THE subject of the following notice was born in Glendale over eighty years ago and departed this life on the 12th December, 1936. When, or by what means, the saving change came upon him we are not in a position to say. His life from his childhood was most exemplary so that when the change came it was not so noticeable to others as it would have been had things been otherwise, and he himself would be the last to speak of his own experience. His father, Peter Campbell, was an eminently godly man and one is disposed to believe that the teaching which such a father would give to his family was, in the case of John, blessed at a very early age. When he grew up to manhood, the Lord’s people in Glendale showed the place they had for him, by putting him often to lead the praise at their meetings, a duty which he always performed with solemnity and sweetness.
He married a daughter of the late William Macleod, Borreraig, an elder in the Glendale congregation, and for the long period of fifty-three years they were together, sharing each other’s joys and sorrows and giving the clearest proof that the cause of Christ was their chief concern. Their house had an open door for the Lord’s people, and many a large company who are now in glory had fellowship together at communion seasons under their roof. Shortly after the Free Presbyterian Church took up a separate position John Campbell made a public profession, which he kept unspotted till his last breath. It was the late Rev. D. MacFarlane who was Interim-Moderator of the Glendale kirk-session at the time, one for whom our friend had the greatest love as a preacher and also on account of the stand he made on the side of Christ. In 1900 he was ordained as an elder in the congregation, an office which he adorned for the long period of thirty-six years.
Though a very intelligent man he had no gift for public speaking, but he will be long remembered in our congregations on the West, and especially in Skye as a precentor. His voice retained its sweetness to the last, and we have often heard the remark, made by those qualified to judge, that they never heard a man who could “pitch a tune” with such accuracy. Much to the sorrow of the Glendale congregation he was not able to lead the singing in public for some years back owing to failing sight, but when present the sweet melody of his voice could be distinguished in the congregation. He will also be remembered by the Lord’s people as an earnest pleader at a throne of grace. His prayers in public were most orderly and simple, and accompanied with an unction which one could not easily forget.
He was not a stranger to the assaults of Satan nor ignorant of his devices. He was a man who, at the outset, did not get much of what is called “law work” and Satan often made this a handle to harass him, and to make him believe that he had not undergone a saving change. Along with this he had a deep sense of his own inward corruption, which kept him very humble and a constant pleader at a throne of grace. He had also a very deep sense of his responsibility to God, a fact which was vividly brought out in an incident which his wife told me. It was on one occasion when he was getting two of his children baptised, some time before he became a member in full communion. After the first one had been baptised he could not remember the name of the second and had to ask his wife. He explained to her afterwards that he felt such a solemnity in the vows which he was taking that everything else was put out of his mind. Alas! how different from many who take baptismal vows and never realise their solemnity, and forget them almost as soon as they are made. As an office-bearer he was most conscientious and every duty which fell to him was carried out with meticulous care, and with a punctuality which was to be admired. This was most noticeable at communion seasons, for he would be the first at the church and the last to leave it, at all the services, and no one ever heard a complaint, for to him it was a labour of love. As he advanced in years he manifested an ever increasing fear that he would do, or say, anything that would bring a reproach on the cause of Christ. In this connection he repeatedly approached us, asking that he be not put up to pray in public, giving as his reason, his fear that through infirmities of old age he might say something that was out of place. The earnestness with which he would plead this favour at times manifested his genuine love for the cause which he followed. In spite of his own fears we have to confess that we never saw reason why he should not be put up to pray in public, but many reasons why he should be put up.
During his earthly career he had his own share of affliction, both in his own person and by the removal of some of his family by death after they had grown up. These things were among the “all things” that were working together for his good, and it was very evident that he was fast ripening for that place where the inhabitant shall not say “I am sick.” In his prayers there was a peculiar nearness to the Most High which made one realise that he was getting a glimpse of the King in His beauty and the land that is very far off. The end, though it was not unlooked for, came rather suddenly. A fortnight before he passed away he was in church on Sabbath evening. I had been led to speak from the words “Abide with us for it is toward evening and the day is far spent,” and as the night was rather stormy I accompanied him to the end of his own house after the service. His mind was very much on the preciousness of time, and the great sin of trifling with privileges and opportunities. During the week he was in his usual health and in a heavenly frame of mind, and was often heard quoting to himself the truths, “I, even I, am He that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins,” and “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” On Friday he had a stroke which rendered him speechless. He continued that way till the Saturday morning of the following week when he passed quietly away to be, we believe, forever with the Lord. “Then are they glad because they be quiet; so He bringeth them unto their desired haven.”
The large concourse of people who gathered to his funeral manifested the respect in which he was held. His mortal body was laid to rest in the local graveyard, where many of the Lord’s people lie, awaiting the time when “this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.” The Glendale congregation have lost a faithful and humble office-bearer, and a sweet singer in the assemblies of the church militant has been transferred to the glorified throng of the church triumphant, there to sing for ever and ever, the praises of Him who redeemed him and washed him in His own precious blood. Our loss which is very great is his great gain. We would take this opportunity of extending to his widow and grown-up family our sincere sympathy, and our prayer is that his family would seek and find that Saviour whom their father sought and found.—John Colquhoun.