I warn everyone who loves his soul to be very jealous as to the preaching he regularly hears, and the place of worship he regularly attends. He who deliberately settles down under any ministry which is positively unsound is a very unwise man. I will never hesitate to speak my mind on this point. I do believe, if false doctrine is unmistakably preached in a parish church, a parishioner who loves his soul is quite right in not going to that parish church. To hear unscriptural teaching 52 days in every year is a serious thing. It is a continual dropping of slow poison into the mind. I think it almost impossible for a man wilfully to submit himself to it and not take harm. I see in the New Testament we are plainly told to “prove all things” and “hold fast that which is good” (I Thess. v. 21). I see in the Book of Proverbs that we are commanded to “cease to hear the instruction which causeth to err from the paths of knowledge” (Prov. xix. 27). If these words do not justify a man in ceasing to worship at a church, if positively false doctrine is preached in it, I know not what words can.—Knots Untied by Bishop J. C. Ryle (p. 451).
The late Mrs. Helen MacQueen, Inverness.
Mrs. Helen MacQueen was born in the town of Inverness. She received a sound religious training in the home of her father, James Campbell, who followed the business of building contractor and became an elder in our Inverness congregation. After leaving school, Helen, being the oldest of the girls in a large family of ten children, stayed on in the home to help her mother. She then went to England to train as a nurse at Macclesfield General Infirmary. When her training was completed she enlisted for army service about the middle of the First World War, and joined the Queen Alexandra’s Nursing Service. On the return of peace she came home to Inverness, and shortly afterwards became the wife of Mr. John MacQueen, the marriage service being performed by the late Rev. D. MacFarlane, Dingwall. Mrs. MacQueen’s married life was spent in the districts where her husband held teaching appointments, first at Raigbeg School in
Tomatin, afterwards at Leachkin School above Inverness, then at Beauly, and finally at Inverness, when Mr. MacQueen became headmaster of Markinch School in 1938; and she settled down in the old home at 6 Ardross Place. When her godly parents were both living many who came the way enjoyed much kindness in their home. These and others can testify that the same kindness and hospitality continued to be shown to the Lord’s people after her parents were removed. It was here that Mrs. MacQueen finished her earthly course after a long and trying illness.
Mrs. MacQueen, who possessed a thoughtful, vigorous mind, taking largely after her worthy father, seems to have come under soul concern at an early age. She confessed that she did not pass through much mental conflict, but the Lord used the troubles which met her in life as the means of blessing her soul. An incident which happened during her years of war service solemnly impressed her. A young soldier under her charge in hospital held atheistical views which he was given to expressing openly. This caused her the greatest grief. However, when it became apparent that he would not recover and he felt the approach of death, he appealed to her in agony of mind: “Sister, pray for me.” These words she never forgot, and decided her upon seeking more earnestly salvation for herself. While living at Beauly, the family being still very young, Mrs. MacQueen’s time was fully taken up with her home duties, for she was an affectionate mother. She had, therefore, little opportunity for mingling in the social life of the district, which, to a woman of her energetic mind and orderly habits, might have strongly appealed. She afterwards expressed thankfulness to the Lord that He had so ordered her life at this period that she was preserved from going much into the company of the world. She was especially attached to our late missionary in the Kilmorack congregation, Mr. Hugh Munro, for the public exercises of this gracious man were highly valued by her. Even before leaving Beauly her health began to fail, but she was still able to attend to her home duties.
Some time after coming to Inverness an operation became necessary, and she never after fully recovered her strength. In 1949 she passed through another long and trying time in hospital which further shattered her health. It was a sign of her thoughtful, unselfish spirit that she refused to allow her daughter, Grace, to come home at that time, as she wished her to complete her training at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. By 1950 she was becoming more frail, and her daughter took a post in the Royal Northern Infirmary, Inverness, in order to be near her mother. Few people knew how much she suffered all these years. She was seldom free from pain and discomfort but bore her affliction with quiet courage and Christian meekness. Despite two other spells in hospital her condition deteriorated gradually, and her daughter came home altogether to care for her. Every
attention that she could give her mother or medical science could suggest was lovingly bestowed, but finally in the early hours of Saturday morning, on 26th June last year, she passed away from this earthly scene to be, we believe, “for ever with the Lord,” where her spirit is now at rest.
Mrs. MacQueen became a member of our Church at Tomatin in the summer of 1947. The communion season at Inverness had just passed and, although she had followed the services with profit and encouragement, she still hesitated to come before the Session. In the following month of July, however, she determined to make a public profession at Tomatin, and was admitted to membership; the Session was greatly pleased and satisfied with the account she gave of her religious experience. Though a member so recently, it was evident that the good work had been proceeding over many years. She often spoke with grief of the declension of the Professing Church and the growing irreligion in the country; her heart was firmly set upon the testimony of the Free Presbyterian Church which she the more highly prized on that account.
During the last six months of her life she was further greatly distressed by the onset of another trouble, but even then her thoughts were always of others even in the midst of her suffering. At the time of the January communion in the congregation, when she was very ill, and her daughter wished to stay with her, she expressed regret at the thought of keeping others from the services, and said, “You must go out and enjoy the communion and be happy.” She then referred to the last two verses of Psalm 40: “Let all those that seek thee rejoice and be glad in thee; let such as love thy salvation say continually, The Lord be magnified. But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinketh upon me; thou art my help and deliverer, make no tarrying, O my God,” remarking, “The first verse is for you, and the last for me.” It was only during the last weeks of her life that she allowed herself to express the desire that her daughter would not leave her for any length of time, although many friends would gladly have given their help to attend her.
At first she did not apprehend any danger, or that she might not recover, as she had done on so many previous occasions, but as the summer wore away she was in almost constant pain from angina which injections could only partly relieve. She was led then to conclude that the end might be drawing near, and when the pain became intense she grew reconciled to the Lord’s will and expressed a longing to be removed. The words were always in her thoughts at this time: “Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them.” She spoke of how thankful she was that she had attended to the concerns of her soul when she had the strength to do so. While conversing with her husband several nights before she
passed away, and fully realising then that the end was near, she said, “I have been a poor Martha all my life, but Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.” She had often expressed herself as having derived much soul comfort from a sermon preached on the above portion of Scripture by one of our ministers assisting at a communion season. It was indeed “Through much tribulation she entered the Kingdom of God,” and for her it seemed to have been the Lord’s will to use bodily suffering, along with spiritual experience, to bring her out of the world and unite her to Christ. On the evening of the last Sabbath before her death, while her daughter was sitting with her, she opened her eyes and said: “Oh, this came to me just now with such force: ‘My presence shall go with thee and I will give thee rest.'” This truth remained for some time with her and strengthened her. It was evident that by this means the Lord was preparing her for the last great change. On the day before her death she suffered greatly from weakness and loss of blood. The same words came to her husband in the school and to Grace in the home: “They shall be brought with gladness great and mirth on every side, into the palace of the king and there they shall abide,” which helped to lighten their sorrow and reconcile them to the divine will. She lapsed into unconsciousness a few hours before the end, which came about four in the morning, to release her for ever from the sufferings of this present life and bring her the rest and peace she longed for.
To her bereaved husband, her two sons in India, her daughter Grace, who so lovingly and unsparingly nursed her during many months of illness, and to her surviving brothers and sisters at home and abroad, we extend our sincere sympathy. “Until the day break and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.”—A. F. M.
Searmonan.
LEIS AN URR. TEARLACH C. MAC AN TOISICH, D.D.
SEARMON I.
(Air a leantuinn bho t.d. 312.)
Is e, uime sin, dleasdanas mór agus sár-ghnothuech ministeir an t-soisgeil a bhi cur an ceill trócair Dhé, an fhlirinn iongantach gu’n do ghrádhaich, mar so, Dia an saoghal, gu’n d’thug E aon-ghin Mhic Fein, chum ‘us ge b’e neach a chreideas ann nach sgríosar e, ach gu’m bitheadh a bheatha mhaireanach aige; a bhi cur an céill gu’m faod peacaich creidsinn agus a bhi air an tearnadh; a bhi deanamh aithreachais agus a bhi toirt a mach toradh iomchuidh an aithreachais; a bhi creidsinn agus a bhi air an gluasad leis a chreidimh so gu Dia ghlor-achadh na’n ouirp agus na’n spioradaibh, is le Dia. O! cia cho aoibh-
neach agus a chuireadh-mid an céill an soisgeul so na’m b’urrainn-mid a bhi breithneachadh a ghràis a tha air a thasgadh suas ann; na’m b’urrainn-mid ar còir fhein fhaicinn ann, agus a bhunait sheasmhach a tha e toirt seachad air son dòchus ceann-feadhna na’m peacach. Oia cho mòr agus a bhitheadh ar tlaichd ann a bhi ga chur an céill, na’m mothaicheadh-mid neo-chriochnachd na trocair a tha air a fiollseachadh ann, agus an gràdh a tha dol thar gach uile eolas. Agus ciod e’n dìrachd, an taisealaichd, agus an dilseachd, leis an sparradh-mid oirbhse gabhail ris, na’m b’e agus gun gabhadh-mid gu eridhe luachmhorachd bhur ‘n anamaibh, agus cho eagalach ‘s a tha’n fhearg a tha gabhail comhnuidh air a pheacach; na’m b’e agus gu’m bitheadh-mid ri saothair oirbh gus am bitheadh Criosd air a dhealbh annaibh; na’m b’e agus gu’m bitheadh-mid air ar co-eigneachadh le gràdh Chriosd agus le mothachadh air cìnteachd agus cho do-bhreithnich-te agus a bhitheas teanntachd na muinntir a ni dìmeas air an t-slàinte mhòr so. Agus O! eia mar a leumadh bhur eridheachabh-se gu gabhail ris, na’m b’aithe dhuibh agus na’m fairicheadh sibh bhur suidheachadh fein mar pheacach, agus na’n gabhadh sibh an soisgeul so, cha’n ann mar a tighinn bho chnuimh bhochd is bràthair dhuibh, ach bho Righ mòr na flaithneas, aig am bheil a lagh dioghaltach gu teth an tòir oirbh.
Ach mo thruaigh, eia cho furasda ‘s a tha e dhùinne an seisgeul so a shearmonachadh gu fuar. Agus O! ciod i’n fhàilte through a tha e gu bitheanta a coinneachadh ris bho’n a h-anamaibh caillte traugh dha’m bheil e air a chur an céill.
Mar eil an ni sin a thug comhfhurtachd do aon dhe na naoimh a bu shoilleir a bha riamh air thalamh ann a bhi dluthachadh ris a bhàs—thainig Iosa Criosd a dh’ionnsuidh an t-saoghail a thearnadh pheacach, do mis an ceud aon—a buintean ri teud ‘n a do bhroilleach, ma na briathran beannaicht’ sin gu’n seadh dhuit, mar eil iad a giulainn ni air bith ga’d ionnsuidh gu pearsanta—tha fios againn c’ar son, agus tha sinn air ar gairm gu sin a chur an céill dhuit-sa. Is e chionn gu’m bheil thu fathasd marbh ann am peacaidhean agus ann an euceartan, air a leithid do dhòigh agus gu’m bheil dearbh mhothachadh fathasd ri bhi air fhiollseachadh dhuit. Tha fios againn mar an ceudna co dh’ionnsuidh a tha so a dol agus ciod a chrioch uamhasach a bhitheas aig an tearuintachd so. Am bàs siorruidh.
O. uime sin, dùisgibh gu mothachadh air bhur suidheachadh. “Dùisg, thusa a tha a’d’ chodal, agus eirich bho na mairbh, agus bheir Criosd solus duit.” Dùisgibh, sibhse a tha beo gun Dia agus gun Chriosd anns an t-saoghail. Dùisgibh, sibhse a tha beo mar gu’m b’e an saoghail so ‘ur dachaidh. Dùisgibh, sibhse a tha dol mu’n cuairt gu bhi cur air chois bhur fireantachd fein. Tha lagh dioghaltach Dhé an tòir oirbh, agus ma gheibh e sibh an taobh a muigh de fhasgadh fuil an Fhir-shaoiridh, tha bhur truaigh ri teachd cìnteach. Abradh an saoghail a thoil, mar eil an leabhar beannaichte so na bhréig, tha an saoghail na luigh anns an droch aon, agus air a thoirt seachad do
sgrios. Abradh an saoghal a thoil mu thròcair Dhé agus cho neo-fheumail agus a tha eagal agus iomagain a thaobh staid shiorruidh, luath na mall feumaidh uamhar ar cridheachan a bhi air a toirt a nuas, agus sinne a bhi sleuchdadh aig cosaibh Dhé. Is cinnteach gu’r fearr a bhi mar so’n uair a tha E air cathair gràis, agus a thogas làmh rioghail a thròcair suas sinn, na bhi air ar briseadh ‘n ar bloigh-dibh le slait iarruinn.
Is ann a tha òran na muinntir shaor-te air neamh “Dha-san a ghràdhaich sinn, agus a dh’ionnlaid sinn ‘o ar peacaidhean ‘n a fhuil fein.”