The Autobiography of John G. Paton (pt. 2): School Days
During his school days, John G. Paton began to work most days for long hours; it was also at this time that he grew in his desire to commit himself fully to becoming a missionary or minister of the gospel as his primary calling in life.
This is the second in a series of episodes from the life of John G. Paton, adapted from his autobiography for young readers.
8 min read
When I was a boy, Torthorwald had one of the grand old typical Parish Schools of Scotland. This was where the rich and the poor met together and where Bible and Catechism were taught as passionately as grammar and geography. This was also where intelligent boys from the humblest cottages were taught Latin, Mathematics, and Greek to go straight from their village class to university.
At that time, there was a gifted and experienced teacher named Smith, a smart man known beyond his local town. He had added a boarding house to the normal school and had brought in some of the wealthier families’ and farmers’ sons from the surrounding area. So Torthorwald, under his leadership, reached the peak of its fame for its education. I learned how to read and write in this school, and so did all my brothers and sisters after me, though some of them were taught by other teachers. My teacher punished strictly—rather, I should say, savagely—especially if we prepared our schoolwork badly. But in other ways, I knew that he was kind-hearted.
When I was not yet twelve years old, I started to learn to do the same work my father did, in which I made surprising progress. We worked from six in the morning until ten at night, with an hour break at dinner-time, half an hour at breakfast, and another half-hour at supper. Every day, I spent these breaks eagerly studying my books on Latin and Greek. I did this because I had given my soul to God, and I was determined to be a missionary or a minister of the gospel. Yet I can gladly say that what I learned of the stocking frame did not go to waste; the ability to use tools and watch and keep the machinery in order came to be of great value to me in the foreign mission field.
There is one incident from this time that I must mention here because of its lasting impact on my spiritual life. Our family, like all others among the peasant class in the land, fell into deep distress. We suffered severely because the potato harvest failed, other crops were bad, and food prices were high. Our father had gone to Hawick for work and would return the next evening with money and supplies. In the meantime, the meal barrel ran low. And our dear mother, who did not want to let anyone know or ask anyone for help, told us to rest and assured us that she had told God everything. She told us that He would send us plenty in the morning. The next day, a present came from her father with the carrier from Lockerbie. He knew nothing of her circumstances or of this special trial. But at that time, he had been moved by God to send a gift of love to his daughter—a bag of new potatoes, a stone (about 14 pounds) of the season’s first flour, and the first homemade cheese of the season. This largely supplied all our needs. My mother, seeing our surprise at such an answer to her prayers, took us around her knees, thanked God for His goodness, and said to us,
“O my children, love your Heavenly Father. Tell Him in faith and prayer all your needs, and He will supply what you lack as long as it will be for your good and His glory.”
Perhaps, in the midst of all their struggles in raising a family of eleven, this was the hardest time they ever had. And it was the only time they ever felt the actual hardship of hunger. And the little that they had was greatly blessed by God, and it was just as greatly used by our noble mother. And her high spirit, along with her humble and gracious godliness, made us, under God, what we are today.
I saved enough at my work to be able to go to Dumfries Academy for six weeks. This again awoke my hunger for learning, and I was determined to give up the work of making stockings and turn to something that might help progress my education. I got a job with the Sappers and Miners (military builders who dug trenches and tunnels). The office hours were from 9 a.m. until 4 p.m. And even though my walk from home was over four miles every morning, and the same on the way back in the evening, I found much spare time to study privately, both on the way to and from my work and also after hours. Instead of spending my lunch hour with the others at football and other games, I went away to a quiet spot alone on the banks of the Nith and there studied my book.
Unknown to me, our lieutenant had noticed this from his house on the other side of the stream. After a time, he called me into his office and asked what I was studying, and I told him. And after speaking to some of the other officials there, he called for me again and promised me a promotion and special training in Woolwich at the government’s expense. But it was with the condition that I would commit to the work for seven years. I thanked him most gratefully for his kind offer but said I would commit for only three or four years, not seven.
Excitedly, he said, “Why? Will you refuse an offer that many sons of wealthy families would be proud to have?”
I said, “My life is given to another Master, so I cannot commit for seven years.”
He asked sharply, “To whom?”
I replied, “To the Lord Jesus; and I want to prepare as soon as possible for His service in proclaiming the gospel.”
In great anger, he rushed across the room, called the paymaster, and shouted, “Accept my offer or you are dismissed on the spot!”
I answered, “I am extremely sorry if you do so, but to commit myself for seven years would probably prevent me from fulfilling the purpose of my life. And though I am very grateful, I cannot make such a commitment.”
His anger made him unwilling or unable to understand my situation. I gave back the drawing tools, received my pay, and departed without further discussion or argument. Mr. Maxwell, the rector of Dumfries Academy, heard how I had been treated and why, so he offered to let me attend all classes there free of charge as long as I remained there. But I could not support myself, and I did not want to be a burden to my dear father. Rather, I was determined to help him educate the rest of my siblings.
Therefore, I went to what was known as the Lamb Fair at Lockerbie, where farmers hired workers. For the first time in my life, I got a job for the harvest. I arrived at the field when the cutting of the grain crop began, so the farmer asked me to tie a sheaf. When I had done so, he took it by the band, and it fell to pieces! But instead of disheartening me, he carefully taught me how to tie a sheaf. And the second one that I tied up did not collapse when shaken. And when he threw the third one across the field and found that it remained firm, he cried cheerfully,
“That’s right, young man! Keep going!”
It was hard work for me at first, and my hands got very sore. But, being willing and determined, I soon got used to the work and kept up with the best of them. The male harvesters were assigned to sleep in a large hay loft with beds arranged all along the side like barracks. Many of the fellows were rough and loud. Perhaps my appearance showed my hesitation to mingle with them, for the farmer’s wife suggested that I, being so much younger than the rest of the men, sleep in the house with her son George. How gratefully I accepted her considerate and kind-hearted offer!
A beautiful new farmhouse had recently been built for them. While waiting for the grain to ripen or dry, I planned and laid out a decorative garden in front of the farmhouse. This garden greatly pleased the family—it was an interest I inherited from my mother, who enjoyed flowers and garden plots. When I left after the harvest, they gave me a generous gift along with my wages because I had become so dear to them all. And how greatly I treasured those experiences when, much later and in distant lands, mission buildings had to be built and gardens and fields needed to be cropped and cultivated without the aid of a single European worker.
John G. Paton was a nineteenth-century Scottish missionary to the New Hebrides, where he preached the gospel to heathen cannibals for over thirty years.
