JOHN THOMSON’S
student career was largely influenced by that of his brother. He attended
Glasgow University in 1791-92, but the change of Thomas from divinity to
law, and his con-sequent settlement in Edinburgh, led to John’s removal
from the city of St. Mungo in the following session. Besides, the minister
had obtained for his other son, Adam, a situation in the banking house of
Sir William Forbes, Bart., through the kind offices of Mr. Thomas Kennedy
of Dunure, also one of the minister’s parishioners. With a view,
therefore, to completing John’s studies and preparing him for the
ministry, upon which old Mr. Thomson had now more and more set his heart,
seeing that his eldest son had abandoned it for the law, it was arranged
that the three brothers should lodge together in Edinburgh. John was
accordingly in November 1793 entered at the University of Edinburgh under
Professors Daizell and Hill, and committed to the care of his brother
Thomas, ‘to be coached for his classes’; but whether the tutor was easy,
or the pupil dull, not much progress seems at first to have been made, as
in a letter dated 13th November of that year, Thomas, writing to his
father as to the welfare of ‘the boys,’ complains that he has had some
‘difficulty to force John to exert his strength.’ This elicits from the
old man a characteristic reply, in which encouragement rather than reproof
is the dominating note accompanied with affectionate solicitude for his
children’s comfort. ‘My dear Jock, I have received accounts of you, and I
hope soon to hear from yourself. I have not the smallest doubt that a
continued application will make everything easy to you, and that your
success will increase with your pleasure.’ How wisely the qualification of
the ‘accounts’ he has received is passed over, so that ‘Jock’ is left
oblivious of their purport, whether they were good or bad! while the
inference as to difficulties being overcome by ‘continued application’
must have stimulated the laziest youth with any conscience to renewed
exertion. Then the letter winds up with a catechism, prompted doubtless by
good Mrs. Thomson, as to their victuals ;—how they breakfasted, dined, and
supped; what clothing they were wearing, etc. etc., and warning them
against the dangers of draughts, cold feet, and damp clothes!
The three young men, Thomas, Adam, and John, had
established themselves in lodgings in Hamilton’s Entry, Bristo Street,
owned by a Mr. Shepherd, described as ‘a civil, handy fellow.’ But though
poor, and in humble quarters, they were fortunate in having the
entrée to the best society Edinburgh could
afford. Lady Hailes manifested her regard for her old minister’s Sons by
having them frequently at her fine country residence of New Hailes, near
Musselburgh, when their professional engagements allowed. Thus in the
early part of November 1793 Thomas mentioned: ‘We all walked out to New
Hailes on Saturday last. Mr. Ferguson arrived there on Sunday. I returned
to town with him in the evening; the boys on Monday in Lady Hailes’
coach.’ Again, in a letter dated 27th December 1793, Thomas informs his
father: ‘John and I have been holding our Christmas at New Hailes.
Everybody is employed in feasting and making merry.’ A glorious place it
was for ‘the boys’ for other things besides ‘feasting and merry-making,’
though these would not be despised. The magnificent library of books
gathered within its walls by Lord Hailes must have been a literary
treasure-house for the growing antiquarian tastes of the young advocate;
while John must have found in the pictures which still adorn its walls
something to admire and study.
That by this time John had profited by his father’s
counsel, and had begun to settle down to his tasks, is shown by a letter
from Thomas in which he says: ‘John’s Latin lessons begin to be a good
deal easier than at first, and the whole now sits lighter on him.’ ‘I
think,’ he continues, ‘he will in a short time acquire habits of close
application.’ Eventually he proved to be a diligent enough student; made
the acquisition of a competent knowledge of literature, and specially
devoted a large portion of his time and attention to philosophy and
science, his readings in this direction being wide and varied.
But Mr. Shepherd’s lodging in Hamilton’s Entry was not
a mere cell of study and penance. Social and intellectual enjoyment found
within its four walls a hearty welcome, and the long winter nights were
often brightened by gatherings of young kindred spirits, whose aspirations
were, like those of Thomas, to the prizes of the legal profession.
Hamilton’s Entry was, in fact, a rendezvous’ of many of the younger men
then at the Bar, or qualifying for that distinction, many of whom
afterwards rose to eminence. Among others that might be named there were
Francis Jeffrey, William Erskine (afterwards Lord Kinnedder), William
Clerk, and Walter Scott. There these young aspirants to fame read German
together, and no doubt compared notes on that discursive reading to which
they—and especially Scott—were all addicted. From the interesting Memoir
of Thomas Thomson by Cosmo Innes, published by the Bannatyne Club, it
appears that Scott found the lodging in Hamilton’s Entry ‘an agreeable
retreat from the dull office in George Square, and liked especially to
steal away there to breakfast on Sunday mornings.’ John Thomson used to
speak with delight half a century afterwards of the conversations of Scott
and his brother Thomas, in which he assisted as a
listener, at these gay Sunday breakfasts in Bristo Street.
Naturally of a retiring disposition, John appears at
first to have had a difficulty in accommodating himself to the highly
intellectual atmosphere in which his brother moved. He felt like a man out
of his depth, and occasional longings for his colour-box and his music
would no doubt obtrude themselves on his Latin and other studies. For him
music had great attractions. He played the flute well, and a desire to be
possessed of a violin and to be able to perform on it had seized him. When
his brother’s companions were busy discussing the politics or literature
of the day, John no doubt felt himself a ‘nobody’ among them, and he,
honest soul, would probably have been glad to solace himself with a tune,
or, in quiet, to have worked over some favourite landscape.
But these luxuries had sometimes to be foregone. The
limited income of the minister could ill afford excessive demands; for
pinching and paring were necessary to keep the young men at college. Once,
in a letter by the young advocate—26th February 1797—to the minister of
Dailly, acknowledging receipt of a sum of money to assist ‘the boys’ at
their studies, he says: ‘John has for the present relinquished his scheme
of buying a fiddle, and has patriotically contributed the money to the
Exigencies of the State ‘—that is, of their joint purse—not at that time,
we fear, over well plenished, ‘which,’ he continues, ‘will, I hope, save
us from making further demands upon you at present.’
But more important matters were in hand than fiddle-playing; and the
future minister did well to ‘relinquish’ it just then. Though too young to
keep step in conversation with his brother’s companions, his modest
position as an attentive ‘listener’ no doubt exerted an important
influence in the formation of his character, and certainly he fully
appreciated the advantages of being admitted into such a circle. Scott
himself used to say: ‘Frank Jeffrey is a wonderful man; he reminds me of
the Princess in the fairy tale of "The Well at the World’s End," for he
never opens his mouth without diamonds and rubies dropping out of it’; and
of Scott the same, it will be remembered, was said by Captain Hall, ‘That
his mouth he cannot open without giving out something worth hearing, and
all so simply, good-naturedly, and naturally.’
That Thomson had powers of expression of
no common kind in spite of his modesty we do not require to say. As
a member of the Dialectic Society connected with the University, to which
he was admitted in January 1799, he evinced a lively interest in its
proceedings, and contributed in that same year at least one paper. It was
an essay entitled the Poems of Orpheus, ‘Orpheus of Highwaymen’
being a title popularly given to John Gay on account of his famous play
the ‘Beggar’s Opera,’ which, according to Sir John Fielding, was never
represented ‘without creating an additional number of thieves.’
During
the years John Thomson remained at college, both at Glasgow and Edinburgh,
he had but little time to spare for painting. In the summer months,
however, in the vacation, he assiduously pursued his favourite study,
sketching and painting from Nature; and in the course of his last session
in Edinburgh— whether with or without the
approval of his worthy father, we cannot say—he took a month’s lessons
under Alexander Nasmyth, a Scotch landscapist of no mean merit, and father
of Patrick Nasmyth, whose pictures are even more celebrated as works of
art.
On attaining his twenty-first year he had practically
completed his studies for the ministry, and was duly licensed on 17th July
1799 by the Presbytery of Ayr as a preacher of the Gospel. His father,
unfortunately, did not survive to witness his younger son’s admission to
the calling he had from his infancy predetermined for him, having died on
the 19th February previous.
Young Thomson had not long to wait for a charge. Strong
influence was brought to bear on the Crown, with whom lay the patronage of
Dailly, and he was presented by George III. to his father’s place
as minister of the Parish. His ordination by the Presbytery took place on
24th April 1800. Though barely of age to be eligible for so important an
office, he appears to have been equal to its duties, if we may judge from
a letter written at this time by Mr. George Cranstoun, afterwards Lord
Corehouse, to his brother Thomas, in which he describes John as ‘having
talents more than equal to the situation; though I believe, scarcely any
other young man at his age, and with so little previous study, would have
been qualified for so serious a charge. He must preach next Sunday from
that text: "Let him that hath no sin among you throw the first stone."’
If early initiated into the cares of the ministry,
Thomson early sought and obtained the assistance of a helpmeet.
Within a year after his ordination the young minister
bad courted and gained the affections of Miss Isabella Ramsay, the eldest
daughter of the minister of the adjoining parish of Kirkmichael. They were
shortly afterwards married (7th July 1801). Miss Ramsay undoubtedly was of
a good stock, and by her exemplary courtesy to all with whom she came in
contact, and by her thrifty household management, did much to keep up the
traditional good name of the Dailly manse. Her father, the Rev. John
Ramsay, died shortly before the marriage. He was a man of much shrewdness,
and though a minister by profession, was among the first who gave
themselves to farming enterprise in the district. He formed, and was the
first President of, the Carrick Farmers’ Society, and largely stimulated
the agricultural improvement of what had hitherto been a rather backward
part of Ayrshire. His advice to John Thomson after his ordination contains
some pawky sagacity ‘which it may not be out of place to repeat here.
‘John,’ he said, ‘I was your father’s friend, and now I am your friend,
and I gie ye a word o’ advice which ye mauna tak ill. First, keep aye the
fear o’ God; second, keep aye your feet on the crown o’ the causeway; and
third, do your duty, sir, and ne’er speir what the folks say o’ ye.’
Opinion in the parish seems to have differed in respect
to the young minister’s observance of the latter part of Mr. Ramsay’s
advice; for while it was clear he did not condescend to ask what his
people were saying about him, bad he been open to listen, he might have
found that not a few were thinking he was not doing his duty, or, at all
events, if he could not be charged with neglect of duty, they thought he
was taking up his attention with occupations not usually engaged in by a
minister of the Gospel. Reminiscences of these days are still current
among the parishioners of Dailly, and from one whose professional work
takes him much among them, we learn that he was frequently to be seen with
his sketch-book or easel in the woods of Bargany, Kilkerran, or Daiquharn.
Where there is a will there is generally found the way, and the study of
Nature in Thomson’s case impelled him, in spite of what might be said or
thought about it, to prosecute his artistic propensities with increasing
zest. Outdoor sketching and indoor painting, alternating with ministerial
duties to a large,
widely-scattered, and populous parish, left no spare
time for idleness, at all events. He might be seen sitting for hours
before an old tree at Maxweltown, or by the side of the Girvan water; but
the Dailly people could not understand it. Such devotion to painting
pictures showed conclusively that he had what they called ‘a bee in his
bonnet’; and some of them at least formed the opinion that a minister who
painted pictures and played on the fiddle was not quite orthodox, and
could be no safe spiritual guide for them. A few actually left the church,
and travelled Sunday after Sunday to the Burgher Kirk in Maybole—seven
miles from Dailly—in quest of what they deemed more wholesome spiritual
fare.
Notwithstanding this, however, and the fact that he was
early involved in the cares and anxieties attendant upon a young family,
Thomson’s enthusiasm for Art rather increased than abated. He painted, we
are told, a considerable number of pictures during these first few years,
most of which were distributed as gifts among his friends. Nor did he
confine himself to landscape; several portraits of more intimate
acquaintances which he attempted testified, it is said, to his accuracy of
perception and ability to delineate the human form divine.
We have, unfortunately, not been able to verify this
statement by our own observation. In all probability these early essays at
portraiture, if they have not perished, have been lost sight of. If still
in existence, they are, we fear, beyond hope of identification. He
himself, it is said, used to express the wish that he had preserved these
early specimens of his style in portrait-painting.
One amusing story is told, illustrative of his strong
artistic proclivity, which we cannot refrain from recording.
In those days the half-yearly communions were the
occasion of special demonstration in every parish, and the ‘Holy Fair’ of
Burns describes with graphic pen the scenes with which these occasions
were too much identified, especially in Ayrshire.
Usually several ministers from neighbouring parishes
were engaged to take a part at those sacramental observances, and as the
crowd of country people who made it a duty to attend was often greater
than the church could accommodate, ‘a tent' [This was an outside pulpit of
wood, with a covering as a protection against the weather, not unlike a
‘Punch and Judy’ show.] was fitted up in the churchyard, where preaching
and exhortation could be carried on while the communion was being
dispensed in the church. On this particular occasion the communion was
being dispensed in the neighbouring parish of Barr, and Mr. Thomson was
present. Being the youngest minister of the Presbytery, it devolved on him
to preach first from the ‘tent’; and having done so he sat down and gave
place to an older minister. Looking round upon the rustic congregation,
his artistic eye was arrested by a strikingly picturesque face and figure
from the hills; that of a venerable old man, whose lyart haffets, [Long
grey locks] light-blue coat, with large brass buttons, knee-breeches,
buckles on his shoes, and quaint old three-cornered hat, proclaimed him
one of a former century. The temptation was too strong to be resisted,
even on so solemn an occasion, and Thomson’s pencil and paper were at once
in requisition, and he was soon engrossed sketching the physiognomy of
douce old John Allan. But if not observed by the congregation, the
sketching had not escaped the eye of some of the members of his
Presbytery. Ever ready, then as now, to rebuke the erring and to correct
the faults of backsliders, these gentlemen gathered together in council
after the service and solemnly discussed the grave impropriety of their
young brother, and though reluctant to make a ‘case’ of it, the oldest of
their number was deputed to take an early opportunity of ‘dealing’ with
him privately. This opportunity occurred shortly afterwards in the manse
of Kirkoswald, at the next communion. Here the old man proceeded, with
grave face and solemn voice, to administer a suitable admonition and
rebuke, all which the Reverend John, listening in silence, appeared to
receive in meek submission. With downcast eyes fixed on his nervous
fingers carelessly toying with his pencil at the table, and giving only an
occasional shy glance at the face of his faithful mentor, he waited
patiently to the end. The old gentleman, thinking, no doubt, he had made a
favourable impression, and would be in the happy position of reporting to
the members of Presbytery the penitence of the culprit and a satisfactory
conclusion of the case, was highly pleased at Thomson’s behaviour. But
what was his horror when, at the close of his remarks, his supposed
penitent held up before his astonished eyes a thumb-nail sketch, showing a
laughable likeness of the old gentleman’s face, and smilingly asked, ‘What
auld cankered carl do ye think that is?’
But the minister’s sins of commission were not confined
to painting. We have already referred to his musical tastes. He had not
only when at college acquired a fiddle, but he had practised it with such
assiduity that he was quite an adept, and would spend hours at it in the
long winter evenings, to the great delight of his little household. Both
the violin and violincello he played with wonderful skill. Among the more
straight-laced of his parishioners their young minister’s talents in this
respect went for less than nothing. They looked upon it as a scandal to
his profession that so much of his time should be spent on what they
considered frivolous amusements, and several of the elders were moved to
wait upon him on the subject. They did so, and were most courteously
received by the minister and his wife. Having explained the object of
their visit, they proceeded apologetically to refer to the rumours that
were floating about in the parish, urging that it was not so much the ‘big
gaucy fiddle’ they objected to as the ‘wee sinfu’ fiddle’! Thomson heard
them good-naturedly, and then asked
them if they would like to hear a tune. Though not
quite prepared for this, the elders made no objections to the proposal;
the violincello was brought into the parlour, and he played a selection of
fine old Scotch airs with such pathos and feeling that, as a granddaughter
of his has told us, they were fairly melted to tears, and so impressed
with what they called its ‘holy hum,’ no more objections were ever raised
to his playing either the ‘big gaucy fiddle’ or the ‘wee sinfu" one!
Five years of busy active life had now passed over his
head as minister of his native parish. He was himself happy, and he
endeavoured to make others happy as well. He was blessed with a loving
wife and a young family, consisting of two boys and an infant daughter.
All his family ties and affections were bound up with the people among
whom he had been born and brought up, and over whom he had since his
father’s death had the spiritual oversight; while the familiar scenes of
many a sketching expedition o’er hill and dale, by running brook or
pastoral meadow, were all associated with his earliest years, and
doubtless kept a strong and loving hold of his heart.
But the happy days of his early manhood amid the sylvan
loveliness of the Girvan Water came to a close ere long.
His old friends in Edinburgh had not forgotten the
‘listener,’ and took the first opportunity of recalling him to the
capital. Through the death of the Rev. William Bennet, minister of
Duddingston, a vacancy occurred in that parish in 1805. The presentation
to the benefice lay with the principal heritor, the Marquis of Abercorn,
for whom Mr. Thomas Scott, Writer to the Signet, and brother of Walter
Scott, then acted as factor for the Duddingston estates. Thomas Thomson,
John’s elder brother, and Walter Scott being fast friends, the latter
easily persuaded his brother to use his influence with the Marquis on
behalf of the young minister. Accordingly, towards the end of the same
year, the church and parish of Duddingston were offered to and accepted by
Mr. Thomson, and the usual formal proceedings consequent on such a step
were at once begun.
