"Had I a wish on so solemn
a subject, I would be disposed to choose a sudden death." So had he
written some years before; and those who knew and loved him best, when
their grief was so far assuaged as to allow them to judge calmly, thanked
God for the time and manner in which it pleased Him to take His servant to
Himself. His death came when his work was in a sense complete. He had all
but accomplished his plans for meeting the spiritual necessities of his
great parish [What remained to be done was rapidly executed after his
death. Three of the Mission Chapels were endowed as parishes by three of
his friends—Kelvinhaugh and Bluevale (the first and the last he built)
being severally endowed by Mr. Whitelaw and Mr. James Baird, and his own
Mission Church erected into what is now called "The Macleod Parish," by
Mr. J. H. Houldsworth. The congregation of the Barony completed in like
manner the remaining parochial appliances which he had projected, and
built a Memorial Missionary Institute in a destitute part of the parish.]
He had borne his last mature testimony on behalf of India; and his work in
the Church and in the country had, in many ways, reached its fulness. Had
it pleased God so to order it, he would doubtless have meekly accepted the
burden of an enfeebled old age spent in retirement, or, by divine grace,
would have patiently endured protracted suffering, and watched with
fortitude the slow approach of certain death. But neither of these
experiences—both so trying to a temperament like his—was allotted to him.
His active nature did not survive its usefulness; and instead of being
kept under what, to his vivid imagination, might have been the appalling
consciousness of life slowly ebbing away, his spirit passed, without a
struggle, into that Presence in which his thoughts and affections had long
made themselves a beloved abode.
The news of his death
passed with extraordinary speed through the kingdom, and everywhere
produced a profound impression. No man, since Chalmers, was so much
mourned in Scotland. People who had never exchanged a word with him felt
and spoke as if a personal friend had been taken away, and those who had
deemed it their duty sometimes to oppose him even with bitterness, were
the foremost to pay honour to the rich humanity and religious nobleness,
which had raised him above the influence of all party strife.
A vague rumour of his death
having reached the Queen she at once telegraphed for information, and with
that ready sympathy which has so endeared her to the nation, she addressed
the following letter to his brother:—
"Balmoral, June 17th, 1872.
"The Queen hardly knows how
to begin a letter to Mr. Donald Macleod, so deep and strong are her
feelings on this most sad and most painful occasion —for words are all too
weak to say what she feels, and what all must feel who ever knew his
beloved, excellent, and highly gifted brother, Dr. Norman Macleod!
"First of all, to his
family—his venerable, loved, and honoured mother, his wife and large
family of children—the loss of this good man is irreparable and
overwhelming! But it is an irreparable public loss, and the Queen feels
this deeply. To herself personally, the loss of dear Dr. Macleod is a very
great one; he was so kind, and on all occasions showed her such warm
sympathy, and in the early days of her great sorrow, gave the Queen so
much comfort whenever she saw him, that she always looked forward eagerly
to those occasions when she saw him here; and she cannot realise the idea
that in this world she is never to see his kind face, and listen to those
admirable discourses which did every one good, and to his charming
conversation again!
"The Queen is gratified
that she was able to see him this last time, and to have some lengthened
conversation with him, when he dwelt much on that future world to which he
now belongs. He was sadly depressed and suffering, but still so near a
termination of his career of intense usefulness and loving-kindness, never
struck her or any of us as likely, and the Queen was terribly shocked on
learning the sad, sad news. All her children, present and absent, deeply
mourn his loss. The Queen would be very grateful for all the details which
Mr. D. Macleod can give her of the last moments and illness of her dear
friend.
"Pray, say everything kind
and sympathising to his venerable mother, to Mrs. N. Macleod, and all the
family; and she asks him to accept himself of her true heart-felt
sympathy."
Among many valued tributes
of respect paid to his memory, but which it would be superfluous to
mention here in detail, [Among these may be mentioned the touching
allusions made on the Sunday after his burial in so many of the pulpits of
all churches in the kingdom; and of these there were none truer or more
beautiful than those spoken in the Barony by Dr. Watson of Dundee, and Dr.
Taylor of Crathie. Many kind notices of his life appeared at the time in
the Press, among which was an exquisite sketch of his career and
character, contributed to the Times by Dean Stanley; and similarly
affectionate and appreciative papers were written by Dr. Walter Smith in
Good Words, and by Mr. Strahan in the Contemporary. Addresses of
condolence were sent to his family from such public bodies as the
Presbytery of Glasgow, the India Mission, the Barony Kirk Session, the
Barony Sabbath School Association, the Bible Society, the Sunday School
Society of Stockport, the Scottish Amicable Insurance Society, of which he
was a director, the Sons of the Clergy, and several others. A tablet to
his memory has been put up in the Parish Church of Loudoun, where his
early labours are still cherished in the affectionate memory of the
people, and a statue is about to be erected in Glasgow. At Crathie, two
stained windows have been placed in the Church by Her Majesty—the one
bearing a figure of King David, and the other one of St. Paul—representing
the gifts of poetry and missionary zeal. On the former there is
inscribed:—"In Memory of the Rev. Norman Macleod, D.D., Dean of the Most
Noble and Most Ancient Order of the Thistle, Dean of the Chapel Royal, and
one of Her Majesty's Chaplains, a man eminent in the Church, honoured in
the State, and in many lands greatly beloved;" on the other, the
text—"They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament;
and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and
ever."—Dan. xii. 3. Several months after his death, his family were
surprised and gratified by finding the competency he had provided for them
largely increased by those who had loved him; and this was done in a
manner so delicate, as to make the mention of it here a privilege.] there
was one that, for many reasons, has a peculiar interest.
The Archbishop of
Canterbury, with characteristic catholicity of spirit, thus addressed the
Moderator of the Church of Scotland :-
'Lambeth Palace, London, June
10th, 1873.
"My dear Moderator,
"Will you allow me to express to you officially the deep feeling of sorrow
with which I have heard of the loss that has befallen the Established
Church of Scotland by the death of Dr. Norman Macleod? He was so widely
known in England as well as in Scotland, and, indeed, wherever mother
tongue is spoken, that his death seems a national loss. So zealous,
large-hearted, and gifted a pastor could ill be spared at any time to the
Christian Church. While his own people lament that they no longer hear his
familiar voice, winning them by his wise-spoken counsels, his written
words will be missed in thousands of homes in every quarter of the world;
and the Established Church, over which you preside, will deeply feel the
removal of one who held so high a place amongst its wisest and most
strenuous defenders.
"Believe me to be, my dear
Moderator,
"Your faithful servant,
"A. C. Cantaur."
It is unfortunately so
seldom the representatives of the National Churches of England and
Scotland exchange official communications, that this letter becomes the
more remarkable as indicating at once the wide influence exercised by Dr.
Macleod, and the reality of that unity in virtue of which, if one branch
of the Church suffers, the whole Church suffers with it.
His funeral took place on
Thursday, the 20th, and was celebrated with a solemnity unparalleled in
the history of the city with which his labours were so long associated.
The day was of heavenly
beauty, seeming the more beautiful that it had been preceded and was
followed by days of storm. There was a private service at his own house,
for the members of his family, at which his friend Dr. Watson officiated,
and from his house to the Barony church, where his remains were first
borne, the streets were lined with an observant multitude. The Barony
church was filled with the members of his own congregation, and of his
Mission churches, and the venerable Cathedral seemed doubly solemn from
the reverent throng of mourning friends and representatives of public
bodies gathered there to do honour to the dead.
Among those present were
Dr. Robertson, Queen's commissioner, sent by Her Majesty to represent
Herself and the Prince of Wales, and the Hon. E. C. Yorke, who acted in a
similar capacity for the Duke of Edinburgh.
The service in the Barony
was conducted by Dr. Burns, the minister of the Cathedral, and by Dr.
Walter C. Smith, of the Free Church, while Professor Eadie, of the United
Presbyterian Church, and Dr. Smith, of North Leith, officiated in the
Cathedral.
When the solemn services
were concluded, the cortege was accompanied to the outskirts of the city
by the magistrates of Glasgow, the sheriffs, the representatives of
Royalty, the senate of the University, and by other public functionaries
in their official robes; by clergymen of all Churches, gathered from many
districts of the country, and by the members of various religious and
other societies with which he had been connected. These preceded the
hearse, and behind it and the mourning relatives there followed a long
line of nearly three thousand persons of all classes of the community.
This demonstration of respect was the more gratifying that it was entirely
spontaneous. As the great procession moved on to the sad music of the
"Dead March," it was watched along the whole route by a vast multitude,
occupying every available position from which a view could be obtained,
and showing by their saddened aspect how deeply the hearts of the people
had been touched. One of the most remarkable features in that crowd was
the large proportion of workmen and of the poor, who came to pay honour to
the memory of him who had laboured so earnestly for their good. More than
one touching testimony was audibly expressed by these onlookers to the
benefit they had received from him. "There goes Norman Macleod," a brawny
working man was heard saying, as the dark column moved past; "if he had
done no more than what he did for my soul, he would shine as the stars for
ever."
As the funeral approached
Campsie, it was not only met by many friends, but as business had been for
the time suspended in the town, and the shops closed, the entire
population united in paying respect to the honoured dead, whose ashes were
to rest in the old parish where his early life had been spent.
He was laid beside his
father, and as the grave which was prepared for him was discovered,
unexpectedly, to be that of James, the two brothers, whose lives had been
linked by the holiest of all ties, were thus united in their last
resting-place.
Ere the coffin was lowered,
three wreaths of Immortelles were placed upon it. The first bore the
inscription, "A token of respect and friendship from Queen Victoria;" the
second, "A token of respect from Prince Leopold," and the third, "A token
of respect from Princess Beatrice."
The spot where he sleeps is
a suggestive emblem of his life. On the one side are the hum of business
and the houses of toiling humanity. On the other, green pastoral hills,
and the silence of Highland solitudes. More than one eye rested that day
on the sunny slope where he had so lately dreamt of building a home for
his old age—more than one heart thanked God for the more glorious mansion
into which he had entered. |