A Generous Soul – Part 1

John Watson (3 November 1850 – 6 May 1907), was a minister of the Free Church of Scotland. He is remembered as an author of fiction, known by his pen name Ian Maclaren. I'm currently reading his short story collection "St Jude", but am also fascinated by his life. Here was a man who stood out against a narrowness in his creed, and who was indeed "a generous soul".

The Life of The Rev. John Watson, D.D. "Ian Maclaren"
A Generous Soul
By W. Robertson Nicoll

John Watson's Roman Catholic 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 Catholic 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, yes, 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 any word of mine stand between you and your 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 always possessed for him a great and holding charm.

He could bear opposition; he could suffer to see himself despised or thrust aside if any good came of it. He used to buy things at a shop in Perth where the shopkeeper was not civil to him. He was asked why he continued to go where his custom was not wanted; and he answered that he was trying to soften that man by kindness.