"Ian Maclaren"; the life of the Rev. John Watson, D.D.

Front matter

THE LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN WATSON, D.D.

"IAN MACLAREN"

THE LIFE OF THE

Preface

Of Dr. Watson it is most true that " no man is able to show to those who knew him not what he was; no man could show this to those who knew him in a way that they would feel satisfying." His sympathy, his tenderness, his kindly humour were to those who knew him inseparable from his presence, and all attempts to describe or report him must be sadly inadequate. But for the friendship with which he honoured me and for the love I bore him, I have done my best. There is nothing in this book which is not strictly truthful and based on indisputable authority. I have thought it my duty to set him forth as he was, and to give his own views as nearly as possible in his own words. It will be seen that on important points he differed seriously from the majority in his own Church, and it was thought by many that he sometimes fell into deep indiscretions. I do not agree with this view. His " indiscretions " were merely the frank statement of his differences. He would never allow himself to be misconceived, and while he had the greatest patience with the opinions of others he firmly maintained the right to assert his own.

I have had throughout the most valuable co-operation of his son Mr. Frederick W. Watson, B.A., who has helped me largely in almost every part of the book. If these pages do not reveal John Watson as a man of

vii viii PREFACE

many gifts, of large and generous nature, of unwearied fidelity and service, and above all as a devoted minister of the Church of Christ, I have completely failed.

Cordial thanks are due to many friends who have given their aid. My obligations to Mrs. Stephen Williamson ; to Principal Oswald Dykes ; to Vice-Chancellor Dale; to the Rev. Dr. C. F. Aked; to the Rev. R. C. Gillie; to Mr. John Lee; to Sir Oliver Lodge; and to Mrs. De Home Vaizey are very great.

Hampsteao, September, 1908.

Chapter I II III IV

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XX

XXI

PAGE

New College, Edinburgh .... 41 The Ministry — Logiealmond and Glasgow 61

His Ministry in Liverpool — Preaching 80

Public Work 131

Home Life and Foreign Travel . .137 "Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush" . .155

Correspondence 309

Resignation of Sefton Park Church . 325

Conclusion 359

List of Works 367

IX

CHAPTER I

The personality of John Watson was complex and many-sided. I am convinced that the best helps to the understanding of it are the facts that he was a Celt, that his ancestry on the mother's side was Roman Catholic, his grand-uncle being a well-known and influential priest in the Highlands, and in particular that more than most he was acutely sensitive and responsive to the environment in which he found himself.

Without unduly anticipating what is to follow, the Celtic character of Ian Maclaren's nature may be briefly indicated. He possessed all the leading characteristics of the Highlander, for he was a Jacobite, he was fiercely patriotic, and he was superstitious. A few words may be added in illustration of these points. He was a Jacobite through and through, and like his Roman Catholic blood, so this Jacobite strain came to him through his Highland mother. He could bring all the weight of his logical mind to bear on the question. He could lay the claims of the Stuarts in shreds, but his heart always prevailed, and it was his love of that sweet Scots song, " There grows a bonnie brier bush in oor kailyaird," which furnished the name to his most popular book. The Jacobites wore this flower as an emblem of their cause. " I chose this title," he said, " because the suggestion of the book is that in every garden, however small and humble, you may have a flower. . . . This is the whole idea of my writing, to show the rose in places where many people look only for cabbages." He had a great love for the old Scots songs. He would be strangely affected by such as " The Earl of Moray," a special favourite of his, and " Wae's me for Prince Charlie," and one with the lines

" He turn'd him right an' round about. Upon the Irish shore.

An' gae his bridle reins a shake

With Adieu for ever more, my dear.

With Adieu for ever more."

'He considered this the saddest and most beautiful of tunes. In this he showed the strong vein of romance and melancholy of the Highlander, who is moved to tears by the tales of long ago. It was difficult for him in his books to avoid some reference to the '45. We hear of it in Kate Carnegie, and even in that unromantic study of The Scot of the Eighteenth Century he cannot help mentioning the Rebellion when he says : " In my possession I have a Theophrastus printed in Greek and Latin in the seventeenth century, which came down to me through the eighteenth century, when it was carried to the Rebellion in the pocket of a Highland chief, so that on his march to restore Prince Charlie he might read the chapter ' De Desperatione,' and I am bound to say there has also come down to me with the Theophrastus a silver Quaich or drinking cup, with which the worthy Chief would refresh himself when weary, without stopping to drink at the brook." He sometimes spoke of writing a

EARLY DAYS B

novel on the '45 period, and his collection of Stuart books was of a very beautiful and costly nature.

He was extremely patriotic, and always had a great affection for the Army. He used to tell how he played truant at Stirling School to watch the Highland regiments drilling in the fields below the Castle, for his ancestors were either soldiers or farmers. Among his early recollections was one of pictures in the Illustrated London News giving some of the scenes in the Mutiny. All Scotland rang with the exploits of the 78th Ross-shire Highlanders, who had followed Sir Colin Campbell to the relief of Lucknow. When that regiment returned home, it was ordered to Edinburgh, and was publicly reviewed in the Queen's Park. Watson's father thought that the boy ought to be taught patriotism, and that his memory should be stored with a recollection of mighty deeds. For weeks before this review he told his son the history of the Highland regiments, from the days after the rebellion of 1745 on to the Crimean war, and especially he aroused his enthusiasm with the description of the long marches and gallant deeds of the 78th as they went to save the women and children from death. He was taken to Edinburgh and never forgot the scene. After the 78th had left the ground they marched before the hotel in Princes Street where the Empress of the French was then staying, and she, who had seen many soldiers, declared that she had never looked upon a stronger or more martial body of men. As they passed that day in company, and as soon as the General had returned their salute, the people up and down the line burst into cheers, crying " Well done,

78!" "You saved the women and children!" "The Highlanders for ever ! " Then it was that the boy's heart — he was only eight — gave way and he wept. Even the processions in which he took part gave, I imagine, quite a pleasurable sensation to his dramatic and poetic mind. It was largely through his influence that the Liverpool Scottish Volunteers were incorporated, and as Chaplain he was one of the keenest members. One only had to see him marching behind the battalion mopping his brow, but full of delight in everything, to realise that the divine, the novelist, the public speaker were for the time gladly put in abeyance. In the period of the South African War he was full of enthusiasm. He preached sermons on Patriotism which made a very great impression in Liverpool, and influenced many young men to volunteer for active service. I believe he was more proud of his son going to the front than of any achievement of his own. His address to the Volunteers was not the calm exhortation of a modern divine : it was more the harangue of a Celt in whose mind Scotland and the deeds of ancestry were supreme. And then, as their fortune ebbed and flowed, but for the most part ebbed, he became greatly depressed, and on opening the paper one morning, and seeing the terrible disaster to the Highland Brigade at Magersfontein, he flung the paper down. " Oh, dear ! " was all he said, but he scarcely spoke that day, so near to his heart lay the fortunes of his race. Patriotism with Watson was not a braggart jingoism. He steadfastly taught with Regnault, that a true patriotism means a serious, pure, and honourable life.

He was superstitious, as his mother was before him. She would turn the carriage home again if a hare crossed the road. There can be no doubt that there was a distinct strain of superstition among his connections. When he was Hving in Logiealmond Free Manse, he had a housekeeper who worked for him during the day and returned in the evening to the village, leaving him alone. One night he said he heard footsteps in the room above. They came downstairs very slowly, halted before his door a moment, then continued down to the kitchen. Although feeling somewhat nervous, he opened the door and called " Martha," wondering why his housekeeper had stayed so late. He received no answer, and went downstairs. No one there. He searched the whole house. Every window and every door was locked, and yet he says he was working, and in no way sleepy.

On another occasion he heard a tremendous crash in the kitchen like the falling of a great number of dishes. He hurried down, but everything was in its place, and the room was cold and empty. He believed thoroughly in the supernatural nature of these strange occurrences, and had a fervent conviction of the reality of spiritual communications. Though he did not tell his stories to every one, he would relate to some that one day he felt an uncontrollable desire and anxiety to see a friend in Glasgow. Believing thoroughly in the mysterious impulse, he journeyed north without delay, and was in time to speak to his friend before he died. While visiting one afternoon, he suddenly had a strong desire to see a certain member of his congregation. It seemed

6 LIFE OF L\X MACLAREN

absurd, however, to yield to tliis vague feeling, because it meant a long and perhaps useless walk in the opposite direction. He resisted it for some time, but at last surrendered his will, and turned and reached the house. " Oh, Dr. Watson, how extraordinary, and how fortunate ! " the lady of the house said. " My daughter is taken suddenly very seriously ill, and she has been terribly anxious to see you, but of course we knew that you would not be at home." He had some curious compact with his mother which was made on her death-bed, and he firmly beheved that he was in touch with her all his hfe. He called it his mother's Tryst, and said that this influence had been a great bulwark against temptation.

The inquiries of his friend. Sir Oliver Lodge, and the Psycliical Research Society, of which he was a member, moved him to the profoundest interest. He considered the veil between the two worlds to be very thin. Along with his friend, Henry Drummond, he studied the subject of hypnotism at Edinburgh, and within two years of his death he was making a close investigation of patients under hypnotism in the consulting rooms of a scientific doctor. Spiritualism interested him, I think, not so much from a scientific, as from a rehgious standpoint. Though Watson did not trouble sceptics with his spirituahstic yiews, he was unusually intolerant on the subject, and did not hesitate to describe the people who sneered at Spiritualism as ignorant fools. I may add that the shadow of early death brooded over his most intimate talk and letters, and that amidst the crowding engagements of his prime he seemed to be very conscious that all these wanderings were drawing towards the inevitable rest.

John Watson's Roman CathoHc ancestry made a factor not to be ignored in his life. He never, so far as I know, had any sympathy with the sacerdotal theory of the Latin Church; indeed in almost the only public controversy he ever undertook he set himself to the demolition of that theory. All the same, as we shall see, the asceticism of the Roman Church had a strong fascination for him. He thoroughly believed in the sincere Christianity of Roman Catholic priests and people. Sometimes in moments of doubt and perplexity his heart went back to the Churches where the faithful were peacefully singing the Hallelujah of the Resurrection as to a last inviolate sanctuary. He was once in a Roman CathoHc church in Italy. Before the altar to the Virgin there was a woman, her lips moving devoutly in prayer. As she was making her way to the door after ending her devotions, Watson asked her in Italian some question about the points of interest in the building. By and by the conversation turned upon the differences between the Roman Catholic and Protestant religions, especially in regard to the fact that Protestants do not address prayers to the Virgin. " Don't you ever pray to the Mother of God? " " No," said Watson, " for it seems to me that all you find which is holy and helpful and adorable in the character of that most revered and beautiful of women, all that and infinitely more I find in her Divine Son." " Yes, sir," she said wistfully, " I understand that, but you are a man, and you do not know how a woman needs a woman to pray to." " My dear good soul,'* said Watson very gently, " yes, 3^es, I understand. I think I know something of a woman's heart, of a woman's needs. I take back all I said. Forgive it, forget it. Do not let an^^ word of mine stand between 3^ou and 3'our prayers to the Mother of our Lord." On Sunday evenings in Liverpool when he had completed his hard and honourable labour he delighted in the company of Roman Catholic priests, and some of them, like Father Day and Father Castle, were among his warmest, most appreciative, and most beloved friends. Catholic mysticism alwa3^s possessed for him a great and holding charm.

Never was a man more susceptible to the atmosphere around him. He simply could not live in a hostile air. He could be overborne by views of religion which in fact were not really his. Though he had plenty of courage, and could stand by a losing cause, his thoughts did not flourish in inhospitable soils or chilling winds. For liis work he needed the warm and sunny consciousness of s^nnpathv. He could face contradiction and opposition, but not the steady en\dronment of antagonism. It followed that when he was pla^'ed upon by crossing influences his real power was to a considerable extent paralysed.

Though John Watson prided liimself on his Scottish ancestry, it was his fortune to be born at ]Manningtree, a little old-world village in Essex, on November 3rd, 1850. In this he was the victim of circumstances. His father was a Receiver of Taxes and became in the end Receiver-General of Taxes in Scotland. When his son and onh' child was born he was stationed at Manningtree, pleasantly situated on the banks of the Stour at a point where it broadens into the estuary which has Harwich at its mouth. Manningtree has a population of only a few hundreds, a large percentage of whom derive their livelihood from seafaring occupations. But the child remained only a very short time in the place, and was never influenced by it. The preacher whom he most admired, Robertson of Brighton, had as father and mother Scots of very old family, but Robertson was mainly aff'ected by his English environment. Watson, on the other hand, though his great work was done in England, considered himself a Scot of the Scots. " I am a pure Highlander," he once confessed to an admirer. " My mother was a Maclaren and came from Loch Tay, and spoke the Gaelic tongue. My father was born at Braemar, and Gaelic was the language of my paternal grandfather."

At about four years of age Watson was taken back to Scotland and lived with his parents at Perth, where later he attended the Grammar School. His father, so far as is remembered, was a somewhat stern, methodical Scotsman, a devout Free Kirk elder, not without some sense of humour, but of too grave and businesslike a nature to be attracted very greatly by the ludicrous. A servant of the Government, he was most particular that no word disparaging either to his Queen or employers should be permitted in his presence, and every Sunday the toast " The Queen " was drunk with much grave loyalty. John Watson followed his father in adhering to the Conservative side in politics, though he took little part in the political controversies of his day. Watson's mother possessed an extraordinary gift of mimicry, and a keen sense of humour. It was from her that he inherited his power of story-telling and repartee. Many a time his father endeavoured to check appreciation at the successful mimicking of some pompous personage whose peculiarities and mannerisms had formed the subject of her sport immediately after his departure. A splendid and fearless horsewoman, she accustomed her son to ride from infancy, and in spite of the expostulations of her husband, and sometimes, though more timidly, of her child, she mounted him on the wildest of farm colts.

Of Watson's boyhood in Perth, Mr. G. A. Mackenzie, his schoolfellow and oldest friend, has most kindly written to Mr. Frederick Watson: —

I fancy we got to know one another from the fact of our families being near neighbours and of his father and mine being fellow office-bearers in St. Leonard's Free Church. We lived then in No. 10 Marshall Place, Perth, and Mr. Watson first at No. 19 and afterwards at No. 4 Marshall Place. I find that Mr. Watson was ordained a Deacon in St. Leonard's in 1855, so that your father and I must have known one another from the time we were about five years old at least. I was about six months his senior. We were together when we were very small at a Ladies' Boarding School where young gentlemen of tender years received the elements of education. I have no very definite recollections of what we learned, but I remember one class of *' Useful Knowledge " which we thought very amusing, and he used to " chaff " me for getting as a prize, The Little

Child's Book of Divinity. The good ladies — some of whom still survive — have been lifelong friends. Whenever your father visited Perth, he made a point of calling at the old School, and I know he was warmly welcomed and pointed to as an example of all the virtues. From the Misses M *s establishment, we passed to Perth Academy, and he has chronicled our experiences there in Young Barbarians.

We usually spent our Saturdays together, and I was always particularly keen to make out that it was my turn to come to his house. I suppose this is the way of children, but I think it also indicates that Mr. and Mrs. Watson were very kind to young folks. Of course, we played all sorts of children's games together, and I remember especially the attraction of some splendid " bricks " — wooden blocks for building houses, and all sorts of wonderful erections. The special charm was to build a castle which, if our architecture was successful, was topped by a pinnacle carrying a red silk flag. There was also a magic lantern which was exhibited on very special occasions, and I think John was usually the exhibitor, assisted by his father. It was the first magic lantern I had seen and left a very vivid impression, although I think now, with all the modern improvements, it would be considered a very poor affair. John had a canary which was kept in a brass cage, and sometimes as a great treat we were allowed to see the canary having a bath. We moved in 1858 to No. 1 Athole Place, and the principal amusement when he came to my house was playing " keerie " in the back green when my brother and sister joined us, and sometimes having an encampment under big trees at the far end of the back garden. In wet weather we had " hide-and-seek " indoors, and one of the last times I saw him he recalled how once we were certain that somebody had hid in a particular

12 LIFE OF L\X MACLAREN

closet because the door, when pushed open, always quietly swung back, giving the impression that there was some one behind it. Sometimes we had evening parties at one another's house, and there is a tradition in our family that John, who was rather a delicate child, used to be carried along by his nurse rolled up in a warm plaid. On arrival he was deposited in the hall, and carefully unwound.

I have been trying to remember what our story books were, but I can recollect nothing except The Swiss Family Robinson, Peter Parley, and Men that have risen. The Swiss Family must have made a deep impression, because I remember among our favourite haunts a place at the top of the South Inch which we dubbed " Falcon's Nest," where we attempted to reproduce the most vivid incidents from that story. I can point out the place to this day. ^Mien the weather was good, we used to have frequent excursions to " Cragie Knowes " and the " Woody Island." The latter figures largely in Young Barbarians. I should like to say here, however, that in that book, as in all his tales, it is impossible to identify real characters. He had too much good feeling to paint actual portraits, although those familiar with the scenes in which he moved, and the people he met, knew that his characters were drawn from life. For instance. Dr. Davidson, the minister of Drumtochty, is in no sense the portrait of the parish minister whom he knew at Logiealmond, or of any parish minister who was ever there, although he told me he had in view a parish minister whom he met in his boyhood and for whom he had a great esteem. In the same way, while the scene of Young Barbarians is laid at Perth Academy, many of the characters, both masters and boys, are, I fancy, taken from his life at Stirling.

I must not omit to mention a great expedition which I made with him to Kinross and Loch Leven. Your grandfather, as you know, held the post of Collector of Customs at Perth, and in the discharge of his duties had to pay a yearly or half-yearly visit to Kinross, On the occasion referred to, Jolm and I were to accompany him. I remember well the excitement of my having to go the night before from Athole Place to Marshall Place to sleep, in order to be ready for an early start in the morning. We drove in a waggonette by the Great North Road through Bridge of Earn and Damhead to Kinross. The *' Collector " held his collection in the Inn on the main street in the town. We boys supposed we were very helpful in counting the cash paid by the various small merchants and old wives who took out licenses to deal in tea and tobacco, and after the business of the day was over and the books closed, we all sallied forth to the shore of Loch Leven, where we spent the afternoon. That was my first visit to that historic scene and made a very deep impression on my mind.

Watson, who had a humorous way of depreciating himself, used to describe himself as averse from study, retiring, and slow-witted in his cliildhood. His father once threw a book at his head, and remarked with much frankness that " of all the stupid blockheads he stood alone." While at Perth he paid frequent visits to his maternal uncles, the Maclarens, who farmed their own land near Blairgowrie. In fact till the end of his college days he was accustomed to return during holidays and vacations to the farms, and in this manner acquired not only a knowledge of the country, but a great love for farming, and a desire to foUow that profession.

His friend, the Rev. Dr. D. M. Ross of Glasgow, writes : —

In the summer of 1871, it was my good fortune to have many a talk with Watson. My father was a near neighbour of his uncles Archibald and William, who were successively tenants of the farm of Grange of Aberbothrick. There was a good deal of coming and going between the two farms, especially when the two students were at home for the summer holidays. Watson had by this time " discovered " Dr. Barty, the parish minister of Bendochy, who supplied him with many a touch in his subsequent portraits of the Scottish parish minister. He had also " discovered " Dr. Baxter of Blairgowrie, whose evangelical earnestness struck deeper chords in his nature; what with his characterisation of the sayings and idiosyncrasies of ministers in the neighbourhood, of farmers at market or at roups, and of ploughmen in the fields or in the bothies, and with his never-ending sallies, he made the tea-table at Grange or Leitfie a lively centre of wit and merriment. Now and again, his father, courtliest of men, would intervene with an " O John!"

Much of the colouring of the sketches of Drumtochty was borrowed from the Grange, and from the farms of his other uncles a few miles off in the neighbourhood of Blairgowrie. For example, within a short distance of the Grange is, or rather was, for a bridge has now been built, the Barmondy ford in the river Isla. In my boyhood, a horse and cart with the driver were swept into the deep water below it and were lost. Watson told me in later years that this incident had coloured his description of the crossing of the Drumtochty ford.

He had a minute knowledge of the details of farm work and farm life, long before he became minister of Logiealmond. It was on the large farms of Strathmore he got his insight into the seamy side of the life of farm-servants and the extra hands employed in harvest time, and in potato lifting I believe that he several times acted as paymaster for the casual labourers on behalf of his uncles, and was thus brought into close contact with them. His experience of their moral laxity was, I believe, exceptional. With reference to this experience, he said to me in later years, that if he were to depict some phases of rural life, as he had known it. The House with the Green Shutters would have been considered, in comparison, a flattering portrait. The occasions for the abuses he deplored were absent on the smaller farms in the Logiealmond district. But if in his literary sketches he idealised life on a Scottish farm, this was due not to ignorance of the grim realities but to his high conception of the moral functions of literature.

My mother and he were greatly drawn to each other. In later years when he had become famous, he never missed a chance of calling upon her, and it was a joy to him to get a clap on the shoulder from one who had known and liked him as a young lad. With that tender thoughtfulness which was characteristic of him, he sent her a beautiful little letter of congratulation on her 87th birthday.

It happened occasionally that he and I rode together or drove about the country in a gig. One drive I recall. He was at the time under call to St. Matthew's, Glasgow. We started from my home to drive to Glenisla and climb Mount Blair — a distance of fifteen miles. We had to put up our horse at the farm of Abrick (on the lower slope of the Mount), owned and tenanted by a well-known godly man, Mr. John Mackenzie, an esteemed friend of Dr. Alexander Whyte. We had to introduce ourselves, the one as a minister of the Free Church, the other as a divinity student.

(This was in 1877, when the Robertson Smith controversywas just beginning.) Before the good man would have anything to do with us, he put two searching questions : " Had ye ony whisky at the inn as ye came by? " " D'ye belong ti thae infidel young men o' oor kirk ? " Our reception was discouraging. But when I let it out that my friend was under call to be colleague to Dr. Samuel Miller, frigidity gave way to effusiveness. Straightway, Watson was deep in talk upon theological problems with the good man, and so prolonged was their talk that I feared we should never see the top of the hill. We did the ascent, and on our return to Abrick there was a bountiful " spread " for Dr. Miller's future colleague.