George Abel

FOREWORD

THE former students of old Aberdeen College, at their annual gathering in Edinburgh during the sittings of the General Assembly, once placed in the chair a country minister, known to me at the time hardly more than by name. I was astonished, till he began to speak; but then it became clear that those responsible for providing a chairman had known their man; for there flowed from his lips a speech as perfect for geniality, humour, and literary grace as could have been delivered by the most practised after-dinner orator. Since then I have had occasion to see Mr. Abel play many parts, but he has always measured-up to the stature I divined in him that afternoon. In this book he appears in a new character-new to me, but not to his more intimate friends and acquaintances,-and he attains the same easy mastery, combining with the wisdom of a shrewd and kindly teacher the music that delights, and the phrase which cannot be forgotten. These poems will be most enjoyed and oftenest quoted in the part of the country where the Doric in which they are composed is spoken; but I should like to add that, though not having the honour to be an Aberdonian, I can read them without difficulty.

JAMES STALKER.

ABERDEEN, December, 1915.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.

WITHIN fourteen days after this volume of poems was first published, its author had gone to his last long rest. The tidings of his death, after a very brief illness, came as a sudden shock to his friends; while many who had never met him face to face were touched by the pathos of his passing, just when his career seemed to have reached its zenith. There was felt to be something almost tragic in the circumstances. He lived to see his book published, and to know that it was a success; but he died before it was fully known how signal was the success he had achieved. In view of the fact that in this volume he had left his own memorial, it was felt that some account of his personality should appear in the new edition. The duty of preparing such a notice of his life and work was undertaken by the present writer at the request of the publisher and of Mr. Abel's relatives.

George Abel was born on 29th March, I856, at the farm of Womblehill, in the parish of Kintore, Aberdeenshire. When he was still quite young, his father removed to North Ley Lodge, another farm in the same parish, where his boyhood days were spent. Those who remember his parents, speak of them as quiet, worthy people, who were highly respected throughout the whole district. His father was for many years an elder in what was then the Free Church of Kintore, and, while in every way maintaining the traditions of his office, he appears to have been singularly free from narrowness and prejudice, and in advance of his day in his kindly and sympathetic attitude towards the questions which engaged the attention of the young people and the innocent recreations in which they indulged. It was, doubtless, to the influence of the father's personality that the son owed, at any rate in some measure, the breadth of sympathy, and the kindly human outlook, which were so characteristic of his life and work, and which added so greatly to his influence. His widowed mother lived, until her death a few years ago, at the manse in Udny, rejoicing in the place her son had gained for himself in the hearts of the community, and sharing in the tangible gifts of affection bestowed at various times by an attached people. Mr. Abel never married, and one of his sisters lived with him from the beginning of his ministry until her death in I9O7, when another sister took her place.

George was the third in a family of six and, along with the others, he went for his early education to Ley Lodge School and the Free Church School in the village of Kintore. Neither the schools nor the church of his earliest years seem to have left any particular impression on his mind or character. It is, at any rate, impossible to trace their influence in a direct way, and this is confirmed by some of his contemporaries. But, while this is so, it must be remembered that boys going to the University in those days left the village school at a very early age. George Abel can only have been in his early teens when he arrived in Aberdeen with the view of entering the University. He did not proceed to matriculate at once, but went for at least one term to the Gymnasium in Old Aberdeen. This was a well-known high-class school, founded and conducted by Dr. Anderson, who was as prominent in ecclesiastical as in educational circles. Dr. Anderson was at first parish minister of Boyndie, and after he had given up the pulpit for teaching, he was induced to accept the pastorate of Old Aberdeen Free Church. Then, in a few years, he changed his views on the question of infant baptism, and founded a new Baptist congregation in Aberdeen. His work in these two city pastorates was carried on simultaneously with his control of the large and important educational institution which made his name so prominent in the North. The "Gym," as it was popularly called, sent forth many men who rose to eminent positions in various walks of life. Some time after Dr. Anderson's death it ceased to exist, and it is now but a memory of the past. Of Abel's record in its classes, no details are available, but within its walls he made the acquaintance of some fellow-pupils whose names afterwards became widely known.

When he entered the University of Aberdeen for his Arts Course, Abel found himself at once in congenial company. He made some fast friendships with men whose intimacy he enjoyed, and whose comradeship he retained and valued to the end of his days. Several of them, in their own way, exerted an influence over him which, doubtless, affected his whole after life, and he, on his part and in his own way, left an impress upon them. His influence was ever that of personality. Even in his University days, while he was but a mere lad, he had a very distinct individuality. He came into student life, just as he afterwards came into ministerial life, like a strong breeze of bracing air scattering every vestige of unreality and pretence. Anything like affectation on the part of any of his class-mates he simply could not tolerate. With all his kindness of heart, he could yet be severe on any one whom he suspected of a feeling of sedate superiority, and it is said that, on one occasion, he set himself to take the starch out of one of his fellows. To a friend who gently remonstrated with him for his treatment of the young man, Abel just smiled genially and said, "It is good for his liver and his soul." He could be a terrible tease when he liked. But nothing was more pronounced than his keen sense of humour. "I see him," writes one of his most intimate friends," as clearly with the mind's eye at this moment, as I saw him on many a frolicsome day in the off-hours at King's. He was the gay comrade who was always in the heart of any fun, he greatly enjoyed a joke, and his ready wit was unfailing. Yet there was never anything bitter in his sallies, and he was a decided favourite with his class-fellows."

He did not specially distinguish himself in any of the classes. Some subjects never appealed to him, and Mathematics he is said to have positively disliked. He passed all the ordinary class examinations, and he is said to have been interested in English, and to have had a certain leaning towards philosophy. Dr. Alexander Bain is supposed to have been the Professor who most impressed him during his Arts Course. He made him think, as he made so many who came under his teaching. Abel, however, all along was more interested in life than in literature, in men than in books. At the same time, his University career can be summed up by saying that he was a good student, and that he trifled with nothing that was necessary to qualify for entering the Divinity Hall.

When he entered the Free Church College in Aberdeen, in I877, for his Divinity Course, the famous Robertson Smith case was agitating the Church. The stormy days of that great controversy, says a fellow student, "liberalised every man of us with an open mind and a responsive nature, and Abel had both all his days." The Divinity Hall of the Free Church in Aberdeen in those days was not strong. A member of Abel's class describes it thus:- "Principal Brown was brilliant but erratic. We got little from him but flashes of exegesis. Professor Binnie was grave and dull, but a most fatherly and saintly man. We all loved him. We were left to the mercy of tutors in the Hebrew class. The best was Dr. Eaton, now of Glasgow. George Adam Smith began his work after we had finished with Hebrew, and so we missed him. He influenced us greatly, however, by his first sermons as a probationer at Queen's Cross. It was a new kind of preaching in our ears. It lifted us up and cast us down. This young fellow from Edinburgh had already reached a throne to which we could only wonderingly look up. Again and again we said-each one of us-'I am afraid I shall never be able to preach.' And yet, when Smith came down among us, he was so much one of ourselves that we began to have hope. Of course the man who influenced us most of all at the Divinity Hall was Professor (afterwards Principal) Salmond. He taught us to work, and to fear nothing so much as being unprepared for the pulpit. He also showed us how to get at the heart of the great Message of the Bible. I think, however, that the man who chiefly gripped Abel was the Rev. Andrew Doak of Trinity Church. I saw that quite clearly. The ethical passion which Doak put into his preaching, the large-hearted humanity of his teaching, and the fearless Radicalism of the man, seemed to open up a new world for George Abel. He heard a voice that he understood, and ministry helped to determine his life's ideals." Of the accuracy of this impression there can be no doubt. Abel freely acknowledged his debt to Mr. Doak; the two remained on the closest terms of a friendship that ended only with Abel's death; and it was the retirement of Mr. Doak from active pastoral work that called forth the first poem that was ever known to have come from Abel's pen. Abel, it may be said, did well in all his classes at Divinity, and passed the Board examinations with great credit.

Almost as soon as he left the Divinity Hall, he was appointed to take charge of the mission station at New Byth, near Turriff. He had been there only for a few months when he was called by the congregation of Udny Free Church as colleague and successor to the Rev. George Archibald, who was then retiring from active service. There were strong candidates among those who preached in the vacancy, but Abel was elected by a large majority, and his settlement was marked by the greatest cordiality. He was ordained and inducted on I4th December, I88I, and he remained minister of Udny United Free Church until the day of his death.

It is impossible to refer in anything like detail to the remarkable range and influence of Abel's work at Udny. He speedily gained the esteem and confidence of the people, and his hold only increased with the passing years. Even in outward things, his ministry was a remarkable success. In spite of a declining population, the membership of the church steadily increased, and this increase was specially marked in recent years. The Sunday School was large for a country church, and it had a very fine band of teachers. Among the young people Abel was always remarkably successful. He had a wonderful faculty in persuading them to join the Band of Hope-for he was an earnest Temperance worker-while his Bible Class was a great attraction to the young men and women of the district. In more recent years, special Sunday evening services were held monthly in the Public Hall. These were always crowded, sometimes to overflowing, and it is no small tribute to Abel's influence that the audiences were largely composed of the farm servant class, who are usually so difficult to reach. Incidentally it may be remarked that Abel had no fondness for Church Courts. In the general work of the parish, however, he took an active part. On the School Board and the Parish Council he gave lengthened and highly-appreciated service. He was very warmly interested in the Udny Mutual Improvement Association, which owed much of its prosperity to his fostering care. He was the highly-esteemed convener of the Udny Public Library Committee, and he took great pains in the selection of the new books. He was himself a lover of books. He read more widely every year-especially in general literature. On the occasion of his semi-jubilee, in I9O6, his services were publicly recognised, and, in I9I5, at the celebration of the Jubilee of the opening of the church, special reference was made to the continued success of his work and the steady widening of his influence. On the latter occasion the Marquis and Marchioness of Aberdeen were present, and expressed their warm regard for Mr. Abel, and high appreciation of his gifts. "Time and again," said the Marquis, "our esteemed and beloved friend had come to Haddo House Chapel and had given us some of those delightful and refreshing discourses of his-discourses characterised by his fine gifts of imagination and sympathy." Reference must not be omitted to the fact that, during his ministry, extensive internal improvements were made from time to time on the church fabric, amounting almost to a complete reconstruction, until it is now one of the most comfortable and best equipped of country churches.

But these were only the externals of Abel's life and work. They were the outward manifestations of an influence which touched the deepest roots. His ministry was distinctly a spiritual one. He was at heart a deeply religious man, and, while fearless in regard to his convictions, he had those fine human qualities which endeared him to all. He had a supreme loathing for cant in any form, but his whole being responded to a warm genuine Evangelicalism. All this was reflected in his preaching. In the pulpit he had a remarkable power of his own. He never preached at men; he talked to them. Yet it was not loose talk of any easy kind. He gave much time and thought to the preparation of his sermons. They were carefully written out, and often finished in the early part of the week. Then his mind would brood upon them in the intervening days, and on Sunday he would go into the pulpit full of his subject. He did not by any means adhere slavishly to what he had written when he came face to face with the people. Thus his sermons, while they had the symmetry and the finish of the written discourse, were not the mere repetition of passages laboriously committed to memory, but a living, throbbing, heart to heart talk with his hearers. Without strain or effort, and with a charming simplicity of style, he was able to express himself with a freshness which arrested and held attention. As Professor Stalker has well remarked, he had a mastery of the phrase which cannot be forgotten. And his thought was marked by the same freshness as his language. In his sermons there was many a touch of originality and often a flash of genius. His pulpit teaching was always distinctly Evangelical in the best sense of the term. His Evangelism was suffused with a rich humanity and a warm sympathy, and he drew men by the cords of love. For so robust a personality, there was a wonderful preponderance of the wooing note in his preaching. In the devotional exercises of the pulpit he had peculiar power. How intimate they were, and yet how reverent! As his big, trustful spirit poured itself out in supplication and intercession, men and women seemed to catch a vision of the things unseen and eternal, and to gain a fresh sense of the reality and nearness of the Father whose love and care were over all His creatures.

There can be no doubt, however, that the secret of Abel's power in preaching could be traced, to a large extent, to his personality. The man was always greater than the preacher. His own personality was his greatest asset and his most powerful appeal to his fellowmen. He impressed everyone with his absolute genuineness and transparent honesty. Of affectation, or artificiality, he had never the slightest trace. He went out and in among the peopie all the years of his ministry in a way that made him ever the welcome visitor, alike the friend of rich and poor, and one who was equally at home in the castle and in the cottage. A "big human" was the phrase often aptly applied to him. Last year, when on his way to his holidays, he went in passing to see one of his old College classfellows. When the maid asked, "Who shall I say has called?" he answered with characteristic humour, A man." As she went to tell her master, she remarked, "He says he is a man, but I am sure he is a gentleman." "Yes," writes his old comrade, recalling the incident, "a man and a gentleman-that was George Abel."

The wit and humour of his early days were never lost-in fact, they seemed to become ever readier although, perhaps, they mellowed with the years. His pawky sayings, especially in the familiar Doric which ever came to him so easily, will be treasured for many a day. He was fond of a joke; he loved a good story; and as a raconteur he excelled. While he had always a quick eye for the humorous, he was just as ready to feel the pathos of life. He had a rich sympathetic nature, and his very presence in homes darkened by sorrow seemed to bring a sense of comfort to the broken-hearted. At the celebration of Abel's semi-jubilee, in I9O6, Principal Sir George Adam Smith (who was then Professor in Glasgow United Free Church College) sent an apology for absence, in course of which he wrote of his friend:- "Twenty-five years ago we started him upon his way with full confidence in the powers of his mind and heart to fulfil his ministry well, and, to-day, we who love him, can reflect with a sincere pride upon the clean, thorough work God has enabled him to do all through, the honesty and strength of it all, thenature and courage of it. He is one of the best-hearted men Iknow, with a power of affection and a genuine humility." These words, written when the twenty-fifth milestone of his ministry had been reached, are as true to-day when his ministry is closed for ever and we can view it as a whole.

It was not until Abel had been many years at Udny that he began to express himself in verse. The first poem known to have come from his pen was, as already indicated, the fine tribute he wrote on the occasion of the retirement of his friend, the Rev. Andrew Doak, from active pastoral work. It appeared in the Aberdeen Evening Express in I9OO, under the title of "Farewell of an Ex-Captain," and at once attracted attention. Abel received many appreciative letters, regarding his effort. These came from all quarters, one of the most striking and one which he specially prized, being from a prominent Roman Catholic layman in Aberdeen. To many of his own friends this evidence of his poetic gifts came as a revelation and a suprise. It may seem strange that he should, after all these years, have suddenly and unexpectedly produced such verses and then have followed them up by so many contributions from his pen. The latent power of the man had been unsuspected even by many who knew him well. Yet the matter can be traced to its source. The Lecturer on Elocution at the Divinity Hall can tell of how, "while many of the students had read English Literature widely, not one of them so 'hugged# the words of the poets to his heart as Abel did. He learned with the utmost ease any poem prescribed for exercise, and in his repetition he 'lilted' it as whole-heartedly as pets do." A class-fellow confirms this impression. "As a student," he says, "Abel was always singing or reciting Scotch songs in the 'liberties' of the classroom and in his lodgings. Indeed, however serious our talk might be, there would be a bit of a song from George at some point. Musical words, phrases, and airs, rhymed on in his head. He was, too, an ardent student of Shakespeare and Burns. He loved every word that revelaed the real heat in men and women." From all this it can be gathered that the spirit was in him all the time, although he was long in finding that he could give expression to it. It was a case of genius flowering late.

Encouraged by the success of his first effect, he went on to further achievements. He found an outlet for the music in his own soul and a means of giving expression to what he felt alike of the humour and the pathos of everyday life with all its heart-aches and burdens and silent heroisms. With the exception of his first piece and one or two others, he always made the Aberdeenshire Doric his wehicle of expression. It came to him quite natually, for he was literally steeped int he vernacular, and few could equal him in the extent of his vocabulary. His verses came from him apparently with the utmost ease. He had no fixed plans, he just wrote when the spirit possessed him. He expressed himself as naturally and as readily as any singing bird

His poems continued to appear at irregular intervals in the local papers until the signature of "G. A., Udny," became well known. A wide public in the North of Scotland came to appreciate his writings, and natives of the district, scattered far and wide throughout the world, gave them an enthusiastic welcome, for the Doric of their youth in the hands of a master awakened tender memories of the old homeland. From time to time the author was pressed by admirers, both at home and abroad, to publish a collection of his poems in book form. He was, however, shy and diffident about his own work, and it was only in the autumn of I9I5, when he received an offer from Mr. Gardner, of Paisley, that he was brought to a decision. He accepted the offer, and Wylins Fae My Wallet appeared in December. It will always be a certain satisfaction to his friends that he lived to see his book actually published, and that he was able to rejoice in his own hearty, genial, unaffected way at the first tidings of its success. Other avenues of influence had been opening up to him. For some months before his death he had been contributing a series of "Fireside Cracks " to the Peoples' Journal. These were written in the Aberdeenshire Doric, and not only were they becoming increasingly popular, but they also gave promise of developing his gifts along other lines, and of still further increasing his influence among the people in the country districts.

The end came with startling suddenness. On Friday, 24th December, I9I5, he left Udny to exchange pulpits with his younger brother, the Rev. Arthur C. Abel, of Dudhope United Free Church, Dundee. He was then to all appearance in his usual health, but he caught a chill on the way south. On the Sunday forenoon he preached in Dudhope Church, but he was unable to take the evening service. He was then confined to bed in his brother's house, pneumonia developed during the week, and on the morning of Sunday, 2nd January, I9I6, he passed away. His illness was so brief that few of his friends had even heard of it, and the tidings of his death could scarcely be credited. Men seemed almost unable to realise that the big burly figure so recently in their midst would be seen no more, and that they would never look again into that kindly, honest face. Abel had a genius for friendship, and every one who knew him mourned the loss of a friend.

The funeral took place at Udny on Wednesday, 4th January, I9I6, amid such universal tributes of respect as will make the day memorable in the history of the parish. Men of all ranks and classes had gathered from far and near, and few who were present will forget the scene. It was fitting that the poet-preacher should be laid to rest in the quiet country churchyard of the district he loved so well, and that he should have for his dirge the "soughin' win'," of which he so often wrote. The great company stood around the open grave as the comittal prayer was dai by Principal Sir George Adam Smith, adn then they took their last farewell of George Abel until he answers at "the roll-ca' yont the starts."

In Arthur Warwick's posthumous work-his only book and the solitary monument of his quiet and beautiful life-this motto is inscribed on the titlepage:- "Absalom had no son so he built him a pillar in the king's dale." George Abel in this book has "built him a pillar in the king's dale" which will keep his name alive. And in the hearts of those who knew and loved him there will ever be a fragrant memory of the man himself.

ALEXANDER GAMMIE.

ABERDEEN

February, 1916.