro passed to his eternal rest on 1st April, 1847. In his death we have a beautiful exemplification of the words of Scripture—”Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace.” Dr. Ross Taylor, who knew Mr. Munro so well, gives the following account of his last illness:—”Notwithstanding his advanced age, his public ministrations were continued to the end of his days. He usually preached three times every Sabbath; and he did this on the Wednesday of the national fast—the last day he was in the pulpit. He was no less indefatigable in the discharge of all his other parochial duties; and as the result of his abundant and faithful labours, it is trusted that not a few have to acknowledge him, not only as their instructor, but as their father in Christ Jesus. On the 25th March, the day after the fast, he came into Thurso, to attend a meeting of presbytery, and being suddenly taken ill, was brought to the house of Mr. Taylor, Free Church minister, where he remained till his death, which took place that day week. During his illness, his mind was quite collected to the last; and the manner in which he endured his sufferings, and looked forward to death, was such as might be expected from the tenor of his life. On the evening of the 25th—that on which he was taken ill—he suffered much pain, yet his exclamation was ‘He hath done all things well; He never did anything wrong, and He never shall.’ ‘You have much pain,’ it was said to him. He answered, ‘John Knox said that he needed not regret the pain which would bring the battle to a close.’ He then mentioned that, before leaving home that morning, he had read in course, in secret, the last chapter of Revelation, and that he had found much more than usual of a heavenly impression in the words, ‘Behold, I come quickly.’ During the days that followed he did not speak much, but what he said showed that his mind continued to be kept in a calm, resigned, and heavenly frame. Speaking on the text, ‘They shall mount up on wings as eagles,’ he said, ‘I am not mounting up, as I would wish, but I am mounting up so as to make me wonder.’ At another time, repeating the text, ‘Though Abraham be ignorant of us, etc.,’ he went on, commenting on it thus—’Though my faith is not like the faith of Abraham, though I am not a wrestler like Jacob, yet Thou art my father.’ Being asked one morning how he was, he replied solemnly, ‘My flesh and heart doth faint and fail, but God doth fail me never.’ Again, being asked if he felt comfortable, he answered, ‘Yes; I have a good hope through grace.’ At one time he exclaimed, ‘In what state would I be had I never thought of eternity until now; but here I am, lying as easy as if I had the promise that the thief on the cross had.’ It was said to him that it was believed he had that. He replied, ‘Well, well, if I have one, I have all.’ Afterwards, speaking of the glorious prospect before him, he exclaimed, ‘Oh, I shall be ashamed when I enter heaven;’ but then as if correcting himself, he added, ‘But there shall be no shame there.’ To Sir George Sinclair, who called to see him two days before his death, he said, ‘Sir George, you know Daniel O’Connell. It has occurred to me that you should write to him, and advise him to give up everything but the Bible.’ The night before he died he suffered much. Nature’s struggle with death was evidently severe. It was said to him, ‘You appear to be very uneasy.’ He replied, ‘The Lord’s will.’ Reference was then made to the Saviour’s sufferings, when he exclaimed very distinctly, ‘He trode the winepress alone,’ and then, in connection with another observation made to him, he said, ‘I shall soon be at my rest.’ A few hours after, after breathing peacefully for some time, he calmly fell asleep in Jesus, on the morning of Thursday the 1st April, 1847. Thus died this venerable servant of Christ in the seventy-ninth year of his age and the forty-first of his ministry.”
THE Lord usually reserves dying strength for a dying hour. When Israel was to pass Jordan, the ark was in the river; and though the rear of the host could not see it, yet, as they successively came forward, and approached the banks, they all beheld the ark, and all went safely over.—Rev. John Newton.