THE REV. JOHN MACDONALD, D.D., FERINTOSH; “THE APOSTLE OF THE NORTH.”
JOHN MACDONALD was born at Buolnabin, parish of Reay, Caithness, on 12th November 1779. A green spot at the foot of Ben-Freiceadan, near Brawlbin, marks the site of the house where the noted preacher first saw the light. He was the son of James Macdonald, afterwards catechist of Reay. Dr Kennedy, in his “Apostle of the North,” and Rev. Alexander Auld, in his “Ministers and Men in the Far North,” give biographical sketches of this noted catechist and Christian. Dr Macdonald, in one of the finest and most spiritual of his elegies, has sung beautifully of the Christian graces of his revered and saintly father. Privileged though he was to have such a father, yet it required more than this to make him have a spiritual interest in the things of the kingdom of heaven. He had also the great privilege of being trained by a pious widow, who was the only one present at his birth and who took such a liking to the young stranger that she would needs take him to her home after he had been weaned. He remained five years under her care, and each night before putting him to bed she knelt beside him and in an audible voice prayed for the child. The well-known incident of the manner in which he was baptised may be related at this stage of our narrative. The parish of Reay was vacant at the time, and so James Macdonald and his wife set off to Halkirk, but the minister, the Rev. John Cameron, was off on a shooting excursion. On the way back they met the minister returning home. He decided to baptise the infant on the spot, and so without more ado Mr Cameron broke the ice on a pool of water with the butt of his gun, and fetching water from the opening, baptised the infant. “The minister’s conduct in this affair,” says Dr Kennedy, “may give an idea of his character.” The less, however, said about him the better, but those curious to know something about him will find in Sage’s “Memorabilia Domestica” enough to show that this incident was quite in keeping with his student days.
In his early youth, John Macdonald had his serious impressions, and he has been known to gather his playmates and pray with them. Sometimes he would spend an hour in prayer, and on rising from his knees, says Dr Kennedy, “the young Pharisee was disposed to say, ‘What a good boy I am now.’ The Lord will surely be pleased with me to-day.'” In his ninth year he entered the parish school of Reay, then taught by Mr William Munro, for whom Dr Macdonald had the greatest respect and whom he regarded, as under Providence, his best friend in prosecuting his education. The schoolmaster soon discovered he had a boy of more than ordinary ability, and after the honourable custom of the old parochial teachers, did everything to help the lad to climb the steep ladder of knowledge. Mrs Innes of Sandside took a great interest in young Macdonald, and on one occasion he was sent by this lady with a letter to a neighbouring proprietor, at whose house there happened to be a recruiting party. “There was music,” says Dr Kennedy, “such as young Macdonald had never heard before, and dancing, in which he was not slow to join in the evening, and before the reels were over the catechist’s son had the bounty money in his pocket.” The recruiting sergeant, on saying good-night to him, added—”You are now enlisted to serve your king and country, and in the morning you must come along with me to a justice of the peace and be attested.” The Laird next morning made reference to the new recruit obtained, and the minister of Olrig who was present, asked if it was the young man who came with the letter from the lady of Sandside. He was answered that it was. “He must be released,” said the minister, “he is the son of James Macdonald, the Reay catechist, and his parents intend to send him to college.” He then pled with the officer for the boy, and was successful. “Thus narrowly,” says Dr Kennedy, “as it seems to us, did the Apostle of the North escape from being a soldier.”
Young Macdonald had an intense love for music, and soon acquired great skill in playing the bagpipes. When leaving for college in 1797 the loved instrument was carefully packed in his trunk. On his way to Aberdeen for his second session he forgot the pipes, but on remembering them after reaching Thurso, he came back for them. But before next session a change had come over John Macdonald, and the pipes were left behind this time, but not through forgetfulness. At Aberdeen John Macdonald took a very high place in his classes, excelling especially in mathematics. But the great change which altered his whole outlook on time and eternity took place between the second and third of his college sessions, and diverted his mind away from scholastic attainments to the more momentous matters of his soul’s salvation. It would appear that it was through reading President Edwards’ works that the Holy Spirit wrought the conviction that ended in his conversion. He passed through a very fiery trial. In referring to this great change, Dr Kennedy says:—”It is impossible to trace with any distinctness the steps of his progress in the knowledge of Christ. He himself refrained from referring to his personal experience, regarding it as selfish and indiscreet to do so. He kept no record then of God’s dealings with his soul. This much, however, is certain, that the works of Edwards, his father’s wise and prayerful instruction, and the clear and unctuous preaching of Mr Robertson, then missionary at Achreny, afterwards of Rothesay and Kingussie, were the means employed and blessed by the Lord in guiding him into the truth as it is in Jesus.”
On 2nd July 1805, he was licensed by the Presbytery of Caithness to preach the gospel. Soon after he started on a tour at the request of Sir John Sinclair of Ulbster, to ascertain to what extent traditions of the Fin-galians existed in the Highlands, and whether Ossian’s poems were still remembered. He made a collection of some of the Ossianic fragments that were afterwards printed in “Leabhar na Feinne” from MS. in the Advocates Library. After this tour he returned to Caithness and officiated as missionary over the Achreny and Halladale Mission. In September 1806, he was ordained missionary minister at Berriedale, where he laboured for a short time. Mr Macdonald did not at this period give indication of the great place he was yet to occupy as a preacher. He received a presentation to the Gaelic Church in Edinburgh from the Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge, and was inducted as minister in January 1807. He had uphill work to begin with, and there was much unpleasantness over the introduction of an English sermon. He preached two Gaelic sermons and one English sermon every Sabbath. As his fame spread demands were made on his services, and he preached occasionally in Greenock, Port Glasgow, Dundee, and Perth. He also preached frequently in Glasgow and Stirling, where Highland regiments of militia were stationed, and his labours were manifestly blessed to many of the soldiers.
It was while in Edinburgh that Mr Macdonald underwent what Dr Kennedy calls a “fresh baptism of the Spirit.” His preaching now became searching and fervent, “he warned sinners in Zion with such faithfulness and power as excited the wonder and the awe of his hearers.” His action in the pulpit now became vehement without being extravagant. It was soon after this change that Mr Macdonald, on his way south from Caithness, preached for Dr Mackintosh in Tain. There was one present that day who had walked sixteen miles to hear his beloved preacher, Dr Mackintosh, and he thus describes his feelings:—”I was greatly disappointed on seeing Dr Mackintosh walking towards the manse seat, and instead of him a smart-looking young man walking, as I thought, with too rapid progress and too light a step, towards the pulpit. I felt at once as if the day was lost. I expected no good, and shut up my heart against the youth who came between me and my wonted Sabbath fare. He gave out the Psalm. ‘You can’t spoil that at anyrate,’ I said to myself. The prayer began; but I scarcely heard the first part of it. Gradually my attention was attracted, but towards the manse seat I found my eye still wandering. Before the prayer was over I ceased to look away from the pulpit. When the sermon began I forgot all but the doctrine I was hearing. As he warmed up with his subject, the preacher became most vehement in his action; every eye was rivetted on the speaker; and suppressed sounds testified to the effect which the sermon was producing. His second discourse was so awe-inspiring that the audience became powerfully affected. Such was the awful solemnity of the doctrine and the vehemence of the preacher’s manner, that I expected ere he was done, every heart would be pierced, and that the very roof of the church would be rent. The sermon over, all were asking who the preacher was. ‘A young man from Edinburgh of the name of Macdonald,’ was the only answer that could be given.”
On the death of the saintly Rev. Charles Calder, minister of Urquhart, Mr Macdonald was called to succeed him, and he was inducted on 1st September 1813. It was no easy task to follow such a minister as Mr Calder, whose holy life made a profound impression on his parishioners. In his Gaelic elegy on Mr Calder, Dr Macdonald very beautifully enters into the feelings of those who had been fed by this saintly pastor who had been taken from them.
Tha cuid co domhain chaidh a leon leath,
A thaobh an ceangail ris gu sonruicht,
‘S nach creid gu’m faigh, an taobhs’ do ghloir,
Na ni an leon s’ a charadh !
(“In some hearts the wound is so deep that on this side of glory, they cannot hope it shall be healed”).—Dr Kennedy’s translation).