John Brown of Haddington.

The vast majority of the mighty servants of the church of a bye-gone day walked "the studious cloisters pale" of the world's great Universities and Halls of learning. Few, if any, had a Divinity School such as young John Brown attended, for there, he formed, not only one half of the entire student body, but one half of the entire teaching staff, as well. Two pupils! – young John Brown and old John Ogilvie. Two teachers! – Young John Brown and old John Ogilvie! Such was the staff and students of "The Tabernacle" as it sat snug and safe from the eye of man admist the Perthshire hills – "four turf walls and a heather thatch."

John Brown, whose name was to be linked so unbreakably with that of Haddington, was born in the year 1722 in the village of Carpow near Abernethy. The "Day of his Salvation" dawned early, for it was in 1730, while still only a boy of eight, that a visiting preacher at the Communion season in Abernethy "spake much to the commendation of Christ" and there began a life of growing in grace and in the knowledge of Christ that has had few equals. The young convert's faith was soon to be tried, however, and both of his parents were taken from him within a few short years. It is here that the older half of the "student-staff" occupants of the Tabernacle – and, indeed the Tabernacle itself – enters into the picture.

John Ogilvie was born during the "killing times" in Scotland and so, was an old man by the time young John Brown had entered into Christ's flock. The old man opened not only his home, but his heart and his mind, to the young fatherless bairn and he began to "instruct him in the ways of the Lord more perfectly." John Ogilvie had never had the opportunity of any "formal" education, but although unable to read or write had stored his heart and his mind with the riches of God's grace and Word. These he imparted to his young friend, who, in turn, instructed the old patriarch in the "learning of letters." From thence rose the Tabernacle. "For their mutual improvement," we are told in one sketch of John Brown's life, "the two Johns constructed their moorland shelter, and there, as circumstances of employment permitted, young John improved and extended old John's knowledge of the letter of Scripture, and old John, in turn, gave his herd-boy the benefit of his long experience of the Christian warfare, and of his intercourse with the saints of a former generation … … … A turf shelter on a rugged hillside! A barley-bannock to ward of the attacks of hunger! A vessel of clear spring-water to slake their thirst! Above all else, the Book of Life!" This was "The Tabernacle."

With the passing of the older saint, however, this happy state of affairs was brought to a close; but upon the foundation that he had helped to lay in his young fellow-soldier's heart there was to rise up an edifice of power to the great glory of God's own Name.

The story of how John Brown walked over 24 mils to St. Andrews to purchase the Greek New Testament that he had toiled and saved to buy is one of the gems of the Christian church. The incredulous bookseller in St. Andrews took one look at the young herds-boy from the Perthshire hills and would probably have chased him from his premises but for the intervention of some of the University professors who happened to be browsing around at that particular time. "Bring him the book," they declared, "and if he can read it he shall have it free as a present from us." Thereupon, young John opened the book and in fluent Greek read the desired portions thus obtaining his prize.

This thurst for knowledge with which to glorify his God never seemed to leave him and when he was called to his life's work at Haddington, the boy who had never known the inside of a Divinity Hall, save that rustic establishment of the Perthshire hills, was later to combine his pastoralia with a Professorship of Divinity. He was expert in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and could hold his own with Arabic, Syriac, Persic, Ethiopic, and with the modern languages of French, Spanish, Italian, Dutch and German. And yet, his language and learning was always that of the Tabernacle: "There is no language, ancient or modern," he used to say, "like that of the grace of God … no history like that of Jesus Christ … no science like that of beholding the Word made flesh …" "I would not exchange the learning of one hour's fellowship with Christ," he once said, "for all the liberal learning in ten thousand Universities …" "Oh, commend Jesus," he told his sons on his death-bed, "There is none like Christ – there is none like Christ – there is none like Christ."