At a Conference in Oban, in June, 1921, I saw Macfarlane for the last time. The Conference included the United Free Church and the Church of Scotland ministers in Argyll and the Isles, and was presided over by Principal Martin. I vividly remember the impression made on me when Donald Macfarlane at a meeting rose and spoke. He spoke out of the depths of his own religious experience, and as he went on, I could see the great gathering of ministers and missionaries fall under his spell as I fell under his spell twenty-nine years before. He was just the same. The voice was a little richer; the light in his eye a little brighter; the same play of humour and of deep feeling; the same mesmeric, indefinable emanation by which he made hearts captive. . . . When the meeting was over Principal Martin took me aside and asked, “Who is that man?” And I told him. “That is a most remarkable man,” said he. “Are there any more such in your Church among the Isles?” I replied that Donald Macfarlane was a man all alone by himself. At every meeting after that the ministers insisted that Donald Macfarlane should speak. They felt that a prophet had once more appeared among the Isles. That was the last I saw of him.

The Order of Caraid-anama receives no official recognition in the Presbyterianism of the Church of Scotland, but despite the absence of it the Order survives. The succession maintains itself unbroken to the great enrichment of God’s children, men and women whose work and joy it is to be the helpers of others, lanterns held on high for groping souls to follow after, swords to slay our ease, fellow-travellers to the Celestial City who are wise to know when we are weary and whisper “Rest,” or to chide our sloth with “Come, now, let’s trudge another mile.” Of this lineage was Donald Macfarlane. The sound of his name is music to my heart and the music is often there. I have interludes of forgetting. This is well; but of fine remembering too, and every time I do think of him I find that a voice keeps murmuring in my ear, “Caraid-anama, Caraid-anama.” Friend of thy Soul, Friend of thy Soul. My acquaintanceship with him was but a brief twelve years, and the only claim I have to write of him is that my friendship with him was of an intimacy given to few and that, in common with so many of my brethren in the Church of Scotland, his thought, his teaching and his spirit so interfused my own as to become at last an indestructible part of my being.

You can learn about him in this book in pdf format...

Donald Macfarlane of Gigha and Cara
A Biographical Sketch by Sydney Smith (1925) (pdf)