It may be said of this excellent man, that he
inherited the virtues of the clerical character by descent. His father
was minister of Arngask, in the county of Fife, and his maternal
grandfather, the Rev. Mr. David Williamson, of the parish of St.
Cuthbert's, Edinburgh, was a celebrated clergyman in the days of the
persecution.
Mr. David Johnston was born in 1733. His early years
were sedulously devoted to the study of those acquirements necessary for
the important office which he was destined so long and so honourably to
fill. After attending the usual academical courses, and having obtained
authority to preach, his character and talents soon procured for him the
parish church of Langton, in Berwickshire, to which he was ordained in
1759. He remained there, however, only about six years, having been then
called to the more important charge of North Leith, the population of
which, though at that time only seven hundred, had increased to as many
thousands before his death.
There are seldom any striking incidents to record in
the biography of a parish clergyman. "The even tenor of his way" is less
liable to be disturbed by those ruder shocks which frequently assail men
in other spheres of life. This observation is peculiarly applicable to
the subject of the present sketch. If we except the frequent alarms
experienced by inhabitants of Leith during the early part of the last
war, when the country was threatened with foreign invasion, and the
interesting yet arduous duty which he faithfully discharged in consoling
the fears and animating the courage of his people, no occurrence very
peculiar falls to be narrated within the scope of his history; but it
would require a volume of no ordinary dimensions to note down all the
acts of genuine Christian philanthropy in which he was engaged almost
every day of his existence. In the pulpit he inculcated, with
earnestness and power, those principles and doctrines which all feel to
be the very basis of the moral structure; while, in his parochial
visitations, he sedulously laboured to carry the precepts of religion
home to the firesides of his parishioners. On one of his catechetical
rounds among the cottages of the fishermen of Newhaven, the curious
version of Adam's fall was given, which, as the anecdote is
illustrative of that peculiar class of people, will be found related in
our notice of a "Newhaven Oyster Lass." Many still alive remember with
what diligence their venerated pastor continued, even in old age, to
visit the humble dwellings of the poor, and to attend the bed of
sickness and of death, carrying along with him that consolation which
the mission of peace never fails to bestow. Neither was his solicitude
confined to the spiritual welfare of his people. In their temporal
affairs he took a lively interest, and felt for their misfortunes as if
they were his own. "To the widow, he was as a husband—to the orphan, as
a father—to the destitute and helpless, a steward of Heaven's bounty;
their protector, patron, and support."
Dr. Johnston's philanthropy was of the most active
description. He was no sentimentalist, to weep at the recitation of a
well-told tale, and yet turn his eyes away from actual misery. In a
maritime district such as North Leith, where a great portion of the
inhabitants are engaged in the precarious and dangerous occupation of
fishing, casualties are of frequent occurrence. The moment he heard of a
case of distress, he could not remain satisfied without instantly doing
something to assist the sufferers; and, while he was no niggard of his
own means, he was indefatigable in his endeavours to procure aid from
others. Whether his charity was exerted in behalf of individuals, or of
institutions, he was equally unremitting in his endeavours ; and
whenever a benevolent project was pointed out to him, he entered into
the scheme with the most ardent enthusiasm, and prosecuted it with
untiring energy. Perhaps there was no one of whom it could more truly be
said, that "he went about continually doing good."
The only dilemma in which the good old Doctor is
known to have been placed with a portion of his parishioners, occurred
when the old church of North Leith—abandoned to secular purposes—was, in
1817, supplanted by the present building, with its handsome spire,
surmounted by a cross. Some of the out-and-out Presbyterians saw
in this emblem an alarming approach to Popish darkness; and, not
infrequently, when in the course of his visitations, he found himself in
the •place of the catechised. On this subject the Doctor
held only one opinion ; but, in deference to the zealous declamation of
two old women whom he one day encountered, and who had fairly borne him
down by strength of lungs, if not by strength of argument, he at last
exclaimed—" Well, well, what would ye have me to do in the matter?"
"Do!" replied one of them; "what wad ye do—but just put up the auld
cock again!"
With the establishment of that benevolent
institution—the Blind Asylum of Edinburgh—the memory of Dr. Johnston is
affectionately associated; and so deeply and actively did he interest
himself in originating and promoting funds for the undertaking, that he
might with justice be designated its founder. So much were his feelings
bound up in the success of the institution, that he regularly devoted a
portion of his time to give it his personal superintendence, and watched
over its progress with all the fondness of a parent. This surveillance
he continued every day in the week, except Saturday and Sabbath, walking
to and from Edinburgh; and, at the extreme age of ninety, gave proof of
the wonderful degree of muscular activity for which he had always been
remarkable, by performing the journey as usual. He disdained the modern
effeminacy of the stage-coach ; and, in going up Leith Walk, generally
got a-head of it.
Both in person and in features, Dr. Johnston was
exceedingly handsome; and in dress and manners he was a thorough
gentleman of the last century. He died at Leith on the 5th of July,
1824, in the ninety-first year of his age, and sixty-sixth of his
ministry, leaving behind him one daughter, the only survivor of a large
family, who was married to William Penney, Esq. of Glasgow. Some years
prior to his death he had been assisted in his parochial duties by the
Rev. Dr. Ireland.
The remains of this much respected and patriarchal
clergyman were followed to the grave by upwards of five hundred persons,
among whom were many of the most distinguished citizens of Edinburgh and
Leith. The inmates of the Blind Asylum, who had been so much an object
of his care, lined the access to the churchyard; and, by their presence,
added much to the melancholy interest of the scene. The Kev. Dr.
Dickson, of St. Cuthbert's, preached the funeral sermon on the Sabbath
following.