The Reverend Roderick Lawson was parish minister in Maybole from 1863 - 1897:
34 years during which he encouraged, guided and lectured the whole community
towards a fuller and better life. More important to us, all his life he suffered
from what he called 'an itch for scribbling '- an itch which resulted in a
series of pamphlets and books, many on local history, and
Monthly Letters which
build up into remarkable picture of a community during the latter half of the
19th century.
Lawson's kirk stands in the south east corner of the town where Whitehall
falls away into the Coral Glen, and church and manse are perched on a steep,
woody slope on the edge of the country. It is as often known as the Glen Kirk as
by its proper name of West Parish Church, and the old minister himself would
have approved of the name, for he never really believed in boundaries -
parochial or denominational. 'If good is done to anybody,' he once declared, 'I
care not what church they belong to, or whether they belong to a church at all.'
He went further: from the evangelist Moody he learnt that Christianity was not
'a mere offering of goods for sale, but persuading people to buy them.'
Thereafter, he spent the whole of his life persuading the community to 'buy' a
better life.
Roderick Lawson was born at Girvan on March 15th, 1831, the son of a
ropespinner. He believed he was born in house in Henrietta Street, but his
parents moved soon afterwards to No. 119 Dalrymple Street and it was there
that he spent his childhood. There was little money to spare, so he had to
augment a simple parish school education by devouring everything readable in the
Mechanics' Institute Library, by listening to articulate working men, and by
debating issues in the Argumental Society. The combination turned him into
confident young man, sure of his opinions, able to write well, and with an
ambition to help others.
Scotland was short of teachers in the late 1840's, so
the Church of
Scotland's Education Committee offered £20-a-year bursaries and a free training
to young men who would become teachers under their auspices. Lawson applied for one of these bursaries, and was accepted as a student
at Glasgow Normal School.
In due course he passed out top of his class.
He became a teacher at Bainsford, near Falkirk, and
later at Blantyre, and it
was during these years that he first turned to writing. He had no grammar or geography textbooks for his pupils so he sat
down and wrote them. He loved teaching and many years later admitted that his
years as a teacher were the happiest he ever knew.
The Rector of Glasgow Normal School encouraged him to leave teaching for the
ministry and, with that in view, Lawson matriculated at Glasgow University in
the early 1850's. His name appears on the Latin class lists for 1853/54 and the
Logic class lists for the following session but, although the General Council
Register states that he "did four sessions," there is no record of his
having graduated. In 1857 he moved to Edinburgh to study Divinity.
By this time he had too deep a knowledge of worldly things to be a mystic or
a scholar immersed in deep theological works. 'As to books,' he wrote, 'I
learned my theology chiefly from The Pilgrim's Progress, and nourished my soul
on such works as John Howie's Scots Worthies and Thomas A Kempis's Imitation of
God. But perhaps I owe most of all to Thomas Carlyle, who, in my student days,
kindled a fire of moral enthusiasm in my heart, and taught me to live above
conventionalisms.'
A lifetime in the Kirk didn't change that view: one of the last things he
told his parishioners was, 'I have no objection to the man of doctrine, or the
ecclesiastical man, or the mystic. These follow their bent, and I follow mine.
But my disposition lies towards the practical. I like something to do. And one
reason why I prefer this is that it unites me to all good men. Other kinds of
minds dwell on points of difference: mine dwells on points of agreement.'
This unconventional approach is reflected in the comments of the divines of
Edinburgh Presbytery who heard his trial discourse at the completion of his
studies. Dr John Paul of St. Cuthbert's took exception to Lawson's use of the
word 'jocund' in the pulpit, and Dr Maxwell Nicholson of the Tron Kirk gave it as
his opinion that the sermon was calculated to do no good whatsoever. Dr Robert
Wallace of Trinity College Church, later a good friend to Lawson, saved the day
by saying that he supposed what would please the Presbytery might not please the
people and vice versa. It was an inauspicious start to his ministry.
As a student Lawson had been inspired by the great Dr Norman Macleod, and he
accepted an invitation to become one of Macleods missionaries. However,
Macleod's cousin, the Rev. John Macleod, minister of Newton-on-Ayr, recognised
the young minister's quality, too, and asked for him to be released to become his assistant. So Roderick Lawson went to Newton-on-Ayr as
assistant minister in 1861. The work at Newton-on-Ayr was arduous and varied,
On: average he preached once a week in the church, superintended the Sabbath
School, presided over the literary society, lectured occasionally, held kitchen
prayer meetings and visited the sick.
At first he memorised his sermons, and delivered them with diffidence until
the Newton minister told him You are far too apologetic Drive at them and never
heed apologies! Lawson abandoned his carefully worked out notes and 'drove at
them,' evolving his own style, which was to preach from a topic rather than from
a text. Roderick Lawson, the lecturer, was finding his own way.
At Newton-on-Ayr Lawson developed that love for working with children which
had helped him as a teacher and which was never to leave him. He contributed an
article, How to teach a Sabbath class to the Edinburgh Sabbath School Teachers'
Magazine, and he began to write for The Dayspring, a children's magazine,
published by J. and R. Parlane of Paisley.
Thus in that first year of Roderick Lawson's ministry the pattern was set for
his life's work in Maybole.
At the beginning of 1863 the West Kirk at Maybole, still under the patronage
of the Fergussons of Kilkerran, fell vacant, and Sir James Fergusson gave it to
the young assistant at Newton-on-Ayr. Lawson was delighted to return to his
beloved Carrick, where he was to spend the 34 remaining years of his ministry.
Dr Wallace from Edinburgh came to the West Parish Church on Thursday, 14th
April, 1863, when Lawson was inducted as Parish minister, and at the dinner
which Sir James Fergusson gave in the Buck's Head following the ceremony, and in
church the following Sunday he spoke highly of the new minister. The luke-warm
comments of the trial discourse in Edinburgh were forgotten as he told the
congregation 'I am confident that you will find in him a gift of preaching above the usual
standard.'
Although Lawson's first Sunday in Maybole was a pouring wet day crowds came
from Ayr, Girvan and the neighbouring parishes to swell the congregation which
heard him preach. Unconventional as always, he did not set out his aims and beg
his parishioners' help in achieving them. He drove at them from the text, 'Ye
are the light of the world,' and made it clear that he expected their lights to
shine brightly in Maybole. 'It is true that other congregations will raise far
more money for Missions and send forth much more intelligent labourers to the
Sabbath School and Prayer Meeting Still all these defects even were they ten
times greater will not annihilate the duty which lies upon us to do what we
can.' 'Do
what we can.' That was his own philosophy, and it was what he expected of
others.
Maybole
badly needed Roderick Lawson. In 1863 the town was empty and in decay. Its
handloom weaving was all but dead and the shoe trade was only beginning. The
poor were in desperate straits and moral values were low. Maybole needed someone
who cared about its physical and spiritual welfare, and Lawson was just such a
man.
The
Kirk Session's new minute book, begun on 1st June following his appointment,
reveals the magnitude of his spiritual task.
James
Connoway, Robert Cran, Mary Fisher and Margaret Mcllwain all confessed the sin
of fornication before the Session, and the minister, 'after a serious rebuke and
solomn admonition, did, in the name of the Session, absolve them from the
Scandal of their sin, and restore them to the privileges of the Church.' A week
later four more sinners confessed, in July another five, and in August Hugh Gray
and Mary Thornton confessed the sin a second time and Thomas Malcolm and Mary
McCaush a third time. And so it went on month by month.
It
saddened the new minister also to discover that the old Scottish practice of
marriage by simple vow without blessing of the Kirk was common in the town, and
he tried to seek out such couples and persuade them to go through a marriage
ceremony before him. As a result he was able to boast that he had married half
of Maybole. He had to admit defeat when he asked one old woman to bring her
husband to the Kirk and be' married,' only to be told, ' Na, na, I'd raither get
rid o' him.'
Lawson
made his patron and parishioners work for the Kirk. In 1871, with the aid of the
farmers, the paths leading to the Church and manse were relaid with gravel, and
the following year he paid £6 out of his own pocket towards the painting of the
kirk seats and putting up a lamp at the church door. Sir James Fergusson also
contributed £6 towards the £32 l0s. needed for the work. By 1873 the whole of
the church had been cleaned and painted and new joists inserted in the roof.
The
pattern of Lawson's ministry was very much the same as that which he had
established at Newton on-Ayr He preached, held kitchen prayer meetings all over
the town, lectured and toured the country accompanied by his faithful little
terrier, visiting, baptising, marrying and comforting the dying and the
bereaved. He preferred to baptise or marry parishioners in their own homes,
although this could lead to problems, as when he arrived once to find an elderly
bride-groom so drunk he couldn't stand. Relatives begged the minister not to
disgrace them by calling off the wedding, one of them pleading, 'The old man's
only drunk in his legs.' Another time the wedding ceremony was in progress in a
cothouse when the senior cat of the house without warning leapt on to the
minister's dog and sank its claws into the terrified animal's back. The wedding
had to be halted while the animals were separated and thrown outside to continue
their quarrel.
Although
he never married and had no family of his own, Roderick Lawson was deeply
devoted to children. He insisted on taking the last half hour of the Sunday
School himself and used surprisingly modern methods, including visual aids. He
talked to the children in their own language, with their own images. Ca' canny,
but ca' awa' was his subject one week. Ca' canny an' you'll no' coup he told
them another, and once he exhorted, Ca' your girr in life just as you do in the
street on weekdays.
In
Summer he encouraged the pupils to bring posies of wild flowers for the best of
which he gave prizes. The flowers then became the subject of a Sunday School
address and a children's talk, and it was one of these lectures, Our Common Wild
Flowers, which was Lawson's first Maybole lecture to be published in 1883.
For
the children he produced question and answer booklets, or catechisms, on various
subjects - Scripture knowledge, Bible antiquities, the Christian life, the
Lord's Supper, Good Manners for Boys and Girls and the Shorter Catechism.
The
Shorter Catechism was a cornerstone of learning for every child in the
Church of Scotland in those days, but the name 'shorter' was misleading.
'Although ostensibly only for those who are of weaker capacity,' Lawson wrote,
'the Shorter Catechism has always been found in practice to be a hard
book to beginners.' So he was delighted to accept an invitation from Macniven
and Cameron, an Edinburgh publisher, to produce a version with commentary and
Scripture proofs.
It
sold by the hundred thousand. He estimated that in the first few years of its
life his Catechism sold a quarter of a million copies-and it is still alive
today When Macniven and Cameron ceased publishing Lawson's Catechism some 40
years ago the Free Church of Scotland took it over and it is still in print
selling about 1,500 copies a year throughout the English speaking world where
evangelical Presbyterianism is practised. The Rev. Professor G. N. M. Collins,
of the Free Church praises it as masterly and with clear definitions.
Evangelism
appealed to Lawson so he took up the cause enthusiastically when a great
religious revival swept Scotland in 1874. Lawson led the movement in the town,
which a preacher, John Anderson, said was as deeply stirred as any place in
Ayrshire. On a single Sunday, Anderson had to address 10 meetings in Maybole.
Lawson, with statesmanship, involved the other Maybole ministers in the movement
which, he pointed out, 'not only swelled the numbers but disarmed the
opposition.' A great conference was held in the barn of Littleton farm at
Girvan, when Patrick Riddel, a Border wrestler turned evangelist, spoke, and a
publication called The Maybole Evangelist was started up. Like the movement.
however, The Maybole Evangelist was short lived, and no copy has been traced
today.
The
temperance and anti-tobacco causes were as close to Roderick Lawson's heart as
evangelism and he lectured and crusaded against both with very mixed results.
Always he used the written word to back the spoken word, and his illustrated
temperance tracts sold for years at 10s. 4d. per 100. The titles were lurid - The
Water Cure, Temperance Shot, The British Sirens "Whose feet go down to
death," A Word of Cheer to all Well Wishers of the Temperance Cause and The
Great British Drink Trap into which many fall and out of which few Escape.
In
his first sermon in Maybole Lawson talked of each man's duty to do what he can,
and he lived up to it, turning his hand to whatever needed to be done within his
Kirk or outside it. In his autobiography he wrote, 'I have sung, recited, lectured and edited,
as well as acted the part of Showman, Writing-master, Historian, Poet, Musician
and General Improver.' General Improver: what a happy description for the man
who undertook so many things for his town.
When
he arrived in Maybole he was disturbed to discover that about half of the people
who came to him to be married were unable to sign their name, so he started
Monday evening writing classes at Whitehall School. Soon he had 100 pupils, and
by the end of the session many of them could write a letter fairly well. It gave
him great happiness to receive letters from these people later.
To
help these same people to save he instituted a penny savings bank Soon it was
being used by the whole town and was receiving between £20 and £30 every week
By 1887 the bank held £1,140 of Minibolers' money. Not all of his efforts
succeeded, and it disappointed him that his temperance efforts never brought the
results he had hoped for. Strangely, for one who was so close to youth and the
working man, his two other failures were in trying to establish a Boys' Brigade
and a working men's club. The latter began with a flourish and soon had 323
members but numbers quickly fell off. Although concerts and lectures organised
by Lawson paid for two rooms in which members could meet and for periodicals for
them to read, the furniture and piano eventually had to be sold off to pay the
club's debts.
Failure
did not deter Lawson: it spurred him on to new efforts. When Maybole's best
known fresh water spring, the Wee Spout in the Glen, fell into decay, he raised
£32 to repair it and put over it the motto: Ye may gang farther and fare waur.
That was the start: from then on he lectured, preached and penned pamphlets to
save the crumbling ruins of Crossraguel Abbey, to commemorate the great
Reformation debate between John Knox and Abbot Quintin Kennedy, and to pepper
the district with more than 50 wayside seats. And when money ran short in the
summer of 1892 he painted 24 of these benches himself.
Occasionally,
Lawson the minister was overwhelmed by Lawson the showman. Ayrshire was
Covenanting country, famed for the Coventicles of the 17th century, and the
minister held his own latter-day coventicles on summer Sundays throughout the
parish - at Crossraguel, Kildoon, and the old Kirkyard. Hundreds flocked to hear
his popular sermons, and Lawson seized the opportunity to take up a special
collection for his 'improvements,' not all of which earned Maybole's approval.
The townspeople have not forgiven him for persuading the Council to change old
street names like Dangartland, New Yards and Kildup to more refined Drummellan
Street, Cassillis Road and Welltrees Street.
As
he walked the district, his terrier at his heels, the minister talked, listened,
collected ballads and gathered more lore about Carrick than any man had ever
done before. It all went into his lectures, pamphlets and, when he came to
expand these into little books, into them too. Then he extended his travels to
take in all of the Covenanting country the Burns country, Arran, the Highlands,
then parts of England, Europe, and even India.
He
often took off his clerical collar on these jaunts and sat round the table with
other travellers telling stories. When they asked what he did he told them he
was in the 'spirit line.' To his parishioners, most of whom had scarcely strayed
over their own parish boundary, it must have seemed as if Roderick Lawson had
done everything. He visited the Great Exhibition in London in 1851 (and saw the
Queen), he spent a season preaching to the fisherfolk at Lerwick, he sang Rock
of Ages as he watched the sunrise over the Taj Mahal, and he preached to
thousands in a Culcutta square. He also boasted that he once preached in a
lunatic asylum to a very attentive audience.
Lawson
shared his experiences ungrudgingly with Maybole, and devoted the proceeds to
his pet projects in the town. Saturday evening penny readings, begun in the
Whitehall School, soon had to transfer to the large hall of Alexander Jack's
agricultural implement works, and even that was filled to capacity.
No
detail was small enough to be missed, and one can imagine puzzlement on the
bland Maybole faces as he described his voyage to India in the liner Golconda
in
1888. There are no night-shirts worn on board,' he said, 'but instead, a loose
jacket and trousers, called pyjamahs, in which gentlemen passengers are allowed
to walk about till breakfast time.' He didn't say whether he walked the deck in
pyjamahs or not, and nobody dared ask, but he certainly must have set many minds
wondering.
He
also had the knack of reducing things to terms which his local listeners or
readers might easily understand. Flying fish he wrote, were about the size of
herrings. 'Their flight resembles the semi-circular jerks of a wagtail, although
when startled by the ship being close at hand, it resembles a stone skipping on
the surface of the water.'
Writing
of the Taj Mahal, he said, 'It is the great sight of Agra, and everybody goes to
visit it, as strangers flock to visit Burns' Monument from Ayr. Secunderabad he
found not unlike the gardens at Kilkerran.
James Parlane, the Paisley publisher who had printed some of Lawson's writings in
The Dayspring, heard about the minister's lectures and offered to publish his
children's talk on wild flowers as a pamphlet in 1883. The same year he
persuaded Lawson to expand another of his talks into a small book, and the
result was Crossraguel Abbey. From then on a book followed every year until the
end of the century.
Subjects
varied - Sacred Places of Scotland, Famous Places of England, Glimpses of
Norway, What I saw in India, Places of Interest About Maybole. The Covenanters
of Ayrshire (his own favourite), Ailsa Craig (my favourite), and so
on and on . They were not enduring literature, and he said so himself, but
the novelist S. R. Crockett spoke highly of them and greeted Capital of Carrick
as 'capital and Carrickteristic.' Above all, however, Lawson's local books
preserved the history and legends of Carrick.
His
talks were often illustrated with songs and these were published with music,
often arranged for part-singing, because Roderick Lawson believed in involving
as many members of the community as he could in his activities. Subjects of the
talks varied and those published included The Homes and Haunts of Burns,
National Anthems of the World. The Ballads and Songs of Carrick, and The Romance
of Missions.
In
the late 1870's it became the fashion for ministers to publish local supplements
to Life and Work, the Church of Scotland magazine, but this idea did not satisfy
Roderick Lawson because the supplement would be seen only by the small
percentages of the congregation who subscribed to Life and Work. Instead he
decided to circulate a monthly letter addressed to all members and adherents of
the church. Thus in April 1880 began the West Parish Church Monthly Letter.
In
the first issue he wrote, 'In this Letter I shall speak of matters belonging
more especially to the congregation. It is intended as a medium of friendly
intercourse between us, and will treat such topics as I might naturally take up
if I were actually writing to you with pen and ink.'
The
Monthly Letter was never a parish magazine. Neither was it a letter, nor
confined to the Glen Kirk. It gradually expanded into a kind of local magazine
giving news of the Church, exhortations to a more Godly life, and of course a
wide range of news of Maybole and exiled Minibolers as well as Lawson's own
traveller's tales and local history, which he could not resist.
Distributed
by willing Sabbath school teachers and elders, its circulation rose to 1,600:
1,100 copies among the town's 4,400 inhabitants, and 500 posted all over the
world. It was financed entirely by voluntary subscription and, although the
minister was never out of pocket it did grieve him that distant readers were far
more generous than local folk.
Needless
to say he missed no opportunity to remind fellow townsmen of their failings -
although he didn't labour these - and sometimes this brought letters of abuse
and (on one occasion) a threat of legal action.
He
was generous towards backsliders, though, and once said, 'To my mind there are
only two kinds of folk in the world - the good and the bad - and I have a kindly
heart towards both of them.' He proved this by devoting a whole page of one
Monthly Letter to a generous obituary of John Flynn, a local man who had died
soon after being released from jail for the 104th time.
In
1887 he erected, at his own expense, a memorial stone over the grave of Johnnie
Stuffie, a simple eccentric of the town during Lawson's youth. Then he suggested
in the Monthly Letter that those who had teased Johnnie in life might make some
atonement by contributing to 'improvements' to the town. Lawson's poem on
Johnnie does not reveal the minister as much of a poet, but then he never did
claim to do things well - in his view it was more important to attempt than to
succeed.
A
queer wee man, wi' a simple air,
Was Johnnie Stuffie.
Weel-kenn'd alike by rich and puir
Was Johnnie Stuffie.
The water-carrier o' the town,
The messenger to a' aroun',
An' the butt o' every idle loon,
Was Johnnie Stuffie.
Nae common bonnet crown'd the held
0'
Johnnie Stuffie,
But an auld lum-hat was there instead
On Johnnie Stuffie;
A lang great-coat, ance thocht genteel,
Ay wrapped him roun' frae neck to heel,
Which only did the feet reveal
0' Johnnie Stuffie.
For
17 years the Monthly Letter continued to appear regularly, reporting Lawson's
travels, his work and comments on all of his activities. He sharpened his pen to
fight the dragons of authority when they pleaded that the town had no money to
replace the old town bell which had rung curfew every night for two centuries.
Lawson fought the Council decision and eventually raised the money himself to
buy a new bell, which was known for years as 'Mr Lawson's bell,' and which rang
the curfew each night until the outbreak of the Second World War. He used the same pen to charm townsfolk into adding to the
hundred books he had given to start a library for the Poor House.
When
he attended the General Assembly his report was not altogether approving, but he
did have the grace to admit when he was bested at one of the Lord High
Commissioner's levees at Holyroodhouse. Smarting from the tact that one of the
temperance breakfasts he attended generated 'little heat or light,' Lawson
looked on at the pageantry of the levee sourly. At last he commented to a lady
beside him, 'these are the pomps and vanities of this wicked world.' She smiled
sweetly. 'Yes, and aren't they very nice.' For once the old minister was left
without an answer.
Another
month he wrote with timeless accuracy on the modern woman. 'I may honestly say
that I like all kinds of women, except two,' he told his readers. 'And those two
are the New woman and the Old woman. The New woman according to my description
of her, is a woman trying to be a man; while the Old woman is, for the most
part, a man trying to be a woman. And for neither of these personages have I
much sympathy or respect.'
His
description of the New woman might have been written yesterday. 'The New woman
is a female human being who smokes cigarettes, wears tailor-made clothes, uses
vehement language, and insists on her rights everywhere.' The Old woman was
'narrow, censorious and desperately afraid of what the public will say. She is
good enough in her way, but it is a very small way.'
The
great appeal of the Monthly Letter was its blend of information, local gossip
and glances at the district and the wider world through the sharp eyes of the
minister. Lawson was under no illusion that he was writing fine prose in either
the Monthly Letter or in his books. He was dealing with facts and opinions which
were clay to be remoulded and recast time and again to suit his purpose.
Dayspring pieces found their way into book form in Sacred Places of Scotland,
Famous Places of Scotland and Glimpses of Norway. Then a piece in the
Monthly
Letter went unchanged into Maybole and Its Historical Associations: from there
into Maybole, Past and Present and then into The Capital of Carrick. Changes
were made here and there and some stories disappeared for various reasons, but
most survived unchanged.
His
writing was for the moment, not for future generations. He once said, 'Some
writer has noted that fact that nobody's books except those of geniuses, are
either bought or read after their death. But this fact does not in the least
distress me. My writings are not meant to be immortal. If they are useful in any
degree to the people among whom I have lived I shall be glad; if not. I shall
not be too disappointed. A man is not bound to achieve success in this world; he
is only bound to aim at it.'
The
Monthly Letter's success must have been gratifying, but time was passing and
Lawson began to find it harder to produce it month by month. By the end of 1895
he was wearying and announced that the Monthly Letter was to be discontinued.
His readers begged him to reconsider, and the Letter went on without a break.
But the minister, now 65, spent much of the year 1896 travelling in search of
better health - to the Channel Islands, to France and to Perthshire, which he
declared 'a beautiful county, perhaps next after Ayrshire.'
When
rest did not restore his health or vigour he announced his decision to retire at
the end of 1897 on the grounds that he could no longer sustain the high standard
of his ministry and he feared that to stay might damage the work he had already
done. On 14th November he preached his last sermon, and at a great reception in
Maybole Town Hall the following day the townsfolk took farewell of him. They
presented him with 250 sovereigns, a sum which he accepted with some
embarrassment because he knew it was made up of shillings and coppers they could
ill afford but had given willingly.
As
in everything else, Roderick Lawson had strong views on retirement, and had
explained these in the Monthly Letter years before. Now he repeated them. He
would not accept an allowance from the Aged Ministers' Fund and he was
determined not to be a financial burden on his successor.
'I
have never during the thirty-four years of my ministry, omitted a chance of
preaching on a Sunday wherever I might be, and I mean to continue this
practice,' he said, and put forward a plan that he should offer his services to
country parishes in the hope that a fresh mind and a fresh voice might stir up
their interests a little.'
He
moved to Port Bannatyne and continued to write as busily as ever, but returned
to Ayr and settled in Ashgrove Street just after the turn of the century. His
health failed rapidly and several shocks left him partially paralysed. He died
on Monday, 26th February, 1907, and was buried in Maybole with what amounted to
a civic funeral during which Mr Lawson's bell' tolled as a reminder of the debt
the townspeople owed to him.
In
his will Roderick Lawson remembered the causes dearest to his heart - £400 to
the poor of Maybole for their annual outing, £200 to the West Church Sabbath
School and £200 for the upkeep of his wayside seats. Today he is commemorated
in the town by a Street name, and a tablet in the West Church records that he
was 'a man imbued with the enthusiasm of usefulness who preached the love of
God.'
The
words are those of one of his missionary friends in India, and they are an
accurate summing-up of the man who said at the end of his career, 'No matter
where I began, I could not think of ending there. If I began with preaching, I
must go on to doing. If I began with lecturing, I must go on to writing books.
If I began with the West Church congregation, I must go on to include the whole
town.'
Roderick
Lawson began in Maybole in 1863: he went on as an influence in the town and
beyond it long after his ministry was over.
|